Then I guess I'll just keep all my emotions to myself. Wouldn't mind grabbin' a drink soon if you're up for it, though. Also, you owe Roman a bottle of somethin'.
Jesus. [A sigh of exasperation, but a fond one. One that didn't mind so much. One that was used to things like this from Roman.] You really shouldn't encourage him, you'll make more of my hair end up white.
But if you give me a half hour, time enough to wash the rest of the shit from what hair color I got left, I'll be ready.
Yeah, but this is fun for me, and you can pull off the silver fox look. If you don't feel like drinkin' in public, you can come by my cabin. No beach inside but it does the job.
Just so long as you're sober enough to let me in. Be there in a bit.
--
Once they were done with their call, Raylan did exactly as he said he would, but he showed up about ten minutes later than his estimation with his never-ending whiskey bottle in hand, rapping a few times on Tim's door.
"Just make sure all your porno is tucked away in your closet or something and then it'd be fine," he teases as he walks in and glances around. Tim's apartment had more room than Raylan's motel room, but this was the first time Raylan was seeing it.
"And if I'd said Avon calling instead, you might not have opened the door at all." He lifts his bottle.
"Brought somethin' that won't be bothered by how much we end up drinkin'. Point me towards your glasses and I'll pour out."
"Oh it ain't my sensibilities that I'm worried about." He didn't know how Tim felt about Tim's porn being seen by other people, but the assumption was not great, considering Tim's 50 mile drive outside of Lexington to get a beer.
He ambles towards the glasses with an amused smirk and opens the bottle with the distinctively fun 'pop'. "Would I insult either of our pallets like that?"
Pouring them out each a few fingers before setting it aside, he walks them over and holds one out. "Meet a lotta new faces, Rescue Marshal?"
"My social quota for the next decade's been filled thanks to the last few months here."
But it's hard to be a private person when you're stuck in what's essentially an apartment complex and you can't go anywhere. Staying inside his cabin and avoiding people would turn out bad in one way or another.
"People seem to like me and I can't quite figure out how to change that."
He gives the glass a vague sniff, just in case Raylan's pulling some prank, then gives a toast before having a drink.
"Wounded you don't trust me." It's said with a smile at Tim's sniffing as he takes to his own seat and leans back, one leg propping out a bit.
"Looks like you came out in one piece. Wild ride, ain't it." He wasn't asking anything directly because he knew how things would go, but that didn't mean he couldn't leave a few doors open. "Who'd ya save?"
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That and it's the worst hangover you've ever had, hopped up on PHP and moonshine.
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Two questions though, How soon is 'soon', and why do I owe Roman a bottle?
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But if you give me a half hour, time enough to wash the rest of the shit from what hair color I got left, I'll be ready.
Where you feel like imbibin' at?
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Cabin might be the way to go simply because it's not covered in gore and bullshit. Where'd they stick you?
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--
Once they were done with their call, Raylan did exactly as he said he would, but he showed up about ten minutes later than his estimation with his never-ending whiskey bottle in hand, rapping a few times on Tim's door.
"Housekeeping."
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"All due respect, Raylan, I'd never trust you to clean my place."
He says it amicably as he steps aside to let Raylan inside. Tim's cabin isn't much to look at, just an average one-bedroom apartment.
"Make yourself at home."
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"And if I'd said Avon calling instead, you might not have opened the door at all." He lifts his bottle.
"Brought somethin' that won't be bothered by how much we end up drinkin'. Point me towards your glasses and I'll pour out."
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He grabs them down some glasses then takes a seat on a chair, leaning back into it as he watches.
"It's not water or somethin' in there, is it?"
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He ambles towards the glasses with an amused smirk and opens the bottle with the distinctively fun 'pop'. "Would I insult either of our pallets like that?"
Pouring them out each a few fingers before setting it aside, he walks them over and holds one out. "Meet a lotta new faces, Rescue Marshal?"
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But it's hard to be a private person when you're stuck in what's essentially an apartment complex and you can't go anywhere. Staying inside his cabin and avoiding people would turn out bad in one way or another.
"People seem to like me and I can't quite figure out how to change that."
He gives the glass a vague sniff, just in case Raylan's pulling some prank, then gives a toast before having a drink.
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"Looks like you came out in one piece. Wild ride, ain't it." He wasn't asking anything directly because he knew how things would go, but that didn't mean he couldn't leave a few doors open. "Who'd ya save?"