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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"I don't even know what a morning suit is." First things first. "You okay with me going to bat sometimes instead?"
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"Oh my god, no. I never... had a preference either way, you know."
He held out his hand. "Give me your phone."
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He scrolled through images until he found one he thought was representative and held it out for Raylan.
"That's a morning suit. They have the tail coats, see?"
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Raylan looked at the picture, eyebrows curling up. "That is.. something." He glanced over at Malcolm. "Regular suits aren't an option, are they."
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Surprise, it was a suit.
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"...Flip flops?"
He was trying to think of something that Raylan would be embarrassed to mention.
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"Something with a waistcoat maybe. Duster length suit jacket. I dunno if you'd call that a morning suit or not. The shape of that back end of the jacket changes everything. I don't want it to look like I came in off work to marry you on break or somethin'. Marryin' you isn't casual." He didn't want it to look like it was casual either.
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He stole another kiss for the hell of it before pulling back. "I feel like maybe watchin' some TV and then goin' to bed, what'd'ya say?"
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Once inside, he poured a glass of scotch, holding it up towards Raylan. "Do you want one of these or another beer?" he asked.
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He wasn't teasing. Tea was something Malcolm did and a shot wasn't a glass. Couldn't hurt that much.
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"What's good?" he said of the TV. "Is there a baseball game on?"
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Raylan looked over after highlighting one 'Red River'. 1948 by the summary. "How do you feel about old westerns?"
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"I feel like I'd like to get to know them better," he replied, taking a sip of his drink.
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"I used to watch Rawhide and Ponderosa when I'd go to Aunt Helen's. I've always liked westerns. Louie Lamour books too."
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"A cattle drive up from Texas, I think it is, ultimately. John Wayne is the main guy, finds a kid along the way and takes him in, raises him as his own. Been a while since I seen it myself."
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The movie was fascinating, less for the subject matter or the old style of acting than for the insight into Raylan's childhood entertainment and how it had impacted him.
But being awake for over 48 hours was a stretch, even for a chronic insomniac who'd been living a roller coaster two days. The warmth and the scotch and the gentle pace of the film had Malcolm nodding off without really realizing he was sinking into sleep.
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Raylan didn't fall asleep in front of the tv often, but Malcolm's weight and the eventual steady breathing that he didn't quite consciously register as sleep worked his magic on him too. He hadn't been up for 48 hours straight but he was running on 4 hours sleep over the last two days and he didn't realize he was slipping into unconsciousness soon enough to do anything about it.
The last thought he had was 'We'll get up to go to bed in a few minutes', then nothing.
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