Bounty Huntin' All Night Long -WinkWankWonk-

It was 1972 when Allon first met Judas. He was twenty-eight, and a very young Priest. Due to his being in school to become a priest, as well as his pacifism, he was allowed to stay in America while the Vietnam war raged on. He had never expected to perform so many funerals within his early years of service. It never seemed to end.

There was a young man who had come to seek shelter, however, and on this very day he was reading to him a Bible verse. He didn't seem interested, but he pretended to because Allon was giving him shelter and food.

"Do you see?" Allon asked calmly, a serious expression on his face. "God's love extends to all, even sinners."

He watched his expression carefully, knowing his smile was fake.

"Yes, Father..."

A lone man stumbled noisily into the church, almost knocking over a pew. He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily; water dripped freely from his long hair and trench coat, forming a puddle on the floor. Either he had just flopped out of the nearby river like a seal, or it was pouring outside.

He shook himself like a dog, slicking back his soaked hair and walking toward Allon with purpose. From within his coat, he produced a baseball bat; though it was completely slick with rain, he gripped it as though his life depended on it.

His face was unsurprising; some kind of Asian. Not unusual for a bum. What was surprising, however, was his expression; cold and pitiless, with no trace of shame or self-doubt.

"You," he said gruffly, in a very distinctive New Yorker accent, "What's your name?" It was less of a question and more of a demand; the baseball bat didn't leave much room for doubt.

Allon stood up, reaching for his rosary out of instinct. Not that it'd offer him much protection. The man on the pew, however, attempted to sink down out of sight. Whether or not his suspicions were correct, if there was someone looking for him, he'd be screwed if they found him...

"Excuse me, sir, but I really think you should put that away before I have to ask you to leave." He replied, clutching the heavy Bible in his other hand. "If you put that away, I'll tell you my name."

He watched the suspicious man, frowning quite deeply. This was certainly an odd situation. The type of thing they didn't teach you about at Priest school.

The strange man rested the bat on his shoulder, staring unblinkingly at the priest's eyes.

"Tell me your name, or I'll do something unholy--and I don't think you want that. Neither of us do." He cracked his neck, sighing softly.

"I'm not an unholy guy, sir. I believed in the Lord--once. I don't like doing bad things. But I'm on a mission, and if you don't cooperate, I'm gonna get bad and them's the brakes. I mean, it's your choice, but pick now. I've got shit to do." He tapped his foot impatiently, illustrating his point. "Sorry, can I say shit inside of here? Forgot the rules, it's been a while."

Well, he supposed it was better to not anger the psychopath wielding the bat, and even though it was not in his nature to back down, Allon conceded.

"I am Father King. Allon King." He replied. "I am the head priest of this church. Is there someone you're looking for?"

"Who wants to know?" he asked flatly, rolling his eyes. "Isn't it obvious? I didn't ask your name because I care about you. Now, do you know the runt in the corner?" He jerked his thumb toward the man huddled on the pew.

"And if you don't know who he is, I'm pretty sure that's just negligence. You'd have to be a shit priest to not know who you let in."

He furrowed his eyebrows.

"He's a man who is seeking shelter here for a few days." He replied. He hadn't thought much about the man until now. It was often that people who dodged the draft come to seek shelter in his church. Though he would have thrown them out instantly if they openly admitted it, he didn't ask and they never said anything.

"..bbut I can't tell you anymore unless you explain what you plan to do to him." He replied, eyeing the baseball bat once again.

"That's fine," he said with a shrug, "I'll ask him. Beat it." He turned to the man, holding his baseball bat at the ready.

"Hey you, shit-for-brains! Tell me your name!"

The scared boy cowered down more. All he was doing was dodging the draft! Well, actually, he had burgalized a few stores looking for food, but still!

Allon stepped in front of him.

"Hey! Listen here, you can't the harm the boy, he's dodged the draft, but that's it!" He insisted, holding out his arms.

He laughed without feeling.

"As if. This bitch ain't a patriot, he's a betrayer. He won't help the Americans or the French, he just wants to run and hide like a pussy. And most importantly, he's my meal ticket; I can smell it on his bones, he's the one I want.

"Come out kid, before I hurt ya."

He frowned. He supposed it couldn't be helped. The man had committed a crime.

"Wait one moment." He replied, fishing the man out from behind the pew. He hoisted him up and held him by his collar. He whimpered, but otherwise he didn't struggle. "Before I hand him over, at least give me your name."

"Judas," he said, snorting unappealingly. "Now hand him over--I can practically feel my flesh melting. This place is like a goddamn oven."

As promised, he handed him over. Shoving the man towards Judas, he smiled slightly.

"You should come back soon." He replied, trying to pretend he wasn't interested in Judas's job.

Ignoring him, Judas punched the man in the face and dragging him across the dloor by his shirt, heading for the door.

"Nice knowin' ya!" he shouted at Allon, yanking open the door.

He frowned slightly. Well, he supposed if Judas wouldn't come to him, he'd just find him. It would be an easy enough job, he figured. He just had to ask around at the police station. Though he'd wait it out tonight. After all, the floor was soaking wet and he had some mopping up to do.

-x-

Later that night, Judas stumbled back into the church. He seemed refreshed, somehow; his skin glowed and there was a spring in his step.

"Hey," he called softly as he shut the door. "Guy who helped me earlier--Alan, or whatever--you still here?"

Allon looked up from his room in the back of the church. Someone was here. He set down his Bible and traveled into the entrance, forgetting he was clothed in only a pair of slacks.

"Oh, it's you!" He looked delighted, though he had only the faintest of smiles. "I wanted to talk to you. You seem like you're in a better mood..."

He frowned slightly, almost worried for the poor criminal at this point.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Yeah, you could say that. Look, you seem nice, so I'm gonna ask you for another favor. You got a razor a man can borrow? Haven't shaved in weeks." He stuck a hand in his pocket, though the other hid the baseball bat behind his back.

"Of course." He replied. "It's in my bedroom, though."

He motioned for Judas to step into the bedroom in front of him, due to his good manners.

"While you shave, do you mind if we talk?"

"Sure. Only, if you surprise me and I cut myself I'll cut you in revenge," he said without a hint of joking. He walked into the bedroom awkwardly, cradling his bat as if for safety.

Once he was in his bedroom, Allon rummaged through his dresser until he found a spare razor. He handed it to Judas.

"So, what exactly is your job?" He asked, motioning to the bathroom. "I have shaving cream in there, and a sink and a mirror."

Judas walked into the bathroom liked he owned it, tossing his baseball bat onto the floor.

"Who the fuck wants to know?" he asked, covering his face in lather. "It's my business, now ain't it?"

Allon leaned over the sink, eyeing him curiously.

"Yes. But it's interesting, and I like you, despite everything." He said bluntly, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Is there any chance I could help you out?"

"You can leave me alone to shave," he said gruffly, rolling his eyes. "I'm not a part of this new wave stuff--I'm old school. So I like personal space."

He rolled his eyes, standing back up straight.

"Will you at least stay to talk after you've finished shaving?" He asked, highly doubting a positive answer to that question.