He saw the flicker of hurt, washed away by surprise. Oh, God. Was he sitting across from another burnt lover of Simon’s?

Brother. He could not say whether that was better or worse. Zechariah pursed his lips, then took a draw of his champagne. Opened his mouth, then filled it with more champagne instead of pouring out words.

“I thought I knew him, and I was wrong.”

He set the champagne glass down, harder than he intended. Then, he interlaced his fingers under his chin as he chose his words carefully.

“I do not fault my friends for using me, Elijah, so long as the intent is clear. I am useful. Most of us are, and I think it would be a damned waste to let our gifts languish out of fear of crossing some unstated line.”

His gaze slid to the champagne, then back to Elijah.

“I turn to you at the station because I trust you. I may not have any crimes against children to brush under the rug,” he added with an arched brow, “but neither do I foster relationships with the other constables that I might lighten the burden of what I ask of you.”

His gaze softened some, at that … before his brow set in lines once more.

“But even I balk at the way the Wards have used me. I can only imagine how they treat someone else who is … like family, to them. I saw the bruises.”

Elijah rose his brow as confusion seeped in. So much was coming out that night, it felt like their conversation would have been more proper in the privacy at his home and yet perhaps it was safer here.

"Were you.. the one he was going to York to live with?" He knew it was someone, and a man. He was learning there were definitely more men like him in Whitby than he could have imagined, but still the numbers had to be quite limited. And the way he spoke of Simon...

But then he kept speaking of Ben and the Wards. His eyes went down. He always wondered if he'd failed by not taking Ben in. He'd hurt Simon, and his other children. He'd hurt Noah. Who knows who else suffered at his hands? But Noah hadn't said his name in worry at retaliation. The children begged him because they didn't want to lose their father. Should he have ignored all that and still done it? The fact this man was the one who helped raise him when his grandparents struggled to. He knew he had a good heart but his temper and his actions.. He gripped his napkin and frowned.

"It's a complicated world. And I wish I knew easy answers. I.. always wish to fix things. And make things better. Believe me."

“Oh, God,” Zechariah sighed, putting his head in his hands. “I had bought fish-themed silverware and everything.”

Zechariah raised his gaze back to Elijah, straightening his posture once more. He took another sip of his drink, though the sip seemed rather long with rather less liquid left for a ‘sip’.

“It … falls to us, Elijah. It falls to us to repair the world.”

He finished off his glass and settled back into his seat.

“Or at least leave the world with less cracks than we came into it with.”

Elijah stared at him and let out a shirt, very quickly stifled laugh. He immediately covered his face. "I'm sorry! You mentioned the utensils. It was just..such a beautifully sweet mental image. You really loved him so much. Makes me falling for a priest seem pretty silly in comparison." He sipped his wine and realized maybe he shouldn't have said that, but it was such a small thing. Zach knew he'd liked someone and he never care about the past.

He looked over at this man he shared a secret that never could hurt anyone else but had to be kept silent about. "If you know how, I would love to learn. I'm tired of seeing things fall apart around me. I have always wanted to make things better for everyone. I do believe you may have the heart and know how to lead the way." He held up his glass then drank from it.

“I did,” he agreed with a solemn smile.

He was over Simon. He was. It just … ached every now and then, like that since-healed cut on his hand.

“You know, I thought about becoming a rabbi at one point,” he flirted joked.

The waiter swept by, poured another glass of champagne, and Zechariah pinched his lips.

“Ah, but here is the thing,” he said, and the smile looked almost as pained as it did talking about Simon: “I became a barrister instead. I believe I … can, do good as a barrister,” he insisted.

For how did he live with himself if the answer was he could not?

“But the advice I am suited to give is purely legal. Now a constable, on the other hand … a constable can protect people from harm. A constable can bring justice directly by intervening when the law is broken. You can save lives before it is too late. Is that not a beautiful way to live?”

He wished he had known Elijah back when he had been trying to get Ben arrested!

Elijah looked at him and smiled slightly, he could understand feeling something so strong. He couldn't imagine how much it must have ached to lose him. Even though he seemed well now, the fact he was getting married seemed to prove he was moving on, unless it was just to cover the emptiness. "Perhaps I'll get glimpses of you acting so charming in your married life."

He rose his brow as he briefly tried to imagine what that would mean. He sadly had met very few rabbis in his life. "You'd be a devilishly handsome one." He grinned playfully but instantly removed it when the waiter came close.

The words that came to him from the man before him were genuine and he never felt closer to the other. He remembered when he believed he could be good. He still wanted to. "That is why I took the job. You have the luxury of time and resources to gather as much information as possible. I almost always have to make a decision with no time and so often I wonder if I made the right decision. It's rare, but sometimes I realize I didn't. And so often I haven't gone by the book. There are crimes I don't want to arrest and so often I'm hated for whatever I try to do. But I guess you understand that very well." He smiled weakly. "I should have your courage and confidence. Know I'm doing my best and no one is perfect, to do all the good I can and as little harm as possible." He held up his glass towards the other. "Thank you.'

Zechariah crinkled his nose with a smile that might as well have been a cringe.

“Marital bliss is a myth,” he said, fingers settling on the base of the not-yet-refilled glass, “but I am looking forward to being a father.”

‘More than a husband,’ he refrained from clarifying.

Zechariah blushed. Was Elijah flirting with him? He could not possibly be flirting with him. Zechariah had sprayed him in vomit! If that was not the most straightforward path to extinguishing an untested … relation? Then by God, he did not know what was. Divine intervention for Elijah’s sake, he was certain.

His face fell at Elijah’s plight. It was a relatable one, even with the time to brood his own decisions over. If anything, that merely gave him more time to fret.

He met Elijah’s glass with his own, studying him as he chose his own words.

“All the time in the world does not spare me regrets. What I primarily have to go on is my client’s word, and one side of the story can only go so far. I have heard of cases where the facts come out post-trial, much to a friend’s chagrin – and they were not as expected. All we can do is the best with what we have.”

Sonia said he could have lovers. Would it be too presumptuous to have a frock made?

A waiter swept by with their risottos. It was a bit flavorless, but they were mostly paying for the view anyway.

Elijah shook his head and tried to speak encouragingly. "Not true, while it is rare, I've seen older couples who still love each other. What can ruin it or make it not obvious is how used to each other they are, they do not feel like acting lovely so much. " True it was very rare, but he had seen it. "You must like something about her to have children with and marry her. And I know you will be a great father. I know it'll bring you joy, and I hope it helps you feel complete."He said with a smile, perhaps projecting a little of his own self.

His flirting might have been that but he'd disguised it, at least in his own mind, in the excuse that it was merely a compliment. He'd never flirt with a taken man, it only lead to more heart ache. They were over if they'd ever even begun.

After clinking their glasses lightly together, he listened and felt a little guilt lift. While it wasn't much, each taken burden was more relief that he desperately needed. A small serene smile welcomed Zechariah for his good advice and he nodded. "You are right, as usual. I will continue to do my best as you, and I will always support you to the best of my abilities. I hope I can soothe you anytime you have one of those days." He didn't mean to be alone, of course his wife would want to help? But he wanted to at least say he'd be there in case Zech preferred someone who better understood.

As he enjoyed the risotto, he smiled and made a small noise of delight. It wasn't all that good, and yet Zech had said it was. Perhaps this is what fancier food was like? He'd had better at the other's house.

"Maybe one day soon, you can let me cook for you instead..' He nearly pleaded.

There was a slight, confused head tilt at Elijah’s assumption of … love? Love was for lovers, and maybe lucky and well-off nupitals. Marriage was for business.

But he supposed the premise of love was more … palatable, than the truth. Or this risotto. Had it always been this bad? He was typically well into his glasses before the plates hit the table.

“I hope so,” he said with a polite smile. “We are two people who need each other, and sometimes that is enough.”

And then Elijah spoke again. And Zechariah wished he could marry for love but that was over a century away.

When Elijah offered to cook for him … it sounded strangely, well, domestic. Damn himself for misconstruing every word he spoke for something Zechariah wanted, rather than what was there.

“I would love that,” he said sincerely, oblivious to Elijah’s level of frugality, then took a bite and swallowed. “Absolutely love that.”

Surely it would be better than boiled rice and vegetables.

Elijah smiled weakly. "Indeed. And I want to be someone you can rely on. I hope your wife is just as supportive of you as well. Let your future from this day onward be one full of joy and you have a child or children that love you and are everything you want in a family."He said and held up his glass again to clink with Zechariah's as a toast. He truly did want the best for the other.

The constable instantly perked up when he agreed. He smiled brightly and nodded. "If you let me know some of your favorite foods, I will do my best to make a meal that tickles the taste buds. I have never cooked for .. " He struggled immediately for the best way to say it. "A particular diet before." What even was kosher? He would have to ask around if it mattered to the other. "Oh! Perhaps we could make it a picnic. There are plenty of quiet peaceful places." He suddenly wondered if friends had picnics. They did right? It was just a meal outdoors after all. "I mean, if you want. I love the fresh air. But we can have it anywhere you like. You are more than welcome in my home though it is more small and cozy than your own." In other words it was a small and cheap home, perhaps a little cluttered with his own items. He wanted the other as comfortable as possible.