He almost, almost answered unkindly, but then his gaze rose to the sky where the sun was soon to finish its descent. Soon, it would be Shabbat. If there was no other day to observe a kinder, Godlier life, Shabbos was the time to be at one’s best.

The wallpapers were dark and drab, as was the style – though all the lights were already lit. Though illuminated and with the occasional curio here and there, there was something very staged about the home.

“Thank you,” he said, then gestured in to the parlor where his brother was. “Shabbat Shalom.”

And thank God for sending him a way to distract Uriel.

Zechariah took the opportunity to whisk off to his office and put the papers away.

Elijah was about to ask Zechariah what he'd said when he found the man gone and he was alone with a large man. He reached out to shake the hand of the man that was like a bear in height and girth. "Ah.. I.. I'm Constable Crane. Nice to meet you.. ummm.. "He swore he'd seen the man in town but never said hello, and now it felt fairly rude to have not introduced himself sooner.

He turned his gaze toward his brother and the lanky looking fellow, his hand still cradling the pipe and his teeth gripping the mouthpiece, he gave a nod and repeated the greeting, "Shabbat Shalom. I am Uriel Meijer." He shook the man's hand.

He lowered his lashes and observed his older brother's expression for a moment before Zech disappeared. Uriel moved to sit down, folding his long body onto the settee, not really trying to connect any dots if they were there since he would never care about such things. He continued with the pipe since it was keeping him from grinning like a fool at his good fortune when he had yet to bring up the subject of his own life.

"Ah.. nice to meet you..' Elijah said nervously and remained standing. He wasn't sure if he was to make himself at home. For all he knew, Zechariah was grabbing something to return to him, though he couldn't recall anything. A question was bubbling and he felt foolish for asking but he knew he would make a bigger fool if he didn't and they assumed he knew.

"Not.. to sound rude or.. unintelligent. But.. might I ask what that means? Shabbot Shalom?"

“Have peace on Shabbat,” Zechariah answered suddenly from the doorway. “We do this every Friday night.”

Throwing Crane as a distraction at Uriel had seemed like a brilliant idea until he had a minute to think about what the two potentially had in common to talk about: him. The last thing he needed was law enforcement armed with embarrassing childhood stories about him.

Zechariah went to the window, picking up a matchbox and watching for the first three stars of the night. There were two little white candles, sitting unlit in the window.

"Well, I haven't done it in a while. I've been busy..." He chuckled. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Constable." He said and then eyed his brother, who was watching for the stars. He cleared his throat and stood up, sticking his pipe away and then pulling out the cigars he had in his breast pocket. He offered one to each of the men, they did not necessarily have to light them up, but it was the act of someone who had news to give away celebratory cigars. He had a shit eating grin on his face even if he didn't offer his news yet. He wanted to mess with his brother a little.

Elijah looked very curious at the words. "Oh? That sounds like a good way to spend your evening." He smiled weakly. The offer for a cigar had him recoil slightly as he couldn't imagine having something that smoked that close to his face, but it was clear it was for some sort of good news. He felt more awkward as he knew this wasn't news for him to hear, but he politely took the cigar though he had no interest in using it. He looked at Zechariah since he was the only one he felt he knew even if it wasn't well, and rose his brow quizzically.

Zechariah’s jaw dropped in quiet horror at Uriel’s admission, reflected in the window. His teeth snapped back together with but a raise of his brows. He was making right now, and that was what mattered.

“The only way to spend a Friday evening,” he said with a thin smile, trying hard not to side-eye his brother.

He wrinkled his nose at the cigar. Half the cologne he wore was to cover up that funny habit.

“Penina visits in here, Uriel.” It was customary not to smoke in a room that a woman might pass through. “Outside, after dinner?”

He looked again to the sky – and there they were, three glittering stars. He struck a match, lit the candles, and nodded toward the dining room where the table was already set with fragrant breads and dinner. He had to wonder if the Constable ever got a thrill in keeping others places they had not planned to be, and there was a sly glance toward him as he led them.

"Between school and other things, my schedule has not allowed for Shabbat very much." And when his brother took the cigar and got a mini scolding, he rolled his eyes and harumphed, "It's not for smoking in here, brother, I am giving them out because I have good news to share." He generally kept his smoking habit outside unless there was a room set aside for such a habit, not that he smoked a lot. He did like to enjoy his pipe every now and then. "I've gotten a position in the local schoolhouse to be a teacher of the older students, which pleases me to no end. I didn't know when I accepted the position that you lived here now, I haven't quite been in touch with the family since I have been in Bath and other places. I've been busy trying to juggle my studies and get a house ready so mother could have her sewing room at last."

There was a desperate knock at the door.