Raylan barely glances at the door when the guy walks in - Willa said exactly what he would, but the snort and the response told him plenty, earning the slide of his eyes up to the broad man.
"She's right. We're closed. Open at 4pm, you can come back then."
The guy sweeps his gaze over to Raylan, and lifts what little chin his thick neck allows him, gaze scrutinizing. "And who the hell are you?"
"The one takin' inventory, so if you'll be kind enough to let me get back to it-"
The guy walks forwards, towards and behind the bar. Raylan lets him, brow furrowing a little at the audacity of it all and he flicks his eyes over at Willa and jerks his head a little towards the stairs she'd come down from.
"Where's Lindsey?" Randall grabs a glass and starts pouring from the tap.
"Look, I can offer some coffee, if you're that hard up. Milk maybe. Hell, I'd say you can take that, if it weren't illegal to walk around with it. On the house. But you can't stay here. The bar opens at four." The tension could be cut with a knife and Raylan was in the position of protecting Lindsey from some thicknecked creep who had too much of a fancy on the local bartender.
Raylan understood that, but as he was currently seeing her in the loosest possible terms, he knew he had to be careful. Nothing antagonistic while not bending like a reed, calm and firm. He didn't want to play the Federal card if he didn't have to but he also wasn't going to cower or posture at someone who would probably cold clock him into the end of the week. Willa didn't need to see that either.
no subject
"She's right. We're closed. Open at 4pm, you can come back then."
The guy sweeps his gaze over to Raylan, and lifts what little chin his thick neck allows him, gaze scrutinizing. "And who the hell are you?"
"The one takin' inventory, so if you'll be kind enough to let me get back to it-"
The guy walks forwards, towards and behind the bar. Raylan lets him, brow furrowing a little at the audacity of it all and he flicks his eyes over at Willa and jerks his head a little towards the stairs she'd come down from.
"Where's Lindsey?" Randall grabs a glass and starts pouring from the tap.
"Look, I can offer some coffee, if you're that hard up. Milk maybe. Hell, I'd say you can take that, if it weren't illegal to walk around with it. On the house. But you can't stay here. The bar opens at four." The tension could be cut with a knife and Raylan was in the position of protecting Lindsey from some thicknecked creep who had too much of a fancy on the local bartender.
Raylan understood that, but as he was currently seeing her in the loosest possible terms, he knew he had to be careful. Nothing antagonistic while not bending like a reed, calm and firm. He didn't want to play the Federal card if he didn't have to but he also wasn't going to cower or posture at someone who would probably cold clock him into the end of the week. Willa didn't need to see that either.
Real shame he didn't have his gun on him.