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

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.

[Malcolm wasn't sure that was an answer, but he didn't push it. Whatever his heart was saying, did he really have any claim to Raylan? Was it really his business that Raylan was almost definitely still in love with his ex-wife? His heart felt like 'yes' on both counts but his brain told it to shush.

He set a plate of eggs and fork in front of Raylan and then brought his own over, gratefully pulling his refilled coffee towards him.]

You can call your baby. It's okay. [He picked up his fork.] What does she look like?

Video call. No bandwidth out here for it. I take those calls in Lexington. [Raylan took a stab full of eggs but ended up just poking around them as his eyes found Malcolm's face.]

She's cute. I would say the cutest, but.. we both know how biased fathers can be. [It was almost self-deprecating and it was clear Raylan was still struggling with the feeling of 'father' to a child he'd only seen in person a few times. But he gave half a smile with it before he looked back down to his plate.

He couldn't help but wonder how much chance he had of Malcolm staying, the more he peeled back. A kid and an ex-wife was a lotta baggage, baggage that couldn't just be stuck up in the shelves of their minds.]

Probably should have told you sooner. I didn't think it was gonna be important.

[Malcolm surprised him. He surprised himself, too.]

[Raylan's layers just made a more complete picture. Malcolm liked that picture, even if he wasn't completely sure if he'd be part of it. Malcolm didn't intend to be the one walking away though.

Raylan's comment about fathers made him smile. It was clear that part of his life meant a lot to him, even if it wasn't conventional.

He considered Raylan's face about why he didn't tell him already. He shook his head.]

You don't... owe me information. You told me when you felt comfortable. [He kept his eyes on Raylan's face and saw something there.] ....It doesn't change how I feel.

[It doesn't change how I feel.

Raylan looked up again at those words, holding Malcolm's gaze for a long moment before he nodded softly, a bit of relief in the back of his head.]

I know most daddies are burstin' with pride, ready to talk everyone's ears off about her first sound or fever or the number of toes they've got.. Alls I got is one picture on my phone, and the people who know.. know. [He wasn't one of those kind of fathers, and he felt a little... broken for it. It was what it was. He was away and didn't get to get that bond and connection with the small being he'd helped make.

Raylan finally took that bite of eggs, humming a soft note of approval.]

And you're right. I don't owe you information but.. [He looked back over.] They're gonna be a part of my life forever. It's only right you know sooner. Let you make.. informed decisions and the like. [Excuse him while he busies his mouth with something other than his left foot.]

[Informed decisions. Some of the uncertainty left his face.]

Relationships between parents and children are... [He huffed a laugh.] Complicated. You can have one that's unconventional in every way that turns out great and you can have one that's conventionally perfect and turns out.... horribly. Just... make the connection in the best way you can. That's all you can do.

[Raylan took another bite of the eggs before grabbing up one of his pieces of toast.]

That's my plan.. for however well I actually do it. [Willa wasn't going to have to suffer the bullshit he did when he was little. Raylan would damned sure do better than that.]

The eggs are good.

Thanks. I learned from a cook that worked for my family when I was a kid. My mother was horrified by some of the interests I took, but I wanted to know... everything. I only learned a couple of things from her. She quit after my father was arrested.

[He ate a couple small bites of egg.]

I think you'll be good at it. Making the connection. You do that naturally with people.

I don't blame her. The cook, not your mother, [He clarified with a curl of his smile, tucking the rest of his toast slice away, before taking a swig of his coffee, leaning back in his chair.]

Only the ones that don't have to deal with me all of the time, and most people aren't exactly happy to see me. Being a Marshal, I rarely bring good news. [And was very much sometimes a pain in their respective asses. Raylan cleared the rest of his plate.]

But it'd be weird if they all liked me.

[Malcolm shook his head, smiling fondly.]

Your coworkers respect you - I think you know that - but they also like you a lot. I can tell.

Tim does. Rachel tolerates me. Art's alright, I guess. [He couldn't help the devilish curl of his smile as he watched Malcolm.]

I'd rather focus on the day to day. [He'd rather focus on Malcolm. Raylan tapped the meat of his palm on the table a couple of times, internally debating before pushing to his feet and heading towards the sink with his plates.]

I supposed we've lingered long enough.. Leave the dishes, I'll do them when we get back.

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