The implication that his innocence was a put-off stole a laugh from the priest, quick and involuntary.

It was a put-off? What, that he was not playing along with his attempt at having fun at the priest's expense? Malachi's mouth snapped shut to kill the laughter and listen to the rest of what the beggar had to say.

"I apologize, then," granted Malachi.

Why did Mister Tully just bring the knife closer to him? What was he afraid of? Perhaps it was a threat.

"I should not have asked you, but I am not putting on an act, either. I'm afraid you may have misunderstood me."

Francis sighed and was losing his joy again. At least he had food. "You are full of secrets. You almost stabbed me with this very knife!" He wanted to stab it into the table and render it useless for a moment or two, but it would mark the table and possibly damage the knife and he would be the one in trouble, not the man who jabbed it towards his belly.

"You offered me something to get you information. Is this misunderstood? I am happy to do that. Why are you backing out of payment? You don't even know how little I will ask for. If I like to shamelessly flirt with someone for my own amusement, who does it harm really? And that has nothing to do with this matter at hand." He poked the table harmlessly with his spoon to emphasize his point.

Was this upsetting Mister Tully?

Malachi's head tilted a little to the side as he observed him, calm in his own composure.

"When did I almost stab you?" was his first question. "Are you hurt?"

Francis stared at him silently for a full minute. Was he fucking with him?? He squinted and dropped the spoon but held the knife tighter.

"Fine, you win. Stop this game. You know what you did. Admit it and I won't flirt with you again."

He gestured to him with the knife but then immediately drew it close to his chest to hold it protectively in case the other would attempt to take it from him and kill him there.

Malachi did not hide his frown at that. He was not attempting to win some game, and for a fleeting moment the priest almost looked hurt that Mister Tully would think otherwise.

"I'm sorry, Mister Tully," his eyes watched the knife as it was gestured at him. "I did not try to stab you, nor am I trying to play with you. I'm not even bothered by your playing, but I hope you understand why I..."

A pause, brief.

"Why I have to maintain my distance. It was wrong of me to even ask you about others in the first place."

Francis narrowed his eyes, full of suspicion. He decided to test the priest and slowly placed the knife on the table. Carefully, while not turning his eyes away, he pushed it towards him.

"You didn't try to stab me, you stabbed the onion I was holding. It was so close, if you hit it too hard or missed you could have hurt or killed me. Now.." he relaxed a little but maintained an intense gaze. "That was very exciting and made me like you more. But you need to own up to the fact you could have ended me then and there."

He placed both hands on the table, "and stop backing away from your actions and words. It's a low move. I said I don't mind. And I don't want you getting close to me." That last part was becoming more sincere as he dealt although this priest. "Just God damned give me a glass of wine for a good job, or something. I might even do it for a nice enough compliment. I shouldn't have to think for you. You're supposed to be the smart one here." He sighed and went back to his soup. He'd get something good out of this day even if it killed him.

"Though really, kemble should have told you about the nun. It's only a matter of time before she returns."

The knife was placed between them. Pushed closer to Malachi's end, even, but he did not make any move to reach for it.

Mister Tully was... very determined to get some sort of confession out of him. An admission of wrongdoing, or at least of having done something, but the more he was told to offer it, the less inclined Malachi felt to do so. The beggar had been rather presumptuous about him since they'd met, despite only having known him for so long.

"I didn't meet Father Kemble, actually."

And what was he doing, taking the Lord's name in vain right in front of him like that?

"You have misunderstood me," said Malachi, firmer this time. He rose from his seat and continued, "I am here to help people in their faith, not harm them. You could just as easily end me, if you wished, yet it's on me to confess to something I didn't intend?"

He grabbed the basket from where he'd set it aside.

"I'm not interested in your information anymore, regardless, if you think such things of me."

"Kemble didn't interview you? Hm, guess it was higher up what hired you for this place. " Francis shrugged as he ate.

He looked up as the man approached and was getting very bored of his mixed signals. "You know. I'm the only one here who has been opened about who I am. And I didn't send a knife at someone's stomach. If you want to explain it to me, I am here. And.."

He leaned back in his chair to look at the other. "I came here and almost immediately thought you were a nice fun guy. But you've been acting more and more strange. So my misunderstanding is because you aren't making yourself clear. If you don't want to bother fixing that, that's on you."

Ah... no. He had not been interviewed or even hired by anyone, in fact, unless Mister Tully equated God's placement of him to the idea of being hired. Malachi did not dispel whatever thoughts he might have had on the matter, though.

"I am not here to answer to you, Mister Tully, and I hope you remember that."

To help, to serve, that was one thing. But he was not here to be known by anyone.

Covered basket in hand, Malachi relaxed from the frown that had rooted itself in the corners of his mouth.

"I am not always nice," he admitted. "But I am kind, and no one needs to know me any better than that."

No one ever would, in any case.

"Now if you wish to spend the afternoon questioning and accusing me, I have other things to do."

Francis waved his hand very casually. "I never said you were. But then don't get so sore because you are going to get misunderstood a lot. So relax and be off with your day. Just remember I am here if you need me. I made my terms clear and they weren't looking into your little diary." He smirked and went back to his soup. Looking quite leisurely, sven though he was sure this bizarre priest was going to annoy him any time he was around him. But then he could just as easily walk back out of the door.

Before he could leave, Francis called out pleasantly, "and don't stab anyoneeeee."