Old Endings, New Beginnings

Disclaimer: I do not own BallykisAngel or any of it's characters.

"He's mine, so you can eat your heart out."

Chapter One: Father?

"What am I going to do?"

"What do ya mean, Peter?"

Peter Clifford blinked a few times, then smiled at Asumpta's confusion. "I meant, what am I going to do for a living."

"Ah, well now, what will you do about that." She mused, swinging her arms as they walked. "I guess the church is out of the question."

Peter chuckled, "Yes, I do think you are right about that." He paused and looked back at BallykissAngel. "How 'bout the bar?"

Assumpta played surprised, "What? You, in the bar?"

"Well, yeah, why not? Seems like you could use a bit of a hand in there."

Assumpta moved a piece of hair out of her face. "But I hardly know you; for all I know, you could be an alcoholic, and-"

Peter grinned, "Who do you have watchin' the place right now, then?"

"Um, er, Brenden, Siobhan, and Padrig." He gave her a look. "Okay, you've made your point. The job's yours."

"Yes!" Peter dramatically cried while Assumpta rolled her eyes and continued, "I've got to get back. See ya there, 'father'."

Peter sighed dreamily as he watched her walk away.

…

Later, at the food contest in Fitzgerald, when everyone was laughing and drinking, Peter pulled Assumpta aside. "I love you."

Shocked, she gaped at his soft gaze. Flustered, she scolded, "Take that thing-" she gestured to the white collar, "off if your gonna say things like that!"

Peter grinned, "Can't help it, Assumpta, 'cause it is true. I love you." A grin of her own stretched across her face as she took in what he said.

Shaking her head, she breathed, "What am I gonna do with you." Peter opened his mouth to reply, but just then the bar fell into darkness. "Ugh, What now?!" sweared Assumpta while everyone else muttered in shock over the loss of lights.

Stomping over to the trap door, she threw it open and put one foot on the top stair when Ambrose piped up next to her "Ah, Assumpta, maybe I could call a professional for ya, hmm?" Pausing, Assumpta stepped away from the trap door.

Turning toward his voice, she argued, "And who is gonna pay for that? Because I most certainly can't afford-"

"Dad'll pay for it of course."

"Niamh!"

"Dad, don't! What if she get's hurt or worse! You saw what's down there."

Sighing, Brian grunted, "Fine. Let's get some bloody light in here. Ambrose, phone an electrician!"

"Right, Mr. Quigley." Answered Ambrose before he shuffled out the door and across the road to the Garda office.

"Right, then. No point in staying in here while it's all dark. Everyone outside!" shouted Padrig. There were murmurs through the crowd, as others started to head out the bar's door. Peter found his way to Asumpta's side as everyone wandered out and tilted his head near her ear, mumbling, "That was nice of Brian."

Assumpta glanced over at said man, catching his eye for a second, and nodded at him while she muttered back, "Mmmm, very kind of Niamh to do."

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose it might be a stretch saying it was of free will, but he still is dishing out the cash."

"Oh yeah, I'm forever in debt for his kindness."

Smirking, they shared a look while a car pulled up in front of Fitzgerald's. A small, hairy, older gentleman got out and called into the crowd, "Who here lost their lights?"

Assumpta's hand shot up from the back of the crowd. "That'd be me!"

Nodding, he closed the door to his driver's side and popped open the trunk. He dragged a rather large, old leather bag out, locked his car up and made his way over to the bartender. "George O'Neill," he announced as he held his hand out.

"Assumpta Fitzgerald, owner of this here pub." She greeted as she shook his hand.

The electrician smiled, then glanced over at Peter. "Father."

"Hello." Peter greeted awkwardly.

Nodding, he passed the two and entered into the bar. "So, where to?"

Asumpta paused behind him, then breathed, "Right, sorry, I'll lead the way."

…

George was down in there for only ten minutes before he came right back up, exclaiming, "It's a lucky thing I was called, Lass, otherwise that dinosaur down there would'a fried ya!" Peter and Niamh gasped next to Assumpta while she blinked in shock as the old electrician continued, "Don't want to see this pretty face in the morgue anytime soon." Peter rested his hand on her left shoulder as she sucked in her breath.

Asumpta blinked a few more times before she managed to stammer, "Um, d-do you k-know h-h-how l-long it'll take ta fix?"

George glanced between her and Peter before he tsked, "Hard to say. I'll have to redo the whole lot down there." He pulled his cap off and scratched his head while he sighed, "Maybe a week, give or take a few."

She nodded back numbly before she thanked him, then wandered back outside. Siobhan called over to the bartender, "You alright, Assumpta?"

Assumpta jerked her head up and forced a weak smile at the vet. "Hmm, yeah, I'm fine." Hugging herself, she muttered, "I guess we're gonna have to find a new place to crowd."

Peter walked over to them, smiling nervously. "You alright?"

Dropping her arms, she sighed. "I'll be fine." Glancing back at Siobhan, she chuckled, "Let's move this party to Father Clifford's, since he's the closest with the most room."

Siobhan grinned "Alright, then."

Peter's smile vanished all together, "Hey, wait, why-!"

"Everyone to Father Clifford's!" interrupted the vet's voice.

"But I didn't-"

"Relax, 'Father,' it's not a sin to host a celebration." teased Assumpta.

Peter sighed and gave the bartender a withering look. "And what exactly are we celebrating, now?"

Assumpta patted his shoulder as she walked away, announcing, "Good food, charity from Brian and my second shot at life." She grinned mischievously at him over her shoulder, making Peter shake his head and sigh again, but follow none the less.

Peter strolled up to his house and gaped at the amount of people crammed into his rather quaint living quarters. "Asumpta." He called as he snagged her arm.

"What, Peter?" she sighed as she turned towards the priest.

He let go of her arm and asked, "How are all these people gonna fit in my house!" He swallowed and looked to the side as he muttered, "It's not exactly roomy, if you know what I mean." Assumpta smirked at his worry.

"Peter, most of them are so drunk they can't remember what they originally came for." She patted his shoulder, "Trust me, they won't be able to when space gets a little cramped." She jerked her head to the over flowing house, "Now, c'mon, Peter. People will start to talk if the host doesn't show up."

Peter watched as Assumpta headed into the painfully stuffed house, weighing how much it would truly matter if he ditched this party. "You coming, Peter?" Sighing, he resigned to his fate.

"Coming," He muttered to no one in particular.

Once inside his home, he noted how everyone was clumped together and shouting over each other to be heard by their companions. Sighing for what felt like hundredth time that day, Peter squeezed his way to the kitchen where he noticed Assumpta had disappeared into. He was just about to enter into his kitchen when Father Macanally grabbed his arm. Turning, he looked down at the old priest. "Can I help you, Father Macanally?"

Said priest swayed in what Peter was to take as a nod and slurred, "Hmmm, yesh." He tugged a bit at Peter's arm. "I wash wandering, iff yoooo made oop your mond?"

Peter barely held back his laugh at how drunk the parish priest had gotten himself. "Oh yes, Father, I have."

"Hmm, good good." Swaying where he stood, the old priest blinked blurrly up at the taller priest. "And what havve yoo deshided?"

Peter chuckled this time, but graced the older man with an answer. "I have chosen her."

Macanally nodded sagely as he wobbled away. "Tat'sh what I tought yoo'd shay." Waving his hand in the air, he called, "Good night, Fauder Clifford, leave your tings wiff me tomorrow. Hmm, yesh yesh good."