Fried Chicken - Raylan's weakness. "Know the right way to my stomach," he commented as he got up from his desk to follow, chin lifting as though that really gave him a better look at the flyers in Tim's hands.
If Raylan's desk had them, he'd overlooked them under a mass of pens and abandoned post-it notes. More likely than not, considering how little attention Raylan ever paid to it.
"If we get the chicken, I'll pay," he offered with a gesture at the menus. "Maybe I'll even not ask about the types of dinners you get up too when you're not stuck here at work with me." You know, the ones 50 miles out of town. The one he'd never spoken about before but god was he curious.
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If Raylan's desk had them, he'd overlooked them under a mass of pens and abandoned post-it notes. More likely than not, considering how little attention Raylan ever paid to it.
"If we get the chicken, I'll pay," he offered with a gesture at the menus. "Maybe I'll even not ask about the types of dinners you get up too when you're not stuck here at work with me." You know, the ones 50 miles out of town. The one he'd never spoken about before but god was he curious.