[ There were a few moments during these meetings where Hank couldn't turn his brain off; observing father Connor with a fine-toothed comb. Without meaning to, it was a pure reflex, but he had noticed a couple...quirks. The contradictions that went either unnoticed or unremarked upon.
More than once, Connor reminded Hank of a cat who had its tail stepped on one too many times. Reticent and more than a little hesitant to relax around him. Only it was at odds with an almost painfully obvious Father Connor wanted to be friendlier. The problem was anytime the priest took a step in the right direction, he recoiled. As though he were gearing up for a hit.
Hank wouldn't claim to be an expert on what seminary school is like, but he was pretty sure they didn't train priests to be painfully shy and cut off. Alienating yourself seemed counterproductive to guiding ones flock, or whatever they called it. ]
Hank is fine, it's not like I just gave you the Miranda warning.
[ He smiled with an easy expression when he reached for the water bottle. Maybe hoping it would rub off on him. ]
Playing favorites is pretty mortal, ain't it? Can't blame you for wanting to hang out with someone who isn't either from the diocese or some irate parent.
No accounting for taste. [ Because Hank couldn't ignore the opportunity for self-depreciation. He tried to play it off by leaning casually against the bookshelf.
Only that immediately proved to be a disastrous move. On the top of the tall bookcase that spanned the wall was an old vase. Painted with the virgin Mary it looked like it was two things - expensive and about to topple off the shelf. Right onto Connor with how it was angled. ]
Shit! [ Hank wasn't exactly up to date with his physicals, but he was fast when he needed to be. In an instant, Hank was around the desk and hauling Connor out of the way of the falling vase.
The exact moment Hank had pulled Connor up and close to him - the vase shattered over the desk chair. ]
Jesus! [ Hank swore a second time. His hands still around Connor's arms. ]
no subject
More than once, Connor reminded Hank of a cat who had its tail stepped on one too many times. Reticent and more than a little hesitant to relax around him. Only it was at odds with an almost painfully obvious Father Connor wanted to be friendlier. The problem was anytime the priest took a step in the right direction, he recoiled. As though he were gearing up for a hit.
Hank wouldn't claim to be an expert on what seminary school is like, but he was pretty sure they didn't train priests to be painfully shy and cut off. Alienating yourself seemed counterproductive to guiding ones flock, or whatever they called it. ]
Hank is fine, it's not like I just gave you the Miranda warning.
[ He smiled with an easy expression when he reached for the water bottle. Maybe hoping it would rub off on him. ]
Playing favorites is pretty mortal, ain't it? Can't blame you for wanting to hang out with someone who isn't either from the diocese or some irate parent.
No accounting for taste. [ Because Hank couldn't ignore the opportunity for self-depreciation. He tried to play it off by leaning casually against the bookshelf.
Only that immediately proved to be a disastrous move. On the top of the tall bookcase that spanned the wall was an old vase. Painted with the virgin Mary it looked like it was two things - expensive and about to topple off the shelf. Right onto Connor with how it was angled. ]
Shit! [ Hank wasn't exactly up to date with his physicals, but he was fast when he needed to be. In an instant, Hank was around the desk and hauling Connor out of the way of the falling vase.
The exact moment Hank had pulled Connor up and close to him - the vase shattered over the desk chair. ]
Jesus! [ Hank swore a second time. His hands still around Connor's arms. ]
Are you alright? Christ, that was on me.
[ The tips of Hank's ear flushed red. ]
Uh...pardon my language, father.