"It's the way things are meant to be. Anyone who gets around that well.. I don't know that it's luck either way."
Death was a permeant solution in his toolbox that he was reluctant to let go of.
Raylan couldn't help the mirthless scoff under his breath, head shaking a little as he turned the glass on it's bottom edge.
"Therapy for them I can get behind. I'll tell you the same thing I told Marty; I'm here to do a job. One that didn't initially include my ass bein' effected by it." He sucked his teeth for a half second, shaking his head again. "Too late to argue the points of it now, I suppose."
His deal was worth it.
"Good to know that people are thinkin' about it. The alternative bein' too wrapped up in their therapy to really look around."
That gets an amused grin out of Tim. "Unfortunately, the nature of delving into someone's inner depths when you're not a licensed therapist is that half the time they'll call you out on doing the exact same shit they do, only your justifications aren't much better. A relationship's give and take, even when it's someone who's by sheer technicality and dumb luck your prisoner." He takes a sip, grinning wryly around it. "Probably especially because of that, even. Some of these people, it's really easy to see where they made their choices."
Goddamnit. The kicker was that Raylan already knew that, but Tim wasn't letting him avoid looking right at it. He should be grateful, he supposed. Too bad the facts irritated the hell of out him and dug finger at a host of shit he kept otherwise tightly under his hat.
Raylan sucked his teeth for a moment and swirled his glass again. He couldn't manage to find even an offhanded argument that stood up and there was plenty to be thrown back at him.
"Well then that, at least, will be the same. I've been surprised a few times but 8 outta ten.." He took a deep breath, hazel eyes much darker than when they'd started this conversation. "Onna my ex-wife's complaints was that I don't talk enough.. God, would she be laughin' her ass off if she knew."
Tim just looks more smug the longer Raylan doesn't come up with a counter-argument for his stating the obvious, and he's grinning despite the mood in Raylan's eyes at his muttered comment on his ex-wife.
"Well, if it helps, no-one seems to get out of this place with all their secrets intact. So we are all, quite literally," he adds with a teasing wink, "in the same bloody boat. Makes it a bit easier to feel less self-conscious about it, in my opinion."
Raylan scoffs. "It ain't being self conscious. It's stupid bullshit everyone's heard a million times in one form or another and if it ain't a weapon, it's worse. Pity. I'll pass. People can tear that shit from my gut and complain to management later."
Well, so much for this drink lasting long. Raylan shot it down like it was water, barely bearing his teeth with the swallow.
"I appreciate you reachin' out and givin' me this headstart on Elias and his bullshit. Next time I see you in here, I'll buy you a drink in a proper thanks. Let me know if I need to try to.. I dunno, reign him in a little."
"Unfortunately there's no buying anything here, or I'd hold you to that," he sniggers, finishing off his own drink in one quick, unflinching swallow.
Then he slides the bottle over the table. "Consider this your initiation present. Welcome to wardening, let yourself really come to terms with everything, and do try not to get murdered. You can pick what we drink the next time."
He knows how much that must all be to think about. He'd only gone better with it at the time because he's completely given up and just assumed everything was evil, and had been proven right. So he'll give Raylan a flirty little wink as he stands, Bertha flapping neatly back onto his shoulder, and he'll take his leave.
If Tim hadn't left, Raylan was two shakes of lambs tail from getting his hat and leaving himself. But to avoid the rush to the door, Raylan would take the niceties, though he manages nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement and a faint, shallow pull of his lips that didn't reach his eyes.
The bottle was going to be needed and would be nursed back in his cabin where he could chew it all over without giving audience to the jaw calisthenics he would end up doing.
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no subject
Death was a permeant solution in his toolbox that he was reluctant to let go of.
Raylan couldn't help the mirthless scoff under his breath, head shaking a little as he turned the glass on it's bottom edge.
"Therapy for them I can get behind. I'll tell you the same thing I told Marty; I'm here to do a job. One that didn't initially include my ass bein' effected by it." He sucked his teeth for a half second, shaking his head again. "Too late to argue the points of it now, I suppose."
His deal was worth it.
"Good to know that people are thinkin' about it. The alternative bein' too wrapped up in their therapy to really look around."
no subject
no subject
Raylan sucked his teeth for a moment and swirled his glass again. He couldn't manage to find even an offhanded argument that stood up and there was plenty to be thrown back at him.
"Well then that, at least, will be the same. I've been surprised a few times but 8 outta ten.." He took a deep breath, hazel eyes much darker than when they'd started this conversation. "Onna my ex-wife's complaints was that I don't talk enough.. God, would she be laughin' her ass off if she knew."
no subject
"Well, if it helps, no-one seems to get out of this place with all their secrets intact. So we are all, quite literally," he adds with a teasing wink, "in the same bloody boat. Makes it a bit easier to feel less self-conscious about it, in my opinion."
no subject
Well, so much for this drink lasting long. Raylan shot it down like it was water, barely bearing his teeth with the swallow.
"I appreciate you reachin' out and givin' me this headstart on Elias and his bullshit. Next time I see you in here, I'll buy you a drink in a proper thanks. Let me know if I need to try to.. I dunno, reign him in a little."
no subject
Then he slides the bottle over the table. "Consider this your initiation present. Welcome to wardening, let yourself really come to terms with everything, and do try not to get murdered. You can pick what we drink the next time."
He knows how much that must all be to think about. He'd only gone better with it at the time because he's completely given up and just assumed everything was evil, and had been proven right. So he'll give Raylan a flirty little wink as he stands, Bertha flapping neatly back onto his shoulder, and he'll take his leave.
no subject
The bottle was going to be needed and would be nursed back in his cabin where he could chew it all over without giving audience to the jaw calisthenics he would end up doing.