The van arrived at wherever it was going and Robert, still handcuffed but now dressed at least, was lead inside. They ran her through paperwork and a brief note-taking on her change in appearance; it was all very mundane, but that only left her freer to think about what was happening. She was...she was in a prison! She was going to be locked up with real criminals...what would happen to her here!? Stories she'd heard came flooding in upon her...she knew what men's prisons were reputed to be like, but could female criminals be any better, really?
They took her to a plain barred cell and left her inside, sitting on a bench, far more nervous than she cared to admit. God would protect her...he had to. He would see that no harm came to her, not while she remained in His will...
"Wh-what's going to happen?" she squeaked, her voice quavering. The policewoman who'd led her down here rolled her eyes. "Now you sit tight for a few days while the fire department finishes assessing the damage," she said. "Then you get to make visits to the courthouse for another few days while they decide what to do about restitution. It's not that complicated." She closed and locked the door and walked off, and Robert was alone, in prison.
She looked around, nervously. God would protect her...He was faithful to those who followed Him. He never let her down...
...yet her eyes were drawn down to her new form. Why? Why had He allowed this? If He wanted her to seek out the den of evil the devil-girl had spoken of, why could He not open the way Himself? Why did she have to be...
No! It was not her place to question His will. She would...she would endure. She had to. Millions had...had...
...had never had their very identities ripped from them, had they? Robbed of wealth, or family, or even life, but always true to their faith, always true in their integrity. Yet here she was, changed by force into a servant of the Enemy, or the body thereof. But there must be a reason...
She realized she was hyperventilating now, her heart rate soaring. She was...she was afraid...please, let this stop! Please, this couldn't be real! It couldn't, it just couldn't! It-
She nearly jumped out of her changed skin when she heard a guttural noise of disgust from the next cell over. "Well, don't you just have 'first-timer' written all over you," a voice said.
Robert turned to look, trying to steady her nerves. The speaker was a woman in maybe her early thirties, and the way she was dressed left little doubt as to why she was here. She sighed. "For Christ's sake, calm down, girl," she said. "You're in the county jail, not maximum security. Jesus."
The transformed pastor scowled, partly at the blasphemy but more at being called a girl. She was already keenly aware of what had happened to her; indeed, she couldn't escape the feelings her new body brought. She didn't need this woman, of all people, calling her a...a...!
"I am a man!" she snapped. She'd meant for it to thunder, but it just sounded petulant.
The woman snorted. "Explains why you can't keep your attention off your tits," she said. Robert cringed as she realized that she was, in fact, glancing down at her chest again, and tore her gaze away.
"There's a lot more to explore than those, you know," she continued. "Or you would, if you paid any attention. Probably one of those three-minute 'well, I'm done, good night' types, huh? Eh, I'm sure you'll figure things out just fine now."
Robert flushed and clenched her teeth. "Enough!" she shouted. "I never-I...I...don't talk to me of such things, harlot!"
The woman laughed. "Oh, real charming. At least I admit it, you know? You just get turned into a woman and then keep staring at and fiddling with your new bits and then pretend that's not what you're doing. Hypocrite."
Robert seethed, and stormed off to the other side of the cell. How dare she! She...she couldn't listen to this. She had to resist temptation, not entertain such thoughts. "God help me!" she murmured. The prostitute said something sarcastic, but she wasn't listening.
She had to get her mind off this...had to do something else, something worthwhile. If the devil-girl was right, if she hadn't been lying, then it sounded like there was a place where the Enemy gathered. And if the passage to a heavenly place was indeed found in a church, then surely a place where sinners were gathered, a place like this, could be the door to that place, right? If God had given her this body to seek it out and purify it, she would go in, and...and...
...how would she go in? The devil-girl hadn't actually mentioned anything about getting there. Perhaps it was like the heavenly realm, that she could find a door like the one the angel-girl had opened to help the devil spread her corruption...she would open a door to Hell and spread light within.
But where was a door? The only one present was her cell door, which she had no chance of opening...was she stuck here, then? That couldn't be! If she had a mission, why would she be forced to wait? Why would...
Robert shuddered as her tail absent-mindedly curled around her leg, gently brushing against it. Her brain was yanked from her train of thought to an acute awareness of all the sensations of her new body - the gentle quaking of her breasts with her breath, the feel of her tail, wrapped around her, her...her...
No! She had to think of something else! To get herself back under control! But as a man, Robert had never really learned to control his physical desires, preferring instead to quash them before they started, the better to remain holy. Now they were already started, and whether through some sick facet of her change or simply due to the sheer unfamiliarity of the feelings, they were already strong, so that she couldn't simply make them go away...she was...she was...
"Please, Lord," she whispered. "Please...help me." The last two words had a ragged, husky edge to them, a pleading tone entirely different than what she'd intended.
"I just don't get it," David said. "Why was she a pastor at all? She's the kind of person that gives you people a bad name!" People like her were...well, not really the reason David hadn't gotten into religion, but a contributing factor, at least.
The tree-man sighed, a great slow creak from root to branch. "I could say...that Robert has been...altered by the sun...even before he...was changed by it," he said. "But...that would not...be honest. Father Douglas has always...struggled with pride...with placing himself above...all the rest of...the sinners in the world. I fear...he fancies himself...a martyr. It is one of...the great diseases of...the church today."
"But..." he said, a breeze gently rustling his leaves, "the weak among us...do not become stronger...by being ostracized. Before the sun...Robert was at least...less extreme in his...beliefs, if not...fundamentally different. Milder at least...so that he could...serve our congregation. I am sorry that...he has lost control...of his feelings; but even I cannot...overlook such rash...disregard for others...and for property, not when...he shows no remorse... I am...sorry you girls...were dragged into this."
David shook her head. "We're just glad nobody was hurt, and that it's fixable," she said.
The tree-pastor smiled, wistfully. "Indeed. But...it remains to be seen...whether the board will...see fit to repair it...some have said that...a new building would...be a better solution...others that it...would be cheaper to rent."
"What?" Rachel said. "You can't just let a perfectly cool old building like that go to waste!"
He smiled. "I concur...it is both a precious relic...and a home for our...congregation. Rest assured that...I will see it restored if...it is at all possible."
The devil-girl sighed in relief. "Good."
"And you...David, angel-changed?" the pastor said. "If I may ask...did you simply come...to chat? Or did you...have a question...for me?"
David frowned. Did she? She hadn't come here looking for answers; indeed, she hadn't even known of Mr. Maxwell's existence until about half an hour ago, when Rachel mentioned it. But now that he brought it up...
"...Friday night," she said. "My sisters and I...just knew we needed to be out somewhere, even in the middle of the storm." She explained the events of that night. "I-I just have to know," she said, "if we're not...real angels, why did we...have to do that?"
He frowned. "I don't know...for sure," he said. "But I believe...the Lord has a purpose...for all of these changes...no matter how minor. You are not angels...in a literal sense...but that does not mean...that the symbolism was...an accident."
The angel-girl frowned. "So what does that imply?"
"I...do not know," he said. "Though I believe...it will become clear...in His good time."
"Alex...?" Andy called as she gently opened the door to her son-turned-daughter's room. "We were thinking of going down to the park today. Would you like to come with?"
The dragon-girl looked up from the book she was perusing. The park? That did sound fun. But...what was...what was with her dad today?
"Is something wrong?" the rabbit-woman asked. "Y-you don't have to if you don't want to..." Did she push too far? It seemed innocent enough, but with the way things had been...
Alex shook her head. "No, it...it sounds fun. It's just...Dad, what's up with you? You're...acting different..."
Andy paused and thought about it, then nodded. "I guess I am," she said. "I'm sorry, Alex, it's just...to be honest, it's been so long since I spent time with you or Sally that...I just don't really know how to act...I'm sorry, if I hadn't been..."
Alex shook her head. "No, don't feel that way," she said. "It's just...I barely know what's happening to me, and when I saw you acting different, I thought..."
"You thought I was...becoming a girl?" Andy asked. Her daughter nodded, sheepishly.
She sighed. "Alex, I...I don't know what's happening to me. I feel clearer now, and your mother and I have been...patching things up, but...I guess I haven't really stopped to question it. Right now all I really know is...I'm not headed down the path I was. And I want it to stay that way...everything else is secondary."
Alex stared at her for a while, then sighed. Her dad had enough problems...she didn't need to be piling onto them. She put on a smile and joined her father, going downstairs.
The bunny-girl was met at the bottom of the stairs by her mate. She stared at the naga-man, taking in the details of his form, just letting them sink in. Then he embraced her, arms around her waist, lifting her just slightly, enough to put her on her toes. "Andy," he whispered in her furry ear, "I'm...I'm glad you're...my wife."
She paused for a moment, taking in what she'd just heard. This was...both a compliment and a question, wasn't it? "I...I'm glad you're..." How to put this diplomatically?
...oh, who was she kidding? "I'm glad you're...my husband," she murmured, nuzzling against his chest.
