"- And then, Belle trades her own freedom in exchange for her Father's!"

"Foolish girl." Flambeau muttered, patiently listening to his son's explanation of the book that Father Brown had been reading to him, "And so the Beast imprisoned her instead?"

"Yeah!" Sidney nodded eagerly, "But it's good, because he can then make her fall in love with him!"

"… Right."

Flambeau tried to ignore the parallels.

"Alright…" Thankfully, Father Brown seemed to have taken pity on him, "… I think Mrs McCarthy was looking for you Sid. It's almost time for you to go home."

Sidney groaned theatrically, throwing himself back against the bed, "She keeps wanting to tell me stories of Lucifer all of a sudden."

"Ah." Father Brown glanced over at Flambeau, who looked amused, "Well, maybe one more night here won't hurt."

That was just what Sidney wanted to hear, immediately climbing onto the bed with his Father and snuggling up close. Within seconds, he was asleep.

"He needs introducing to a better range of literature." Flambeau sighed, "Les Miserables or something?"

"A little heavy going, don't you think?"

"A story about an escaped criminal changing his life because of a child." Flambeau raised an eyebrow, "I would have thought you'd be all for my choice."

"How about the stories of King Arthur?"

"And my choices are heavy going?"

Father Brown chuckled, "Fair point."

They fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of Sidney snuffling occasionally.

"I am… not under any delusions that you'll stay for his next birthday." Father Brown softly spoke up, "But… he would like you to be there I believe."

"… We'll see."

If Father Brown and Sidney were at risk still, there was no chance he would put them in more danger.

Sidney was still so innocent.

There was no way he was going to ruin that.

….

"Distraction is important." Flambeau explained as Father Brown slept on beside him, Sidney sitting at his feet, staring up at him in amazement, "A true thief handles their target delicately, with finess, whether it's a wallet or a piece of art."

"Really?"

Flambeau made a mental note to set up some mannequins with some bells on as a little test.

"Really."

"… What if I get caught?"

"Play the innocent." Flambeau smirked, "Remember, a small white lie is better than anything complex. It's easier to remember the details."

Sidney nodded eagerly.

"Good." Flambeau couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride, "Now remember to start off small at first. You can work your way up to chandeliers and things like that."

"You've stolen a chandelier?!"

Flambeau rather enjoyed having someone's rapt attention like this, "They believed I was a repairman, someone to fix it."

"How was it broken?"

"I broke into the house and broke it of course."

It was no surprise when Sidney's laughter woke the Father up.

"And just what is so funny?" The older man mumbled sleepily.

"Nothing." Flambeau cut Sidney off, "Nothing at all."

The Father gave them a suspicious look, as Flambeau swiftly came up with a lie. "I was giving him some riddles." He explained, "Sidney was happy that he'd gotten one correct."

Yes, he knew the Father would see through the lie, but he also knew that the Alpha would just let it go with a fond smile.

Which is what he did.

"I think Mrs McCarthy is coming soon to pick Sidney up." Father Brown warned the omega, "You might want to get out of here."

"An excellent proposition." Flambeau got to his feet, hesitantly reaching out and giving Sidney a quick ruffled of his hair, "I shall see you soon."

"Okay!"

Thank goodness his son wasn't the clingy type.

….

In a small village like Kembleford, it was relatively easy to walk around without a disguise, with many residents being completely unaware of who he was.

No wonder so many outlaws came here.

And then committed horrible crimes that the Father enjoyed solving.

You win some, you lose some.

Silently, Flambeau made his way to the burnt wreckage of the Father's home, hoping that he might find some clues there.

….

Sneaking past the officer on guard, he entered the home and immediately the accelerant that had probably been used.

But where had it started?

Scanning the living room, Flambeau's eyes landed on the broken window and the scorch marks underneath.

Some sort of Molotov cocktail?

He moved closer to examine the marks, confirming his suspicions.

"Right." He sighed, "So, where are you hiding?"

…

"Is he coming back?"

Father Brown looked over at Sidney, who was staring at the door intently. "I'm sure he'll be back soon enough. Mrs McCarthy seems to be very happy to let you stay another night here." He gave his son a stern look over the top of his glasses, "I suspect you might have a hand in that."

Sid didn't deny the claim, eyes still on the door.

"… What if he doesn't?"

Father Brown chose not to comment, clearing his throat.

"Time to sleep Sid." He whispered, "You'll see your Mother in the morning."

"Promise."

"… I promise."

Father Brown watched as his son curled up beside him, turning a silent prayer to God, that he didn't have to break that promise.