//------------------------------//
// Chapter 7 
// Story: Her Life, In a Pan 
// by ThatGirl2147 
//------------------------------//

     The door to Pan Sear’s apartment creaked open slowly, revealing the green stallion. His mane was messy, his coat layered with sweat, and he let out a massive yawn. He looked to his sofa and noticed his lavender and mulberry friends, the latter of whom held a thick tan book in her hooves.

The pair looked up as they heard the door open, and Berry Punch giggled at the sight of Pan. “How was work?” asked she, play in her voice.

Pan let out a heavy sigh. “I think that everypony in that kitchen today deserves a bonus; the Dinner Rush was ridiculous.” He then noticed Berry’s tome, and asked her, “what’s that?”

Before Berry answered, she inhaled the scent of Pan after his shift. She began to feel slightly nauseous, but shook it away before she spoke. “Before I tell you,” said she firmly, “go take a bath and smell better.”

Pan smelled his own hoof, contorting his face from his own odour. “See what we mean?” asked Daisy, holding a hoof over her own snout. “Go freshen up, please.”

“Oh, alright,” complied the stallion in defeat. “I’m outvoted anyway.” With that, he entered his washroom.

Pan’s washroom was just as maintained as the rest of his apartment, and he kept the off-white walls, floor, and utilities as clean as possible. There was a shelf above his bathtub, and the contents of it alerted the stallion. Instead of his regular shampoo and other cleansing products, on his shelf stood three pink and purple bottles of what he recognised as Daisy Dreamer’s preferred brands.

“Well,” thought Pan, “that stuff does work really well. Why not?” He then prepared a couple towels and started his shower.

After about half an hour passed, Pan Sear emerged from his washroom past a wall of steam. He had a towel wrapped around his mane, and another draped over his back. Both mares took in the scent of lilac and lavender. “That’s much better,” remarked Daisy.

With a giggle, Berry added, “you smell like Daisy, Pan.”

Pan rolled his eyes. “That’s because...” He was then interrupted by Daisy.

“I swapped his stallionly product for something more mare-like,” finished the lavender mare. “And it also works wonders on hair like ours.” She ran a hoof through her luscious, full mane to punctuate her statement.

“Yeah,” agreed Pan with a light blush, “what she said. Anyway, what’s that book of yours, Berry?”

“This,” answered the mare dramatically, “is a psychology book; one that contains everything that the entirety of Canterlot’s Psychological Academy knows about Transgenderism.”

The green stallion’s eyes brightened at the answer, and he smiled joyously. “Well,” beamed he, “what does the Canterlot Psychological Academy know?”

“It’s got an entire chapter on the topic," replied Berry. “Apparently,” explained she, opening to a page in the book, “it’s a very rare condition, with only a hoofful of reported cases in the last twelve years before this book was published.” She read a side note to herself and repeated it aloud, “although, many believe that many more ponies suffer from the condition, but there are so few reports because so many ponies with the condition withhold from reporting it.” She then looked to her friend and said, melancholy in her voice, “a lot like you, Pan; so many transgendered ponies who were afraid to tell anypony.”

Pan nodded slowly. “I see,” replied he, lost in thought. “What else is there?”

Daisy Dreamer’s ears perked as she remembered something she read in the book. “It’s not limited to ponies,” answered she. When Pan and Berry focused on her, she continued, “there have also been reported cases of Zebras, Ibex, and even Gryphons who are Transgendered.”

“It’s true,” confirmed the mulberry mare as she read another point. “And, from what the scientists can understand, it’s not inherited, nor developed later in life; it is, however, a condition that is observable from birth.”

The stallion nodded again, but appeared bored, as though he were listening to a professor give a lecture about a certain topic. “Hmm, so I was born with it,” mused he. “Does it say anything about how to solve the problem?”

Berry began flipping through more pages, while Pan craned his head to view the contents of the pages. The mare came to the end of the chapter, and read the last few sentences of the last page. “It says that the academy is researching ways to alter one of the two factors of the afflicted pony: physical or mental. They’ve apparently made more headway in the physical aspect, though it’s not a lot.”

“But,” added Daisy, more thinking to herself than telling her two friends, “this book was published several years ago. They certainly must have made more progress since then.”

The stallion shrugged. “Probably,” agreed he nonchalantly. “I’m not worried about it at this moment. I am, however, worried about sleep.”

The lavender unicorn nodded in agreement. “Yeah; I’ve got a date with Sweet tomorrow.”

Pan leaked a light chuckle at the confession. “So you two are an item now, eh?”

“Surprised?” Daisy cocked her head slightly as she posed the question.

Pan shook his head. “Not really. He's in the military, he's loyal to a fault, and also very kind."

With that, the lavender mare turned her head towards the main door and trotted out. “I thought not. See you tomorrow,” said she as she departed to her own apartment.

“So,” began Berry Punch cautiously, her eyes looking about the room, “should I just take the sofa?”

The stallion held up a hoof. “Not at all, Miss Punch,” said he in a proper tone. “There is a perfectly usable bed in the next room. I will sleep on the sofa for the duration of your stay.”

The mulberry mare giggled, her face shifting to crimson. “And you say you don’t spoil me.” She then gave her friend a quick hug and walked towards Pan’s bedroom. “Goodnight, Pan. See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Berry,” said the stallion with a yawn. When he heard the door close, he switched the lights to the room off and returned to the sofa. He put both pillows on one side and lay his head down, falling asleep rather quickly.

The next day, about an hour before Pan Sear had to be at Captain Salt’s, he and Berry Punch had went to have lunch at a small restaurant called Maestro Bistro.

While musicians played on stage inside the bistro, several ponies opted to eat out in the open air, among them were Pan and Berry. The pair idly conversed as they listened to the faint music and enjoyed their meals.

“So, Berry,” inquired Pan casually, “how’s Ponyville been treating you?”

The mare thought about the question for a few seconds before she answered. “Oh, not bad,” replied she. “It’s hectic, to say the least; you’d be surprised at what happens in such a small town.”

Pan nodded. “I’m sure I would. Would you mind giving me some examples?”

“Not at all,” assured Berry, giving emphasis with her hooves.

Meanwhile, Midnight Blue trotted about the city at a leisurely pace, and she passed by Maestro Bistro. She glanced at the ponies about the eatery, when she noticed her two friends, eating at a table and talking. The mare went unnoticed by the pair, and she stood where she was and watched them. Berry was talking with her hooves, every movement accentuating whatever she said. When the mare sat down, the two shared a laugh.

The blue mare felt her face as it shifted from blue to crimson. She grumbled under her breath as she trotted on.

Berry inhaled deeply, for she was out of breath from laughter. “Yeah,” answered she, “that was one of the greatest days I’ve had in that town.”

Pan followed Berry’s lead of taking a deep breath as he ceased to laugh as well. “I can imagine. Anyway, this has been great, but I have to get to work.”

The mare nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s pay and get out of here.”

“Let’s?” questioned Pan. “oh, no; this is my treat, Berry.” The stallion put a sufficient pay and tip on the table before Berry could inhale to reply. When the server came and picked up the pay, the pair left.

“So,” began Berry as the pair walked toward’s Pan’s workplace, “what should I do the rest of the day?”

Pan shrugged. “I don’t know; just walk around, enjoy the city, maybe visit Daisy or something.”

“You’re right. I’ll see you later, Pan.” The mare kissed Pan on the cheek before she cantered off to explore her home city.

When Pan arrived at Captain Salt’s, he found that his coworkers were rather early. “Thar she blows!” exclaimed the stallion’s boss from just outside his office. “Now we can get this galley rolling! Turn to, Crew!” The stallion shouted the orders, and then retired to his office.

Pan readied up in the locker room, and by the time he got to the kitchen, a few ponies had come in and placed orders. He looked over the orders, and began to command his crew. “Alright,” said he, authoritative as a general in a warzone, “let’s get this kitchen up and running. Cutting Board, get on these salads. Fish Fry, you’re on the fryer. Stove Top, you’re with me on the grill.” He tore the orders into each individual salad, platter, and side and distributed them to their corresponding cooks.

The Dinner Rush was dealt with flawlessly, the crew seamless between each order. Everypony cheered at another successful Dinner Rush; everypony except for Fish Fry, who was simply cooling down in the locker room. “Hey, Fry,” greeted Pan Sear joyously as he joined his friend. “Why aren’t you celebrating? That was an outstanding performance.”

The stallion shrugged. “It was okay,” said he dismissively. “Why don’t you go and celebrate with your crew?”

“You’re part of the crew, too,” answered Pan, “and you should be out there with us.” When the stallion didn’t move, Pan sat down next to him. “Look, Fry, I’m not only your superior to boss you around; I’m also here to help you. Now tell me, what’s up?”

With that, Fish Fry stood up as tall as he could and barked, “what’s up?!” Pan jumped at the sudden shout, but Fry continued nonetheless. “I’ll tell you what’s up; you’re out there, prancing about with that little cross-dressing thing of yours out in the open. Have you no shame, Pan?!”

“What are you talking about, Fry?” asked Pan, not showing the emotional pain his friend’s outburst caused. “There’s no shame in it, anyway.”

“That’s what YOU think,” retorted the fry cook. He lowered his tone to a calm level, and continued, “look; I’ll follow your orders in the kitchen, just like I always have, and I’ll do just as good a job as I always have. But, other than professional business in this kitchen, I want nothing to do with you, Pan.”

The green chef gave a nonchalant shrug. “Okay,” said he calmly, “whatever. Let’s just get back to work.” With that, the pair returned to the kitchen and went about their jobs as though nothing happened betwixt them.

In the very last hour of the Evening Shift, a dark, smokey grey Earth Stallion with a slick maroon mane trotted up to the bar. He wore a pair of glasses over his green eyes, and a slick stiletto knife adorned his flank, the saddlebag he wore bearing a similar motif.

“Welcome to Captain Salt’s,” greeted Pan Sear with a smile. “May I take your order?”

“Yeah,” answered the stallion in a high, nasal voice. “I’d like a plate of crayfish and a nice flagon of cider.”

Pan nodded as he scrawled down the order. He then gave the order to the cooks, who didn’t need the stallion’s help for such a small order.

“So,” began the grey stallion, “you the one they call Pan Sear?”

Pan nodded. “That’s me,” answered he, holding a hoof to the customer.

“Name’s Switch Blade,” replied the stallion, accepting the chef’s hoof.

By the time the pair had exchanged greetings, Switch’s food and drink were ready. Pan grabbed the platter while Cutting Board held the flagon, and they brought both to the stallion. “Much obliged,” thanked he as he took a sip of cider and began opening crayfish shells.

Pan and Switch talked idly while the latter ate his meal. after a few minutes, the grey stallion produced twenty or so bits from his saddlebag and placed them on the counter. “That was a Canterlot-quality meal, Pan. My compliments to the chef. Keep the change.” With that, he took a toothpick and chewed on it as he departed.

“Come back soon,” suggested Pan as Switch left. “What a nice stallion,” mused he as he and his crew began to clock out, a fresh shift of ponies waiting to take on Graveyard.

As Pan trotted down the street, the cool, night air soothing his body from hours of working in a hot kitchen, he heard a voice just ahead of him; Switch Blade’s voice.

“Yo, Pan,” said the grey stallion, worry in his tone although he was nowhere to be seen. “Pan, you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here, Switch!” called Pan as he trotted forward, his vision obscured by the inky cover of night. “Where are you?”

After a few seconds, Switch finally replied. “I’m back here in the alley. A.. a dumpster started rolling toward me, and my hoof’s trapped under it.” He sounded extremely urgent as he requested, “c.. could you come down here and help me out?”

“Yeah! I’m on my way." Without missing a beat, the green stallion galloped down the alley to the nearest dumpster he could see, but he didn’t see the grey stallion. “I’m by a dumpster, Switch; where are you?” beckoned he to nopony in particular.

“Right behind you,” answered Switch, the worry and urgency in his tone having completely vanished.

As Pan turned around, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, and then two more in rapid succession. The spots began to feel wet as the stallion collapsed from the pain.

When Pan’s eyes adjusted to the darkness a few seconds later, he could barely make out the shape of the grey stallion, holding a small switchblade knife dripping with something in his hoof. It took him another few seconds to process what had happened.

“Rule Number One around here, Buddy,” said Switch, a devious grin adorning his face, “and that’s never trust nopony. My pal, Blend, said you was causing him some problems.” He then paused and came mere centimetres from Pan’s face and said, “well, problem solved.” With that, he let out a malicious cackle as he trotted out of the alley.

Pan could only lay there, his blood pooling beneath him. He tried to speak, to scream, but no sound came from his muzzle. The only sound he could hear was Switch Blade’s laughter. Then, he heard a stallion begin to shout, and police sirens. His vision then faded to white, and he heard nothing.