(no subject)

[shamrocked-.insanejournal.com]

Who: Saint Patrick and Hermes
What: Two people who will never quite understand each other trying to have a conversation
When: Saturday afternoon
Where: In front of Patrick's apartment, a car, and Hermes' fake ID business place

Patrick had slipped out of the apartment to get bread. That was all he wanted. Just a loaf of bread so he could have toast, maybe with beans, or perhaps with jam and butter. Toast was all he really wanted, and he had had to resort to oatmeal for breakfast because all the bread was gone. Patrick suspected David.

Being 'abducted', even if only for a few hours and under rather amusing circumstances, wasn't high on his list of things he wanted to do. He wanted toast, not excitement, though in the end he was glad he had had the oatmeal.

He had taken the steps from his apartment two at a time in his excited anticipation of toasty goodness. He hadn't made it more than ten steps before the window of a black, ominous-looking car opened a crack and Patrick heard a creepy voice say, "Saint Patrick."

Patrick froze in his spot, his toasty-thought-induced smile fading from his face. He turned warily towards the window, but he couldn't see into the car. Someone knew his real identity, however. Someone in a creepy car with a creepy voice and Patrick imagined several creepy faces to match. One was Voldemort, though he was fairly sure Voldemort wasn't in Brooklyn.

"Saint Patrick, open the door and get in."

Patrick blinked, feeling rather out of his depth. He was well aware it was stupid to get into a stranger's car, even if you were 1,623 instead of 12. "Uhm...no thanks, don't need a ride. I'm just going to the store on the corner, so-"

"Saint Patrick." The voice sounded disappointed.

"Shhh!" Patrick flapped his hands as the occasional person passing him gave him a strange look. "What do you want...weird...creepy person?"

"My boss wants to talk to you. Get in the car."

"Who is your boss?" Patrick asked, taking a step backwards. Was Opium behind this? No, Opium wouldn't bother. Alcohol? It was probably Alcohol.

"You'll find out if you get in the car," the voice said, impatient now. "If you don't get it we'll drag you in, but that will cause a scene and who wants that?"

Patrick stared at his slightly scared reflection in the blackened window and he thought of just running back inside or at least trying, but instead he found himself saying something that shocked even him. "Okay okay! But my friend is a detective, so just you...keep that in mind," Patrick said, opening the door and climbing in. He only did so because he was now sure this was Alcohol's doing and despite knowing it was a bad idea, and knowing it would disappoint the people he loved, he wanted to see her. He was also sure John was never going to let him hear the end of this.

The inside of the car was dark and Patrick was separated from the drivers by a screen. The moment the door was closed, it locked and the car pulled away from the curb. Patrick knocked on the screen he couldn't see through. "Hello? I thought we were going to talk, where are you taking me?!" He received no reply and so Patrick leaned back against the backseat and he tried to watch out the window to see where he was going. It was hard to see, and as they got farther and farther away from his house, he recognised their surroundings less and less.

And slowly, he started feeling more worried that he was about to die. Maybe this wasn't Alcohol's doing. Maybe he had just willingly stepped into a car and let himself be abducted and now he was going to some underground bunker where he would never again see the light of day?! Why hadn't he brought his cell phone?! From now on he was carrying it everywhere, even to the store.

**********

When the car parked at another curb, the door opened and Patrick piled out of it, immediately flanked by two, rather burly men. "Oh...hello there." He noted that neither of them looked like Voldemort. "So where are we going then?" They didn't reply, though they did walk him up past a storfront and into a door beside it. There was a narrow stairwell and he was marched up ahead of them as they blocked off his escape. "Oh, upstairs. This...this hallway is narrow. So your boss is up here then? And then this will make sense? Hmm? Guys?"

One of them steered Patrick towards and door at the top of the stairs, and it was then that he absolutely panicked. "Don't tie me up!" Patrick squealed. "I'll go anywhere you want me to go, just please don't tie me up." He wished he didn't sound so pathetic, but that was honestly what he was panicking about the most.

The door opened and he was led into a swanky office which was a little out of place considering the shabby hallway. The moment he stepped foot inside, he recognised the figure behind the desk and felt instant relief. It wasn't Alcohol, it was someone he actually liked. Hermes wouldn't tie him up. "Hermes! Gracious me! You know...I do have a cell phone!" Patrick said, sure now that Hermes really did just want to chat and that he wasn't about to be locked up in someone's basement and ordered to put the lotion on it's skin. "Not that I have it on me, but it's more pleasant than abduction!"

Hermes arched one brow and then he indicated that Patrick should sit in the chair facing him. Patrick sat. Hermes shooed his workers out the door and then he glared at Patrick, immediately filling Patrick with unease yet again. "My sister tells me she's expecting a baby," Hermes said with a growl.

This was about Clio? Why was Hermes glaring at him? "Uh...yes," Patrick nodded. "But she seems pleased about it, so...are-are you upset about that?" How was Patrick supposed to help? He would try his best, but he had to know where to start.

"I know it was you," Hermes said with an arched brow.

"W- What!" That was all Patrick was actually able to say to that. He was too shocked for anything else.

"You spent so much time over at Clio's house. And you will take responsibility. She's fragile right now-"

How did one logically jump from spending time with someone to 'you made her baby'? "I know!" Patrick shouted and then he felt like that wasn't so smart when Hermes glared at him. "I know Clio is fragile right now because I've been there for her. And before, when I was around all the time, it was for me. But I wasn't- I have a boyfriend!" Why did people assume he was the father!?

"So you're gay?" Hermes asked, easing up on the glaring.

Patrick swallowed, his throat suddenly dry with abated fear that he was going to die, and worry that he wasn't going to say the right thing and Hermes would get angry again. Right now he wished Alcohol was who he had been brought to see. At least then he'd have a drink. "Well, no- Not completely."

"Then how is that meant to convince me?" Hermes asked, actually legitimately confused.

"Er..." Patrick glanced down at his hands. "Because I love my boyfriend?"

"I love my wife and I have gotten people pregnant before," Hermes said matter-of-factly, and Patrick only just managed not to ask him if he always took responsibility for his children.

"I...love my boyfriend in a monogamous way," Patrick tried again.

"Oh," Hermes said, looking sightly horrified. "Why?"

Patrick looked like he had just been asked why he bothered to breathe. If Hermes was going to ask why to that question, how was Patrick ever supposed to answer it? "Because...he makes me happy? And he's all I need."

"I don't follow."

Patrick flapped his hands around. "It doesn't matter! My point is that I never had sex with your sister!" At least he was pretty sure he hadn't, since the last time he got blackout drunk, it was before he started visiting Clio. He might have slept with her in the past, if she was in the habit of picking up blackout drunk men from Irish pubs, but somehow he thought the chances were higher he had picked up Hermes that way. "The baby isn't mine. But I will still be there for her. You didn't need to kidnap me while I was on my way to do my shopping to get me to promise that."

Hermes studied Patrick as if he was a specimen Hermes had never seen before. "You Christians are funny," he finally said.

"Funny haha?"

"Weird," Hermes explained. "You just are. You baffle me a little. I just figured she didn't tell me you were the father because you're a saint so it's shameful."

"Consider yourself in good company then," Patrick said easily. "About the bafflement. Not the...shame." He cleared his throat and he was quite relieved when Hermes smiled. "I care about Clio a great deal. As a friend. Which is as far as it goes. But I think she will be pleased to know how much her brother loves her."

"She needs someone to look out for her," Hermes explained. "Do you know who the father is?"

"I didn't ask, though I think I might not tell you for fear you would kidnap him too. Sorry."

"No, that's fair," Hermes said with a sigh. "I played my hand a little heavy there. Do you want tea?"

Patrick wanted to crawl onto his couch and relax from the hour-long adrenaline rush, and tea was the last thing on his mind, so he shook his head. "Just...can I go home please?"

Patrick was grateful when Hermes complied, sending him home in the same car he had been brought in.

Patrick forgot about the bread entirely.