Work Text:
FRIDAY
SEPTEMBER 14, 2007
It was a dark and stormy night. . .
Father James Hathaway smiled to himself at the clichéd, but accurate, description of the evening. Outside, a heavy rain mixed with strong winds created quite a tempest. Due to the inclement weather it had been a particularly quiet session of confessions at St. Giles. Just a few diehards had ventured out to admit their secret sins and ask for God's forgiveness.
Although there were still 15 minutes to go before the scheduled 8:00 PM cut off time, James was tempted to pack it in and head home early. Curling up on the sofa with a nice hot cuppa and a book of poetry sounded especially appealing on a night like this. And yet, he was reluctant to leave. Partly because it was his duty to stay, in case a needy member of his flock made the journey to his doorstep. But also because he enjoyed the tranquil solitude of the church. It settled him, centered him, gave his soul peace in a way very little else in his life did.
Unfortunately, the silence and lack of parishioners also gave him time to think. And when he had time to think, his thoughts always turned to a particular someone. Someone who had become very dear to him. Someone he felt closer to than anyone he had ever known. Someone he could imagine spending the rest of his life with.
Someone he shouldn't want and couldn't have.
He was pulled away from those traitorous desires by the creaking of the church doors opening and closing, a sound almost lost beneath the whistling of the wind and the pounding, steady beat of fat rain drops splashing on the ground. Measured footsteps squeaked on the marble floor, heading towards the confessional. Moments later the door to the left compartment opened then clicked shut.
James sighed softly under his breath, knowing that his cosy evening plans were going to have to wait a little longer. His congregation came first, foremost, and always. He crossed himself then slid open the covering to the small grate. "May God, who has enlightened every heart, help you to know your sins and trust in his mercy," he greeted his guest in a calm, soothing tone.
The voice that came from the cubicle was one James knew quite well, and never expected to hear in such an environment. "Bless me father for I have sinned," came Robbie Lewis's familiar Geordie accent. "Is that what I'm supposed to say? I've never done this before. Just what I've seen in movies and on telly."
An involuntary grin pulled at James's lips at his friend's unease. As Robbie hadn't introduced himself, James pretended not to know who he was talking to, treating the exchange as any other confession. "You're doing fine," he assured the man.
"What do I do next?"
"Tell me your sins so they may be forgiven," James instructed, patiently.
"Where do I start?"
"At the beginning."
There was a slight chuckle. "Well, as I said, I've never done this, so that could take a while."
The smile on James's face spread at just the thought of getting to spend 'a while' with Robbie. "As long as it takes," he assured. "We've got all night."
"Let's hope it won't come to that." James heard Robbie take a deep, bracing breath before he spoke again. "Well, I guess there's all the standard ones. I've taken the Lord's name in vain at least once every day of me life. Failed to rest on the Sabbath. Coveted me neighbor's ass."
James tried to bite back a laugh at that but wasn't quite successful. "I don't think you've got that one right."
"Close enough though, eh?" Robbie said, a touch of humour colouring his words.
"If you say so. Anything else?"
"I flipped off a driver or two in traffic today."
"Sounds kind of low," James commented, knowingly.
"Prob'ly closer to ten."
"That's better."
"Then there was the sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll."
"Ahh, the cheerful promiscuity of your generation," James teased, momentarily forgetting he was pretending his penitent was an anonymous stranger. "It takes one's breath away." (1)
"Jealous?"
James wished he could see Robbie's face right now. That merry twinkle in his eyes. That pleased little smirk. This game, this easy back and forth that they had played from their first meeting. Dear Heavenly Father above, he'd never get tired of it. "Hardly," he replied in a dry tone.
"Oh right. You're more the celibate, tobacco, and medieval madrigals type."
"Two out of three at least."
"Oooh, tell me more," Robbie urged, playfully.
"That's between me and my God," James pronounced, primly. "We were discussing your indiscretions. Now, I understand the sex and the rock 'n' roll, but drugs? I didn't have you down for a pill popper." (2)
"One cannabis cigarette in me misspent youth," Robbie explained. "That counts, right?"
"It won't damn your eternal soul, if that's what you were worried about."
"Glad to hear it."
"And are you ready to accept your penance now?"
"I killed a man."
Robbie's words, spoken so quickly and seriously, such a departure from the lighthearted mood of their bantering, stunned James into silence. When he finally found his voice a few moments later, he asked softly, "When did this happen?"
"During me last case. There was a man and a girl. His wife. Or rather sister." A nervous titter. "It's a long story." (3)
"I would hear it, if you would share."
"Another time mebbe."
"When you're ready, I'm here," James vowed.
"Yeah, I know," the timber of Robbie's voice was tender and fond. "You're always there."
And I always will be, James thought but didn't say. Instead he prompted, "You were saying. . .?"
"The two of them had kidnapped someone. We were up on a second floor landing, arguing. He grabbed the girl, or tried to at least. Next thing I knew, he had tumbled backwards over the railing and was falling. I tried. . ." There was a pause before Robbie choked out, "I didn't catch him. Not quick enough."
"That hardly sounds like you killed him," James pointed out. "More like a tragic accident."
James could almost hear the casual shrug. "S'ppose so. Still happened on me watch."
"And the girl?" James inquired, concerned for her, but even more so for his friend.
"I managed to hold her back. She's okay, but I don't know. Might've been kinder to let him. . ." There was a bone-weary sigh. "Her future, what's left of it, won't be a pleasant one. Poor lass."
"You did what you could. No one can ask for more."
"Sometimes I hate me job," Robbie admitted. "This one will haunt me for a long time." Another deep sigh. "So much misery over a small twist of Fate."
In that moment, all James wanted to do was climb into the other cubicle, wrap Robbie in a comforting hug, and let him know that everything would be all right. But he couldn't do any of that. There was no proof everything would be all right. As for the hug, well, that was out of the question. He knew, deep in his bones, that if he ever held Robbie like that, he'd never let go.
No, for now, all he could do was let his friend know he wasn't alone, and try to ease his pain. "There are things you have no control over. You have to be able to live with that."
Robbie snickered sarcastically. "Sounds like that soppy Serenity Prayer thing."
A quick grin pulled at James's mouth. "It may be soppy but there is a lot of truth in its simple sentiment."
"Yeah, well, I prefer to find me truth in a pint."
James chortled at that. Leave it to Robbie Lewis to crack wise at a time like this. "To each his own," he replied, playing his part.
"So what do I do now?"
"Do you feel remorse?"
"A' course I do."
"Deinde, ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filli, et Spiritus Santi. Amen," (4) James recited, reverently as he made the sign of the cross.
His words were met with a little awed gasp--a quick intake of breath, shockingly loud in the tiny booth--before the inevitable snarky, "And that means what, clever clogs?"
"You are forgiven," James answered, easily.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
There was a mirthless chuckle. "Shoulda done this years ago. Thanks, Father."
"You're more than welcome. Have you any other sins to confess, or are you off for a serenity pint?"
James was delighted to hear a genuine laugh at his joke. "Actually, there is one more thing."
"Then speak and know peace."
"I've met someone."
And with those three little words, James felt his heart shatter. Everything he wanted, just barely out of reach, now gone forever. It seemed as if Robbie had finally decided to move on with Laura. That was a cause for celebration. Robbie deserved someone who would be good to him. Good FOR him. He had been alone too long. And Laura was a wonderful woman. Smart and funny, with a kind heart. Robbie couldn't have chosen better. James should be happy for his friends, not envious. Not jealous. Not bitter.
But what he should be and what he was were two different things.
James was so busy wallowing in his own disappointment and misery he almost missed what Robbie said next. "I didn't go looking for it. Never expected to find someone who could bring light back into me life, not at this late stage. Someone who makes me feel alive again. There's an attraction, at least on my side. Not sure if it is returned. I hope it is, but you never know, right?"
"And how is this a sin?" James asked, determined to do his job and bring peace to a soul seeking comfort and guidance. That the soul in question belonged to his dearest friend made it all the more imperative.
"It feels like I'm betraying Val and the life we had together."
Of course. It always came back to Val. And though James's heart was in tatters, he would not deny Robbie and Laura a chance at happiness. "You stayed true to your vows during your marriage. You do not betray her by wanting to have another companion to share your time on earth."
"Still feels wrong somehow."
"Believe me, Val would not want you to be alone with just your memories to keep you company," James reassured him. "She would rejoice that you have found another woman to love and make new memories with."
"I never said it was a woman," Robbie corrected.
For the second time that night, Robbie had stunned James into silence. After a few seconds he managed a small, surprised, "Oh."
"But he already belongs to someone else," Robbie continued. "Someone I can't compete with."
"Oh."
"Just me luck, eh? The one person I can't have is the only person I want."
"Oh." And one day James might be able to say something other than 'oh', but today didn't seem to be that day.
"Can you absolve me of that?"
"Are you repentant about it?" The automatic response was out of his mouth before James realized he had said the words, and he immediately facepalmed.
"Nope. Not a bit." There was a bark of bitter laughter. "Don't matter. I doubt there are enough Hail Marys you can task me with that will keep me outta Hell for this."
"It doesn't work that way. . ." James tried to explain but Robbie interrupted before he could continue.
"I'm sorry, James. I shouldn't have said anything. Just forget I was here." There was the snick of the confessional door opening then the noise of quick footfalls rushing up the aisle, and finally the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut.
It all happened so quickly that it took a minute for James's brain to process what had just transpired. When it did, he was out of the booth in a flash, tossing away his violet confessional stole as he ran as fast as his long legs would go, out of the church and into the pouring rain. "Wait! Robbie!" he called out desperately. "Please! Wait up!"
Miraculously, Robbie heard him through the deluge. He stopped on the muddy path and turned around, watching with obvious apprehension as James approached him. Hands held up at chest level, as if to hold off any oncoming outburst, he pleaded, "James, I was wrong to do that in there, but I didn't know how to tell . . ."
"You can have it," James stated simply, firmly, cutting off whatever else Robbie was going to say.
It was obviously not what Robbie expected to hear. His hands dropped to his sides as he muttered a confused, "What?"
"It is. They are," James babbled, his heart ready to burst with all the joy it was experiencing, able to now speak the words he had kept secret for so long.
Robbie's eyebrows creased in puzzlement. "What are you on about, man?"
"Your feelings." James dared to reach out his right hand, brushing long fingers tenderly across Robbie's rain-soaked cheek. "Your attraction. They're reciprocated. A thousand fold."
But instead of bringing a smile to Robbie's face, James's declaration seemed to distress him. "I'm sorry, lad," he said softly, brokenly, his words almost lost behind a sudden boom of thunder. "So sorry."
"I'm not." Before Robbie could protest further, James gently cupped that beloved face in his shaking hands and pressed a loving kiss to startled lips.
A year of yearning. A lifetime of want. Finally fulfilled.
It lasted only a moment, but a moment was all they needed. As they broke apart, Robbie looked at him, eyes filled with warmth and wonderment. "Is this a dream?"
"I hope not." And with that, James leaned in for another kiss. A proper kiss this time. One filled with fire and passion, with long-repressed fervor and unexpressed desires. The heat of Robbie's mouth contrasting with the chill of the damp night air was everything James could have wanted, and more.
As it stretched on, tongues were introduced, lips sliding against each other in the cool evening rain. James slipped his arms around Robbie's shoulders, as Robbie wrapped his around James's waist, pulling him in tighter, closer, holding him in place. Something James was glad for, as he felt his knees grow weak and feared he might swoon like a Victorian maiden.
It was his first kiss. His last kiss. His only kiss. The one kiss that would ever matter. The one kiss he would never forget. The one kiss that would change his life.
The one kiss that would save him.
When they eventually came up for air, Robbie quipped, "So are we just gonna stand here in the rain all night like in 'The Notebook'?" Another clap of thunder in the distance echoed as he added a self-depreciating chuckle, "Although I'm pretty sure I look less like Ryan Gosling and more like a drowned rat right about now."
James gazed at Robbie--hair mussed up and plastered to his head, rain streaming down his lined, wise face--and thought he looked beautiful and perfect. But he knew he'd never hear the end of it if he actually spoke those words aloud. Instead he replied with a wry, "I was thinking more of that scene in 'Spider-man', but neither of us is hanging upside-down."
"Silver linings, eh?" Robbie's hand ran along James's soaking wet cassock as he asked, curiously, "What happens now?"
Dipping his head to kiss a stray raindrop from Robbie's nose, James invited, "Come back to mine. I have some dry clothes you can change into." Reaching up to his throat, he calmly and deliberately pulled off his priestly tab collar with one finger. "Or not, if you prefer."
"I believe you're leading me into temptation, Father Hathaway."
"And will you follow?"
Robbie flashed a rakish grin as he pulled James closer to him once more. "Gladly." And with that they fell into an intense, sensuous kiss as the rain continued to pour down, purifying and blessing them in turns.
THE END