Danielle lay there in a haze, Mark sprawled out next to her. Without a doubt, that had been the most incredible experience of her life. She'd heard it said that women had it better, and maybe they did, but there was something more to the experience than just gender. When Dan and Mary had been intimate, it was mainly for the purpose of having children. Dan, like his father had taught him, wanted a son more than a daughter, so when their first two children turned out to be girls, they'd kept going until Jonathan was born. After that, Dan had the son he wanted - it had been a good seven years since they'd done anything. But now, now that Danielle was finally beginning to come out from under her father's shadow, it was more than just procreation behind their sex. (As a matter of fact, procreation hadn't even entered into the equation - Danielle hadn't thought about the fact that she was capable of pregnancy before their spur-of-the-moment lovemaking.) It was love, a love that had been pretty dormant since their wedding. And if it meant that this love would stay as strong as it was now, Danielle didn't think she'd mind being a woman. Mind still reeling from the experience, she plunged into unconsciousness.
Danielle was in a field. Mark was there as well. Both of them were naked. It was a gorgeous day out - warm, sunny, with a gentle, cool breeze blowing through the tall grass. She sat down next to Mark and he put his arm around her shoulder. They snuggled, happy just to be with each other, for what seemed like hours. Suddenly, Danielle's ears pricked up. Her kids were arguing with someone else - she couldn't make out any of the words, but the children sounded more than a little scared. Springing to her feet, she dashed off in the direction the sound came from, Mark close behind.
It wasn't long before they found the kids. They were huddled together, the two girls clinging to Kevin's side. The other voice turned out to be none other than the last person Danielle wanted to see - her father. "Goddammit," he was shouting, "first fags and now dykes? What the fuck kind of father has my son been without someone around to show him how it's done!?"
The girls were plainly scared. Kevin seemed a little shaken, but was holding his own. "Don't call me a dyke," he said. "I'm not and I never was." Danielle's father spat. "So you're a girl who wants to get turned into a boy and fuck girls instead of a girl who just wants to fuck girls," he snarled. "Big difference."
Kevin's ears went back. "That's not why I wanted to be male," he said, managing to keep his temper under control, though his tail was thrashing in an agitated fashion. "I don't care what anybody thinks it was about, but that's not what it was about. I've finally been given what I always wished for, and I'm not going to let anybody make me feel ashamed for it. And I don't want you talking like this to my sisters, ever."
Danielle's father was clearly about to lose it on Kevin. "Mark," she whispered, clutching his shoulder, "do something!" Mark looked at her and shook his head. "I'm sorry, honey," he said. "I'd do anything for you and the kids, especially when you're in danger, but this is your dream, not mine. This isn't a problem I can fix for you, as much as I want to. You need to take care of this yourself. Just because you're a woman now doesn't mean you have to be weak, and you're not. You can do it, love." He put his arm on her shoulder, kissed her on the cheek, and propelled her towards the conflict.
Taking a deep breath, Danielle stepped forward. "That goddamn heart condition!" her father was shouting. "Went and took me out of action when I was needed the most. God, if I hadn't died your father wouldn't be the kind of fuck-up that lets his kids go gay and lets his girls get out of line."
"You're half right," Danielle said. "As a father, I am a failure." Her father turned to her and sneered. "Damn right, boy. And if you know what's good for your kids-" She held up her hand. "But it wouldn't be better if you were still alive," she said. "It'd be worse. It'd be much worse. I spent most of my life being cowed by you into being something that I wasn't made to be, and even when you died I couldn't get past what you drilled into me. Ultimately, the fault is mine for not forcing myself to rethink what you taught me, but if you hadn't taught me that way in the first place, I wouldn't have had to."
"Look at yourself!" her father sneered. "Standing around naked with another man, disregarding everything your father taught you! I know what you've been doing with your wife! What the hell kind of man are you!?"
Danielle smiled sadly. "I'm not," she said. "I never was. If I was anything, I was a pale image of a man. A real man doesn't do what I did. I didn't spend practically any time showing my wife that I loved her. I tried to make my kids into what I was taught they should be, instead of letting them be who they are and helping them mature in the areas they needed to. And worst of all, I let you bully me into doing all that, even when you were dead. I wasn't any kind of man at all thanks to you. And Mark," she said, gesturing to her husband, who was smiling proudly as he watched her finally confront her problems, "is more a man than I ever was and I'm grateful to have him as my husband." Her father glared at her and was about to say something else, but she cut him off. "I'm finally getting past what I should have years ago," she said. "And I'm not going to let you get in the way of that. Now get out of my mind. I hope I never think of you again."
Her father had been getting angrier as she spoke, and he lunged at her, fist approaching rapidly. Squaring her shoulders, she held out both hands to block him and shut her eyes tight. Mark watched, unable to do anything but somehow knowing she would be all right. They made contact, and to everyone's surprise the image of Danielle's father shattered into countless pieces as it smashed into her outstretched hands. Opening her eyes, she saw what had happened. It was over, and he was gone. She was free, but she couldn't help feeling pity for the thing her father had become. She began to sob, and when Mark ran up to her she collapsed into his arms. They sank to the ground together and he held her tight. The tears were bittersweet - her father was gone, but his weight had been lifted from her spirit. As her children came up to help comfort her, the tears gradually subsided and the dream ended.