Ruby. He could not say he knew a single Ruby, personally. No last name widened it even more. That she lied about her place of origin, and Oscar Wilde in print? Who knew what was true with her.

Women’s rights, though … perhaps Nesah or Ruth might know her.

He probably would have taken this news with a lot less spilt milk, Zechariah finally had the sense again to not say aloud.

“Another vacation, most likely,” he said dryly. “Do you have any idea what a pain in the ass Roberts is? And Cockburn is downright illiterate.”

He felt for Not-Richard, but he also rarely missed an opportunity to kvetch.

Elijah took a deep breath. "I told people I wouldn't leave again. I know Roberts is.. troubling.. so is Cockburn." He slumped forward and let his head rest on the table. He was tempted to hand Zechariah his club and ask him to end it.

"I spent so much of my savings on that vacation as well. I couldn't just leave even if I wanted to. And could it make me look more suspicious?"He said quietly then looked over his shoulder wide eyed. "What do you think of me? You wouldn't be here if you thought I was..." He trailed off immediately facing forward again. "Sorry.. I'm just a little.. upset." To put it mildly.

This was Not-Richard. This was the man who sung him siren songs of ‘tomorrow’. To think of ‘tomorrow’ instead of all the days that haunted him. The Mondays, the Fridays, the Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays. The Saturdays and the Sundays – and worst of all, the Todays. He wanted to touch his shoulder, reassure him, run off with him into the sunset-

This was both entirely too intimate and not intimate enough.

Zechariah circled around back to the front of the desk, taking the seat and looking tense.

“If I thought you were what?”

Elijah looked down at the desk which he could see some drops of coffee in all it's paleness and then up at him. He'd worked with Zechariah enough, and yet he had no clue what he'd think. He slumped and covered his face. "If .. maybe.. I ... " He couldn't say it. How to say it subtly enough he got it, yet could pretend he misunderstood. What did it matter? The trashy article practically called him out, even though she couldn't have known. Both priests knew. Who knows how many guessed? "I like men." He manage to say though his voice was cracked and he wanted to just go home and lock the door for all eternity. "You'd leave.. if you knew."He finally said more clearly. If Wilde with couldn't get out of it, what hope would some no name constable have if people knew for a fact about him?

While the polite majority had long found ways to make excuses for Zechariah’s tendencies, he had no doubt that those with an eye for it caught it. After all, how many women wanted a man who dressed more flamboyantly than she? Who let his hair out long enough to grasp rather than vanish under a hat? Whose natural cadence was just a touch effeminate?

Zechariah grew more and more tense the more Crane danced around it. If this was how ashamed he was of it – was he ashamed of him, too? He was starting to feel secondhand shame from him. He crossed an ankle over his knee, clasping hands on his leg as he waited to see what answer he might get.

Then, it was out. He liked men. He stopped denying it. Zechariah’s shoulders sagged in relief, and he leaned back into the chair. He let them sit in silence for a moment.

“It looks as though I am still here,” Zechariah pointed out. “Is that all?”

The moment the words got out, Elijah was sure he'd hear the slamming of a door or maybe slapped with something even though he didn't think Zechariah would ever be violent. They'd always had a somewhat professional relationship so he didn't know a lot about him.

And here he was spilling out secrets as he felt the world drop out from under him. Hearing the other speak, and still sitting there relaxed. He was confused. He looked up at him and his hands slowly dropped.

"All? You.. aren't bothered by this? You don't think something is..wrong with me? Or..anything ? You are still here.." he said softly. "Thank you.." he hadn't don't anything but be there. It meant a lot to him.

They had gotten into this awkward conversation because Zechariah was outraged at Crane’s inaccurate description. Instead:

“No, I cannot say I am,” he said, as though this were just some peculiar quirk of Crane’s. “Have you …” and then, then Zechariah looked a touch concerned, “had poor reactions before? Did that one man treat you poorly afterward?”

There was no question, of course, whether the one person Crane had slept with had been a man.

… Not after his letters.

He rubbed his face and shook his head. "No, not him. Until recently, no one knew. I was so good at keeping it to myself. Things changed. Someone I know, his son..worked so hard to keep it a secret before he died. And I know how people think. You see the article. I didn't even do anything to make her think that. At least I'm sure I didn't. " He couldn't believe he was bringing up Simon at a moment like this.

"And the one guy..he was going to try to expose me just because things weren't going well. And I lied. Damn it. Like a coward." He covered his eyes. "Maybe i deserve all of this. I'm a terrible person."

Usually, sat across from Crane, this was something about this crime file or that. He supposed the whole sodomy thing was technically crime … but undocumented. Well, mostly.

Zechariah had his obligations, and Crane had his. Also, he was Catholic. Kitty was bad enough. Did he truly want to invite a Catholic into his life?

… But the ‘tomorrow’ line had worked.

Hm. The lying was a bit cowardly, and the ‘terrible person’ bit, well … pathetic, but Zechariah kept that to himself.

“Then I am, too,” Zechariah said, shortly. “It would not justify anyone trying to blackmail me – don’t you agree, Crane?”

Elijah looked slowly up at Zechariah. He stared confused for a moment. "Of.. of course not. Why would anyone wish to blackmail you?"

He was brought to the topic so quickly, he hadn't connected the dots but looked over at the man in concern. "Wait. You're not a bad person. Are you saying.. " He was a lawyer and far sharper than Elijah in many ways, he'd believed he could handle himself in such a way. He tried to think what he could mean. Had Zechariah been through something similar? He was acting strangely kind and concerned.

"Have you... Had someone try to ruin your life through a paper?"