AC 205

Quatre sat down at the lunch counter in the diner, just a bit disgusted at the dingy condition of the room. He didn’t show his reservations about the place, though; he kept his expression passive and bored, as he was used to doing. The waitress approached him, and he nodded after her: "Coffee."

Quatre looked around, annoyed at himself for giving in and coming to a place like this. He was the head of the Winner Corporation! He shouldn’t have to put up with this sort of thing. The pilot had said that repairs to the shuttle would take at least an hour. Well, there was nothing to be done about it. Quatre only hoped he would make it to the meeting on time – his father was counting on him to make this deal, and it was very important that everything went smoothly.

Quatre looked up as the door to the diner opened, and a young man in preacher’s clothing walked in. He sat down at the counter a few seats away from Quatre and ordered two cups of coffee. Quatre studied the newcomer out of the corner of his eye: violet eyes, short chestnut hair, and a pointy little nose. The waiter placed Quatre’s coffee in front of him, and he sipped it slowly, watching the young priest with mild interest. It wasn’t often that Quatre got the chance to see common people in an everyday setting, and he was curious.

The priest received his own two cups of coffee, but did not drink yet. A minute later, an elderly man, also in the garb of a priest, entered the diner and took a seat next to his younger companion, accepting one of the steaming cups with a nod and a smile. Quatre watched as the two men finished their drinks, and the younger one said, "Are you hungry, Father?"

The older one shook his head. "No, I don’t think we have time for that. The shuttle is supposed to leave in twenty minutes. We should already be boarding, in fact."

Quatre had a sudden thought, and seeing an opportunity to initiate a conversation, said, "You wouldn’t happen to be taking the flight B-97, would you?"

Both priests looked at him. The older one said, "Yes, actually. Then I take it you are as well?"

Quatre took another sip of his coffee before answering. "They’re having some technical problems. They’re going to be delayed about an hour."

"Oh no, I hope it’s nothing serious!" said the younger priest.

"I certainly hope not," answered Quatre. "I’ve got a very important meeting to get to, and I can’t be delayed." He rose from his seat, deciding to go check on the progress of the shuttle repairs. He left money for the coffee, and exited the diner, hands in his pockets.

An hour later, as passengers boarded the shuttle and stowed their luggage beneath the seats, the two priests made their way down the aisle took their place near the back of the compartment. The older man eased himself into his seat with a sigh, and leaned his tired head back on the upholstered cushion. His young companion sat down next to him, and began drumming his fingers on the arm of his seat.

The elderly priest looked over at him. "Anxious, my Son?" he asked knowingly.

The younger man didn’t try to hide his nervous state of mind from the Father; years of experience had taught him that that was useless. "Yes, Father."

The old man put a worn hand on top of the other’s. "Do not worry, my Son. The good Sister is with the Lord, we need not mourn."

"I’m just afraid we’ll be late for the service, that’s all." He looked down the aisle, watching as the businessman that they had met earlier in the diner boarded the shuttle, a briefcase tucked under his arm. The young priest snorted. "I hope he gets to his meeting on time," he muttered.

The old priest laughed. "Please try to relax, my Son. You would do well to be rested when we reach our destination."

The other nodded. "Yes, I suppose you’re right, Father." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "I’ll try to relax."

"That’s right," said the Father. "Think of Sister Helen and be happy for her."

The young man nodded. "I’ll try," he said.

Father Maxwell smiled. "Sleep well, Duo."