Seven Swans

Author's Note – As a character, Father Mulcahy has always been one of my favourites. That no doubt puts me into a minority, but to each their own, after all. Still, as I've grown up from the kid who watched MASH reruns (I was born after the series ended) to the university student who writes fan-fiction because I don't have cable, Father Mulcahy's stuck with me. Of all the characters, we know perhaps the least about his childhood, but somewhere there had to be something, some series of events, that led him not only to Korea, but also to the priesthood.

Perhaps overly ambitious, this series of seven stories is the story of Father Mulcahy's life as I imagined it during time that I should have been doing schoolwork… (But then when isn't that, so I hope I can be excused!) I sincerely hope not to offend anyone, but I've tried as best I can to be realistic. Only parts of the sixth story (Timor Dei) and the seventh story (Pietas) will feature any of the other familiar characters. I hope I can be forgiven for this.

Feedback is always greatly appreciated, but I wrote this story as much for my own exploration of the character as for anything else. Let me know if you read it, if you like it, or even if you hate it. I promise not to be offended.

Oh, and there are some continuity issues on the show as to Father Mulcahy's full name. I've chosen, for various reasons, to go with John Francis Patrick Mulcahy.

Scientia – Genesis

"Sit down, Kathy," Ann ordered in frustration, pressing her hands into the small of her back in an attempt to relieve the pain that seemed to have permanently settled there. "We'll all be late to Mass if you don't let me finish braiding your hair." Trying to get six children ready for Mass while being almost nine months pregnant was no small task.

The feisty girl, the youngest until the latest addition to the Mulcahy family was born, stuck her tongue out at one of her older brothers and dropped herself back down onto the chair in front of her mother. "Wasn't me," she protested, crossing her podgy arms over her chest.

"I know," Ann sighed, picking the brush up and running it through the child's curly hair. It was always one or the other of the boys causing trouble. Matthew had been in trouble with the sisters at school last week for skipping class. Mark revelled in catching bugs to put down the backs of girls' dresses. And Luke just wouldn't sit still for more than two minutes at a time. "Heaven help me if this one's a boy too," she murmured, quickly beginning to plait the other half of the girl's hair.

"When's the baby coming?" Kathy demanded, starting to fidget again. Ann always blamed the little girl's restlessness on the influence of too many older brothers. The other two girls, Mary and Brigit, were the oldest of the bunch and rarely spared much time for their young sister, instead leaving her to play in the mud with the boys.

"Maybe not for a while yet," Ann answered cautiously. "But good things come to those who wait."

"'lizabeth got a baby sister last week," Kathy reported, bouncing up and trying to turn around. A firm tug on the end of the almost finish braid reminded her not to squirm. "I'd like a baby sister."

"How about a baby brother?"

"I don't like brothers," Kathy replied, wrinkling her nose. "They yell too much."

"All little babies yell, even sisters," Ann told her, reaching for the ribbon hanging on the back of the chair to tie off the end of the braid.

"Then I don't want a sister either," Kathy declared, jumping off the chair as soon as the bow was tied, the ends of the bright ribbon trailing behind her. She shot off down the hall, intent on not missing a moment of anything that might be going on.

"It doesn't work like that," Ann sighed again, arching her back in an attempt to stretch out the sore muscles. She looked at the clock above the stove, shaking her head. Despite her best efforts, they were still going to be late unless they left within the next few minutes.

"Boys, do you have your shoes on?" she yelled down the hallway, snatching up her scarf and tying it over her head.

"Mama," Luke complained, rushing into the kitchen, "I'm hungry."

"We'll have breakfast after Mass, the same as always," Patrick declared, appearing from the single bathroom down the hall, his face freshly shaved. "Now don't bother your mother. She's tired."

"Shoes on," Ann directed firmly, pointing down the hall. "We have to leave." The boy reluctantly turned to walk down the hallway.

"Everyone ready?" he asked, coming up behind her and rubbing her shoulders.

She leaned back into him, inhaling the scent of his soap. "I hope so, because I'm not up to chasing after them this morning."

"Why don't you stay home?" he suggested. "You can slip away to the evening Mass. I'm sure that I can handle the kids for an hour."

"And leave you alone trying to get them all to the Church?" she questioned in good-humour. "You'd never get them there. You'd probably lose Mark to the bugs. Brigit would start daydreaming and wind up at the school instead of at the church. Luke would be off chasing some stray cat and Kathy would be after him like a shot."

"At least Mary and Matthew would still be with me," he noted with a fond smile at his wife. "Last week you thought I'd be left with only Brigit."

"Yes, well, last week we were on time for a change," Ann replied, easing herself away from him and starting to head toward the front door. "I can't imagine how."

She only got a few steps before her hands were pressing against the pain in her back again. "Well," Patrick noted, taking her arm and leading her back to the kitchen chairs, "it appears as though there will only be three of the Mulcahy clan at Mass this week." He leaned down to kiss her cheek as he helped her sit. "Mother will want to be by to check on you," he told her, "and if you're feeling well enough later, she'll see you off to the evening Mass herself."

"What do you think of the name John?" Ann asked, looking up at her husband as he stepped away from her.

"John Francis," he told her tenderly after a moment. "Saint Francis was a quiet saint and the Lord knows that we could use some peace around here."