abrightboy | No One's Born Broken

Malcolm's expression was schooled into something mildly pleasant and he stepped forward to offer his hand.

"Malcolm Bright. It's a pleasure to meet you, Winona. I've heard a lot about you."

She was very stylish; her dress sense was a little like his mother's.

"Can I take anything?" he asked, gesturing to all the baby accoutrements. "Or get anyone anything to drink?" he added, with a gesture towards the kitchen.

He would be happy to meet Willa, but let her mother get comfortable first. He wasn't going to rush the baby.

Raylan was glad that Malcolm stepped in and answered that silent question and gently took the baby seat from Winona so she could brush back a bit of her hair and step forward enough to shake his hand with a bright smile.

"I don't know if I should be worried or not," she said lightly with a laugh and a glance at Raylan who was setting his hat aside and extracting his daughter so he could bring her up onto his shoulder. It lasted only a second before he huffed a breath and pulled back his face before gathering the diaper bag.

"I'll take one, if ya don't mind."

Winona glanced over at him again before turning her smile back to Malcolm. "I guess I will too," she said, one hand flapping slightly at her hip in awkward acceptance. After a beat and a slight pull of her features, Winona continued. "So, if you two aren't on a case.." A finger bounced between them. ".. what are you doing here? Come to drop one in his lap?"

That seemed to be the way it happened.

But Raylan spoke up before Malcolm had to answer.

"Helpin' me set up this place," he said as he sat on the couch, already comfortable with this part of parenting. He wasn't going to be one of those men who was so grossed out by a little kid's shit that they wouldn't share the proverbial load. "Since he's gonna be livin' here with me when he's down this way."

Winona's eyebrows lifted and she glanced between them again.

"Like, roommates?"

"No," Raylan said with a meaningful look up at her.

Winona's brow pinched further and she shook her head, one hand crossing her chest as the other one waved back and forth. "Wait. What are you sayin'?"

Malcolm, already reaching into the fridge for the beers, had one in each hand as he turned around to 'Like, roommates?' 'No.' and he looked between them.

Were they really going to just say it? He thought Raylan might cop to roommates but he was actually saying it.

Malcolm held a beer out to her. "We're.... in a relationship," he offered with it, watching her face carefully.

Winona took the beer but it was automatic; her mouth hung open a little, face full of a lack of understanding.

"You mean like a.. working relationship."

Getting Willa tucked back into her onesie and into her car seat so that he could take the diaper to the trashcan, Raylan lifted his eyebrows slightly at her. She was smarter than this.

"Raylan," she said, his name turning into a question all on its own.

He washed his hands quickly and came back to Malcolm's side, slipping an arm around his waist as he took the other beer. "It's not a workin' relationship."

Winona just stared. "S-so what, you're gay now?"

Raylan's lips tightened a little with a glance down before they came back up under his eyebrows. He didn't have a defense for that but he didn't need one. This was the way it is. Either she could accept that, or they could fight about it.

"I mean, we also work sometimes," Malcolm pointed out helpfully, with a glance up at Raylan.

He looked at Winona. "I'm not sure slinging labels around is super helpful right now. It started as a working relationship and now it's... more than that. It just... evolved that way," he explained. "Is it going to be a problem?"

Might as well ask a frank question at this point and assess her face when she answered. She could put Raylan in hot water if she decided to. Malcolm would at least like the advance warning of her intentions.

"I can't believe this," she started, right in the middle of Malcolm's sentence, one hand coming to her forehead for a second before she took a long pull of her beer, walking away for it before coming back, her free hand back on her hip.

"I can't believe this - this is .. some kinda twisted joke, right?"

Raylan stepped forward with a sigh and a raised hand. "Winona, I know it's somethin' of a shock-"

"A shock? A shock is you.. gettin' a new car or finally getting transferred outta Lexington. This is.." Clearly a betrayal of some sort.

"Well it's not like we're doin' heroin in the back." Winona did not look like that was an acceptable answer.

"Do you know what my mother is gonna do when she finds out?"

Raylan lifted one shoulder. "Complainin' is her favorite of pastimes."

"She already hates you, Raylan!"

He could only look at Winona with a nonplussed look. "Then it won't make a difference, will it." He was used to this; he could handle it.

"Excuse me..." Malcolm said, raising a hand. "Sorry. Why does your mother have to 'find out'? So you have an ally in trying to make Raylan feel like the way he wants to live his life is wrong somehow? That it's yours or anyone else's to dictate?" he asked, his tone too innocent to not be even more pointed than if it were pointed.

Winona turned on Malcolm. "Excuse me?" she echoed. "Unlike some people here, I actually talk to and like my parents and Mom's got a vested interest in the lives of her daughter and granddaughter. Raylan's choices affect other people's lives," she said, almost accusingly as she swung back on Raylan.

"How long has this been going on?"

Raylan glanced at Malcolm. "Nearly 8 or so months."

Winona scoffed and walked around to drop herself on the sofa, setting the beer bottle down to put her face in her hands and her elbows on her knees. "Goddamnit, Raylan."

Malcolm's eyes narrowed slightly as he puzzled that one out.

"Sorry, maybe I'm stupid but... how does this particular choice of Raylan's affect you or your mother, specifically? Or anyone else?"

Raylan looked over. He knew that Malcolm's intelligence wasn't going to be the problem here.

Winona just groaned. "This is gonna be so embarrassing."

The Marshal just took and let out a deep breath.

"Winona, it don't matter to shit."

"It does matter Raylan." She looked over at Malcolm as she stood up. "I know you're not from here and you might not be aware of how society, generally speakin' works up here? You see, anything he does? Reflects on us. As soon as people know, they're gonna look at me after they look at him. You think any PTA board is gonna let on a family that has.." She stopped herself before saying something truly ugly but gestured none the less. "What about getting Willa into a good school? Half the checks she'll go through involve Family Interviews."

Clearly, Winona had no plans on sending Willa to just any old public school. She wanted to put her daughter ahead as much as she possibly could.

"So what are you suggesting?" Malcolm said evenly. "To spare you embarrassment in front of the PTA, I mean. Good schools won't be a problem; I speak their language. But the PTA. What can we do about that little problem? We wouldn't want to embarrass you by existing."

Winona rolled her eyes as she pushed her bangs back again. "I need a drink. Do you have whiskey? Anything stronger than beer?"

Raylan lifted his eyebrows and started towards the kitchen. He knew this wasn't over.

She continued with a breath, putting her hand back on her hips as she looked back at Malcolm. "You get to have a choice in this; I don't. And once Raylan gets over whatever this.. Late life crisis is, we've still got to live with it."

From the kitchen, Raylan sounded warningly. "Winona."

She only glanced at him. "Who are you to tell me how I react to anything, anyway? Some man I don't know comin' in and talking about our future issues with schools."

"Did Raylan get to have a 'choice' in it when you left him for someone else or did you maybe cheat on him, instead? I think in the spectrum of hurtful choices people made without consulting each other, you're in one of those glass houses with a pocket full of rocks," Malcolm informed her matter-of-factly. "I would strongly suggest watching where you're throwing them. If you were super worried about the integrity of your nuclear family for private school interviews, you and he would still be married."

Winona scoffed, looking a little bit like she'd been slapped, but much like her ex-husband, a twist of humor helped her get through it. "Did you know that the divorce rate has been up all over the country for the past ten years?" She asked with one finger turned upside down at him with a slight squint of her eye. "With the divorce rate the way it is, hell that's half of Kentucky."

Raylan came back to Malcolm's side, empty handed.

"Stop it," Raylan said with a little lift of his eyebrows. "You've been driving for a good number of hours. Go get a hotel room. Get some sleep. Figure it out. We can talk tomorrow."

"And if you want to spend the evening doing the reading on the relative value of various sins to bring to your mother, I think you'll find - between adultery and a man laying with another man - only one of those breaks the Ten Commandments," Malcolm added. "But there's usually a Bible in the drawer beside a hotel bed, if you want to check. However," he continued, stepping towards her, "if you just want to be a decent person towards someone who's always been there to help you out when you've needed it, maybe sleep on that concept instead," he advised sagely.

Winona had started to open her mouth to argue with Raylan before Malcolm spoke up, and she blinked before turning on her heels and snatching up her purse, storming out with a slam of the door hard enough to startle Willa.

Raylan sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, one hand coming around on Malcolm's waist as he passed him by to go and gently collect Willa out of her carseat.

"That coulda gone worse," he said with a resigned tone. At least she left Willa. "Though I don't suppose there was any version of this first meeting that ended in anything but."

Malcolm trailed behind him, glancing over his shoulder at the door before looking at Raylan.

"She's not going to tell you that you should dump me. Not outright. She's going to try to make you feel so ashamed of being with me that you'll want out of this relationship on your own."

Bouncing Willa rhythmically, Raylan patted her back in time, shhing softly between his words.

"Trust me. She's got nothin' on what Arlo used to do to me." He held out one hand for Malcolm to come close enough for him to wrap an arm around him too. "And I doubt she's gonna get much further than she did about me leaving the Marshal's Service. It'll be okay, she'll calm down. She's just.. surprised by it, that's all."

Well, no, it wasn't all, but Raylan knew they were flawed.

Malcolm went more than willingly into that beckoning arm. He needed the reassurance. It wasn't surprise in Winona's eyes; she felt like Raylan had betrayed her somehow. Like his choice to be with Malcolm was a personal slight to her. But not for any of the reasons she'd said. That was smoke.

Malcolm was concerned. But also charmed by Raylan's seeming ease with fatherhood and his next words sounded distracted as he peered at the baby as his own hand clung to Raylan's shoulder.

"Raylan, there's no stigma attached to being in the Marshals. She knew what she was saying, pointing out the social stigma here around being with me." He lifted a finger and touched the baby's fat little hand ever so gently. "Shame is a powerful emotion. Don't underestimate this ploy; you have to be prepared for it."

There was just as much comfort to be found in Malcolm's acceptance of the gesture, and Raylan hummed softly as Willa finally lifted her head and looked at the pair of them with big impossibly hazel eyes. Raylan couldn't help but smile a little at the little tap of Malcolm's finger against Willa, who took it with a blink and look down at her hand before settling her little head down to stare at Malcolm from across Raylan's shoulders.

"Darlin', I'd take all the shame of the south on me if I had to, so long as I get to keep livin' life with you," he said softly. "But I'm not. Ashamed that is." He turned his head a little to look down at him.

"I love you. And nothing she could say will change that."

Malcolm's eyes moved from the baby's face to look up at him with palpable relief. The hand grasping the back of his shoulder tightened in the fabric of his shirt a little bit.

"It's subtle, what she's trying to do," he whispered. "And I don't want you to get hurt. What if she tells your boss? Or his boss?"

"It's my experience in life that everything will get you hurt, one way or another," he replied, rubbing his hand up and down the short reach of Malcolm's side. "If she does that, then I guess I might be outta a job. Maybe I'll.. tend bar or something. Open a restaurant. Whatever I have to."

He wasn't giving this, Malcolm, up.

"Don't know that I've got any other marketable skills, but.." He gave Malcolm a smile. "The place looks great, by the way."

Malcolm's expression warmed.

"If you get fired, we'll open a detective agency," Malcolm said. "Specialize in finding missing people." He gestured around. "Can I give you the tour?"

Raylan grinned. "I'll have to replace my hat for that," he teased before nodding towards the apartment in invitation. "I hear there's something to see on the terrace too but I promise I won't sneak a peek til you're ready."

Malcolm laughed. "You definitely cannot change your hat," he said firmly, but through a grin. He nodded over to the sofa, which was as big a sectional as would fit in the area in a dark grey fabric. "So, if you notice, whether you sit or lay on the couch, your back isn't to the door..."

He slipped out of Raylan's grasp to stand between the sofa and the television. "This TV has a sports package so you can watch any baseball game when they're on. Or any other sport. If you want. Um..." He moved into the kitchen. "I got food..." he said gesturing around. "If you're hungry. Like. Actual food." He opened a few cupboards. "Dishes... I got some coffee blends to get us started on that...." He set a french press on the counter that divided the kitchen and livingroom. "Annnnd a toaster oven.... microwave.... normal toaster....." He slipped out from behind the counter gesturing to the opposite wall. "Bookshelf. The bottom shelf is all children's books. I got the ones the lady in the bookstore said were the most popular as well as her personal favourites. She was a big Dr Seuss fan." If Raylan looked, the books they discussed after the shower the previous night filled one of the other shelves. He pushed open the bedroom door. "Look, I installed the restraints myself with that hole-drilling skill you taught me... I put the one in the middle... it should be more comfortable for you and is very unlikely to strangle me in my sleep." He gave it a yank. "See? It's at an angle." In the corner of the room was a small sitting area with a plush chair and small table and a throw blanket. On the other side was a large eight drawer dresser next to the closet. He slipped past Raylan and Willa back out into the main room. "I got a chair for Willa, so she can join us at the table," he said, gesturing to the dining table by the big bank of windows. He looked at Raylan. "Okay," he said, taking a breath then leading them out onto the terrace.

There was a wicker patio set there, with a glass-topped coffee table, a two seat sofa with plush outdoor cushions and an additional chair at 90 degrees to it. The sofa faced west. Just past it, at the other end of the terrace was a small bar-b-que. Malcolm pulled the cover off with a flourish and looked at Raylan.

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