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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He'd thought she'd sound more proud, but she didn't. She sounded like this had always been expected and anything less than what she imagined was shit on her heel. He didn't like that, one bit.

Whatever was going to follow was interrupted by Ainsley's entrance, and there was no arguing with the peppy bright way she greeted him. Clearly this was a genetic thing that the Whitly children shared. Raylan grinned at the enthusiasm, even as he glanced over at Jessica and her quip.

"Well someone besides Malcolm has to be here to be happy for you. Journalism is the only place where a desk job is good news, anyway. Congratulations. You excited?" He knew she was.

Jessica raised an eyebrow in Raylan's direction, but didn't comment. He was getting bold.

Ainsley laughed. "Well, I suppose that's true," she conceded, though she glanced from Raylan to Malcolm and back. "But they do call a desk job a 'promotion' in your line of work, right?" she teased. "Not that I can picture either of you doing anything that involves sitting still." She looked at Jessica. "Who does a girl have to kill to get a glass of wine around here?" she joked lightly.

Jessica gave her a dark look, but didn't scold her. She got up from her seat. "If we retire to the dining room, I'm sure you'll find there's wine on the table."

Ainsley flashed Raylan another bright, cheeky smile and headed in that direction.

Ignoring Jessica's eyebrow entirely, he kept his focus on Ainsley. "Only on paper," he assured with a grin and a glance at Malcolm. But she wasn't alone in her inability to see them at desks; it wasn't a look either one of them were really into.

Pushing to his feet, Raylan left his hat where it was and slid an arm loosely around Malcolm as they headed towards the dining room, breaking off from him to idly pay more attention to the walls and what was on them. He doubted they were going to sit down directly and his last look was a little hasty. It was a pretty house, an impressive one, despite where it was located. Ornate even, and though the paint was kept modern and tasteful, he could still sense the age of the house under it all.

Raylan's arm around him was like a tether that grounded him to their life as this one threatened to sweep him away. He drew up beside Raylan as he looked at the paintings, standing almost shoulder to shoulder with him.

"That one's a portrait of my great great aunt Lucy."

"I know the Givens line goes back a while, but Arlo only ever talked about his daddy and he hated the man. Wouldn't keep any pictures and no one seemed to like the man anyway. Frances only had a few polaroids of her family up the mountain.. It's almost impressive how many greats you could probably trace.." Raylan looked over. "She ever look into it?"

'She' being Jessica.

"I don't know," Malcolm admitted. "But their portraits are all over the house and she knows all their names," he pointed out. "I don't think she'd admit to any sort of academic study of our genealogy, but I'm pretty sure she's also got a really good handle on it."

Ainsley sat at the table and poured herself a glass of wine. She looked over at Raylan and Malcolm as she took a sip, speaking quietly between themselves.

"He didn't drag you into any murder investigations since the last time we had dinner, did he?" she asked Raylan with a mischievous grin.

"Hmm." That was an interesting answer. He assumed that meant that there was something in the family history that was a little sordid and shameful; why else would she not tout it like she did everything else that she could within reason?

Questions for later as Ainsley spoke up from the table. Raylan looked over and quirked a smile. "Nah, I kept him busy with somethin' just as fun. Baseball. Well. Batting, anyway. He's pretty good for a guy who's only done it a few times."

Reaching around to pat Malcolm's hip, Raylan stepped back and towards the dinner table so it didn't seem like he was avoiding her, or their mother, or anything else, for that matter.

"So what got you this promotion? If I dare ask." The most innocent things seemed.. so complicated with this family, Raylan wasn't sure where that line was.

Malcolm moved with him towards the table, but at the question, he looked at Ainsley a little grimly. She ignored him pretty pointedly.

"Well, my interview with my father ran nationally and then they started giving me more prestigious assignments until the anchor position came up," she explained.

Malcolm stepped around Raylan and slid into his seat.

"He does get attention," Raylan conceded, glancing at Malcolm before choosing the chair nearest to him to sit down in himself. "Not a bad way to climb the chain. Is the desk the end goal, or do you got somethin' bigger than that planned?"

Generally, Raylan didn't care for journalists. They were.. annoying, to say the least. But he could find room enough to be pleased for Ainsley's achievement.

"Well. Not this desk," Ainsley said coyly. "I want a national newscast," she told him eagerly. "CNN. MSNBC. Something with reach."

"That mean you plan on stop going out to the field?" A little disappointing, that, but she had a chance to redeem herself. "Somehow, sitting still doesn't seem to quite fit you either. I caught that 'interview'." Is that what it was called? He wasn't sure - it was a unique situation.

"The desk is the door to getting the really big exclusive interviews," she said, leaning forward. "Important people, controversial people... they don't want to talk to the news girl on the street. They want to talk to the most recognizable anchor," she pointed out.

"So more Barbara Walters than Anderson Cooper. Well good. Keeps you largely away from the terrible in the world. Except whatever's on the paper they put in front of you. Once you go national, even I'll be able to catch you on the tv." He gave her his best grinned smile.

She'd be alright.

And so could Malcolm, once they lived in Miami, but there was no way he was mentioning that.

His expression seemed calmer, though. Less like a rabbit on alert, as that thought came to mind.

She grinned back at him. "Good; tell all you friends," she teased, picking up her glass to take another sip.

"See?" Jessica said to him. "I told you it was a step in the right direction." She picked up her own glass and tilted it towards Ainsley. "To steps in the right direction," she proposed. Ainsley giggled and clinked her glass against her mother's.

Neither was Raylan; yet. He didn't want Jessica trying to shut that down before it got started or her getting into Malcolm's head and endangering the whole plan with some stupid excuses or something.

He huffed a chuckle at Ainsley's statement - you kinda had to have friends first, but he wasn't going to mention that.

Cheers were cheers, and Raylan lifted his glass up with them before taking a sip.

"When do you start?"

"Monday," she said happily. "I'm not sure I'm even ready, but I'm excited."

"You've been ready for this since you did that school project for social studies, where you made the news video and played all the parts," Malcolm told her. "Including the sports announcer and weather girl."

Ainsley laughed. "I can't believe you remember that."

He gave her a look. "You made me be Bill Clinton in your exclusive interview with the President."

Raylan chuckled. That was an image.

"Tell me you've got it on tape."

"No," Malcolm immediately responded. He looked at Ainsley, raising a stern finger. "No, you don't."

She looked at him over her wine glass and he gave her a withering death glare. She looked at Raylan and winked and took an innocent sip of her wine. Malcolm gave her an 'oh come on' look. She raised her eyebrows and looked at Raylan as she set her glass down. "I'm sure I have at least two of his ballet recitals, too."

Malcolm spread his arms incredulously. "What did I ever do to you?" he exclaimed.

He could only grin as he watched the back and forth, having a fraction of grace enough to busy himself with another sip of his scotch as he glanced at Jessica, reading her demeanour as her children bantered.

"We might have to make a deal later," he said, eyebrows lifting with the bob of his head. "He doesn't have to know." Raylan looked over at Malcolm with a mischievous smile of his own. He was joking - he'd never encourage Malcolm out of the picture.

Malcolm put a hand over his heart dramtically. "Betrayed," he opined. "Betrayed by everyone I love."

Ainsley looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" he challenged.

She shrugged with a bit of a smirk and glanced at Raylan.

Raylan chuckled and emptied his tumbler. He didn't feel like he could say anything, not really, not with that declaration out there, but he didn't shy away from meeting Ainsley's glance.

"Builds character, or so I'm told. Alls I got is a few pictures, so I gotta enjoy someone's misery."

"Okay, but why is 'someone' always me in this house? I'm sure we have embarrassing videos of Ainsley as a child."

"Her videos are exquisite, darling, she was born for the screen," Jessica informed him, possibly a little more coolly than necessary, as she poured herself another glass of wine.

Oh dear. She was displeased. With Malcolm, specifically. He didn't say anything to that and - luckily - Louisa entered with a tray of soup bowls just then, setting one in front of each of them.

Once she'd set the soup down, she noticed Raylan's empty glass. "Another, sir?"

"I think said tape includes her, so we got that covered too," he assured, only glancing at Jessica and her cool comment. He could guess why she was displeased and the reason wasn't a good one, so he wasn't going to pay her any attention for it.

Raylan glanced up at Louisa as she came in and answered with a glance at the glass and a 'Yes please," before picking up his spoon.

"Does that mean there's tape of you.. tap dancin' or something?" He asked Ainsley. He knew he'd asked Malcolm about it before, but he couldn't remember what, specifically, Ainsley had done as a kid. Over all, Raylan was more interested in learning things about Malcolm.

"Show jumping," Ainsley reminded him. "On horses. Oh god, can you imagine if I did tap dancing? I might have gotten beat up more than Malcolm did," she noted.

Malcolm rolled his eyes and poked at his soup. He would have liked to argue that point, but it was pretty valid.

"Anyway, you can barely see me in the tapes. You can't tape horse jumping from close up," she explained.

Raylan scoffed a laugh. "As opposed to show jumpin' on goats. Kentucky's kinda got horses down pat." And he did not need any education on them or filmin' them.

"An oddly good out though." It was almost congratulatory. "We'll have to do with the tiniest news anchor instead."

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