Chapter Text
Will is sitting in the tastefully decorated waiting room of Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier, his new psychiatrist. He has never been to a psychiatrist before—in fact, he hasn't even been to a doctor since childhood—so he is a bit nervous. Dr. Du Maurier's receptionist, a woman of about his age with a brunette bun and glasses, cannot take her eyes off him. He gives her a quick smile before returning to pretend to read a magazine. When the door to the waiting room opens, an utterly beautiful woman with long blonde hair and alabaster skin comes into view. She is dressed in a white frilly blouse and an elegant maroon skirt with a matching jacket and high-heeled shoes of the same color. "Good afternoon. You must be Will Graham. Please, come in."
Will gets up and sets foot in Dr. Du Maurier's office. Bookshelves and fine art decorate the room. There is a heavy mahogany desk, a maroon couch, as well as two comfortable fancy leather chairs standing in the middle of the room, about ten feet apart, facing each other. Bedelia smiles at her new patient. "What do you prefer? The chairs—or maybe the couch?" "I think the chairs are good, Doctor", he responds before sitting down in one of them.
Dr. Du Maurier sits down in the other chair. She opens his folder, perusing the contents. "So", she says slowly as she flips through several papers. "When you made the appointment, you said you need a psychological evaluation for your job, is that right? And even a physical examination, too. I used to be a surgeon at John Hopkins in my younger years, so I can help you with that as well if you want. It says here you are a Catholic priest?" she looks up.
"Yes, Doctor", he says with a somewhat forced smile, pointing towards his Roman collar.
"And why do you require a psychological evaluation, Father Graham?"
He does not hide the fact that he is wondering the same thing. "For the last three years I served in the missions on a remote island in the southern Pacific. Recently the Church has called me back home, and before giving me a new assignment in a parish, they want to make sure that I am of healthy mind and body."
"I see," Bedelia says, wondering what might have happened on that island for the Church to deem that necessary. The thought intrigues her—as if his appearance wasn't intriguing enough. Will is a gorgeous young man, with a kind and beautiful face, chocolate-colored wavy hair and dreamy baby-blue eyes. Her pen clacks as it strikes paper softly in rhythm to her voice. "A man of God—how fascinating. I must admit, you are my first 'patient of the cloth', Will." A small smile curls on her lips. Her curiosity was certainly aroused; she decided to play with this puppy a little. Standing up from her chair gracefully in one fluid motion, she walks around it, getting something from her desk. "Please bare your chest and abdomen for me."
Will is caught completely off guard by this. "Um, excuse me?"
Bedelia turns around, the faintest of smiles on her face. "Your examination, dear," she repeats slowly. "The Church wants you evaluated and we should do as she asks, don't you think?" she adds while maintaining seductive eye contact.
"... oh", he whispers. "I... I guess I just thought we would start with the psychological part of the examination." Once more he forces a nervous smile. "I was just not expecting it."
To Bedelia's great delight, Will begins to blush like a schoolgirl at her first visit to the gynecologist. He gets up from his chair and pulls out the tab collar before taking off his shirt slowly. Beneath it, he wears a simple white t-shirt. He hesitates, not daring to look at his elegant psychiatrist, before finally pulling it over his head. The young priest has a slim but toned physique, with strong arms and shoulders and a flat stomach. His chest is hairless, but a trail of silky dark hair leads from his navel downwards before disappearing into his black pants. He awkwardly holds his left arm with his right hand in front of his body, as if trying to hide as much of it from his doctor as he can.
What a waste for this man to choose a life of celibacy. Bedelia's gaze lingers at the hair trail, the sight of which stirs up forbidden feelings, and she catches herself imagining where it leads. Outwardly, she maintains an air of professionalism, acting as if his state of undress has no effect on her. Which is a lie—the man's body is incredible, and the good doctor wants to touch it, taste it, claim it for herself.
Will feels very self-conscious. Even while serving on the island in the Pacific with its hot climate, he did not like to expose skin publicly. When he used to go for a swim in the sapphire-blue ocean, he made sure to go early in the morning, so that people would not see him. Unbeknownst to him, his habit of swimming at this early time of day was well known amongst the natives. And as he prayed Lauds on the beach in his swimming trunks after his swim, the girls (and some boys) from the surrounding villages often came and watched the beautiful foreigner from their hiding places.
"Remove your arms", Dr. Du Maurier says softly, her voice a seductive purr that makes Will shiver. She takes a stethoscope out of a desk drawer and walks towards him, putting on the almost motherly expression she uses when dealing with fragile patients—or men that need breaking in as playthings. "Please."
He does as he is told and removes his arms, letting them hang down at his sides. Her eyes roam over the young man's body as she listens to his heartbeat with the stethoscope, standing so close to her patient that Will can feel her breath on his skin. "Your heart is beating fast," she says. "Do you often have an elevated heartrate?"
"I... um.... I think I might just be nervous, Doctor."
Bedelia smiles at him kindly. "I understand." She moves the stethoscope and listens to his lungs. "Breathe deeply for me, please." While listening to his breathing, her right hand gently presses on his lower abdomen, presumably for professional reasons. He shudders slightly as he feels her fingers on his skin. When she finally withdraws, she sets the stethoscope down on her desk. "I can tell that the examination makes you a bit uncomfortable, so let's take a break, shall we? Why don't we sit back down and talk for a bit."
Will is grateful for the reprieve and is about to pick up his shirt to get dressed as she stops him. "Leave that. We will have to continue the physical part of your examination eventually, and leaving your shirt off might help you acclimatize to the situation." She sounds so professional while saying it that he does not dare to object and sits back down on his chair. The leather feels strange on his naked skin.
Dr. Du Maurier takes her seat again, a satisfied smile playing around her lips as she watches Will squirm in his chair. She wonders if he realizes that the piece of furniture costs much more than several months of his humble salary. She restarts the conversation casually enough. "How long have you been serving in the priesthood?"
Will fights the instinct to cover up his chest. "I was ordained five years ago. I worked the first two years as spiritual adviser in a Catholic high school here in Baltimore, and the last three as a missionary priest on the island of Mabatu."
Bedelia leans back in her chair calmly, her confident demeanor a stark contrast to the man in front of her, who is still flustered from his exposed state. "These years in the mission, they must've brought many difficulties. So far away from home, isolated from the familiar." She watches him like a lioness watches a young lost deer. "Or maybe you found it liberating, being this far away from the watchful eyes of your ecclesial superiors?" Difficulty, isolation, liberation... she wants to lead Will down a path that he will be unable to control—of how lonely his life on this island was and what kind of temptations must have been lurking there. Did he have the urge to break certain priestly vows at least once while exposed to exotic island women?
"I... loved it", he says, an honest smile appearing on his beautiful face as he conjures the memories. "The sea, the serenity, the people. My work with the poor and the children. Teaching them, helping them. Learning from them."
Bedelia's eyes narrow slightly at this response—she had been expecting some kind of crack in his armor, some admission of weakness or desire. Her face betrays none of it however, as she fakes a smile. "How wonderful," she says approvingly while secretly cursing. She tries a different approach. "I must admit that I am not familiar with Mabatu. Tell me: How do the local women dress?"
The question hangs in the air, as she looks deeply into his blue eyes. He blushes again, although he seems to have forgotten about his half-undressed state for now. "Um, ... scantily I am afraid. But I did my best to teach them to dress more modestly, at least for school and for mass."
"How commendable of you, to think of these young ladies' modesty." Bedelia's smile is gentle, almost maternal. "How did it make you feel to see these island women dressed so scantily, as you put it?"
He smiles gently. "I did not judge them. It was part of their culture. There was an innocence about it."
Bedelia allows for a moment of silence, scanning his facial expressions for involuntary admissions. "And how did your vows fare under those conditions, surrounded by these innocent young women? Did temptation arise?"
Will blushes even more at the question. "Dr. Du Maurier!", he says, as if in protest of the mere thought. But he does not deny it. He turns his face, appearing to look at a piece of artwork on her wall that shows a graceful stag being hunted by wolves. Long seconds pass. "I am committed to the celibate life I promised", he says.
Her eyes follow his gaze to the painting. "The pure stag, running from the wolves of temptation and base pleasure", she speaks, her tone academic, yet beneath her mask she is ruthlessly moving in on her prey. "Is that how you feel sometimes?"
He takes his eyes off the painting. "No...", he says, but she is certain that he is thinking about her question, and that he isn't as sure about the true answer as he might like to think.
A small smile plays around Bedelia's lips. "How do you handle temptations, Father?", she prods further. She wants to get a sense of how much self-restraint this seemingly innocent man really has. "When these young island women showed so much of their sun-kissed bodies, did you allow your eyes to wander? To linger?"
"No", he says again, before adding, quietly and shyly: "I tried not to."
What adorable honesty. She has got him now—his guard is slowly crumbling, but she has to be careful not to scare him off. She doesn't want her stag to run, so she must mask her lupine features. "Let's change the topic for now, shall we?" He nods gratefully.
"Tell me, Will: What made you decide to become a priest?"
"I love my Lord. And I want to offer my life to him in service."
What a lucky god that is, Bedelia thinks. "And how do you feel when you serve God and your congregation, Will? Does it fulfill you?"
He smiles. Honest joy and peace are visible in his expression. "Yes", he speaks softly, almost tenderly. "It does."
What at odd specimen you are, Will Graham, Bedelia thinks. She keeps her professional façade as she leans back in her chair. She needs to tread carefully, lest her prey becomes wary of her intentions. She does not want to arouse his suspicion; she is a huntress, and the right moment to strike is not yet here. "Before you went to the Pacific, you said you worked at a high school for two years. Tell me about your experiences there."
He takes a deep breath as his gaze is moving around the room. "I celebrated mass for the students and faculty and taught religion classes. But mostly I was something like a guidance counselor. The students could come to me to talk and seek advice. To have someone who would listen to them."
Bedelia observes him with delight. She wonders about secrets shared by youthful lips with a young priest's ears. "Do you feel like you were able to help the students that sought you out?"
"I hope so. Many came back regularly, so I like to think they got something out of it."
Oh, I am sure they got a lot out of it. Even if everything you said was the most uninspired drivel, they certainly had a reason to come back. I mean look at yourself. Bedelia has to smile at her own thoughts. Just imagine if you had been sitting before them half-naked, Father, as you sit before me now. You'd have had a never-ending line of smitten teenagers in front of your office.
"Tell me, Will: Was there anything unusual you noticed about the students that came to you?"
Will looks up. "How do you mean, Doctor?"
"Anything out of the ordinary; perhaps about the nature of their concerns or the way they behaved when talking to you." The psychiatrist is hoping for a hint of scandal, stories of promiscuity or experimentation the students might have told their handsome priest as they poured out their little hearts to him—she lewdly pictures pretty girls sitting on his lap while he strokes their hair tenderly to give them comfort... She squirms in her seat and banishes the mental image.
"Well, I… I found it odd at first that it was mostly the female students who came to me. I mean, by no means exclusively, but yes, those who sought my counseling were mostly girls."
Bedelia's eyes widen slightly. Not exactly a salacious confession, but at least something. She'll take it. She is surprised at herself—at how much she is enjoying toying with this man. "Why do you think that was, Will?"
"At first I could not figure it out." Will absent-mindedly bites his lower lip. "But then I figured that girls must just be more comfortable talking about their feelings and asking for help than the boys."
Oh, you clueless man... She nods approvingly. "That's quite insightful," she says with an encouraging smile. "Did the students ever come with questions regarding their sexuality?" Bedelia holds her breath—a risky question.
To her surprise, Will does not appear to be flustered by it. "Yes, all the time in fact."
Dr. Du Maurier's eyes light up with excitement. This she wants to hear: how did this chaste priest handle these young female members of his flock when sexual matters came into play? Her curiosity is piqued. "And what guidance did you provide them with regarding those questions?" She does not have to fake interest. She truly cannot wait to hear his answer.
"I told them that sexuality is sacred. That it is like a sacrament—a visible, physical sign for a spiritual reality: love. And that they should not break this connection, never divorce their sexuality from love. That they should not be content with only half of what their hearts long for, however much a boy might pressure them." The handsome priest smiles tenderly. It is obvious that he truly believes what he says. "That they should wait until they can give themselves completely, body and soul, to the man they love."
Bedelia watches him with a growing sense of fascination. A foolish view on sex of course, but one so pure and earnest that she cannot deny a certain appeal. The young priest is a hopeless romantic, adorable in his devotion. How charming and dangerous he must have been for these young, naive women... his sweet and noble sentiments likely made them fall for him even more. Innocent sexual awakening meeting romantic idealism wrapped in such a pleasing package—a powerful combination, whether he realizes it or not. But however true his devotion might be, she will guide it towards corruption. She desires to see him sin, and the purer he turns out to be, the more she desires it. She wants to defile his innocence.
"Tell me Will: If you have such lofty views on sexuality, then why did you yourself choose a life of celibacy?"
"For my Lord. To be able to serve him and his Church more fully", he says serenely. "To give myself. Completely."
What a strange and fascinating man, Bedelia thinks. Does he realize how sensual he sounds, speaking of total self-gift? She wonders if this chaste man understands that a delicious fruit can become even more alluring when it is forbidden and out of reach. She has no doubt that he was a tantalizing temptation for island maidens and Catholic schoolgirls alike, appearing in many a wet dream.
"An admirable vocation, no doubt. But one more easily idealized than realized." She pauses. "Do you experience loneliness, Will?", she asks with a calm demeanor. "Do you sometimes long for a woman's touch?"
He blushes again, very slightly, but Bedelia does not miss it. His eye-lids flutter as he looks away, not able to look her in the eye. "Sometimes, maybe." There is a moment of silence, before he adds (as if to diminish the importance of his admission): "But this is what it's like to be a fallen child of Eve." He looks at the psychiatrist. "Our hearts are restless until we rest in him."
"St. Augustine", Bedelia says. "A pious quotation, but maybe also an attempt at brushing aside the relevance of earthly desires." She crosses her legs and catches her patient looking at them for a fragment of a second. "How do you cope with this loneliness, Will?", Dr. Du Maurier presses him gently. "How do you deal with unfulfilled sexual desires?" There is a pregnant pause that makes him shyly look away again. "How do you cope with the lust that indwells a fallen child of Eve?"
Nighy clears his throat. "Is... is all of this really necessary for the evaluation, Doctor?"
Ignoring his question, she continues asking hers. "Do you sometimes have erotic dreams, Will? " And, carefully escalating: "Do you touch yourself when you are alone?"
Will is rendered mute at the merciless bluntness of this elegant woman. He begins to sweat.
Bedelia relishes his discomfort, and it only spurs her on further. She has tasted blood, and she will have her kill; the priest would fall. After some silence, she looks at her expensive wristwatch, before looking back at her patient. "How about we continue the physical examination?"
Will's eyes light up. Gratefully he nods, as if the good doctor were saving him from these uncomfortable questions. He does not realize yet that he is only moving from the frying pan into the fire.