It was almost enough to make him laugh again – the beggar’s automatic agreement, the way he called him some forbidden fruit, the presumption that he’d been an innocent priest-in-training for most of his life. Almost enough.

Malachi hummed instead, though the sound positively buzzed with amusement.

“I see,” he said quite gravely. “We wouldn’t want that. You said it yourself, Mister Tully, that I should set an example to the people that look up to me.”

Francis seemed to have lost his will power at the turn in the conversation.  A pout had locked itself onto his face as he focused on the soup, at least he would get fed but he had already agreed to clean the church for it.

He turned around and leaned against the table, folding his arms and letting one ankle cross the other. "Yeah, but I don't look up to you like they do. I do things , tit for tat. I'm cleaning and repairing the church for food and shelter. I just recalled another bit of interesting information that is not a rumor. But I'm worried you have no way to pay me for that." He spoke as if disappointed but it was what it was.

Had he pushed the beggar too far, in his innocent denial?

Malachi watched him leave the stove, taking note of his obvious pout and downed demeanor. It almost surprised him, to see how disappointed Mister Tully was with the prospect of not being compensated physically. Ordinarily, Malachi would have tried to curb such behavior, but he didn't want to lose the resource.

"No?" questioned Malachi. He stepped closer to the table and slowly walked his fingertips across the surface.

"I wouldn't worry, Mister Tully. If you give me what I need, you only have to tell me what you need in return."

Francis shrugged and kept his arms folded. He looked towards the priest who came closer. "Nope." He held up a hand before pointing towards Brennan, looking at him and sighed. "I am so disappointed. I thought you priests knew all sorts of sins since you hear that stuff in confession. Don't even know what you're asking for forgiveness." He shrugged and sighed sadly.

"It's pitiful. And I am not going to ruin a pure mind." He pouted and looked the other up and down once more. "Such a shame. " He sighed and walked back to stir the soup and turned down the heat since it was almost done. "I guess if you want my precious information, you'll have to use your imagination. "

There was a shift in the calm posturing that Malachi practiced so commonly. Subtle; it came to life in the tension between his shoulders, the exhalation of that little air of amusement he'd breathed in before. He watched the back of Mister Tully's head when he returned to the stove, and wondered just how likely it would be for Father Richards or Mrs. Higgins to walk in here now.

The other priest was probably resting his head. The lady was not to be seen.

"Francis," said Malachi. He moved in closer -- far closer -- until he stood just behind the beggar, close enough that he could likely feel his breath. Both long arms slipped beneath Mister Tully's, not touching, but framing him in. Malachi rested his chin upon his shoulder while his hands rested at the warm edge of the stove.

"In the future," he whispered, "don't act so pathetic. Have I denied you anything yet?"

Francis tilted his head as he could hear the fabric shifting and feel the sensation of the body looming in close behind. His expression remained hidden but he leaned his head back almost touching his cheek but stopping just shy.

"Naughty lying priest." He said cheerfully and turned to face him. Carefully leaning back to not touch the hot stove. "You did. I am not allowed to touch, even said down boy. But if you want to punish me anyway, maybe I'll be even better. Besides..." he sighed and turned back away towards the soup. "How can someone with no shame experience being pathetic? "

Said 'naughty lying priest' scoffed at the implication of being such. When Mister Tully turned to face him, Malachi had to lean his head back just to keep from touching. It was easy to mask what he thought right then, but when the beggar turned around again he didn't bother.

Malachi had to look away, just to keep himself from glaring a hole right through the back of his head.

He truly thought that not being allowed to touch him was the same as being denied something essential? Did he think so of all the priests he met, or only him and his 'wasted' appearance?

"Quite easily, it would seem," returned the priest. Hands pushed against the edge of the stove, and he moved away from Mister Tully without further contact. He set about searching the kitchen again, and once he'd found a bowl, he left it on the counter within reach of his guest.

"You can work with me or not. Whatever pleases you," Malachi stated as he sat down at the table. One leg crossed the other, and a hand rested on top.

"But begging like a dog will get you nowhere with me."

Francis shrugged and laughed softly. "I think you're wrong. I don't feel a thing." He glanced back after the priest moved away to sit. He took the bowl and spooned in some soup before sitting across from the priest and began to eat. " I said I would be happy to help, but I don't do things for free. I told you to offer me something, and you've not even tried. After you offered me anything too. You should make up your mind."

He waved a hand airily, "Who is begging? I am playing and nothing more. If I were to truly beg, that would be different. You don't see me on my knees with a look of need? I have food and a bed. So as long as I clean and fix the church, I need nothing from you. But if you want the scoop.... [i[Like about the nun who'd done the cleaning before I came along...[/i] you need to use that imagination God gave you, if you even have one." He then looked up. "You didn't expect me to serve you did you?" He said completely uncertain.

Ah, so Mister Tully was taking his generosity for granted then.

Malachi did not remind him that, if he wanted, he could take that promised food and bed away from him, whether he cleaned the church or not. Didn't he know how easy it would be? Father Richards, Mister Tully is stealing from the church again, and he threatened me physically too. It didn't have to be the truth. Malachi's gaze fixed on the little movement of his finger as it tapped against his knee.

He turned just enough in his chair to face Mister Tully, once he'd joined him at the table.

"No," Malachi shook his head. "Of course not. There are simply things I cannot provide you with, Mister Tully, on account of my vows."

On account of a lot more than that, in fact, but he did not feel the need to state the rest. Was the beggar so certain that he was even interested in men? Or did he not care, and supposed that any handsome priest would do, if only he could convince them? Malachi offered a small smile regardless, as he did not wish for Mister Tully to think that he was particularly displeased.

"I did not mean to insinuate that I expected you to serve me. It's quite the opposite."

Francis ate slowly and lifted merely his eyes to the other. He smiled before taking a bite and relished the food before swallowing and finally speaking. "I don't expect anything. I even told you not to offer 'anything' if you don't mean it. But don't pretend to be innocent either. I like having my fun, and it isn't as fun if you act innocent and unaware. That's just such a put off." He swirled the soup slowly and watched the sparse vegetables tumble in the flow.

"I know you're a priest, and I won't have you. It is fun to pretend, so let me have that." He lifted the spoon and pointed it towards the other. "I will be good to you and get your information. But I do expect something. It isn't a hard concept and I am a man without a penny to my name. I am not even asking for money. But I don't like to work for free." He was starting to get a little frustrated about how dim this priest was acting. He knew he was smarter and trickier than that. He glanced towards the knife that was still on the table and immediately moved it to his side. "Just be reasonable."