Fractals

Fractals Chapter Fifty Three (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *ahem* Moo. Bovilexia returns! InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting! ProPhile…hmmm. I think you know the drill by now. Morgan: *sigh* I know, I’m late with it… *hangs head in shame* Readers/Reviewers: *glomp * Thanks!

Rahne knelt slowly, resting her arms on the back of the pew in front of her. The thought crossed her mind that she understood the need for self flagellation at times like this, that part of her would be more than willing to take up a leather strap and whip her own back to ribbons just to have this done with. _Silly Vatican II and those rules against it, _she thought fleetingly, surprising herself. _That’s it. No more DaVinci Code for you, girlie… _1 She bowed her head and made the Sign of the Cross as Todd slipped out of the shadows near the confessionals and took a seat near her. “Sorry,” she breathed.
“I told ya not to go back for the beads,” he muttered. “It’s like the Mob… just when you think you’re out, they pull you back in.”2 He glanced sideways at her and smirked faintly. “I thought maybe you were gonna go get Lover Boy up and bring him along.”
Rahne shook her head slightly, deciding it was better to appear that she was praying and not panicking on the off chance the archbishop or even just a priest was watching from the narthex, waiting for her to join them for the dreaded meeting. “Long story. Tell you later.” She moved the wooden beads between her fingers and sighed softly. “Is it too late to become Protestant?”
“Uh, a bit,” Todd replied, raising a brow. Reluctantly, he slid to his knees on the kneeler before him and scooted closer to keep from being overheard. “So what took you? Someone want girl talk or something?”
“Shhhh,” she hissed quietly. “I’ll tell you when we’re done here, before we go back…” She shot him a sideways glance that bespoke nervousness and uncertainty. “I promise,” she added.
Todd frowned. Rahne was acting strangely, even for her, he thought. He could understand being jittery and twitchy about this whole Excommunication thing and it mystified him as to why it was even happening… he figured that out of all the people in the world, Rahne was the least deserving of it… but he could tell that there was something else at work in her mind, something preying on her while she bent her head and whispered the words appropriate to each bead. “You know, I ain’t been in a church, I mean, ya know, not really, for a long time…” He craned his neck and looked up, taking in the stained glass over the altar and the painted triptychs for the Stations of the Cross. “So… God, huh?” He sniffed and shrugged, putting on a bored mien. “Yeah, we used to talk an’ stuff but we sorta lost touch after that whole fucking up my life thing, ya know? Me an’ him… we’re not on speakin’ terms…”
Rahne’s eyes went wide and she pressed her lips together into a thin line. She knew she should not laugh and the voice of Father Smythe was shrieking in her head for her to send him to a priest to get a good talking to, but a tiny giggle escaped. “Todd,” she managed without sounding too much like she was laughing, “stop it!” She pressed her folded hands against her mouth as if she were kissing her beads and squeezed her eyes shut to block out his sly grin.
“Well, it ain’t like I got a problem with the guy… we all have busy lives an’ shit an’ can’t really expect him to pencil me in for a chat what with all the wars goin’ on an’ rappers thankin’ him and football games to influence, but you know, a memo would be nice…” He dropped his voice and said in a low tone “Tolensky, sorry about the sucking chest wound that’s been your life so far… Expect naked Swedish women and a pot of gold posthaste. God.”
Rahne barely managed to stifle a giggle, her eyes watering. “Todd,” she choked, “my babysitter when I was a little girl was Swedish. All four hundred pounds of her.”
Todd blinked. “Well…” He sniffed and elbowed Rahne in the arm. “Big gals need lovin’ too.”
She lost it then. She pressed her forehead to the cool wood of the pew in front of her and laughed, albeit as quietly as possible, her eyes watering and her chest threatening hiccoughs as she glared at Todd. “For the love of all that’s good,” she gasped, “I’m trying to be serious!”
“Yeah, I noticed,” he grinned, sitting back in the pew. “Had to make sure that didn’t last.”
“I’m so glad you’re having a good time,” a strident female voice said from the back of the church. “I’m not too surprised… I wouldn’t expect anything less from you than treating this whole thing as if it were a joke!”
Rahne gasped sharply, all color draining from her face. She stood slowly, smoothing her hands over her skirt and turning to face the back of the church. “Good morning, Mother. Nice of you to come all the way from Muir Island for this.”
“I didn’t come for you,” she snapped, stepping into the slice of sunlight cutting through the darkness of the Gothic revival church. “I came for me. I tried, Rahne,” she continued, her voice shaking, “I tried to convince myself you weren’t an abomination but…”
Todd was on his feet and glaring, his fingers curling into fists at his side. “Not like she had a choice, huh? She didn’t pick her DNA, did she?” He noticed how disturbingly like her mother Rahne looked and found that to be more disconcerting than the woman’s obvious distaste.
“Shut up,” Mrs Sinclair snapped. “All of you are sick. You’re abominations!”
Rahne remained quiet but Todd could feel the shame radiating from her. “Damn it,” he muttered, “you know that ain’t true. Hell, even I know that ain’t true and I’m kinda dumb.”
Rahne tossed her head with a defiance she did not feel. “I am not yours to judge, Mother.” She sailed down the aisle in a flurry of righteous indignation and embarrassment, pushing past her mother without a backwards glance.
Todd sniffed and glared at Mrs Sinclair. The older woman turned on her heel and followed Rahne towards the offices in the back of the Church. He stood for a moment longer and exhaled sharply. Glancing up at the crucifix over the altar, he muttered, “Yeah, make sure you add a few red heads to those Swedish women… I deserve it after this.”


1 The DaVinci Code includes things about a certain order still active in the modern incarnation of the Roman Catholic church which still engages in mortification of the flesh, much like most holy orders did pre-Vatican II.
2 That’s paraphrased from some movie but for the life of me I can’t remember which one…