He saw that twitch and let the hand closest to her move to his side--not grabbing her, not without her making the move at her own pace, but leaving it on the seat, an invitation for her to take it should she wish.
He nodded again, closing his eyes briefly. "There's more to using a gun than simply pointing and shooting," he said. "Let her teach you if you want to learn. Or ask me," he said. "Though I'm not sure how well I'd be able to teach you." There was a difference between the utilitarian use of the police and Resistance at home and Gun Kata. He'd been trained to use weapons as an extension of himself without even thinking about it. He had no clue if he'd be able to teach another who was completely unfamiliar with the weapon to use it competently. He'd spent some amount of time instructing younger Clerics, of course, but they had been half-trained already.
He wasn't at all sure what he thought of Beauty learning to use a weapon, now that he thought of it. It was her decision, and he had to admit that right now his own hands itched for his pistols, but he couldn't see her with a weapon. She was made for books and art, not weapons. It seemed like a sacrilege to arm her. "If you'd like me to accompany you until these men are caught..." He didn't want to force dependence. But neither did he want her hurt again. She should never have been hurt in the first place.
The moment she was out of sight, he vowed to go hunting. He may not have had his pistols, but a Grammaton Cleric was never without weapons.