I'm sorry nothing got updated yesterday but I'm a florist and it was Mother's Day which meant I've not had time to eat let alone think about updating anything. Still, it's over now, I've had a sandwich and the fic has been updated so all is right with the world. :-)
Enjoy!

XXXX

The school seemed so quiet without the recently graduated students filling the Academy of Unseen Arts, and Faustus had found himself with so much free time as he always did a the end of the year. That didn't mean he sat idle, no, as High Priest he was always busy. The dark-haired man did miss seeing Thorn as she wandered the halls though. Still, he saw her when she joined him to discuss the Church; enjoyed taking her on the desk those nights. And, if the mass of scratches on his back were anything to go by she enjoyed it too. Thank Lucifer it had been one of those nights.

Nothing more had been said of their Yule celebrations save for when he was to arrive and that Judas' nanny was not necessary. Faustus had been pleased about that, he'd not intended to bring the woman anyway. Kylian Gethic had taken his leave until that night as well and he'd been pleased about that too. Yes, the man was Thorn's uncle but Faustus wanted her attention all to himself. Selfish but he didn't care.

The fires warmed him as he sat there at his desk putting himself back together after Thorn had delighted in being the one who dishevelled him. Damn, she was beautiful! She'd left not long ago but still he could feel her walls clamped around his member; a sensation he savored.

Faustus sat at his desk with a glass of amber liquid to indulge in after he'd indulged in Thorn's supple flesh. He'd return to his home soon bit he wanted a few moments of peace and quiet. That wouldn't happen.

"You're a naughty, naughty boy, Faustus." Madam Satan said as she came into view. "I told you before that you're much too old for that girl. What next, Sabrina? No, her aunt is more your speed."

She perched on his desk and looked at him with a dangerous smile.

"Want something, Demoness?" He asked with no real emotion at all and took a sip of his drink.

Madam Satan shrugged. "Just popped in for a little chat. Sabrina is taking nicely to having her name in the Book of the Beast."

"All witches do." Faustus responded simply.

"Care to share?" The woman gestured to Faustus' glass and he pulled it a little closer to his chest.

"I've no desire to share saliva with you, but I'm sure you'll help yourself."

The dark-haired woman just smirked at him and got herself a drink from his decanter over in the corner of the room. She sipped it slowly as she sat down in a chair to face the High Priest.

The only reason she was there was to irritate him, Father Blackwood knew that but it had become a silly routine of theirs. Madam Satan would show up randomly and do her best to get a rise out of him, and Faustus would ignore her until she got bored and left him be. Were she not Madam Satan he'd have tossed her out on her ass and warded the whole building against her a long time ago. He'd not anger the Dark Lord though, not over the likes of her.

"I'll give you this, Faustus," The demoness said after another sip "you have good whiskey."

"But of course." He responded dryly.

"Tell me, Faustus, why that one? Do you really like her or is it because she's from a family with power and you're a pilot fish?"

"Are you suggesting Thorn is a shark?" He asked to dodge her question.

Madam Satan smirked. "Oh, that girl can be vicious if she wants to be. All women can. I recommend you don't anger her."

"I'm fully aware of Thorn's power."

"Hmm, I think you're fully aware of most of her." That actually got a little smirk out of him. "Anyway, back to the reason I'm here-"

"Oh, there's a reason."

Madam Satan ignored his interruption and just carried on. "Sabrina's mortal friends at Baxter High have been a little tense around her since she signed her name and left her boyfriend, Harvey."

Faustus sighed. "And why do I care about the love life of a teenage girl?"

Madam Satan snorted a little unladylike. "Well, you do have sex with one." Father Blackwood didn't laugh but he had to admit he'd walked right into that one. "Has Sabrina made any real friends here at the Academy? She needs the support right now, the more comfortable she is the easier it will be to control her."

Blackwood agreed. "Sabrina has befriended Prudence, Agatha, Dorcas and Nick Scratch. They're quite the little group. Also, I'd not worry about her single status too much since Scratch has his eye on her."

The demoness raised an eyebrow. "A warlock? Good. The further away from the mortal world she gets, the better for us all."

Faustus drained what was left of his drink and stood. "Are we finished here? I'm a busy man and I do have a son to tend to."

Madam Satan sighed. "Fine, I can take a hint."

She finished her drink, set the glass down on the large desk and vanished to where ever she went when she wasn't bothering the High Priest. Suddenly that peace and quiet he'd wanted returned and Faustus let out a sigh of relief.

~X~

When Faustus returned to his home he was greeted by his son's Nanny, Iris Sammel, an – almost stereotypical – older woman with grey hair held in a bun and a pale pink dress; all she missed was a pair of spectacles on a chain.

"Evening, Father." She greeted with a pleasant smile.

"Iris." Was all the acknowledgement Blackwood gave until he'd hung his overcoat up and then planted his cane between his feet. "How is Judas?" Faustus enquired in that accented voice of his.

Iris smiled. Her eyes – almost the same shade of dark blue as the walls.

"He is quite well, Father Blackwood. He ate not long ago and I set him down for the night. I think he missed you though." She cleared her throat. "With how late the hour is I took the liberty of preparing tea for you and a light supper, it's all in your study."

Cooking wasn't in the woman's job description but she often decided to play housekeeper and he couldn't ever decide if he liked that or not.

Faustus nodded. "Thank you, Iris."

"You're quite welcome, Father."

"I think that will be all for this evening, Iris. You may go home."

The older woman flashed him an almost motherly smile. "Of course, Father. Goodnight."

"Night."

He didn't watch the woman get her coat but rather walked off to his study for some much needed tea. Sure enough as soon as he entered the room Faustus saw the cup of steaming tea and a plate of select cold cuts at his desk waiting. Many people probably assumed that as High Priest to the Church of Night he had an army of servants at his disposal, cooking, cleaning and what not but he didn't. Faustus didn't like having a plethora of people in his home. As soon as he'd moved into the large house he'd spelled the place to basically clean itself as most witches did and he actually rather liked cooking. Of course Faustus wouldn't ever admit that... to anyone. One didn't need an army of servants if one was tidy.

Faustus all but fell down into his desk chair after he'd rested his cane against the desk, and started to sip at his tea. He had to admit Missus Sammel knew how to make a damn good cup of tea. Blackwood really needed some sleep but food came first, the High Priest happily helped himself to the plate of cold cuts to sate his rumbling stomach. The dark-haired warlock leant back in his chair and ate in silence for what seemed like the longest time, peaceful and calm.

He should have expected Madam Satan to show up at his school office, she adored irritating him. Faustus had been happy and delighting in the post-orgasmic bliss of Thorn, of course the demoness had shown up to ruin it. Still, he'd made it home and his house was the one place he'd expressly banned her from, she could have tried to break through the warding but it would prove futile.

The High Priest had just finished his supper when he heard Judas cry and scream, the sound bounced around the house surprisingly well; annoyingly. At first he thought to let the child cry himself out but Judas very rarely cried and Faustus actually found himself halfway up the stairs before he'd even registered his concern. Seemed his paternal instinct had kicked in.

Faustus strutted into Judas' room. Dark wainscoted walls and large Gothic windows mixed together with hints of green to make Judas' room dark and intimidating while keeping an air of childishness to it. Dead in the centre of the room with an Irish green canopy over it stood Judas' crib, a stunning work of art, antique walnut with detailed swirls and peaks carved into the wood. There lay Judas, face red as tears streamed down his face and Faustus lifted the small boy into his arms gently.

"Hush, Judas. Blackwood's do not cry." He told the child firmly, yet the crying didn't cease.

Seconds later memories of Thorn holding his son filled his mind. Her touch had been so careful and loving, so practised. It was rare for Judas to cry – his boy was strong – but when he did it took quite some time to calm him, Thorn though, she'd comforted Judas in a matter of minutes. Slowly he shifted Judas in his arms until he held him just as Thorn had and pulled his son in closer to his chest, a moment or so later the child's screams died down. Faustus just stood there a time with Judas rested in his arms, he rocked him back and forth until slumber once again took the boy and Faustus set him back down in the crib.

"Sleep now, Judas." He rose back to his full height. "Seems you have developed quite the affinity for Thorn. Like father like son as it were."

For quite some time Faustus stood there watching Blackwood Jr as he slept, so small. His only son, his heir. Judas would do him proud of that Faustus had no doubt. He'd waited so long for a child and now finally there was young Judas, shame Constance hadn't been able to give him their other son.

When his icy eyes started to slip shut Father Blackwood backed quietly out of Judas' bedroom and headed down the hall to his own room. Once inside the dark-haired warlock stripped off his shoes and clothes until he stood in nothing but his open pants. His suspenders hung at his thighs and his hair had turned into a chaotic mess but he didn't care, Faustus crashed down into bed and kicked the last scraps of fabric from himself before he pulled the covers over himself and passed out for the night... what little was left of it anyway.