Note to the reader: please check the datestamps carefully; this actually takes place in 2411, a year after the CSI stories available at time of posting.

Every tomorrow has two handles. We can take hold of it by the handle of anxiety, or by the handle of faith. ~Author Unknown

11:52 PM NEKOMI PREFECTURE STANDARD TIME
MARCH 16, 2411
142 SAKURA AVENUE
NEKOMIKOKA, TOMODACHI

Sister Destiny was quietly reading in the living room when she heard the clicking of the lock. As she and her roommate Konoko were both home, and Destiny was awake, the alarm wasn't set. (As long as Destiny was awake, she reasoned, why bother possibly waking Konoko?)

The door opened, and the man who entered looked into the barrels of the twin pistols aimed at him.

"My name is the one on the lease," Geoff Depew said tiredly. "Which means I'm responsible for bloodstains if you shoot me."

Sister Destiny holstered her pistols. "Perhaps if you'd let us know you were coming?"

"Eeh. Tramp freighter from Deneb, in hyperspace, with a crew that was fond of Sirian opera. And they told me their hyperdrive was faster than it actually WAS. I'm lucky I got here before next week." He dropped his duffle bag to the side of the door, then regarded her. "You're looking well."

"So are you," she said, "but I hadn't expected to see you for a couple of years."

"There's a story there..."

11:24 AM AVALON STANDARD TIME
MARCH 17, 2411
INTERNATIONAL POLICE HQ
39TH FLOOR, CHIEF'S OFFICE

He was repeating the story in the office of the Chief of the International Police.

"I was back on Barsaan for a month, and everything was going fine. I was back into the swing of things, Brother Partridge had decided my, uh, independent work had made me eligible for promotion. It was all going really well, but then I realized something. I thought I'd hidden it, but Brother Ghost... well, he's Ghost.

"I hadn't lost my faith, but I didn't feel the calling. I didn't even know if I ever actually DID, or just fooled myself into thinking it was my path to finding a way clean. And I didn't know if I could go on without feeling the call, or if it was betraying the first people to completely believe in my ability to redeem myself.

"Brother Ghost called me into his private chambers, and engaged me in an argument, in the old-fashioned sense of the word. And let me tell you, Brother Ghost argues like a Minbari philosopher who's spent time studying the spiritualism of the t'skrang."

Gryphon had an expression on his face that mixed bemused, amused, and sympathetic.

"When it was over, we went to see Brother Partridge and Father Talesio - well, he did, I sat in the office and when it was over they called me in."

"Brother Partridge," Father Talesio said quietly, but with force behind it, "please cease. A crisis of faith is not to be taken lightly." The Master-at-Arms stilled himself, but his eyes remained dark and angry.

"I beg your pardon, Father," Geoff said, "but my faith remains strong. What is - was - weak is my sense of being called. I came here to find redemption, I left because it wasn't something you thought I could find here. I returned to finish my training, but if I doubt my calling, as Brother Ghost noticed and counseled me on, then is it fair to the Order for me to remain when another can take my place?" He bowed his head. "I apologize if I speak out of turn, Abbot, but my loyalty and faith remain strong. I just don't think I feel the call to vocation. I wanted to so badly I may have deluded myself."

"Father," Ghost said mildly, "I have a solution. It is one not used in centuries, but I think it may fit our situation. I propose he be formally granted lay brotherhood."

Partridge's face shifted from angry to thoughtful. "It would solve many problems for him and for us. Still, there's one question to be answered before I think about this proceeding. Brother Geoffrey," he said, his voice snapping with the authority of the armsmaster, "What will you do, should we allow you go into the world as a lay brother?"

"Begging your pardon, Master Partridge," Geoff said, snapping himself into training mode, "should this be allowed, I will return to New Avalon and offer my services to the International Police. I have served them well, I believe, and I think they will take me back. They are good and honorable people, and they will guide me. My first loyalty will be to the Order and its teachings and goals, but the International Police is good and just."

Brother Errol Partridge relaxed, even smiling a little bit. "Then I agree with Brother Ghost's plan."

"And now I'm back. And as the saying goes, if you have need of me, I have need of work. I've learned a few tricks, and I'm ready to go to work as soon as you want."

Gryphon leaned back, quietly, and then smiled.

"The fact your instincts were to come back makes me proud." He reached over to tap his intercom - a show, what with he and his yeoman both having Lenses. "Lu, would you-"

"Permits, ID card, all ready for when he comes out of your office."

"Lu, what if I told you he wasn't coming back to the IPO?"

"I have Jim Brass on speed-dial."

"Ah. Carry on, then." He clicked it off. "Well! Looks like my office is too efficient. I'll have to get her drunk and see what happens. What's your plan?"

"Well, assuming you don't have something for me right now, I thought about heading back to Tomodachi on the 4 o'clock metashuttle. Konoko was talking about hitting some St. Patrick's Day parties, and asked Destiny and I to come along to, and I quote, 'pour her into bed when we get home.'"

"Bah," Gryphon said, waving his hand. "Go get some lunch, then head down to the stargate. I'll authorize it."

"Isn't that ridiculously expensive for one person?"

"Costs a lot to build it, not to use it. Besides! It's my money."

"Objection withdrawn, Chief."

Gryphon laughed. "What will it take for you to call me Gryphon?"

Geoff pondered a moment. "Probably a Lens. But I don't think I'm there yet."

They shook hands, and Geoff left the office.

"Closer than you might think," Gryphon mused, then went back to paperwork.

As Geoff left the building to head to the Entire State Building's Marché, he picked up two shadows, each moving from one side of the building's entrance. One of them was short, wore a leather jacket, and held in his mouth a cheroot of abnormal stench. The other was tall, broad, wearing a light jacket and jeans.

As they moved into place on either side of him, Geoff glanced at Logan, then at Pete Rasputin.

"Lunch on me?"

The shorter man grinned, and took the cigar out of his mouth.

"Welcome back, kid."

"Handle of Faith" - a Future Imperfect mini-story by Geoff Depew
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