Elijah still was not quite certain what to expect when he came to visit Zechariah so late at night. The lawyer had seemed happier when he left the constabulary. Perhaps it was a secret meeting since they had something in common they couldn't just talk about casually. He wanted a friend in the constable.

Friends don't hold hands like that though. Elijah glanced at his hand in the new gloves as he stood at the door to knock. He didn't know how to dress, but he dressed nice while still casual. For being someone who didn't keep up with fashion, he'd asked before buying this piece three years ago when someone wanted a constable at a party just to keep an eye on things. It was important he didn't 'look like a constable'.

Freshly washed and brushed, to do all he could to be presentable, he teetered between worrying if he'd overdone it or under, and did it matter? He brought up his hand to knock, the house looked a bit dark so he was almost worried that the other was playing a prank on him and wouldn't be home. Or would jump out in surprise as some attempt to lighten his worries after that damned article had been printed.

There was no way he'd find out without trying. He couldn't let his worries ruin what could be genuine. So he didn't want to keep the other man waiting, and he knocked.