It had only been a day or two since his niece had arrived in town, and an increasingly familiar constable had been kind enough to assist them in finding her a proper place to stay. A day or two since that same constable had claimed to house an evil in his heart, incapable of being fixed, yet that he had confessed to finding beautiful if not for its sinful nature.

That was the longest that Malachi had been able to make himself wait before the incessant buzzing of his curiosity threatened to drive him mad.

Constable Crane had even been generous enough to provide him with the perfect excuse to do two things, in requesting that the priest return his basket back to him: firstly to sate the ravenous appetite of his many questions, and secondly, to learn where exactly he lived.

It was always good to know, should he ever need to pay the constable a visit for anything else.

Malachi had opted to bring the basket later in the day, rather than try to catch Crane in the early hours before he set out for work. Pale fingers held the basket at his side, adorned with rings of gold that seemed more a natural part of his being than any kind of accessory or wealth. His other hand tapped the door in a firm knock, while his eyes half-heartedly wandered the exterior of the house.

It was a bit too dark to see it well, but this was where the constable's directions had taken him -- he could only assume it was the right one.

There was no time to wait, as soon as he knocked the familiar voice came from inside.

"Coming!" the constable said and a moment later, he noticed more light before the door opened. He was distracted looking down and seemed to stand awkwardly. "No, Diane. It is almost your dinner, if you go out you will be out all night. I-" He turned and was immediately surprised and smiled. "Ah, Father. Come in-no!" He opened the door to let him in and a fluffy small form rushed by and paused enough for the priest to see a Calico cat turn towards them with a smug look before running off. The constable sighed shaking his head then smiled at Brennan. "Sorry about that, I was just making dinner. Please come in, would you like some?"

It was polite to offer and he had enough for two. He didn't know if the priest had already eaten, but perhaps he could have more, or he hadn't eaten and didn't want to take food from someone from the church, though he made plenty. "Ah, the basket.." His cheerful mood withered just a little seeing it. "Thank you.." He held out his gloved hand to take it.

The constable was quick. By the time his hand fell from the door, Malachi heard movement inside, and soon after was greeted by the... partial sight of Crane. A rather awkward way to answer the door, but--

"Oh," Malachi stepped aside as a cat darted through. Looked right up at him, too, before scurrying off. "Hello, Diane..."

Constable Crane had a cat? That... felt right. With a polite smile, he looked back to Crane.

"Hello, constable," greeted Malachi. "It's no problem at all. I'm sorry if I've caused you any cat troubles."

If the cat hadn't returned by the time he left, perhaps he'd look for it before he went back to the presbytery. It wasn't like he had to worry about getting to sleep on time. He handed over the basket, gaze lingering briefly on the constable's gloved hand before it lifted to his face.

Gloves at home. Interesting.

Malachi stepped inside, letting his hands fold loosely at the back of his waist.

"Only if it's not a problem," he said in regards to the meal, "but that would be nice, sure. How are you, constable?"

Elijah shook his head dismissively with a small smile. "Do not worry about it, this happens often. Cats will always do their own thing in the end..." he chuckled slightly as he stepped back to let him in. He took the basket and noticed the man look at his gloves. He placed one hand over the other embarrassed and turned away to put the basket up.

"I always have extra in case a guest turns up. You're quite alright. Even if I didn't, I'd feel ashamed if someone was kind enough to visit and I made them leave hungry. And i am alright, as good as can be expected I suppose, and how are you?"

He came back to him empty handed still gloved and waved for him to make himself at home. His place was small but well furnished with an old sofa with a knitted blanket tossed over the back, a tiny fire lingered in the fire place, with a book shelf to one side with books and papers awkwardly shoved into places to make room.

"Sit, father, and I'll make you some tea." He turned to head towards the small kitchen .

Crane always made extra? Just on the off-chance that a visitor happened to stop by?

The man sounded like more and more of a saint the more he learned about him. Malachi could not wait to hear what kind of apparent 'evil' could possibly burden him.

Malachi stepped away from the entrance as the constable spoke. Without scrutinizing the living space too openly, he wandered about at a leisurely pace, and nodded along when it felt appropriate. Crane kept a very warm home, he thought, and not because of the fire. The furniture was nice, but older, and the minimal clutter only added to the homey charm.

"I'm quite well," answered Malachi, with a glance at Crane. "Actually, I was looking forward to visiting you. The church is lovely, but I do like to see a person in their own environment."

Taking a seat at the edge of the couch, the priest did not exactly look uncomfortable, but he did not seem to fit all that naturally into the space either. If this was an extension of Crane's soul -- a warm, welcoming home, cluttered but nice and sensible -- then a sanctuary of stained glass and empty pews spoke to Malachi's own.

At the mention of tea, Malachi smiled and dipped his head.

"Please, do not fuss over me -- but thank you."

"Oh? Well, make yourself at home. I always like having company, it's a nice little place but it gets lonely. So I'm grateful to have visitors."

That wasn't fully true, most of his guests brought complaints or wanted something. He did like having the emptiness in the place cut through with chatter even if he disliked the topic.

"It is no problem at all! I am making some for myself. Do you like anything in your tea, Father?" He asked as he made another cup and waited briefly for the water to begin to boil.

He stepped back in to face him. "I don't have much but always willing to give what I can."

To make himself at home was truly a more difficult task than it should have been (not for any fault of the constable's, of course), but he appreciated the kind words nonetheless.

Malachi considered the question. He didn't have a good answer -- he didn't really drink tea.

"However you have yours will be perfectly fine," was what he settled for in the end.

"You are very generous in your home life as well, constable. Do you do much outside of work?"

Elijah smiled slightly. "Alright then. " He went back unto the kitchen to pour the tea, and spoke as he did.

"I've never truly done much outside of my job, it keeps me very busy. When I was young, I never had really any friends. And now while I like to consider many my acquaintances and friends I think perhaps the wards are the closest though Ben is more of a father figure to me. He was there for me after my parents died and my grandparents could only do so much."

He added in just a little cream to the teas and brought them in before sitting to talk for a moment before dinner.

Crane was married to his work, then, willingly or not. Malachi wondered what kinds of things the constable would occupy his time with if things were different.

A fellow orphan, too. He had not met any of the Wards himself just yet, but he'd heard the name enough that it stuck out in his mind at Crane's mention.

"I see," Malachi allowed himself to lean back slightly, sitting more comfortably against the couch.

"I'm sorry to hear about your parents. Even with the support of the community, that is a difficult thing to overcome."

The constable returned with tea, and Malachi accepted a cup, rings tapping lightly against it when he did.

"You mentioned how busy you are, are there really that many criminals in Whitby?"

Elijah shook his head as he slowly sipped his tea. "Thank you, it happened many years ago. It is why I am a constable, I wanted to help people and I was too weak and ... too afraid of fire to be a fire fighter." He glanced at his gloved hands then up at the priest.

"The community is kinder now than it was back then. But then, it is still sometimes cruel to children. Children are cruel too though." He said quietly and looked down.

The mention of criminals had him raise his brow. "It is a poor town and so a lot of people struggle and it causes conflict. So you have your fill of bar fights, people being robbed, not to mention the unreported crimes that happen at the brothels. " He shook his head. "Those would be find but then there is all the murders ."