Title: I Must Confess, You're Not The One

Author: JaimeBlue

Fandom: seaQuest

Archive: Yes!

Series: 5th - The Secret Confessions of Tim O'Neill

Pairing: Tim/Tony

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, have never belonged to me, and probably never will belong to me. This is only untrue when I'm in the world of dreams.

Summary: An aggravating encounter brings Father Duncan's thoughts back to his old friend, Tim O'Neill.



TO THEE I CONFESS MY SINS 5: I MUST CONFESS, YOU'RE NOT THE ONE
By JaimeBlue
***

*Lord, give me strength.*

"...and furthermore, this apparent disregard for all of God's laws cannot go unpunished. But for that to happen, we must act now. The Catholic Church has been too lax in confronting this threat to all that is good and pure. Now Father, what are you going to do about these heathens?"

"Do about what, Mister Lawrence? Thus far, you have not proven to me that there is any threat."

"Father, how can you be so blind? All of these mutants and clones, scientists tampering with God's work in the most inhumane ways possible. How can you not see the danger of these people tampering with nature?"

Father Duncan sighed. "Mister Lawrence, have you ever met any of these ‘heathens' as you are so fond of calling them? Have you had any contact with them other than reading a story on the Internex? These are not soulless beings, but are just as human as you or I. They have feelings of love and hate as you and I do." The priest shook his head at the look of disgust on the face of the man sitting across his desk. "Now Mister Lawrence, I would like to ask you to leave my church until the spirit of God's love has taught you tolerance and acceptance. Goodbye, Sir."

He watched as the man rose from his seat and stalked out of the office. He leaned back into his chair, ashamed to admit he was glad the man was no longer in his presence. It was people such as Mister Lawrence, not the ‘heathens' about which he spoke, that caused Father Duncan to despair about humanity.

The old priest thought back to the one time he'd been given the honour of meeting one of those ‘heathens'. He couldn't imagine how such a kind and gentle soul could be thought of as a threat. That had been an interesting day...

*****

"Everybody rise and pray with me.

Our Father who art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven
Give us this day our daily bread..."

Father Duncan heard an unrest spread through the crowd, but continued the prayer nevertheless.

"...And forgive us our trespasses
As we forgive those who trespass against us
Lead us not into temptation
But deliver us from evil
Amen."

As the last word came out of his mouth, Father Duncan realized he was the only one in the room still speaking the Our Father. He looked around for the source of the disturbance and his eyes rested on his friend, Tim O'Neill, who had just entered St. Agnes' church. The priest was confused until he noticed that his friend had not come alone. The room had gone silent and everyone could hear the men when they spoke.

"Why did they stop, Tim? It sounded nice."

"I'm sorry, Dagwood. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all." Tim's eyes searched out Father Duncan's. "I'm sorry, Father."

"I know you are late, my son," the priest replied, "but I am glad you could come. Why don't you and your friend find a place to sit."

Tim looked relieved and sent a smile of thanks to Father Duncan. He headed for a nearby pew with enough space for two people and stood with the dagger at his side, trying to ignore the looks of the people nearby who were doing their best to pull away from the new arrivals.

Father Duncan made one of his infamous last-minute decisions and changed the course of his sermon. He began speaking of Jesus' encounter with the woman at the well. He spoke of how, even though the woman had no name in scripture, that conversation was still the longest in the New Testament. He spoke of how amazing this was, considering that this was a time of great prejudice against women. He commented on how this was an excellent example of God and Jesus' love for all people, from the richest and most devout to the poorest and those lacking in faith. He finished with a reminder that anyone who welcomed God into their heart shall be blessed.

When the crowd rose for communion, the priest saw Tim reluctantly leave his friend's side to stand in line, once again trying to ignore the strange looks sent by those around him. As he placed the bread into Tim's hand, he placed one of his hands on the man's forehead in a comforting gesture before allowing him to rise and return to his pew.

After several more words, the mass was finally over and Father Duncan watched dejectedly as the crowd rushed to exit the church. Tim immediately came up front to see the priest, the dagger following close behind.

"I am so sorry, Father. I didn't think. I should have remembered that there would have been some kind of reaction..."

"My son, it is all right. Why do you not introduce me to your friend?"

"Umm, Father Duncan, this is Dagwood. Dagwood, this is Father Duncan."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my son," the priest said, offering his hand to the dagger.

"You are not my father," the large man said in confusion.

"No, I am not, but I am like a father in that I love and care for all of God's children that he sends my way. Do you know of God, Dagwood?"

"Yes. Tim taught me."

"Well, I hope he has been a good teacher."

"Yes," the dagger smiled. He finally took the priest's hand in his own and shook it gently.

"Father," Tim broke in. "Could I speak to you for a moment? Alone?"

"Of course, my son."

"Dagwood, I'm going to talk with the Father for a little while. Will you be okay?"

"Yes. I will wait for Tim."

"Good. I'll try not to be long."

"Okay."

With a wavering smile, Tim walked alongside the priest until they had reached the confessional. They took their places and Father Duncan slid the window open.

"Now, what is wrong my son?"

"I'm really sorry, Father. I know you're being really good about this, but I just forgot. I really had to talk to you, and he was feeling so lonely, and after I told him about St. Agnes' he wanted to come too and I just didn't think about what might happen..."

"My son, I meant every word of my sermon today. If those other people have a problem with your friend, then it is up to them to ask God to grant them tolerance and understanding. If your friend wishes to open his heart to the Lord, then I will welcome him with open arms."

Father Duncan could see Tim's smile through the screen. "Thank you, Father."

"Now, you said you had something to speak to me about."

"Yes, Father. Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been a month since my last confession. Father, I am beginning to fear for myself. I have been repressing my feelings for so long that I'm beginning to lose control."

"Lose control? How do you mean, my son?"

"I mean my anger is beginning to take over. I hurt Tony, Father. I may not look very strong, but I could have really hurt him worse than I did. Sure, he was pushing my buttons at the time, and I'd had a frustrating day and everything, but still, that's no excuse. Worse yet, I used him..."

"What happened, my child?"

"Well, it had been an extremely awkward day on the bridge. The Captain kept coming over to my station to check my readings over my shoulder, and every time I'd catch the scent of his after-shave, or feel his breath on my cheek, and my thoughts would be everywhere but on my work. It's so difficult trying to put aside what happened, and I ended up rushing back to my room the moment my shift ended..."

##########

The moment the door to Tim's room was closed, the panting man fell back against it. His eyes scanned his quarters to make certain his roommate wasn't there, then his hand immediately fell to the pants that were much tighter than they had been hours earlier. He moaned as the fingers traced his cock through the material, yearning for any touch to bring him the release he so desperately needed.

Through the blood pounding in his ears, he imagined he heard his name called out by an all-too- familiar voice. Lucas. An image of the blonde boy came to him alongside that of Nathan, his hand tightening its grip on his cock through the navy slacks as his hips moved on instinct.

"Tim, I know you're in there! Let me in!"

He froze. He hadn't imagined the voice after all. He'd been so preoccupied, he hadn't realized that Lucas was knocking on his door and shouting for him.

"Just a minute!"

Tim's heart raced as he tried to pull himself from the edge of panic. He searched his mind for some image, some thought that would instantly relieve him of his painful erection. However, it seemed he couldn't think of a single thing that didn't come with some kind of sexual connotation, not even Darwin. *Like I don't have enough to worry about without *that* on my mind,* he thought.

Finally, his mind flashed back to the images of what he'd seen a couple of years back on that spaceship with Keller and Krieg, and much to his relief, he felt his erection begin to fade. Breathing deeply, he slowed his heartbeat until he felt he could answer the door without Lucas knowing what he'd been up to.

"Umm, hi Lucas. What's up?" Tim instinctively stepped back as the teenager barreled through the open door, swinging a small bag over his shoulder.

"You and Ortiz are still on different shifts, aren't you Tim?"

"Umm, yeah." Tim watched as Lucas tossed his bag onto Miguel's bunk, then flopped down onto the mattress himself. He couldn't help but notice how guarded the teenager's face was.

"Good. I hope you don't mind me crashing here for a couple of nights, do you?"

"Oh, of course not!" Tim's eyes widened, surprised at the request. "But, I hope you don't mind me asking why?"

"Tony just got dumped by this girl he's been seeing the last few visits to Cape Quest and he's been acting like an ass..." Lucas paused at the look Tim gave him, "um, I mean, he's not exactly in the best of moods right now."

"That's not an excuse to chase you out of your own room."

"Oh, it's no big deal. As long as I have a place to crash and can use the computers in the labs, I'll be fine."

Tim frowned. He'd known this arrangement had been a bad idea from the very beginning. He knew he was overprotective of Lucas to begin with, but he'd never liked the idea of him bunking with the ex-con — no matter how nice Tony could be at times.

"Well, Lucas, I've got a few things I need to take care of, so why don't you get some rest since you'll have the room to yourself."

"Okay. I'll see you later," Lucas said. For a moment, Tim thought he sounded somewhat disappointed, but he pushed the thought from his mind.

Tim left his quarters and walked down the ship's corridors, his steps growing heavier with every thought that passed through his mind. He didn't like seeing his friend treated this way, particularly by his own roommate. He could understand Tony being upset, but not taking it out on Lucas.

Before he knew it, his feet had taken him to Lucas and Tony's door.

Tim stood there for several moments, first wondering how he'd ended up there, then wondering what he was going to do. He steeled himself by taking a deep breath, his shoulders drawn back, as he raised his hand and knocked three times.

"What do you want?" a voice shouted from behind the closed door.

"It's Tim. Open up."

"Leave me alone."

Tim grimaced. "Open up, Seaman!"

The door flew open to reveal a flabbergasted Tony Piccolo in his boxers and a tank top. "Since when do you start pulling rank on us, *Lieutenant*?"

"Since you start chasing off your roommates."

Tony turned away, flinging the door as he stalked off, but the door never closed. Tim pushed it back open only to fling it shut the moment he'd entered the man's quarters.

"I said leave me alone!"

"What is it, Tony? I know this isn't about breaking up with some girl because we both know that's happened before and you've never taken it out on Lucas. So what is it?"

Tony mumbled to himself, running his hands down his face.

"What was that?"

"I said fuck off... Sir!"

"Not until you tell me what your problem is."

"You know what *your* problem is, O'Neill?" Tony said, turning to face the commtech. "You're too much of a fucking busybody, always in everybody's business, and we're all sick of it. Get the hint, will ya?"

Tim bit his bottom lip to stem the harsh words from leaving his mouth. He knew Tony was trying to push his buttons, but that didn't stop the little twinge in his chest every word seemed to provoke.

"You're a fucking nobody! It's no wonder you're stuck on the bridge all the time. I wouldn't trust you with my tooth brush, let alone my life. Ya fucking loser! It's no big surprise that not even Lonnie could stand ya. You fucking virgin — worse yet, you fucking queer! You're pretty damn anxious to come talk to me, aren't you. I bet you probably want a fucking piece of me, you little faggot..."

Tim held himself in check as he felt his hands clench into fists at his sides.

"That's it, isn't it O'Neill. You and Ortiz always were close, weren't you. Yeah, and the Captain sure did seem anxious to have you on the ship, didn't he. And just look at how Lucas always comes running to you whenever he's got a fucking problem. I bet you sure do know how to take care of his problems, don't you faggot..."

The words died in Tony's mouth as it encountered Tim's flying fist. Tony fell back against the bulkhead, his hand gingerly touching his lip where it had been split by Tim's fist. Tim looked down at the offending limb, barely able to believe he'd actually struck the man.

"Do it again, faggot." Tim didn't answer, still somewhat dazed. "I said do it again!"

"No."

"What do you mean, no? Show me you're a fucking man and hit me!"

Tim grabbed Tony's shirt and shoved him against the wall. "Why? Why do you want me to hurt you?"

"Come on, O'Neill! Just do it. You know you want to."

Tim looked into Piccolo's eyes and all of a sudden realized why the man wanted to be hurt. However, he had no clue why he felt it was necessary.

"What happened, Tony?"

"What do you mean, what happened? You hit me, that's what happened."

"I mean what happened to upset you like this?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

Tony tried to struggle, but was unable to break Tim's unusually strong grip. The man sighed in resignation and leaned back against the wall.

"Gruder."

"What?"

"I said, Gruder. The last time we were in Cape Quest, Elaine and I were in this bar here. We were dancing, all nice and cozy like, and this guy comes up and taps me on the shoulder. I turn around, and it's Gruder."

"Who's Gruder?"

"Gruder knew me from back in the joint. He thought he owned the place, and he pretty much did. He owned the joint, the guards... us."

Tim took a deep breath, knowing what must have happened to Tony at this Gruder's hands. "Getting someone to hit you won't take the memories, or the pain, away, Tony."

"It will for a while."

"And Lucas wouldn't hit you."

"I didn't want him to try. I just didn't want him to hear me mumbling in my sleep. The last thing I need is this getting around the ship." Tony's eyes looked up into Tim's pleadingly.

"Don't worry. I won't say a thing. But Tony, you've got to do something about this before it eats away at you till there's nothing left." Tim was amazed at the turn his own emotions had taken. He'd gone from being furious at his crewmate to feeling almost as protective of him as he was of Lucas.

"I can't. I can't even stand being around any of the guys, Tim. I don't trust easy, you know that, and now, every guy I see is just another shade of Gruder, out to jump me any moment."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you. You're one of the only ones I *do* trust. Why else would I have gotten you to hit me."

"Then what would you say about replacing your bad memories with good ones?" Tim could barely believe what he was saying. He didn't know whether it was a genuine attraction to the seaman, an urge to comfort the man, leftover arousal from earlier, or some strange power trip, but that very moment, he wanted Tony.

Tony, however, simply looked up at Tim, his eyes showing his confusion. Slowly so as not to scare Tony, Tim bent his head forward and licked the man's wounded lip.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"I want you to answer my question."

Tim's lips curved into a smile, noticing Tony hadn't said no. "I'm trying to make you feel better, Tony. I want you to know that whenever guys are together, whether as friends or as partners, there doesn't have to be any pain or hurting of any kind."

"No."

Tim moved back slightly. "I'm sorry, I..."

Tony's eyes met his, filled with fear but laced with curiosity. "No, I mean, don't stop."

Tim smiled and dipped his head to place a kiss on the side of Tony's neck. He grinned to himself as he felt the gills fluttering against his lips. He moved up and along the seaman's jaw until he'd reached a kissable earlobe, which he took between his lips and sucked on gently. He released his grip on the seaman's shirt, instead moving his palms along Tony's chest. He could feel the tension in the muscles beneath the shirt and started pulling away, worriedly looking into Tony's eyes for signs of distress.

"Tony, I'm sorry. If..." Tim's voice caught in his throat.

"If what?"

"If you don't want to do anything. Really, I'll stop right now."

"You said you wanted to take the bad memories away, right?" Tim nodded. "I trust you, man."

Tim hesitantly placed his lips against Tony's. After a few seconds, the lips began to move, responding to the gentle pressure Tim was exerting. Tim's hands slipped under Tony's shirt and began sliding along the smooth, muscled stomach. Tony moaned into his mouth and Tim slipped his tongue between the open lips.

As Tim felt Tony's hands grab onto his shoulders to pull him closer, he had to fight to gain control of himself. He was once again as hard as he'd been back in his quarters, and he wanted to do this right.

Tim pulled himself away from Tony's arms, taking several steps back. He walked over to the door and with a quick flick of his hand, locked it. He smiled at Tony. "You never know what well-meaning person might decide to come for a visit." Tony nodded.

Tim walked back toward the seaman, but stopped when he was but a few feet away. With almost shaking hands, he unzipped his uniform slowly, his eyes never leaving Tony's face as he started pulling away his clothes. The jumpsuit was the first to fall, soon followed by a white t- shirt. Finally, Tim pulled off Monday's boxers and stood still, allowing Tony to see him as he was — slim, flushed, and very aroused.

Tony's eyes took all of him in, then rested on his face. The man couldn't keep a small grin from forming. "There somethin' you been hidin', O'Neill?"

"Nah, Tony. I have nothing to hide," Tim replied, playful and serious at the same time. He took a few steps forward until he was once again in front of Tony. He rested a hand on the bottom edge of the tank top and raised questioning eyes to the clothed man, who nodded. Tim pulled the material up the torso and over the blond's head. Smirking, he playfully ran a hand through the blonde hair to ruffle it further.

Tony stuck his tongue out at Tim, only to have it sucked into the other man's mouth before he could pull it back. As Tim's tongue mated with Tony's, his hands roamed the now-naked chest and back, gently tracing along every inch of skin they could find. Tim sighed into Tony's mouth when he felt a pair of hands rest on his hips and two thumbs running up and down his stomach. Encouraged by the act, Tim leaned forward until he was fully pressed against Tony, and he was relieved to feel the hard cock rubbing against his through the soft material of Tony's boxers. Tim's hands hesitated on the soft skin above the waistband of the boxers.

"Tony?" At the man's frantic nodding, Tim slowly slid his fingers under the elastic, pushing the material over Tony's hips so they could fall to the floor. The boxers out of the way, Tim once again leaned his body against Tony's, their hard cocks rubbing against each other and causing both men to gasp.

Tim pulled back slowly, grabbing onto Tony's upper arms and pulling him over to the lower bunk. He pushed the blond down onto the mattress and, covering him with his own body, captured his lips again. His lips trailed down Tony's neck and over his chest, paying special attention to the sensitive nipples, then kept moving down until they were nose-to-cock.

Tim relished the surprised gasp from Tony as his tongue first stroked the thick cock. He bathed it from head to root, running his tongue along the slit and under the foreskin, until Tony was writhing on the bunched-up sheets. Opening his mouth wide, Tim took the head into his mouth, suckling gently as his left hand took hold of the shaft. Pausing his mouth's motions, he wet one of the fingers of his right hand and brought it between the man's cheeks.

"May I, Tony?"

The seaman made some sort of unintelligible sound that Tim took as an affirmative, and began running his wet finger around the tightly puckered hole in relaxing motions. He brought his mouth back to the cock in his other hand and felt the tight muscles loosening slightly. He gently pressed his finger through the muscles, waiting for them to relax before pushing all the way in. His left hand began stroking up and down the shaft in time with his mouth as his finger searched inside Tony, searching for a hard little nub.

"Oh fuck! Shit, what the fuck was that?"

Tim didn't answer, continuing his ministrations as Tony began moaning louder and louder. After one last stroke inside the other man, Tim heard one final shout before the muscles contracted around his finger and a stream of cum filled his mouth. He swallowed until Tony's cock was limp, and he released it to move up the boneless form. He gently stroked a flushed cheek, trying to encourage the tightly shut eyes to open for him.

"Tony? You okay?"

"Okay?" Tony mumbled. "Okay? Man, if that was okay, than the ocean's just a little wet."

Tim smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." Tim brought his lips to Tony's, his still-hard cock unconsciously pressing against the sated man's thigh.

"Tim?"

"Hmm?" Tim felt Tony's thigh press into his groin. "Oh, that, well, don't worry about it. I'll take care of that."

"No. Tim, I..."

"What?"

"You've made me feel so good, I want you to feel like that too, y'know? I want you to... to... well, you know."

"No, Tony, I don't want to hurt you..."

"I said I trusted ya, didn't I? Please, make me forget Gruder's ever been there."

Tim's forehead fell against Tony's chest as he took several deep breaths. When he looked up, he couldn't help but see the certainty in Tony's eyes. "I'll need some kind of oil or lotion to make this easier."

"You don't have to. I kinda got used to goin' without."

"No. Not with me. I said I wouldn't hurt you, and I won't."

"Well, I think Luke's got some hand stuff or sumthin'."

Tim nodded and rose from the bunk. A quick glance at the far side of the room was all he needed to spot the hand cream in its pump dispenser. Once he'd grabbed it and turned back to the bunk, he noticed that Tony had turned onto his stomach. Tim sighed, thinking the man had decided to go to sleep rather than go through with this after all. He reached for a blanket and started covering the naked man.

"I thought ya wuz gonna help me here, O'Neill."

"Oh, I thought you'd decided to sleep instead."

"No way. I'm ready for ya."

Tim pushed the blanket away and knelt onto the bunk. Pumping some of the lotion into his hand, he set the bottle within hand's reach and began spreading the cream between Tony's cheeks. As he had done earlier, he pushed one finger into Tony's more relaxed hole. He pushed in a second and a third, surprised at the lack of resistance now that the man was no longer scared or nervous. He shook his head, secretly wishing the worst on the man that had caused Tony so much pain.

Tim removed his fingers and pumped some more lotion into his hand to spread over his own cock. He moved behind Tony, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah, Tim. Do it."

Slowly, Tim pushed into Tony. After several moments, he was fully sheathed inside his friend and he took a moment to savour the sensation.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good, Tim. Surprisingly good."

Relieved, Tim started gently rocking while inside Tony. After a while, he graduated to pulling out and thrusting back in, slowly at first but increasing in speed. He heard Tony's muffled gasps and wished he knew what the man was feeling. He began losing his grip on his self-control and began thrusting wilder, harder, until he finally came inside Tony.

Tim was able to muster enough energy to pull out of Tony before collapsing beside him on the tiny bunk. As he slowly caught his breath, he heard something that sounded like a sniff coming from the man beside him. He placed a soothing hand on the man's shoulder, feeling guilty.

"Tony, oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't meant to..."

"Tim, it's okay. I'm fine. That was... nice."

"Tony, if I hurt you, please tell me."

"You didn't hurt me. As I said, that was *nice*." Tony rolled onto his side, facing away from Tim. "I don't think I've ever really known anything that *nice* before, y'know?"

Tim nodded, understanding every word. He slid an arm around Tony's waist, holding him close until he felt his friend's breathing settle into sleep's even rhythm. Once certain the man was sound asleep, he managed to climb over Tony without waking him, replaced the bottle of lotion so Lucas wouldn't notice it missing, then pulled his clothes back on.

As he headed back for his room, he couldn't help the guilt that crept into his conscience. He'd used Tony, he couldn't deny it, but why was a question he couldn't answer. He only hoped the experience had helped his friend.

He quietly opened the door to his room. In the dim light, he could see Lucas had fallen fast asleep. However, the teenager was not sleeping in Miguel's bunk, but in Tim's. He knelt down next to the bunk and brushed a few strands of wild hair from the young man's forehead. With a final sigh, he turned to Miguel's bed and prepared to get some sleep of his own.

##########

"...I still can't believe I acted so harshly. I'm such a terrible person, Father."

"My son, while your actions were not the kindest, it is my firm belief that the Lord put you in a position to help your friend, which I cannot help but think you did. As for your using your friend, it is my firm belief that you would have helped him in any way possible, and it was your subconscious desires that decided on the method. What has happened since that night, my son?"

"Well, Tony and I talked a little the next day. We both agreed that what had happened was a one-night thing, friend helping friend. Lucas moved back in and everything's been okay as far as I can tell."

"Well, there's your answer, my son. I think I know you, and you always watch out for your friends, which you did twice that night. Now, how do *you* feel, child?"

"Me? Well, I'm still kind of guilty."

"That is not surprising, my son. You must pray to the Lord, and he will help you. Before you sleep tonight, say three Hail Marys."

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Father."

The two men exited the booth. Father Duncan clasped Tim's hand in both of his. "Now, take care of yourself as well as your friends, all right?" Tim nodded. The priest watched as the man sought out his strangely-coloured friend so they could head back to their ship.

He couldn't help but smile to himself. That man had an uncanny knack for getting himself into such morally confusing situations. He sighed as he headed for his private chambers, thanking the Lord that Tim had been led to St. Agnes', and not the parish of a more conservative priest.

*****

Father Duncan turned away from his small computer, disappointed at still not having received any word from his old friend. He headed to the counter and started making himself some coffee, but stopped as a chime sounded from the computer. He rushed over to it, thanking the Lord for answering his prayers so quickly, and his heart leapt in joy as he saw the message was from the seaQuest.

"Dear Father Duncan,

I cannot write too good, so my friend Lucas is helping me. It is me, Dagwood. My friend Tim brought me to your pretty place one time and you were really nice to me. That is why I am writing to you. Everybody who was missing like I was is writing to their friends and families to let them know that they're ok. I don't have any family, and all my friends are here on the seaQuest. Then I remembered you and how nice you were to me, so I thought I would write you to let you know I'm ok.

Tim is ok too, but he's really sad. The new Captain does not like him very much. Sometimes he talks to me and sometimes he talks to Darwin, but I think he misses you and the pretty place.

I have to go work now. Thank you again for being so nice to me.

Dagwood"

Father Duncan pushed away the disappointment that the message had not come from his friend. He was happy that the GELF had remembered him and St. Agnes'. He often preached to his parishioners that kindnesses were always remembered, and the letter was a reminder that his words were true.

Turning off the computer, he stood again to make himself some coffee.



***
END