Fractals

Fractals Chapter Fifteen (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta: *sing song * I got fabric… loverly white fabric, lol. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are wonderbunnies for archiving/hosting! :) ProPhile: There will be more soon. I promise. Morgan: You there? Readers/Reviewers: Thanks!!!! Seriously, thanks!!!!!

Rahne was glad to be out of the house, even if it meant that she had to put up with Jubilee and Logan muttering and complaining the entire time they were out. “It’s not that bad,” she said under her breath before smacking Jubilee on the back of her head and making her spit out her gum, catching neatly in a maneuver that many a mother had tried to perfect.
“Ow!” Jubilee’s harassed tone rang off the vaulted ceiling of the church. “Dude, uncool!”
“Shut. Up.” Logan growled. He was not much for organized religion—in fact, churches made him nervous—but he did have respect for Rahne’s devotion. Jubilee sighed in boredom and flounced to the last pew on the right side of the nave1 and made a show of sitting down, sprawling her legs out in front of her.
Rahne rolled her eyes, glad the church was empty at this hour of the morning save for the cleaning lady and the priest in the wooden booth on the other side of the church. “I’ll just be a short while,” she repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time.
“Just go,” Logan sighed. “We ain’t gonna leave you here.”
Rahne nodded and sniffed back a wave of nervous emotion. She felt for her beads in her pocket, made sure her scarf was on straight2, and marched to the confessional like a woman on a mission. She did not exhale until she was inside the old wooden structure, no larger than a closet really, and kneeling on the red padded kneeler before the thickly carved screen separating the two sides of the booth. She fished her beads out of her pocket and wrapped the Rosary around her fingers, kissing the Crucifix at the end. She knocked gently on the wood, letting the priest know she was ready. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three weeks since my last Confession…”

Jubilee stared at the stained glass window representing Mary Magdalene and her traditional image with the skull at her feet.3 She did not shift focus as Logan’s bulk settled beside her and he leaned back against the wooden pew, sighing. “You know,” she said in a quieter tone than before, “there’s a lot of death in here.” She pointed to the window, the Stations of the Cross,4 and the figure on the Crucifix. “Kind of makes me glad I’m Buddhist.”
Logan snorted. “Not a real good one if you’re judgin’ Rahne’s religion, Sparky.”
Jubilee sighed. “I’m not judging. I just don’t want to be here…” She was actually fascinated by the structure itself, the mystery behind it all, but she was not about to admit that within earshot of anyone who might suggest a tour fraught with boring lectures and historical lessons. “What’d she need to confess, anyway? I thought she was one of those progressive sex before marriage types.”
Logan made a choking noise that might have been a laugh cut short before responding. “It’s between her and the man in black.”
“Johnny Cash?” Jubilee asked with raised brows.
“The priest, Sparky, the priest!”
“I know,” she replied, smirking and punching his arm lightly. “I just felt the need for levity.”
“Hmm,” Logan murmured, the smell of floor wax and lemon furniture polish tickling his nose. He could hear the cleaning lady moving in the narthex5, the very faint lilt of Rahne’s voice and an answering baritone when she would pause, and he could hear Jubilee cracking her gum clearest of all. “I think Rahne took that from you.”
“I have a spare,” she muttered, frowning. “I think someone’s watching us.”
“Huh?” Logan was on his feet then, scanning the church more avidly. “Where?”
“There, in that nook thingy with the fountain.” She pointed to the alcove with the baptismal font.
“I don’t…wait here.” Logan saw a flicker of movement in the shadows near the alcove and he took off at a quick stride, heading right for it and focusing only on the spot where he had seen movement. He could smell something metallic, something with a slight burned tinge to it, but when he reached the spot, there was nothing and nobody there. He cocked his head to one side, listening, and smiled grimly when a rustling noise gave the location away. He moved as if to return to his seat next to Jubilee, who was now staring openly at him, then whirled and lunged at the thick bank of candles between the alcove and the third station of the Cross. There was a sharp yelp as Logan dragged his quarry into the light.
“Don’t kill me!” the young boy quaked. “My mom’s expecting me in an hour…”
Logan dropped him summarily. “Who are you?”
“I’m Jack…I’m an altar server,” he added, explaining his presence in the church.
Logan took in the young boy, how scared her looked and the stench of pure fear rising off of his flesh. “Sorry. Thought you were someone else…” Jack did not wait to be told. He ran from the church, the doors banging shut behind him.
“What the fuck?” Jubilee hissed as Logan returned to the seat warily. “What was he doing here? Why was he hiding under the candle stand thingy?”
“No idea,” Logan replied. “Maybe he was cleaning spilled wax…”
“Or maybe he wanted more pictures,” she suggested darkly.
“Of us at church? What’s the Planet gonna say? ‘Look out for these people… they might be church goers?” He rolled his eyes again. “Probably just overreacting, bein’ twitchy.”
The sound of a door opening made them both look up to see Rahne approaching them, trailed by a rotund, older main with red cheeks and a shock of snow white hair. “This is Father Samuels,” she said by way of introduction. “He’s going to be helping me with this meeting I have coming up…”
There were handshakes and muttered greetings all around before Logan said conversationally, “I think I just scared one of your altar boys spitless, Father…” he related the recent tale to the curious priest.
“You’re mistaken,” Father Samuels smiled kindly. “We don’t let altar servers in the church without supervision… and we don’t have one named Jack.”
Jubilee’s brows quirked. ‘Sure you do. We just saw him.”
“I’m sorry, but I know all sixteen altar servers here at St Euphemia of the Five Wounds6 and there is not a single one named Jack.”
Logan stiffened. “We have to go. Now.”
“What’s wrong?” Father Samuels asked, trailing after them.
Rahne shot him a look that was supposed to be reassuring but failed by a mile. “We left the iron on!” Already, she could feel her stomach tying into new and painful knots. “Logan, do you think it was someone from one of the papers?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, yanking the door to the Jeep open. “But I think town just became off limits for us.”

1 Aisles are actually what runs down the side of the church. The nave runs down the middle.
2 Orthodox Catholics and the more conservative ones decree that women should cover their hair in church, hence the scarves and mantillas of lace. I don’t see Rahne as Orthodox but I think she’s still in awe enough of Church traditions that she would do something like wear a headscarf into the church proper.
3 Mary Magdalene is often depicted with a skull either at her feet or as if she were contemplating a skull. http://www.calweb.com/~queribus/Magnskull.jpeg

4 Pictures (sometimes windows, sometimes paintings, sometimes statues and sometimes just Roman numerals) around the perimeter of the inside of a Catholic church depicting the last hours of Christ. Thirteen in all and some can be quite gory.
5 Sort of like the foyer to a church.
6 I admit it… the name comes from the movie Nuns on the Run