Let's see who Booth is going to talk to about saving St. Vincent's...


The next afternoon found Booth in the District of Columbia's diocesan office, waiting to see the Archbishop, and wondering if this errand really was a good idea.

He'd made a lot of phone calls that morning, wanting to make sure he had everything in place before he presented his case to the Archbishop, but still...he knew it was a harebrained scheme at best, and he expected his plan to be shot down as generous but impractical. However, he also knew he'd never be satisfied until he tried to do something about the situation at St. Vincent's.

No matter what happened, the fact that Bones was on his side would make the effort worthwhile. She wasn't able to join him that afternoon because she had to present a lecture at Georgetown, but the realization that they were in the process of repairing their relationship was enough to give him confidence. If the damage from the past six months could be ameliorated, anything was possible. Maybe that hope...maybe that's what'll give me the edge I need. I hope so. I hope this isn't a fool's errand…

His musings were interrupted by the receptionist. "Agent Booth? Archbishop Wallace will see you now…"

"Thank you." Rising from his seat, he followed her down a short corridor to a large, well appointed office. He was met by a tall, elderly man who offered a firm handshake.

"Special Agent Booth. How good to see you again." Gesturing to a chair, the Archbishop turned to his assistant before sitting down behind his desk. "Mrs. Hope, please bring us some coffee."

"Thank you, Your Grace…" Booth sat down, trying to control his nerves. "I appreciate you taking the time to see me."

"Of course. I must admit to being relieved when Mrs. Hope said your visit wasn't related to some sort of murder case." The elderly man shuddered slightly before speaking. "Even though three years have passed, I still miss Doug. It was difficult to fathom the events leading to his untimely demise, but, of course, I know he's in Heaven with our Lord, and that gives me some relief..." Sniffling slightly, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry for becoming so emotional..."

"No need to apologize. I know his death was upsetting for you." As the Archbishop composed himself, Booth's expression was grim. "It may help to know, Monsignor, that the man responsible for your Vicar General's death is himself deceased. Once the FBI figured out who it was, I personally took care of the matter."

"And, of course, you received absolution afterwards? Although perhaps in that situation, it was unnecessary..." Seeing Booth nod, the older man continued. "May God forgive me, but that news does make me feel somewhat better. Thank you for letting me know." Coughing softly, he tried to smile. "On to better things, however. Tell me, Agent Booth...how is your lovely partner? I assume Dr. Brennan is still your partner, correct? I can't imagine you'd want to give up working with her, as pretty as she is..."

"Um...Dr. Brennan is fine…" Booth cringed slightly, remembering what he considered to be Bones' lack of courtesy during their last visit. "And yes, we still work together…"

"You know, I like her very much." Seeing Booth's surprise, the Archbishop continued with a chuckle. "It had been a long time since someone had called me by my first name. I'm so used to the formality of my position that it was refreshing to hear her call me Steve." He grinned at Booth. "However, I'm sure your strict Catholic upbringing won't allow you to do that."

Booth couldn't help but laugh. "I'm afraid not, Monsignor…"

The Archbishop chuckled again. "Just as I thought. And her brother? How is he?"

Booth paused as Mrs. Hope brought the coffee into the office. As he added some sugar to his cup, he continued. "Russ is doing well. He's married, and has adopted his wife's children. He's working full time and so far as I know, he's stayed out of trouble. I know he appreciates your concern for his welfare, Monsignor. I'll be sure to let him know that you asked about him."

"Good. Thank you." The Archbishop observed Booth for a minute or two before clearing his throat. "So...if your visit isn't about a case…"

"Then what am I doing here?" The men both laughed. Shrugging, Booth took a sip from his cup. "I'm here on a personal matter of sorts. I'd like to talk to you about St. Vincent's Church."

Surprised, the Archbishop raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I see...but I understood from Mrs. Hope that you were a member of St. Teresa's parish in Georgetown."

"Yes, I am...but I've heard from various sources that the diocese is considering the closure of St. Vincent's and…I was wondering if that could be avoided somehow. It's such a beautiful old church..."

Staring into his coffee cup, Archbishop Wallace sighed softly. "Yes, it is...but the annex...the wing that was added later...it's in horrible shape. It should've been demolished several years ago."

"I know that, but…"

"Agent Booth…" Sitting back in his chair, the older man pressed his fingertips together as if in prayer. "Contrary to popular opinion, I am not a Scrooge. Believe me when I tell you that I hate having to close any of the churches in this diocese." He bit his lip slightly as he fidgeted with his cup. "When I was a boy growing up in a tiny town in Arkansas, our little parish church had to be shuttered, which, as you can imagine, created many difficulties for the faithful it served. The nearest Catholic Church was 15 miles away, so instead of my parents and my six siblings being able to walk two blocks to attend Mass, we all had to pile into my father's pickup truck to make the trip to the next town over. I still remember how cold it was riding in that old truck's open bed, but, no matter what the weather, we went to Mass every Sunday." He sighed softly. "I know how badly it affects a community when a church closes, but the unfortunate reality is that there's only so much money to go around, and it may not make good economic sense to spend the money to revamp the existing structures at St. Vincent's for such a small congregation when St. Martin's has much newer facilities just a few city blocks away."

Setting his cup on a nearby table, Booth folded his hands in his lap. "I understand, Monsignor...I really do. My grandfather's church in Philadelphia has been closed, and while it was hard on him, we both realize that things happen beyond our control, especially when it comes to finances." Inhaling deeply to settle his nerves, he continued. "I've actually got another idea in mind."

"Go on...I'm listening." Archbishop Wallace smiled pleasantly. "I promise to keep an open mind…"

"Well...I think we can both agree that the nave at St. Vincent's is beautiful, and it needs to be preserved, right?"

"Except for the fact that it needs a new roof, that's true.," the Archbishop agreed. "But...the parish hall…"

"Just hear me out, okay?" Seeing that the Archbishop was interested, Booth rushed to continue. "I've got a buddy at St. Teresa's that owns a contracting company, okay? He does commercial remodeling, and he said he'd do the renovation on St. Vincent's at cost. In other words, he wouldn't worry about making a profit. All he asks is that the building materials be supplied…and that somebody else does the demolition."

Archbishop Wallace shook his head. "But that would still be expensive, Agent Booth…"

"I know, but here's the deal." Booth leaned forward in his seat, tapping the Archbishop's desk for emphasis. "At St. Teresa's there's a group of us guys who do repairs and other stuff around the parish buildings and on the houses of some of the older folks in the church, and we'd be glad to do the demo at St. Vincent's for free, okay? And I've talked to Dr. Brennan and one of her colleagues, Dr. Hodgins. They both said they'd be willing to foot the bill for the building materials needed for the renovation with the idea that St. Vincent's parish hall would be used as a soup kitchen and food pantry. The congregation would have access to the new facilities, of course, but there could also be a soup kitchen installed, and there'd be a way to distribute food from the parish hall during the week. See, that way, even if the congregation has to be blended with St. Martin's, that beautiful old building could still be useful, and maybe some of the older congregants from St. Vincent's could volunteer at the food pantry, so they'd still feel connected to the place. Think of it, Monsignor...think of the outreach the diocese could do there! I know there's been interest in the facilities from some of the community food banks in the area...they'd love to use the building because it's such a good location, or maybe St. Martin's could kind of take the food pantry under their wing as one of their outreach ministries. All you'd need to do would be to assign some Sisters of Charity to run the place for the diocese, in partnership with the food banks, okay? They could feed people...maybe provide clothing for folks and possibly some health screenings…they could use the Sunday School classrooms to offer some counseling or maybe for 12 step programs...and maybe even an after school program for kids in the neighborhood. There are literally hundreds of possibilities for the ministries that could be offered there!"

As an inspiration struck, Booth took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn't appear too obnoxious. "As I'm sure you remember, Monsignor, St. Vincent de Paul worked most of his life serving the poor. It just seems fitting that a church named for him should serve that purpose, too, doesn't it? So...anyway, that's my idea. It won't cost the diocese very much, okay? I mean, I know there'd be some upkeep on the church, and maybe the diocese would rather sell the land, but still...I'd appreciate it if you'd at least give my idea some consideration."

After studying Booth intently for a few minutes, the Archbishop finally nodded. "It seems as if you've given this idea a lot of thought." He rubbed his chin slowly. "I'm curious, though...why all of this interest in St. Vincent's? It isn't even your parish…"

"It's hard to explain, I guess." Booth sighed quietly, gathering his thoughts. "You know, I've probably walked past that church hundreds of times. It's on a street between a diner I frequent and my office, and I never paid it much attention to it until about two weeks ago. I was feeling sorry for myself, and I was kinda blue…" He hesitated, not wanting to mention Sister Philomena. "...and I just felt the need to go inside and pray. Afterwards, I talked to Father Silvestri and he mentioned that the church might close, and it struck me as so sad, you know? I mean, the church was there when I needed it, and I wanted to do something in return. I wondered if there was something I could do to help fix things, that's all. Having something else to think about besides my own problems made me feel a lot better."

Feeling awkward under the Archbishop's gaze, Booth shrugged before continuing. "I know it may be kinda lame, thinking a guy like me could fix a big issue like that, but...I thought I'd give it a try. It's not like I have anything to lose…"

"Actually, it's not 'lame' at all, Agent Booth." The Archbishop smiled gently before picking up a large book from his desk. "If you read about the lives of the Saints, you'll find that often they were normal people with a good idea...an idea they wouldn't give up on, and with the Lord's help, they were successful."

"I'm definitely not a saint, Monsignor.," Booth chuckled. "Not by a long shot…"

"Nor am I, Agent Booth!"

As both men laughed, the Archbishop finished his coffee and rose from his chair. "I'll give your idea some consideration...thoughts and prayers if you will...and I'll let you know my decision by the end of the day tomorrow."

"Thank you, Monsignor." Booth extended his hand to the man sitting across from him. "I look forward to hearing from you one way or the other. I can see myself out. Goodbye."

"Thank you, Agent Booth. I appreciate your concern for the less fortunate. Goodbye, and Godspeed."

Smiling as he left the office, Booth walked out to his SUV, knowing he'd done the best he could. It was out of his hands now.

Oooooooooo

Later that same night, a gray sedan pulled up in front of St. Vincent's Church. After speaking briefly to his driver, a tall, elderly man left the vehicle and stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the glowing Rose window.

Awestruck by its incredible beauty, he blessed himself and said a short prayer. Ave Maria, gratia plena…

"Good evening, Father."

He was surprised to see a young nun standing next to him. Realizing she didn't know who he was, he chose not to correct her manner of addressing him. "Good evening, Sister." Checking his watch, he grimaced slightly. "It's quite late for you to be out by yourself, isn't it, my child?"

"There's always work to be done, Father, no matter how late it is." She pointed up at the window. "It's gorgeous, isn't it? It was imported from Italy over a hundred years ago."

"It is quite beautiful. It would be a shame to lose this work of art simply because of the diocese's financial difficulties, wouldn't it?" Archbishop Wallace smiled as he glanced at the nun. "I think we need to keep our religious heritage intact, no matter the cost."

She nodded. "I agree. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be going. Good night, Father."

"Good night, Sister." Turning to get into his car, the Archbishop was surprised to see that the nun was already out of sight. "Ah, the grace of youth. Alright, Henry...let's go home."


In case you don't remember, Archbishop Wallace was in the episode The Knight on the Grid.

Thank you for the kind reviews. They are appreciated.

It may be a few days before I publish the next chapter, but I promise to complete the story. I need to do some editing on the next few chapters. Laura