Title: Confessions and Confusion

Author: JaimeBlue

Archive: Yes

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Tim/Ben

Series: 2nd in "The Secret Confessions of Tim O'Neill"

Disclaimer: The seaQuest and it's crew don't belong to me, but to Amblin Entertainment and NBC, and whoever else owns part of them. Father Duncan, however, is all mine :)

Summary: A newpaper article revives a memory from Father Duncan's past with Tim O'Neill.

FYI: The following is necessary in understanding how the story is laid out. 5 stars (*****) separates the original time period from the priest's memories. 10 #'s (##########) separates the priest's memories from the events about which Tim confesses. 3 stars (***) are used to begin and end the story. * on either side of a word denotes emphasis.



TO THEE I CONFESS MY SINS 2: CONFESSIONS AND CONFUSION
by JaimeBlue
***

Father Duncan walked along the Cape Quest beach, breathing deeply of the salty air. Looking around to make certain there was nobody else around, he slid his aging feet out of his sandals, hiked up his black pants, and slowly walked into the surf. He closed his eyes as he felt the water swish between his toes, listening to the gulls crying overhead.

It was moments such as these when Father Duncan felt closest to God. If he listened carefully, he could almost hear the answers to life's most important questions being carried on the whispering waves.

The old priest's blue eyes flew open at the sound of a dog barking a short distance away. He made his way back to the beach, slipped his feet back into his shoes, and walked over to the boardwalk. Carefully sitting on a bench so as not to disturb the muscles in his back, he watched as a family of three ran on the beach, closely followed by a German Shepherd.

He heard a flapping beside him and saw someone had left their newspaper on the bench. With a smile, Father Duncan picked up the paper, having forgotten to read his own that morning, and began reading the articles.

His eyebrow quirked up as he spotted an article about the seaQuest. Apparently, the submarine had encountered a group of refugees on an iceberg near the African coast, and had saved the people before they'd destroyed the object. The article went on to say that there had been some trouble in getting one of the refugees to leave the iceberg, a Benjamin Krieg...

Father Duncan squinted as he tried to place the name that sounded so familiar. All of a sudden, the memory came back to him and he couldn't help but laugh. Tim had often spoken about the man at great length, complaining about his dishonest ways and asking for advice on how to deal with the conman. However, there was the one time when Tim had told quite a different tale about his vessel's ‘morale officer.'

*****

Father Duncan smiled as he spoke the last words of his sermon, hearing them echo against the walls of St. Agnes' Church. He could see smiles on the faces of some of his parishioners and felt a sense of satisfaction at the thought that his words had helped some of them.

He stood at the doorway, greeting those who wished to congratulate him on his sermon and blessing the rosary beads of a young woman who'd just started attending his masses. Once they had all left the church, he turned back to the nearly empty room, occupied only by those lighting candles and kneeling by the altars of Jesus and Mary. He saw one of the figures by Mary's altar stand, and he smiled as he recognized the man he hadn't seen in weeks.

"Tim, it is good to see you again, child."

"Father Duncan," the man said, smiling as he reached out a hand to the priest who held it between both of his own. "It's nice to be able to come to mass again. Your sermon was very lovely."

"Thank you, my son." The priest's head tilted as he let go of Tim's hand. There was something not quite right about the expression in the man's eyes. He caught them straying to the confessional and nodded to himself. "Is there something you wish to speak to me about?"

"Yes, that is, if you're not busy or..."

"I have all the time in the world for one of God's children." He led the way to the confession booth, settling down and sliding the window open, waiting for Tim to begin.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been 4 weeks since my last confession. Father, I'm consumed by a hatred... Well, maybe not a hatred but a loathing... Well, more like a severe dislike of somebody right now. Either way, I seriously doubt I'm ever going to help anybody ever again."

"What happened, my son?"

"Well, Father, do you remember that ‘crewmate'," Father Duncan's eyes widened at the distaste put into the single word, "I told you about, Ben Krieg? Well, he's totally crossed the line this time."

"Calm down my son. Now, tell me what your crewmate did to anger you so."

"Well, somehow he managed to convince me to go ashore with him a short ways outside New York City. He said he needed help getting a few ‘supplies' for the ship. Idiot that I am, I believed him when he said this time it was all legitimate. Well, suffice it to say he was dealing in the very dark gray areas.

"Anyway, to make a long story short, there we were, tied up and stuffed in the back of some mafia boss' car..."

##########

"Wow! This is really nice stuff!"

"What stuff, Ben?"

"The upholstery. You've really gotta love rich people, Tim. Even if the money's dirty, they still live in style."

"We're in the trunk of a car, Ben."

"I know, and the material's just as nice as on the inside I bet! Now that's class!"

Tim thumped his head back onto the floor of the trunk, shaking it and wishing Ben could see him roll his eyes. It was so dark, he could barely make out his tied hands when he held them up before his face.

"Remind me again why being stuck in here with you *isn't* a bad thing?"

"Because I'm such good company."

"Try again."

"Because I have such an optimistic outlook on life."

"Not quite."

"Because when those goons searched us, they missed one of my little toys."

Tim shoved his elbow into Ben's side. "Why didn't you say anything sooner? Let's get out of here."

"I didn't say anything because I needed to know whether or not there was anyone out there. If we get out of here and they see us, we're as good as dead. As I see it, we're pretty lucky they haven't killed us yet."

"And who's fault is that?"

"Hey, like I told you the first time, those containers were full of rare coral the last time I checked them. How was I to know someone had switched them for containers full of those glowing rocks we found?"

"You mean the s..."

"Don't even say it, if you value your life."

"Well, maybe God decided to give me a break this time, even if it means having to help you too."

"Tim, that really hurts, you know that?"

"Yeah, well, good. Now, get us out of here."

"Umm, well, there's a slight problem."

"Of course. There's always a problem with you, isn't there. All right, Ben, what's the problem."

"Well, if that's your attitude, we can always just stay here until those guys come back for us."

Tim took a deep breath. "All right, Ben. I'm sorry. Now, what's the problem."

"Well, it's the reason the goons didn't find my lock-pick."

Tim had the feeling he wasn't going to like where this conversation was heading. "Where did you hide it, Ben?"

"It's in a kind of... uncomfortable place."

If Tim's hands had been loose, he would have smacked his forehead. "Well, can't you..."

"I don't think so, Tim. You're gonna have to help me."

Tim sighed, wondering how he ended up in these kinds of situations. He listened as Ben rolled onto his side. Taking a deep breath, Tim moved closer to Ben's back. He felt his way down until he reached the waistband of the jeans Ben had decided to wear that day. He tried to slip his hand under the material, but it was too tight.

"Ben, I can't get my hand in."

"Damn it! Wait a sec." There was a clicking sound, a sliding sound, and finally the sound of a zipper. "There. That should do."

Tim slid his hand into the loosened jeans and the underwear underneath. As his hand met Ben's bare skin, both men froze, the tension thick in the air.

"Umm, Ben," Tim said, trying to lighten the mood, "tell me again why you have a lock-pick here."

"Well, this may surprise you, but this isn't the first time something like this has happened to me."

"You don't say?" His fingers slid along the skin of Ben's buttocks into the crease. He let out a victorious sound when his fingers touched warm metal, and he sent out a prayer of thanks that Ben hadn't decided on a more ‘secure' location. He grabbed onto the object and slowly pulled it out of its niche, then moved back to give Ben room to roll onto his back.

"Thanks," Ben mumbled as his hands fumbled to find Tim's.

"Anytime," Tim answered as Ben's hands found his, and he transferred the lock-pick to them.

"Umm, Tim, I'm gonna have to get to your side if I'm to use this thing."

"All right." Tim waited, but Ben did nothing. "I think we're a little past shy, Ben. Just roll over me."

"Okay."

Ben started rolling and for a moment, he was laying full-length over Tim, who was desperately trying to think of some other explanation for the hard object pressing into his stomach. Finally, Ben slid off him and started working on the trunk door. After a few moments, Tim heard a click, followed by the sound of the trunk door being lifted. He turned, looking at the sky for the first time in hours. With all the time he'd spent on seaQuest, seeing the sky had never been much of an issue. However, after several hours in a car trunk with Ben, it was heaven, though be it a starry heaven.

A hand shook Tim's arm, breaking him out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw Ben, who thankfully had already done up his jeans.

"Tim, pass me your hands." Tim lifted his hands and Ben used the lock-pick to saw through the ropes. "Okay, I think we're safe for now."

"Hey!" a voice shouted from the distance. "How'd they get out?!"

"Oh shit!" Ben grabbed Tim's arm and started dragging him down the street ahead of them.

"We're safe, eh Ben?"

"Oh, shut up."

As they ran, they didn't have to look behind them to know they were being followed. They could hear the footsteps gradually catching up to them. Ben took a turn into an alley and pulled Tim along with him. He found an alcove and both men hid in it. They listened as the men who were following them turned into the alley and passed right by them. Ben led Tim out and, spotting a door, dragged him through it.

The two men rested against the door, panting and praying the men wouldn't figure out they come in this way. Tim was the first to catch his breath and when he looked around the room they found themselves in, it caught in his throat.

"Umm, Ben," he squeaked. "What kind of place did you drag me into?"

"I don't know. All I know is it should be safer than what's waiting for us out there..." Ben trailed off as he got his first glimpse of the room.

With their hearts practically beating in their ears, they hadn't noticed the loud dance music. They noticed now, as well as the many couples dancing to the music. And neither man failed to notice that there wasn't a single woman in the room.

A sudden pounding on the door behind them warned them they weren't quite safe. Ben grabbed Tim's arm once again and dragged him through the couples on the dance floor. About half-way through the crowd, Tim jumped.

"What is it?" Ben looked back to see Tim rubbing his backside, glaring daggers at a man wearing skin-tight gold pants. "He's mine!" Ben said as he dragged Tim away from the man who was now holding his hands up in an appeasing manner.

"Umm, thanks," Tim mumbled just loud enough for Ben to hear.

"Anytime."

They were startled when they passed two couples only to come face-to-face with a wall.

"Ben, what are we going to do now?" Tim worriedly looked back and saw a couple of men frantically trying to break through the dancers.

The last thing Tim expected was to be pushed back against the wall and kissed within an inch of his life, but nevertheless, that's what Ben did. As Ben's lips moved against his, Tim lost all sense of what was going on around him. Luckily for them, their pursuers passed right by them.

When they finally broke apart, both men were panting, and both were very, very hard. They looked at each other with glazed eyes and their lips moved towards each other again.

"Hey!" a voice yelled from somewhere around them. "Not that I mind the show, but why don't you two get a room!"

Ben turned and glared at the man who had spoken, then pulled a weak-kneed Tim back to the door they'd used to enter the club. Ben looked around quickly, ensuring their pursuers were no longer around the alley, then pushed Tim up against the brick wall.

As their lips collided, Tim's hands went to Ben's belt, undoing it and his jeans as quickly as his hands could manage. He slid his hand down the front of Ben's shorts, savouring the shudder that ran through Ben's body. Not to be outdone, Ben started undoing the fastenings of Tim's slacks, sliding his own hand under Tim's shorts. As Tim gasped, Ben's tongue moved to explore his mouth.

Their lips locked, both men's stroking of the other sped up, matching each other's rhythm. Tim's lips broke away from Ben's as he gasped for air, shuddering as he came into Ben's hand. A few short strokes of Tim's hand later and Ben followed, coming in his shorts.

The men rested for several moments, Ben against Tim and Tim against the wall, as they caught their breath. Once they were somewhat composed, they pulled away from the wall and each other, straightening out their clothing, Ben running his hand over his shorts to clean it.

"We've, ah, got to get back to the boat," Tim said unnecessarily.

"Yeah. There's got to be some kind of public commlink or something around here."

Cautiously, they left the relative safety of the alley, trying to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. They found one within minutes and placed a call to the seaQuest. After Ben, at Tim's insistence, had explained to the Captain about their kidnaping, Bridger had insisted on sending Chief Crocker and a security team to fetch them. Ben had tried to say they didn't need the security, but it was impossible to argue with Bridger's concerned gaze.

The two men waited almost patiently for the crewmen to come for them, when finally a vehicle pulled up with familiar faces inside. Both men were quiet on the ride back to seaQuest, all the while still acting as if nothing strange had happened.

##########

"I can see why you would be upset, my son. Being kidnaped is far from a pleasant experience."

"Umm, well, Father, that I could have forgiven."

"And the, ah, indiscretions at the club?"

"Yes, Father, that as well."

"Then what is it that enrages you so, my son?"

"Well, after we returned to the boat, we spoke with the Captain about what had happened, and then we were examined by Dr. Westphalen. They concluded we were relatively okay despite the experience, and if they though otherwise they didn't let us know. Anyway, a few days later, Ben has the gall to come to my quarters, sweet talk me, and expects me to double his comm time! I tell you, Father, I'm not that easy!"

"Did he make any advances in exchange for the favour?"

"Umm, no. Why would he do that?" Tim sounded confused. "Oh, you mean after what happened. Oh no! That was just a natural reaction to our situation, and things are pretty much back to normal between us."

"Oh." For a moment, Father Duncan didn't know what to say. "Well, my son, forgiveness is the true path to freedom. Once you learn to forgive him his transgression," whichever you choose to address, he said to himself, "then you can learn to forgive your own. I think three Hail Marys should suffice."

"Thank you, Father. With any luck, I will be able to attend mass in four weeks time."

Father Duncan listened as Tim left the confessional, then sat in dumbfounded silence.

*****

The old priest giggled to himself, remembering how confused Tim had left him. Very few people could dumbfound him like Tim could. It was one of the many qualities that kept the man dear to Father Duncan's heart.

He was snapped out of his memories as a beach ball flew into his newspaper. He picked up the object, holding it out for the young child running up the beach to retrieve it.

"It this yours, my child?"

"Yes, sir," the little girl answered. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He watched the girl return to her parents' side, then rose from his bench. With a final look out to sea, Father Duncan headed back to St. Agnes' Church.



***
END