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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He eyed Malcolm and his bowl. "What about you?"
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"How do you feel about Cracker Jacks?"
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"...The candied popcorn and peanuts?" he clarified. Or was it some kind of Southern slang he wasn't familiar with?
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It cut down on waste if he didn't like it; he'd never experiment like that on his own.
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"Good tickets. I hear," he noted lightly. "I didn't look at who they're playing. I hope it's an interesting... match? Game?" he asked, his face contorting slightly with the question.
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He caught the waiters eyes and pointed at the check that was swiftly collected and returned with Raylan's card. Once the waiter left, Raylan let out a breath. "Ya know, having my bank cards hacked once; places like this, they alway make me worry that it's going to have happened at just the wrong time."
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He looked over as they stepped into the street. "Subway again?"
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Made some kinda sense, though he wasn't going to be able to lay it out.
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"Yes, beer. Anything else costs too much and hell, beer is almost on that list. Beer, crackerjacks and hotdogs, if you're hungry, though I only get those once and while. Tend to be a little greasy for my likin'."
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He led them back down into the subway to find their train.
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"Yeah, I didn't think so. It takes a lot to eat after eating on top of beer; beer's heavy. It's the hops." He jogged down the stairs again, following Malcolm through the process til they were on a platform again. "How long have you been ridin' this thing? Seems like too many stops to keep track of."
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The train pulled up and Raylan gestured for Malcolm to step on first before following behind. NYC must be a busy city; he still hadn't seen sitting room and he wasn't mad about it. Any excuse to get a hand on Malcolm, some soft connection of reality.
"Taxis seem more... sanitary, if nothing else." As though to suggest that there was a big list of things wrong with the beloved public transport of the Big Apple.
"Worth the price, if you're not stuck in traffic. I read something once that said walking the streets was more time efficient for short travels but they funnel people down here because the sidewalks would be overflowing and unmoveable if everyone was up there."
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"I never thought about it. It is pretty crowded up there," he admitted, relishing Raylan's hand against him in public, even if it was disguised as pragmatism. He knew what it was. "That's very plausible."
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"Hell, the fact that they dug these tunnels out is pretty damn impressive. Feat of engineering." Which clearly fascinated Raylan and earned a little bit of his admiration. It was similar to mining. No one working on the line was doing it for the love of the idea.
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He glanced around as Raylan mentioned the engineering of the tunnels and put the same two and two together. "Oh, you dug tunnels. You know what's involved."
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"Well, mines, but they go all kinda ways. Same concept. With the lights and the car and the concrete and the tiles at your stops, you guys cover the fact that you're in a hole in the ground pretty well." But people like him were still, front brain, aware of what they were really in, if you cut out the drapes and bullshit. The 'Security Theatre' of being underground.
"Lots more room than a mine..." He glanced at the pack car. "Almost."
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AHHH SO MUCH ROLLING
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THAT ICON IS CHEATING
THAT ICON IS TRUTH
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