milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Bonnie is sitting staring at an assignment in front of her with a look of general bewilderment and despair.

It's not even the usual assortment of laziness, general incompetence, poorly written work or excuses. It's worse than that.

"Why didn't you come and ask me fer help?" she mutters, hovering over the page with the red pen. She knows she's supposed to put a great big F on it, but there's a part of her that wonders why. And part of her wondering if she can catch him and coach him through it, or whether that would constitute cheating.

Come bother her in her ethical dilemma.

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"Good evening, Mrs. Murdock!"

That is Father Harman, coming up with two mugs of tea.

Tea is generally a very helpful substance, in his experience.

"Father." Bonnie nods, and thanks him for the tea.

"Yer got back to normal then?"

"Yes, the yellow teddy bear was as impermanent as they promised," Father Harman says.

"Well if I gets permanently stuck as a llama next year, ah'm blamin you." Bonnie says, with a small smirk.

"Is that a shape you feel drawn to?" Father Harman inquires, with an almost teasing little smile.

"Think I'd rather be a dog. I always fancied havin' a dog, but Grover would never come over again if I did."

"I can see that a sheepdog herding your boys would might be a metaphor to aptly describe you," Father Harman says.

"Yeah, though I reckon I'd be a mongrel."

"Hardly," Father Harman says. "While you may be a bit rough, I have never known you to be a bastard."

"I ain't exactly a model of good breedin'." Bonnie says, with a chuckle.

"Anyhow, I cain't have one, so maybe a cat."

"Some cats can be convinced to walk on a leash, too," Father Harman says.

"The he... heck would I wanna put a cat on a leash fer?"

"So you can take it for a walk?" Father Harman says. "Companionably."

"Pearse, my neighbours already think I'm a witch." Bonnie points out.

"I very much doubt that, id they're at all sane," Father Harman says. "And if they're not, walking a cat can't make it any worse."

"It might jus' be a nickname, but I already had graffiti on my door once this year, and I don't plan on havin' that regular."

"That is bizarre," Father Harman says. "I'd have expected better of California, even in the fifties."

"Well I knew which kid it were, and I told 'im to clean it off or I'd call the cops, and he did, but he got the idea because of the neighbours gossippin'."

"It's still ridiculous," Father Harman says. "You're a teacher, and somebody who takes in lost children. They really ought to know better."

"They took a dislike to us because of the bikers even before the boys started causin a bit of trouble." Bonnie says. "They got this society, the Rose Ladies, who elect themselves responsible for 'neighbourhood standards'."

"I'd suggest you'd just get your cat and ignore them as usual," Father Harman says. "You don't owe them your attention."

"I can get a cat without havin' ter put it on a leash, I just got to make sure it ain't gonna choke ter death in my house."

"Why would it?" Father Harman asks.

Hesitation.

"I got quite a lot of junk in my house." Bonnie says. "That's why they call me the garbage witch."

"Junk of what kind?"