Text Overflow: It's just a flesh wound

[tinstar]

[Continued from: here]

[Raylan took advantage of having several hours to bring his hotel room back into something resembling tidiness, as well as taking a shower and grabbing a nap - Sleep wasn't something anyone got a lot of around Malcolm Whitly, but he'd long learned how to live and work on smaller amounts of sleep.

Dressed but with his button up open and no shoes on his feet, Raylan answered the door with a pull of a smile.] Managed to make it one piece I see. C'mon in. [ He shut the door behind him as he continued.] Flight okay?

Comments

[tinstar]

[Raylan still couldn't stop himself from being proud of Ava or what Bowman had rightfully earned.]

One in the same. She eventually turned CI for the Marshal's Service on the case we're working now on Boyd. We've gotta catch him in the act. He gets one fraction inch of space, and he- [Raylan whistled lowly as his hand snaked out, imitating exactly what Boyd did.]

Boyd came after her the night she got released from holding, ten days afterwards. Couple days after I first got reassigned here. She had a mind to try and get me over for dinner- [ Fried chicken was Raylan's favorite, hands down. ] -Boyd had her call me anyway. [He sighed, pushing at the stone pavement with his boot toe for a second before squinting a little under the brim of his hat at Malcolm.]

She didn't say she had a gun to her head but she didn't sound right. So I go over-[His head bobbed over in direction that didn't actually direct]- and Boyd's sitting at her table. Tells me to put down my shotgun and have a seat.

He wanted to draw- his gun unholstered, on the table, mine on my hip. Which would have been fine, if Ava had't come back in with that deer rifle. Fully intended to kill a second Crowder inside 10 days, had it come to it.

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm's expression sobered.]

If he's still alive, does that mean she's dead?

[tinstar]

They're both alive, [Raylan assured.] Boyd reached for his gun and I shot him in the chest. Dead center. [More specifically, it wasn't a shot to the heart. With the training Malcolm's already had, Raylan didn't expect that to get past him.]

[abrightboy]

Dead centre? Did you miss on purpose?

[tinstar]

Even experts don't hit the bullseye one hundred percent of the time. [He said it before adjusting his hat and setting his beer back down. He was fully lying. Raylan didn't miss unless he meant to.]

You ready to work those yoga toned arms?

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm didn't really believe it, either. He'd seen Raylan shoot a man in the eyeball.

He glanced down at his arms and huffed a laugh.]

I also use the stairs for pull-ups.

[He gestured to the tub.]

We're using them for this?

[tinstar]

Shame I missed that part of your morning routine, [ he replied with a smirk.]

For now. Working out here means you're going to be using them a lot. Let's set it around back of the house, under the trees. If nothing else, it'll get it outta the way.

[abrightboy]

You deserved some rest. I tried to be quiet.

[Malcolm glanced along where that path would take them, then moved around the tub to grab his end.] Maybe you can make a fountain out of it.

[tinstar]

Either you succeeded or you wore me out. [He teased as he moved around to his end of the tub and counted them to lifting. Since he knew the path better, he was happy to take the backwards walking end.]

Mind that we don't hit the gravestones or the birdbath on the way, [ he grunted as they shuffled along. Once they got back to where they were going, he stopped them with a 'Right here' and set down his side with a deep breath and a brush of his hands.]

Do I need to find and install a pull up bar for one of the doorways while you're here or do you think those guns can handle a few day's rest?

[abrightboy]

I'll do push-ups. I wouldn't want to be responsible for any more holes in your walls. [Said with a laugh.]

How much cleaning up do we have to do before we earn some shooting?

[tinstar]

Figure we get two sides of the house sprayed down, tires moved maybe, that kills a few hours and lets me kill a few beers. Unless you plan on helping with that too? Either that, or we go dig and plant a post, fixing the fence you'll end up using.

You know I only agreed to that because you've already been somewhat trained, right?

[abrightboy]

To fix a fence? [A beat.] Oh, the shooting. You don't train just anyone, huh? Is that why you won't take the teaching position they keep offering you?

[tinstar]

[ Raylan laughed.]

I taught at Glynco for a few years. That's how I know Art, we were instructors together. But I only draw my weapon if I intend to kill with it. Dusting off your rust is the exception. This isn't exactly a range.

[abrightboy]

...Do you not want to? I don't want to strong-arm you into doing something you'd rather not. I thought... [He waved it off.] We don't have to shoot. I can show you how to throw axes, if you want. Have you ever done that?

[tinstar]

[Raylan smirked sidelong at Malcolm.] I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to. This won't be the biggest personal rule you've gotten me to break and I look forward to seeing how well you actually shoot after some time.

You know how to.. throw axes, [he asked as they came back to the walk way, bending down to pick up his beer again and take a drink.]

[abrightboy]

I'm a two time silver medal axe thrower. [He looked over.] I'm not going to ask what the biggest personal rule I've ever gotten you to break is, but I am going to bet is has nothing to do with police work.

[tinstar]

[Raylan's eyebrows lifted and stayed there.] You've got medals?

[The last comment was somehow unexpected and made Raylan demure a little, a rare sight in itself though ti was only a duck of his head and a sheepish smile that elevated all the lines in his face as he looked back over at Malcolm, only slightly embarrassed.] Well it did start with me shootin' some asshole.

[abrightboy]

Two of them. [About his medals. He held up two fingers.

At Raylan's next comment, he gave him a sly smile.]

I'm sure that's not how it started.

[tinstar]

[Now a bit of color was threatening the tips of Raylan's ears as his smile started to spread.] Maybe not.

[And all of a sudden, in the moment, Raylan again sharply remembered the way that Malcolm eagerly pressed into him, a well worn memory that he visited often. Clearing his throat, Raylan gestured at the house.

You wanna spray or haul?

[abrightboy]

[The colour in Raylan's face made Malcolm smile, but he wouldn't push it any more.]

I'll spray if you show me how.

[He'd never used a power washer. Surprise surprise.]

[tinstar]

Sure. [It felt best to have something to do to distract from the building tension between them and Raylan didn't take long to set up the pressure washer and connect the hose, handing the long barreled sprayer over to Malcolm, standing possibly a fraction closer than he should.]

Do you think your mother would have an aneurysm if she knew you were out in the hills, pressure washing a house and planning to do yard work for the next couple of days?

[abrightboy]

[He grinned.] Probably. But it might make her like my law enforcement career more.

[Malcolm pointed it at the house and squeezed the trigger. It jerked in his hand and he let go. He looked at Raylan.] It has more kick than I was expecting. [He set the nozzle down, peeled his sweater off over his head, leaving him in his t-shirt, throwing the sweater onto the porch before picking up the nozzle again. He grasped it more tightly this time and prepared for the kick as he pressed the trigger, aiming it at the top of the wall to work his way down.]

[tinstar]

[ Raylan found himself grinning back at Malcolm at the quip, enjoying the metaphorical Jessica's horror at what he was getting her son to do far too much. Malcolm peeling off his sweater was.. delightfully distraction and Raylan watched every hint of skin that peeked out with the motion, waiting long enough for Malcolm to figure it out himself before he'd go off to do anything else.

Malcolm wasn't a stupid man and Raylan knew that but there was something deeply satisfying in watching the New Yorker do something so menial. Look so.. normal, even with his crip black jeans. Raylan forced himself to focus, sliding a hand across Malcolm's back before patting and seeing to these tires that he really could have moved before.

An hour and a half, and 3 beers later, Raylan was killing the pressure washer at Malcolm's request after an elevated conversation to get above the hum of the machine that made it all happen.]

Well shit. Beyond a few boards I see that will need to be replaced, you did a damned fine job, [ he said, wiping the sweat from hauling the spread logs and refuse into a general place. His overshirt had long been abandoned, leaving his shoulders glossy with sweat.]

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm was breathing a little heavily from the exertion and it felt good. Raylan's shoulders were twice as distracting as normal when they were glistening like that, but he tried not to stare. The compliment on his work made him smile broadly and he looked up at the wall and then at Raylan again.]

Break time? If you want something to eat, I'll even attempt to eat something.

[tinstar]

Break time, [He confirmed with a nod before curling a smile at Malcolm.]

I bought some chicken, I could set it a brine now for after we deal with Boyd, and sandwiches, soups or a collection of random snacking items in the meantime, [he offered with a pull of his grin as he finshed catching the rest of his breath.

This felt.. amazingly normal. Like they could, somehow, manage to make something as insane as living together work. It was stupid, but it made Raylan's heart beat a little faster with a little more adrenaline.]