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Geraldine and Father Jud get coffee every week.
It’s strange. She’d never expected to get so close to the guy, but then she’d never expected Wicks to kick the bucket like he did so she supposes she should’ve seen more of the unforeseen in her future.
He’s settled in pretty well, to her surprise. She’d honestly expected him to move out of Chimney Rock after the first six months, but no, one year and six months and going strong still. It’s honestly impressive.
They meet up at a coffee shop every Thursday - apparently it’s the least busy day, church-wise, and of course Jud has two priests working with him now. Little Chimney Rock has definitely grown since the Era Of Wicks and all that, with people moving in just to gawk at Our Lady. He’d complained to her about the long hours of confession he had to take every day before she suggested, finally, that he go and ask whoever his boss was for help, and, well, lo and behold, the man has precious free time to spend with her now.
Detective Blanc still visits, oddly. She’d thought that after the week of hell that was Monsignor Wicks’ murder investigation he’d never want to come back, but on the six-month mark he’d come back, and then one year, and then three months after that, and then two months, and now it’s every month if the man can help it. She can almost always tell when the guy’s coming to visit because Jud visibly brightens and practically comes skipping into the coffee shop like he’s twelve years old.
Now, Geraldine doesn’t really know much about priesthood - doesn’t really know much about Catholics as a whole, she’s Jewish - but she does know that priests aren’t really supposed to get too attached to anyone. And Geraldine does know quite a few things about Father Jud, so she’s pretty confident in saying…
Well, the man is attached. In a decidedly unpriestly manner, she thinks.
The thing is, Geraldine may be a police officer, but past her job, she doesn’t really like to get involved in other peoples’ lives. She’s quite content to watch people fuck up their lives - she’s not gossipy by any means, but she won’t spare herself good entertainment out of the goodness of her heart.
Jud, though…
Well, she’s grown fond of the kid, is all. She doesn’t even know if he knows.
She’s ruminating on all of this with a cup of coffee in her hands, leg bouncing. It is, incidentally, a Thursday. And the bell jingling on the door means someone has entered, and that someone is, incidentally, Father Jud.
Good lord.
“Afternoon,” Jud smiles. She grins back, tighter than she would’ve liked. Jud must already sense something is wrong, because he cocks his head at her, but he simply goes up to the counter to order his coffee.
How does she even bring something like this up? It’s not like he’ll be exactly forthcoming with the information. He’s a priest. It’ll be deny, deny, deny. But it’s clear to anyone with eyes how infatuated he’s become with Blanc.
(She has some choice thoughts about Blanc of all people being the man Jud wants to break his no-romance vow or whatever for, but it’s not her place.)
Her leg bounces faster. She can ask him about it. They’re… friends, or something like that, aren’t they? She’s just a concerned friend. It’s not an accusation. This isn’t an interrogation or anything. She’s just… curious.
Jud sits down in front of her. “Alright, what’s up?”
“You’re in love with Benoit Blanc, aren’t you?”
Good fucking Lord and Satan, too.
Jud rears back in his seat. “W- What?”
Well, if this is the path that Geraldine has chosen, then by god, she will continue on it. “Jud, please, put some respect on my name. I am actually a competent police officer, believe it or not, and I’d have to be blind not to see it.”
“I -” Jud’s fully flushed red. “Geraldine - I’m a priest.”
“I know, I know -”
“I haven’t done anything with him! I - I have oaths! I have vows!”
Geraldine has to laugh. “I didn’t say all that, Jud.” The poor guy’s eyes are wide and he’s white-knuckling the table. “I know you haven’t done anything with him. That’s not what I’m asking, though.”
Jud seems to short out a bit. “Wh - ??”
She tries to be gentle about it, which, admittedly, she’s never been very good at.
“Jud,” she says, a hand on the table, “I’m asking if you’re in love with him. Not if you’d ever act on it.”
She doubts he would, anyway. She doesn’t really think Jud’s the type of guy to break his vows. He’s too committed to being a Good priest, capital G and all, everything that Wicks wasn’t and should’ve been. And she admires it, but he also has to be honest with himself here.
Jud looks down at his coffee. Geraldine feels bad for the guy, honestly. It’s gotta be hard.
“It’s… I,” he sighs. “It’s complicated, I guess.”
Geraldine takes it for what it is - a confession.
“Is it?” she hums.
He just nods. Morose. His lips thin and his eyes downcast.
“Look, kid, you’ll get over it,” she assures him. “I’d know. I’m no stranger to… y’know. Getting involved with people I shouldn’t.”
Jud’s eyes perk up a bit with interest. She shakes her head, firm. There’s no way he’s ever getting that story out of her. She was a mistake that Geraldine will happily never talk about for the rest of her life.
The kid sighs again. “Thanks,” he mutters. “That’s good to know, I guess.”
She pats his arm in what she hopes is a comforting way, and he smiles at her. There’s something so good about the kid. She, stunningly, has faith he’ll push through it.
In the meanwhile, though -
“Now tell me how your two priestlings have been getting along recently?”
Jud groans, puts his head in his hands, and Geraldine settles in for the next hour.
-
Owning a bar and all, Nikolai’s gotten pretty good at reading people. It started as just a hobby, of course, something to do to pass the time when hours were slow, trying to read people’s lips and examining their body language, seeing what he can parse out of their conversations. He’s no Benoit Blanc, but for what it’s worth, he’s no fool, either.
Father Duplenticy (who insists Nikolai call him at least Father Jud, because it makes him feel odd, but then Nikolai feels odd calling a priest by first name) comes to Diavolo’s about every month or two with Detective Blanc. They’ve grown quite close ever since Wicks’ death - even when they don’t come to visit his bar, Nikolai hears whispers of the two of them around town without fail every time Detective Blanc comes around to visit.
He won’t lie and say he’s not… curious about the two of them. He’d fallen down a Google rabbit hole not long after Detective Blanc had shown up in Chimney Rock, watching feature-length YouTube videos about every single case of his he could get his hands on. The man is uber-famous, it’s almost terrifying - which is why it’s so surprising to Nikolai that no one seems to know about Blanc’s monthly jaunts back to Chimney Rock. In fact, he doesn’t seem to have much of a relationship at all with his past clients, at least none so obvious as his relationship with Father Duplenticy.
Nikolai… well, Nikolai thinks it’s a little strange, is all. While Father Duplenticy rarely ever gets buzzed, let alone drinks at all, Blanc is always very, very drunk by the end of the night. Sprawled over Father Duplenticy and practically falling on top of him as they leave the bar - well, one would naturally have… suspicions.
Father Duplenticy is obviously oblivious to all of this. The man is the platonic ideal of a Good Samaritan, and he clearly only thinks of Detective Blanc as a good friend. It’s almost laughable how very obviously Blanc wants Father Duplenticy in ways that are not godly - and how ignorant the priest is to this.
So, call it concern, call it even nosiness - Nikolai has to step in.
The opportunity presents itself quickly. Father Duplenticy orders another round of drinks for him and Blanc (though Nikolai knows that Blanc will end up drinking both), and Blanc announces his need to slip off to the bathroom.
Nikolai has never prepared drinks so quickly in his life. They’re only whiskeys, and he’s at Father Duplenticy’s end of the bar in maybe two seconds flat. It’s a personal record.
“Thank you, Nikolai,” Father Duplenticy smiles. The man is naturally friendly. It’s criminal that someone would take advantage of his good heart.
Nikolai clears his throat. Tries to think of a way to word his concerns.
“So… you and Detective Blanc have grown really close, yeah?”
Father Duplenticy grins into his hand. “Yeah. It’s really nice. Haven’t really had a lot of friends around here,” he says. Then, turning around quickly, “of course I don’t mean you!”
“It’s fine,” Nikolai waves him off. He hadn’t really considered himself all that close to the priest anyway. “I was just wondering, well… hm.”
The priest’s smile seems to sort of freeze on his face. “Yes?”
“You know he’s… well…” Nikolai raps his knuckles on the counter a couple times for courage. Clicks his tongue. And then he bites the bullet. “Queer. Right?”
“Yes,” the priest says, and his face darkens. Nikolai feels rather like a deer in headlights. “And?”
Nikolai backtracks. “I don’t have a problem with it!” he assures him. “I don’t care.”
Father Duplenticy cocks his head at him in a then what? manner and Nikolai just - well - spits it out.
“You do know he’s into you.”
He watches the priest’s face go through a range of emotion, including but not limited to shock, disbelief, offense, confusion, and finally settling back into shock.
“...right?”
Father Duplenticy barks a laugh. “He’s not.”
And Nikolai admires his faith in the detective. Really, he does. It’s just that. Well. “He is. Father.”
“Believe me, I would know,” the priest snorts. “He’s just friendly, Nikolai. Seriously.”
Nikolai rubs at his temples. “Every time you two come in here,” he hisses, “Detective Blanc is falling all over you. And I don’t know if I can just say it’s because he’s drunk.”
The priest’s eyes are widened.
“Respectfully, of course.”
He laughs, a bit hysterical. “Look, really, Blanc and I are just good friends. I appreciate your concern, Nikolai, but he doesn’t see me like that. I’ll be fine.”
Christ.
“Alright, fine,” he mutters. “I won’t say I told you so.”
The priest rolls his eyes. Detective Blanc stumbles out of the bathroom, as if on cue. Father Duplenticy waves him over, suddenly all smiles.
Nikolai watches (discreetly, out of the corner of his eye) as Blanc leans up against the bar, trying to keep himself from falling over. Father Duplenticy grins at him, placing a hand against the detective’s arm to keep him upright.
“Missed ya, darlin’,” Blanc says, his speech slurred, and Father Duplenticy throws his head back in a laugh.
“You were gone five minutes, Blanc,” he snorts. Blanc throws an arm around his shoulders, leaning in close to the priest, and Nikolai can hear no more. Their heads are pressed together, noses near touching. Blanc’s hand rests near the collar of Father Duplenticy’s sweater, toying with the cotton near his neck. There’s a smile on his face that Nikolai can see from all the way behind the bar, and his eyes are half-lidded, staring at the priest.
Really, Nikolai has no idea how the priest is so damn oblivious.
-
Langstrom doesn’t have favorites.
That would be absurd. Many men come in and out of the diocese, and he can’t afford to linger on any one of them.
Well.
What with the Cy Draven of it all, Langstrom finds he does have to linger on one Father Jud Duplenticy. It seems like every few months Draven comes out of the woodworks with something new to try and harass Our Lady of Perpetual Grace with - and so Langstrom, too, has to go down to Chimney Rock every few months and meet with Draven, Draven’s shiny new lawyer of the month, Father Jud, and Detective Blanc.
Langstrom’s no fool. He’s well aware that many priests, if not most of them, stray from their vows. And, admittedly, chastity is a hard vow to keep.
He just didn’t quite expect for Jud Duplenticy of all the men he knows to be the one to break that vow.
He doesn’t notice it at first. Or, rather - he notices, but he doesn’t think much of it. Jud has been through an ordeal, and Blanc stood beside him through that ordeal. It’s only natural that they would bond. And sure, Blanc is rather more touchy with Jud than is maybe appropriate, but Jud is a nervous man, and Langstrom isn’t anyone to judge how he finds calm.
And maybe Jud stays altogether too close to Blanc, but he’d want protection, too, if Cy Draven was looking at him like he wanted his blood. Maybe Jud goes a little too red when Blanc is teasing him, but he can’t control his body. Maybe Blanc is a little too eager to stay behind with Jud when everyone else is leaving, but they’re good friends, and they’re allowed time to chat.
Langstrom doesn’t actually believe any of that, though.
He turns a blind eye. He has to. Jud is a good priest, and he’s done amazing work in Chimney Rock, really. He can’t afford to kick the guy out on a suspicion, no matter how obvious the suspicion is. After all, that’s all they are - suspicions, suspicions that Jud wants something with Blanc, suspicions that Blanc wants the same - but suspicions are all they are, and truthfully, he doesn’t think that they’ll ever act on their wants.
At least, he doesn’t think Jud will.
-
Fathers Smith and Paul were sent down to Chimney Rock about six months ago. If you ask Father Paul, he’ll probably have it down to the exact second. Father Smith, personally, doesn’t care that much.
It’s what makes the two… clash, say.
See, Father Smith gets it, to a point. It really is great work that Father Duplenticy has done with Chimney Rock and Our Lady of Perpetual Grace. Of course, Smith had been at the diocese long before Paul, so all Paul knows are stories that have been twisted far beyond what actually happened. But he was also jazzed at first to get to work with the guy.
But it’s just that. He’s just a guy.
Paul acts like every other word out of Father Duplenticy’s mouth is the next commandment. Smith, personally, thinks that they are allowed to make calls that differ from what Father Duplenticy thinks. In fact, he’s fairly sure Father Duplenticy encourages that kind of stuff. But nope, not Paul. He refuses to do anything without Father Duplenticy holding his hand.
But the one thing that they can actually agree to be civil with each other about is Detective Blanc.
See, the problem is that for some reason, a lot of the residents at Chimney Rock seem to have a kind of problem with Detective Blanc. The man never sits in at the church, mind, but Smith has seen him about, and he’s also seen the looks people give him.
Well, he won’t stand for that. And unsurprisingly, neither will Paul.
Blanc is a good man. He’s kind, charming, always willing to help out despite what seems to be a strong dislike for the Catholic church. Maybe his one flaw, but nobody’s perfect, Smith thinks. And, above all else, he is a very good friend to Father Duplenticy.
Father Duplenticy is… he likes to hide it, or he likes to think he hides it, but he struggles. He struggles with a lot. Smith thinks it’s probably some leftover shit from Monsignor Wicks’ murder, personally. But he really doesn’t know. All he does know is that whenever Blanc is in town, it seems to simmer down, a bit.
Maybe part of it is that Father Duplenticy seems to relax around him. He takes more breaks, doesn’t spend all of his time at the church or the rectory, and people seem to come flowing into the church in the days after Blanc arrives. Not that people don’t already come - the church is very big for a small town - but it would be a lie to say that it doesn’t increase when Blanc is around. And Smith knows well that it’s not because Blanc is around, not directly anyway, because the man doesn’t ever come around the church.
It’s late at night, and Father Paul has roped him into late night cleaning, for some reason. Like they don’t have people to do that already. But Paul insists it’s Good Samaritanism, or something, and Smith just goes along with it.
They’re sweeping - or, Paul is sweeping, Smith is holding a broom and going back and forth - when he hears hushed conversation from somewhere inside the church. No one else is in here at this hour - well, no one should be - and he glances at Paul. Paul, who is already looking at him. They look at each other for a moment, then nod, and Paul sets down his broom to go investigate.
It’s not like the church is particularly big by any means. They find them pretty quickly. The ‘them’ in question are two men. And Smith isn’t a detective by any means, but he’s not an idiot either. There’s not many people who can get into the church this late at night, and Smith and Paul are already in here, which means that one of those men is Father Duplenticy. And if one of those men is Father Duplenticy, well, it follows that the other one is Detective Blanc.
They’re leaning close to each other, having some sort of quiet conversation. It looks serious. Otherwise why would they be so close in the first place?
Smith’s about to tell Paul they should just go, but Paul’s clearly come to the other conclusion, and before he can drag the guy away his mouth is opening and -
“Father Duplenticy? Is that you?”
The two men spring away from each other. Smith sighs. Father Duplenticy whips around, and Paul waves.
“Wh - Why are you two here this late at night?”
“Sweeping,” Smith says before Paul can launch into his speech. He’s got the sense that they’ve interrupted something they shouldn’t have, and he’s not gonna let Paul take up more of their time. “Sorry, we were just going.”
“No, no, that’s fine!” Father Duplenticy says, but he really doesn’t sound fine. “We were just leaving anyway.”
He grabs Blanc’s sleeve and they both walk to the doors of the church, and Smith thinks he hears something like “we were?” under Blanc’s breath.
Smith glares at Paul, who seems none the wiser.
Well, he hopes they work whatever that was out, at least.
-
“Benoit,” Jud hisses under his breath. They’ve only just come out of the church - really no reason they were inside so late at night in the first place other than Jud hasn’t seen it in the dark in very long. Of course he’d had no idea that anyone else would be there - not Benoit, and certainly not Fathers Smith and Paul.
“Wasn’t my fault!” Benoit protests, his hands raised in surrender. “I didn’t know anyone else’d be there!”
“It’s not even - we were in the church,” Jud says. “Why would you - I would never -”
“Well, you seemed more than willing,” he smiles, and Jud groans.
“I was not.”
And he really wasn’t - he would’ve told him to stop, and he was about to tell him to stop, and then he’d heard voices from behind them and what was he really supposed to do? He loves Benoit, but the church is a different thing - He may have given His permission for Jud to fall in love, that doesn’t exactly mean He’d be happy watching Jud act on it in His building.
It’s hard enough, every time Benoit leaves it’s like it kickstarts the cycle of second-guessing himself about all this. He’d like to say that he’s reconciled it all, his love for Benoit and his love for God, but he… he really hasn’t. It’s all too often that Jud considers calling it quits once Benoit comes back again only to see the man face to face and realize that he can’t.
Benoit does seem to sober up a bit. “Hey, darlin’, I’m sorry,” he frowns. Jud turns to look at him and moonlight shines in his eyes. He has to shake himself out of it.
“I know you are,” he says, his voice low. They’re not exactly fast walkers, but they are tall, and so it’s not all that surprising that they’re already in sight of Jud’s front door. His heart has calmed, and Benoit’s hand on his arm - it’s helping.
Benoit is good. He doesn’t think himself to be, but he is. He’s good. He’s good. It’s half the reason Jud loves him so much he’ll break his vows for him.
Benoit smiles up at him, and half of it is snark, half of it is genuine. Jud’s heart still flutters the same way it did near eighteen months ago. He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop being so affected by the man.
They’re at the door, then, and Benoit fishes the keys out of his jacket pocket. There’s a click of the lock, the door opens, they slip inside, and Benoit shoves the door shut.
With the windows closed and the door locked, they're free to do what they want. So Jud lets Benoit push him against the wall and kiss him senseless.