Author: Gail
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Clark Palmer/Father Harry O'Rourke
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Father O'Rourke tries to help Clark Palmer find peace with God.
Archive: yes to Querstrich, RSA, CKOS, WWOMB. Anyone else, please ask.
Email: gem225@hotmail.com
Web Pages: http://members.freespeech.org/gem/work/main.html and
the Unholy Trinity, http://www.strangeplaces.net/trinity/main.htm
Disclaimer: The characters herein portrayed belong to Belisarius Productions and CBS, but boy, I don't think they'd like what I'm doing with them.
Warning: I portray a priest as subject to sexual desire. If this squicks you, please don't read it.
Spoilers: Miracles and Salvation
Summary of the relevant parts of Salvation: Rabb finds out that Palmer has had a religious conversion in Leavenworth and is now good friends with Sergeant Major Jarvis Krohn, whom Rabb wants cleared of the charge of attacking his wife. Palmer has a stroke and is thought to be dying, but recovers and claims to have had a vision sent by Chaplain Wiggins, whom Krohn served with in Vietnam, that will clear Krohn. Father O'Rourke, who is investigating the possibility of Chaplain Wiggins performing miracles, urges Rabb to do as Palmer wishes and take Palmer and Krohn to Baltimore, the scene of the crime. Rabb finally does, reluctantly, and Palmer is about to lead them all into a trap when Krohn has a vision of them being ambushed and all of them dying except for Krohn and Palmer and tells them not to go. Rabb then calls in the police, whom he's had waiting, and the DSD people who were waiting for them are caught. Krohn is exonerated, Palmer is exposed as a fraud, and Rabb gloats.
This is from Father O'Rourke's point of view, so that's why I'm going against my bent and capitalizing 'god' and all references to said supreme being. I mean no disrespect to the Roman Catholic Church or its priests. I'm sure they take their vows seriously. This is just a story.
Thanks to Scarlet, who thought of this pairing and kept sending me praise and ideas so I'd write it and beta'd; Elizabeth, who beta'd as well and gently helped me see what more it needed; and Tinnean, who cheered me on. They're all great friends.
Penance
by Gail
*****
"Thank you for seeing me, Father."
I smile at the man sitting across the table from me, thin, intense, and still pale from his coma that was supposed to end in death. God spared Clark Palmer for a reason, and I'm interested in finding out what that reason is. Jarvis Krohn prayed for him and believes in him, and I haven't seen anything yet to discredit him. Commander Rabb has his doubts, but that's not surprising. I don't think he's a believer in much more than a general Supreme Being, the law, and his own intelligence, but he's a good man. I know he has some history with Clark Palmer, but he'll do what he can for Jarvis Krohn.
"You said you needed spiritual guidance. I'm happy to provide it, Clark." He told me to call him by his first name when we met.
He smiles back at me. "You're very kind, Father." The smile goes, and he swallows. "Commander Rabb doesn't believe I've had a vision. I don't care what he thinks of me, but I don't want the Lord's work to be stopped because of that. Or is that the punishment that I have to take, that because of my past actions, my good friend Jarvis will have to serve more time for a crime he didn't commit? I know he didn't attack his wife. Jarvis would never do that. He loves her. He's talked to me about her. He's innocent, Father."
Clark's leaning forward, his hands reaching out to me, and I take them. They're strong hands, and they feel good in mine. I take a breath and remind myself that this is a man who's come to me for spiritual guidance. That's why we're in this small room, alone, no one watching.
"God wouldn't punish Jarvis for your sins, Clark, and you know He'll forgive you if you repent and do penance."
"I know that, Father." His head drops. "I have repented, but I don't know if I've done enough penance. I've done many bad things, Father. I hurt people. I killed them. And I enjoyed it. Not all of it, Father." His head comes back up, and I see those hazel eyes, bright with tears, find mine. "I know Commander Rabb thinks I did, but I didn't. I did my job. I'm sorry now I did, but I can't change my past. I can only go on and be a better man, the man God wants me to be all along."
I squeeze Clark's hands. "That's what God wants to hear, Clark. You believe that what you've done is more than He can forgive. I can give you more penance if you want, but you must let go of that arrogance."
He smiles, but then his smile twists. He's trying not to cry more. "Yes, Father. Thank you. I am arrogant. Just like Commander Rabb always said about me."
Commander Rabb certainly has had an effect on Clark Palmer. I wish he could see that and stop doubting Clark's sincerity. "Clark."
He blinks. "Yes, Father?"
"Let us pray together." I stand and bring him up with me. "God will show us the way to ease your heart."
"I pray he will," he murmurs.
I let go of his hands and kneel on the floor. Clark kneels down next to me, so close that his hip touches mine. I swallow and feel my cock stir. I wasn't born a priest, and it's hard sometimes to resist temptation.
I see that Clark's already got his eyes closed, so I decide to pray in silence, too.
We kneel there for a few Hail Marys, but the prayer isn't helping me. My cock gets harder from Clark beside me, the touch of his hip, the warmth of his body, the faint scent of male musk that gets stronger the longer we're there. I finish a prayer and think about opening my eyes and rising, but I don't. I'm here to help Clark. God will help me resist, as He always has. Around some men, I have trouble with desire, and He knows that.
Clark groans then and bows his head all the way to the floor. I turn and reach for him, bringing him up to face me. I don't know what's hurt him, but I want to help. It's my job to help, to ease people's pain with the blessing of God's favor and forgiveness.
His face is flushed. "Father, no," he groans.
"What is it, Clark?" I tighten my hands on his arms, and he groans again.
"I..." He shudders and closes his eyes. I hold onto him. He shudders again and opens them. "Father, please help me." His voice is strained.
"Yes, Clark. I'll help you."
He breathes in silence for a minute, and I watch him. He's in a great deal of pain, and I don't think it's physical. I think it's spiritual.
"Would you please sit at the table?"
"All right, Clark." I stand, but he stays on the floor. I don't understand. I stop and look at him.
"Please, Father," he whispers. "I know what I need. I've been shown. Now let me show you."
I'm not sure what he means, but I can tell he does need it. It can't be so bad, I tell myself. He's a sinner, but a repentant one, and we're all sinners. He sounds like he had another vision. I walk over to the near chair and sit, hearing Clark shuffle over behind me. He's still on his knees, I realize, and my cock gets harder. I wish I wasn't aroused by the thought of Clark on his knees, but I am. When I think of men sexually, which happens more often than I like, I want them on their knees to me. But Clark doesn't know that.
"Please turn the chair to face me, Father." His voice is a little calmer now. I do what he asks and see him smile at me. "Thank you." His hands are clasped at his waist, but now he unlocks them and reaches up to put one on each of my thighs. "May the Lord bless my actions and know my sincere repentance."
His fingers stroke my thigh up to my crotch, and I jump. "Clark. No."
"I've been shown the way to forgiveness, Father. Surely you won't deny me that?"
"No, but Clark, I'm a priest." A priest who's hard and wants more than anything to stop talking and let this man do what he wants.
"Yes, Father. That's why I was shown now. Because God wants me to show him, through you, how sincerely I repent my sins. Show him through the instruments of our bodies, the temples of our souls. Father, you're the Lord's anointed." His fingers are running over my crotch, and I know he can feel how hard I am. "Let His will be done through you."
His voice rings through me, and I can't resist any more. I don't want to resist. I'm staring into his eyes, feeling his touch, hearing his voice, hearing more than his voice. Am I hearing God's voice through Clark Palmer? He chooses His own instruments, and He's already chosen Clark for one vision. Yes, that could be it. I blink and see a light around Clark. The visible sign of God's grace? Of His presence?
"Trust this, Father. Trust what He tells me to do."
Yes. I wet my lips. "May His will be done."
His eyes glow at that, and his fingers come up to undo my pants and take out my cock. "Trust what He tells you to do, too." His thumb strokes the head as his fingers tighten around the shaft, and I moan. "First my hands. I've done much evil with my hands."
"Yes, Clark." I know he wants my approval, and I give it to him.
He works my cock first with his right hand, then his left, fisting it, caressing the shaft and balls, even running his fingers through my pubic hair. I let him do what he wants. This is his need, his vision. I have to help him.
"Father, are my hands pleasing you?" His eyes are so earnest and vulnerable. "Please. I have to know."
His fingers stroke across a sensitive spot under the head of my cock, and all I can do is moan. He's still looking at me, and I manage to speak. "Yes, Clark. Your hands are pleasing me."
His eyes glow again at that. "Thank you. Now my mouth. I've lied and hurt people with my mouth, Father. I need you to purify it."
I can hardly breathe. He's going to take my cock in his mouth and suck on it.
He bends his head over my crotch. "I need you to make me know how wrong I was. Please make me feel God's anger at my evil." He breathes on my cock, and it jumps.
I'm not sure what he means, but somehow I know I'll know when I need to. I want his mouth. "Hurry up."
He answers by plunging his mouth over my cock, and I moan. His mouth is hot, hotter than any woman or man who's sucked me, and I have an image of the Devil on his knees for me. I moan again at that. No, Clark isn't the Devil. He's a man who's following God's will as best he can. And I'm helping him do that. I hope I am.
I rest my hands in his hair as he sucks, then I thrust up into his mouth, hard, again and again, and he takes it without any protest. This was what he meant about making him feel God's anger. I stop when I feel my cock pulse and my balls tighten. I shouldn't come yet. I know that.
I pull on Clark's hair. "Stop."
He immediately does what I say, releasing my cock and sitting back on his heels. "Yes, Father." His eyes are turned up to mine. "What do you want from me?"
What do I want, he asked, not what God wants. But I'm Clark's link to God now. I can feel it. My cock is throbbing, and I take it in my hand and squeeze to keep myself from coming. Soon, I promise myself. I stare at him. His face is flushed, his lips are wet, and I know he has to be hard.
"Just tell me." Clark's voice has a desperate note to it that makes me realize I've been looking too long.
I smile at him and take his head between my hands. "Is this part of your vision?"
"Yes, Father. It is. Let me finish."
I nod, and he leans forward to take my cock in his hot mouth again. He sucks, and I thrust. Soon the throbbing is back, and this time I don't fight it; I let myself go and come in Clark's mouth.
He swallows and swallows and swallows again, then draws off his mouth.
"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I say that you are God's child, and His holy grace has entered into you and made you free from sin." The words come to me.
"Thank you, Father." He closes his eyes, then opens them again, and I see peace. He stands. "I feel as though He's forgiven me."
I get my pants done up and stand, too. "Bless you, my son." I wet my lips and reach for him. "Let me do something for you." I want to.
He evades my grasp. "No. That wasn't in the vision."
I've gone along with him this far; I need to keep doing so. I nod, and he smiles.
"I hope we can talk again," he says with shining eyes.
"Whatever I can do."
I turn and call the guard to let us out. It's time to go to Baltimore and see where Chaplain Wiggins sends us next.
*****
It was all a trick. All of Clark's visions, all of Clark's faith. All a way to get him out of Leavenworth and to his friends. He almost led us into a trap. If Jarvis hadn't gotten a vision from Chaplain Wiggins, we all might be dead. Jarvis told me how his vision went, and it made me shudder and thank God for our deliverance. But Clark doesn't care. I can see that. Even though his plan failed and he's in this cell in Quantico, he's still laughing.
"Ah, Father, you're such a good shepherd to your flock." He leans against the wall. "So helpful and gullible."
"You're going back to Leavenworth, Clark." I want to hurt him. I want to put a fist through his face, but that won't satisfy anything but my anger. I'm not going to give in to that emotion. I shouldn't have given in to my desire.
"If one more thing had gone right, I'd be free right now. Fucking Rabb." There's a sneer on his face. "He's a pain in the ass. Thought I was going to be rid of him at last. Still, it was worth it. Worth every minute of it." His eyes find mine, and I see the Clark Palmer I spoke with in that small room. "'Bless you, my son,' you said. 'Whatever I can do.' Will you do what I ask now, Father? Will you bring me back to God?" He breaks into laughter again. "I think you would, as long as I had that same vision. It was so much fun playing you, Father. Thanks."
That was all that was to him: amusement. Seeing if he could. But there was more to it than that, even if he doesn't know it. I wanted to know why he was sent back from death, and now I know. He was a test sent to me from God, a test that I must have failed.
I turn away from him, but I can't turn away from what I did.
"You're in luck, Father. I'm not interested in telling everyone how *you* fell into sin." He's whispering now, a small, mocking smile on his face. "I'll treasure the memory, as I'm sure you will. Think of me when you're safe in your room, Father, safe in your life. Think of me on my knees in front of you, and remember how good my mouth felt on your cock. Live the rest of your life knowing you'll never have me again. Maybe you'll get lucky and find someone else you can con into it. Why don't you start looking? You're an attractive man. I'm sure you could find someone. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
I swallow and feel my cock jump. I will not sin that way again. "You'll spend the rest of your life in jail."
"I'll get out. No need to worry about me. But I'd be grateful for your prayers."
I see his face twist into laughter again, and I decide to leave.
"Don't forget to pray for me, Father!" he calls after me.
I get to the door, go through it when the guard opens it, and hear it shut behind me. Clark Palmer will go back to Leavenworth. I will go to wherever the Church sends me. Once I leave here, I'll never see him again.
And, with God's grace, someday I will forget how it felt to have him kneel in front of me and suck my cock with the skill of the Devil, and someday I hope to stop wanting it.
The End