TITLE: The Madness

AUTHOR: Augustus

FANDOM: Father Ted

PAIRING: Ted/Dougal

RATING: PG

CATEGORY: First time, fluff, hopefully a little humour thrown in...

STATUS: New, complete

ARCHIVAL: List archives are okay. Everyone else, just ask: you'll give me a happy, and I'll say yes ^_^

WARNINGS: Uh, it *is* about two priests. Not particularly *normal* priests, but priests nonetheless...

SUMMARY: Father Damo's gone mad.

DISCLAIMER: The television program 'Father Ted' and all of its characters are owned by Arthur Mathews and Graham Linehan. I just worship the ground they walk on... both for 'Father Ted' and for Ted & Ralph - they do a good trade in sexually dubious Irish fellows named Ted... ^_^ No money made, no naughtiness intended.

NOTES: I've been searching for Father Ted slash online since I first started watching the show. I've never found any. After a while, I attempted writing some myself... soon to come to the conclusion that it was impossible. Two years later, this decided to write itself. Whether or not it works is your call. If you read it in the right accents and with the show's timing, it'll sound a helluva lot better.

FEEDBACK: Go ahead, make my day *g*

FOR: Mez, who started this damn obsession *hugs*

*************
"The Madness"

By Augustus
*************

(Int. Parochial House. Ted is sitting at the dining table, reading the latest addition of 'Halo' - the front headline is "Pope Admits to Liking Cheese". The rest of the table is covered in the sort of mess you would associate with a five year old who has just discovered the delights of model aeroplane making. It is Dougal's latest hobby. He is not present, but his latest effort - a plane with three wings - is. Father Jack is in his usual chair, fast asleep. Occasionally he mutters obscenities in between the snores.

The relative calm is soon broken by the loud sound of the front door being slammed shut, followed by the appearance of Dougal, who bursts into the room in a state of considerable agitation.)

DOUGAL: Ted!

(He drops down onto the couch, leaning over the back so that he can see Ted.)

DOUGAL: Ted!

(Ted folds his magazine and places it on the table in front of him.)

TED: (bemused) Yes, Dougal? Did you have a good time with Father Lennon?

DOUGAL: You'd never believe it, Ted. He's gone completely mad.

(Ted moves over to join Dougal on the couch, pushing aside a cushion emblazoned with the face of Jesus so that he can sit as close as possible to the younger priest.)

TED: Now, you should be careful about saying things like that, Dougal. Remember what happened when you said that old Mr. O'Loughlin had gone mad?

DOUGAL: (sheepishly) ...Ah. Yes.

TED: It took Mrs. O'Loughlin *weeks* to get the mud from the psychiatrists' boots out of the carpet.

DOUGAL: She wasn't very happy, no...

TED: And remember the time you told Doug Wilson his cat was possessed?

DOUGAL: (guilty silence)

TED: We had bishops hanging around Craggy Island for *five days*! All because it made a strange noise when you stepped on its tail.

DOUGAL: (stubbornly) It had a crazed look in its eye, Ted.

TED: That may be so, but I highly doubt it was in league with Satan. I think the antichrist has better things to do with his time than eating fish and coughing up furballs.

(Dougal still doesn't look convinced.)

TED: Now, are you *sure* that Father Lennon is mad?

DOUGAL: (regaining enthusiasm now that they are back on his original topic of conversation) I've never been surer of anything in my life.

TED: (playing along, although he doesn't believe a word of it) And why do you say that?

DOUGAL: (seriously) He stuck his tongue in my mouth.

TED: (extremely flustered) Are you *sure* about that? You weren't just imagining it?

DOUGAL: Oh, it was in there alright, Ted. It was horrible. Who would want to do a thing like that?

(Ted coughs guiltily.)

TED: I believe it's called a French Kiss.

DOUGAL: Ah. That would explain it, then.

(There is a long pause. Then, suddenly:)

DOUGAL: Ted! Damo's not French!

TED: (calmly) Actually, all types of people kiss each other like that, Dougal. It's really very common.

(Dougal looks very surprised by this revelation.)

DOUGAL: You haven't done it, have you?

TED: (looking rather proud of himself) As a matter of fact, Dougal, I *have*.

DOUGAL: (shaking his head) The whole world's gone mad.

TED: (looking uncomfortable now) Did Father Lennon say *why* he was kissing you?

DOUGAL: ...No.

TED: No reason at all?

(Dougal looks blank.)

TED: Well, that doesn't surprise me.

(He tries to cover his jealously with an overly brisk manner.)

TED: I don't think you should see him any more, Dougal. He's not very nice.

DOUGAL: (easily) Okay, Ted. If you really think so.

(There is a long pause... not a particularly comfortable one. Ted picks at the front of his trousers, while Dougal stares at the clutter on top of the mantelpiece.)

TED: (finally) When you say you didn't *like* it, Dougal, is that because Father Lennon is a man?

DOUGAL: (sniggering) Damo's not a man, Ted.

TED: Yes he *is*, Dougal. He might be all 'cool' and 'trendy', but he's still a man.

(Dougal sniggers some more.)

TED: Well?

DOUGAL: ...What was the question, again?

TED: Did you not like the kiss because Father Lennon is a man?

(Dougal thinks very hard about this. Finally:)

DOUGAL: ...No.

TED: (eagerly) So you might not mind it if *another* man were to kiss you, then? Say... an older man. (He begins to preen somewhat.) A distinguished type... Perhaps someone you've known for quite a while...

DOUGAL: Well, that depends, Ted.

TED: Yes...?

DOUGAL: Well, would this other person be you, by any chance?

TED: (extremely flustered now) Well... I... Uh... I mean...

DOUGAL: (oblivious to Ted's discomfort) Because I might not mind that.

(Ted, however, is too flustered to hear Dougal's reply.)

TED: You're right. I shouldn't have said anything. Of course you would mind. I must have been cr-...

(It finally sinks in.)

TED: You wouldn't?

DOUGAL: Well, I can't really say until I try. But I think that if I had to have someone's tongue in my mouth, Ted, I'd much prefer it to be yours.

(Ted is shocked into silence. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, but nothing comes out.)

DOUGAL: Are we going to do it now, or will we wait 'til after tea?

TED: (coughing nervously) Well... I suppose there's no time like the present.

(He leans in to give Dougal a quick peck on the lips.)

TED: Well? Was that okay?

DOUGAL: What about your tongue, Ted? Was that meant to be involved?

TED: Oh... Yes... That...

(Rather tentatively, he grabs Dougal and gives him a proper kiss this time. Dougal obviously *doesn't* mind, going by his rather enthusiastic response. Just as Ted's hands start to travel southwards, however, Father Jack awakens.)

JACK: Drink!

(The two younger priests jump apart. Dougal looks thoroughly dishevelled. Ted just looks rather sheepish - in an "I just got what I' ve been wanting for years" sort of way.)

JACK: Drink!

TED: Uh... How long have you been awake, Father Jack?

(Jack just stares at him.)

TED: (trying again) Did you see anything? Something... unusual... perhaps?

(Jack makes 'kissie' faces at them.)

TED: (sinking back against the couch) Oh feck.

JACK: *Drink*!

TED: You'd better give him his drink, Dougal. The bottle's on the table.

(Unaware of Ted's angst, Dougal wanders over to the table, picks up a bottle and hands it to Jack before returning to the couch. Jack happily downs the contents of the bottle in one long swallow.)

TED: We'll be in a lot of trouble if Bishop Brennan finds out about this, Dougal. I doubt he'd look kindly on this sort of thing. Priests aren't meant to fall in love with each other.

DOUGAL: ...What's all this about love, Ted?

TED: Uh... Did I say love?

DOUGAL: You did, Ted.

TED: Oh... You see... What I meant was...

(He is suddenly inspired.)

TED: Aha! I was referring to Our Lord's great commandment that we should love our neighbours.

DOUGAL: But you hate that show, Ted. What is it you call it?

TED: (tiredly) Not *that* sort of neighbours.

DOUGAL: "That Australian Shite". That's what you call it.

TED: (sighing) Yes, Dougal.

DOUGAL: (enthusiastically) Can we do that thing again, Ted?

TED: What? The kissing?

DOUGAL I liked it a lot more when you did it.

TED: (chuffed) Really?

DOUGAL: (back to sniggering again) ...Yes.

TED: Well, I don't see why n-...

(He trails off, slowly turning to look at Father Jack.)

TED: Ah. We probably shouldn't with Father Jack in the room.

DOUGAL: (grumpily) Oh, why not? He's not going to tell anyone. And besides, he's sleeping.

(Sure enough, Jack is dead to the world. Actually... it looks almost as though he's *literally* dead to the world.)

TED: You know, Dougal, he's not looking very well.

(He moves over to take a closer look and tsk tsks for a few moments before noticing the empty bottle in Jack's lap. Picking it up, he turns back to face Dougal.)

TED: Is this the bottle you gave him?

DOUGAL: That's right, Ted. You said to give him the one on the table.

TED: (brandishing the bottle) Not *this* one, Dougal. I meant the bottle of scotch. *This* one is - was - a bottle of glue. From your aeroplane.

DOUGAL: Well, who would want to drink that?

TED: (tossing the bottle aside) Well, Father Jack, obviously.

DOUGAL: Ah. Right. (Pause.) Do you think he'll be asleep for a while?

TED: I think he'll be asleep for a *long* while.

DOUGAL: Oh good.

(He smiles. Ted takes a while, but eventually realises what Dougal is talking about. He takes a brief moment to grin back at him, before grabbing Dougal and thoroughly ravishing him. The pashing priests are soon interrupted, however, by a loud, throat-clearing noise. They jump apart, Ted looking guilty, Dougal looking totally oblivious. Mrs. Doyle is standing behind them.)

TED: Ah... Mrs. Doyle. We were just...

MRS DOYLE: (ignoring him) Would you like a cup of tea, Fathers?

(She proffers an overloaded tray.)

TED: We're actually rather busy at the moment.

MRS DOYLE: Surely you can spare time for a lovely cup of tea.

TED: Maybe later.

MRS DOYLE: What about a biscuit?

TED: I-...

MRS DOYLE: (cutting him off) There are digestives, or HobNobs, or home-made shortbread... or would you prefer a sandwich?

TED: Really, Mrs. Doyle, we're quite alright for now.

MRS DOYLE: Are you sure you won't have a sandwich? You would say if you wanted me to make one, wouldn't you?

TED: I would. But I'm really not hungry at the moment.

MRS DOYLE: (Pause.) I'll just go make some anyway. Just in case.

(She bustles out of the room, only after leaving the tea on a corner table.)

DOUGAL: Do you think she noticed, Ted?

TED: It's hard to say, Dougal. You'd be surprised at what women notice when they put their mind to it.

DOUGAL: Will she tell Len, d'you think?

TED: Now, Dougal, we're not meant to call him that. Remember what happened last time?

DOUGAL: ...No.

TED: The bunnies? Do you remember all the bunnies?

DOUGAL: ...

TED: Never mind. No, I don't think Mrs. Doyle will tell Bishop Brennan. I don't think she even has his phone number.

DOUGAL: Wouldn't it be in the directory?

TED: No, he had to get a silent number after that business with the prank calls.

DOUGAL: That's right. Did he ever find out who that was?

TED: No, I don't think so. It's a pity he changed his number. Father Jack did so love the conversation.

DOUGAL: Remember that time he made Len cry?

(Ted smiles, reminiscing.)

TED: That's right.

(They fall into a comfortable silence, Ted playing idly with a loose thread on Dougal's vest. Finally:)

DOUGAL: Are we going to go to Hell now, Ted?

TED: (flustered) What do you mean?

DOUGAL: Well, we're not meant to do that thing with each other, are we?

TED: Oh, I don't know about that. I mean, yes, officially it is a sin. But what does the Pope know anyway? I think there are too many murderers and robbers and people who kick puppies and laugh about it in the world for God to worry about us.

DOUGAL: That's good, Ted. I don't want to go to Hell. All that singing, and playing harps... And I just don't trust clouds.

TED: Uh... That's *Heaven*, Dougal.

DOUGAL: Really?

TED: Really.

DOUGAL: Well, you learn something new every day, don't you?

(There is another long silence.)

DOUGAL: Ted, if we're not going to go to Hell for it... can we do that again?

TED: I think we should. As often as possible. And then we could do some other things...

DOUGAL: What sort of other things?

TED: Well... I suppose we could push those two beds together.

(Dougal frowns and shakes his head.)

DOUGAL: Oooh... Oooh... I'm not too sure about that, Ted.

TED: (disappointed) Oh. Well...

DOUGAL: (cutting in) I *do* like my duvet cover an awful lot. I'm not sure I'm ready to give that up just yet.

TED: (brightening up) You wouldn't have to.

DOUGAL: No? Well, I'm all for it, then. When do we start?

(Ted can't quite believe his luck.)

TED: ...How about now?

DOUGAL: Sure. (Pause.) What were we going to do, again?

(Ted shakes his head in mild exasperation, but doesn't bother answering. Instead he just pulls Dougal in for another, very thorough, kissing.)

DOUGAL: (muffled, around Ted's kiss) Oh! That!

(They kiss for a good few minutes without pause. Possibly they would have continued in such a manner until sundown if it were not for the return of Mrs. Doyle, who staggers into the room, carrying a huge tray, covered with enough sandwiches to feed and entire congregation.)

MRS DOYLE: Here you go, Fathers. I wasn't sure which filling you might like, so I've done them all.

(Ted and Dougal jump apart.)

MRS DOYLE: (oblivious) Of course, when I say I've made up *all* the filling possibilities, I *am* exaggerating a little.

(Ted and Dougal exchange a glance.)

MRS DOYLE: There's no "peanut butter and pickle"... and no "marmalade and asparagus"... but I think I've covered everything else.

TED: Thank you, Mrs. Doyle.

(He gets an idea.)

TED: How would you like to take the rest of the afternoon off? I'm sure Dougal and I can 'hold down the fort'.

MRS DOYLE: What about Father Hackett?

TED: (glancing over at Jack's chair) I don't think he'll be any trouble. He's just drunk an entire bottle of Dougal's aeroplane glue. Last time he did that, he slept for three days.

MRS DOYLE: Ah, so. Well, if you're sure you'll be able to manage. (She pats her hair.) I wouldn't mind a quick haircut...

TED: We'll be fine. Take as *long* as you want.

MRS DOYLE: Now, do you want me to make you a pot of tea before I go?

TED: No thanks, Mrs. Doyle.

MRS DOYLE: Are you sure?

TED: Yes, I'm very sure. You go have a good time.

MRS DOYLE: Why, *thank you*, Father.

(She exits, and Ted and Dougal are finally left alone again - except, of course, for the unconscious Father Jack.)

TED: That should give us a couple of hours.

DOUGAL: What are we going to do, Ted?

TED: Well... I have a *few* ideas...

DOUGAL: What are they?

TED: Why don't I just show you?

DOUGAL: Sure. As long as we're finished by six.

TED: (frowning) Why's that?

DOUGAL: I don't want to miss 'Home and Away'. I think Alf's pregnant or something.

TED: (shaking his head) Come on, let's go upstairs.

(He takes Dougal's hand, and leads him from the room. The sound of footsteps on the staircase can be heard, followed by the creak and click of a door being pulled to. All remains still for a few minutes. Then:)

JACK: (waking from his stupor and looking around)

Drink!

(Drifting down from the top of the stairs can be heard a very unpriestlike selection of curses.)

~fin~
04-05-2002