Episode: 1.6

--- Jericho ---

“Good you’re here.” Samson nodded to him as he walked through the church entrance.

“What exactly am I here for?” he asked running a hand down his face, and really wishing he could go back to sleep.

“First help me set up,” the old man told him gesturing to a stack of chairs. “There’s a youth group coming through today.”

He let out a frustrated sigh before making his way to the chairs, and because he couldn’t help himself, he asked the priest, “Regular youth group or cult youth group.”

“We are not a cult.” The priest growled through his teeth.

He just rolled his eyes.

(The way he always argues that you’d think I was accusing him of being part of the Cheshire Cult rather than a semi-sane one…)

A smirk grew on his face.

(Which is why, I must…)

“That’s exactly what a cult leader would say.” He nodded setting the first chair.

“We’re a church, the same church your father went to, was he part of a cult?” Samson asked with narrowed eyes.

(If it’s the old man we’re talking about…)

He thought about it for a grand total of three seconds.

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Sam the priest opened his mouth to say something before pausing as he thought about it himself. After a moment the priest gave a wary shake of his head, “Sadly, neither would I.”

“So… am I here just to help you set up for your cult meeting,” he began, setting another chair for a poor innocent and impressionable youth, “or did you actually have something you wanted to talk about?”

Samson sighed, “After we set things up. I still need to set out drinks and such for the kids.”

“Don’t you have people drink the blood of that guy?” he pointed a thumb at the figure painted onto a stained-glass window above the church’s entrance.

“It’s wine, it’s supposed to be symbolism!”

“So, you admit to both lying to the people, and wanting to give underage minors alcohol…” He countered without missing a beat, “Sounds like very cult-y things to do…”

Samson stared at him for a moment before letting out a sigh as he pinched his nose. “More, and more I wish I could kick your father’s ass for leaving me with you.”

“Hey, you just said a bad word in church!” he scolded the priest.

“It’s in the bible!” the priest shot back, before turning back to his work, “Besides ass isn’t a bad word.”

“Then why’d I get in trouble for saying it in pre-school?”

“A, we both know you didn’t go to pre-school.” Samson pointed out as he set his last chair. “B, even if you did go, you probably would’ve called, your teacher an ass, before pulling a knife on them.”

“I was too advanced for my age.” He admitted with a hand upon his chest and grinning like the devil.

“Yep, four years old and you were already mouthing off at a college level.” Samson laughed sarcastically. “Swear, no one else in your family gave me this much trouble.”

“Hey, you are part of the family…” He told his surrogate uncle. “Besides didn’t the old man get you both thrown in Jail way back when?”

“Yes,” the jail bird turned priest admitted, “and somehow you’re still more trouble than him.”

That made him pause for a moment, before smirking.

“I think the old man would be proud of that.”

“Don’t be…” the priest glared taking a seat.

“I’ll try… and fail.” He grinned taking his own seat next to the priest, “So, in all seriousness what did you need? While I don’t help the place out, you know me, and the church don’t mix for very long.”

“Right,” Samson smiled his annoyance melting off, “I’ve found you a job.”

“A… job?” he repeated cautiously, because while he made most of his living helping people, (and robbing banks apparently), jobs from Sam the Priest had a tendency to go… awry.

“Yeah,” the priest nodded pulling a cigarette out of his jacket, but not lighting it, “I figured you need a little something more to do, else you’ll get bored and drag that poor Rook girl into some kind of trouble again.”

“Really, that’s,” He paused just long enough to think about the last week, what with robbing a bank, making a few people… not alive (/dead) and turning Rook into his… partner (/unwilling accomplice), “That’s not entirely wrong…”

“Um, well…” Samson blinked, as if surprised by the fact that he was owning up to his issues, (which is a little insulting all things considered.) “At least it isn’t as bad as the stuff you got up to in… high school, right?”

(Yeah, it’s somehow worse.)

He sighed to himself, before giving Samson a solid four on his glare scale, which for normal people was probably about an eight.

(You’d think a priest would be better at comforting people.)

“Right…” Samson coughed into his hand before pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket and handing it to Jericho. “As I was saying, I need you to go pick up an order from DiMaggio’s, he’s got a new shop over in the Westchester shopping center.”

He took the ticket and gave it a once over. “No offense, but getting your dry cleaning isn’t exactly a proper job.”

“It’s one of DiMaggio’s suits.” Samson stressed.

(DiMaggio… didn’t he used to make-)

“Oh,” he nodded, getting it.

“Yeah, Jacob Franchetti has decided to have his wedding here.” Samson gestured to the church.

He couldn’t help but wince at that, for a fair number of reasons on his part.

“Wasn’t Jake one of the few good members of the Franchetti family?” He tried offering the priest his sympathies. “I sincerely doubt he’ll start anything.”

“I’m not worried about him. Jake got out of that life; it’s the only reason DiMaggio is making his suit in the first place.” Samson explained

“Then it’s the rest of his family.” He realized, after all just because Jake got out of the life, didn’t mean his family weren’t still in it.

“Yeah.” Samson nodded; his tone resigned as he looked more than ready to kill for a light.

“Your church has been neutral ground for nearly fifty years.” He reminded the priest. “Half the old schools have been married here. I really don’t see any of them trying anything, not if they don’t want to piss off everyone else in the family.”

“It’s not the old Franchetti’s I’m worried about.” Samson explained, waving off Jericho’s concerns with his hand. “It’s this new generation, almost all of them are running with the East Market Enforcers nowadays.”

He flinched, before rubbing the back of his neck. “Y-yeah… s-sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Samson gave him a stern look. “You and Aiden may’ve pissed off a lot of people that day, but you did the right thing. Don’t you ever regret that, kid.” The priest’s expression softened after a moment, before he gave a wry grin. “That said, please do me a favor, and stay away from the church on the actual day of the wedding. I don’t want to get blood on my floor when the old schools try to kill you.”