Wesley had been having a good time recently, even if he'd received a few complaints. They were for the most part from those that were used to being arrested or should have been from the start. His old friend was soft and this proved it, and when he'd returned with barely a greeting before asking him to try to not bother the one called Cockburn, or to make sure their paths didn't meet when they were both on schedule. Well... he was not the coward Elijah was.

He waited until he saw the towering bundle of aggression and stepped out into the path. "Ah constable Cockburn. It's a lovely day isn't it?" He flashed that charismatic smile that made most people fall under his spell. "It's good to see you. I was hoping I could have just a few moments of your time. It's almost near the end of your patrol isn't it? Let me walk you to the station and we can talk."

He lowered his voice so no one else could hear. "I see you went to Crane with your tail between your legs. Couldn't handle a big dog like me after being coddled by such an innocent little kitten like him? So you wanted to tell on me or something?" He glanced up to the side but kept walking and nodding with a polite smile to any one they passed.

There was always something a little … off, with Francis. A hulk of a creature, but sounded more boy than man. Acted more boy than man.

To say she was disappointed in Crane’s hold-hands-and-get-along approach was to say being set on fire was a little bit warm. Usually, it was a surly look Roberts’ way before she went to go take it out on some poor, plausibly deniable civilian.

This time, she grinned with feral teeth. They were nose to nose.

“Fancy seeing you here,” that birdlike voice all but sing-songed. “Gotta check a report out on Saltwick Nab.”

Officer Cockburn changed direction and squared ‘his’ shoulders. Took two steps back and waved toward himself in a taunting manner.

“You wanna come talk this out, big bitch?”

"Bitch?" He said quietly and incredulously. He rose a brow and watched the other walk away. He rubbed his chin and smirked. "So the little pup thinks he has teeth. Let's see how he holds up to a lion."

He stuck out his chin and squared his shoulders as well as he walked quickly to catch up. "See here. You know I am your superior, I will let this go but you will obey next time you understand?"

Instead of answering, Officer Cockburn kept walking in long, leisurely strides. They were headed toward a copse of trees.

Wesley looked more curious before glancing around. He followed the marching form before him and placed a hand on the hilt of his baton as he caught up.

"Seems like an odd place for a meeting. " He said but kept his voice sounding casual.

Oh, it was.

One moment, Officer Cockburn was walking as casually as ever (… did he always have that sway to his hips?). Then, as soon as Roberts caught up ... he was whirling around with his right fist aimed straight for his mustache-covered teeth.

Wesley didn't get to where he was by being an idiot. He'd been careful the moment they left the road. The moment the constable before him paused, he'd pulled out his baton and brought up his arm. The hit struck his forearm which still smarted. He backed up and laughed weakly.

"Didn't think these country boys could pack such a punch. If this is how you always react to disagreements, I'd almost think we could get along. But you have to stop this fighting right now. I'm bigger than you. Not physically but professionally. If you have an issue, be a man and speak to me directly. I have little respect for people who tell on others behind their backs. Unless it's to help solve a crime of course. "

He kept the armed ... arm up between them defensively.

He backed up. She stepped forward in time, with teeth bared in a feral smile.

Punch him punch him punch him in his mustachioed pretty boy face! But, no. He made eye contact, made the gestures of surrender, and there was Fanny to sniff like it was only mildly off meat.

“You talk too much.”

Worse: she liked the idea of beating opposition to a pulp. Any opposition. His opposition. She scoffed.

“What, is Officer Church-Bell gonna go roughing up pickpockets now?”

Wesley would have attempted to approach Francis as a friendly gesture but he didn't dare get within arms reach of the strong man. He looked eye level with him and held up a hand. "Never, I'm too sophisticated to do that. And it's why I have this job and things like a jail cell and the courts to do it. But...sometimes it isn't enowhat.

He rubbed his chin and eyed him carefully as if considering something. He took note of his position constantly so he could keep the distance between them no matter what. "I have heard of some of the things you've gotten into. Tsk. You know you could lose your job if you keep it up. Unless, you have someone decorated like myself to help you. I can assist you and let you continue playing constable in your own strong armed ways, but you need to be able to work with me."

If he agreed and could follow simple orders it would be easy enough. But if not, well anyone above them that mattered would certainly listen to him far beyond someone who only knew how to complain with their fists.

Fanny stared. Crinkled her nose. Pursed her lips like she’d just drunk down something gross and yet entirely expected it.

“That’s a lot of words to say ‘glass jaw,’ buddy. I could throw Crane over my knee and crack him like a nut.”

That was a bullshit bluff and she knew it – Crane might have had no spine, but he stuck a spine-sized cross up his ass to compensate.

“What makes you better?”