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This was inspired by Raven's March 7, 2003, five-minute fic challenge: "You don't want--" It doesn't technically count as an answer to the challenge, as it took way longer than five minutes, but I consider finishing any fic in less than a day enough of a challenge for me. :)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters that I do not own. 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.

Feedback: As always, constructive crit is welcomed and appreciated.

Archiving: Fair game for the mash-slash archive, whenever it's resurrected. Anywhere else, please ask.

by iolanthe <iolanthe@cais.com>

"You don't want to switch places with me, my son," Father Mulcahy gently informed the young man sitting across from him. "Not really. You're not even Catholic, are you?"

Radar O'Reilly fidgeted in the hard wooden chair. He was now regretting his spur-of-the-moment decision to visit the chaplain's tent, but at the time it had seemed like a good idea. If he was going to talk about this problem at all, he wanted to talk to someone who knew how to keep a secret. "No, Father. But I could...y'know...convert."

Concerned, Mulcahy frowned. "Do you truly feel you've been called?"

"I dunno." Radar hung his head. "I don't think so."

"Then, why this sudden interest in the priesthood?"

"Well, I just thought maybe, if I was a priest -- if I was more like you -- I wouldn't have to deal anymore with stuff like the stuff I'm going through right now."

Mulcahy lowered his voice, as if to sound more reassuringly confidential, and leaned in closer. "Please, Radar -- tell me what it is that's really troubling you. What 'stuff' are you having to deal with?"

Radar paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to approach such a touchy subject, and decided he'd better work up to it slowly. "See, there's this person I sorta...like. I mean, a whole lot. And I think they like me back. But nothing can ever happen between me and...them."

"Oh, dear," said Mulcahy, with great sympathy. "Is it safe to assume, then, that this person is married?"

"Yeah." Radar nodded sadly. "But that's not the reason nothing's gonna happen."

"Oh?" The chaplain's confusion was obvious. "Then why...."

"Because this person...he's a he. And so am I."

Mulcahy fell silent, simply staring at Radar, and Radar began to fear that his confessor had gone into shock. "Father?" he ventured, after several minutes had passed.

A few rapid blinks, a little shake of his head, and Mulcahy was back. "Forgive me, my son. You just...surprised me. I didn't realize that you were.... Well, I didn't realize."

Now that he'd revealed his deepest, darkest secret, Radar was eager to offer more details. "The thing is, Father, I don't know for sure that I am...that way. I mean, I still like girls, too. But this person, he's kind of...I dunno...special."

"I see."

"So now you see why I'd rather be in your shoes, right? I'm all confused -- and I don't want to worry about this kind of stuff anymore."

Mulcahy straightened in his chair, and the concerned frown reappeared. "Radar, it's quite understandable that you're confused. You're young, and you're still...discovering things about yourself. But I can assure you that becoming a priest won't help you in the way you hope it will."

"It won't?"

"It won't erase the feelings you have for that special person. It won't make you immune from temptation. That has to come from inside you, whether you've taken vows or not."

Radar was wide-eyed with curiosity. "Does that mean even you sometimes get tempted, Father? You get these feelings, too?"

"Yes...I do," Mulcahy answered softly, after a moment's hesitation. There was a wistful note in his voice that made Radar a bit uncomfortable, and he decided there were maybe some things about the chaplain that he was better off not knowing.

"Wow," he breathed. "I didn't think it worked like that. I thought you never had to worry about...that stuff."

"I'm a man like any other, Radar. Prayer can help, up to a point, but God hasn't granted me special powers of resistance in matters of the heart." Mulcahy placed a hand on his chest for emphasis. "As I said, the strength to resist has to come from within."

"D'you think I can ever have strength like that, too? Or do you either got it or you don't?"

Smiling warmly, Mulcahy reached out to pat Radar on the shoulder. "I think you already have the strength, my son. You've not acted on these feelings thus far, have you?"

"Yeah, that's true. But I'm awful unhappy...and I think he is, too."

"I know. Believe me, I know how very difficult this can be...but it will get easier with time."

"Okay. You know I trust you, but I just wish you could put that in writing for me."

Mulcahy chuckled. "I'd have it signed, sealed, and notarized, if I thought it would be of any help."

Radar smiled as he rose from his chair. "Thank you, Father. For setting me straight about the priest thing, anyway."

"Then my job here is still safe?" Mulcahy teased. "I won't need to start brushing up on Morse code so I can take over for you?"

"Yeah, I think I'll stick with what I've got. For now."

With a somber nod, and strengthened resolve, Radar took his leave.

END

© March 2003