tinstar | Malcolm x Raylan: Cowboy Surprise

All the more reason it was impressive, in Raylan's opinion. Other people would have used that and gotten more frightened of it happening again.

The high ball down the center only proved Raylan's point and he grinned at Malcolm as he turned back.

"You see that last ball you hit? Woulda gotten you at least two bases, depending on how well you run in those suits.." The last ball whizzed past Malcolm and Raylan pushed off the chain link to amble over and pick up the ballbasket that they'd use to collect them back up.

"You ever run? Recreationally, not in pursuit."

Malcolm laughed, glancing down at his outfit.

"I used to," he said. "Now it's mostly pursuits."

He bent to help Raylan collect the balls.

"Maybe in Miami we could join a rec league or something," he suggested.

His grin spread as he turned his attention back to the ground to continue the tedious but almost comforting task of cleaning up after batting. "Once I stopped playing, I stopped runnin', so I'm with ya in the pursuits pilates class. Think we might need to save the rec league for when we're old and in desk jobs. Marshal's Service is plenty workout for me."

He picked up another few balls, ignoring the fact that he just admitted that he wanted to get old with Malcolm.. Well, older, anyway.

"But something we can go too that's noncommittal might be alright. So long as we're not lettin' anyone down when we have to bail for work."

"I wasn't sure how they worked. I thought they might be... kind of casual."

He dropped some more balls into the bucket.

"But we have... our whole lives ahead, right? No need to rush."

Confirmed.

Raylan's chest felt like it was going to burst but he kept it cool and eyed the last few balls they'd need to deal with, heading that way to collect them. "Yeah. Our whole lives."

He gave Malcolm a bright smile and walked towards the pitching machine, heart beating in his ears. Raylan supposed, somewhere along the way, that he would be used to being happy again, but as happy as he was with Winona, it somehow didn't come close to the way Malcolm made him feel. Like he was more than what he could save him from, a constant need that didn't waver based on Malcolm's mood or the weather.

"I'm gonna set a 45 second delay so we can get back to the mound. You a little more excited about the game now that you know what it feels like to swing?"

Malcolm wasn't sure he was more excited to watch the game itself, but he was excited to watch the game with Raylan, who clearly loved it. Just like he'd never been interested in playing it, but playing it with Raylan sounded fun. Raylan's passion for it and his encouragement put it in a light it could never have been in when kids were throwing the ball at his head on purpose or his 'teammates' put him in the outfield because they had to have a minimum number of players and there wasn't anyone else available.

He smiled. "I'm excited to hear your insights into it. I've never paid close attention to a baseball game before."

"You're gonna regret asking for a play by play by the third inning," he cautioned. "Maybe the second if you let me drink." He didn't want to get too messy but he hadn't watched baseball with people or friends or anyone for more than a few years and part of him couldn't ignore the need to Sports.

The machine pitched its first ball as they got back to the batting plate and Raylan picked up the bat, twirling it again as he stepped up. He waited for Malcolm to get clear before he cocked his bat up at the ready.

"I've always wanted to see a game at Yankee Stadium, since I was a kid." He swung, hitting another solid ball and thinking back to when he was small and Aunt Helen would take him into town to use the batting cages there. "Aunt Helen would let me watch games on her TV when they were on, between episodes of Rawhide and Ponderosa." He swung again, having let one pass, knocking it out the park. Not all of his hits were fantastic but the vast majority of them were solid straight lines and the ones that weren't went a little wide on either side.

"New York always seemed like some impossible place, bein' so far away."

Malcolm doubted very, very much that he'd regret asking Raylan to talk. He needed, as Raylan might say, to stock up on Raylan's voice.

He smiled softly as he told the story, getting an even better picture of how Aunt Helen fit into Raylan's life.

"It's some kind of crazy kismet that we even met, isn't it?"

"Fate?" He knew the word very loosely and was largely using the context to guide him as he smiled back at Malcolm before focusing forward again. "Now that you mention it.. You're the reason I came up here. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Quarles hadn't come up." Would he still have come up?

Raylan swung again, hitting another solid ball before he let the bat fall from it's held position as he turned back around to Malcolm. smile spreading.

"Then I realize I would have probably died alone and miserable, and I don't bother thinkin' about it again."

Malcolm smiled broadly, taking an aborted half step towards him. His instinct was to kiss him, but he remembered they were in public and didn't think Raylan would be comfortable with that. He continued the step after a beat and reached for the bat instead, but raised his eyes to Raylan's face.

"Well. Not on my watch," he said softly.

He saw the half aborted decision and while Malcolm was right, Raylan wasn't going to go without touching him, and slid a hand around the side Malcolm's neck, thumb brushing a passing caress before Raylan finished stepping out of the way.

"I figure I'll get used to livin' here, even part time. Though the lack of space still rubs me the wrong way." There's so many people packed in here. "Especially if I get to come bat here now and then."

Malcolm leaned almost unconsciously into the touch.

"Yeah, I guess New York is denser than Lexington. Or Miami."

There were passes for the facility, though, and Malcolm would look into picking up an annual, so Raylan could use the cages whenever he wanted.

"How long does hurricane season last?" he asked curiously as he took up his stance with the bat.

"June to November, but that doesn't mean one always comes through. Does seem to be getting more frequent though, if I'm honest." He paid attention and global warming was definitely a thing being talked about.

"And the summer crowds can be a little crazy on their own, sometimes. Beaches get a lotta holiday foot traffic. We'll have to keep that in mind too. Don't think we can get private beach anywhere anymore in this country." He didn't know how he felt about that. Beyond sort of wanting to move to an island sometimes to get it.

Maybe they'd have to buy an island when they retired. If they retired.

Maybe having each other meant they might consider retiring eventually.

"We'll have to make sure the house will be nice and private even when the beach isn't," Malcolm said, watching a ball whiz past before getting ready to swing at the next one. He hit it and it skittered along the ground just inside the foul line.

"This is its own workout for the shoulders, huh?" he said, stretching as the next ball flew past. He lined himself up for the next one.

Right now it seemed like they were the only ones that could talk each other into not working for even a short time; retirement might happen, if its pitched the right way, but retirement was eons away. Raylan couldn't look that far ahead yet, out of fear he'd miss something in the now.

But he could get behind a nice private house where they could walk around and sunbathe in the nude if they wanted to.

"Findin' all sorts of muscles you didn't realize you had huh?" He was grinning as he spoke. "Now you know what it was like for me throwin' those axes. There's a reason we're not doin' more than two buckets. I'm not as young as I used to be and you're new."

Malcolm laughed and the ball flew by him, so he got ready for the next one.

"Was there a time when you could bat all day?" he asked, swinging at the ball and hitting it straight down the middle. He couldn't do it anything like consistently, but there was always a little surge of triumph when one actually went the way he wanted.

"God no, not all day. But I used to do hour chunks over a day, two or three. Four if Arlo was drunk and pissed off. It was a good way to.. work some of that bullshit out. Got me too tired to do anything about my hurt feelings." It was more than hurt feelings, it was all out fury, but Raylan of then didn't relish getting his ass beat again or going home into a fist fight. It didn't get him much other than black eyes and a broken bone or two.

"Now it's become the place I go to when I need to work something out in my head." Usually with Jim Beam holding his company. "Kinda a retreat from everything, I guess."

"I get that," Malcolm told him. "It's like why I do yoga."

He swung and caught a piece of it, sending it up and foul.

"Still think I need to work on breathing?" he teased. Batting might look simple, but it was physically demanding and that came with a need to control one's breath.

"In baseball? No, you've got it down. In yoga? We'll see how you do with a sun salute," he teased.

He lined himself up for the next ball and hit it with a loud crack, sending it towards the ground and then skittering the rest of the way to the end of the cage.

Raylan chuckled. "If it were anyone else, that statement might scare me." He nodded at the pitching machine. "You're already doing better than a little bit ago. Hitting the ball inside the foul lines totally counts. Though I'm afraid you might be sweating a little bit," he teased gently with a gesture towards Malcolm's back.

Malcolm laughed brightly.

"I don't know how that could be a surprise. You make me sweat every time you visit," he teased, stepping back and holding out the bat to Raylan.

Raylan hummed behind a suggestive bounce of his eyebrows before laughing and stepping forward to collect the bat. "Not enough for my liking, not yet," he teased back, letting his off hand slide around Malcolm's waist as he moved past him.

"You're pretty when you sweat," Raylan supplied, just in case Malcolm didn't know, as he stepped up to the plate and twirled the bat up into position. "And I-" Crack - It would have been a two baser, at least. "- am definitely going to need a beer after this."

He hit the next three in quick succession before stepping back, shoulders rolling as he twirled the bat again. "I know it's terrible, but considering everything, I feel a little less bad about telling you but-" Raylan looked over his shoulder at Malcolm. "I like using a bat a little too much."

He wasn't talking about baseball anymore. He was talking about the way it cracked against Dickie Bennett's knee after he got kicked in the face, or the way it connects with a body. It was deeply satisfying to his inner fury. Somehow, he didn't worry about Malcolm judging him.

"To defend yourself? Well, it's more... feral than a gun. More satisfying to the animal part of the brain where our survival instinct lives," Malcolm explained matter-of-factly. "Does that worry you?"

He winced and bobbed his head back and forth, ignoring the few balls that went past him during all of it.

"Only when it's quiet. Sometimes when it's not. There's just.." There's just some people that didn't speak any other language other than violence. "I worry about all the things I've done. The men I've killed, the compromises I've made," Raylan rolled his shoulders in something of a shrug as his eyes found the ground.

"I didn't hate pulling the trigger sometimes either."

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