At What Price?

Dammit Hanna. I almost had him. Why did you have to come in at that time?

"Chesh? Is you upsed?"

Hearing Hanna's quiet voice made him steel his emotions and fake a smile as he carried him into the kitchen. Setting him down on the counter, Church shook his head and got busy getting everything ready to make breakfast.

"No."

Hanna pursed his little lips and kicked his feet in thought, but then ended up dropping the subject.

Good.

He wasn't having the birds and bees conversation with a two year old... mainly because Michael and him can't technically make any birds together... or bees.

"Can has lots of chogalate chips?"

"Sure. Here, hands."

Hanna reached out his hands toward him after Church got the batter in the pan to begin cooking. He held open the bag and let him dig into it, grabbing two tiny fistfuls of chocolate chips before he nodded towards the pancake, because, of course, his hands were heading straight for his mouth.

"In the pancake, you," Church chided, watching him pout, but do as told. When his hands were empty Church scooted him over towards the sink and turned on the water before grabbing a paper towel and wetting it.

"Hands again."

Hanna offered him his hands and Church quickly wiped them off, then let him take the chocolaty paper towel before turning back to flip the pancake. That's when he heard him gasp and begin to whimper.

When Church turned back around he noticed Michael tossing the paper towel in the trash, earning a glare.

"Really?"

He looked up at that, his face immediately changing from a warm tan to a hot cherry red.

Mmm, I like that.

"Yes. He doesn't need to eat that."

Church rolled his eyes but Michael just turned toward the entrance to the kitchen and bent over to pick up the puppy. And yes, Church was staring right at what had been going to be his only a few minutes earlier.

Again, dammit Hanna!

As soon as Hanna saw the puppy he squealed, making Church's ears want to bleed. Knowing that he'd jump off the counter if he didn't set him down soon, he quickly reached over and put him on the floor.

"Mats! Wants to pway wif Mats!"

His little hands were reaching up, grabbing the air as Michael grinned and leaned down to hand him the dog. The second he had the puppy in his arms Hanna was running out of the room, dragging the poor animal's backside on the floor... though it didn't seem to care much.

"I think you got a mentally challenged mutt," Church grumbled at the preacher while turning to get the pancake on the plate and work on a new one. He could feel eyes on him in seconds, making his body come alive with lust. He really should know better after what had just happened.

Tempting a demon never ends well... for the temptress.

"Here, let me do that. You're still recovering," Michael said quietly. His voice trailed off as he inched his way closer, reaching for the handle of the pan. Church let him take it, only to duck behind him and wrap his arms around his waist.

His skin wasn't burning where it touched Michael's so he didn't hesitate to begin rubbing himself against his backside. It sucked that he was wearing boxers now, but they were at least his, which made it somewhat just as good.

It felt like both meanings of the word sinful.

"S-stop."

He was rubbing against him from behind but indirectly making him rub against the darn oven.

"Dammit, Church!" Michael hissed, hoping that Hanna was still in the other room and hadn't heard him.

"Tsk. A cussing priest? So naughty..." Church whispered in his ear, making a shiver run down Michael's body. He winced and ground his teeth together, feeling himself become stiff without meaning to. While he would normally be praying and hopefully getting his religion back enough to force him away, he decided to take an alternative route that might have a better affect.

Turning abruptly, he jerked his knee up and caught him right between the legs as his fist came up and sideways, punching his cheek, hard. He knew that it wouldn't ground him for long but it still felt pretty darn good seeing him drop to the floor, holding his boys.

"I might have become misguided, but that doesn't mean you can take advantage of me."

Church growled in response as Michael turned and removed the now-burning pancake from the stovetop, then turned off the heat.

"Obviously, you're feeling just fine with your gunshot wounds so I'm going down to the church to fix something I shouldn't have messed up."

While he was still seriously curious about how he'd gotten shot, he was much more interested in getting his holiness back. If he wasn't pretty sure that he'd eat the dog if he took Hanna along, he would have offered to bring him. As it were, Michael stomped over to his suitcase by the sofa and pulled on a pair of black dress pants and a white shirt, then headed for the door.

"Bye!"

He decided to walk since he was limited on gas money until Church paid him... or fired him for kicking him between the legs.

On hindsight, that probably wasn't my best idea.

In other news, two demons were killed and a third shot last night during a planned police operation. There are several more scheduled throughout the month at unreleased times and dates in the hopes that the demon population will become aware that humans will not take their attacks lying down any longer.

There was a loud group surrounding him where he'd stopped in front of the large TV hung on the corner to promote the television shop behind it. Everyone was cheering, but he just didn't feel it in him to copy them.

Church had been one of the ones shot last night. He got away, but the other two hadn't.

He was tempted to call him but, he was already safe. His wounds had definitely healed enough for him to harass him with his libido, so he was just fine. Nodding his head, Michael walked down the street and up the steps of the church. One thing he noticed the second he stepped inside was an unusual pressure on his body. It felt like the room had its own atmosphere and it didn't want him.

"Hey, Michael!"

Willem, one of the stand-in preachers and general workers, walked over to him with a huge smile on his face. His hand was out, offering it. Michael returned his gesture, or at least tried. The smile worked, but the second their hands met he felt a harsh burn in his fingers and yelped, jumping away as he shook his hand out to stop the pain.

What in god's name?

Willem's face mirrored his for a moment... before it turned dark.

"Michael?"

His voice held disbelief and anger. Two things he didn't usually see together.

"W-Willem, I-I..."

"You what? Worship the devil now!"

His shouting caught the attention of several people who had been conversing near the entrance to the main prayer hall. Michael hoped that they wouldn't come over, but he knew a few of them, so their curiosity took over and brought them next to Willem.

"What is wrong, Willem?" Barry, one of the regular worshippers and volunteers, asked.

Willem sneered at him and stepped forward, making Michael automatically step back in fear of being burned again.

"He is no longer holy! Observe!"

Before he could think otherwise he was reaching out and catching the bible he all-but threw at him. The second the book touched his hands it burned like hell, forcing him to drop it with a loud hiss. The look on Barry's face quickly morphed to match Willem's, making his heart drop.

"I-I didn't turn him away! I still believe in him! I never wavered in my faith!"

They looked at each other, then a few whispers were exchanged before Willem and Berry gestured him forward. He honestly thought that they'd just throw him out, but if there was even the slightest chance to stay, he would do anything they asked. They walked back into Willem's office and he heard Berry shut the door behind him.

"You know what must be done, Michael."

His brows furrowed in confusion... before he realized what they meant and a cold sweat broke out along his body. Willem already had the carved wooden cross in his hand and was walking back around to the front of his desk. Michael's feet began stepping backward, but Berry grasped his shoulders, holding him still as heat pooled beneath the fabric where the man touched him.

"Michael... take your shirt off."

With shaking hands he did as told, holding it tightly in his left hand while his body began to shiver in fear.

"Kneel."

It wasn't until around four in the afternoon that the front door finally opened and he could hear Michael walk in. Well, it sounded more like he was dragging himself...

Church looked over toward the small hallway after shoving the annoying puppy away for the hundredth time. When he saw him his eyes went wide, then he realized something else.

Smoke. He smells like he's been burned.

"Michael?"

The man stopped when he said his name and looked up... only to fall a moment later. Being the idiot that he evidently was, Church reached out to grab him and burned the hell out of his hands.

The bastard had actually done it.

He wasn't too surprised, but the burning sensation in his hands was much worse than the previous times. Before it had just been painful, but this time it felt like his hands were being seared off. Upon looking at them, he realized that they were actually damaged pretty badly.

"Damn priest."

Being extremely careful not to touch bare skin, Church rolled him over and tore his shirt open.

"Holy shit."

A dark purple and red burn, which must have been third degree, dug into his left upper chest. The perfect outline of a cross splayed over the previously smooth, soft skin just over his heart.

How. Dare. They.