Mornings are for murders.

Yet another alarm clock succumbed to my equine rage as my sleep-deprived hoof came down on the clanging thing and ended its short, but valiant life of waking sleepers from the dead in an orgiastic explosion of gears, springs, and assorted screws. One of its bells rolled on the floor in a final desperate attempt to finish the clock’s mission, and as it rattled to a stop it did so with the satisfaction of a job well done.

“Well shit,” I muttered, looking at the devastation I had wrought. “Guess it’s time to wake up.”

“James, you up?” called the lovely voice of my partner from downstairs. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Be there in a minute,” I groaned back, tumbling out of the bed to land on all four hooves in a perfect touch down, knees flexed as they took up the impact of my weight.

As I straightened back up, I took stock of things. Knees were working, heart was pumping, lungs breathing. That is until I took a look at the long mirror on the wall, and what I saw made me catch my breath as memories washed through me.

My name is James Allens, and I used to be a human. An average, ordinary, twenty-something out to make his mark in the world. Until I answered a very strange job ad run by a very strange person for a very strange company that literally offered me bags of gold to become a cross-dimensional pony express delivering packages of chaos throughout the multiverse.

Of course, a pony express needs ponies, and I quickly found out that I was intended to be said pony, but before you go, “James, are you an idiot? Why didn’t you run like hell?” I’d like to remind you of said bags of gold.

So like any good American capitalist I signed on the dotted line and sacrificed my body for cash and let Discord, the actual Spirit of Chaos, turn me into a pony fuzzball complete with hooves, a mane and a tail. As it turns out, being turned into another species neither gives you automatic knowledge of how to use your new body, nor does it turn you into an escapee from the Horny Jail, looking to reoffend.

So after about a month of learning to use my new body productively… stop snickering, I started criss-crossing the multiverse dropping off packages and the bits of chaos I left in my wake livened things up across the board. I’ve been to Picard’s Enterprise and even have a signed group photo from them. Been to a lot of other places as well, including Skyrim.

Which is where things went south.

I was delivering a package to the Dragonborn, when I got tangled up in a conspiracy involving Mara and her plot to take over the pantheon of gods and goddesses that rule over Nirn. Long story short, I lost my humanity, barely avoided becoming Mara’s version of Barnabas, and then… died. Or nearly so.

The only reason I’m still alive is that Discord pulled another transformation out of his mismatched butt and gave me a new body. Problem was, my stored humanity got lost in the process and the only way to make a new body for my spirit was to use that of my best friend, Derpy Hooves as a template. So instead of being a red blooded stallion, I’m now a red flanked and rosy cheeked mare. Permanently.

I’m still getting used to the proportions, and while the plumbing is definitely different I haven’t had to deal with the “time of the month” yet. Mainly because mares are apparently only fertile in the spring and fall, instead of every month of the year like humans.

“James! Your muffins are getting cold,” called Derpy from downstairs, breaking me out of my reverie.

“Coming!” I called back, and clopped out of my bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Hi James,” chirped little Dinky, Derpy’s cute as a button daughter who was busy burying a muffin in an obscene amount of maple syrup.

“Canadian syrup makers are cackling with glee right now,” I muttered, sliding into place.

“What was that?” Derpy asked, setting down a pair of carrot muffins for me.

“Nothing!” I instantly riposted, filling my treacherous mouth with delicious baked goods before I could say anything that could get me in trouble.

Derpy was gentle, sweet and bubbly; except where Dinky was concerned. Any threat or insult to the little unicorn was guaranteed to turn the shy mailmare into the warrior pegasus, that I had learned was both her birthright and her curse. So I took another mouthful of muffin to keep my tongue busy, which is when my stomach informed me that maybe the first mouthful might have been more of a baked bad than good and that a hasty retreat was likely in order.

“Hurk,” I grunted a minute later, as I prayed to “Nice and Cold”, that most porcelain of gods.

“I don’t know what went wrong,” Derpy commented, rubbing my back. “I’ve used that recipe tons of times and me and Dinky are fine.”

I spent a few more minutes of making offerings to the god of late night inebriation before my stomach got back on an even keel and we made our way back to the kitchen.

“You okay?” Derpy asked, worry in her voice.

“Seems better now,” I answered, reaching into our fridge and pulling out some ginger ale that was there. “Good thing I’m seeing Doctor Stable for my work check up this morning.”

“You sure you’re ready to go back to work? It’s only been a couple of months since… “ Derpy’s voice trailed off as the memories of the death of my body flooded through me.

I won’t go into the details, but let’s just say it was one of the nastier ways to go and that I still have regular nightmares. Nightmares that the other mare in my life, Princess Luna, takes great pains to try to ward off with a regrettably low success rate. While my body might be all mare, my psyche is apparently all too human with all too human night terrors.

Let’s just say it’s a work in progress.

“Yeah,” I heard myself say. “I’m good.”

“Then why is the soda can shaped like that?” Derpy asked.

Looking down I saw that what had been a tin of ginger ale was more of an hourglass made by Escher. My gaze travelled from the can to a pair of worried walleyed eyes that wanted nothing but the best for me.

“I just… I just need to get out and do things. You know?” I asked, setting down the wrecked can. “I gotta move, gotta get around. I’ve got… I dunno what I’ve got.”

“Itchy hooves,” Dinky provided. “Your hooves are itchy and you wanna scratch them on the ground.”

Kids. Wiser than Solomon and Einstein combined.

“Yeah. Itchy Hooves. I better go get them checked out,” I replied, ruffling Dinky’s mane.

“I don’t like it, but okay,” Derpy acquiesced. “As long as I walk you there, and to work.”

“Hey, you’re the bossmare,” I quipped back.

“And don’t you forget it,” Derpy half-threatened, moving in for a quick nuzzle that settled the issue.

Troubles packed away in our metaphorical kit bags the three of us headed out, and after a detour to drop Dinky off at school, I once again found myself walking the familiar corridors of Ponyville General again. I exchanged greetings with several nurses and orderlies who had helped me during my original physical therapy where I learned how to operate a pony body until it was just as responsive as my human body had been.

“Come in,” called the genial voice of the good doctor, when we knocked on his office door.

“Ah James, good to see you,” continued the doctor, a brown maned unicorn stallion. “How’s marehood treating you?”

“He’s been off his feed for four days now and today he threw up,” Derpy interjected. I hadn’t realized Derpy was keeping that close of tabs on me.

“This come on suddenly?” Hooves asked, as he started to probe my chest with an excessively cold stethoscope. Seriously, is it a universal thing that all doctors keep their stuff in a freezer? Bears looking into.

“And he’s got itchy hooves too. Wants to go to work no matter how dumb it is.”

“Hey, I’m right here,” I protested. “Literally right here.”

“I think his belly is swollen a bit too,” Derpy continued, unabated and unaffected by reality. “Is it croup Doctor? Or what about Wellerman’s Syndrome? Or maybe—”

“Hmmm,” muttered the doctor, causing my overprotective marefriend to pause her litany of my potential diseases in an attempt to hear what dreaded thing I’d contracted. “Lungs are clear, heart is strong, marefriend is showing guarding behaviour, patient is irritable, nauseous and off their feed. Hmmm.”

“I’m not pregnant, am I?” I asked with a laugh.

“We are well past spring and fall is still awhile away, so I doubt it, but why don’t you fill up this little cup for me and I’ll make sure,” Dr. Stable answered, levitating the aforementioned cup to me. “You can go behind the screen for some privacy. And besides, I can use the sample to test for several other things as well.”

“Are you seriously…” my voice trailed off, while taking the cup and obediently going behind the screen while muttering various things that would get me in trouble if I said them anywhere around Dinky.

A minute later I dropped the now sealed cup on the counter, giving both the other ponies in the room the stink eye. “There’s your sample. Enjoy.”

Dr. Stable had obviously been immunized against snark by being exposed to it in the past as my commentary flew right past him. Popping off the top of the container with his magic, he dropped in a yellow stick of some sort, which sat there for a solid two minutes before changing to a deep blue.

I was at a loss for words.

“So,” began the doctor, “who’s the lucky stallion?”

“I…”

“James, have you been cheating on me and Luna?” Derpy demanded, wings flaring for a moment before a thought struck her. “Not that either of us would mind sharing. We shared you, after all.”

“But Doc!” I said, interrupting that train of memories. “I haven’t been with any stallions. I haven’t had… um… relations, with any stallions. At all.”

“Ah, the Special Spell,” Dr. Stable commented, giving me a nudge and conspiratorial wink. “I should have known. Well we can certainly—“

“NO! No stallions, no special spell, no nothing,” I interjected, strongly. “I can not be pregnant. Not will not, not should not. Can not.”

“Hmm, seeing as you're that sure an ultrasound would confirm the results or rule out a false positive,” said the doctor, rubbing his chin in thought. “I can schedule one for you in the next couple of days.”

“I’m supposed to go back to work today though,” I shot back.

After doing nothing but sitting around the house and yard for the past two months I didn’t just have “itchy hooves”, I was bored out of my skull. Yes, I still had sweats and night terrors, but I also had some of the best mental health pe—ponies I’d ever met working on things with me. All being at home was doing was giving my mind time to dredge even more interesting nightmare fuel out of a lack of something to do. I’d rather be working than coming up with more what-if scenarios in my mind.

“Other than probably being pregnant there’s absolutely nothing I’m concerned about with you, James. If you want to go to work I’ll sign off on your medical clearance,” Stable declared, adding, “As long as you come in for that ultrasound so that we can get a confirmation and an estimated due date.”

“You can’t let him work! He’s pregnant!” Insisted Derpy, clutching me by one wing.

“Probably pregnant, and medically speaking, he can work up until a couple of months before he’s due without any danger to his potential foal,” Stable responded.

“But…”

“I should point out that you worked during your pregnancy,” Stable countered, and I could see from the look on my marefriend’s face that the shot had gone home.

“You fight dirty, Doc,” was the grey pegasi’s response.

“As his herdmate I do expect you to keep an eye on him, make sure he eats right, does the right kinds of exercise, and starts seeing me for prenatal care on a regular basis,” the unicorn added, continuing to demonstrate his invulnerability to personal attacks, all while giving Derpy something to clutch onto. Which she did with a will.

“You bet!” Derpy agreed, snapping out a salute that would have done a Wonderbolt proud. “I’ll make sure he takes good care of our foal.”

Some dust got into my eye when Derpy used the word, “our”. Stupid dust. It had to be dust because guys don’t get all teary at the thought of having a family of their own.

I promised the doc I’d be in for an ultrasound the day after I got back from wherever Discord was sending me for my first job, and Derpy and I set off for the offices of The Pony Express to give our boss the good news. Derpy chatted up a storm, while the thought that I might actually be pregnant really started to sink in.

I, was probably pregnant, and that’s not something men can do. Ergo, I wasn’t male anymore. I was female. My mind kept rolling around on that while Derpy kept on talking, not realizing that the conversation was all one-sided until just before we got to the expanded barn that was our HQ.

“...and no Pinkie Punch for now and I need to talk to Tree Hugger about any good herbs or meditations she knows about—” Derpy was saying, before taking a breath. “James, are you okay? Do we need to go back to Doctor Stable?”

“It just really hit me. I’m a mare now. I’m not a guy anymore,” I said, mind reeling as I my gender change started to really sink in for the first time since it had happened two months ago. “I don’t know what I am.”

“You’re my special somepony, that’s what you are,” Derpy said, folding me into her light grey wings.

For long moments we just sat there as I breathed in the warmth and comfort that was freely offered. Ponies don’t hide public displays of affection and so we were undisturbed as soft feathers held me in a tight embrace even as the gentle smell of Derpy’s mane soothed my agitated mind.

“Thanks,” I muttered, getting another piece of dust in my eye.

“It’s okay,” Derpy soothed, wiping away the moisture from my face with delicate care. “We can still go home if you want.”

“No, I’ve got to do this,” I said, straightening up and shelving my mental issues for later. After all, a mare’s gotta do what a mare’s gotta do.

Derpy took her cue and released me from her hold of steel wrapped in velvet. Pegasi all have strong wings. No one notices that much because their feathers are so soft.

“Discord’s been good about paying me while I’ve been laid up, but it’s time to get some work done cause I’m sure the packages have been stacking up,” I added, throwing another excuse to get back to work onto the pile.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” Derpy replied, scuffing a hoof and looking a bit embarrassed. “I didn’t want you to worry or anything.”

Five minutes later I was standing in my boss’s office. For all that he’s an eldritch entity and the Oh My Godfather of Chaos, Discord does occasionally love his little lapses into the realms of Order. Such as having an actual office with an actual desk. Even if said desk sat perfectly level with just one leg instead of four.

“James!” Discord enthused, “Good to see you. How are things holding up? Ready to head back out into the wild weird yonder?”

“About that,” I began, before an earth pony I didn’t recognize burst in.

“Chief!” cried the wide-eyed stallion. “Package Pile 14 is destabilizing. If she goes it could take out half of Ponyville with it.”

“Get the Schmooze on it, and while that loveable slime is glomming up from the bottom, you and the others redistribute to the piles on either side,” Discord ordered, suddenly every inch in command. The door closed and I guess my face looked a little shocked at how bad things had gotten around the office.

“You’re still the best pony we’ve ever had, and while we do have a few other delivery ponies besides you now,” he paused to ruffle Derpy’s mane affectionately, “things have gotten a little backed up without you here. So, ready to strap on those saddlebags?”

“Um, about that,” I said, and I had to look away as Discord’s face dropped. Like literally dropped. He had to pick it back up off the floor.

“James…” he began, warningly.

“It’s not that, I can go to work today. It’s just down the road there may be a small problem,” I told my boss, holding up a hoof to try to forestall any further protests.

“How small?” Discord asked, suspicion writ large on his face. With a felt marker. I swear there isn’t anything Discord won’t do for a sight gag.

“Foal sized,” I replied back, deliberately drawing things out. You can’t get much over on a spirit, but this time I think I had him. “I might be a little bit pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” asked Discord, clearly surprised and oddly pleased. “I always knew you adapted well to new situations, but I have to say I’m really impressed at you diving into one of the most fun-damental parts of being a mare. Who’s the lucky stallion?”

“That’s the thing, we don’t know. And before you jump to conclusions it’s not a mare either, and it may not be an actual pregnancy anyway,” I blurted out. Something in Discord’s comment about embracing my mare-dom slammed my mental issues back into the fore of my mind. “Dr. Stable says he wants to do an ultrasound tomorrow to be sure.”

“Ultrasound, pshaw,” Discord scoffed. “What does that quack know anyway? Let me have a look.”

Before I could say or do anything Discord swept me up and quite literally held me up to the ceiling light, peering back and forth as if he could see through me.

“Discord!” Derpy complained. “Put him down.”

“Take a look at this,” Discord said, elongating a finger to tap a spot on my belly. “Does that look like a foal to you?”

“OHMYGOSH OHMYGOSH OHMYGOSH OHMYGOSH,” the words practically flying out of my marefriend, before erupting into a full on squeal of delight. “You ARE pregnant.”

“Which means,” Discord said with a sigh, as he lowered me back down. “We need to put you on light duties for the foreseeable future. And I’d had such hopes of having you deliver some packages to Sir Integra Van Helsing.”

“Sorry,” was all I could think of to say.

“Don’t be,” Discord said with a smile. “This is a wonderful time in any adult’s life. Enjoy it. Besides, there’s more than enough light runs to do, and while you’re on the job, I’ll see what I can do about tracking down the other parent to your bundle of joy.”

“Thanks Discord, I appreciate that,” I replied.

I really did appreciate it too. Equestria may have a lot of things, but immaculate conceptions and virgin births were not among them. Plus, I was pretty sure I hadn’t been hit by a shower of gold, ravaged by a bull, visited by the holy or unholy spirit, gotten drunk and knocked up, or even had… maritals at all. And while Discord may not have been omniscient, omnipotent and an eternal asshole like his cousin Q, Discord usually had a decent head on his shoulders and genuinely cared about those he formed friendships with.

So I was reasonably confident he'd be able to track down who had stuck a bun in my oven.

“In the meantime, let's get you outfitted with your new gear,” Discord said, carrying on, “And I’ve got just the job to get you back into the swing of things. An easy job. In fact, it’s not even a delivery at all.”

“Oh?” Derpy and I chorused together. We looked at each other at that, and our muzzles nearly touched in that reflexive glance before we both shyly looked away.

“You two are adorable, simply adorable,” Discord chuckled. “But as for the job, it’s a simple one pony run to make a quick pickup for Princess Celestia.”

“We make runs to other dimensions,” I objected, frowning. “What does Celestia want with something from another world?”

“Tea,” Discord replied, giggling as me and Derpy’s jaws went slack. “You’re headed out to get Sunbutt some otherworldlyl tea from an old friend of hers known simply as, ‘Doctor’.”

“Doctor?” I asked, “Doctor who?”

“I believe so,” Discord answered. “I believe so.”

Author's Note

So welcome back to Mail Troubles. The first Mail Troubles was straight up a test bed for a lot of story ideas. Some good, some bad, and some which downright sucked. About the best thing was learning that I could indeed write in the first person. I was frankly shocked that it became a very popular story of mine considering the story's otherwise deep flaws.

Which has made me want to do sequel for a long time now. A sequel that would keep to the original episodic promise of the first one and avoid any arc that went more than 2-3 chapters.

My so-called Brightly Break was the ideal time and place to do it, and so here we are. As you've read the first story will be taking us to visit everyone's favourite Gallifreyan, The Doctor.