Dedication
The night was cold, the damp air holding more of a chill than normal, even for a rainy late-October night. Pale, the light from an almost full moon skittered in and out of the clouds, turning the wind-driven vapor silver, shining mutely on the rain-wet pavement of the winding back road. Behind the wheel of the car, the man drove, never noticing the moon, his thoughts on things other than the night. Things much more dangerous than the fading storms or his own reckless driving.
Things that could make or destroy him, depending on the whims of fate.
His eyes, though focused on the darkness beyond the twin cones of light outside, saw, not what lay ahead in the physical world, but what might be. What could happen if he let it. If he took the chance.
If he didn't.
Still driving forward, into the unknown beyond the safety of the headlights, after what looked to be a weighty decision, the dark-haired young man picked up his cell phone. Dialing a number, he held his breath...
...and made a request.
- - o o O O o o - -
"Have you seen Nick?"
Derek Rayne did not look up as the dark researcher moved across his office thumbing through a stack of unfinished papers in her hands, wanting to send the latest batch of case files to London before he retired for the night. "He mentioned something about going to town. Parts for his car, I think." Now he did look up in time to trade a small smile with Alex. "Again."
Alex stopped before shaking her head sadly. "Nick's a great mechanic, Derek, but I swear! Sometimes I wonder why he doesn't just buy a car and save himself the trouble."
But the psychic's complaining was only good natured teasing and they both knew it. She, like everyone else, knew just what the mustang meant to their fellow team member. It was a classic; something Nick had built back up from the frame himself, and his only major hobby outside of the Legacy.
"Nick's picking up parts, again?" Rachel asked from the open doorway. "Now? In this weather?"
"You know Nick, " Alex teased, crossing her arms as she settled in for a break. "Neither rain, nor sleet..."
"Nor dark of night?" The blond supplied. "Or how about all three?"
"Exactly. Nothing keeps Nick from his baby, even if it takes a special trip across the bay through ungodly hours, storms and floods."
Watching the two women cluck after the man in question with mild amusement, the mundane world vanished and there was suddenly another scene clearly in his vision. Nick and their Housemate, Philip, on the edge of an open clearing, golden light filtering down, bathing them where they slept curled together, lying on a blanket in the sun.
"Maybe not." Derek's smile was enigmatic as he returned to the work on his desk. "But I think this time he'll find what he's looking for."
- - o o O O o o - -
The rain was falling outside, washing down the stain glass windows in gentle sheets, thunder rumbling softly in the distance; growing closer, lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the gloom.
In his office at St. Bart's Catholic church, Father Philip Callaghan reflected wryly on the fact that the weather itself had taken to complimenting his mood. Dark and unsettled, the elements warred violently outside the church. As they also warred inside him.
"Oh c'm on now - just because you're in a funk doesn't mean nature herself's sulkin' around with you." Philip chided himself, moving to the window during a particularly bright flash of lightning. Nevertheless, looking out over the grounds, the parish priest allowed himself a sigh as he stared out at the dark night.
The day had gone - badly. First the botched translation that had he and Derek backtracking over London's entire database, trying to narrow down the glitch in the language dictionaries and then...
Not knowing he did so, Philip sighed again, a sadness in this one that had nothing to do with work but much to do with frustration a more personal nature.
He and Nick had been snapping again; each quarrel more damaging than the last. If this went on much longer, the priest had no idea where their friendship would end up, or if they would even have a friendship at all.
They were both tired; Nick, working via computer and satellite, making sure security hadn't been compromised along with the databases in London, as well as keeping up with the House here in San Francisco. Philip, working the equivalent of two jobs; his research for the Legacy along with performing his duties here, at the church.
So with the strain and frustration getting to both men, they were snapping each other's heads off, saying and doing things they would never imagine under normal circumstances. Eventually one or the other would say something that could not be forgiven or taken back. In fact, in order to avoid saying anything more hurtful than he already had, this afternoon Philip had closed his mouth in mid argument, turned and walked away from the SEAL, walking out the door and leaving the island.
Standing in front of the window, staring, unseeing, out at the dark night beyond, Philip admitted that the very act was what had him upset now, his heart and mind heavy, his stomach in knots. Nick was a friend, and no matter how bad things could get, he should never have just walked away like that. Without a word.
"So I'll go t' the island tomorra and apologize."
Feeling better at the idea, Philip started sheepishly to hear the words spoken out loud. Bad enough to be brooding out the window, worse yet to have one of the other Fathers catch him talking to himself. More of this world than his fellow servants of God, many of them already thought him strange enough as it was. Only for him, had the bonds of faith lead him to where actual demons did indeed roam the earth.
Straddling two worlds with a foothold in each...
It was a hard position to be thrust into. An even harder one to maintain.
Decision made and returning resolutely to his desk, heart lighter than it had been all afternoon, Philip was determined to get some work done before bed, despite the fact that it was well after midnight. Dealing with the Legacy, the Father was used to keeping odd or late hours, or both.
The small radio on his desk forgotten in his sulking, he reached over a stack of papers and switched it on, turning the volume down low enough not to disturb anyone. The current station not to his liking, Philip scanned the dials, looking for something that would serve as background music to work by.
Not in the mood for Celtic, Irish or church hymnals, right now, just the thought of the traditional chants would be enough to put him to sleep. He kept turning, hoping to find something better, until his fingers reached a station he had often found Nick listening to. Giving it a try, Philip returned to his paperwork, the tag end of 'Higher Love' brightening up the room. He took that as a good omen and settled in.
- - o o O O o o - -
An hour later, pleased at the work he had managed to accomplish, Philip glanced at the clock and decided enough was enough work for one night. The treasury reports had been completed, stacked neatly and ready to place in the monsignor's box come morning, and his sermon planned and outlined for the following service; anything else could wait until his return tomorrow night.
Placing his request to be excused from the afternoon roster on top of the treasury reports, Philip stretched, glancing out the window and surprised to see the storm had passed, the full of the moon shining brightly out of the clear night sky. It was nights like these he enjoyed a nice walk in the gardens, no one around to wonder at his odd behavior, walking in the dark, all alone.
Nick, on the other hand, would be out taking advantage of the night for a wild bout of stopwatch-timed reckless driving on some deserted back road, headlights optional.
Philip grinned at the thought. Yet another example of the oddity of their friendship; if there were ever an example of true opposites, they were it.
And as if thoughts of the ex-SEAL had conjured him up, Philip turned from contemplating the open window to frown at the radio.
A series of commercials had just ended, the DJ ready to begin another block of music, with a request or dedication judging by the small talk and he could have sworn he had heard Nick's voice.
The priest shook his head at his own flights of fancy.
Surely it must be wishful thinking. Opposites or not, he had always enjoyed Nick's company, lately more so than was probably wise and thinking about the man must have conjured his voice. His hidden, growing attraction for his best friend had no doubt been one of the many catalysts for their latest series of arguments, at least on his part, and the fights, his decision to make amends and his thoughts of the ex-SEAL were probably to blame for the auditory mistake.
He had just about convinced himself of it when the DJ's next words shattered the self-delusion completely.
"Anyone special you want to get the word out to?"
There was a pause as the person on the line thought over their answer. "Yah, someone real special."
"This someone special have a name?"
Another pause and, for no reason he could name, Philip could feel himself holding his breath.
"They'll know who they are."
The DJ, overly cheerful, announced promptly, "Alright, Nick, we'll send it out per your request. For Nick and his someone special, here's George Michael..."
The first strains of Father Figure came over the radio and the priest could only stare in confusion. Touched at the thought that the song was possibly for him, after all he was most likely the only 'Father' Nick was likely to know well enough for a gesture such as this one, he was at a loss.
He knew the song, of course but something about Nick's dedication prompted him to listen to the words more closely than he ever had before.
that's all I wanted
something special, something sacred -
in your eyes
for just one moment
to be bold and naked
at your side
sometimes I think that you'll never
understand me
maybe this time it's forever
say it can be
Inside his church office, Philip frowned.
that's all you wanted
something special, someone sacred -
in your life
just for one moment
to be warm and naked
at my side
sometimes I think that you'll never
understand me
but something tells me together
we'd be happy
Unbidden, Philip closed his eyes against the corresponding emotional longing that flowed with the images behind his mind. Sometimes he thought he would give anything for just that. For just a chance - just one moment to be happy.
But there wasn't one.
I will be your father figure
put your tiny hand in mine
I will be your preacher
teach you
anything you have in mind...
Teach me. In the privacy of his office, Philip wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the chill. Just for a moment, he let himself dream. Anything...
if you are the desert
I'll be the sea
if you ever hunger
hunger for me
whatever you ask for
that's what I'll be
Just for a chance that the hunger was for him. Philip shivered as Nick's hard smirk appeared before his lids.
Whatever you ask for...
Whatever he could be.
Just my friend, Nick. Just my love...
But it could never be real.
I will be your father figure
put your tiny hand in mine
I will be your preacher
teach you
anything you have in mind...
Could it?
Father - preacher - could Nick really be saying what Philip hoped he was?
He was just starting to figure it out, wondering if he was crazy, thinking just maybe he was right after all and Nick was telling him what he thought he was. Should he take the chance, go to him? Where would he be anyway?
His cell phone. Nick had been calling the station on his cell phone.
Moving quickly to his desk, Philip picked up the receiver and dialed the numbers with fingers that shook. His entire body was trembling, and he was certain he was pale as a sheet, but he had to know.
He had to know.
- - o o O O o o - -
Nick, meanwhile, had been watching Philip silently from his office doorway, lounging against the frame, arms crossing in an aggressively casual pose, unaware of the internal struggle. Was it the right move? Or had he just tossed aside a friendship they had worked so hard to rebuild?
His heart hammering in his chest, he watched as Philip reached for the phone and dialed his number.
- - o o O O o o - -
The last digit dialed, Philip raised the receiver to his ear and waited for the call to be connected.
And jumped a foot as a shrill ringing sounded right inside his own doorway.
"Jesus!" came the undignified shriek. "Nick?"
A brief smile flitted across the otherwise expressionless face. "Hey, Phil."
"What are you doin' here?"
"Why were you calling me?"
"I - well, b'cause..." Flustered, Philip finally put the phone down and shook his head. "I was just about t' go fer a walk." Now, with his friend actually standing in his doorway, the priest found he couldn't do it. He was too afraid of rejection to risk the pain. "Care t' join me?"
Walking was safe. Outside was safe. Anywhere out of the suddenly all too confining room, away from his own thoughts was safe.
Ignoring the change in subject and the fact that it didn't make any sense, Nick only nodded and moved aside, letting him lead the way.
Outside on the well tended paths, out of sight and sound of main building, the silence grew; while not the same, it was every bit as oppressive as it had been earlier that afternoon.
Suddenly Philip couldn't stand it any longer. "I - I heard your dedication."
"Yah." Nick nodded. "I know."
"Was it...who was 't for?"
For the longest time it looked as if he was not going to answer. And then, "A friend."
Unaware that the ex-SEAL was studying him just as carefully as he was trying not to study Nick, Philip felt his heart drop at the ambiguous answer. "Oh."
In the chill night air, the silence grew again, Nick trailing beside Philip as they walked slowly through the darkened pathways.
The large blooming garden was well tended and kept neat behind church walls; it's cobbled walkways swept free of debris and any small branches that may break from the tree limbs above them by a few diligent priests during the day. Tonight, the full moon cast light enough to see clearly any that may have fallen since, rendering the danger of twisting an ankle or falling minimal. Thick rose bushes and other flowering greenery lined the path on both sides, surrounding them and scenting the damp night air more heavily than usual.
When Nick spoke, though loud in the silence, his actual volume was low, the quiet words hanging in the night air.
"I can see why you like it here." Glancing sideways, he saw Nick's face buried in a rose, his eyes closed. "It's so peaceful. Not like the House."
Taking the offering, Philip turned from the hypnotic sight, studying a flower on his side, his fingers gently tracing the delicate petals; his stubborn mind wishing they were touching something, someone, else. "Did you ever get everythin' worked out?"
Nick turned and some of the old spark was back as his lips flashed up in a grin. "Yah, actually, we did. Finally."
"So what demon was 't this time?"
"No demon, unless you consider the existence of the demon speller typo. Seems someone in London can't type."
As the dark head shook, Philip found himself echoing the gesture. "Yer kiddin'?"
"Nope. Oh, London could use a new upgrade and a few other precautionary measures, just so it doesn't happen again, but that's it. Not everything has to do with demons and other dark nasties out to get us, I guess."
The priest snorted in mock sympathy. "Imagine that."
"Very funny." Then, seriously, "Derek was wondering what happened to you. Why you just took off."
Unable to meet his eyes, Philip asked, "I can imagine. So, what did you tell him?"
"That you had some errands to run and couldn't stay. He was deep in paperwork when I left."
"Nick, I'm sorry. I couldn' stay. Not and not say somethin' I might regret. More than I had already."
"Forget it." Nick's face was clear, the moonlight showing Philip that he meant what he said. "I was outta line. Way out. You didn't say anything more than I did, or had coming. Much."
The last was a tease and the Irishman found himself smiling ruefully. "So...we're good then?"
"Yah. We're good." Somewhere in the midst of their apologies the two had stopped walking to face each other. Now they started again, Nick following beside the priest as he lead them in a slow, unhurried path that would circle them around to the door they emerged from. "So," The voice piped up before the silence could stretch again, this time more cheerful and Philip had to laugh. "How was your day?"
"Horrible." Grateful for the respite and being able to leave the past behind them, Philip outlined the rest of his day back from the island.
The couple that had come to him for counseling before their wedding had at least as many problems ahead of them as many couples he had seen, and more than most. Though he had no doubt they cared for each other, and deeply, it was clear that, although they said the words, and often, neither truly loved the other. Not in the way that they would need to keep a working marriage alive and healthy.
So Philip talked and Nick listened.
"Anyone c'n say th' words, but...the key is, do they mean them?" It was so good to have Nick's ear to emote into, his shoulder to lean on that Philip all but forgot he was there. His sense of frustration and sadness so strong, the Irishman continued, talking to himself. "If anyone c'n say I love you at any time, wouldn't the words become automatic? Routine. That they no longer mean anythin' at all."
"You got me there, Phil." Unable to say anymore, Nick shrugged, though the gesture held more than indifference; it also managed to express sympathy as well as understanding. "The trick is to mean it. Every time. Not say it unless you do."
"Yer right. That's pretty much th' answer I came up with, m'self."
Nick gaped. "Is that what you told them?"
"Pretty much, yeah." Philip was nodding sheepishly, suddenly overcome by a big yawn. "Good Lord. What time is 't anyway?"
Still shaking his head, Nick glanced at his watch, both men surprised by the time. "About three in the morning, a little after." The SEAL favored him with a small smile. "Time flies, doesn't it?"
"It does." At least with good friends, and if there could be nothing more between them than what they shared tonight, well Philip would just make due. It was enough that the bitter anger of the last few days was over and their friendship had, again, survived intact. "I'm just glad I managed to get all 'f my paperwork done. All I have left is..." He groaned and Nick's grin held an evil cast.
"Let me guess..."
Dryly, the priest nodded. "Mornin' sermon. But I was comin' out t' the House later. To apologize." He admitted ruefully.
"Come anyway," Nick told him, slapping his back before opening the heavy wooden door, leaving the garden. "Better than stayin' here. We'll let you sleep."
- - o o O O o o - -