"I'm the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral

Can't understand what I mean?

Well, you soon will."

Barenaked Ladies (One Week)

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On the outskirts of London, stood a nearly forgotten church. It was a small church, an old church but it was his church and that was all that mattered to the twenty-seven year old priest. He carefully lit every candle on the alter and took great care to make sure that nothing was damaged in this daily ritual. Placing the wooden match in the steal ashtray and taking a step back, Father Jacob Rukavok chuckled to himself as he glanced over his shoulder as his life long friend, Sister Brigid Taggart.

In a traditional habbit that never suited her, Taggart had finished sweeping the church and was trying to reach the dustpan on the top shelf of the closet. Jacob found it amusing how she kept leaping into the air in an effort to grab the pan but miss every time. Moving over to her, he smiled at her attempts before folding his arms lazily and leaning back in a more comfortable stance. "Vertically challenged are we?" the man jested, keeping the atmosphere between them friendly.

"Well, it's better then being horizontally challenged I guess," she turned to face him, pausing her attempts of reaching the dustpan to leaned on the broom in her hand instead. He usually made fun about how short she was compared to him and it was one of many constant inside jokes. Yet when she thought about it, many people were short when they were compared to him.

Jacob lifted an eye brow and questioned her, while poking what little fat he had, "are you implying that I'm fat? 'cause for the record, I'm not fat but just big boned." He then moved past her to easily reach the dustpan and brought it down from the top shelf. Reaching over for the broom in Taggart's hand he offered, "I can finish up here, if you want. You've been quite a large help already."

"It's the least I can do," Taggart cheerfully allowed him to take the broom, feeling there was little point to reject knowing that he would win the argument. Dusting her hands and giving a little stretch she watched him place the dustpan down and eventually sweep the dust in. Standing for a moment she felt a bit out of place and started to moved towards the kitchen, "Anyway would you like some tea?"

He chuckled to her question, "Do you remember Sister Dorothy and her afternoon tea time?" still sweeping the dust into the pan, the man didn't look up from his work. It was the way she asked about tea and the habbit she wore that brought that question to his head, although it wasn't much of a question as he knew she would remember Sister Dorothy. The sister wasn't someone anyone could easily forget.

"How could I ever forget Sister Dorky, she was the clumsiest person I had ever met!" Watching him, she found it an odd question for him to ask but was interested in why he brought her up. Sister Dorothy was well known in the orphanage for breaking at least one cup or plate a day. It was even rumored that she even broke Brother James' leg once, by tripping over her feet and knocking him down the stairs.

Pausing in his work to stand up, he leaned lazily on the broom and looked at Taggart as they reminisced about their childhood memories. It was fun to remember the good times they had together while growing up, many times it was the small and stupid things they did that was the best to look back on. "Well just I had a flash back to the time we put salt in her afternoon tea instead of sugar."

"We? If I remember right it was you who did that, and me who got punished." Taggart corrected as she chuckled, although in all honestly he was always there to get her out of trouble just as quickly as she got into it. What she found more hilarious was the fact that who would have guessed that they would grow up to be part of the church.

"Yeah but you have to admit that was pretty funny, especially when she spat it all out into Father Bruns' face. Man he was so crossed," It was like it happened yesterday, hiding in the brushes with Taggart as they watched the sister spit tea all over Father Bruns' and the shade of red both turned. If only Taggart could have contained her laughter, they both would have gotten off punishment free.

"Crossed would be putting it lightly. Oh, I should go put that kettle on as it won't do it by itself!" She excused herself, eventually making her way into the kitchen with a smile that from their last conversation. It was the times like this that made Jacob feel like a big brother other then a friend, the memories and the fact that she knew deep down inside that Jacob would do anything to make sure she's alright.

Jacob lifted the dustpan and emptied it outside, pausing for a moment to enjoy the warmth of the sun. Leaving the door open in order to allow the wonderful breeze and light in, he moved back to the closet to put the broom and dustpan away. It was then he heard a loud crash come from the kitchen, followed by a loud 'Shit!' being yelled from the small room. Shaking his head in silent disapproval at the profanity, he made his way to the small wooden table and made it ready for tea by placing down napkins and costars. The whistle soon echoed off the church's walls and Taggart came out of the kitchen with two cups of tea in her hands.

"You know what I take in my tea?" Jacob asked, amazed that the cup she handed to him already had cream and sugar in it. A bit weary though of what she might have done to it, he sat down at the table to talk first and hopefully switch the cups to be on the safe side, "Anyway I'm actually going down to Vatican City for a while, since my countless letters about how forgotten this place is seems to be continually being stolen, I figured it's best to go down in person. So I'm leaving tomorrow morning, which is a shame as I would have loved to spend more time with you being that you just got here."

He waited until she sat down across from him and place her cup on the table to cool before he continued, "Well I guess the point is that I'll be away for several days and I was hopping you can look after the church while I'm gone." Knowing she would eventually start allowing her eyes to wonder, Jacob just waited for the perfect moment then he switched their tea cups just incase she did put something in his.

Taggart was glancing around the church while her friend talked, taking note of the beautiful stain glass windows and how many there were before her focus was back on Jacob. With confidence she shrugged, "I think I can manage that, anyway what's the worse that can happen? The place will burn down. Well we needed a new church anyway right, so I don't think you have much to worry about." She joked with him, taking a sip of the tea.

Noticing how she sipped her tea and was fine, he realized how childish he was for suspecting that it wouldn't be. "Really, the worse thing that could happen is that the Vatican listens to what I say and I get a flock. Man writing Sunday sermons are such a pain you know!" He finally lifted up his cup of tea to take a sip only to then taste a horrible flavor.

Salt.

Taggart laughed full heartedly at her friend as he spat it out onto the table, "Oh Jacob you're far too predictable!" She told him and soon Jacob joined in the laughter. The good times like this is why Taggart fought in the unknown Hellish wars, she fought to keep people like Jacob safe. She did fear that being there could put him in great danger but dismissed that as unlikely to happen, not if she did her job right.