"I don't believe you," I heard her walk around the bed too quickly for me to be able to turn and face away from her. "You've been crying, what's wrong?"

"You know what's wrong," I sobbed at her.

"Well I might if you tell me."

"I'm not a real woman," I sobbed.

Easy As Falling Off To Sleep (and more interesting than this).
by wassername 'n her cat.
part: 17.8333' dozen.

"You quite like her don't you?" said Stella.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been looking out of that window quite wistfully since you spoke to her."

"I was wondering if it would stay light long enough for a bike ride," I lied.

"I don't believe you, you're looking as broody as an old hen."

"What do you mean?"

"You're thinking about children."

"Don't be ridiculous, I can't have children, besides I can't stand children." I turned and walked briskly out of the room, then ran upstairs to my bedroom and flung myself on the bed.

Stella was absolutely right, the bitch or should that be witch! Damn her, how can she read my mind like that? Then my irritation turned to sadness. I don't know what sort of father I'd have made, so what sort of mother is a non starter. No matter how clever the scientists and doctors get, I still won't be able to have kids, I don't have ovaries nor a womb. I can't even produce sperm anymore after taking hormones for so long.

I felt a tear form and run down my cheek, then one formed in the other eye and copied the process. Before long drip of scalding salt water were running down my face and I was howling.

Until recently, I was so involved or consumed by avoiding anyone guessing about me that I hadn't much thought about anything else. Now I had time to begin to plan beyond becoming as female as I could, and something important was lacking.

I began to question what I was? I patently wasn't much of a man, and it began to look as if I wouldn't make much of a woman either. I was so envious of Janice Scott having Jemima, and she had been envious of me because I was marrying a title. I felt so angry, she was so superficial, why should she have children and me not? Life was so unfair. I did the only thing any self respecting Victorian heroine would do, I howled some more.

"You alright?" asked Stella's voice.

I was too full up to say anything, but nodded, my back towards her.

"I don't believe you," I heard her walk around the bed too quickly for me to be able to turn and face away from her. "You've been crying, what's wrong?"

"You know what's wrong," I sobbed at her.

"Well I might if you tell me."

"I'm not a real woman," I sobbed.

"Oh, back to that are we. Why not this time?"

"You know why."

"Oh the kiddiwinks business?"

I nodded, feeling a fresh batch of tears run down my face.

"I don't have kids, so doesn't that make me less than a real woman?"

"Don't be silly," I sniffed, "you just choose not to have them." I felt myself blush very hard when I thought back to Stella's recent termination.

"Yes I suppose I did, how wise that was remains to be seen. Ironic I suppose, here you are wishing you could get pregnant and I killed a baby. Oh poor Cathy." She rubbed my back.

Maybe life was ironic, or even moronic. I knew that lots of real females couldn't conceive or carry a pregnancy for a multitude of reasons, so what did I have to complain about?

"You're entitled to do what you want with your body," I offered as non judgementally as I could. "After all, you're not telling me what to do with mine."

"You're merely correcting an oversight," she said to me.

"Perhaps you were too."

"Yeah, some oversight that was," she said bitterly, "stupidity, it's my middle name."

"That would make you SS Cameron, sounds like an old boat." I said and chuckled.

"Old boot," she laughed, "is more like it."

We sat together for a little while comforting the other, which was nice.

"You could always have some sperm frozen."

"What?"

"You know in a sperm bank, they freeze it and it could be used at a later date."

"What for?"

"Making babies."

"What?"

"In vitreo stuff, you know test tube babies."

"Where are they going to get the sperm from?"

"Didn't you do lessons on the birds and the bees? For a biologist you don't seem to know much about it, do you."

"What! I do tutorials on reproductive cycles. I also know my goolies don't produce sperm any more."

"Ah, that could make sperm storage a bit difficult."

"How about impossible?"

"That too."

"So there we are, I'm destined to be a simulacrum."

"Isn't that book by Tolkien?"

"No that's the Simarilion, or something."

"Oh," she looked at my feet, "I wondered if I was going to have my very own Hobbit."

"Very funny! Your feet are nearly as big as mine."

"Yes, don't remind me." She paused for a couple of minutes, "So how do you feel about the surgery?"

"Okay, why?"

"No second thoughts?"

"No, none."

"Good."

"Why, did you think I was having some?"

"Not at all."

"Or did you think it could be a mistake?"

"No, why should I?"

"No reason. I'm sorry I fell apart earlier."

"All things considered, it doesn't seem incongruent with your life as it is."

"Yeah, congruence, wonderful word isn't it."