Who: Veronica and Anthony What: Apologies When: Monday afternoon Where: Anthony's office Warning: Possible language, awkwardness, TBD Notes: Reposted as a favour, orignally posted by Veronica and Anthony
Avoiding Poseidon was easy. Clearly something was bothering him, and she wasn't about to try and figure it out again. Being reminded of the fact that she did find him attractive was enough to keep her from him. She didn't like him, and she wouldn't be a way for him to vent frustrations. She had better things to do, and a son to think of. But now she owed Anthony an apology. A few dates didn't make a relationship, but if she was going to try for this she had to be honest. Lies never suited her.
So she'd found his office and knocked on the door. She'd brought Chinese, just to make this all easier and she'd always said she'd find him if she liked. And he was nice and made her smile, very much not Poseidon or any type of 'bad boy'. Her life needed that.
Anthony hadn't been expecting visitors today. He was up to his elbows in a new case, a missing 18-year-old girl from the neighborhood. Her mother had come in after she'd been missing for four days, disillusioned by the police, who'd told her she was most likely with a friend, and she'd come home when she was ready. Illeana's mother hadn't thought so, however, and so she'd come to Anthony.
He'd taken a lot of notes as she'd talked, places her daughter liked to go, people she knew, where her ex-boyfriend lived. He'd nodded and offered a sympathetic ear, and it seemed to put her at ease that he could converse with her in fluent Italian.
She'd only left about fifteen minutes before the knock came. He got up to answer it, and his face broke out into a smile to see Veronica standing there. "Veronica, hi!" he chirped. Then he spotted the takeout. "Come on in, I'll get us some silverware." He pulled out some paper plates and a couple of sodas too. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
"Come to hunt you down. Told you I would. I left the handcuffs at home though. That seems more of a third date kind of experience," maybe joking like this was a bad idea but it broke the tension she felt. Anthony was nice and normal. And he seemed to like her. She'd be damned if she didn't try.
"That and I figured nobody denies take out, and I wanted to make sure you'd eat." Smiling she walked into the office, glancing around before setting the bag down. "Nice place. I hope I'm not bothering you. I come with a second purpose, which is to apologize. I like you, and I don't want to lie to you."
She took a breath, "s o the take out is to bribe you not to kick me out once I'm done. See thing is, I kind of...slept with someone. This someone being the father of my son. And now I feel like an idiot because I swore not to do that again." Realizing she was babbling she bit her lip, "so that's why I wanted to apologize. I like you, like I said, and I want to at least try and see if this thing between us can go anywhere. Lying will just bite me in the ass later."
He nodded in what he hoped was a sage fashion. "I yield to your judgment in these matters, sensei," he said with a little laugh.
He looked it his watch. Oops. It was a lot later than he'd thought, and his stomach chose that moment to rumble, as if emphasizing the point. "Anyone who denies takeout is not right in the head," he agreed. "And thank you for thinking of me."
He paused in eating out the plates and other things. "I'm going to want to sit down for this, aren't I?" he asked, pulling the chair around from behind his desk and sinking into it.
He listened as she told him she'd slept with Bernie's father again, emotions warring within him, but his face was careful to give nothing away. It hurt, yes, but they weren't together, they'd only been out a few times.
But at the same time, he couldn't really sit in judgment. He'd been keeping the tiny little fact that he was immortal, and a Saint, from her since they'd met.
"I appreciate your honesty," he said. "I really do. And since we're being honest, I have something I need to tell you. And trust me, you're going to want to sit down for this."
He took a deep breath, trying to figure out how best to phrase it. He gave up after a couple tries, and finally just said, "I'm not just a P.I. My real identity, the person I really am...is Saint Anthony of Padua." He chanced a glance at her. "Can I do bombshells, or what?" he asked weakly.
She'd grinned to the comment, "hey at least it's not wax on, wax off right?" She wanted this to get off the right track. She would apologize and work on regaining what trust she may have lost. It was only fair. And she really wanted this to work. If this would be okay she could introduce him to her son.
"I'm going to find whoever invented it and proclaim my undying love to them, and you're welcome. Can't have you wasting away up here." She nodded when he asked to sit down. He hadn't tossed her out when she was done, so she could make it up to him. "I know it's a shitty thing to do, and I want to make amends. You're nice, and I haven't had nice in forever."
She frowned but sat down, hoping he wasn't married. But by the time he was done she hoped he was. A month ago she would have laughed at this and wouldn't have believed him. Now was different. After a moment she just blinked, "you're not kidding are you?"
Groaning she set her hands in her hair, "are you people everywhere? Jesus this is like playing whack-a=mole. Everyone I meet is some sort of weird thing." She felt frustrated. Where had all the normal people gone off to? "Oh shit, I'm hitting on a goddamned Saint." She set her hand over her eyes, "there's a ticket to Hell if I ever saw one."
He smiled. "This is very true," he agreed.
"I'll come with you, I'll be in line right behind you. It's probably one of the reasons I'm still alive," he laughed. "Though I highly doubt I'd waste away," he said, gazing at himself with a somewhat critical eye.
He shrugged one shoulder. "We all make mistakes. Far be it from me to sit on judgment on another person. If I'm as nice as I've been told, dwelling on the past doesn't do any good."
When she finally said something, he let out a huge exhale. "No, I'm really not. I'm not crazy either, I could prove it for you if you'd like."
Now it was his turn to blink. "You people...you mean other immortals? There are quite a few of us here in the city, I had coffee with Lady Liberty a few weeks ago, which isn't something you get to say every day."
He chuckled weakly. "Hey, I object to being called weird. I'm pretty normal, except most of my friends think I have a coffee problem."
He bit his lip, hard. Laughing was not the right response. "First off, said Saint does not mind in the slightest. As for it being a ticket to Hell, I really doubt that. Saint George and Saint Sebastian are married, and Saint Patrick and John the Baptist are dating, if that makes you feel any better."
When he told her of Lady Liberty she made another noise that voiced her disapproval, "the bloody statue?! Jesus fuck." She winced then, she was cursing a name he died for. "Sorry." She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair again, "a few months ago I would have you prove it, or I'd be gently telling you to get help. When my cousin told me, I said the same thing. Go get checked out I said. That was nice of me. Turned out he was right."
She gave a long sigh, "no it bloody well doesn't make me feel right. It's Saint fucking George. The patron Saint to England." She rose to pace a bit before sitting down again. "I'm sorry, I'm very frustrated right now. I've known for a bit. I had a lovely introduction to it all. You see Bernie's father's one of you people." She motioned to him, like it'd explain everything, "but a Greek. Poseidon to be precise. If you know me, this is bad. I mean I'm not the next Medusa yet but he's very...high strung. I don't do well around people who threaten me or think they're better then me. When I'm scared or angry I react in anger. He sprained my wrist for that once."
"And my friend Nat, she used to date the bloody Red Baron and knows other immortals." Calling them 'Gods' was just to weird.
She watched him for some time, before shaking her head. "Can I still think of you as Anthony? Because putting Saint in front of that makes me feel a bit guilty for wanting to kiss you."
"Yup, like the statue," he confirmed with a nod. "Though she definitely looked different the second time we met."
"I could still show you, if you want," he said with a small shrug. "Lose anything you really need back?"
"That's not an uncommon reaction," he replied. "It can definitely be a lot to take in. And let me tell you, waking up with memories of dying can really mess with your head." Oh look, he was babbling again.
He winced. It honestly had been a move on his part to put her more at ease, but it seemed to be having the exact opposite effect. But as she continued speaking, his eyebrows seemed to be trying to climb off his head. "Wow, uhm...that's. That's one way to find out the truth."
When she told him Poseidon had sprained her wrist, a stab of anger flared in his chest. "I don't care who he is, or was. There is no reason for him to hurt you. Ever."
"The pilot?" he asked curiously. "That's kind of cool, I didn't know he was still around. There's no registry, or anything," he finished wryly.
He took her hand gently. "Saint or not, I'm still Anthony. And you can kiss me anytime you want." He finished with a smile.
"Jesus," she couldn't think of anything else to say. Cursing seemed like a good idea. At his suggestion she scoffed, "my sanity?" She shook her head then, "no thank you. It's not really needed."
She sighed, "I imagine so. Still I always promised Bernie I'd get in touch with his father if I ever met him again. I owed him that. When I went to introduce Bernie to him he made this wave thing. Scared me half to death. I thought he was drowning my son."
The reaction made her smile, "I don't think he likes people talking back to him, or demanding things of him. I do. Threatens my life every so often, for kicks. I avoid him when possible. He's one of those people to go through with his threats and I don't need that."
She let him take her hand and managed a smile, "Well it's your turn actually but there should be a bloody registry. Otherwise I'll go mad."
He let the cursing roll off his back. He'd heard worse in his time. And, after all, he'd just told her he was a Saint. It was an odd thing to take in. He just nodded instead. "Alright. Offer stands, should you ever need it."
He raised his eyebrows. "He made a wave? That's...well, weird. Then again, the stories I've read about him had a common theme, and that seemed to be that he was a prick. But at least you kept your promise."
"He threatens you...for kicks," he repeated in disbelief. "Let me amend that: giant prick. If you'd like, I could try and squish him," he said cheerily. "I'm fairly certain I'm stronger than he is, with Christianity being as widespread as it is."
He leaned forward and kissed her softly. "I'll get right on that at the next meeting," he joked.
She gave a small smile, almost scaring herself with how used she was to all this. Like it was normal to have a thing for a Saint. "I'll keep it in mind." She fornwed to the explanation, "it doesn't make much sense. I mean he just made the water rise up and made kind of a wave curtain. It's one of those, you had to be there moments."
She laughed and shook her head, "I think that's Wrath and it's a Sin. But he is a giant prick. I guess he's just used to everyone bowing down to him and taking his shit. I don't have the patience for that kind of nonsense."
She smiled to the kiss and dished out some of the take out, "well now you're not kicking me out and everything is in the open. Is it really how it works? The more widespread something is, the more power behind it?"
He nodded. "I believe it."
He sighed. "I know, but then again, I'm not perfect. And he sounds like he could use a good slap upside the head, at least. And good for you, you shouldn't have to deal with that."
He smiled in return. "Definitely not kicking you out. And I feel a lot better for having been honest." He took his food, settling in to try and explain something even he wasn't completely sure about. "I think it's based in belief," he said. "The more people believe in something, the more power there is. People still invoke the Saints for different things, so if we die, we come back faster and some of us have gifts, like mine. The Greeks aren't worshiped like they once were, so I wouldn't be at all surprised if that little display sapped him of his strength." He shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not even completely sure if I'm right, but that's what I've noticed over the past 7 centuries or so."
She blinked then, "Christ, seven centuries? You're the oldest person I've dated. Poseidon doesn't count." She shook her head, "please don't make me feel insanely young by mentioning that again. There's days where I feel old and then I remember I know people who could know my ancestors."
She frowned as she ate her take out, "but the Greeks are worshiped though. I know pagans who worship them, and history books mention them. And I'm still trying to convince my son he isn't the next Percy Jackson." She smiled at him, "well sadly Bernie likes him so I have to bite my tongue, which brings me to my next offer. If you want, I'd like to invite you for dinner, this time at my place and with Bernie. And obviously you can tell him who you really are, just don't mention your friends. I do not want to have him wanting to be a dragon slayer when he grows up. The poor dog's still recovering from his last attempts."
He bit back a small smile. "I promise, never again. Some days I don't even believe it myself, but then again I'm odd."
He nodded in agreement. "They are, but not nearly to the extent they once were. History books and the pagans are what's keeping them alive, but there isn't a large number of people worshiping and sacrificing to them anymore." He chewed thoughtfully. "And from what I can tell, Percy Jackson is mostly fiction. Although I haven't met any half-mortal, half-god children, so I could be wrong."
"I'd love to," he said with a grin and a little salute. "And since it's your house, you're the boss. Probably best not to mention George, he would only encourage the dragon slaying." His eyes were twinkling with mirth as he said it.
Grinning she set her hand on his. He was immortal and a Saint, but still cute. It wouldn't stop her thinking about him though. "Well you can be odd with me. I just want to think of you as Anthony. I have enough issues with Poseidon."
"I suppose. I don't want to think about any of them in the height of their power. They're bad enough right now." She smirked, "well when you meet my son you can meet one, and technically if Greek immortals are real so are their offspring. Zeus had plenty of hero children after all. I know my son's got a few half brothers in that category." She shook her head then, "no I don't need scorch marks. I mean eventually sure I want to meet more people like you, just when my son realizes it's not something to boast about. Or want. No offense, I don't want a martyr for a son."
"Well that's good, because I tend to be very odd," he said with a little laugh, squeezing her hand in relief. This whole 'telling her he was a Saint' thing could have gone so much worse. "And if it makes you feel more comfortable, I'll just be Anthony."
He nodded. "From what I've heard and read, they were not at all fun to be around when they were pissed off. Makes me glad I wasn't around back then." Then he laughed. "True enough, I guess. Although if I ever find out Camp Half-Blood exists, I might geek out and freak out at the same time."
"Yeah...those might really mess up the room," he agreed. "And since you're the mom, you know best. So I'll hold off on that kind of talk."
He rested his chin on his hand, debating whether or not to tell her. His greatest wish while he was mortal was to be a martyr, to die for his faith. "It's definitely not for everyone," he said quietly. "Though I really wanted to be one when I was still human." He gave a tiny shrug. "And I know that sounds weird, but I was a newly ordained friar seeing the bodies of priests that had died for their faith. And I knew that's what I wanted to do. Although now...I know that if I had, my life would have been radically different, and I really like where I am right now. So I guess things worked out alright."
It probably would have, if she hadn't already been exposed to this kind of weird things. Now she knew and was at least somewhat prepared. She smirked then, "well it's easier to entertain bad thoughts about Anthony. Putting Saint in front of that makes me feel like I should head to confession. Although I think I'd give a priest some worries."
She nodded, "I know. I would have been long dead by now back then. I've too much of a big mouth." She chuckled then, "I would do the same. Although they did some weird things. Like giving eternal virgins children. I'm pretty sure that's against the rules."
"Thank you, at least until he's a bi older and gotten over the entire 'my father's a God' thing. I just hope it doesn't translate to puberty." She raised an eyebrow at his comment, before shrugging. "Different times. Although that puts things in perspective. When I was growing up I wanted to be an astronaut. You wanted to die for your faith. I can't wrap my head around that, mostly because I don't share your faith."
He had to snicker, he couldn't help it. "I'm pretty sure the priests at whichever church you went to would never know what hit them." The image was actually kind of hilarious, he was picturing a Veronica-shaped tornado blowing through someplace like St. Patrick's cathedral, and told her so. The idea made him laugh.
He nodded. "Exactly! Show me where it's written down that Athena ever had children." He paused, realizing he'd probably just let on what an enormous geek he really was. Oh well. She would have found out sooner or later. "You and me both, I tend to flare up and be flippant when I'm upset."
He drew an 'X' shape over his heart. "Though I imagine it's something that might take a while to get used to."
He sighed. "That's for sure. When I was growing up and getting my education, the first Franciscans had just been martyred." He spread his hands in a 'I'm not sure either, just go with it?' gesture. "It is really hard to wrap your mind around," he agreed quietly.
The image was pretty funny, so she couldn't help but laugh. "I'm pretty sure I'd cause heart attacks. I wouldn't want that on my conscience." She was also pretty sure any priest would probably call her a blasphemer for saying what she knew, and she'd probably get kicked out.
She grinned at the comment, "well there was this one time someone tried to assault her and it created a child. Bit like immaculate conception. So she had a child, just not through conventional means. Then again I don't think Greeks know conventional if it hit them over the head."
"You haven't seen me angry yet. I have a lot of tiny rage." She nodded then, "well it's your thing not mine. Can't judge really."
"Then we'll have to keep you away from men of the cloth," he said, trying to nod seriously and knowing he wasn't doing a very good job of it. Quite honestly, it would amuse the hell out of him just to see it once. But he decided against mentioning it.
"Oh, yeah," he nodded, trying to recall. "I think it...it was Hephaestus, wasn't it? I think that's right. But she was still a virgin warrior her entire life. And that is definitely true. Two words: Zeus. Swan." He gave a little shudder.
"Something tells me I don't want to," he said, only half joking. "Tiny rage is often the worst." Then he smiled. "The best principle to live by, I don't care if you're religious or not. Don't judge. I just wish the rest of the world understood that."
Grinning she set her elbow on the desk and her chin on her hand, "no, because that'd count you I think and I like you. And I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be giving me bad ideas. I have to set a good example for my son."
She nodded, "I think so. My Greek mythology is a bit outdated." She laughed then, "or a cloud. Or a bull. If there's one God I can do without meeting it'd be him. Not just because I don't think he knows the word no, but also because I have no desire to have his wife on my back."
"Probably not. The small ones are always the fiercest." She sighed, "a lot of problems could be solved that way. People are stubborn though."
"Well we can't have that, because I like you too," he said with a little smile. "Although you're probably right, I should say something like, 'No, we shouldn't mess with priests even though it'd be freaking hilarious'." He sighed. "The perils of being an adult."
"I tried brushing up on mine when I found out half the pantheon seemed to be running around the city," he replied. "Figured it was best to know what I was dealing with, you know?" He grimaced. "I read he even became a 'shower of gold' once, which...no. Just. No. And from what I can tell, Hera was just vicious."
"They really are," he agreed. "Fear the tiny ones! And they really could, people are just...so short-sighted sometimes, in addition to being stubborn."
She laughed again, "I don't know if you telling me to harass priests is hilarious or just really odd. Then again I can get not liking all of them. I'm just glad I was never a Catholic. Too much hypocrisy in one place for me." She smirked then, "oh please. I'm not an adult either. I like it that way."
Chuckling she rose to clean the empty containers up, handing him a fortune cookie. "Only half? I think it's more then that." She smirked and shook her head, "ew. And she was. Best not to get involved with that mess. I'm done with Greeks."
She sighed and nodded, "We're hard wired to fight with each other I think."
"Let's go with hilarious," he said. "It's possible I'm the only one who thinks so, but then again, as I've said, I'm rather odd, so it all works out." He sighed. "I have issues with the Catholic Church, but that just results in my getting up on my soapbox, which no one wants or needs right now. So we can be non-adults together for now." He beamed at her.
He cracked open the cookie and pulled out the fortune, reading it aloud. "'A thrilling time is in your immediate future'," he read, crunching one half of the cookie as he considered this. He swallowed and groaned. "Don't tell me that, if the rest are even half as crazy as their myths make them out to be, I don't really want to meet them."
"We are, which blows, because to make most things on this planet work, it requires some degree of cooperation, which I think is sometimes forgotten by people," he sighed, sounding both cynical and wistful.
She smirked, "we'll leave the soapboxing for another day. Just know I probably agree with you. I have a lot of issues against institutions like that. Probably because I'm a secret rebel." She smirked then, well he had said not to be an adult.
"You know, you're supposed to add 'in bed' to that. Which I can totally make happen." She winked at him and opened her own cookie. "To one who waits, a moment seems a year." She frowned. "well adding in bed doesn't sound so fun to that one. You get weird things I imagine." She chuckled, "I only have to deal with one. It's enough. My kid loves him though, and it's going to end in disappointment."
She smiled and gathered up all the trash. "Optimism is always appreciated. Anyway I think I've taken up enough of your time."
"Me on my soapbox is a rather weird sight," he agreed. "But it's nice to know someone does. The Church is not infallible, it never has been. Even though I'm sure some would like to believe that." He rubbed a hand over his eyes. Saint or not, he was allowed to have issues with the Church.
He could feel his cheeks heating up. "I've heard that," he said. "But you might have to have a little pity on the poor, inexperienced Saint." And wasn't that a whole different can of worms entirely.
"Sometimes I swear they're making them up," he agreed. "But that one's pretty decent. Waiting for things that you want is never really fun."
"I've met a few of them, a Muse who didn't seem too bad, if a little overly cheery, and a nasty guy who was just...not so fun. They span the spectrum, I guess. But who knows? Maybe things will get better for you guys."
He grinned. "I definitely try. And you don't have to leave if you don't want to. The only other thing I'm doing today is paperwork, and your company is about a million times better than that."
"Alright if you're sure." Smiling she deposited the empty boxes before sitting back down. "I don't have to get Bernie for a few more hours." She shrugged then, "according to what I read they made them more like mortals to make it easier to compare us to them, or visa versa. Who knows?"
She raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "I agree, but taking off all my clothes may be a little too forward you know." And he'd said something about being inexperienced. And I'll take pity. Just means I have to wait a bit. Pity really."
She laughed, "and they do make them up. They haven't been real fortunes in quite some time."
"I'm sure," he said, clearing some papers off his desk and into a file, sliding the file into a drawer. "This is the best kind of distraction from a job that can be very depressing at times."
"The gods, you mean?" he asked. "Sometimes it sounds like they gave a bunch of bratty teenagers superpowers, with no one to watch over them. But like you said, who knows?"
He grinned, ducking his head. "Perhaps," he agreed wryly. "Baby steps for me, I think. And I appreciate that," he added.
"See, why am I not surprised." He laughed too. "And now I wonder who makes them up. These are my thought trains derailing. Look at me go!" He grinned.
She grinned, "I have to say I'm very tempted to hop on the desk a la classical noir film and pretend I can be a femme fatale." She looked down at herself. "Not wearing the right outfit for that though."
"I suppose that's kind of what they are." She tilted her head before smiling, "alright I'll ease on the whole flirting thing. No need to rush this."
She laughed then, "I far from mind."
"Also, there needs to be jazz playing and cigarette smoke hanging in the air," he added. "I have nothing against the first, but the second is right out." He wrinkled his nose in a laugh. "I watch a lot of old detective movies."
"I'm trying to picture Zeus going through puberty, his voice all squeaky," he laughed. "It makes him seem a lot less scary."
He gave her a grateful smile. "I'm actually more thankful for that than you might know," he said.
"Good," he said, smiling. "Because it happens an awful lot."
She laughed at the image, "my dad has a huge thing for them. I spend my months pregnant watching old detective movies and bad soap opera's. It was pretty bad."
The second image just made her laugh again, "oh goodness that's an image. I hope he never asks because I would not be able to keep a straight face. I wouldn't look good being fried by a lightning bolt." Smiling she went to sit on the edge of his desk. "Now I know I am willing to comply to your wishes. Can't do that if I don't know. So let me know if something I do ever bothers you. I try and be a normal person."