It was there in the market that Oliver ran into that man again. That damned priest.

Gilbert glanced down at the olive oil that Oliver picked up, smiling and shaking his own container of water. "Italian holy water, I see," he tried to humor the other.

He wasn't sure how he remembered Gilbert, but his mind told him he had done something utterly stupid in front of this man. "What are you here for?" Oliver asked.

"The usual. Bread, some potatoes... I'm making a roast this Sunday," Gilbert offered, "It should be enough for the church and some extras."

Oliver shrugged, not liking the jabbing feeling he got as Gilbert stared at him. So he didn't go to church. It wasn't the Middle Ages or anything. "What's the olive oil for?" Gilbert asked.

Oliver strangely hesitated, checking to make sure he got the right bottle before only saying, "Cooking?"

"Ah... well, have a good evening then," Gilbert said.

And with him gone, Oliver let his thoughts fester guilt-free. There was something in that man's eyes. First off, they were pink, enlarged by the bifocals the man wore. And his skin. It was as pale as a ghost.

He would've been an monster back in those ages. Burnt to a crisp maybe. Now he was living comfortably out in the open as some priest.

Oliver scowled. He trudged back home while trying to put his head back into a positive mindset. After a long while, he was upon his home. It was small and rustic, a brick frame with an aged white trim. Fashionable nowadays, with the war destroying many weaker-framed and older houses.

But it was nothing fancy to him. Just a place to stay. He opened the door and stepped inside, immediately across from Alois' lean body. The man had already taken his coat off, and he slipped it over Oliver.

"You're shivering. How long were you out for?" Alois asked. The interrogation had begun.

Oliver shrugged and said, "Perhaps an hour or so."

Alois tutted a bit and led Oliver to the couch, murmuring, "You can't be freezing on me." He pulled the other down forcefully to sit. Oliver questioned if Alois thought the house was his too with how he was acting.

He glanced away towards the coffee table to see two cups of tea already set out. Oliver groaned, muttering, "Aren't I supposed to be the host here, Alois?"

"A horrid one. I can't believe you almost forgot this. What a pain it could've been," Alois took the bottle of olive oil away from him, "I'll go ahead and put it upstairs." He stood, gracefully making his way up the stairs of Oliver's home.

There was another word to how Alois was. Oliver snorted as he thought of it.

Alois acted like a wife.

He continued to think as he set out the cards. Perhaps they'd play a quick game of solitaire first.

Alois came back, loosening his tie and taking it off to stuff it in his pocket. He noted the game with some excitement. Maybe false. It was well-known that Oliver enjoyed these games more than Alois. Alois was an outdoors type, able to easily play football and lacrosse with the village kids.

Oliver preferred the indoors. He looked at Alois and smiled at his attempts to solve the set of cards he had put out. It was meticulous, the way Alois would put the cards away and then put his hand back to his chin, thinking. Oliver liked seeing a man like Alois think for once.

"This bores me," Alois finally admitted.

Oliver chuckled, "Well, you lost."

"This was not what I had in mind when you said you'd be dealing tonight," Alois muttered. Oliver mock-gasped, even though he didn't care for the game as well.

He stood up from the couch, shrugging, "We could play a different game, yes?"

Alois looked over at him, watching Oliver's blank expression and matching it. "Yes," he said, "We could." He got up from his spot to follow Oliver, into a different room of the house.

"What was with that woman you went home with?" Oliver asked, his library giving him more privacy. Or at least, the feeling of more security.

"Caroline," Alois corrected, "She's a lovely woman."

"I didn't know you..." Oliver sighed, his thought unfinished as he moved on, "Are you planning on dating her?"

Alois smirked at the way Oliver's expression subtly changed. His eyebrows flickered up. He was worried. "Maybe I will," he said.

"You're not dating her now, right?" Oliver asked.

There was an awkward silence between them. Two friends, at least while Oliver was here. Friends. Oliver repeated it in his head. Friends who allow each other to date.

Alois shook his head though. And the worry Oliver had thus went away.