Nick began showing up once a week to the high school practice after that. His office was virtually empty most of the time anyways and he found himself drawn to town's two most repressed characters, Sara and Greg. He wanted to rock the world of this little town, even if that meant drawing Madeleine's ire.

Nick figured that ire was something he could handle. It would be a challenge though. Greg was younger than Sara, but it seemed as though their vibrancy was fading away equally. Thinking back to what Greg had said about little Jake had made sense, the final puzzle piece to what had happened in that town not so long ago. Nick was determined that, if nothing else, Greg, Sara, and little Jake would not go quietly into that waiting grave.

Greg tapped on the side of the passenger door while the trucked idled in the lot. His eyes sparkled with amusement. "You just don't give up, do you?"

Nick grinned. "Call me hard-headed. Seems like we both have a lot of experience in that area."

Greg sighed, turning the handle and popping the door open so he could jump in. Once inside, he rolled the window up to a fourth so that they could talk. This was the second time that Greg had accepted Nick's invitation and it was almost like having the young man come in the church office. They shot the breeze, gained a quick level of comfort with each other and discussed a lot of things that unburdened the young man quite a bit. Nick already knew that Greg was too tight-wound, but he was surprised by the thorough way that he broke down his world and hid what he thought would bring shame to himself.

Greg yearned to be free and Nick couldn't blame him. He was beginning to feel a creeping lethargy that couldn't quite be explained. In his prayers, in his efforts to garden, it was just something that seemed to come over him, as though a fat spell were being plopped on his otherwise insignificant little noggin.

"Mind if we stop by Ranch de la Stokes? Need to pick up some notes before I head back into town."

Greg shrugged noncommittally, unsuspectingly. They usually stopped for sundaes at Sara's diner afterwards, where little Jake would get doted on and Sara would crack the occasional smile when no one else was there. Pulling into the driveway, Nick smiled secretly to himself, making sure not to jerk any single muscle too early.

In a flash, they were doing donuts across his dusty lawn. His lethargy had at least given him this one reward. Greg's eyes went wide and his body tensed as his hand shot up to the top of the cab, trying to find something to hold onto. His leg furiously pushed the air break and he yelled the pastor's name over the howls of fun echoing from the driver side.

"NNNNNIIIIICCCCCCKKKKK!"

Eventually, the old truck rocked to a stop.

"Are you crazy? You could have....we could have...what if someone had....what were you thinking? Aren't you supposed to be the adult here?"

Nick paused, cocking his head as he examined Greg Sanders. "Did you have fun?"

"What kind of question is that?"

Nick shrugged. "An honest one."

"Well, my heart is racing and I think I've successfully conquered the age old question of if I will puke when dying in a car crash....so......"

"That's not an answer, Greggo."

Greg gulped. "Doesn't need to be."

Nick took his hands off the wheel. "Okay! Then we'll just do it again until you have some fun."

"No!" Greg lunged for the wheel as though it had any control over the gas pedal. "I'm having fun! I'm having fun!"

Nick chuckled when they settled back on the road and Greg muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like crazy Episcopalian pastors.

A tug of war between Greg's nurtured straight jacket environment and natural exuberance of youth continued for the rest of the summer. In time, Nick watched him change like an oiled, familiar catchers glove that was learning to mold itself to fit its true nature. There was a difference in his interactions with others at school, Nick was informed. It had been a positive change, although the atmosphere in his own home had remained as stale as ever. Nick, for his part, was not as adverse to risking his own well being for the guy he was becoming very fond of. When the first Sunday came and there was no congregation left, that bothered him very little.

What did bother him was Sara's reaction to all this. There came one week when the diner was shut down and all that he received when he banged on her door at home later in the week when she did not show up for work at all was a shaking of her head that showed the true fear of ostracism that she had. It was disheartening in some ways, but made sense in many others. Sighing, Nick had to make a decision as he looked out amongst the stars. He would save only the one which wanted it.

The sundae social moved to the pews of the church, which made Greg remark once that he had remembered the place being much bigger. Fall had come around them finally and the ice cream had been substituted for heaps of pie from a nearby bakery that was not as fine as Sara's but would have to do.

Outside, Max brought the truck to a stop in front of the diner. He couldn't see Sara and assumed that she had finally gone home. The place was dark, meaning that her futile efforts waiting for that new preacher would be just that. Like with everything else the bitch has done, he snarled to his own mind.

It wasn't yet the end of twilight and yet the town seemed strangely silent and dead. A nasty, cold wind was approaching. Max looked up as he finally stepped quietly away from his car. The heavens were rumbling, which he saw as a good omen. The deep, cold wind slashing across his cheek was also a good omen to him. Hell, hail wouldn't have been discounted in the good omens department.

Max crept across the street as a shadow. His dad had been right about the new preacher, he was headstrong and unable to cope with the soul-sucking eventuality which was the little town. He was too close to finding out about the father of Sara's child and Max could never have that. His mother had worked far too diligently covering the trail. Max was convinced that not even the egghead knew all the details.

Max's spine stiffened at the thought of his brother. He played it off by pulling his collar high and tight across his neck, but he knew. Max thought his brother was soft and weak, one of those blasted intellectuals who ruined everything honest they touched. Max would find a way, he would make a deal with the devil if he had to. Max didn't care about souls since they gave no instruction for the growth of grain. All they did was bog you down in the little religious details which meant so little to him.

Shadows and wind flickered but Max kept moving. He knew that he could find something incriminating in the silent pastor's past. They always had something. Using a jagged piece of pipe that he had lifted from the old man's workshop, Max jimmied the low window to the preacher's office open. Feeling the possession of power and anger, he leapt into the office. The door was closed and the office empty.

He heard the voices as he was gently palming the lining of one of the shelves, trying desperately to find a hidden gem in the sparse place.

Greg sighed. Max heard his brother shift in the pew. He opened the door a crack to listen into the conversation.

"I should get home. Its late."

Nick shrugged in return, legs casually crossed over each other at the ankles while his arms were stretched out over the back of the pew. "You can stay. Its not like its a long commute."

Greg's cheeks reddened a little. "But, I mean, I'm just a kid. You've got Sara to talk to and my parents, an entire small congregation...."

Nick interrupted while Greg tried reaching for the next words. "That's not what life is about. Sure, I suppose I can find more things in common with them, but how many of them aren't going to be afraid to think for themselves?"

A flashing flush of jealousy ran through Max's body as his knee quivered, crouched down by the slightly opened office door. Even if the preacher was right, he had no right trying to bring Greg above his station in the town. Nobody left Gracin Falls and ever came back. Max growled to himself at Nick's impertinence.

Greg looked down at his lap. "That may be, but I'm still trapped here."

"Unless I happen to pull a few strings."

Greg looked back up at Nick, narrowing his gaze. "But I thought you were going to call in a few favors, get Father Grissom to reassign you?"

Nick leans in closer to Greg's body, as if they're sharing a deep secret. "I could've done that, but my time is over Greg. You've got more potential than you know, you can't be afraid of it."

"But all your sermons? All those ideas? They're wasted here."

Nick shook his head. "My time's come and gone, Greggo. But they can live right here, in you..."

Greg looked down at the warm hand centered on his chest, over his thumping heart. He looked back up at Nick, breath falling away for a moment. In the deepening twilight of the church, lit only by a soft set of candles near the stained glass, Greg could see the lines of age that played across Nick's face. Seeing him so young and yet so old disturbed Greg.

"What's wrong?"

Greg shook his head. "Do you remember weeks ago when you took me out in that beat up old truck of yours and taught me to let out a bit of my emotion doing donuts? You looked so thrilled for just a split second and now...I can't bear this...seeing you..."

"Greggo...you can't..."

In a flash, that moment became one of those monumental decision moments. Having Nick feel so alone in the world wasn't okay by Greg's standards and he felt like he couldn't be ashamed of his support any longer. Greg had imagined what it was like to kiss someone. The gum had been different, the intensity of the drool had been more moist, the shock and surprise overtaken by true feeling had been authentic though.

Greg pulled away quicker than he thought he would. Scooting back from being so close to Nick in case he had just warranted a beating, Greg held his breath before his spoke. "Sorry."

Max fell, the sharp quiver in his knee causing him to lean against the door and shut it solid. His mind was spinning. How many of the precious commandments was this preacher going to break? Seducing whores and intellectuals was one thing, but this was downright blasphemy playing out in the church! He had to get away, had to tell someone. Max thought of his father first and he squirmed his way around the room without bothering to put anything back in its rightful place.

Nick didn't speak until Greg returned his gaze. "Sorry for what? I couldn't be less grateful for more comfort than what I have right now."

"But I just...."

Nick cut him off with a wave of his hand. "...had a natural reaction to what you were feeling. I'm one lucky guy warranting that and well, ten years ago I might have taken you up on what you're feeling."

"What's different now?"

Nick crinkled his nose, not sure of a good reason. "Different time, different place. Greg, you're a special young man, I grant you that."

Greg returned to his former space next to Nick. He placed one hand over the extended arm of his mentor and first kiss, burrowing into the smell of aftershave and hope. Greg and Nick both wanted to talk into the deep of the night, but every time they tried there was simply another kiss waiting in the wind.

Time was relative until about two in the morning when Nick finally felt a sharp draft from beneath the door of his office. Leaving a snoozing Greg to go and shut his window, Nick sauntered over to the door and opened it slowly so as not to wake the younger man. What he saw made him stifle a gasp. Bibles flung all over the place, papers strewn beneath the wet mop head in the broom closet. Greg came padding behind.

"What's the matter?"

Nick blinked, bracing his stomach for the words. "Someone's been here."

Greg's face turned pale. "Oh shit."