![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Malcolm x Raylan: Cowboy Surprise
Art was suspicious right off the bat when Raylan took a week off with the express note that his phone would be Out Of Order til the next Monday, but the Chief Marshal wasn't going to look gift horses in the mouth. Not when it suggested he'd have a few days of peace, until Raylan caved to turning his phone back on again. Still, he watched the younger Marshal walk out of the office and promised himself to check into the state of Harlan within 3 days to make sure that the place wasn't on fire. The smoke would reach him before he called, he was sure.
But Art didn't have much to worry about - Raylan had no plans on staying in the state for his vacation, beyond one day spent closing up Arlo's and securing it the best way he could before getting on a plane to New York City. He wanted to surprise Malcolm - it'd been near two months since they'd last seen each other and frankly, Raylan was tired of missing him. They'd called and texted, stayed in a fairly consistent, if odd houred, touch but it wasn't the same.
Once he landed, Raylan rented a car and navigated his way towards Malcolm's apartment, stopping to grab a bouquet of flowers. It was.. Extra, but Raylan didn't want to show up empty handed, just in case. Thirty minutes later, Malcolm's door buzzer was being hit, like Raylan was here to deliver something. Well, he was, but that was half the fun.
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His buzzer sounded and he paused, mid-sentence, exchanging an odd look with his sister, who was sitting on one of the stools at his counter while they debated a story she was researching. Two paper coffee cups sat on the counter. Her contribution when she came looking for his opinion.
That was one of the things that made the buzzer sounding odd. Their mother wouldn't buzz. Gil would phone him if there was a case for him. He shrugged a shoulder and went to the speaker beside the door.
"Hello?"
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"Raylan? As in the Marshal you brought to the Gala?" Ainsley asked.
Malcolm, so caught up in Raylan's unexpected arrival, suddenly realized she was still there and looked over, giving her a warning look. "Just..." He held up a finger. "Don't start."
She smirked and sipped her coffee at him. He waved her off and opened the door to see Raylan coming up the steps.
"Hi!" he called as the marshal neared the top, unable to stop the re-emergence of that giddily happy grin. "This is a surprise!"
But god, Raylan's face was perfect and just the best thing to see. Though he felt a little self-conscious, barefoot in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. He hadn't had anywhere to be with no case to work on for almost two full days so far. He didn't bother trying to look good for his sister. If he'd known Raylan was coming....
He pushed a lock of hair behind his ear.
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"Thought that we'd had enough phone conversations," he replied with a broadening of his smile as he stopped up onto the landing and dropped his travel bag, unthinkingly reaching for Malcolm and pulling him in for a proper kiss of greeting. Somehow, he'd naturally assumed that Malcolm would be alone and didn't bother to peek into the apartment beforehand.
"I brought flowers.. I know it's kinda corny, but I didn't wanna show up empty handed."
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"No, they're nice." He said a little distractedly, then gestured behind him. "Um. You remember my sister," he said, glancing towards her. She grinned at Raylan over her coffee cup and gave a little wave. "Ainsley," Malcolm reminded him.
Normally, he would have been alone. That he already had a visitor when another showed up was a spectacular coincidence. He watched Raylan's face.
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"Shit," was the only thing he could think to say. Ainsley had been on bandwagon of sense with Jessica and Raylan did so hate to prove smug people right, however adorable or stunning they might be. Intensely Uncomfortable was suddenly Raylan's entire vibe.
After a second, he cleared his throat and tipped his hat at her. "Nice to see you again.." There was a slight panic in his eye when he looked back at Malcolm. "I'm sorry, I-.. I should have called."
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Ainsley hopped off her stool, unfazed. "Nice to see you, too." She gestured up at his hat. "You should have worn that to the Gala. Would've made the whole thing a lot more exciting."
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Predictably, he did not go back to sleep, but he did keep up the pretence of trying until Raylan did. Then he got up and started his morning: taking his medication, making coffee, reading his affirmation ("Exercise patience: with yourself and with others") and then starting his workout and yoga.
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He didn't notice Malcolm slipping out from under his arm and settled in for a few hours of solid sleep before the sunlight of the day, creeping into Malcolm's window, woke him. Raylan stretched with a semi-loud groan and rolled over, bleary eyes curiously looking for Malcolm.
Mm. Yoga. "Morning," he croaked roughly, giving him a soft, crooked smile.
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"I made coffee," he said brightly.
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"Mm, that's better." He stole another kiss before continuing. "What was the name of that move? C stance?"
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PROFILER SURPRISE!~
A highbrow accountant who'd gone more than a little off the deep-end, murdering sex workers and office companions in a spree that had shaken Chicago. He'd been to prison, but escaped during a transfer, and women in the outlaying Kentucky area had started falling dead again.
Raylan hated files, despite all the information they held for him - normally, he'd just catch the highlights, but Art had demanded they know the case backwards and forwards so they could start the hunt the next day. So he'd hauled them home and laid them out on the coffee table with a bottle of Jim Beam. It didn't take more than a few hours for him to work through the bottle and less time to read himself to sleep, one boot still propped on the table as his lean frame gracelessly laid back, files around him with on spread on his chest.
He didn't mind how it'd look; who'd see?
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He let himself in just before six, setting down his bag and his coat near the breakfast bar before straightening to spot Raylan sprawled on the couch with files and an empty bourbon bottle. He smiled softly and stepped into the kitchen to make coffee before toeing his shoes off and moving into the livingroom. Two mugs and the french press on the coffee table and Malcolm at the opposite end of the couch from Raylan, crosslegged and helping himself to the files strewn around as he sipped his coffee. By seven, his cup was mostly empty, the french press was still half full and Malcolm was still reading studiously, making handwritten notes in pencil on the actual files without considering the fact that nobody had invited him.
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"Malcolm?" He couldn't help but question it as he rubbed at one eye. "What-?"
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"Hi!"
It would be hard to guess that he hadn't slept at all for someone who didn't know him, but Raylan did.
"I have some notes on your case," he said just as cheerfully. "Do you want some coffee?"
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"Hi, what are you doin' readin' files and yes, in that order," he said as he pushed to his feet, collected Malcolm's cup and headed towards the kitchen, only stopping long enough to toe out of his boots. It didn't matter that he'd have to put them back on again in an hour - after sleeping in them, his feet needed the break.
"Not that I'm not happy to see you here but.. When'd you get in? Everything okay? I see you haven't slept.."
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He looked over at him at his next questions and then looked down and then looked at him again. "I, um... just wrapped a bit of a tough case," he explained, keeping as much of a smile on his face as he could manage. "I got here just before six. I... wasn't going to sleep anyway, after all that. But... I'm okay."
He straightened the file he was holding.
"I... I didn't tell you the arrangement we came to with my father about his testimony," he said, looking down at it, smoothing out the top page. "I have to visit him twice every ten days. So there was... that. And this case. And... just a lot of things going on at the same time."
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The woman owner of said farmhouse will not be having a good day, or any days now
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"You sure it hasn't been a month?" It really did feel like it had been some kind of forever.
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"I know you got your reasons for not leavin' New York full and proper but god I can't wait til you're here full time." It was hard having him ripped away after Raylan got used to the idea of him staying. "Til we're in Miami.."
He wanted to start their life together, however patient he had to be. However impatient he was.
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They were only in this apartment because they couldn't leave for Miami until Raylan's mission in Harlan was done. It wasn't realistic to think he wasn't as tempted as Malcolm to just say 'fuck it' and run away to their dream.
He lifted his head to give Raylan one more full, proper kiss before he carefully extracted himself from his perch, looking down at the mess he was leaving behind.
"We wreck more of your shirts," he teased with a faux-somber shake of his head. "Shall we grab a shower before dinner?"
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He took the kiss with a smile, only looking down once Malcolm started pulling himself off.
"They're patriotic. Fallen soldiers and all," he said with a grin before nodding. "Yeah. Let's do that. Then I can start supper and we can relax.. some more." Pushing himself to his feet, he carefully peeled the undershirt off and used it to swipe up whatever was left before holding out a hand to Malcolm.
"You can wash my back.. and whatever else you want, really." Who was he joking. Malcolm could do largely whatever the hell he wanted and Raylan would be happy.
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