#Connor thinks that's sussy af.

[replicantdeviancy]

It was a curious kind of serendipity that had occurred between them - the thought had gone through Connor's head more than once since the moment he'd come upon the handsome priest & made his introductions. Admittedly, James' baffled considerations of the potentially vast options in regards to romance wasn't entirely inaccurate. Though he was a pretty & youthful creature, the prodigy of his department, the detective didn't really put himself out there. Surely, he could have had any man or woman he fancied. Yet he wasn't one for frivolities, hardly the type to fall into bed with any beautiful person who caught his eye. Part of his self-imposed isolation was due to the odd hours he was forced to keep, the potential for disappointment as no matter what, the job would always have to come first. Not everyone understood that way of life, & the boy had a gentle heart in spite of his capacity for coldness. He didn't want to temporarily dissipate the underlying numbness of his soul with carnal games. He yearned for something real.

Beyond the obvious chemistry, the priest in his midst seemed to understand something of odd hours & late nights, as his position clearly took him all over the world at the whim of a higher power. Passingly, Connor mused as to whether James worked under the pope directly. Another, deeper piece of his subconscious speculated as to what that could mean in regards to his case. If James was here for any reason that would have him take up temporary residence in Detroit Michigan of all places - a once upon a time metropolis that had become a dying city - there was something much bigger going on than what he was seeing.

Yet again, Connor could blame the priest for distracting him with his devilish wit & charming flirtations. He should have been questioning whether or not that was entirely the purpose - to distract the curious investigator from his task - but for the moment he was determined not to care. The older man amused him with his comments about his own age, the mild self-depreciation of it all. James must have had a similar sense of self that mirrored the young detective, in a way. Connor might have been unmistakably prideful, but in the very same breath he could hold such contempt for himself. Did James relate to that, he wondered.

He seemed to relate quite well in terms of sleep quality, though Connor thought he sensed a hint of falsehood at the older man's claims of easy naps. “I'm not sure that's necessarily exclusive to age…” he remarked with a hint of laughter in his voice. There had been many a sleepless night that Connor had suffered, the thoughts having been too loud in his head. He spent his early hours before the dawn pouring over cold case files, trying to find anything the previous detectives had missed. Sleep was taken where he could get it, easily found when he was relaxed & in familiar company. Sometimes the triplets held little sleepover parties they deemed 'boys nights', just because. He missed those nights. He made a note to text his brothers later. Colin would endlessly tease him about the impending date. Xander would comment about his tastes in men. Both would want the tea after the two parted for the evening.

That was one thing Connor had taken notice of time & time again. James made reference to his age somewhat often, enough that it made the detective consider whether the priest felt he was too young for him. Not in some way that might make him an unattractive dating prospect, but in part going back to that underlying self-depreciation. His compliments towards the younger were positively flattering with all of that British charm mixed in, his interests as clear as day. Connor wanted to make damn sure that they were on the same page, & that James knew his intentions. That sweet expression never faltered, head cocked to the side slightly with his intrigue. “Codger? You?” The way he said it, the idea itself sounded absurd. “I think I've made my opinion clear: you're very handsome. You don't have to fear for your pride with me.” The statement was followed by greedy hazelnut eyes roaming over the priest's form, looking him up & down before settling upon a mutual gaze once more. The little smirk that drew against his lips was supremely satisfactory in nature, perhaps even a little sultry. A cheeky ruse to incite a reaction. James had witnessed just how shy Connor could be, even if he played the part of someone endlessly confident. Though he couldn't deny that he might have been imagining just how fit the older man was beneath the perfectly tailored outlines of his dark suit.

Alas, it was getting late. The detective knew that he had to get going if he was to finish up his work & find an opportunity to sneak away long before his appointed end of day. “That sounds great.” Having found an amicable agreement to their future meeting place & events thereafter, he was eagerly looking forward to that evening. A hand was offered & the detective felt a breathy little chuckle leave him. A pleasant goodbye with the promise of more. He accepted the gesture graciously, appreciative of any opportunity to touch. James' hand was lean & strong, gentle in their mutual hold. Connor gazed at him with a shy, blooming affection. “It's been very nice meeting you, Father.” He released his gentle grasp, letting it fall away as he moved to stand.

As he moved towards the door, the detective paused, & looked back over his shoulder towards the priest one last time. “I'll look forward to helping you overcome your shyness.” A sly wink was thrown his way before Connor departed, leaving James to his thoughts & his musings of this chance encounter. As he drove back to the station, there was hardly a moment where the priest left his mind. While he was still firmly dead set on solving this disturbing case, the young man couldn't help his excitement towards the evening to come.

If someone had told James that soon be visited by a detective and the pair of them would walk away with each others' phone numbers for external reasons outside an investigation, maybe he wouldn't be completely shocked by it, but it certainly wouldn't have been one of his first guesses either. Though given the sort of person he was, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility, strange and amusing things happened to the priest more often than he cared to admit, particularly within certain circles. Not all of his peers looked so kindly upon his unorthodox manner, even if it did garner results. James was likely just as well known for his skills as he was for his mouth and the sheer amount of wit that seemed to relentlessly pour out of it.

For a moment, the thought of demons and the Devil were elsewhere, tucked away for another time. He wouldn't be so naive to imagine that the detective would have forgotten all about it, there was no such luck, it would wriggle its way back to the forefront of the man's mind soon enough and thought would swallow him whole all over again. But what was there? He'd been offered some semblance of an answer, the teasings of one without going neck deep and dismissed them in his own way. So, he'd have to find other ways to rationalise it, just as everyone did when they didn't know or couldn't accept the seemingly impossible.

Not that he blamed him, of course, the Brit had been in his shoes himself, a nonbeliever, the circumstances were very different but it was all the same at the end of the day. One moment it seemed like fantastical nonsense, then the next, it felt like being thrown into a horror movie that refused to come to a final close. There really was no halfway, you were either fully in on it or not at all.

So far there were many layers to the whole interaction, a genuine care for the man, genuine interest, but also that need to be there if something did go wrong and a strange middle-aged priest was needed. As seemingly unlikely as it might seem on the face of it, it wouldn't be the first time that someone turned to him to make sense of what they couldn't wrap their heads around -- - on varying levels.

"Off and on, really. But I'm an old man, put my head down for a few seconds and I'm sleeping like a baby." That was just another outright lie, one that the Northerner had a feeling Connor would see from a mile away. It wasn't much of an attempt, he wasn't deliberately trying to cover it up but it just came out easier than groaning on about how off his body clock was more often than not which certainly hadn't gotten easier the older he got. He'd even reached the state where he sometimes needed a quick nap in the afternoon, it wasn't too often but enough to make him pause for a moment and realise that he wasn't getting younger. Not that he could really forget every time looked in the mirror at that silvery-haired man looking back at him.

He could've sworn he had a full head of black hair just a few years ago. "Don't get old... that's all I'll say." Though he couldn't quite stop himself from smirking anyway. It didn't actually bother him too much, his main worries were his mobility going forward, the necessity of running or even getting into a physical altercation did come up more than most would imagine when looking at him in his daily attire. He still exercised every day, each morning greeted by push-ups and most evenings with the regular run in an old hoody and sweatpants. He wasn't unfit, not even in the slightest, but he couldn't ignore that little extra bit of effort it sometimes took to get off a particularly comfortable sofa if he'd been sat there for a while.

What was he even playing at? Flirting away with a handsome young man who had his whole life ahead of him, the guy could have whoever he wanted, surely had people falling over themselves just to talk to him let alone spend any real time with him. What could he possibly see in the old cheeky priest?

Yet there it was again, that eagerness to meet that almost surprised James with its sincerity. He'd even stay if he wanted to, the Brit could close the door, pretend nobody was home and sneak off with the detective to dig further into that fascinating head of his. But given his work, it was probably best they have a little time to themselves, get things in order. Most of all, the Englishman had to decide his next move. "Christ, if you look any more presentable you'll make me look like some haggard old codger..." Though he paused for a moment, pointing at the other with his index finger. "And don't go saying that's how I already look. My pride's about all I've got left in this world." Another of his jokes, although maybe it was obvious by now that James didn't exactly hold himself in high regard. Not because he didn't think he deserved it, he didn't particularly care, he didn't do his work for acknowledgement or praise, he just wanted to help people and it was as simple as that.

"But... I like the sound of that. How about we meet at my place? Just a few buildings down. Quaint little house that I'm squatting in until the usual bloke comes back from his holidays." Yet another lie to add to the pile, though that was likely somewhat apparent as well. He'd leave it up in the air as to whether or not he was trying to be serious or not. "Keep an eye out for the holy mailbox... you'll know what I mean when you see it. Cute, if not a touch gaudy for my taste, but still... no accounting for taste." He teased thinking about the little dove and a cross that would definitely give it away and the fact that James wasn't exactly accustomed to there being any literal signs that someone of his constitution lived in the vicinity. Aside from his attire, he preferred a more -- - casual approach.

"If you do decide to come back to mine for a couple glasses of wine, suppose I'll have to break out the good stuff, won't I?" He couldn't even pretend to be disappointed at that point, rather enjoying the thought of sharing a decent bottle for once, especially with such good company. "Oh, I don't know about talking... I'm a shy soul, you know." A smirk left him as he barely managed to hold back an outright laugh, suddenly pushing himself to his feet yet never took his eyes off Connor. "Well, Detective Connor Arkeit..." He announced with one of his sly looks settling into his face, offering the man an open palm. "It's been a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to really getting to know you." His smile widened to one side. "Don't worry, mate, I'll go easy on you."

[replicantdeviancy]

Perhaps it was the late hour or the lack of sleep getting to him, for as unmistakably proper as this rather tall gentleman was, Connor couldn't help the wariness that he held towards him. There was just something disconcerting, beneath the effortless poise & polite warmth, that kept the detective’s hackles up. He showed none of it, his own passive charm on display. The very same practiced demeanor that had served him well in his line of work, as it put others at ease & made the young man appear harmless. However it may have seemed, by no means did Connor lower his guard, even as he released a slow breath which carried with it all of the previous tension built up in his body from his initial startle, & a calm but faint smile tugged at his features. “—So you’re the cousin he’s been in contact with.” The priest had informed him at one point or another that he was communicating with a relative in London, sending him candid photos from their travels as though this lengthy, work related venture were a vacation.

To the detective, it was, though that could be put up to a matter of opinion. When one considered just how much the young man strived to overwork himself on a regular basis, any sort of trip was a vacation, even if he had been spending most of it researching for his lover’s assignments. Connor had learned more about the supernatural in the last few months than he had ever known for the whole of his twenty-six years of life. Which in that instance was what convinced him that he was overthinking things when it came to this sudden introduction to one of James’ relations. Supernatural entities had been on his mind day & night, the priest filling his head with so much paranormal information, warning him against all sorts of otherworldly evils which allegedly existed. The detective figured that he was just being paranoid, yet he continued to remain vigilant, even as he slowly closed that gap between himself & the man whom resembled his lover to a striking degree.

“Please, call me Connor. There’s no need to be formal with me, especially if you’re family.” That offered hand was taken into a firm hold to shake, pleasant expression warmed by the faint widening of his smile. If ever there had been a man who made Connor of all people feel short, it was this one. James was already a couple inches taller than himself, which was especially appreciated when the older man kissed him, but in order to look the doctor in the eye, the detective had to crane his slender neck just a bit. Not a very common experience. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” A small nod in greetings as Connors hand fell to his side. The other held onto his book, bringing it to tuck against his chest as he took a step back. An illusion of polite distance, though he was still wary. Certainly not the type to be easily caught off guard, even when fatigued.

“Though I’m guessing that James neglected to mention that I’m from Detroit.” The quip held a teasing air to it. A tactful response, as the detective was the type of person to choose his words with care & was mindful of the impression he made towards others. Every interaction calculated towards an advantage, for himself or others. Right now, he wanted to be on his very best behavior so as not to embarrass James in any way. As far as Connor knew, the priest didn’t have much in the way of family, so every relationship mattered. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help the mildly sardonic bemusement stirred by the doctor’s vocalized concerns. He suspected that the dauntless protectiveness that he admired of James was something of a common family trait. He chuckled lightly at the thought.

“I’m not worried about walking alone at night. London is a lot safer than certain districts in my city.” Far less gang activity & drug running, though the detective was aware of the spikes in crimes over the years throughout London. At least it was far more difficult to obtain firearms in the UK, but that didn’t make it perfectly safe. Humanity has a way of surprising even the most seasoned of law enforcement. In that regard, he couldn’t necessarily fault this cordial relation. “But, the concern is appreciated,” he assured, not wanting to come off as ungrateful. Though he was more than capable of taking care of himself, Connor didn’t mind being looked after.

It wasn't an overly regular occurrence to hear from his distant cousin, not that the pair didn't like one another, they just found their lives, or life and unlife, tended to be rather busy and neither one of them had a great deal of time to be calling one another and chatting constantly unless it was absolutely necessary. Upon returning to the British Isles, James had reached out, simply throwing the Ekon a message to say that he was there and that he'd even be spending some time in London where Jonathan had recently returned to as well after last living there back before and a few years after the First World War.

As a vampire, he tended to move from place to place, spending around a decade somewhere and then he'd up and leave before anyone took notice that the passage of time had no effect on the incredibly pale man's appearance. But being back home had warmed his now silent heart, and that was despite how different the city was from the one he'd grown up in. There were hints of the city he'd once known here and there, but he was sure that even the general feel of it had changed. Though was that really much of a surprise after a century? As much as the Londoner had loved his city, it had also brought him a great deal of sorrow when walking the streets that had looked exactly the same, as if reminding him of happier days. Now, it was different, evolved, snippets of memories here and there rather than being engulfed as a whole and spat out.

Or was it just another reminder of how old he was? How the world around him changed and grew while he stood in the shadows like a statue.

With the news that James would be there, and would bring a partner, that insatiable curiosity of the creature bubbled to the surface, maybe something almost paternal about it. He'd come to learn more about the Northerner the longer they'd known one another, secrets never stayed that way for long when Jonathan Reid was around, despite carrying so many of his own. James had known what he was within an instant, while Jonathan had been able to pinpoint the sort of man James was just as easily. The pair found it both amusing and somewhat perplexing.

For the time being, however, he'd decided to give them some room, they hadn't travelled halfway across the world to see him, after all. So, as the good doctor concluded the last of his visits to patient's houses, a familiar face had caught him off guard. He'd seen pictures of James and this -- - Detective Connor Arkeit, the older man sending his cousin a few snaps of their travels every now and then as if letting the nocturnal being feel as though he were part of a family again. It was pleasant, a nice notion to give him an extra boost during the day, or night. Yet when he saw that face, the name falling between his lips, a slight but gentlemanly smile claimed his pale features, only furthered by the quiet amusement of being mistaken for his far younger family member.

The irony being that it was the one with silver creeping into his dark hair who was the younger of the two -- - and by quite a lot.

That was to be expected, the two did share strikingly similar appearances, despite time only touching one of them. "My sincerest apologies, Sir." He began, bowing his head in apology. "Please, allow me to introduce myself." Came a very well-spoken voice, one so smooth as if it were the vocal interpretation of melted milk chocolate with an accent far too posh and antiquated to be the younger Northerner. That, and the Ekon stood at a towering 6'5" with an extremely thin figure beneath a finely tailored three-piece suit and tie and golden watch with its chain hanging outside his waistcoat pocket. Not really the everyday attire that James went for. Or the relatively recent scars that marked his face, one over the bridge of his nose and a long gash along his left cheek. "I'm Dr. Jonathan Reid." He greeted, offering out a pale malnourished hand, hoping that the slight chill in the air would be enough of an excuse for his eternally cold skin. There was a running joke that all doctors seemed to have cold hands so he only further exaggerated and welcomed the claim. "I am a cousin of Fr. James. A... distant one, admittedly, but a cousin, all the same." It was the truth, after all, he just left out the part that he was born in 1886. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear fellow. Though... I must admit that it does concern me that you find yourself wandering the streets of London at this time of night? And alone, no less."