Never Claimed to Be a Hero
Summary: Father MacAvoy was never one to be a hero, but to a young woman he meets in a bar, he is just that.
Trigger warning: Date rape implications.
Writer's note: This features Belle's cursed-personality, Lacey. Since we haven't really met Lacey yet, I sort of thought she'd be Belle with some sauciness. I'm not sure if this is a separate ship or not, so I'm just putting it under Macelle tag till further notice!
Credit for Father MacAvoy's first name always goes to bad faery!
Father MacAvoy stumbled to the bar, eyes focused on the grimy floor, hand curled in anticipation for a drink to fill it. The barkeep knew exactly what he would order and had it ready as soon as he plopped his sorry arse on the stool. His hazy mind paid no attention to anyone around him as he downed the whiskey in one long gulp, staring into the empty tumbler before pushing it away with fingertips for another round.
"Hello there" a sensual, lithe voice to the right of him caught his ear, and MacAvoy snapped his head to the source. He gaped fixedly at the sight of the goddess standing next to him. Her dark hair was swept up in a stylish ponytail, a leather mini-skirt barely covered her thighs, and her smile held a secret. "Is this seat taken?"
MacAvoy gazed at her, mouth gaped open like a fish, before he shook his head. "No, miss. It's yours."
The woman gave a little bounce of excitement, gracefully sitting down. "What are you having?"
"Whiskey" he murmured, and was taken aback when she ordered one for herself.
She turned her secret smile back upon him. "Thought I'd try out a new bar. Meet new people."
MacAvoy wondered why this young woman was talking to him. If she frequented bars, couldn't she see he was a drunk and not even worth a second glance? He hadn't even offered to buy her a drink. "It's good to meet new people" he replied, lamely.
"I'm Lacey French" she introduced, offering a hand.
"Father Joseph MacAvoy" he accepted her hand, trying desperately to keep it from shaking in her grasp.
"A priest?" Lacey giggled, twisting her tumbler with barely a touch of delicate fingertips. "Where's the rabbi and minister?"
It took a moment to understand what she was asking, but it clicked and MacAvoy shrugged a shoulder, replying nonchalantly, "I forgot to pick them up."
Lacey's chortle rang delightfully in his ears, and he couldn't help the small smile playing on his lips as he joined her. He flinched when she touched his shoulder, keeping her hand there to give him a squeeze.
MacAvoy froze. She was touching him. He took a ragged breath, downing another round of whiskey. His knowledge was vague, but he was pretty certain this beautiful woman was flirting with him and he felt the urge to bolt from the building.
As much as he desired to talk to Lacey, he was relieved when a clean-cut young man appeared by her side asking if he could buy her a drink. Lacey smiled at the potential suitor, but MacAvoy noticed her voice didn't hold the same lithe with this man. He resumed his staring contest with the bottom of his tumbler, shamefully eavesdropping on Lacey and the potential suitor's conversation.
As the conversation went on, MacAvoy's attention drew back to his whiskey. "Father MacAvoy? Joseph?" He didn't know how many times Lacey had called him, but when he heard her say his given name, he jerked out of his miserable thoughts.
"Yes, miss?" he replied hurried, probably looking a bit dazed.
Lacey smiled smoothly, squeezing his shoulder and Joseph whimpered at her touch. "Will you hold my seat? I'm going to the little girl's room." She gestured to the bathroom and it was then that Joseph noticed the potential suitor had moved on.
He nodded a little too enthusiastically. With that secret smile of hers, Lacey walked away. She'd left a tumbler of whiskey on the bar half drank. The instant she disappeared into the bathroom, another bar occupant leaned on the counter ordering a drink. Joseph recognized that voice. The man trying to pick Lacey up was back, but he didn't sit where he had before, just hovered there close to her stool.
From the corner of his eye, Joseph caught the man leaning over, his hand above Lacey's tumbler. Quick as lightning, the man poured something in the whiskey and nonchalantly went back to his business. Joseph snapped his eyes to the barkeep, but his back was turned.
The potential suitor-turned-bastard strolled away just as Lacey's heels clicked out the bathroom door. She slid onto the barstool, facing Joseph with freshly powdered cheeks. "Miss me?"
Joseph stared at her dazedly, his alcohol-muddled mind trying desperately to think of what to do before Lacey took a drink of her unknown fate. The suitor-turned-bastard would swoop in to her rescue as she swayed to keep hold on her consciousness. He'd lead her out the door, violate her in a dark corner, leave her on the side of the road confused and ashamed.
Joseph did the only thing that came to mind to save this girl. He lunged for her tumbler, downing the contents in one gulp. Lacey looked horrified, and he wouldn't blame her for slapping him hard across the face and storming out the pub. The drug must have been pretty potent – or maybe the several tumblers of whiskey already in his system – because the corners of Joseph's vision already started to blacken.
"Joseph?" he heard Lacey call from somewhere in the distance. Her concerned face was the last thing he saw before he lost all consciousness.
He'd drunk himself to death again. Or at least Joseph wished he had as the throbbing between his eyes pounded like a sledgehammer beating his forehead. He whimpered - a painful sound – as he rolled onto his side to better cover his head with the pillow. He knew it wouldn't help, but all he wished was to vanish from his miserable existence and hiding himself beneath the bed-things would have to do.
"Good morning, sleepyhead" a voice, though lovely and smooth, sounded like needles in his ears. Joseph's eyes snapped open and he was thankful the curtains were drawn, making the room dark. At the sight of the beautiful woman lying beside him, he yelped in horror and bolted away as if she were a hellish dragon ready to devour him.
"Joseph!" he barely heard her cry as he slammed onto the floor. At least the pain in his bony hip was distracting him from the throbbing of his head.
A lamp switched on, assaulting him to an even greater degree, as deep blue eyes appeared in his hazy line of sight. He glanced at her before shutting his eyes tight to block out the radiating beams of lamplight, and snippets of memories began to float back into his mind.
The bar. Lacey. Saving her.
"Lacey?" Joseph murmured breathlessly.
"Oh good! It didn't wipe your memory!" She seemed far too excited about that fact. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder, hoisting him to sit on the bed.
Joseph chanced another glance at her. Only a black silk chemise that stopped at her upper thigh covered her and he took a shallow breath as he looked down at himself to find he only wore his underthings as well. "Oh no." He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "No, no no no." What had he done?
A quiet moment past before Lacey giggled, her hand rubbing lite circles through his thin white t-shirt. "Don't worry, love" A fingertip tapped his chin, turning his gaze to meet hers. "Nothing happened."
The relief that washed over Joseph felt nearly divine.
"Besides, you were out cold by the time I got you here."
In the fog of his mind, the word "here" registered and Joseph peered around slowly, minding his aching head. "Where are we?"
Lacey casually played with the tips of his hair at the base of his neck. "My place."
"I need to go." Joseph stood, a little too quickly, and cried out. Lacey grabbed his arm, pulling him back down on the bed.
"You're not going anywhere" she announced, pushing him back gently to lie on the pillow again. He watched her with wide, frightened eyes. "Let me take care of you. It's the least I can do after what you did for me."
She'd figured it out. He hadn't thought ahead of what would happen after he drank the tainted whiskey. The barkeep would have thrown him onto the gutter - most likely - and let him sleep it off. Or get run over by a parking car before he could awake.
"My hero" Lacey crooned and his breathing grew rapid at the teasing hand placed upon his chest.
"I'm not a hero" he sputtered out. "I couldn't let that man hurt you."
"It is a very noble thing you did for me, but-" the smile that held a secret crossed her lips, "You could have just told me what that man had done."
Joseph gaped at her as the comment filtered into his brain. He could have just told her instead of making a downright fool of himself! "I didn't think of that," he replied sheepishly, cheeks burning. "I panicked and drinking it was the only solution that came to mind."
Lacey shrugged. "Maybe something more came out of it than you saving me from that bastard. You would have never come home with me, for one."
"Lacey" he tried to sit up, but a firm hand pushed him back down. "I'm a priest. Nothing can happen between us." He averted his eyes from the bright, curiosity of hers, and he whispered, "You wouldn't want me anyway."
Lacey's gaze cut right through him for a long moment making Joseph feel uncomfortably exposed. "You stay put. I'll go put on a pot of coffee and bring some aspirin."
"A whole bottle of aspirin will do the trick" Joseph mumbled, laying an arm over his eyes.
As soon as he did, Lacey raised his arm, those blue eyes barely a few inches from his. "I'll be right back, precious." She leaned down and for a terrifying moment Joseph thought she would kiss his lips, but instead she pressed a kiss to his forehead. Replacing his arm back over his eyes, he heard her switch off the lamp and her footfalls leave the room.
He'd hoped to drift into oblivion, but Joseph was never that lucky and before he knew it, the bed was sinking beside him. "Joseph" Lacey called in a sing-sang voice. He wondered how seriously she was taking his pain.
Joseph grudgingly pushed up on his elbows to sit up, taking the aspirin and glass of water from her. Lacey insisted he stay put, but Joseph already felt pathetic lying in what was virtually a stranger's bed. He drug his socked feet to the loveseat in Lacey's living room, and a minute later she was pressing a mug of black coffee in his hand. She sat beside him, rubbing his back in that soothing way that Joseph didn't want to admit made him feel a tiny bit better.
"So" Lacey chimed, a mug of coffee in her free hand, "a priest in a bar? I take it you weren't trying to bring lost souls to God."
Joseph bowed his head, eyes closed, elbows resting heavily on his knees. He looked as he felt: downcast, forlorn, crestfallen. He was a downright sorry excuse for a leader of the church. "How can I bring lost souls to God when I'm lost myself."
Fingers soothed his fallen hair back and warm breath caressed his cheek. Joseph froze, wondering why this woman so openly touched him instead of shrinking back in disgust. Her lips touched his cheek, and it felt like hours before she pulled away.
Joseph felt a dam burst inside him. Sobs wrecked through him and he barely realized that Lacey had taken the mug from him and pulled him to her chest, raking fingers through his unkempt hair. He didn't know how long they stayed that way, but he sobbed until he could go on no more.
"Stay with me" she breathed against his forehead.
Joseph finally pulled away, red-rimmed eyes staring at her. "I can't. I'm a priest and we're strangers and-"
Lacey halted his protest with a finger upon his lips. "If we get to know each other then we won't be strangers." She removed the delicate vice from his lips with the shrug of a shoulder. "I'm not asking you for anything expect to stay with me, Joseph. Do your priest thing during the day, but come back to me at night. Maybe we'll be less prone to going out to bars and getting ourselves in trouble."
He'd lived alone from the time he was 16. Loneliness was the reason he sat on barstools and drank himself into nothingness. The offer was so enticing, so tempting. There had to be a reason for meeting this beautiful woman who didn't want to leave him in the gutter and that fact was the only reason Joseph agreed.
"Nothing more than companionship?" he asked, weakly. "Nothing physical?"
Lacey nibbled her lip just a little, nodding. "Whatever you want it to be, precious."
"I'll stay." With that, Lacey wrapped around his neck, chestnut locks tickling his cheek as she tucked her head underneath his chin. Joseph warily slid an arm around her slim waist - the silk of her chemise delightful on his fingertips, and prayed he did not just drop into a bigger hole than what he was already in.