tinstar | Malcolm x Raylan: Cowboy Surprise

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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"I guess that's how it started. I mean, we'd go somewhere and I'd see something that interested me... like the arch, for example. Why do we have a big arch in the middle of a modern city? And then I'd have to learn everything about it. I was just... like that." He paused a beat and looked at Raylan. "I mean, I guess I still am," he admitted. Just like he tried to learn everything he could about a murder. About how people think. About Raylan. Whenever something caught his attention, his thirst for knowledge about it was insatiable.

"I have a pretty good memory," he noted fidgeting slightly. "That probably helps." A further beat. "And I didn't really have friends so, you know. There was a lot of time for reading."

"George Washington, apparently," he replied coyly with a pull of his smile, nodding with a knowing kind of expression as Malcolm looked at him.

"Good that you got your practice in, considering your career choice. The memory helps." Raylan's smile pulled. "I hear good things about the public library here too. Think we can fit that on the agenda? I don't know where things are situated out here but I'd like to see the building, at least."

Malcolm's eyes widened with excitement.

"You want to go to the library? I love the library!" he enthused, perhaps a little too loudly. He glanced around and dialled it back. "We can definitely go there; I'd love to show you that."

Raylan laughed softly at the reaction, lifting his eyebrows a little bit and quelling another urge to pull Malcolm in and kiss him breathless again. "Thought that might get a reaction," he said, grinning as they came up to the arch. With as big as it was Raylan had to adjust his hat to keep it on as he looked up at the ceiling of the inner arch.

"Always blows my mind, people building big shit like this the hard way. It is impressive," he continued with another little nod.

"Wow, it's like you think I'm a giant nerd that likes reading," he joked back.

Stopping next to him inside the arch, he looked up when Raylan did and nodded at his remark.

"Speaking of French monuments in New York, have you ever been to the Statue of Liberty? I don't think you're allowed to vacation here without seeing it. They might stop you on your way out of town and turn you back," he teased.

"Guess I know you pretty well too," he quipped with a glance over, lips curling at the edges.

He shook his head at the question. "Never got around to it. Doesn't really feel like I need to - not with the gift shops here to the brim with shirts, snow globes, stickers and whatever else they can stick her on. I'd be more into the ferry that got us there. But I'm not vacationing here, I'm vacationing with you so I think we can get around it."

He tried to stop his smile at just a smile, but it overflowed into a grin that he ducked his head to hide before looking over at Raylan.

"I'm a destination?" he surmised. "How am I doing at that?"

Ah, he liked that look and tried to not look to self satisfied as he answered. "Well, if you were in LA, we'd be out there. Trendsetter."

He laughed, a mixture of light embarrassment and absolute delight, and gestured to his left.

"Do you want to get a coffee or something? There's a very New York sort of hipster coffee bar just across the street."

Raylan hadn't finished his lunch and the coffee was good there.

"We could even just get a cup to go, if you'd prefer to keep walking."

"Sure," he said with a bob of his head, "But I was promised street performers too." AKA Let's get it to go, and Raylan's lean frame turned to start heading them that way. "When was the last time you went out on just a walk here?"

It didn't seem like something Malcolm would do normally, and Raylan understood that it was for his sake they were out.

He glanced over.

"About four nights ago," he said, then explained. "I walk at night if I can't sleep. Sometimes I just can't fall asleep to even get woken up by night terrors. My brain just... races and.... I need to move. So I walk."

"Bet it's nicer at night. You don't worry about people messin' with you?" It was New York, after all.

"Oh..." He shrugged expansively. "I can look after myself. Besides, there's, like, a hierarchy on dark New York streets at night. Muggers don't go near crazy people. You never know what you're getting into there," he joked.

"You don't exactly look stark raving, ya know," Raylan says as they cross the street, glancing left and right beforehand. But for having said that statement, Raylan trusted Malcolm - he'd made it this far in life already without Raylan around, he could manage.

"I'm glad to hear you don't pace around in your apartment. Floors are too nice for trenches to be worn in."

"I don't look raving right now," he allowed. "But I'm not in the middle of a crippling bout of insomnia right now," he pointed out fairly. "But yeah, in that mindset, walls are... just there to close in on me."

And granted he hadn't spent that many nights with Raylan, but none of those had featured his trademark inability to sleep.......

He shook off the notion. There wasn't enough data to leap to that assumption yet.

"Do you just want black coffee?" he asked, pushing open the door to the cafe. He was probably going to go for tea, at that time of day. He had to be careful. Even if he was going to be warm that night.

"Raving is not the word I'd use," he agreed with a lift of humor in his voice. Ravishing, maybe, but Raylan wasn't about to be that corny.

"Only way to take it." Malcolm would never catch Raylan drinking creamed or sugared coffee. "Maybe I'll get to finish this one."

There was a half drank beer warming on Malcolm's counter.

Next to half-eaten Cuban food and Malcolm felt a little bad for causing a scene during a meal. That was dramatic. He tried to not be his mother.

"Any particular roast?" he asked, gesturing to the chalkboard above the counter that laid out roasts of varying origins and darkness. While he let Raylan read those over, he leaned into the counter.

"Do you still have that herbal tea with rosehip, hibiscus and cherry?"

The girl behind the counter said they did.

"I'll have one of those to go, please. And whatever he wants," he added tilting his head towards Raylan and then looking at him as he took his wallet out of his inside jacket pocket.

Raylan looked up at the chalkboard, face slowly pulling into confusion at the sheer amount of options. He just wanted coffee. The cue for his order had him looking back down, one hand reaching out to gesture as he spoke.

"Just a medium black coffee of.. whatever you like the best." He just wanted some coffee.

As Malcolm paid, Raylan turned his attention onto him with a soft voice. "I can't understand half of what's on that board."

The girl behind the counter was clearly charmed by Raylan's voice or his face or his hat and his desire for just a coffee, based on how she smiled at him before turning to prepare the order.

Malcolm nodded at Raylan's remark. "It basically just says 'coffee' fifty times," he admitted. "I don't know too many palettes that can distinguish between a dark roast from Equador and a medium roast from Guatemala..." He smirked a little. "But I'm pretty sure there are people in this neighbourhood who'd say they can."

He liked being able to do that, and gave her a soft 'thanks' before turning back to their conversation.

"Like wine tastings, huh." Raylan smirked. "I'm sure someone cares about why they're paying eight dollars for a coffee. Gives them something to do that isn't bitchin' about it. I can see paying it for tea but.."

Coffee was literally everywhere, it seemed.

"Well, I did check that she didn't try to give you the eighty dollar a cup coffee, which is made from beans... that have passed through a monkey," he said delicately, taking his tea when the barista set it on the counter.

Raylan looked at him, eyes a little wide and confused as he tried to confirm that he heard what he thought he heard. "Excuse me?" He looked over the counter. "And you're sure I didn't order that?"

He now needed to be sure.

Malcolm laughed. "I would not let you drink that!" he insisted. "I saw her go to the grinder. It's a medium roast from Kenya. It's fine. I promise."

Raylan eyed Malcolm with more than a hint of doubt and as their cups were slid to them, he took his with the same level of doubt. Walking away from the counter so as to not get in the way of business, Raylan eyed the color of the coffee through the mouth hole before taking a sip.

"Blows my mind what people will do to be unique with coffee." It was very nearly an admonishment. "This isn't bad though. I'll reevaluate the position of your french press on my preference list once I get through with it."

"If you like this more than what I have, we can make it in the french press," Malcolm told him, taking a tentative sip of tea before heading out the door and holding it open for Raylan.

Once they were walking again, he wrapped his hands around the cup. He looked over. "If we head back the long way around the park, we'll get to my place with about an hour and a half to get ready, give or take."

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