Eric felt the hair on his neck prickle a warning and he didn't even look up from his studies as he spoke. "Good afternoon, Uncle Max."
"You can't have her."
At this, Eric looked at his visitor, around the parsonage and then back at Maximillian. "Why haven't you burst into flames?"
"Very funny. She's one of mine," he said bluntly.
Eric tossed his pen down and leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands together behind his neck and stretched. "Last I heard, even among your kind, there is such a thing as free will."
"Sarah's not my kind, she's a *servant*."
"Well, that's outside my purview, but I heard her clearly say 'was a prostitute', meaning in the past. Sarah's not one of yours any more."
"Nonsense, I was merely giving her a bit of rope, to make the reeling in so much sweeter."
Eric laughed sourly. "Sweeter, you're kidding me, right?"
"I never kid about these things. What are you doing here? Where is here, anyway?"
"If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you. Not that you need to know, anyway."
Maximillian conjured a chair, and sat in it backwards, leaning towards his errant great-grand-nephew. "Eric, Eric, Eric. What would your grandfather think if he were to see you here, slumming as a Lutheran Minister?"
"Does it look I care?"
"Not really, just curious. What *are* you doing?"
"I'm tending to my flock, same as you."
"What would your flock say if they knew who you really were?" Max's eyes burned with a peculiar green light, vicious in its intensity.
Eric leaned forward and laid his hands flat on his desk. "Are you threatening me, Uncle Max?" He said in a mild tone of voice. He didn't really want to have open war fare again, but if this was Maximillian's intent, Eric would do what he had to do.
Maximillian grinned, the same grin that Eric saw in photographs of himself. "If I can't have her, I can still make her life a living hell-- it's rather my specialty. Sarah might have broken the lead, but there are others..."
"What have you done?"
"Not much, just a word here and there. I'm pretty sure that she's having a rotten afternoon, what with being served child custody papers. Shame, that-- she'll never keep the child once the court finds out what she used to do for a living."
"Bastard." Eric said coldly.
"No, I think that's *you*. Batariel could never keep it in his pants."
"That sort of thing doesn't pass from generation to generation. As nice as it's been to catch up with you, Uncle -not- I really must be running." Eric stood, closing his books and shrugging into his coat.
Maximillian chortled even as he vanished, the chair going up in flames behind him.
"Asshole." Eric vanquished the flames with a wave of his hand as he left the parsonage. He has to run an errand over in Elmo, and he might run into Sarah.
Things are going to work out just fine.
Fandom: Men In Trees/Earth Angels
Category/Rated: Gen, E
Year/Length: 2007/ ~500 words
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, only having fun.
Author's Notes: A deliciously perverse snippet written after Nick Lea appeared as a Lutheran minister on Men In Trees.
Beta: Surely you jest?!