Work Text:
"I've told you before, Father, I get restless," said Flambeau one morning in the midst of a debate over whether or not they should take a holiday to the Lake District during the coming summer. "I'm not the settling down type, you know."
Father Brown lowered one corner of the newspaper he’d been perusing and glanced across the table containing the remains of their toast and eggs. He raised one eyebrow. “Yes, Hercule, so you told me when you purchased this house.”
“I was badly injured and needed a place to recover,” Flambeau countered.
“And of everywhere in the world, you chose a place five-minutes’ walk from my parsonage.”
“Well, I knew I could manipulate you into helping me,” he said, carelessly, lifting the lid of the teapot to peer inside.
“You were correct. I helped you recover, and helped you set up your private detective business. I helped keep you company many a quiet evening. And now I spend three or four nights a week helping," Father Brown paused, one corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "...helping you sleep."
“Merely a temporary arrangement, I assure you. Not at all the same as settling.”
“It’s been a temporary arrangement for nearly five years now, I believe.” Brown hid his face behind his newspaper again, but the smile was clear in his voice.
“Yes, well,” Flambeau replied, concealing his answering grin behind his tea cup. “It is likely to go on being temporary for some time.”