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

[tinstar]

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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hello chase said i could come here

[boltactions]

Sometimes, it was a boring job. Actually, most of the time the job was pretty boring, and Tim spent more time doing shit-all around the office than actually out doing leg work. At least Raylan had brought some drama with him when he arrived. Tim had to admire the way trouble followed Raylan around like a lost puppy looking for a home. It made work way more interesting.

Usually.

But that wasn't the case at the moment. It was a later night at the office than usual, spent waiting on some important paperwork to be faxed over that absolutely couldn't wait until morning. (Tim suspected that Art was punishing Raylan for doing something stupid and he got caught in the gravitational pull.) Tim sat, leaning back in his chair, feet up on his desk while he ate some sour candies.

After a long stretch of silence, one of those candies hit Raylan's cheek with a soft pap sound.

YES YOU ARE MOST WELCOME, YOU AND YOUR TIM

[tinstar]

Ah the job of babysitting; something Tim got saddled with largely because he could handle Raylan and his shit and everyone including Raylan knew it. If this was anything else, he would have just asked Tim to cover for him - wasn't like the man ever seemed to be doing anything on his off time anyway - but it wasn't. After the shit he'd pulled, both he and Art knew that he was on the hook for whatever gruntwork Art decided needed to be assigned to him.

His expression remained unchanged as the candy hit the ground, eyebrows lifting a little in question as he turned his chin in his hand to look over, thumb holding his place in the book he was reading.

"We hit that part of the night, huh?" He looked back at his book. "Surprised it didn't take longer, to be honest."

[boltactions]

"C'mon, Raylan. I ain't one of those pretty little girls that runs after you and gives it all up the moment we're alone. You gotta pace it."

Tim raised his eyebrows, popping another candy into his mouth. He chewed it as he kept talking.

"Wouldn't be any fun if I didn't draw it out." For effect, he drew out the word itself, so it came out more like draaaaaw.

A couple more candies then Tim swung his legs off his desk, setting the bag down as he stood up. He sauntered over to lean against Raylan's desk instead, arms crossed.

"What're you reading this time?"

[tinstar]

Raylan smiled at the cute little joke. Yeah sure. "Got an aspirin or a quarter between your knees and everything, I imagine."

He could feel the restless energy rolling off Tim and took a deeper breath as he made his way around to Raylan's side of the divider, eyes coming up to meet him expectantly. The book was closed, cover turned right side up to face him, reading in large stylised block font 'The Friends of Eddie Coyle' by George V. Higgins.

"I know Art told you you gotta stay, but I promise I can intake paperwork without supervision. In case you got anythin' you'd rather be doin' than workin' on a back cavity." He wasn't ushering Tim away, that would take more energy than it was worth but maybe if he just.. opening the door of opportunity, Tim would be inclined to take it.

[boltactions]

The smile grew on Tim's face, and he rolled his eyes.

"Don't insult me like that, Raylan. You and I both know you're shit without supervision, and the last thing I need is Art up my ass because I left you alone."

But Raylan was right in picking up that Tim was getting restless. He could sit still for hours and keep an eye on a target, but office duty is something else.

"Wanna order some food or something?"

[tinstar]

It was worth a shot. He huffed a breath, smile breaking as his book bearing hand broke so he could glance down and put his bookmark between the pages before he tossed it onto the table, propping his chin into his fingers. A restless Tim meant he wasn't going to get any peace and quiet. Not while the Ranger had things to throw at his face.

"He ain't gotta find out," Raylan drawled in his own defense, hand falling out to gesture at nothing in particular. Still, even as he said it, he knew Tim wasn't going anywhere no matter his protests. Stubborn delightful asshole that he was.

"I could eat," he agreed with a lift of his eyebrows and a slight nod. "I've been thinkin' about that chicken you got for that one guy, took up two of our guys in the locker room? What was his name? Calvin Wallace or somethin' like that. Think they're open? If not," he continued with a wave of his hand before it fell to splay on his knee. "I'm good for just about any place that serves a decent cheeseburger."

[boltactions]

"There's always a place open to get good chicken."

God Bless the south and their damn good food.

Tim finally moved away from Raylan's desk, going back over to his own. In the drawer was a decent collection of take out menus, and if they didn't like what they found, then Tim had it on good authority that just about ever desk in here had a similar stash.

The urge to turn one into a paper airplane and fly it at Raylan was strong. Instead, Tim just started looking through them.

"Let's see. Chicken and cheeseburgers."

[tinstar]

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.