tinstar | Text Overflow: It's just a flesh wound

[Raylan lifted his eyebrows with a thoughtful bob of his head at the affirmation as he watched. If Malcolm hadn't offered, he would have asked, and the forethought of sharing was a sweet one.]

I think I know what it's like to sleep under a weighted blanket now. Hope I didn't snore too loudly.

[Malcolm laughed lightly as he pushed himself up to his feet.]

So what if you did? It's not like you'd be keeping me up. [Pointed out cheerfully as he padded over to press a brief kiss to Raylan's mouth.] But you didn't. Snore, that is. [He poured coffee into the cup Raylan had brought down for him.]

[He hummed a note of agreement, he supposed, smiling as he pressed into the passing 'good morning' kiss.]

Good. Did you explore the house at all while I was passed out? Dig through some drawers?

[Not that Malcolm would find much of anything out of the ordinary, beyond some random bullets, the deer rifle, and some more old photos. Raylan didn't think that he did, but even if he had, it would be okay.]

[Malcolm sipped his coffee and looked over at Raylan.]

I didn't look in any drawers, but I walked around. I mean. You were made here. I usually use that assessment to analyze how killers were made, but... the principle holds. Everyone is shaped by their childhood home. [He wrapped his hands around his cup.] My mother still lives in the house where I grew up. I can take you there next time you're in town, if you want.

[Fair was fair.]

[Raylan reached out, tugging Malcolm against his side by his waist.]

Mm, and what did this assessment tell ya?

Yeah, I'd love to see it. Assuming your mother lets us in the front door. [Especially after his 'assault' on Martin, Raylan didn't expect any kind of magnanimus greetings. Oh sure, the fake shine that Jessica drew about her when her smile was tight was something he was sure he'd get, but he was aware of the tracks he made.]

Nothing that you haven't told me. [But he got more of an idea what that looked like.

He was easily drawn to Raylan's side, pressing a kiss into his shoulder as he was tucked against him.]

She'll let us in. And she'll be a gracious hostess. She misses it.

[He hummed again. Good.] Part of me worried that you'd see something I hadn't. [In how it shaped him.]

I bet she's fantastic at it. [Raylan imagined that Jessica Whitly was fantastic at everything she put her mind to.]

I'm gonna have to deal with Bob sooner rather than later today... which might be better. Less time for people to crawl into bottles. You still wanna come?

[They weren't going now and Raylan didn't plan on going for at least an hour yet, but he liked a loose plan for his days.] I can find that axe for throwing that you mentioned for later too.

Do I want to come? Of course I do!

[He was already considering what to wear. And considering the previous day's interaction with Bob.]

Bob really admires you, huh? It's no wonder he watches your house when you're not here. He wants to save the day for you; he wants to impress you.

Edited 2020-05-01 18:12 (UTC)

[That made Raylan's smile curl up again behind a sip of his coffee. Of course he wanted to come, silly for Raylan to have asked.

Half shrugging with another uneven nod, Raylan had to admit it:]

Since he can't be me, he wants to be my best friend. Or get taken out on Marshal rides to give his badge more purpose than it's got. But he's a good guy. Means well. Even if he does wear me out with how much he talks. [Which was why Raylan was patient with him.]

This place needs more people like him. Who care.

He used to get picked on, in highschool. Terrible assholes, teenagers.. Always felt kinda bad for him. Guess that hasn't changed.

[But for all that, Raylan wasn't arrogant or condescending.]

You kind of have a soft spot for the socially ostracized, don't you. [Teasing. But also not.]

What are we expecting to happen at this bar?

Someone's gotta. [He replied quietly with a sidelong glance at Malcolm. Maybe he did have a soft spot for them but he wasn't ashamed of the rightness of it. He knew what it was like to be beat on, pushed around, kicked when you're down.. He couldn't help but stand up for people when he saw it.]

A whole lot of bluster with hopefully no ugly words. It'll be fine. Boring even, if we're lucky.

You eat yet? I think I'm going to make toast.

'Boring if we're lucky'. Doesn't sound like the authentic Kentucky experience to me.

[When he asked about eating, though, Malcolm's whole being perked up.]

Oh! I was going to make eggs. Do you want eggs? Where's your frying pan? [Midsentence he detached himself from Raylan's side, looking around the kitchen.]

Trust me, you want borin' out here. The alternative is nothing good.

[Malcolm's flitting made him smile. ]

Under the cabinet, there. [He pointed it out gesture.] I didn't know eggs were on the soup menu. Any chance you're eating some too?

[He wouldn't push but he had to ask.]

I will eat an egg. [A beat.] Part of an egg, at least. [He grabbed the frying pan and looked over at Raylan before putting it on the stove with a flourish.] I ate an egg at that diner you brought me to the first time I was here. Part of an egg. We had to go and you can't rush eating an egg. Didn't want to vomit in your car. Bad first impression.

[He got the eggs from the fridge and cracked three into a bowl, added a little milk and whisked them up with a fork, then poured them into the pan. Then he opened a drawer and shut it and looked at Raylan.] Spatula?

Eating is not cooking, strictly speakin'.

My car and I appreciate it. Smell never comes out. Especially eggs.

[Reaching down, Raylan opened a drawer and pulled a plastic one out, flipping it in his hand before holding it out.]

They were good eggs though, as I remember.

Yeah, I didn't feel at all sick afterwards.

[He started pushing the eggs around the pan as they cooked, scrambling them up.]

Do you want toast with it?

[Raylan hummed an agreement and pushed off the counter to fetch the small silver toaster out of it's corner.

On the table, Raylan's blackberry style phone buzzed alive, Winona Hawkings, and he padded over to pick it up, considered the screen and glanced at Malcolm before silencing it. Winona would call again if it was serious - after 6 years of marriage and running through all the various scenarios that he threw her for consideration, they had a system, even now.]

You having toast or is that too much?

[Malcolm glanced over at the buzzing sound on the table, but it wasn't his phone. He turned back to the eggs.]

Oh, none for me. [Too much.

He gestured with the spatula.] Did you reject it because it was work or because it wasn't work?

[Just the two pieces then - Raylan came to collect his coffee as they toasted and came to stand near Malcolm, eyeing his progress on the eggs as he answered.]

It was my ex-wife. If it's serious, she'll call again.

Are you still friends?

[Most divorced couples he knew - including his parents - had very acrimonious relationships.]

You could say we're.. on good terms. [Considering.

The weight of what he still hadn't admitted weighed on him and with a deep breath, Raylan took to lean against the counter and got it over with.]

She's probably wanting to see if I want to say good morning to Willa.. [Raylan looked over at Malcolm.] Not that a 6 month old is much of a conversationalist..

Is that her... [He actually looked at Raylan.] She's your baby. ...Why did I think you've been divorced for more than a year or so? [So much had gone on in that story, perhaps.]

Because it's been more like four or five. [He admitted, arm folding over his chest.]

The realtor she left me for, Gary, ended up catching a bullet in a bad way. [He took no joy in the fact.] We didn't start up for near a year after that. Didn't last long either.. not after Winoa was almost shot at the end of her pregnancy...

She told me she knew it wasn't my fault but.. [With his accent, it might have sounded a bit rambly, but he was working towards his point.].. We moved her down to Miami. Good work for a Courthouse for someone with her skills. Safer too, by a mile..

So.... wait. The realtor is dead?

[He took the eggs off the heat and busied his hands scooping 80% of it onto Raylan's plate and the rest onto his own. He hesitated before looking at Raylan.]

And she lives in Miami?

[He was trying to wrap his head around this and how it fit into what he already knew.]

So when this Boyd stuff is all over and you live in the same place again... what if she wants to get back together?

[Being second choice was better than no choice at all, he supposed. Especially for someone like him. It was still a paradigm shift from what he thought was going on....]

They thought it was me for a hot minute but my money was on the mafia. Gary got into some bad stuff that came back to haunt him, I think.

[The toast popped and Raylan went to collect it with a few fingers to bring back and drop onto his plate before refilling their coffee and walking it over to the table, sitting down himself. His face was calm and unreadable, but not hard or closed.]

Woman leaves you twice for the same thing, third time isn't gonna change anything.

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