tinstar | Malcolm x Raylan: Cowboy Surprise

He shook his head. "They'll be the same basic pattern, obviously, because they're both human heartbeats. But the frequency, the speed, the exact rhythm... they'll look a little different." He grinned. "I bet mine's faster than yours." He gestured towards his chest. "Anxiety."

Raylan kept his smile but he couldn't find it in him to spread it for Malcolm's anxiety. Instead he leaned over and kissed him.

"Maybe we'll get to work on a little of that in the middle of your Life things. In the meantime, maybe we clean up and sit out on the terrace for a little bit. Take in some night air." Pretend that everything was peaceful.

"Only if you're done though."

"Oh, I'm done," he said.

He'd eaten almost one and a half beans and a third of a third of a chicken breast, after all. He bounced up to grab the plates and the bowl of bean salad. It would keep for the next day. According to the recipe, it'd be even better by then.

"Do you want some of this salad to take to work tomorrow?" Malcolm asked as he put it away.

Before shutting the fridge, he grabbed a beer for Raylan. It seemed to be his evening porch-sitting beverage of choice.

"And eat in the office? Hell no. Not that your salad isn't great. Only that I think the fridge in the break room is growing something and I don't trust people to not eat it before I get to it," he said as he stood to follow Malcolm into the kitchen, stealing the plates to scrape and stack them to deal with later.

"But I can snack on it when I get home." He gestured for the beer and popped it open, tossing the cap into the trash can as he headed for the terrace, stopping to pull off his boots and socks so he could pad out barefoot.

"Maybe we order out tomorrow. Take it easy." He looked at Malcolm as he sat down. "Then you can turn your phone back on, if you have to."

When he said turn it off for 24 hours, he really meant it.

"I wonder what will happen if I don't..." he mused, toeing his own shoes off and stuffing his socks in them as he followed Raylan out. "I'm a little bit interested in how long my anxiety will let me keep it off before it starts spiraling."

"Well so long as you don't let that spiral get goin' before we nip it in the bud. I'm all for ignorin' it. If they really need you for somethin', Gil's got my number. He's a smart guy."

Raylan gave him a reassuring smile. "Consider it practice for later. For them and you both."

"I approve of Gil calling you to reach me," he conceded. "But that's it." He paused a beat as he sat down next to Raylan. "He said you guys had lunch when you came up... when Dr Whitly was stabbed. I take it that went all right if you gave him your number."

It must have gone better than their dinners with his mother.

Slipping his hand over to settle on Malcolm's thigh, Raylan smirked. "Yeah. When you went out for your case, he invited me out to lunch. Figured it might be a good idea to make nice with your boss." Malcolm's second Dad.

"We got on all right. Though he warned me about you. Namely you and how you treated his car," he said, smile curling again.

He looked about to protest for a moment, until 'and how you treated his car' came out and then he winced.

"Oh yeah. That was. Definitely a workplace hazard. There was a landmine! Did he tell you about the landmine?"

A beat. ...He wasn't sure he wanted to tell Raylan about the landmine, actually.

"It was a tricky crime scene."

Raylan grinned. "He told me it was a bomb but same thing, in the end I suppose. You wanna fill out the details?"

He was happy to let Malcolm defend himself, though none at all were needed.

"...I could." Raylan seemed interested. "Okay. So Edrisa was examining the body. The killer had shot a prosecutor with an antique flint lock pistol and then carved 'Villefort' into the guy's arm post-mortem. Which, if you know the Count of Monte Cristo, you know that's a straight up vengeance killing, but the killer also has to be familiar with the book and obsessed enough with revenge to go to the trouble of not only finding, but loading and firing a flint lock pistol which is..." He huffed a laugh. "Not easy. So I was considering all of that and she noticed something under the body and as she began to roll it over to see what it was, I noticed it was a landmine. And I saw it first, so I sort of had to do something before it exploded in her face and took out the whole team so..." He looked up at Raylan warily, because this is the part where people suggest he did a stupid thing. "I jumped on it. To stabilize it. I held the pressure plate down with my hand so the team could get out."

"Talk about likin' a book.." he murmured, face drawn into a skeptical squint the further Malcolm got into it as he let the rest process.

"So how'd you get from the mine to the window? Even if you didn't jump out it and opted to get blown out it, that's a hellva chance that you don't hit the frame on the way out."

It was stupid but it also kept his team alive. Malcolm made it through and that was all that mattered.

"Well, I got the team to leave and Edrisa and her people took the body, but nobody thought to grab the murder weapon and those things hold two shots. Two. The vic was only shot once. And I was going to wait for the bomb squad like Gil said - I really was - but the mine was unstable and I had a bad feeling about sticking around, so I calculated about how long it would take me to run to the window because there's a small delay on those things, but the window was still a liability because jumping through glass isn't as easy as they make it look on TV," he rambled, "so I used the pistol to shoot the window out as I ran and then I just... leapt through it. Though I did get a little push just as I cleared it from the explosion."

He could only listen to that, face twitching and twisting between amusement and being half impressed.

"You're a secret action hero, that's what it is," Raylan rationalised with a (mostly) straight face. He didn't disbelieve it - Gil had already backed it up and Malcolm wasn't a liar, but it did sound like some action drug movie from the 80's.

"I'm only not sayin' it's stupid because you had no other way outta the situation, I wanna make that clear," he said, gesturing with one beer ladened hand and an extended finger. "Better Gil have to repair his car then have to scrape you off a wall, any day."

Secret action hero. From Raylan. He smiled down at his fidgety fingers in his lap.

"Well. I think Gil felt that way, too, overall. But he did love that car."

Not as much as he loved Malcolm, though.

"He was a little put out with me afterwards. Not enough to take me off the case, but. Um. My father called about the murder and Gil made the whole team take the call."

"The whole team? Dare I ask how he took them? How they took him? I take it they know where you come from by now, Gil aside."

As much as he hated giving Martin any limelight, the man was regrettably an important player in Malcolm's life and far too many of his cases. Raylan couldn't discount him or his effect.

"You coulda gotten it fixed for him for slammin' into it," he offered with a smirk.

"They took it okay. He was delighted. He likes to have his fingers in as many of my pies as possible at all times. He suggested more than once after that that I was either dating Dani or I should be."

About the car, he pressed his lips together.

"Once, when I was a kid, Gil took me to Coney Island. I ate a hotdog because that's what people do at Coney Island. Big mistake. Threw up all over the backseat of the car he had at the time. My mother offered to have it cleaned or reupholstered or replaced... Gil was very offended. He said that wasn't why he was doing this and left." He looked sidelong at Raylan. "I wouldn't ever suggest replacing something I broke of his by accident if he didn't suggest that he expected it first."

That had been an evening where he thought maybe Gil wouldn't come back again. Until the next afternoon, when he picked Malcolm up from school like nothing had happened, faint aroma of hotdog puke lingering in the car. Malcolm didn't mention it.

"Of course he was," Raylan quipped darkly with a long glance off in the distance as he pulled a draft from his beer. He did so hate anytime that Martin was pleased with himself. He took the story in with a studious gaze, watching the shifts in Malcolm's feature, smiling crookedly as he finished.

"He didn't tell me that over lunch. Probably for good reason," he said, squeezing Malcolm's thigh gently.

"He's a good guy that one, I'll tell you what. I think he likes me." He hoped he did, anyway. "He told me to make sure you had somethin' to do. To keep you busy."

"He does like you," Malcolm said happily. "He asks how you're doing. I can tell by his face when he asks." He looked up. "He said to keep me busy? Well. He knows," Malcolm admitted. "He knows how I get."

"Mm," he hummed with a nod as he took another drink. "I told him I'd call if I had any questions I might need answers to. I haven't yet. I hope the next time I talk to him, I'm inviting him down to our wedding or sayin' hi to him there."

"Oh my god," he said with a broad smile. "Gil's going to come to our wedding," he exclaimed. "This is all getting very real and I like it," he admitted. He looked over at Raylan. "What kind of questions did he think you might have?" he asked curiously.

"Honestly? With you? I have no idea," he said with a laugh. "Darlin', you're so different in so many different ways that I can't even imgine what situations we're going to get into. And I can't wait to find out."

He took a deep breath, exhaling with a smile. "We probably shouldn't talk about it now, get to set into an idea but.. I like weddings. They're fun. Ours is gonna be fun. We're gonna have music and drinks and great food."

Excuse him while he and his face enthused about their wedding.

"We got vows and suits.. shouldn't get ahead of ourselves," he cautioned again, but it was clearly mostly for him. "You might say no when I ask."

Malcolm turned towards him, pulling one knee up under him so he could face Raylan.

"Sorry," he said cheekily. "Am I supposed to play it coy so it's a mystery?" he teased. "I don't know how long I can maintain that."

Raylan smirked and then extended his chin a little as he cleared his throat, bending forwards to set his bottle on the coffee table and shift enough to face Malcolm a little more properly. He took one of his free hands up with a glance at him from under his brows before he started properly.

"Then I guess maybe I should get it over with. Malcolm Bright, I never expected someone like you to be in my future but you swept in and stole me without my knowin'. And I wanna spend the rest of our days sweepin' each other to stupid ridiculous heights. Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?"

Partner felt wrong, a little too progressive for the country boy outside his realm; he was fine with having a husband. He'd had practice being one so having one wasn't a far stretch somehow. Malcolm probably deserved a better ask than them on their terrace but there was no point in dancin' around it, however well meant Raylan's plans had been.

Malcolm's eyes widened as he realized what was happening, staring at him with barely contained delight. When he finished, Malcolm leaned in and cupped Raylan's face with his free hand, pressing a warm, gentle kiss to his mouth.

"Of course I will," he said softly. He kissed him again. "Nothing in the world could make me happier than that."

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