abrightboy | No One's Born Broken

At the suspect's protest, Malcolm, who'd got himself to sitting up, looked over at him. "He did warn you. You must not be from here, if you thought that he wouldn't."

When Raylan crouched down, Malcolm looked up at him with a wry smile. "I'm fine," he insisted, gingerly touching said shiner with his fingertips and wincing slightly. "Anyone who talks as much as I do has been hit in the face before," he pointed out with a bit of a laugh.

Tim watched it all passively, only forcing the kids to sit down so he could rest one hand on his gun, just in case.

"You're not allowed to do that man!" The guys said in his own defense. Raylan clicked softly. "Aw shut up," he said as he stood and ambled over. "It's just a flesh wound. Builds character. Keeps you from running again too." He was lucky he only got shot in the fatty part of his calf.

"Now, you gonna tell me where I can find your buddy, or are we gonna have to throw the book at.." He half turned to look at the kids. "What are they, your niece and nephew? Cousins? The boy can't run for shit but he doesn't hit bad."

Malcolm, meanwhile, got to his feet, dusting himself off fairly uselessly. He was too dusty for a bit of dusting off to do any good.

"Niece and nephew," Malcolm told him. He could see from the man's face that Raylan had nailed it the first time.

The man looked at him oddly. "How the hell do you know?"

"You told me," Malcolm said simply, and the man gave him a dirty look. "Answer the deputy's question," he said in a calm but firm voice.

Tim at least had a smirk at Malcolm's dusting attempts.

Raylan lifted his eyebrows with a soft Huh of surprise, in a 'fancy that' tone as he looked back down at the man. "Shame to see them in jail for the next five or six years over some shitty little paper forgin'. Not that they look like they're gonna come out much better than you, but you could save them a couple years."

That was reasonable, right?"

The man glared at both of them from the ground, hands gripping his bleeding calf. "Last time I seen him, he was runnin' pills up to Lexington."

"And when was that?" Raylan prompted.

"Day or two ago."

"And any idea where he might be.. right now?" He was starting to get annoyed with the dance.

The guy stayed silent and Raylan lifted his eyebrows expectantly. After a second, Raylan nodded, face scrunching up like he'd decided something as he reached down and hauled the man to his feet, earning a frantic -"Wait, fine. He's been stayin' at my sisters."

"Address?" Raylan asked, lips having vanished in their tightness. The guy spilled and Raylan's everything instantly relaxed. "See? That wasn't hard, was it? Get you Uncle of the year award at least."

He turned around at looked at Tim. "You got an extra set of cuffs?" Tim pulled them and chucked them underhand to Raylan who caught them in one go. "Never leave the house without a spare pair," Tim said dryly, letting people who might wonder what that meant with no real hint.

"That's a good point," Malcolm told Tim. "I might have saved a cranium to the face if I'd had some."

He looked at Raylan. "He's telling the truth, if you had any doubt. Are we going there?"

Tim nodded his agreement, eyebrows lifting in a faint show of sympathy. Though he showed so little, a faint show was a vast step.

Raylan cuffed the guy, who was busy sputtering about how they hadn't called an ambulance yet and this goes against his rights - Raylan interuppted him. "Keep talkin' and you'll ride in the trunk on the way."

He looked over at Malcolm. "Yup." But his eyes were full of questions just for the profiler. "You alright riding around a little longer?"

If Malcolm said yes, which Raylan had no doubt he would, he asked for Malcolm to put their big guy in the car, and to possibly try to not get hit again while he went to go deal with the kids.

Of course he said 'yes'. Raylan had given him an option to participate, even though they were in Harlan.

He took the cuffed, limping suspect and brought him over to Raylan's car, giving him a little shove when he seemed to want to try twisting away from Malcolm's grasp. He got him into the backseat and shut the door on him, looking over towards Raylan to see if he was ready to go and took a glance at Tim, to see if he was saying anything to Raylan and what sort of reaction Raylan's face was having to it.

Raylan and Tim were talking amongst themselves, all hand gestures from one save one glance given to the man standing next to his car. They nodded at each other and walked the kids to Tim's truck, sliding them into the back seat before Raylan sent them off with a slap on the car door.

He headed back towards Malcolm, long stride making shorter work of it, until he was in talking distance again.

"'M afraid that coffee and the rest of your tea has been confiscated as supplies in case either of the shitheads try to claim abuse." He smiled crookedly. "You expect it to be hot when you got down here?"

Goddamn he was glad to see you, Malcolm.

Outside the car, the prisoner could see them, but at least he couldn't really hear them.

He smiled self-consciously at Raylan's remark. "Well, I wasn't really expecting to come down here. I tried to surprise you at your office but almost everyone was there except you." He paused. "I didn't realize they had suspicions," he admitted with a wince. "I might not have tried the bringing everyone coffees and saying 'hi' gambit if I had, but I didn't know where you live..." He paused and glanced around, then looked at Raylan. "Tim assumed I was here to see you. He guessed right away. I hope I didn't... cause any trouble."

Raylan's face was a balm, but he had been wriggling under the guilt of the problems he may have caused the Marshal for most of the drive to Harlan.

"They're Masrhals. There's no helping it. Neither confirm, nor deny." He glanced off towards the car for a second. "We can talk about this more when we've got a door between us and no perp in the back. Arlo's maybe, if we can get the locals to take this weight off our hands." He sighed and started towards the car.

"C'mon. Sooner we get going, sooner it gets done."

He didn't seem angry, but Raylan had a way of simmering that deep inside when he wanted to and Malcolm wasn't sure he'd always be able to tell. He looked uncertain for a moment, but they had a job to do; he nodded resolutely and got in the passenger side of the car.

"How far is it?" he asked.

"Fifteen minutes if I don't speed." Raylan slid into the driver's seat. "8 if I do."

The man in the back spoke up again. "You ain't taking me to a hospital?" Raylan's eyes lifted to look back at him through the review. "I'm only gonna tell you this once, but keep talkin' and you ride in the trunk."

The man thought about it and with a shift of his throbbing leg, he decided to not dare the man in the hat.

Raylan threw them into reverse and down the road.

--

Tim arrived all of a minute before they did and stepped out of his car, staying on the drivers side as he waited for Raylan to get out. Raylan looked over at Malcolm and jerked his head a little, silently asking him to get out of the car with him.

"What's the play?" Tim asked Raylan, glancing at his backseat and almost proud to see the guy still sitting there.

Raylan adjusted his hat. "Well, I figure one of us stays here, the other two go see if little Tommy boy is home. If he's not, we hand these three asshats to the locals and have someone sit on the house."

"Who's goin'?" Tim asked. Raylan shrugged with his face. "Hell, I already shot one guy today, hate to hog all the fun. You got an Avon face?"

Tim smirked.

"I could go," Malcolm volunteered. "Be a lost tourist. Talk him into coming out and giving me directions." He looked from Raylan to Tim. "I have the accent for it." He looked from Tim to Raylan. "And the tie."

Raylan gestured in invitation and Tim headed that way. "Don't worry, I'll let you do the talkin," he assured as they made their way up and knocked on the door. Raylan moved to the drivers side of Tim's car to watch without giving them away by existing.

Malcolm knocked. At first there was no answer. He tried again, a little harder.

A woman came to the door.

"Hi," Malcolm said brightly and a little apologetically. "We're a little lost. It feels like we've been driving in circles for hours. Did you know the GPS doesn't work out here?" he noted.

She just looked at him.

"Can you tell us how to get to Lexington?" he asked.

She sighed heavily and stepped out onto the porch, pointing down the road and giving directions.

"Thank you so much," he told her. He looked apologetic. "Listen, before we go, can I use your bathroom? We've been driving around here for ages."

"Piss on a tree," she drawled.

He looked physically pained at the prospect, smoothing down the front of his suit.

"Look, I'm..." He glanced around distastefully, easily falling into his Rich Boy hat. "I'm not going to urinate on a tree like some sort of barnyard animal. I'll give you a hundred dollars if you let me use your rest room, providing it has indoor plumbing."

She cocked an amused eyebrow at him. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a hundred dollars, holding it out to her. She considered it, then took it and tilted her head towards the door.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, heading inside.

She pointedly shut the door after him, remaining on the porch with Tim while calling after Malcolm "Down the hall, second door on the right!"

Malcolm headed in that direction, but stopped out of her line of sight, listening for any sounds in the house that might tell him where the suspect was.

Tim was ever a silent statue during the whole exchange, only giving the lady a toothy smile that never sat quite right on his face when it wasn't fully real, a little too tight in the corners, once the door shut.

"Nice place you got here."

"Get fucked," she retorted, sensing the sarcasm.

Inside the house, a late 30's something man was listening to the exchange and heard the profiler come in. It was panic or smarts that had him creeping out the back door, with only a faint sound of the wood on wood as it fell shut behind him. Guns being what they were, everyone had them and this guy was no different. Gun in hand, he crept around the dying bush that provided him the only bit of cover he could get to get around to the far side of the cars..

Where he was unlucky enough to surprise Raylan quick enough to get an elbow to the face. It led to a small scuffle and an errant shot that had Tim quick stepping over with his weapon.

"CLEAR," Raylan called, breathless as he pushed up from the ground. "Fired off into the ground, no one's hurt." He took a few deep breaths. "Okay, well no one's dead."

The sister was pissy but smart enough not to draw on Malcolm or the Marshals as Malcolm slipped by her with a polite 'excuse me' and headed back to the car.

It didn't take local police long to get there and collect the criminals. Malcolm stayed near Raylan's car, watching everyone work.

Watching Raylan. Trying not to look like he was watching Raylan.

Waiting for Raylan to come back to the car.

It was better and easier for things like this to move through local PD. Their courts set it up for the higher courts and Raylan's case was almost closed. A little threading together once he was back in the office but that was tomorrow.

Tonight was promising the EMT's and Tim that he was fine and heading back towards his car with a finger at Malcolm before sliding into the driver's seat.

"I cannot tell you how incredibly long this day has been," he sighed as Malcolm slid in beside him. "Do you have a bag in Lexington? A room somewhere? I notice you don't have a bag."

"I got a room. In Lexington. Because we were going to look for a place in Lexington and I didn't know if I'd be able to stay... at the place above the bar." He paused and looked over. "I should have called," he said with a faltering smile.

"No, I'm glad to see you, call or not," he said emphatically as he pulled away from the scene and got them on the long road ahead. "I'm sorry I wasn't in the office when you showed up. If I had known.."

He would have made it a priority to be there.

"But a hotel room is good. No heavy thumps til 2 am.. Though that might be about the time we make it there, it feels like." It wasn't that late, but Raylan was tired in more ways than one.

"Everything okay?"

Edited 2020-06-22 03:10 (UTC)

"I think I gave us away," he said quietly. He looked at Raylan. "Did Tim say anything? Are you going to have problems?"

He shook his head. "Tim didn't say nothing. He won't.. cause problems. He knows what that'll mean, consequences thereof." Unfortunately, Kentucky was still a state that allowed discrimination based on sexuality, but Tim was one of the few people that Raylan trusted to know that and keep his mouth shut.

You only go outside of town for a beer when you have something to hide.

"Between you and me, I think he might also be that way inclined. Though he did tell me once that his ideal way of going out was crushed between Sigourney Weaver's thighs."

"Well, sexuality isn't really black and white. I mean, pretending it is makes it easy to label people, but it's more of a sliding scale. You can be ninety percent straight and end up finding a man or two attractive. Or you can be about ninety percent gay and still enjoy Sigourney Weaver." He took a breath and looked over. "Rachel was asking questions too," he admitted. "I missed you. A lot. I didn't want to screw anything up; I just wanted to surprise you."

Raylan glance over and down from the road to slide his hand up and open across the armrest between them. "I missed you too. And I don't know that the State of Kentucky agrees with your sexual analysis." His face pinched. "Or that I do either but I haven't thought about."

That was a lie, a bald faced lie. He just hadn't come up with the same numbers.

"You haven't messed anything up. And if you have.." He took a deep breath. "Then we're gonna deal with it."

Malcolm took his hand, relishing the warmth of his skin, the touch feeling like an exhale after holding his breath.

"It's not my sexual analysis. It's extensively studied and documented psychology," he said with a hint of a smile. "Though I know the State of Kentucky isn't always reasonable about that sort of thing either."

He turned his hand slightly so he could thread their fingers together.

"How long does it take to get to Lexington? I only ask because I've been here most of the day and I haven't kissed you yet and that feels... wrong."

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We can hotstep it to when local pd has arrived to collect everyone?

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