Warnings: I shouldn't have to spell this out, but just in case: please don't read the fic if the concept of slash involving a Catholic priest bothers you.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters that I do not own -- I'm just granting them a little unauthorized R&R. Also, it was written for my own fannish amusement and I am not profiting financially from it in any way. So there's no need to get anyone's lawyers in a lather.

Archive: The mash-slash archive, when it's resurrected. Anywhere else, please ask.

Feedback: Yes, please. Constructive crit is welcomed and appreciated.

*** Many thanks to Flick for beta-reading! ***

by iolanthe <iolanthe@cais.com>

Impossible....

I've put myself in an impossible position.

What just happened here in my tent should never, ever have become a possibility, much less a reality.

I'd been so very careful in all our interactions, in both word and deed. And now -- too late -- I have proof that my diligence had been paying off. Until tonight, Hawkeye hadn't even suspected that my regard for him might run deeper than affectionate friendship.

But tonight, in a moment of weakness, I admitted the truth, destroying with one blow the self-protective wall I'd built between us. If only I had lied -- told him that my erotic dream was about a nurse or an actress and not about him....

No.

No, it's foolish to deny it now: I wanted to tell him. From the instant he figured out that I hadn't really been reading a book...alone and breathless in the dark...I wanted him to know. Needed him to understand, and perhaps appreciate, the unwitting effect he'd been having on me all this time. Oh, I made a halfhearted attempt to dodge his questions, but all the while I was praying that he wouldn't be dissuaded and that I could pretend I was forced into revealing the truth.

So you see, in all honesty, I have no one but myself to blame. My own weakness, my own failure, my own sin. Hawkeye need never have known.

Beyond unburdening my soul of its most closely guarded secret, I'm not sure what I hoped to accomplish by telling him. Certainly I never anticipated his reaction.

As fate would have it, he was actually interested. Hawkeye Pierce, a man who could pick and choose among any number of willing nurses, and did so on a regular basis, wanted me.

At least at that moment. Rest assured, I have no illusions about his sudden interest. Before he heard my confession, the thought of being intimate with me had probably never occurred to him. As I continued to remind myself throughout the night, lust, and nothing more profound than that, must have been his primary motive. He'd been drinking, as well, which meant that at least part of his cognitive ability had been temporarily relocated to places other than his brain.

Despite all of that -- and in shameful disregard of my vows, may God have mercy on me -- I let it happen. I closed my eyes, literally and metaphorically, and allowed myself to be seduced by his beautiful voice and the impossible, comforting fantasy he wove for my benefit.

I have to say, I was touched that Hawkeye was so cautious in his approach. Even in his impaired condition, he cared enough to do everything he could to make sure this was what I truly wanted. Had I chosen to call a halt at any point, I have no doubt he would have respected that decision.

But I had no intention of calling a halt. Oh, dear Lord, when he finally kissed me...touched me...I thought I might faint. It felt so good, so right.... Though of course it was unspeakably wrong.

As things progressed, I began to feel even less troubled by conscience -- which is cause for concern in itself. Tonight he asked me to do things that ordinarily would have shocked me senseless, but because it was Hawkeye doing the asking, I tried my best to fulfill each request. Even, it still astounds me to recall, to the point of agreeing to involve a third person in our liaison.

I know that wasn't something he had planned; when Trapper came to the door looking for him, Hawkeye seemed as surprised as I was. For me, however, there was the additional surprise of discovering the true nature of their relationship. When Hawkeye confirmed that he and Trapper sometimes shared a bed, I suffered an unseemly pang of jealousy -- even if I weren't bound by the commitments of the priesthood, there was already someone else ahead of me in line for Hawkeye's affections.

Nevertheless, so far gone was I that my capitulation was quickly secured, and Trapper joined us both in a tangle of decadent physical pleasures.

It is difficult to express in words the emotions this encounter stirred within me, particularly in regard to Trapper's conduct. I don't know what, if anything, Hawkeye told him, but he appeared to understand and respect that -- for me, at least -- this went a bit deeper than a casual fling. Not only did he patiently teach me more than I ever thought I'd learn about pleasuring another man, he also arranged things so that Hawkeye and I had a chance to share something more intimate than we might otherwise have experienced together. No matter what else may come of this, for that I will be forever grateful.

Ah, yes -- what may come of this. Therein lies the impossibility of my position. However tempting it might be to embrace Hawkeye's intimation that it was all just a dream, how can I ignore the grievous nature of what I have done?

I've deliberately broken a sacred vow. There is no excuse and no way around it; promises made to God are nonnegotiable. I could try to pretend it never happened, and I might even be able to fool myself for a while, but I cannot hide my sins from God. All I can do is pray for His forgiveness and resolve never to repeat the offense.

The trickier problem, you must have guessed, is that I desperately want to repeat it. And such is my weakness for this man -- for Hawkeye -- that, given another opportunity, I fear I would end up repeating it.

Lying here in bed, after long, sleepless hours of prayer and internal debate, I have reached the reluctant conclusion that there is only one possibility left open to me. Only one safe answer.

Later this afternoon, I'm going to meet with Colonel Blake and request an immediate transfer.

TBC...

© February 2003