*It was around 11pm at night, and he was one of a few people still within the walls of the modest church. The Holy Trinity Catholic Church was closed a number of years prior due to a failing attendence and extensive termite damage. But more affluent members of the community, interested in holding onto a piece of 'history' donated the funds to bring the building up to code. The attendence was still as low as ever, but he preferred it that way.

He had only been a priest for a few years when he was able to take the 'opportunity' of being the priest for the night at this church. Normally it would've been closed, but he insisted that there was a certain amount of people who would only seek the guidance of the Lord in the middle of the night, and someone should be there to open them with welcome arms.

Of course, the church bought it. It was for more selfish reasons, much like his putting on the cloth, that he requested such a shift. Less people meant less to deal with. He had joined the priesthood to escape the people.

He gave the church a once over, lapping around the pews and looking for anyone new before heading to the first row, sitting down, and opening a book. Not the bible, mind you. He was a priest, but one could only read the word of god so much.*

----------------------------------------------------

*It was late, and instead of being in bed like a good girl, Gillian was out exploring New Orleans at night. Like her entire family, Gillian had been raised Catholic. However, as her life began to change and she became deeper and deeper involved with the criminal element, her faith left her. This made the odd pull she felt when passing the Holy Trinity Catholic Church a mystery. If she were to make confession, the poor priest would fall asleep before she finished and she'd be saying Hail Marys until the day she died. Brushing her hair away from her face, and checking the gun she kept at her side, she entered the sanctuary and looked around. Empty. Well, what was to be expected late at night on a Friday. The guilt and regrets wouldn't be realized until tomorrow morning, anyway. Still feeling an odd compulsion, she walked toward the front of the church, stopping at the second row and looking around again.* Why am I here? *She said, her voice barely a whisper.*

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*He had heard the door creak open, and didn't bother to look up from his book. If it was someone there to rob the church, they'd be disappointed. Only when the footsteps got close and stopped, and a quiet voice ask a rethorical question, did he look up from his book, and turn his head towards the woman*

Well, I'd guess that you were looking to get out of the cold night. *He chuckled softly* Or, perhaps you're here to find something you've lost.

*He leaned against the pew, his arm bent over it as he turned to face her. He was a handsome, younger man, with snady gray/black hair. It gave him more a distinguished look, than one of age. Clean shaven, but a darker shade where his stubble was starting to re-grow*

---------------------------------------------------

*When he turned around, she was expecting to see a much older man based on his hair color. Most young men ere vain enough to dye theirs at the first hint of gray. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but the words froze in her throat. What were the odds of this happening?* Donald? Is that you? *Without even thinking about it, her hand raised and she pointed at herself as if he might be confused.* It's me, Gillian. *She exhaled sharply, and just shook her head in surprise.* I-I didn't expect to see you in New Orleans.

-------------------------------------------------

*The Friendly smile melted from his face, as he squinted and leaned forward a bit more. The lower lighting and mainly candlelit altar in front of them made it more difficult to see, but it was easy to see the look of surprise on his face*

Gillian...I...it's been how many years since I saw you last?

*He rose quickly, tossing the book from his hand and onto the pew, standing in front of her, still with that look of shock and surprise. Of all the people he wouldn't have expected to see her again for as long as he lived...what were the odds?*

Nor did I expect to see you, well...ever to be honest. Not after the way we...parted paths.

--------------------------------------------------

*She laughed, a bit nervously, before raising her eyes to meet his again.* Yeah, about that. I did what I had to do. *She wanted him to understand. Once they had been very close, but a lot of time had passed and it appeared they had both changed.*

I must say, out of all possible careers I saw for you, priest was never on the list. You really have changed. *It was only a matter of time before he asked her what she was doing. She already knew that she wasn't going to lie. Not because it was a church, or because he was a priest, but that to lie would imply she was ashamed of the choices she had made.*

---------------------------------------------------

*He nodded slowly, looking for pockets to place his hands into, and cursing inwardly when he realized the pants he wore didn't have any on the sides. He moved his hands upward and crossed his arms, never taking his eyes off her.*

Well, it has been a while. After you left, both my parents died within 6 months of each other. It's the sort of thing that puts your life into perspecitve, I suppose.

*He made it seem like their deaths had made him realize all that was wrong in his life, and try to fix it. Of course not. he ran from it like he did most everything else.*

What brings you here?

-------------------------------------------------

Oh. *She felt guilt that she hadn't been around to help her friend, and guilt was something she didn't have to deal with very often.* I'm sorry to hear that. Your parents were such good people. *Her words sounded so fake, so empty. There wasn't really anything she could do about it now. It's just another mistake.*

I live in New Orleans now. I moved down here a couple of months ago, and work for the Devereux family. *Everyone knew who the Devereux family was. A good portion of New Orleans worked for them in some form or fashion, much of it on the illegal side.* How long have you been in New Orleans? If I'd known you were here, I might have tried coming to church. *She attempted to smile, but it just seemed fake to her, so she stopped. Although she was glad to see him, he probably wouldn't be glad to see her much longer, being a priest and all.*

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*He shrugged* It was over five years ago. I've dealt with it since then *He lied, of course. How can you deal with something that you continue to run from. He met her fake smile with one of his own, which she would probably be able to see right through.

Of course, dropping the Devereux name caused him to raise en eyebrow. He'd only been in New Orleans for a few weeks, but words travels fast on who could be considered the 'players' in the town.*

I've been here for a few weeks. So what do you do for the Devereux's?

*He wondered if she'd lie about it, of if she really did have a legit job with them.*

----------------------------------------------------

*He was lying, she knew it. She -almost- made a comment about how that was bad behavior for a priest, but she didn't. He'd have to answer for what he did the same way she would, if God actually existed, anyway.* I take care of problems, provide security on occasion, pretty much whatever they need me for. If you want to discuss things in more detail, we should probably go to one of those confessionals. *The longer she spoke, the more tightly she drew her arms across her chest. The air inside the church was warm, but Gillian felt cold inside for some reason. It wasn't fear or anger, because she could handle that. This was something quite different.*

---------------------------------------------------

*He just looked at her, and sighed softly. She left without so much as a goodbye, and gave him some sort of flippant excuse when he called her. They'd been together off and on over the years he was in the military, but this last time was so...sudden and final. Another thing he decided to run from instead of face down.*

I see. Must be an exciting line of work...

*He said it, almost as if he didn't mean it. The smile gone from his lips, and he seemed to be lost a little, looking at her. Only after a few seconds of silence did he look over at the confessional booth.*

Confessional? Feel the need to confess a sin or two? Lord knows I've got a few under my belt as well.

*He certainly wasn't talking like a priest, that was for sure.*

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*She'd hurt him when she left, that much was obvious. If she'd told him what she was going to do, well, he would have tried to talk her out of it. In her line of work, making attachments, making friends just led to people getting killed. She had hoped he'd find someone, forget her, and be happy. Of course, things didn't work out that way.*

Yeah, let's go 'confess'. *Opening the black curtain, she walked in, sat on the bench and waited.* I'm sorry for leaving like I did. *Apologizing never came easy to Gillian.*

----------------------------------------------------

*He followed her to the confessional booth, not really expecting her to seriously go for it. Usually one enters when the priest can't see them. But then, neither of them were very 'conventional' by any means.

The apology, however, that hit him hard, and was -definately- not what he was expecting. He sat in silence for a few moments, trying to compose himself slightly, and figure out what the hell to say to that.*

It's in the past, Gill. What's done is done, and that's about it.

*The cold feeling she had felt earlier passed over him like an old suit. Not anger or fear...just like an old feeling creeping up on him. One he hadn't felt in years.*

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*She rubbed her arm absent-mindedly while she waited for him to answer. When he finally did, she was able to let out the breath she didn't know she was holding.* I'm glad, Don. I never meant to hurt you. I just thought it would be better to leave. *She snorted, crossing her arms against her chest. Although her voice was quiet, it was quite obvious she was pissed at herself.* I'm getting quite good at running away. I left my friends, you, St. Louis, my old organization...they tried to kill me by the way, three times at least...If they'd known who I had been, my parents would be dead. As it is they're hosting charity balls and lying about how I'm a missionary in some third-world country or something. They'd just die of embarrassment if anybody figured out what I really did. How could they face their friends and say 'Our daughter kills people for a living.'? They probably wish I'd never been born.

---------------------------------------------------------

*He sat, silent as she let it all out. A full discosure was definately not what he was expecting either, but then nothing this night had been very expected. An old fiancee comes back from his past, to tell him she's an assassain for the local crime family. But then, he was no saint himself...*

I doubt they feel that way, Gill. Parents are funny in that regard, how they feel about their children, no matter what choices they make, they still find they love them.

*The words he spoke seemed less his own, and more a recording. He snapped out of it, blinking a few times, looking at the darkened booth, then at her through the mesh, barely able to make her out*

This...look, want to grab a cup of coffee? I hate this place all of a sudden.

*He stepped out of the confessional box and walked over to her side, pulling the curtain aside. For some odd reason he felt the urge to just talk to her like a normal person. Not as priest, nor an old lover, or even a friend...but just as a normal person.*

Up for it? It's not like they need me here anyway.

---------------------------------------------------------------

*She smiled, and this time it was authentic. She shook her head, even managing to chuckle a little bit.* Don, the fact that you know my parents and can still say that gets you the golden star for the day. I tried calling once, and Becky the housekeeper said that they'd told her not to take calls from me...but, let's find something else to talk about. Like how I can be here 10 minutes and already be corrupting a priest. *She winked.* Besides, I'd love to get some coffee.

------------------------------------------------------

I'm a priest, Gill...not a saint.

*He smiled back at her, genuine as well. The cold feeling slowly leaking away, as he held out a hand, helping her up. He told her to wait just a minute and went into the room he had in the back to change into normal street clothes. Just a t-shirt and jeans. He grabbed his wallet, and let the other person there with him, a night custodian, know he was going to ...spread the word of God in a local neighborhood. The Janitor looked at him, then to the woman, and beamed.*

"Hey, at least it's

not a little boy!"

*He spoke in spanish, which thankfully Don didn't understand. He simply smiled and nodded, saying thanks for understanding to the janitor and stood by Gillian again*

You probably know the area a little better than I do, but there's a coffee place about 4 blocks west of here, I think.

---------------------------------------------------

That sounds great. It's going to be as much about the company as it is the coffee, anyway. *As they started walking, she tilted her head and looked at him.* What was it that made you decide to be a priest? Was it the passing of your parents or something else? Believe it or not, my job choice was an extension of my existing skill set. I put all that fighting experience I got to good use. Course, I've been in the hospital more times in the last year than I was before I turned 18. *Perhaps it was selfish, but Gillian found herself wondering if it was her fault that he'd chosen this life for himself.* But, don't worry about that. The Devereux family has an excellent health care plan. The pension's not so good, but excellent health plan. *Hopefully her attempt at humor would keep him from worrying about her too much.*

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*He shook his head, trying to wrap it around what she was now doing for a living.*

You were always an excellent fighter, but...working for people like that? I won't pretend you just do a 'little of this, little of that'...you kill people for money, or you'll be killed. What kind of life is that?

*He purposefully avoided answering the question about becoming a priest. To be honest, he told himself it was because his life was going nowhere and it needed direction, and a purpose. Doing good seemed to fit the bill. Or did it? Whatever, he shook his head to himself and turned to look at her as they walked, trying to understand how the woman he once knew turned into the killer he was now going out for coffee with.*

------------------------------------------

*He didn't understand. She should have known he wouldn't. She was getting angry at herself again, and it showed. She stopped dead in her tracks and just looked at him for a minute.* I don't hunt down little old ladies, nuns, and schoolchildren for some kind of sick sport. The people I take out are criminals. *Her tone was angry and harsh.* People like -me-. Soldiers kill people for money too, Don. Remember? *With tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, she turned away from him. It was only because they knew each other so well they could hurt each other so much.*

-------------------------------------------

*He stopped and looked at her, glaring a bit, suddenly rethinking going out for coffee.*

Yeah, well...when I killed it was for country, not cash.

*They stood silent, and he felt his throat close slightly, as a lump formed in it...swallowing heard he took in a deep breath and let it out. Seemed all the tension they'd both been feeling and letting build was getting to a dangerous level.*

Ok...that was too much...I'm sorry Gill. And you're right...you aren't some sicko...you're just doing a job. I guess what I meant was that I dunno how you got to where you are now. One mintue we're planning a life together, and the next you're gone without a fucking trace.

*And the priest act was dropped. He felt like a little weight had been lifted. Wearing the clothes, he played the part. But when he wasn't within the house of God, he was as much a sinner as she was, most likely*

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*At least he admitted she wasn't a total sicko. When she turned back around to face him, her face was wet, but the tears were gone. Her voice was quiet, almost sad.*

I don't know how I got here either. I left, then things started changing so quickly, and I ended up here. *She looked down at the ground. She stared into his eyes, trying to make him understand.* I ran because I was scared. Every time I started getting comfortable, somebody close to me got killed. So I kept running, but I can't run anymore. No matter what happens to me, I'm staying here to handle it. I owe it to myself, and the Devereux family, and to you. I wish I could have been the happy homemaker you wanted, but that just wasn't me. I think part of you always knew that, too.

----------------------------------------------

Yeah...you never were the kind of woman who would fit neatly into the June Cleaver role...ever. And I always knew that, and figured it was probably why you left.

*He sighed deeply and they continued to walk. He didn't look at her as he continued*

You don't owe me a fucking thing, Gill. You live your life how you want. Just because I'm here now all of a sudden dosen't mean that the pain and the years will go away. But it also dosent mean you have to suddenly apologize for something you probably never would have apologized had you never seen me again.

*He turned, reaching into his pokect and handing her a handkerchief to wipe her face with* And don't apologize for that either. You always did live how you wanted...I just find it surprising you'd let yoursel get into something totally against your nature...one where you're not in control.

--------------------------------------

*She took the handkerchief and wiped her eyes. It smelled faintly of his cologne, the smell of which usually brought a smile to her face.* That's the funny thing, I usually was in control. I had the ultimate control, the holding of another individual's life in my hands, to wipe out the spark of his humanity at my own whim.

*She drew a ragged breath, painfully aware of the fact he wasn't looking at her anymore.* I know you're still angry with me. I don't expect that you're ever going to forgive me for what I've done, lord knows I wouldn't. All i ask is that...*The statement even stopped her. What exactly did she want out of this? It sure as hell wasn't getting him killed. She reached out and grabbed his arm.* You never told me why you became a priest. Was it me, your parents' deaths, or were you trying to make up for something I don't know about? Some dirty little secret that's making you hide behind a priest's collar? You can tell me, it can't be as bad as what I've done..

----------------------------------------

*He was content merely listening to her, but when she grabbed his arm and practically demanded he tell her why he'd become a priest...he hesitated. Again, it was a question he wasn't fully sure the answer to.*

I'm definately not priest material. I work nights, and avoid people as much as I can. When I'm not within those walls...in the 'house of God', you wouldn't know me as one.

*Again, he deftly manuevered around the question, not sure he wanted to face that paticular demon yet.*

We're here....you still take your coffee the same way?

*He opened the door for her, a little shop just called 'The Daily Grind' and 24 hr coffee and donut shop*

-------------------------------------

Yeah, I do. Thank you. *She noticed that he dodged the question, but this time she wasn't going to push the issue. After they almost attacked each other on the street, she knew things would probably never be the same again. It was her fault, so she really shouldn't be surprised. The odd thing about Gillian was that when she wasn't being fatalistic, she could be quite the optimist.*

--------------------------------

*Sitting down, she waited for him to bring the coffee back. Lifting the cup to her mouth, she sipped, feeling the warmth spread.* Aah, quite bearable.

*Cupping her hands around her mug, she set it on the table, and looked at him.* It's going to sound silly, but I felt drawn to your church tonight. I wasn't feeling guilty or sad or anything, I just felt like I needed to be there. *She chuckled a bit, shaking her head from side to side.*

Yeah, I'm not doing any better with the 'Big Guy' since then, either. Kinda makes me wonder why I felt the urge, unless it was to see you. Some people say the heart remembers what the head tries to forget..

*Lifting the cup back up to her mouth, she took another drink.*

------------------------------------

*He nodded, sipping from his cup, and looking around the shop. He always had a habit of making a note of every person, what they were, where they were in a resturant. He'd done it since he was a little kid. It made him smirk and he turned to her and replied.*

Yeah, well...the 'Lord' works in mysterious ways. And I doubt it was your heart that lead you to me anyway. *He continued to smirk at her, and took another sip. The tension that was so taught was starting to ease a little again, and he tried to keep the conversation light.*

So it looks like I'm going to be in New Orleans for at least the next few years, depending on how things go with my standing in the church. And if I'm still a priest.

------------------------------------

*She watched him look around and just had to shake her head. He had done that for as long as she'd known him. One time she asked him what he got out of it, and he didn't have an answer. Just one of those things you do, like breathe.*

Well that's good, Don. If I ever get the urge for a late night confession, I'll know where to go. *She winked at him.* What do you mean 'if I'm still a priest-? You gonna punch out the Padre? Insult the Pope? Or just decide to head out in search of greener pastures?

*She was glad he'd be around. The idea of having someone outside the Family was appealing, albeit a bit dangerous for him. Then again, he was a priest. Priests knew when and how to keep their mouths shut so her secrets would be safe.*

-------------------------------------

*He shrugged and looked down into his cup after taking another sip*

I'm not a priest, Gill. You and I both know that. *He looked up and at her* It's...it's just a fucking mask. You -knew- me better than anyone. Do you think I'm priest material?

*He shook his head, chuckling a little sarcastically at the comment* Of course not. But Oh well. It's a life, and it's purpose to something. Like the ARMY was when I joined.

*For some odd reason, he was at conflict. He enjoyed seeing her again, but then, he also hated how he was so easily sitting down with the woman who ruined his heart.*

-------------------------------------------------.

*He was pissed, she could tell. Maybe this meeting was a bad idea. But, would it be better to leave? Probably not. All that would do is confirm to him every bad thought he ever had about her. He also remembered the soldier crack she'd made earlier. Well, she had been pissed, and he knew about her temper. Reaching her hand out, she covered his.* No, Don, you're not priest material. It seems you've got as many unresolved issues with the Big Guy as I do. *This conversation was much more painful than she thought it would be. Perhaps the wounds between them ran too deep to ever heal properly.* Then what is the purpose, Don? Somehow I don't see a lot of people coming into the church at midnight looking for salvation. You, me and the night watchman were the only ones there, remember?

Never mind. I lost the right to tell you what to do when I ran off and left you. I'm surprised you were even willing to speak to me again.

-----------------------------------------------------

*He shrugged as she held onto his hand with hers, covering it. He looked at it. There was a time when it would have brought him all the comfort in the world, but right now it looked like so much dead weight. He turned away from it and to her, trying to find rhyme and reason to his actions, and what he was saying.*

The purpose? Fine. You want to know why I became a priest? To escape. You hated control and I craved it. Just like the ARMY, only God didn't seem the type to kick me out for screwing a few things up. You left and my parents died. What else was I supposed to do? It hurt and I didn't want to deal with it. Simple as that.

So yeah, maybe you -did- cause me to become a priest. Or not. Whatever...

*He pulled his hand back, trembling a bit as he finished off his coffee. Everything in him screamed he should get up and leave, but he sat there, breathing methodically, purposefully. Just wondering if he was even there to begin with, it was all surreal.*

--------------------------------------------------

*She withdrew her hand, it was obvious that it brought him no comfort.* You know what, Don, I'm gonna do you a favor. Let's go find someplace where we can be alone, and you can tell me exactly what you think of me in as foul a language as you want. You can rant and rail against what a little cold heartless bitch I am or whatever suits your fancy. Once you get all that bile out of your system, then you can tell me if you actually want to talk to me anymore. You can even take a swing at me if you want, and I won't even fight back. Just say yes, and we're out the door...*Her heart was pounding in her chest. He was -very- pissed at her. If letting him beat the crap out of her would make him feel better, it was the least she could do.*

---------------------------------------------------

*He looked at her, wondering if she was serious, and her eyes were set on him, and he could tell. Whenever she tried to just BS her way out of things, she would look someone dead in the eye. But, when she was serious, she tended to let her eyes wander. the exact opposite of what was 'expected' of liars. He imagined it served her well in her line of work. He stood and turned to her*

Alright then. Where?

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There's a nice empty lot behind this place. I didn't see any cars, there aren't any streetlights. Works for me. *Although her voice was strong, part of her was terrified by the thought of what he might do. She quickly drank the rest of her coffee and headed for the door without looking back. If she looked back, she might have lost her nerve and ran like she always did. Making her way to the lot, she stopped and stood with her hands behind her back waiting for what was to come.* Let me have it, Don.

--------------------------------------------------

*He followed her, actually letting the anger welling up inside him take over for a moment. THere they were, standing behind this place, in a dark, empty lot. And for a shining moment he thought with a small sense of satisfaction on raising his hand and just slapping her hard across the face. But...looking at her there, standing and just waiting for his punishments on her for her crimes of the past...

He couldn't. He just couldn't. He simply broke down, and screamed at the top of his lungs, and collapsed onto the ground in a sort of heap, looking up at her with wet eyes.*

Fine...there's no where for either of us to run to now, is there? You fucking bitch...you left me with nothing. The only order I had in my life and you stole it from me. Just like fucking Stephen. Fucking....god....WHY?

*He yelled out the why, finally, for the first time in many years, accepting the fact that his brother died, and it was probably his fault. He looked up at her, still not fully crying, and got up.*

Go home, Gillian. Go home and never look back.

*He started to walk away, back towards the church.*

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*Although she'd been dreading it, the sight of him collapsing on the ground like that overcome by emotion hurt her much more than any physical confrontation ever had. It was worse than being hit, being stabbed, being shot. The full weight of what she had done to him landed on her like a ton of bricks. She had killed his spirit, his joie de vivre, and it was the only murder she ever regretted. There was nothing she could do. She just stood there and watched him retreating in the distance until she collapsed onto the dewy grass and cried like a baby.*

----------------------------------------------------

*He was content simply continuing to walk, the burning in his eyes and throat starting to ease...when he heard her start to weep. Everything in him fought aginst turning, but he couldn't stop himself. He turned to look at her, sitting on the grass and crying. So he decided to go back.

Why though? Why was he returning to her? She deserved what she felt and more. It was only a fraction of what he felt over Ste-.... Stephen. Could he have simply projected his full hatred over his death onto her because she left him too?

Soon he was standing over her and handing her his handkerchief again.*

You really shouldn't sit on the ground like that...you never know where its been...*He spoke very softly, in starck contrast to a few minutes ago*

---------------------------------------------

*When she opened her eyes, he was back? What was this? He said he never wanted to see her again, and now this? She didn't know what to say at first, so she took the handkerchief and wiped her eyes again.* Stephen didn't die just to hurt you, Don. It was a tragic accident. *She remembered how he'd looked when he got the news. He didn't eat or sleep for days afterward. She'd done her best to help him, but it had never been enough. Now, she wished she'd found a way to do more.* I always thought you were strong enough to handle me leaving. If I'd known how much it would tear you up, I wouldn't have gone. You probably think I meant...to...*She squeezed her eyes shut to prevent more tears from leaking out while she regained her composure.* If you honestly want me to leave, I will. God, Don, the last thing I want to do is hurt you anymore. I guess I just don't know how to stop. Just tell me how, and I'll do it. *She looked up at him with a look of great sadness.* If you need to yell at me more, go ahead. Really, I mean it. I deserve whatever you wnat to give me.

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*He sighed deeply, just letting all the negative emotions flow though his body, trying to ignore the more violent and yalling impulses...he looked at her and he didn't see the woman who broke him, but a woman he once loved. And cherished. And just someone as broken as he was.*

You know what you deserve? The thing I can never give myself. Compassion.

*He reached out to her to help her up from the ground* Come on...there's no need to sit there anymore...

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*She wiped her face one more time before taking his hand and pulling herself back to her feet.* Thank you, Don. *She just didn't know what to say, but it felt as though some of the weight had been lifted from her. Somehow she'd have to figure out a way to make it up to him, if that was even possible.* I'm not running away this time, Don, so you're stuck with me as long as you can stand me. Or until we have to come back out here and do this again. *She smiled a little as she spoke, but just a little bit.*

---------------------------------------------------

*He gave a little smile too at the comment, and just breathed in deeply, and then out. It was somewhat theriputic, what they'd just did. He still felt like shit, and he had a long way to go...but he also felt like this was a long overdue step in the right direction.*

So where do we go from here? Not emotionally, but physically. I doubt a church is really the place I want to be right now...or you.

--------------------------------------------------

*She was beginning to feel tired, no, drained by the emotional rollercoaster they'd been riding since she set foot in the Holy Trinity Catholic Church. However, since they'd finally resumed being civil to one another, she wasn't quite ready to leave.* You're right about one thing, Don, I don't want to go back to church. If you yelled at me like that I hate to think about what you'd say to Him. *It was a joke, but only partially. He was angry at God as he was at Gillian and Stephen, probably more, which makes his joining the priesthood quite ironic.* Have any recommendations?

--------------------------------------------------

Well, my place is only a short cab ride away. I haven't had time to get a car yet. It's better than standing out in the cold yelling and crying at each other...*He chuckled a bit at the notion, breathing more normally, and easily. And yes, he was angry at God, and Her and Stephen...at it all. Only he never allowed himself to really face his anger and hatreds. Just burried them and tried to mask the pain. But her showing up like this...doing everything he didn't expect...it was like a cold shower outside on a december morning. Somehow, she'd shocked him back to reality*

Or I can just get you a cab or something to take you home.

-------------------------------------------------

I'll go back with you. We've still got a lot of things to talk about. Besides, if you feel like yelling again, you don't have my number. No matter how loudly you yell, I probably won't hear you. *She tilted her head slightly, and smiled. Then, she remembered something and paused.* Damn. I gotta warn you, Don. If we become friends again and it doesn't just look like a priest/penitent thing you could be in trouble. Enemies of the Devereux family might come after you to try to get to me. I can't do that to you, just wouldn't be fair.

--------------------------------------------------

*He nodded, knowing full well the dangers that he now faced. With her occupation, she had enemies. Ones that wouldn't hesitate for a second to hurt those closest to her.*

I'm guessing you found a way to hide your past...so then it looks like all they'll see me as is another priest/confidant of yours.

*He nodded and was accepting of that fact. They were basically stuck with each other now, like it or not, and would help each other deal with the baggage.* Don't worry about me, I can handle myself...you know that. *He turned to her and gave a small smile. He was able to definately take care of himself, should it ever come to that, but if they kept up the apperances of a priest and 'sheep'...then it might never come to such an occurance.*

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I never doubted you could take care of yourself in a fight, Don. I just don't want you to have to fight on my behalf. Especially considering you almost kicked my ass back there. *She laughed. It seemed as though the ice between them was finally melting just a little bit. The thought made her feel good.* Yeah. You just look like a priest to the rest of the world, long as nobody saw that little show in the parking lot. *She made an X over her heart.* I'll keep your secret, promise. Since I confessed, I -know- you have to keep mine. *Taking the handkerchief he gave her out of his pocket, she gave it back to him.* Thanks. I mean it. If I had to get a kick in the ass from somebody, i'm glad it was you.

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Well, I hardly 'kicked your ass'...I merely broke down like a little girl and had a tantrum.

*He smirked at her, shrugging* And I guess this means I should remain a priest for a little while longer, if for nothing else than to keep things 'looking' normal. For your sake as much as mine.

*He nodded then, placing his hands into his pockets as the arrived at the church* And yea, you -did- confess...so I'm bound by god to keep those secrets...I'll be right back.

*He stepped inside and went to the phone, dialing a cab, and then went back outside to wait with her* It'll be here in about 15.

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I said -almost- kicked my ass. *Her face grew more serious.* I saw that look in your eyes. You were considering it. *The streets were basically empty as she leaned against the church waiting for him to come back out the door. When he did, she stood up.* Thanks. I always did have a way of getting you in trouble, even when we were kids. If it's any consolation, you make a pretty cute priest. *She chuckled. Her hands stayed at her sides as she fought the urge to hug him. That wouldn't really be appropriate, but it would feel so nice.*

I can tell this keeping it looking innocent thing's gonna be tough. *Her face grew serious again, and she stepped closer to him. Before she could stop herself, she'd put her hands on his chest, looking up into his eyes.* I don't want you to get hurt. I know you can defend yourself but..*Her head dropped and she found herself looking at her hands as she responded* It's really dangerous around here right now. *Her voice dropped to a whisper, so only he would be able to hear.* If anything happened to you, I'd just...I'd never forgive myself. You'd have been a lot happier if you never met me, Don, don't you see that?

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*He was a little shocked by her sudden closelness, and had to fight the urge to step back from her. He looked down at her, and actually found himself enjoying her hands on his chest, the scent of her perfume and shampoo mixing together...the heat of her body. It took the cab pulling up to the curb to snap him back to reality. It seemed like years had just passed between them in the short seconds.*

We all live with our shoices and mistakes, Gill. They define us. If I never met you, then maybe my life would be different, but then so would -I-.

*He responded in a whisper as well, breaking away from her to open the cab door for her.*

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*It did seem like a great deal of time had passed between them in the briefest of periods. She hadn't even noticed the cab until he went to open the door for her. He always could be a gentleman. She sat down in the cab, getting comfortable. Clearing her throat, she looked up at him with a smile.* Thank you, for everything. *As she watched him, everything became clear. She still loved him. She loved Don after all these years, all the anger, the sadness. That's why she'd been so willing to let him beat the crap out of her. Maybe he still loved her and that's why he couldn't do it. Even God would have to agree she'd deserved it and more. So many questions, but this wasn't the time or place to be asking them. She'd noticed ths surprise on his face. Yeah, the realization had been shocking to her too, but there wasn't much she could do about it now. Trying to repress feelings was what had drove her into this life, gotten her into all this trouble. Now, she had dragged him in after her. Shit. That was the last time she was gonna walk by a strange church, by god. The idea of hiding this was probably a pipe dream, anyway. Soon, the Devereux family would find out, and she didn't want to think about what would happen then.* That's true, Don, and I do thank you for that. *There wasn't really anything else to say, so she just sat there and waited.*

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*She noticed everything bout the place. It was nice, simple, but nice. He was a priest after all, fancy shit wasn't a requirement.* I can't believe the church doesn't pay your rent. They should just for the fact I doubt they could find anyone to work overnight like you do. *She winked* I would ask if you had a girlfriend, but you know, being a priest and all,that's kind of out of the question.

----------------------------------------- *He just shot her a look at the girlfriend comment, already knowing his answer without his even having to say it. He walked into the kitchen, not clicking on the light but heading right for the fridge, opening it and calling out to her.*

So, want something to drink? I've got water...milk...and I think a soda.

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