Author's Note

This chapter contains pee. Ye be warned.

Commissioned by the artist vacuvung. If you wish to read this fiction alongside the illustration, click here to find out how https://www.deviantart.com/vavacung/art/Pay-What-You-Want-SECOND-WORLD-VOL-8-778020712

Chapter Two (no sex)

After too long a time waiting, I finally heard Tsunderplane come to with a groan. I was the first thing she saw when she cracked her eyes open again.

A strange look came over her face. “You... Wow. You really do care about me.”

“What? I was just doing what I was ordered to – monitor you at all times. It's not like I like you or anything.” I slipped in a sly wink.

“Hey!” She shot up in bed. “Don't you dare do that! Don't you dare!”

“Dare to do what?” I asked, with all the innocent sincerity I could muster. It was only thanks to guard training that I managed to keep a straight face for as long as I did.

She laughed first, breaking out into a contagious giggle. It broke through to me in no time, and I couldn't help but laugh alongside her.

When the laughter died down, though, she held her wings to her belly. “Ugh... Why do I feel so bad, though?”

The on-duty medic walked back into the little room. “Ah, good, you're awake. And I'm glad you asked that.” He was a unicorn, grey like most of the day guard unicorns, but he wore a doctor's smock instead of their usual golden armor.

Tsunderplane regarded him with blatant suspicion.

He patently ignored the look she was giving him, and he continued, “I shouldn't need to explain such things, one would think, but your body is clearly incompatible with kerosene fuel.”

Tsunderplane scoffed. “I've always eaten that kind of thing. You, um, ponies don't know anything about me. I'm a machine, after all.”

“No, no you aren't.” He used his magic to pick a clipboard off the nearby countertop and float it over to her. “While you were out, we took the liberty of running a few tests. And it's clear that your body is quite biological – even though it's nothing like any other we've ever seen. Almost dolphin-like, actually, though there are obvious differences. We still don’t know how you manage to fly without moving your wings ... some kind of magic, probably.”

“I, I'm not...” Tsunderplane looked at me for confirmation, but what did I know about that kind of thing?

Since she wasn't looking at the chart he showed her, the medic took it away again. “The important part is that you seem to have vomited up most of the kerosene, and what's left doesn't look to be a life-threatening dose. If your body works the way these tests suggest, you should probably be able to process the remaining toxins within a few hours and make a full recovery.” He looked up at her again. “Do you need anything?”

She held a wing against her stomach and grimaced. “Ugh... No, I don't need anything. Nothing at all.”

“I can't do anything about the stomach pain yet, unfortunately. We don't know if our medicines would work properly on your biology. As I said, it should start feeling better within a few hours – call for me if it gets significantly worse. Oh, and in the meantime, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to eat some real food, something high in fiber to help absorb the toxins and flush them out of your system.” He turned to leave. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I do have other patients to tend. One of the day guard sergeants challenged the others to a 'loyalty contest' – a barbarically stupid and inexplicably popular competition of who can stare directly into the sun the longest. I have quite a few retinal reconstruction potions to administer.”

As the medic left us together, I looked back at Tsunderplane. “I hope you don't feel too bad. Maybe you'd like to try some real food, like the doctor said?”

“Ugh, like I'd ever want any of your gross biological pony food.” Another stomach spasm hit her, and she writhed back and forth on the bed a little. She looked over and stared at me. “How can you even live in a weak biological body like this? What good is it? It's utterly worthless.”

I took out the apple I'd saved from my own meal – which I'd managed to clean most of the kerosene vomit off of – and began slicing it with the knife that comes standard-issue with night guard armor.

Tsunderplane obliquely watched me slice it, carefully hiding her interest. She frowned again as her stomach panged. “These biological bodies are just completely pointless! They're—”

I stuffed an apple slice into her mouth.

At first, she protested, struggling away from me and making exaggerated gagging motions. But then her glassy eyes opened wide as she actually began to chew it. She sat up in her hospital bed – the medics had clothed her in a sterile green hospital smock, which draped over her frame and wings in an almost comically misfitting way, but she didn't seem to take much notice of that. Instead, she stared at the remaining apple slices in my hooves.

“Did you like it?” I asked.

She glanced away. “It was ... acceptable.” But no matter what she said, I just had to look. Her tail section was much more honest: waggling under the hospital sheets almost like a dog's. It was... It was actually pretty adorable.

“Feel like having another slice?”

“Pfft, no!” She crossed her wings in front of her.

Deliberately, I looked away, as if checking to see if the medic was coming back or not. And sure enough, the moment I wasn't looking, her wing swiped all of the apple slices out of my hooves. By the time I looked at her, the only evidence remaining of them was her stuffed cheeks.

She chewed quietly, with happiness in her eyes ... and I politely declined to notice what had happened to my apple slices.

* * *

We talked for a long time, about her world and mine. And we both learned quite a lot as Tsunderplane began to feel better and better.

Eventually – based on some arcane metrics – the medic on duty said that she was 'fit for duty', even though she didn't have any duties. The pertinent thing, though, was that she was discharged from the infirmary and sent on her way along with me.

Which left us quite without any direction.

I asked Tsunderplane if she'd like to take a tour of the garrison, if she'd like to go for a short flying exercise, if she'd like to go to my quarters and rest, and even if she felt like eating again. Of course, she refused each and every one of them ... and it was beyond me to tell which refusals where sincere and which were not.

So, after we drifted through the halls a little, we ended up at my quarters anyway.

Since I'd been on the force for more than three years, I had my own private room with a bed and a desk. It wasn't much – it was tiny, honestly – but it was mine, and even my commander was supposed to ask permission before entering. Though ... honestly, that bit of privacy was only a technicality – she could always just order me to give her permission to enter.

But, humble as it was, I invited Tsunderplane inside.

She glanced around, obviously unimpressed. “This is your hangar?”

“My, uh...?”

“Where you sleep.”

I nodded. “Such as it is.”

She looked around it again. “It's so ... small.”

“Yeah, um... Sorry about that. It's probably going to get even smaller when we get a second bed in here for you.” I looked around, wondering where we could even put it. And then wondering about other things. “That is ... if you even sleep in a bed. Or something else...? Do you even sleep?”

Tsunderplane didn't seem keen to answer, though. She was distracted, glancing around, her eyes pinched at the corners. Her tail fins pivoted from side to side anxiously.

“Um, Planny... Is something wrong? Is your stomach hurting again?”

She pointedly looked away from me – which meant she ended up staring straight at a wall. “Pfft. No. I'm fine!'

“There is something wrong. Tell me! If you'd just talk to me, maybe we can avoid another trip down to the infirmary.”

She glanced back at me, then looked resolutely away. But after a few moments of her tail squirming, she turned back toward me. “It's... It's... Oh, you wouldn't know.”

“Come on!”

Was she actually blushing a little? She wouldn't meet my eyes, instead staring down at my feet as she continued to fidget in midair. “There's, um, something wrong with my rear landing gear bay. It kind of hurts and it doesn't feel good.”

“Your what?”

She reached a winglet down and pointed at a tightly closed crevice on her belly, just a little above her tail fins.

Now it was my turn to blush. “Um, Planny...”

Tsunderplane watched me intently, a growing urgency in her eyes.

“Well, um, I saw the medic while he was running his tests and, um...” I glanced down at her problem area, then pointedly looked away. Why was my armor feeling so hot all of the sudden? “Well, that's not a 'landing gear bay', whatever that is. It's a... It's, um...” I gulped, unable to say the word.

She tilted her body upward and looked down at me scornfully. “Of course it's a landing gear bay. Look, I'll extend my wheels!” A momentary look of effort passed over her face, and then the little hatch on her underbelly split open and slid apart to either side ... revealing what was obviously a tender pink pussy underneath.

I blanched and covered my eyes. “Aah! I shouldn't be seeing that!” Why did it look so ... so real?

Her responding groan was utterly dismissive. “What? It's just my landing g—” She looked down, and she shrieked. “What is that? What is it! Ugh! It's all fleshy and gross! What the heck did you ponies do with my landing gear?”

Breathing deeply and trying to stay cool, I spoke slowly and clearly, “It's part of being a biological creature. A ... female one, specifically. That's your, um...” I had to steel myself and force the word out. “That's your vaginal opening.”

“Ew...” She reached down and touched it. “What's it for?”

I sputtered. “Just... Just put it away already!”

“Huh? Does it bother you?”

“I am not supposed to be seeing that. Just put it away, okay?”

After an eloquent shrug of her wings, Tsunderplane acquiesced. She closed the little hatch on her belly with a little mechanical whir, hiding her unmentionable parts away. “There. Better? Now tell me what that thing is for, right now! And what am I supposed to do without wheels, huh?”

“It's um, for...”

“Spit it out already!”

“Well, um, it's for a few different things.” I scratched the back of my neck and looked away, wishing there was somepony – anypony – else here who could explain this to her instead of me having to do it. Shouldn’t a mare be the one to tell her these things?

“Stop being so vague! What things is it for?”

Deep breath. Okay, I knew I could do this, I just had to come out and say it. “It's mostly for two things: peeing and sex.” Okay, there it was. Done. Perfect.

Her pink unibrow quirked up at me on one side. “For what and what?”

Because of course she didn't know what those words meant. Why did this have to be so awkward? “It's for the, um ... the elimination of liquid waste and well, um...”

“And what?”

“And...” I struggled for a moment to find a word I could dare use in front of her. “And for reproduction.”

“Ugh, all these weird biological words. How am I ever supposed to...” She cringed, curling her tail fins inward toward each other.

“And if my guess is right, then your problem is probably that, well, you need to pee.”

She frowned, but her eyes looked up at me hopefully. “If I do, will it feel better?”

“Oh, definitely. Way better.”

She nodded resolutely. “Okay, so how do I do it?”

“Huh?”

“How do I pee?”

I raised my hoof to make a point, but then drew a blank. For a few moments, my lips moved without any words coming out. But eventually, there was only one thing I could think of. And I was supposed to monitor her at all times... I sighed. “Come on, let's go to the bathrooms.” On the way out of my room's door, I looked back at her. “Just promise me you won't tell anypony about this, okay?”

Tsunderplane nodded urgently. Her 'problem' must have been getting pretty bad by now.

We hurried down the hall to the shared restrooms, and I herded her into one of the private stalls with me.

And then it was just me, Tsunderplane, and a toilet, all crammed into one tiny room. Breathing space was at a premium.

“Okay,” I told her, “now sit on the toilet and, um ... open that, uh, thing again.”

She glared at me. “Does it look like sitting is a thing I do?”

“Oh, well, um ... maybe hover over it, I guess?”

Huffing at me, she did as I said, gliding over the toilet bowl and opening that ... hatch of hers.

I looked away, planting my face against the door. “Okay, now just go. That's all there is to it.”

“Go ... where? I am not going down that nasty little hole! I won't even fit!”

“No, no, I mean just pee into it.” I cringed, running my hoof through my mane. This would all be over soon, and then I'd just never talk about it again. Why was it my job to teach her this stuff?

She grunted, and I hoped to hear the tell-tale trickle ... but nothing came. “I'm trying,” she said. “I'm squeezing as hard as I can, and it's not working! Come on! You’re supposed to tell me how to do it.”

Could I have possibly been blushing any harder? Studiously trying to ignore the situation I was in, I forced myself to breathe and try to relax ... which, come to mention it... “Don't squeeze. Just relax and let it flow. If you need to pee this bad, it should be pretty easy.”

“Mmnh!” Tsunderplane struggled for a few more minutes. “It's not working. Come over here and make it work!”

“I ... I can't do that!”

“What are you doing hiding in the corner, anyway? Come over here and help me!” There was an edge of anger in her voice, as if she was the victim of some great injustice.

I didn't leave my corner. “Nopony can help you pee ... you just have to do it. Just relax and let it go.”

“Relax? Easy for you to say – you don't know what this feels like! My undercarriage feels like it's going to explode!”

I glared back at her, then immediately regretted looking and went back to my corner. But I did answer her. “Everypony knows how this feels. Every biological creature I know of goes through this sometimes. Don't be such a big baby about it.”

“What did you just say to me?”

Oh, why couldn't this be over already? “Just relax and let it go. Trust me.”

“No no no! You don't get to call me a big baby and then just say 'Trust me'! I am going to drop so many bombs on your—” A few drops tinkled into the toilet bowl. “Eep!” And then came the waterworks. From the sound of the stream spraying mostly in the toilet bowl, it was actually kind of impressive in a way. “Oh wow,” she mumbled, “that does feel better...”

It kept on going for a while ... uncomfortably long. Maybe I should have just left her alone in the room with a toilet and let her figure it out on her own. I wished that I had.

I could feel her shudder behind me as the last few drips plinked into the water. “Okay, are you done?”

Her little hatch whirred closed. “Mmm, yes... Much better. I almost wish I could do it again.”

I turned back to look at her. “Really?”

“Wha... No! I mean... Ugh, stupid biological body. Why should I even have to do this in the first place?” There she was ... my question must have brought her back to herself. “It stinks in here. Let's go.”

“Hold on!” I grabbed her tail fin as she tried to jet out through the door.

“Huh? Why?”

“You're supposed to flush it before you leave.”

She just stared at me skeptically, hovering there in the doorway.

I sighed. “Okay, I'm going to demonstrate for you just this once, but from now on, you need to do this yourself after every time you use the bathroom.” I stepped over to the toilet and flicked the flush handle. The mess on the side of the toilet and on the floor could wait – somehow, I was sure that Tsunderplane wouldn’t be amenable to cleaning up her own mess right now. Whichever guard had messed up bad enough to get privy duty could take care of it. And Tsunderplane's aim would probably improve in time. I certainly made my share of such messes when I was first learning as a young colt.

As soon as the toilet finished flushing, Tsunderplane waggled her wings. “Is that it?”

“Yes, that's it.”

“Finally! Let's go!”

Before we got even halfway down the hall, a day guard messenger stopped us. “Oh, there you are, Knight Guard.” He smiled. “I couldn’t find you anywhere, not in your quarters, or in—”

“What did you need me for? Have my orders been changed?”

He craned his neck to the side to look past us. “What were you doing in the bathroom with that thing, anyway?”

“Don't ask.” I averted my gaze, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to see the heat I felt in my cheeks. “Just tell me, do you have a message for me?”

“Oh, yes. Right.” The messenger blinked at me for a moment, then carefully recited, “The Office of Peculiar Event Management is pleased to inform you that the Princess of Friendship has personally reclassified your case as a top priority, and that she will be expecting you at the Friendship Castle no later than tomorrow evening to investigate this creature and, if possible, return it to where it came from.”

I nodded. “Thank you.” Good. So it looked like my time with Tsunderplane wouldn't be too long after all.

But why didn't I feel happy about that?