Novella: Sister Aloysius Beauvier’s Mortal Sin, Chapter: 7 The Cat And The Kitten
Title: Sister Aloysius Beauvier’s Mortal Sin
Chapter: Seven, The Cat And The Kitten
Author: halfsquat (aka Half Squire)
Fandom: Doubt
Pairing: Sister Aloysius/ Sister James
Rating: PG 13
Genre: Romance/Drama/Suspense
Spoilers: Doubt
Disclaimer: All characters from Doubt belong to their creators. I claim no ownership and intend no copyright infringement. Everything unrelated to Doubt and all divergence from their script is my doing. Much of the dialogue comes directly from the script.
***
“Sister Aloysius Beauvier’s Mortal Sin”
a fan fiction novella
by Half Squire
inspired by the film Doubt,
and, respectfully, drawn heavily from it
***
Chapters:
I. The Dragon Is Hungry
II. My Concerns Are My Own
III. Candy, By Another Name
IV. Farther From God
V. Doubt Presses Her To The Bed
VI. Cat, Kitten, Rat
VII. The Cat And The Kitten
VIII. A Serpent In The Garden
XI. Caged
X. Questions Of Taxonomy
XI. Madonnas
***
***
VII. The Cat And The Kitten
***
“Well. What a relief! He cleared it all up.” Sister James proclaims optimistically.
“You believe him?” Aloysius balks.
“Of course.” Innocently, the wide-eyed nun examines her tone.
“Isn’t it that it’s easier to believe him?” The taller nun paces towards her. Anger flushes her face.
“But we can corroborate his story with Mr. McGuinn,” James ventures.
“Mm... hmm. Yes. These types of people are clever.” A finely shaped finger taps her own chin.
“Well, I’m convinced!” The young nun exclaims. Silence fills the room. In it, James edges closer to her pensive companion. Aloysius eyes the young nun’s pretty face. The pupils linger over pouty lips, only slightly parted. In nervousness, their owner bites the bottom one. Sister James steps closer; her eyes dart, trying to unmask the woman before them. The other woman edges away.
“You’re not. You’re not convinced.” Sister Aloysius shakes her head. “You just want things to be resolved so you can have simplicity back,” the older woman shoots back harshly. The young nun’s face begins to crumple, like it did last night.
“I want no further part of this.” The young woman’s hands stir the air in front of her. They rise in defense. The two women have paced about the room. Now, the desk separates the two.
“I’ll bring him down,” Aloysius tensely threatens. Saucer-eyed, James leans in until they are nearly nose-to-nose. Time spans out. James brushes her nose against Aloysius’s. The older nun blushes, but is frozen to her spot.
“How can you be so sure that he is lying?” she whispers.
“Experience.” The taller nun’s voice lowers. James leans in, her eyes pleading for another kiss- a kiss like last night’s. Aloysius pulls back; a look of self-loathing darkens her face. James crumbles, as her own self-loathing comes forefront, with this rejection. Anger rises in her, and she verbally lashes out. She starts with the easiest and most urgent argument she can muster. She cannot talk about what is happening. She cannot talk about what she wants to talk about. Her eyes screw up.
“You just don’t like him! You don’t like it that he uses a ballpoint pen. You don’t like it that he takes three lumps of sugar in his tea. You don’t like it that he likes ‘Frosty the Snowman’. And, you’re letting that convince you of something terrible, just terrible!” Her delicate voice rises to what could be called a fury for it. “Well, I like ‘Frosty the Snowman’!” she says petulantly, waving her hand in the air and then settling her pointer finger on her own chest. She grabs the bow tying the older nun’s bonnet on. Holding that bow, she tugs that face close to her own. Pursed, her lips dart for Aloysius’s. The older woman slaps her wrist, and pulls violently away from her grasp. Rage and tears pile in the young woman’s eyes. “And, I think it would be nice if this school weren’t run like a jail!” she spits. “And I think it’s a good thing I love to teach History, and that I might inspire my students to love it, too!” Stammering, the young woman looks down. “And if you judge that to mean that I’m not fit to be a teacher, then so be it!” With a solemnity, Sister Aloysius seats herself.
“Sit down.” Sister James immediately complies. The light bulb over her head flashes and goes out. “Look at that. You blew out my light.” She sighs. “In ancient Sparta, important matters were decided by who shouted loudest. Fortunately, we are not in ancient Sparta.” A pause. Hurt flitters across the older woman’s eyes, but then vanishes. At first seeing this, Sister James falters. “You honestly find the students in this school to be treated like inmates in a prison?”
“No… actually, they all seem fairly happy.” Her tone sharpens as the hurt vanishes. “But they’re all uniformly terrified of you!”
“Yes. That’s how it works.” A pause. “Are you terrified of me?” A rapid succession of blinks are James’s first response. Her mouth lolls open and wags, as if to speak. “Are you terrified of me?” the older woman repeats.
“S-sometimes you frigh- intimidate me,” the young nun replies slowly. The hurt comes forefront again.
“I frighten you?” she says, with an inwardly directed sneer. “I frighten you as if you were a child?” Tightly, her teeth press together. Across the table, James reaches out a tender hand towards the woman. Scowling, Aloysius pulls back. The young nun’s expression turns cross.
“Maybe if you didn’t act so- so cold- didn’t,” she stammers. “D-didn’t act like the dragon they have dubbed you, I wouldn’t be frightened at all!” Aloysius bristles at the word dragon.
“If you’re frightened like a child, maybe I should put you over my knee like one!” she hisses. Color pools into James’s cheeks and spreads into a steady flush. Slowly, without removing her eyes from Aloysius’s, she rises, turns, and leaves. As the door shuts, Sister Aloysius burrows her face into her hands. Moments later, a choked sob rattles through the rafters of her office. It bounces along the green walls, floats through an open window, and lands in the adjacent garden.
***
Chapter: Seven, The Cat And The Kitten
Author: halfsquat (aka Half Squire)
Fandom: Doubt
Pairing: Sister Aloysius/ Sister James
Rating: PG 13
Genre: Romance/Drama/Suspense
Spoilers: Doubt
Disclaimer: All characters from Doubt belong to their creators. I claim no ownership and intend no copyright infringement. Everything unrelated to Doubt and all divergence from their script is my doing. Much of the dialogue comes directly from the script.
***
“Sister Aloysius Beauvier’s Mortal Sin”
a fan fiction novella
by Half Squire
inspired by the film Doubt,
and, respectfully, drawn heavily from it
***
Chapters:
I. The Dragon Is Hungry
II. My Concerns Are My Own
III. Candy, By Another Name
IV. Farther From God
V. Doubt Presses Her To The Bed
VI. Cat, Kitten, Rat
VII. The Cat And The Kitten
VIII. A Serpent In The Garden
XI. Caged
X. Questions Of Taxonomy
XI. Madonnas
***
***
VII. The Cat And The Kitten
***
“Well. What a relief! He cleared it all up.” Sister James proclaims optimistically.
“You believe him?” Aloysius balks.
“Of course.” Innocently, the wide-eyed nun examines her tone.
“Isn’t it that it’s easier to believe him?” The taller nun paces towards her. Anger flushes her face.
“But we can corroborate his story with Mr. McGuinn,” James ventures.
“Mm... hmm. Yes. These types of people are clever.” A finely shaped finger taps her own chin.
“Well, I’m convinced!” The young nun exclaims. Silence fills the room. In it, James edges closer to her pensive companion. Aloysius eyes the young nun’s pretty face. The pupils linger over pouty lips, only slightly parted. In nervousness, their owner bites the bottom one. Sister James steps closer; her eyes dart, trying to unmask the woman before them. The other woman edges away.
“You’re not. You’re not convinced.” Sister Aloysius shakes her head. “You just want things to be resolved so you can have simplicity back,” the older woman shoots back harshly. The young nun’s face begins to crumple, like it did last night.
“I want no further part of this.” The young woman’s hands stir the air in front of her. They rise in defense. The two women have paced about the room. Now, the desk separates the two.
“I’ll bring him down,” Aloysius tensely threatens. Saucer-eyed, James leans in until they are nearly nose-to-nose. Time spans out. James brushes her nose against Aloysius’s. The older nun blushes, but is frozen to her spot.
“How can you be so sure that he is lying?” she whispers.
“Experience.” The taller nun’s voice lowers. James leans in, her eyes pleading for another kiss- a kiss like last night’s. Aloysius pulls back; a look of self-loathing darkens her face. James crumbles, as her own self-loathing comes forefront, with this rejection. Anger rises in her, and she verbally lashes out. She starts with the easiest and most urgent argument she can muster. She cannot talk about what is happening. She cannot talk about what she wants to talk about. Her eyes screw up.
“You just don’t like him! You don’t like it that he uses a ballpoint pen. You don’t like it that he takes three lumps of sugar in his tea. You don’t like it that he likes ‘Frosty the Snowman’. And, you’re letting that convince you of something terrible, just terrible!” Her delicate voice rises to what could be called a fury for it. “Well, I like ‘Frosty the Snowman’!” she says petulantly, waving her hand in the air and then settling her pointer finger on her own chest. She grabs the bow tying the older nun’s bonnet on. Holding that bow, she tugs that face close to her own. Pursed, her lips dart for Aloysius’s. The older woman slaps her wrist, and pulls violently away from her grasp. Rage and tears pile in the young woman’s eyes. “And, I think it would be nice if this school weren’t run like a jail!” she spits. “And I think it’s a good thing I love to teach History, and that I might inspire my students to love it, too!” Stammering, the young woman looks down. “And if you judge that to mean that I’m not fit to be a teacher, then so be it!” With a solemnity, Sister Aloysius seats herself.
“Sit down.” Sister James immediately complies. The light bulb over her head flashes and goes out. “Look at that. You blew out my light.” She sighs. “In ancient Sparta, important matters were decided by who shouted loudest. Fortunately, we are not in ancient Sparta.” A pause. Hurt flitters across the older woman’s eyes, but then vanishes. At first seeing this, Sister James falters. “You honestly find the students in this school to be treated like inmates in a prison?”
“No… actually, they all seem fairly happy.” Her tone sharpens as the hurt vanishes. “But they’re all uniformly terrified of you!”
“Yes. That’s how it works.” A pause. “Are you terrified of me?” A rapid succession of blinks are James’s first response. Her mouth lolls open and wags, as if to speak. “Are you terrified of me?” the older woman repeats.
“S-sometimes you frigh- intimidate me,” the young nun replies slowly. The hurt comes forefront again.
“I frighten you?” she says, with an inwardly directed sneer. “I frighten you as if you were a child?” Tightly, her teeth press together. Across the table, James reaches out a tender hand towards the woman. Scowling, Aloysius pulls back. The young nun’s expression turns cross.
“Maybe if you didn’t act so- so cold- didn’t,” she stammers. “D-didn’t act like the dragon they have dubbed you, I wouldn’t be frightened at all!” Aloysius bristles at the word dragon.
“If you’re frightened like a child, maybe I should put you over my knee like one!” she hisses. Color pools into James’s cheeks and spreads into a steady flush. Slowly, without removing her eyes from Aloysius’s, she rises, turns, and leaves. As the door shuts, Sister Aloysius burrows her face into her hands. Moments later, a choked sob rattles through the rafters of her office. It bounces along the green walls, floats through an open window, and lands in the adjacent garden.
***