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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

"Sports writer of the year, right? The hard hitting stories that people want to read." he quipped.

He looked up at the map at Raylan's prompt with a laugh that admitted guilt. "Two more to go," he told him.

He moved his gaze to Raylan's face. "Does Miami have a team?"

Raylan chuckled. He didn't doubt that Malcolm could be just as persuasive on paper as he was articulate in conversation.

Nodding at the answer, he looked back down to Malcolm with another faint nod. "The Marlins, the team the stadium is currently named after. They're alright, play a good game but I don't get much into the numbers of it anymore so I couldn't tell you technically how good they are. Good enough to waste tickets on, at any rate. I hope Willa takes to likin' baseball." Or.. any sports, really. Raylan couldn't say why but they felt important. Like it trained a body how to survive or run a little faster in this rough world.

"I bet she'll take an interest in an activity she can do with her dad," Malcolm pointed out. "Going to games, learning how to swing a bat, learning to throw and catch. You'll be the one that teaches her; it'll mean something to her."

"I plan on takin' her fishing too.." The gears in his head were already turning for the long future he hoped to have with his daughter.

Raylan glanced down and smiled. "But that's a long time away. I'd hate to miss out on the now, woolgatherin' over things that ain't happened yet."

"Maybe I'm just excited to see you in dad mode with your daughter," Malcolm said with a grin. "Just your face when you think about her tells me it's going to be great."

"Mmhmm," Raylan sounded, obviously a little suspicious of the overwhelming confidence that Malcolm had down pat.

"I'd say I've got Dad jeans down but I think I deserve more credit than that." The subway dinged as they came up to their spot and Raylan let Malcolm lead the way out as he followed.

Malcolm looked at Raylan's jeans as they stepped out onto the platform, then looked at his face.

"What does that mean?" he asked with a laugh as he led the way to the surface.

He thought Raylan's jeans looked pretty damn good.

"I'm not totally sure, but twenty year olds seem to have some very serious opinions on it," he admitted with a pull of his smile as he followed Malcolm back into the sunlight. "Though I suppose with you next to me, no one is gonna be lookin' at my jeans."

Malcolm smiled at the sweet compliment, then looked at them again, then lifted his eyes to Raylan's face. "I think they might, actually."

Raylan could only lift his eyebrows at Malcolm with a squinty amused looked and chose not to argue.

"We gonna charge 'em? Come outta this with a profit?"

"I was thinking of just letting them eat their hearts out," Malcolm said with a grin.

The stadium came into view as they turned a corner.

"Do you want to get a picture?" he asked, gesturing towards it. "I can take one with your phone."

"Hearts and livers." Livers because they weren't the ones standing with him.

Raylan looked up as they turned the corner and scoffed a laugh as he looked over at Malcolm. "I'm not exactly the scrap booking type, and no one in the office cares where I've been. I think I'll be fine without a picture." He was sure the stadium would be around in twenty years, if Willa was interested.

"I'm not that kinda tourist and I'm more interested in a beer and what kinda seats we got." The closer they got, the more light there was in Raylan's eyes - an astute attentiveness that normally came with a tense jaw as he was looking for a bad guy, but today, there was no bad guy. Just good old fashioned baseball with a not so old fashioned companion. Partner. Boyfriend. The term still made him twist inside, argument verses argument that still hadn't settled and still brought him a hot rush of youthful excitement when he thought about it.

Malcolm walked along beside him, watching him sidelong, watching his face change as he took in this place that was legendary to his passions.

Malcolm took out his own phone and - with no warning - snapped a picture before tucking the phone away again.

With a smile he noted "I can see it's going to fall to me to document our family life.l

He crooked a lazy grin at Malcolm's picture insistence, eyebrows lifting a little at his declaration.

"Is that gonna be the first one? 'That one time we went to a game together'? Or 'My first real vacation in New York," he teased, one hand coming out to gesture the words across an invisible banner. "There's just never been much to document," he clarified to soften his tease. He wasn't making fun of the idea, not really.

"Not for me, either. But that was in the past." He held up finger - point of order. "We're talking about the future now and there's going to be a lot worth remembering there."

"You probably take better pictures anyway, with some idea of what they're supposed to look like. Last family photos I saw were from the late 70's. I suppose the idea hasn't changed much." He looked over with a smile as they pulled up to the ticket booth.

"But you're right. A lot worth remembering."

Malcolm pulled the tickets out of his jacket and handed them over, then handed Raylan his stub when they were given back and tucked his own away after glancing at the seat number.

"I don't mind being the keeper of that," he admitted. "It reminds me to focus on what's really important."

He liked being considered Important for things that had nothing to do with his gun and badge, just as much as he he reveled in it. Thumbing his ticket, Raylan tucked it into his pocket for.. well, more than likely, for it to get stuck into his wallet later.

He wasn't sentimental.. Until he was.

"I can't wait to get into a seat next to you," he said softly, as he pointed towards the concession stands with a brush of a touch at the small of Malcolm's back. "We've got about 15 minutes by my watch. Pro tip, if you need to piss, nows the time."

Raylan was the most important, and he took that spot with all the intangibles: his inherent kindness and sense of justice, the way he was unfazed by the problems Malcolm had that drove other people away, the way his hand brushed Malcolm's back in a crowd, even though he wasn't comfortable with people knowing he was dating a man, the way he talked about the future with Malcolm slotted into it, the way he woke up gruffly endeared by Malcolm's morning cheer, even though he clearly wasn't a morning person.

The way he looked when he saw a legendary baseball stadium for the first time, even in the midst of protesting that he was unmoved by sentiment.

At his suggestion, Malcolm gave it serious consideration. "No, I'm okay." He looked at the concession stand. "Beer, right? I've got it." Raylan had paid for lunch. He stepped up and ordered two beers and a box of crackerjacks, recalling when he saw them that he promised.

He handed Raylan one of the beers. They were bigger than he was expecting. "The game is at least three hours, right?" he confirmed, eyeing his cup.

Raylan nodded and followed behind, collecting the beer with a crooked, easy smile. Malcolm had remembered the Crackerjacks.

"Roundabout, yeah. They can go a little longer depending on how the score sits on the last inning and if they have more than nine, but that doesn't happen too often," he said as they stepped away from the line and started back towards the stairs that would led them into the seats themselves.

"If we have to skip out before then, that's okay too," he finished with a glance over. "Nice enough to see the inside of this place and a few innings."

"What?" Malcolm was so confused by what seemed to be a non sequitur, that it took him a second to connect the conversational dots. "You d... Oh. No. I just wanted to make sure I have enough time to drink all of this," he clarified, holding up the cup. A full solo cup was a lot of beer for him to get through. "We are going to need the full three hours," he assured Raylan. "And then we'll see if you want the rest," he teased, waggling the cup at him.

The statement had been fully for Malcolm's benefit. He was still learning about him and this was no restaurant or walk around a park - Raylan wanted to leave that door open just in case, but he didn't really want to leave the game early. Defeated the point of going to see a game.

The clarification made him grin again, erasing the creep of seriousness that had started to edge in.

"I will be happy to take that burden for you," he chuckled. "Baseball beer doesn't mess around, does it?" He loved it. It was excessive and sometimes wasteful and led to assholes turning into drunk assholes but.. It was the culture of it and he couldn't help but be sucked in as a drinker himself.

Malcolm smiled. "'Go big or go home' is the saying, right?"

Their seats were in section 19, almost directly behind homeplate, in the fifth row. Malcolm surveyed the field as they reached the row, then looked at Raylan. "This is a good view, right?"

Raylan nodded to one side in concession as he grinned and eyed the part of the field they came up on. Malcolm's question got a huff of a laugh and a look over with hitched eyebrows.

"I don't think Gil coulda gotten better seats." As they scooted in and sat down, Raylan removed his hat and rested it on his knee as he looked out over the field with a happy little sigh, looking as comfortable as ever.

"I didn't expect it to be this full on a Tuesday," he admitted with a look over.

"Apparently, this 'baseball' thing is popular in America," Malcolm joked as he took a tentative sip of his beer and glanced around. He pointed at home plate. "We'll be able to see them batting. This is going to really help my analysis," he teased.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

AHHH SO MUCH ROLLING

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject