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WHO: Saint Patrick, The Antichrist and then Clio
WHAT: Joshua being a creepy dick and then going home to Clio
WHEN: Lunchtime on Monday
WHERE: Patrick's office and then his apartment
WARNINGS: Language and the Antichrist being rude, mentions of rape and torture

It had been a quiet day and Patrick had actually gotten a great deal done. He had managed to get gainful employment for several of his clients and he was feeling incredibly accomplished. All that flew out the window when he looked up at the sound of someone entering his office, and he caught sight of the Antichrist.

Patrick jumped out of his chair so quickly it spun away from him in protest. "What are you doing here?" he asked, nearly all the words coming out in the same instant.

"Rude," Joshua said with a raised eyebrow. "Does this mean you're not happy to see me?"

Quickly Patrick tried to think of all the co-workers who were in today so he could make sure none of them had been hurt as soon as he got rid of this bastard. If Joshua didn't drag him out of the office and hand him over to Lucifer for some horrifying torture.

"Have a guess," Patrick shot back, glaring at him.

"Where's Wrath?" Joshua asked, glancing at the desk in the corner. "Heard she worked here."

Well shit, that was not information Patrick had assumed the Hellspawn had. He was going to have to warn her. "She quit," Patrick lied. "Not surprising, she doesn't really like me." Which Patrick hoped was also a lie. "And I don't really like you so you can go."

Joshua raised his eyebrows and this lips twisted into a cruel smile. "Saint, don't tempt me to call my parents here. I will do it in a second flat and how well do you think you would last when your big brother was there for three days and nearly died. He's twice your size and three times the man you are."

Joshua's opinion about him was pretty much how Patrick felt as well, but this prick had hurt his brother and from what he had inferred from the things George and Wrath had said, he was fairly sure Joshua had raped Wrath as well. Joshua could insult Patrick all he wanted, but knowing the things he had done to the people Patrick loved made Patrick's insides twist with anger. "You're nothing but a weak little asshole," Patrick growled at him.

"And you can talk? You're an alcoholic loser who can't do anything right! It's hardly worth it to torture you, you'd break in five seconds."

"You'd be surprised," Patrick replied through clenched teeth.

"I do like surprises. I might give you a try then. Do you know how many of George's bones I broke? How many times I burned his skin?" Patrick's eyes narrowed and he was starting to see red. His fists clenched and yet the Antichrist kept talking. "I cut into him, Patrick. I could cut into you too." Joshua arched one eyebrow at the saint. "I don't usually like cock, but I could take a ride on you. Show your brother what he gets for insulting me."

That made Patrick sick to his stomach. He just had to get out of here without Joshua dragging him anywhere. "What is it with you and rape?!" Patrick hissed at Joshua. "Can you not get anyone to sleep with you willingly?"

Joshua's face darkened and he took a step forward. The moment he moved, Patrick reached for the closest thing on his desk, a stapler, and he hurled it at the Antichrist, catching the man on the corner of the eye.

Joshua leaned forward with a cry of pain. Patrick immediately bent his head in prayer. It had been written that he prayed druids off cliffs, and even if he hadn't before it was written, once enough people believed, he had used it to his full advantage. It wasn't a common belief any more, but there were still people who read those works. Still people who knew about the powerful Patrick of lore. Joshua wouldn't be at full strength until the end of the world either. So he prayed for help and when Joshua straightened up, he was immediately pushed backwards and out through the office door.

Patrick's eyes snapped open and he stepped forward, still praying. Without meaning to, he started to glow, and every step he took, Joshua was pushed backwards. "Just go!" Patrick yelled at him.

"Fuck you!" Joshua bellowed back, trying to shove himself forward despite whatever invisible barrier was pushing him back.

Patrick shook his head. "Fine." He bowed his head again and Joshua was pushed backwards so violently, he tripped and fell down the stairs. Patrick followed then, feigning worry. "Oh no, are you alright?" he asked, helping Joshua up.

Joshua pulled his arm out of Patrick's grip, not without pain. Other people had come to see what was happening, and Joshua glowered at Patrick. "I'm fine," he hissed. "I'll be seeing you again later." And he turned on his heel and then limped away pathetically.

Letting out a breath, Patrick went to check on his staff and then he let them all go home early. He was going to have to text Michael and get the angel to set up some wards around his workplace. Before that though, he was going home.

****************

He walked through the door and then leaned back against it to take a few deep breaths before he called out for Clio. "Clio? I'm home. I had a shitty day."

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Her day had actually gone pretty well. She'd had to gone back to her classes, but with finals coming up all she had to do was make sure her students were prepared.

Not hard, considering. When she'd come back to Patrick's place she'd flopped down into the couch to check on the process of the finals. It w as strange, and yet, not how at home she felt.

By the time Patrick came home she'd relaxed with a cup of tea. When she heard him she jumped up and went to him, "what's wrong? "

Patrick let out a breath and then he rubbed his eye tiredly. "The Antichrist came to be a smarmy git at me. I really dislike him."

"Oh no," worriedly she set her hands on his arms checking him over. She didn't know what the Antichrist could do but seeing his parentage it could be nothing good. "Did he hurt you. Are you alright?"

"He didn't hurt me," Patrick assured her, though it made him feel loved that she was checking to see. "He came to find Wrath and when she wasn't there he did his best to piss me off by talking about the things he did to George."

"Oh thank the gods," she set her hands on his cheeks and kissed him, relieved he was okay. She released him and set her hands on his shoulders. "I'm sorry love. Can I do anything? I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to do anything, I'm alright. He didn't leave without threatening me, of course. He's just gross."

"Okay." Smiling she released him and stepped back "if you need to talk I'm here. Do we need to worry about him making good on the threats?" She didn't want him getting hurt.

"I don't know," Patrick said honestly. "I hope not. He said-" he breathed out and reached for her hand. "He said he was going to try to rape me, but I'm rather hoping he was just big-noting himself."

She cringed at his word, but took his hand "okay so not wanting that to happen. Lets hope it was bluster. Did you call Michael? And I may know a few people who can keep you safe. I'm worried. What do these hell people have with forcing others?"

"I texted Michael and he's coming tomorrow to put some wards up at my office before people show up. I wouldn't mind more protection though. I honestly don't know why they're so...hateful. I uhm...prayed him down some stairs though."

She didn't know what the Antichrist looked like but the image was fun none the less. "Okay, little amusing. And I'll call some people. I'm just worried about you. I don't understand why these things keep picking on you."

"I don't know either, I'm really nice!" Patrick lamented. "Come here?" He held his arms out to her and embraced her tightly. "I love you and coming back here to be with you makes me feel better already."

When he asked her to come to him, she did and returned his embrace. "I know. It just doesn't make sense. Maybe I'm not meant to understand." Shrugging she kissed him, "I love you too. And I'm glad I'm helping."

If anything did happen to him, he could look on these days with her and try to keep his mind lost in his happiness instead of on whatever horror was happening to him at the time. "Clio? If anything does happen, just...you'll call, Michael, right?" He clung just a little bit tighter. "Or maybe even Hermes. I don't actually know if someone can ward against him. He's the god of...something about doors isn't he?"

She did not like thinking of the what ifs, even if it was prudent. Her fingers dug into his shirt and she took a shakeup breath. "Immediately. And freeholds yeah. Hecate she's the keys. They're the ones who make sure no one bit those I invite can enter my home. I'll call them and do whatever it takes. I will never let them hurt you for long. I promise."

With that promise, he buried his face in her neck. "Thank you," he mumbled. It sounded like Hermes and Hecate could actually help. ...hopefully. Patrick had never been a martyr and even though he had tried to throw himself under the bus a few weeks ago, he was fairly sure the Antichrist was right. He would never get through torture like George had. Not like this. Padraig could. Maybe he could have in his past. The way he was now, he would be sobbing in five seconds and begging in fifteen.

"You make me feel so safe," he confided to her.

She would make a note to begin preparations. She wouldn't let some uppity jackass hurt the man she loved, just because of some weird Christian grudge. If it took begging and pleading, she would make sure those she loved would be kept safe. She wasn't above cashing in favors if she needed to either.

Gently she ran her fingers through his hair, ticking off who owed her favors, and who she could beg for them. They wouldn't like it was for a Christian, but they could live with that.

She smiled and leaned her head on his. "Hm. Same for me you know. No arguing, my decision." She closed her eyes and held him close. Christians were powerful, but they'd never endured a Greek with a serious case of vengeance. She knew she could have her family ruin a good many things.

The fact that he made her feel safe made him feel wonderful. He rested his forehead against hers and smiled. "No arguing," he promised. "I like that I make you feel that way. I love you so much. You are everything I was missing."

Hearing him say that gave her fuzzy feelings and she settled her arms around his neck. He wouldn't disappear right in front of her eyes, and she'd ensure that he'd be as safe as possible. It didn't really matter what it would take. "I love you too. You know that. So much. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

"And there's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he replied, because it was absolutely true. He reached his hand up to brush his fingers over her cheek before settling his hand on her hip.

"Are you hungry? We could order in and just try to relax?"

She'd leaned into the touch on her cheek before letting out a long breath. She wasn't really hungry but she should eat. Worrying would get her nowhere. "No." she smiled at him, "but I will be later. Ordering in is fine. Relaxing will take a bit. Everything's a bit..."she trailed off and waved her hands, like that would explain it all. "But I don't regret. Won't ever, okay? No matter what."

"Me neither," he whispered before leaning in to kiss her deeply. He wasn't really hungry either, he was just going through the motions of what he thought he should do. What he really wanted to do was to be distracted. He wanted to take comfort in the things he had; the woman right here in front of him who was giving him absolutely everything he could ever want or need.

That didn't necessarily mean jumping into bed, of course. Especially if she wasn't in the mood. But there was going to be some clinging either way. "Everything is a bit-mmm," and he moved to kiss her neck.

She was a little surprised when he kissed her, but hardly minded. She was thinking far too much for her own good, letting what she was and did be a bad thing rather then a good, and all she really wanted was to make sure he was still here, and everything outside the door couldn't hurt either of them.

But she didn't want to push either. She knew how she coped wasn't always the best way, even if she wanted to take that route. It didn't stop her from closing her eyes and arching her head back. "Oh, like that. And I know. It is. Thinking far too much." She bit her lip. If he said no, she knew she would take the answer. She glanced to him then, "help me stop?"

Patrick stopped kissing her as she spoke, but the moment he asked her to stop thinking, all he was really focused on was getting all of their clothes off as quickly as possible.

"Oh, I will," he breathed before quickly pulling his shirt over his head and then pulling her close so he could kiss her neck again.

Her breath caught when he removed his shirt and she arched into the kisses along her neck. She trusted him, and he was still here and not going anywhere. That was all that mattered.

She let her hands fall to his back, letting her nails press into his skin gently, before looping around his neck again to bring him closer.

Patrick moaned at the feeling of her nails and, distantly, he hoped Kellan wasn't watching. "Bedroom?" he whispered against her skin, and even as he asked, he was already half-leading her in that direction anyway.

She nodded, following him wherever he took her. She didn't care where it was, just as long as it led to him taking her clothes of. She didn't want to think of any threats out there, just him.

"Yes. Please." Then she set her hands in his hair so she could kiss him, still trying not to be too desperate. She didn't want to be that, just grateful.

He moved them into the bedroom carefully, never wanting to stop kissing her for a second. Once they were in the bedroom and the door was closed though, he pulled back just long enough to pull her shirt off too. Then he was pressed up against her again.

Being with her like this was making him feel alive. It reminded him what he had to lose. And he absolutely refused to lose this. He was going to fight anyone who tried to take this away from him, and he hadn't felt that way in a long time. That realisation just made him kiss Clio harder.

She barely registered they'd entered the bedroom until he was pulling her shirt off, and had raised her arms enough to help, before she moaned into the kiss and the feel of his skin on hers.

She couldn't stop touching him. She would kill for this, would do far more then just kill something, and she wouldn't let any silly thing just take it from her for a grudge.

She pulled back enough to take a breath and run her fingers along his cheeks. "Patrick," she whispered, like she could make everything vanish with his name. Then she slid her fingers down to his pants to get those off.

The way she said his name made him growl and he helped her get his trousers off. He wasn't going about this as sweetly as he usually did. It was a little frantic, yes, but mostly it was fueled by his passionate need to feel the connection they had. Nothing could tarnish it or ruin it. It was theirs.

She was far from minding the more frantic turn of this. She loved how sweet he was, but seeing his passionate side always kicked her own in overdrive. And she needed to feel and not think, wanted to assure herself of having this, and that for as long as she existed she wouldn't allow anything to hurt the people she loved. In that, she was eerily like her family.

The fact that she reciprocated everything he did made Patrick try even harder. By the time all was said and done, he was flung across his bed, utterly exhausted and yet completely happy and satisfied.

He reached for Clio's hand so he could tangle their fingers together, though he didn't speak yet. He actually couldn't.

She felt tingly all over, and her head was buzzing and shut off for once. Everything felt wonderful and perfect, even though she was sure that she wouldn't be able to move for quite some time.

Not that she minded at all.

She let her fingers tangle with his when she felt him take her hand. To her it said everything. Even if she could find words, she didn't see them as necessary right now.

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