Title Confessions From a Glass of Vodka

Author: JaimeBlue

Author's Note: Yep, it's yet another Confession (How could I not continue after all the wonderful feedback -- thanks all!). All I can say is, don't judge a book by its cover -- or a story by what you think the pairing will be *evil leer*.

Oh, and I've inserted a pun which might send some of you running and screaming (should you catch it), so CB and Joey -- I'm prepared for my pun-ishment :) Oh, and thanks to Joey for, in her own strange way, inspiring a certain twist in this story that helped me stay away from soemthing I didn't really want to do -- both for my and Tim's moral reasons :)

As usual, *** starts and finishes the story, ***** divides 'present' Father Duncan from 'past' Father Duncan, and ########## seperates 'past' Father Duncan from Tim's memories.

Now, on to the story! Enjoy!

Fandom: seaQuest (duh!)

Pairing: Tim/M

Archive: Yes

Series: 3rd of "The Secret Confessions of Tim O'Neill"

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, yadda yadda yadda

Summary: Father Duncan remembers the tale of a very drunk Tim O'Neill.



TO THEE I CONFESS MY SINS 3: CONFESSIONS FROM A GLASS OF VODKA
by JaimeBlue
***

"And by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Father Duncan grinned as the newly married couple before him came together in a lingering kiss. He so enjoyed seeing the joining of people who truly loved each other. The couple's family and friends stood and applauded the union, then watched as the two people walked down the aisle, hand in hand.

As the crowd began making its way out of the church, the priest's eyes rested on the father of the bride, who was desperately trying to hide the tears in his eyes from his loving wife. The man, despite his tears, looked overjoyed that his daughter had found such happiness with a man who truly loved her.

Father Duncan remembered when the young woman, Mandy, and her fiancee had spoken with him prior to the wedding. They had each come to him in the confessional, and Mandy had confessed of her difficulties with her father. She and her fiancee had attended mass at St. Agnes' since they had become engaged, and Mandy had feared what her seemingly less-than- religious father might say should she reveal her newfound devotion to her husband-to-be's religion. She had been shocked at his acceptance of the direction in which she was headed. She had been confused, eventually accepting her father's strange behaviour rather than driving herself insane trying to explain it.

Father Duncan, however, knew of an explanation. The teary-eyed man before him was one of many friends his old parishioner, Tim O'Neill, had spoken of fondly. Though the two men hadn't been very close, there had been a mutual respect between them.

Particularly in light of one night of overindulgence.

*****

"...and that's how it happened, Father."

"My child, you have but learned one of many lessons to learn in life. Say three Hail Marys, and be more careful next time."

Father Duncan nodded to himself as the young woman crossed herself, then left the tiny cubicle. He waited patiently as he heard the next parishioner arrive, then he slid the window open once more.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession."

The priest smiled, recognizing the voice of one of his favourite parishioners. He didn't speak the man's name, for such things had no place in the privacy of the confessional. "I am listening, my son."

"Father, there was an... incident. Recently, I became inebriated. I... I've finally been able to remember everything that happened, but I'm afraid I came very close to breaking one of God's Commandments. I stopped myself before doing more than just thinking about it, thank God, but instead, I... well, I acted rather foolishly."

"My child, if you were inebriated, were not your thoughts somewhat impaired?"

The man sighed. "I don't know."

"Why don't you tell me what happened."

##########

"Partons, la mer est belle
Embarquons nous pecheurs
Guidons notre nacelle
Marquons avec ardeur..."

"Lieutenant?!"

"Aux mats hissons les vagues
Le ciel est pur et beau..."

"Tim!"

"Je vois briller l'etoile
Qui guide les matelots!"

The singing man was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He smiled lopsidedly at the hand, oblivious to the looks thrown his way by the patrons of the bar he was currently sitting in.

"Bonjour. Qu'est-ce qu'une main comme toi fait dans un bar comme
cel-ci?" [Hello. What's a hand like you doing in a bar like this?]

"Tim, are you okay?"

The man giggled then looked up at the hand's owner, slamming the glass full of vodka in his hand onto the top of the bar as he recognized the man standing behind him.

"Chief! Have a drink, on me."

"No, Tim. I'm not very thirsty right now. And I think you've had one too many yourself."

"Who told you that? Come on, Crocker, don't be such a hardass." Tim grabbed onto an over- turned shot glass with an unsteady hand, flipped it onto its end, and filled it to the brim with some clear liquid from the bottle in front of him. "Have a drink."

"No. It's time to go, Lieutenant."

"No."

The bearded man's eyes widened. "The Captain is worried about you, has been since you didn't report back from your leave."

"Fuck him."

"Okay, that's it Lieutenant. You're coming back with me or else."

"Or else what?"

The two men's eyes locked with grim determination, neither one ready to back down.

"Or else I'll bust your ass so hard you won't be able to sit straight in your comm seat for a week."

Tim raised an eye, not believing the Chief's threat. He reached onto the bar top, grabbed his drink, and downed it in one swallow, slamming the empty glass back down. Tim closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the liquid to burn down his throat

Tim's eyes popped back open as he felt himself lifted from his stool and slung over a broad shoulder.

"Hey! What the fuck are you doing?"

"Taking you back to the boat."

The commtech was so angry, and drunk, that he didn't hear the cheers coming from the bar as he was carried out. He tried fighting, pounding his fists on the Chief's back, but the man wouldn't let go. After several moments, the motion of bouncing on Crocker's shoulder made him dizzy, and with a final moan, he passed out.

Tim started coming to as he felt himself sliding off Crocker's shoulder and onto a hard mattress. His blurry eyes looked around him, and he realized he was in his own room.

"Get some rest," the Chief advised. "The Captain will want to speak with you in the morning."

"Fuck him. And Fuck you. Who the fuck do you people think I am — Lucas? I'm a fucking grown-up, in case you haven't noticed."

"Well, tonight you sure haven't been acting like one."

"I was fine until you came along and ruined my night."

"Yeah, you looked like you were having so much fun singing to yourself, Lieutenant."

"Like you would know. I had every right to be sitting there, drinking whatever the hell I felt like having. I put up with people's shit day in, day out, with a smile on my face, and when I decide to take some time to get a little shit-faced myself, you drag me away like a fucking child!"

"Why do you think I went after you, Tim? Not just the Captain, but everyone was worried about you. If it weren't for Ensign Gomez having spotted you going into that part of town, I may never have found you. What the hell were you thinking, going out there alone like that?"

"I wanted to be alone! The last thing I need right now is someone who's just going to take advantage of my stupidity, which everyone calls generosity, and have me so busy helping them solve their problems, I can't even take a moment to figure out my own."

Crocker stood uncomfortably before the drunken man. "Lieutenant... umm, Tim... it you need to talk, I'm here."

"Forget it. I'm going to sleep."

Still fully clothed, Tim rolled onto the bunk so that he was facing the wall. Crocker sighed, then turned to the door, stopping a moment as he heard an unmistakable sound coming from the bunk. Tim was crying.

The security chief turned around and slowly sat on the edge behind the shaking commtech. He hesitatingly laid a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Are you okay, Lieutenant?"

"I'm fine," the muffled voice answered. "Just go. Leave me alone."

Crocker moved his hand to rub circles on the sobbing man's back. After a while, Tim's body stopped shaking. The chief smoothed over the seemingly sleeping man's hair.

"Get some rest kid. You're gonna need it in the morning." Crocker rose from the bed and started for the door, stopping only when he heard a whisper coming from the bed.

"Don't go."

"Did you say something, Lieutenant?"

"I'm sorry. You were right," the commtech said, never turning from his position facing the wall. "I don't want to be alone right now. Will you stay with me? Until I fall asleep?"

"Tim..."

"Please?"

Crocker sighed, but nevertheless moved back over to sit on the edge of Tim's bunk. "You know, you really should get some sleep, Lieutenant."

"Well, maybe if you just talk a little, about anything you want, I'll fall asleep."

Crocker sighed. "All right. Let's see... Well, while you were gone, Lucas was running around the ship looking like he'd won the lottery. Seems he'd finished this program he's been working on for weeks. He was looking for you, wanting to tell you all about it. He looks up to you, you know. You're one of the few on the ship he can actually talk to about all that computer stuff he does.

"Oh, and Krieg was complaining about how, somehow, Lucas had roped him into helping him put together some new computer components he just got in. I seriously have no idea why he'd have asked Ben, unless he had something to hold over his head. I swear, I'd love to see that kid get the best of him. Anyway, as I was saying, I can't see Krieg being any help at all. I know he helped you and Ortiz with the Stinger a while back, so I guess in his own way he's pretty handy..."

Tim bit back a groan. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was conscious of the stages he tended to pass through the few times he drank as he'd done that night, and the Chief's words and the memories they aroused had sparked a certain phase. Tim thanked God he was facing away from the Chief as he felt his face flush as the blood in his body began pooling in his twitching cock.

"...but I wouldn't trust him with anything of mine. Nothing at all like the Commander. Now there's a man I could trust with my life, though he could stand to loosen up a bit. Every time I pass through the halls, hearing some Ensigns talking about how Commander Ford ploughed into them for some little mistake they'd made..."

Tim buried a groan in his pillow. All of a sudden, he was conscious of the warmth of the man sitting next to him on the bed. *Stop this,* he told himself. *The man's married! I don't give a damn how horny you are, you're not breaking any Commandments tonight!*

"Umm, Chief, you know what?" Tim squeaked. "I don't think this is helping. Why don't I try to get to sleep on my own, okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah," Tim groaned. "I mean, yes sir."

Crocker rose from the bed with a shake of his head. Just as he was about to walk through the open door, Tim called out to him.

"Umm, could you please close the light while you're up? Thanks."

With a final shake of his head, Crocker shut off the light and closed the door behind him.

Tim quickly pulled off his clothes, relieved to finally wrap one hand around his straining cock. With his free hand, he grabbed his glasses and threw them onto the table next to his bunk. He pumped himself, briefly wishing he hadn't drunken so much vodka. The drink tended to dull ALL of his reactions, and it could take him some time to attain the relief he so desperately needed.

He moaned, his hand pulling at his foreskin, allowing his thumb to rub up over the head. One of his few working braincells was conscious of a sound in the room, but was immediately told to shut up by its fellows. He writhed, praying that soon his hand could wrench an orgasm from this stubborn body of his.

"Tim?"

As he heard the voice next to his bed, Tim's desperation reached its peak. He reached over, grabbing onto the hips of whoever'd wandered into his quarters, and pulled the person under him on the bunk. He ran his hand up the person's sides, finally brushing up against a furry cheek. His lips followed his hand until they locked onto another pair that responded to him immediately. His hands explored the long and muscular body below him, pulling away whatever clothes he found. His thumbs brushed up against two small pebbled nipples and he felt the man's body shiver.

Once his hand found an aching cock, his mouth left its mate and moved downward. The moment he'd arrived at his destination, a very hungry Tim swallowed the cock whole.

"Oh God, Tim!"

To his relief, Tim felt his own cock stroked and licked as he ran his tongue along the ridges of the one in his mouth. With one hand, Tim gripped the base of the cock before him as he started sucking, his fingers trailing to the other man's firm ass, gently rubbing against the puckered hole. His finger finally found its way into the passage, searching until it finally brushed up against the spot that made the hips below him push the cock deeper into his hungry mouth.

Tim felt suction on his own cock and continued stroking the man beneath him. Within moments, the cock in his mouth came in hot spurts, followed shortly by his own orgasm.

As Tim's boneless body slid off the man beneath him, he managed to crawl up the bed until his head finally rested on his pillow. He felt the bunk shift, then the lips of his lover brushing up against his own. He lifted a hand, wrapping his hands in the long, silky hair they found. His eyes shot open, blind in the dark room, as reality sunk in.

"Umm," Tim stuttered, breaking the kiss. "D-d-d-d-d-d-doctor Levin. Oh. Um. I mean..."

"You know, Tim," the deep voice replied, "I usually prefer the light." The lips brushed against Tim's once again. "But I can definitely see the appeal of the dark. Get some sleep, Tim."

Tim allowed his eyes to close, comforted by the hand stoking along his side. As he felt himself slipping away from consciousness, he heard Dr. Levin talking to himself.

"I'm really going to have to thank Crocker in the morning. I should definitely do more house calls."

##########

"...and in the morning, he was gone. For a while I wondered whether or not I'd dreamed the whole thing, but when I went for my physical a week or two later, the smile he gave me left no doubt that it had actually happened.."

"Well, my son, there is always a price to be paid for overindulgence."

"Boy, do I know it. No matter how... enjoyable the rest of the night was, I'm never touching another glass of vodka again."

"I think you've learned your lesson, my son. However, saying three Hail Marys could do you no harm."

"Thank you, Father."

Father Duncan smiled as the man left the confessional. Hearing the curtain rustle again, he steeled himself for yet another confession.

*****

The father of the bride and his wife started following the crowd out of the church, but were stopped by the priest's voice.

"Pardon me, Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"Your daughter mentioned you had served aboard the seaQuest. I was wondering if you had heard from any of the crew that had returned."

"I'm sorry, I have not. As soon as they returned, they were sent out to join the war efforts. I haven't been able to get a message through for a couple of weeks."

"Ah. Well, thank you anyway, Doctor."

"Did you know any of the crew... Father?" the man said, unused to using the priest's title.

"As a matter of fact, I did. St. Agnes' hasn't been the same without Mr. O'Neill's occasional visits."

The man's lips lifted into a shy smile as he nodded. "He was certainly a memorable man. Good day, Father."

"Good day, Doctor."

Smiling, Father Duncan watched the couple walk away before turning back to his church. He headed for his personal apartment to fetch a bite to eat before preparing for the next wedding he'd have to perform that day.



***
end