"Ah, you'd be too damn nervous 'round a lady anyhow when you ain't talkin' 'bout Christ. All shakey and stutterin' - come to think about it, I wouldn't mind seein' that now that I've got it in my head." 

Finn spent the afternoon in a fit of giggles, but the day could only stand for so much teasing by the redhead and Eli could only take so much. Chatter wore thin as the hours passed, when the sun and the horizon pinched beautifully into a glorious sunset upon the flat lands. It was a waiting game with the last phases of the day between the criminal and the priest, dragging out from the moment he took a seat in his dining chair, all throughout a modest supper, until the two of them would have to rise from the table for bedtime. Finn knew better and Eli was too modest than to bark orders at him. Even earlier when his rules were employed did Finn metaphorically wipe the bottom of his boots all over, threw in a curse or two, and was just shy of spitting on the ground if he had an ounce less respect for the man who had saved his hide from swinging. 

But Eli knew the kind of mess he meddled in by talking in a hardened criminal as though he were an orphan or a cripple, by feeding and sheltering him foolishly for nothing in return but perhaps a migraine and a few atheistic doubts. That, or bitterness towards a cruel God for damning him with the terrible man. Whichever was worse. It was by Eli's own choice that Finn was even alive and more importantly inhabiting his home as well as even entertaining the thought that he could be reformed. It was plenty foolish, but Eli would realize that soon enough. 

By twilight Finn found himself a sore and tired slump, his muscles aching and stiff that perhaps it would have been better be died that day. At least then his body would be at ease and his muscles and eyes wouldn't burn so sorely. When he could take no more of the hard wooden chair, having exercised every possible position, he stood and followed with a prompt crack down his spine. 

"S'ppose today was rough. I'm foldin' early, so we don't have to dance around the idea of watchin' each other till sunrise. I ain't gonna shoot you in your sleep or nothin' like that, not like I even could anyhow." Finn stretched tall, his long arms twisting over his head and up near the ceiling until he rolled his sharp shoulders with a billowing yawn. He stepped from the dining table and into the more personal area of the living room where he already worked at a lazy tug of his shirt over his head after the first few buttons were managed, with little to no regard of Eli's attention of his meandrous strip. "Where you want me? Hogtied on the floor where I can't do nothin' or do I get to sleep free tonight?"