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 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."

Malcolm smiled down at his soup as Raylan gently asserted himself, finally taking a bite.

"But if I make national, we'll have to make sure you have a big enough tv to appreciate it," she teased back.

He snorted. "Most TV I manage to watch is whatever happens to be on in the office that I only spend a few hours of a week in." He wasn't going to mention where he lived or why there was no room for a tv of any size, really.

"The Marshals keeps me too busy to catch much of anything."

"Well," Ainsley said with a big smile, "Malcolm has a big TV when you're in town."

Jessica cleared her throat. "I'm sure the Marshals keep you much too busy for a lot of things. Like vacations."

Malcolm gave her a warning look, but she ignored it, her eyes on Raylan.

"And yet, here I am," he said with a smile as he turned his hazel green eyes onto her. Oh lady, he was ready to dance if he had to. "Unfortunately, sometimes the job and what comes with it forces a marshal into a.. you can call it mandatory vacation."

He had to be careful here.

"Better I blow off my steam here than in Harlan, where I wouldn't be vacationing at all. Pretty sure Art's already called down three times to make sure I haven't set it on fire or somethin'."

"Blow off steam," Jessica echoed, looking over at him. "Instead of setting things on fire."

"Gil's forced me to take vacation, too," Malcolm reminded her. Not that he felt he should have to, considering how she was his accomplice. "That's how it goes."

"Hm. And once your mandatory vacation is over? How are you two workaholics going to find time to even talk?" she asked innocently with an innocent sip of wine.

'Oh," he said, face pinching with a bob like it was nothing. "We'll do that at home. We're gonna be getting an apartment in Lexington so he doesn't have to sleep above a bar. I know how distasteful regular livin' is to you, so I figured that's the best way to meet his needs and still get to see him more regularly than I do now. It'll do til we get to Miami."

Oh, were they talking about this to other people? He never knew where the line was.

Ainsley hid a snort behind her glass while Jessica looked at Malcolm. "Excuse me?"

His gaze moved slowly from a slightly surprised look at Raylan to a very practiced innocent look at his mother. "Which part is tripping you up?" he asked extra-innocently.

Jessica just gave him a withering look and turned her attention to Raylan. "Do you really think you've been around long enough to understand what you're getting into?" she asked bluntly. "Because I'm not sure you've even seen the tip of that iceberg at this point."

Malcolm gave her an indignant look. "I'm an iceberg now?"

"I know you're desperate to cling to whatever crumbs of affection you find," she told him, "but leaping into this without thinking is only going to get you hurt," she informed him matter-of-factly. She looked at Raylan again before he could protest that. "And I don't have any idea what your game is..."

"He doesn't have a game, mom," Ainsley said with an elaborate eyeroll. "Why can't you just..."

Jessica held up a finger in her direction to cut her off, her eyes not leaving Raylan's face.

"But I'm not convinced you looked at this situation and decided you wanted to be a part of it," she said, gesturing towards Malcolm. "No offense, dear," she added as an aside that Malcolm just blinked at. But his hand, next to his soup bowl, was starting to shake just a little. "Which means," she continued, "that you want something else."

Raylan took it with a laugh that was tucked behind a glanced down look and a closed lipped smile like she was telling a joke he'd heard before but was never tired of, before he returned his eyes to hers, crescent moon eyes waiting patiently for her to finish. If she thought she could cut him with words, she was deeply mistaken.

"Ma'am, I've been dating your son for roughly nine and a half months now. I do not care about your money or your servants, or your nice house," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand at the opulent surroundings. "Nor do I give much of any shit about how far back it is or how powerful you think you are. The Marshals service doesn't pay me nothin' and I have lived poorer than your privileged self can even imagine, so there is nothing here that I want except your son."

He leaned forward a little, moving the soup aside so that he could more freely rest a gesturing hand and forearm on her too nice table.

"I know this is hard for you to swallow, with all the plans you had for him, and I know that I am.. less than ideal a choice, I'll grant you that." If any protest came from Malcolm, he'd hold up a finger, gaze unmoving from Jessica. "Let me make it.. crystal clear. I'm datin' Malcolm because he is a delightfully empathic, kind and earnest man who is tryin' to drag himself above the shit line of his family - Completely Martin's fault and I'm happy to punch him out again if you want me too," he continued with a wave of his fingers.

Normally, he would have stopped there, but his back hairs were up and he didn't want this to linger any longer than it would with straight on attention.

"Now you can be happy for him, or you can sour it and your relationship with him because you refuse to let him out from under your thumb. That choice ain't got anything to do with me."

Right now, he was just the mediator.. or so he'd set it up to seem that way, if he could. Just the arbiter between her and the reality that faced her, no personal offence taken or meant.

He was untouchable.

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