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Jim has been rather enjoying spending weeks being moody and depressed in his suite, mainly because Sherlock's up there to make sure he's not actually all that moody and depressed. Bloody boyfriends, and their way of making life better. Jim would grump about that if he weren't pleased by it.

He's only in the bar now because his favourite distraction is asleep and anyway, they need food. Jim puts in a large order and, on a whim, asks for a current newspaper from their world. Bar provides an iPad with various headlines, and he scrolls through until he hits upon the news that NASA has discovered a solar system where life might have evolved.

He forgets about the food, and pretty much everything else for a while. Eventually he wanders over to the Window, still reading, and then just sits looking out at the explosions.

(The ice cream he bought will be melting all over the Bar at some point, so if anyone wants free food he's probably not going to object, or even notice.)

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"Not exactly," Harman says. "Shouldn't you all be from the late 19th century?"

'Originally, yes. So I'm told.'

He looks entirely unconcerned.

'But that's nothing to do with me.'

"So if anybody calls you the Napoleon of crime, will you laugh at them, or does it get boring?" Harman asks.

'Oh no, I like that one.'

If there were anyone more convinced of his greatness in the world, it would be Napoleon. Jim considers himself in good company.

Besides, it's how Sherlock thinks of him. How would he not like it?

'Which doesn't mean I wouldn't laugh at them.'

Obviously.

"And are you a professor as well?" the priest asks.

'God, no.'

Bleurgh. He pulls a face.

'That would be incredibly boring. I've no patience for teaching.'

No patience for lesser minds.

'Is this the part where I get righteous judgement? I doubt it, looking at you, but that would be very disappointing. Let's see if you can do better than the priests I grew up with.'

Harman smiles.

"Why is committing crimes better than solving them?"

'Ohhhh, you're going with let's make him examine his motives. Interesting. Are you hoping to inspire a moral epiphany?'

Good luck with that. Jim grins, and signals a rat so they can get drinks.

'What'll you have, Father? Vodka and line for me, thanks.' This last to the rat, before he waves his hand in a vague gesture, and says, 'it's more fun, obviously. Why run around cleaning up someone else's mess? I'm not a chaser.'

"A glass of red wine, please," Harman says, settling back in his seat. "And no, I am simply hoping to broaden my own horizon."

'Oh? Were you thinking of getting into the business?'

Deepen his understanding of motivation? Also good luck with that. Jim is rarely honest.

"Who knows?" Harman says, smiling with a shrug.

No point in arguing this.

Edited 2017-02-27 23:07 (UTC)

'No, you're not.'

Couldn't be more obvious. Jim shrugs, and flops back in his chair.

'Well then, what shall we discuss? What's your stance on original sin, Father?'

"The fatal flaw in creation," Harman says, "an early version of entropy, really. Definitely not to be taken personally."

'Oooh, a progressive. Maybe I like you after all.'

His eyes rake up and down him. Harman is handsome, in a stern kind of way.

'But it does rather go against the basis of faith for ninety percent of your people.'

"It does," Harman says. "I can't wait for the more progressive pope the newspapers from the future promise me. Originally from my order, it seems."

'You can't mean Benedict, surely. He's the current one in my time.'

And not particularly progressive. Quite the opposite, in many ways.

"Benedict? That is Ratzinger, right?" Harman says. "Oh no, God forbid! I mean Francis, his successor."

'Eh. Hasn't happened yet, and I'll never see it.'

Therefore, it's unimportant. Not that it was important before.

'It'll be a shame if he cleans the church up, won't it? I made a lot of money out of priests, one way or another. And so much satisfaction in them, you know?'

"That is a stable of Augias that would take centuries to clean up completely," Harman says. "But he will make a good start on some eyesores, if I can believe the newspapers from the future."

Pause.

"Mind you, they claim that a very silly reality TV show host would become president of the US, so they might come from some bizarro world."

'Oh, him?'

Jim smirks. He is dying for Hannibal to find him a door to some world with that particular monstrosity on it.

'It seems to be a widespread fate. One has to wonder exactly what's wrong with any world that would allow it to happen.'

Jim absolutely approves. Dear God, he'd make so much money. If he were influenced by that, or power, he'd have an absolute field day.

"It would be a world that has learned absolutely nothing from the past," Harman says. "A world in which school curricula have replaced 'useless' history lessons with something like computer sciences in order to make the students more palatable to the labour market."

Pause.

"Oh, wait, my world already does that."

He's a Jesuit. 'Education' is still their standard answer to any problem.

Edited 2017-02-28 00:10 (UTC)

Jim puts his hand over his heart.

'You're not impugning computer sciences Father, surely? I can't be hearing that right.'

That's not very progressive. But he grins, and swirls ice around his glass with a lazy hand.

'It looks like your world is ripe for future takeover by the Great Orange, then. But you have vampires, so a solution suggests itself without too much effort.'

"We should let our problems solve each other?" Harman says, wryly. "Always a good approach."

Jim shrugs again, bored.

'You should use what weapons you have available. It's not like the problems are going to go away on their own.'

He slouches sideways on his armchair. He's entirely louche, but his eyes are beyond sharp.

'Tell me about your vampires then, seeing as I'm not about to get the scolding I so richly deserve.'

"If you think you deserve it, why should I bore you by delivering it?" Harman smiles.

Pause.

"We call them Code Fives, from the Roman numeral. And they are dead bodie without souls, animated by a strain of virus."