Slingin' from the hip, never the heart. | Open Post

Raylan's job took him everywhere, from Harlan to Los Angeles to Paris. The Marshals service was demanding but Raylan leaned into the work, traveling as needed to get to get his man.
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Then she sits down on the porch steps, staring after the retreating, naked guys who were clearly going to hurt Raylan whether he listened to them or not.
"What?" She feels slightly dazed when she looks at him. Shakes herself out of it, parses what he said. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Uh... I think I lost my temper."
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Raylan slides his piece back into his holster and moves to sit beside her with a heavy sigh, elbows propped on his knees as he looks over at her.
"You've gotta be careful with those. Tempers." He should know. "But you didn't harm 'em and that's what's important... Sure as hell a step up from blowin' up all the mugs in the house, huh." His lips curl softly, trying to let her know that he's not mad at her or scared of her, though maybe a reasonable person might be. He'd seen too much with her to be either of those things.
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Then he makes the crack about the mugs and it surprises her into looking up. Seeing his expression without judgement, his tiny smile.
Athena shifts enough to press her face against his shoulder and grab on to him loosely with both hands.
“Guess I just. Got fucking sick of being scared,” she mumbles.
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"One of these days, we're gonna find you a place where you can work on bein' sick of being disgustingly happy. I'm sorry that it won't be here.. No one oughta be raised in Harlan so.. I'll try to make your stay here as short as possible, I promise."
That was the only promise that he could make and keep. Keeping his promises to Athena were a paramount importance.
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"Those guys are totally coming back, huh."
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She chews her lip for a second, catching a bit of loose skin in her teeth and wincing. "Do you think he'll want to kill me or catch me more?"
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Raylan looks down at her. He'd been knowing and chasing Boyd for too many years to not know what the man was going to do next. "I'm not gonna let that happen either, Athena. Not the catchin' or anything else. You're not somethin' to be shoved into a room and stared at like someone's at the zoo."
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The scowl fades a little as Raylan talks. She looks up at him sidelong, something really starting to register for the first time.
"I'm the only one with the Gift here," Athena says quietly. There's shock in her tone. A fresh new wave for a fresh new reason. "I'm literally the only person in the world with the Gift. Fuck."
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He nods softly. "Unless Jeff shows up.. Yeah, darlin'. You are." His hand tightened on her. "At least as far as the wide world knows. I'm so sorry, 'Thena. You shouldn't have been dropped here.. Not.. not here." He took a deep breath, caving to the impulse to press a kiss into her hair.
"You're not alone. I know I'm.. You're not alone."
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"I'd rather be with you than someone else, if I have to be somewhere where no one knows about the Gift," she mumbles.
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His other arm came around to hug her properly.
"I'm so sorry, honey. Maybe I'm wrong and they're.. just not Out yet. Maybe they think they're the only one too. Don't give up that hope... Why.. why don't we get the groceries in and get settled for the night, huh? I know it's weird to.. go back to the evenin' like nothin' happened but we can't linger in this moment too long. Ain't healthy to stop movin' like that."
He rubs his thumb across her shoulder. "It'll be alright. Somehow."
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Athena helps him bring in the groceries, puts things away, showers and changes into properly clean new-old pajamas before returning to the kitchen. “How do you brine chicken anyway? I want to learn so I can impress and confuse Aunt Nory with my culinary acumen.”
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Raylan chuckles at the statement following the question, lifting his eyebrows with a bob of his head as he starts peeling the plastic off the pack of chicken and dropping the pieces into a bowl.
"You ever heard of briney water? It just means heavily salted, so brining is soaking meat in heavily salted water. Salt and some spices if you want your meat to taste like your breading. Always use the same spices in your flour that you do your brine, so it'll all taste the same. Your Aunt Nory used to cook for you? What was your favorite dish?"
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She peers into the bowl. “What kind of spices do you use?”
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"Don't ask me for amounts, I eyeball everythin'. You're gonna help me fry it, right? It's mostly waitin' anyway. Fried chicken is the easiest thing in the world, if I'm honest. Just takes time."
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She ticks herself up under his arm as soon as he’s not using both hands, studying the amounts of spices like that will help her remember what to use next time. “And hey easy isn’t easy when it comes to stuff like this, you know? Have to get the timing right and all that.”
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"Just long enough for a TV movie and a bowl of cereal to tide you over until then." Or to tide him over, to be honest. "Only place where timin' matters is the pre-heatin' time for the oil and how long they cook. Can't be eatin' raw chicken. C'mon," he says, turning her and tugging her towards the living room. "Let's find somethin' to watch on this shitty tv. I could use the noise and the meat needs the time to brine. From 2 hours to 24, if you can manage it. 24's better, really. Gets into all the fibers. It's science, really."
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It doesn't take long for her to actually fall asleep after that, though.
She wakes up earlier than she wants to at the sound of the front door opening. Athena scrambles to her feet, not sure what she's on the alert for but knowing there's something.
...It's Raylan. Raylan, going somewhere, with car keys in his hand.
She stares for a second, then gives an affronted, "What the fuck?"
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But he didn't really ever sleep long when he wasn't in bed and comfortable, and 6 AM was an easy hour when it felt like you hadn't really slept at all.
He really had been thinking that he was silent enough to get by - there was three notes strewn along the kitchen, in hopeful estimates of where she might look first come sunrise, but the start of sound from behind him and the obvious question had him wincing as he stops and turning around in the door.
"Was hopin' to let you sleep in. You need it," he explains with a soft little smile.
While that was true, it was far from the whole truth.
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She casts around for her tennis shoes, pulling them on unevenly as she seesaws over to him.
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"To Boyd's. Before he gets too much sunlight under him to be trouble. It's not gonna be pretty, Athena, and it's early. You should probably stay here, considerin' what you did to him last time you saw him."
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He gestures. He was going to say 'they're just people' but he worried that Athena might take him for saying she wasn't somehow.
"No one deserves that shit. Not the blacks or the Jews or the Muslims or you. What happens if you come and his guys surround the car? Puttin' you on his terf is dangerous, darlin', that's all."
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“…I don’t want to be by myself,” she finally whispers.
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Wanna take a stab at writing some Boyd?
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