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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[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.