by A. Magiluna Stormwriter

Disclaimer: This story is an original work of amateur fiction, and is written purely for the private entertainment of P:TL fans.  This story is no way affiliated with Trilogy, MGM Worldwide Television or the Sci-Fi Channel.  The characters are their property, and this story is not meant to infringe upon the copyrights of MGM, Trilogy, or anybody else who owns an interest in “Poltergeist: the Legacy”.

Author's Notes: This story was based on an idea my best friend Lorre had after we saw a really great comedian in San Francisco on Spring Break.  Nick's "joke" and Derek's comment to Rachel are based on a joke told by Doc Barham, the comedian in question.  Many thanks to both of them for the inspiration.

Dedication: This is dedicated to the Dark Fae.

Rachel made her way down the hall, satisfied Kat was safely in bed for the night.  She'd intended on double-checking with Nick about their plans for the next day.  Nearing the library, she could hear masculine laughter coming from the direction of Derek's office.  Slowing, she entered the library, not intending to intrude.

But the conversation stopped her in her tracks.

"So I was fucking Phillip last night," she made out in Nick's distinctive voice.  "But you know, he's no fag; he struggled."  Knowing chuckles.  Derek's laughter mixed with Nick's.  "But, good Catholic that he is, he wouldn't let me use a condom."

Rachel's eyes narrowed and she stormed through the door.  "How dare you?"  she spat at them.  "How dare you laugh at that?"  Her angry gaze was focused on the proper, poised precept, a nearly empty snifter of brandy cradled in his palm.

Derek blinked in surprise, then looked her straight in the eye and deadpanned, "Fuck you, Rachel, that was funny."

"Yeah!"  Nick added, taking a long drink of his beer, an amused glint in his eye.

Stunned initially, the two men's cavalier attitudes spurred her anger.  "Funny? Funny? You're talking about fucking Phillip, laughing about it!  I hardly find that funny at all, particularly when he's not even here to defend himself."

Nick let out a derisive snort, then blinked and stared up at her.  "What the hell are you talking about, Rachel?"

"I clearly heard you say 'So I was fucking Phillip last night'–"

"Whoa!  Wait a minute here!  I said the Pope, not Phillip.  For Christ's sake, Rachel, I was telling Derek a joke from the comedian I saw last night."

Now it was Rachel's turn to blink, then blush deeply.  "You were?"  she managed to squeak out.

"Yes, I was," he replied.  "Maybe you should actually catch the whole conversation before you start jumping down people's throats about it."

"Sorry," she mumbled meekly, then fled the room without confirming the next day's plans.

After a moment or two of tense silence, Derek stood to refill his brandy.  Moving past Nick, he briefly touched the younger man's shoulder before returning to his seat.  "That was close, Nick."

"Too close for my taste," Nick grumbled.  "She doesn't need to be interfering."

"I must admit that was a nice save though, that comment on the comedian," Derek quipped, smirking, and sat back down.

"Yeah, Phillip would be so proud of me, adding lies and sodomy to my list of sins.  Maybe I should just become the mayor of Gomorrah," Nick shot back, matching Derek's smirk.  When the older man didn't reply, he moved to lean in closer, whispering, "Fuck you, Derek, that was funny."