Simon suddenly laughed. "If the fish won't come on land, occasionally," He looked at Zech again. "What do you do for a living, anyway, apart from studying fishing devices." Then, belated, he added an awkward "ser...", for he realized that he had been speaking too freely. He looked down, embarrassed.

[CW: Homophobia.]

Zechariah bit back a smile (not successfully by any means) and crouched to take a seat against the post. One day, it would be his turn to make questionable judgments on strange situations … but today, he was just a man enjoying the coast with some pleasant if not slightly baffling company.

Sodomy was enough to make strange friends. He never would have spoken to Christopher otherwise.

“Studying fish devices to determine if that was, indeed, the fish device Mr. Sticky-fingers stole from Mr. Awful Neighbor’s shop... sir,” he tacked on with an amused look.

It felt strange having a gentleman like him call him 'sir'. He said nothing though. Instead, he thought for a moment - watching the young man lean back into the post. "A judge?" Simon thought they were usually older, but what did he know, anyway? "'m I to adress ye as lord or summit, then?" Awkward.

“Auch, no,” he laughed, pushing curls out of his face. “My hair will turn white just thinking about it.”

A black and gray bird landed on a post nearby, eyeing them critically and letting out a guttural “caw!”.

“Barrister-in-training, criminal law. You have to be ready for any possible argument.”

It was something of a morbid game to him, what with having no skin in it.

Simon didn’t know much about court cases, but he could figure out what Zech meant from what he described. “Right, so if ever I murder someone, I will come to you for help, ser.” He joked.

…

He waved his arm to shoo the bird, because he did not like it.

Zechariah wrinkled his nose and rested a hand behind his head.

“Start with framing. It is harder to prove and no one wants to sit in court that long.”

The crow tilted its head at Simon, and let out a “caw!”. It was so cute when humans moved their arms like that!

"Blame it on you, ser?" He joked, but he gave the gentleman a quick look to make sure he had not offended him by being too free. Then he took a step towards the omimous bird, trying to chase it once more. Would make a nice meal otherwise.

The crow jumped and flew off to the next post, then stared beadily at Simon: the other white meat.

“How about Christopher?” Zechariah said with a wry look. “I jest.”

Maybe. He was still sour over that non-kosher liquor.

Simon smirked, enjoying that rather too much. Then he realized that laughing with a gentleman about another gentleman, especially one supposedly generous, made him look bad. He stared back out over the water, smile dropping, and squinting his eyes.

The hooded crow (or ‘mist crow,’ as they called them back home) let out another haughty ‘caw!’, and Zechariah rested his gaze on it. That bird was not the only strange ‘bird’ on this dock.

“It is late,” he said, standing and putting his jacket back on. “Stop by for dinner some time, if you like.”

Yiddish Reference:

Faygele, or 'little bird,' is/was also a term for gay men.