Time, time, time, see what's become of me... "Hazy Shade of Winter," Simon & Garfunkel

Jude hadn't left the hallowed halls of the Vatican cloister in so long, she found the manic traffic of Rome unnerving. It didn't help that Eunice was driving the tiny car - whipping them between other cars on cobblestone streets densely populated by tourists. The angel was a surprisingly aggressive driver. "Sposta! Il tuo stupido figlio di puttana!" She shouted out the window, waving two fingers at a passing Vespa. "Vaffanculo!"

Jude and Timothy, reluctantly in the backseat together, held onto their respective door handles for dear life. "I didn't know you spoke Italian, Eunice." Timothy observed, trying to smile through his sheer terror.

"Only curse words really!" Eunice shouted back. She laid on the horn. "Tua madra ha dato alla luce un dannato ritardo!"

"I didn't know she could drive," Jude muttered.

"I don't think she can." A particularly sharp turn slammed the priest into the nun. "Sorry!" But they gave up on trying to right themselves and simply braced against one another for the duration of the brief ride.

They were tense and slightly bruised when they reach Fiumicino. The airport was busy with travelers. In the dropoff lane, Eunice handed them their coats from the front seat. "It's gonna be colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra in Boston," she explained. "And you don't even wanna know about Fargo."

Eunice opened the trunk and Timothy extracted their luggage. When Jude reached for her two cases, he stopped her. "I'll carry them. If you'll allow me, Sister Judith."

She squinted at him, sussing ulterior motives. She could find none at the moment. "And they say chivalry is dead."

"It has a second life."

Eunice watched this exchange curiously. "Your flight out of Boston is early in the morning, so you'll want to get to bed pretty early. I'll pick you up at Logan in a few hours."

Jude nodded, already tired. The anxiety of the drive and the feel of Timothy Howard's body pressing against hers in the car had done a number on her. She looked forward to sleeping through the flight. They started into the airport, checking the gate number on their tickets. A sidelong glance told her the priest was exhausted, too. The dark circles beneath his eyes told many stories. Jude reminded herself she didn't give a fuck about those stories. Or this man - the one who was chatting in easy Italian with an attendant at check-in.

"They can get us on an earlier Pan Am flight, but it means a run through the airport." He looked down uncertainly at her black patent heels (not at her long, shapely legs).

Jude followed his eyeline. "Are you implying that I can't run in heels?"

"I'm not certain about the mechanics of such precarious instruments."

"You don't know me at all. Take the earlier flight. And try to keep up."

She was quick as hell in those heels. And her deep red dress swayed prettily as she ran. He was glad they traveled in lay clothes; keen to avoid the usual stares and snickers. He couldn't imagine a public reaction to a Dominion habit. But even weaving through crowds Jude was graceful. Timothy was winded by the time they reached the gate. They waved madly at the flight attendant who was closing the boarding door and were swiftly seated.

Jude took the window. Timothy stretched beside her. "This is very nice."

"Have you flown first class befar?"

"No." He smirked. "But...I was never with a Dominion nun before."

"Huh." She settled her coat in the overhead atop her bags and extracted the dossiers from her oversized purse. "Here."

"Thank you." They read for a time in silence, faces a mess of concern and disbelief. After a smooth takeoff, they were airborne and Jude was studying the landscape below.

"Over a hundred successful exorcisms." Timothy shook his head. "An impressive career she had."

"How many under yar belt?"

He blinked. "Perhaps...20? Honestly Eunice keeps better track than I."

"All successful?"

"Yes." There was something strained in his answer. "I have to be successful."

"Ambitious as always."

"No. Not ambitious. Punished."

She pursed her lips. "I see."

"And you?" He set aside the dossier to order coffee from the passing trolley. "How many?"

"Eleven." She ordered coffee, as well. "On my own. But I've lost count of the ones we use far training."

"I truly look forward to working with you, Sister Judith. I think we can guarantee success with our combined knowledge and efforts."

"We'll see." Jude let down her tray table and prepared her coffee. She felt Timothy's curious eyes on her. "What, Fathah?"

"You teach the Arcanum Dictata."

"Mmhm." She sipped hot coffee.

"Forgive me. I'm fascinated. The Dominion is such a...secretive society within a secretive society. I suppose I'll never really know the -"

"What do ya want to know?"

Seeing that she was willing to talk animated him. He turned toward her, hands speaking alongside mouth. "Do you teach it in a classroom? Is there a special book? Certainly it can't be taught all at once. I mean, seven sins would require -"

"Seven nuns. We each have a specialty. There are no classrooms. There are no limits."

"Ah! I see. What is your specialty, then?"

She raised a brow at him. "Guess."

He didn't hesitate. "Wrath."

Her laughter rang. She slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle it. "No. Only at you. Sister Anastasia teaches wrath. I once saw her throw a statue of St. Joseph at a tourist far taking the Lord's name in vain."

"She sounds qualified."

"Definitely." A smile threatened her lips. She reminded herself she hated this man. "Try again."

"Gluttony."

"Why would you guess that?" She snapped.

Timothy shrugged, relaxing. "Your cooking. It always made me feel gluttonous."

"Oh." She paled a bit at the memory that conjured. "No. That's Sister Corsini. Her cannolis are genuinely orgasmic."

"That sounds divine." He thought again, tapping his lip. Jude looked away from the lip. "I suppose you could tea-"

"Lust, Fathah." She ended the game succinctly. "I teach lust."

His cheeks went pink. "Ah." A slow nod. "Well." Jude looked away, assuming that would be the end of this line of questioning. She flipped a page in her dossier and began to read a police report. "How um..." She looked over at his hesitant voice. "How does one...teach...lust exactly?"

Her gaze suggested he might be dim witted. She licked her lips and leaned into his space, whispering. "How do you think?"

"I need the loo!" He was out of his seat so fast she might have thought something bit him.

Jude chuckled as he made his way down the narrow aisle.

She was innocently reading when he returned. He resumed his reading, as well, despite being uncomfortably distracted. So the conversation was ended. Jude was fine with that. It was easier to hate him in silence. Talking to him made him seem almost human. Almost changed. And she knew he wasn't either of those things.

It was dark outside the plane. She could see stars close enough to touch. Staring out the window, she started to drift. Closed her eyes.

"Sister."

"Hm?"

"You don't...sleep with all of them."

"No." She heard the relief in his sigh and grinned. "We don't sleep much at all." He coughed. She sat up, shaking her head awake. "It's different far everyone, Timothy. Some of them are already...familiar. Some of them are even quite well studied. But the newer ones - the younger ones - typically need more...hands on instruction."

"I see." He chewed his lip. "So...Brother Michael, for example. He will -"

"He's already begun."

"Ah. And you..."

"Fathah." She faced him squarely, pushed a braid behind an ear. "Do you really want to know this?"

"No." He shook his head. "You're right." She settled back into her seat, ready to drift again. Timothy chewed the other side of his lip. "Sister. I'm sorry. Truly. I know that it's a matter of privacy but -"

"Yes. I fucked Brother Michael. Twice now. And I'll do it again when I return. He's promising. I fuck most of them. I'm very good at what I do."

"Gods." She could see the disbelief on his face. "Do you - do you feel anything for them?"

"If I'm lucky I feel great. If not, I remembah it's my job and move forward."

"And - and them?"

"They leave. I nevah see them again. I hope they remembah their lessons fondly."

"I suppose I don't see the connection."

"The connection between..."

"The act and the lesson learned. What is the lesson, Sister?"

Jude took a deep breath. "Timothy. Before...Sister Mary Eunice - the demon inside her, I mean - before she took yar virtue, did you understand lust? Had you evah felt it? Thought a sexual thought? Had a wet dream? Hm? Anything?"

He floundered a bit. "I knew what lust was. And of course I'd...had sexual thoughts. I viewed those things as challenges to my faith."

"Perfect." Jude slapped her knees, satisfied. "Yar faith was challenged and you defeated the challenges. All the while feeling guilty and tortured and curious and -"

"But Ju - Sister Judith, that is one of the roots of our very faith! Being virtuous and pure."

"It's ignorance, Timothy. We avoid the Cardinal Sins because we fear they will cause us to go to Hell. But we know bettah, ourselves, don't we? That Hell is what you make it. And it's different far everyone. And sin is subjective. So we want our exorcists as knowledgeable as possible. As experienced as possible. Because the demon will use lust against us. Especially if it recognises a weakness. So far me, and far the Dominion's trained exorcists...it's not a weakness. We don't leave cracks in the walls."

"I believe the devil will find a way, Sister."

"And we'll fight that challenge, too." Jude produced a pack of cigarettes. Lit one. "We can only do our best to prepare them."

"Do you believe Brother Michael is prepared?"

Jude grinned ironically. "No. He has much to learn. He's only scratched the surface." She opened up the ashtray on her armrest. "They're not all as jaded and embittered as you are. Haven't had the advantage of meeting the devil already."

"That's an advantage now?"

"In our line of work. Don't you think so?"

"I don't know." He leaned back in the seat. Her cigarette smelled wonderful. He hadn't smoked in days. Dug for his own battered pack in his jacket pocket. "I suppose it is. Just...not so much for us."

"Does it make you lose respect far me?" Not that it mattered. It shouldn't have mattered to her. "The fact that I have sex with them?"

"No." He answered honestly. "I have the utmost respect and admiration for the Dominion." But he did feel something. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. "And...I've always known you to be a strong, intelligent person."

Jude snorted. "That explains a lot." She tamped out her cigarette and turned away from him. Closed her eyes again.

Timothy watched her face relax in sleep. She'd changed. Less the severe, stressed expression he'd once known at Briarcliff. This singularly braided blonde was confident and certain. She was beautiful. He could see the attraction those young priests would have to her. Could see their hands moving over her skin. Their mouths open over her pulse. Their fingers tangling in gilded curls.

He shook the images. It wouldn't do. Time had changed both of them, but he wasn't certain Jude would see the change in him. And for some reason, that made him feel gutted.

He dreamed of her as he fell asleep beside her...