abrightboy | No One's Born Broken

"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."

A feeling Raylan could commiserate with as their fingers laced together. It had hurt to not touch Malcolm, greet him the way that he wanted. That he needed to.

"No they're not."

The question and statement made him huff a laugh as much as it made his palms itch. "About two and a half hours." He glanced over. "You wanna pull over on the side of the road, make out like I did when I was a teenager?" He wasn't opposed. His thinking was that the sooner they got 'home', the sooner he could wrap himself around and breathe Malcolm in.

He huffed a laugh.

"Yes," he confessed. "But I wouldn't be able to relax, worrying that someone might come along. People know you here." He looked at Raylan, not bothering to try to hide any of the longing in his gaze. "Let's get to the room and lock every lock on the door and forget there's a world out here until tomorrow," he proposed, still tightly clutching his hand.

"Maybe next time, when I'm less beat," Raylan said, tightening his grip with a soft smile over to Malcolm as the car accelerated. Yes, Malcolm's plan was a perfect one that Raylan couldn't wait to get started on.

"In the meantime.. I take it Martin is okay? Safe and sound back in Claremont with all his faculties?"

Malcolm nodded.

"He regained consciousness. He's still in the hospital, but they're supposed to move him back to Claremont to continue his recovery next week. Eve agreed to be my mother's attorney and so far she's not in prison... I guess it's going as well as it can."

"Good," Raylan said with a faint nod of his head. "Your mother eased up on pushin' you, with Eve put in as her lawyer?" He frowned a little. "Why Eve? I get she might be a friend, but.. case like this, why isn't she getting one of the high powered teams that people of means tend to use?"

He probably shouldn't question it but. He had this job for a reason and he couldn't help it.

"She said she chose her because she's good at what she does and she trusts her," he replied. "We'll see if the pressure stays off. I told her I was coming to see you for a few days. I'd hope that'd make enough of a point."

"Something I imagine she's in short supply of in recent years," he said with another faint nod of his head. He couldn't blame Jessica for going with someone she trusted; seemed like something she didn't build or have easily.

"Maybe comin' home with a second address, now in Lexington, will drive it home." Maybe he'd have to marry Malcolm to prove that he meant it, to erase all possibility of Malcolm being 'set up' with anyone else without a blow up argument.

"I've got a couple of neighbourhoods scoped out, and a few listings I haven't gotten to look at yet. The papers are at the bar though."

God, if Malcolm knew he was even considering marrying him...

"Do you work tomorrow? I could go look at them; we could compare notes when you're done," he offered.

"I've got a few hours of paperwork, if nothing else shows up." It wasn't a promise, but it was something. "Art might let me skate on account of how my face looks." He could feel how it looked. "A day off to recoup, the old man that I am."

Malcolm shook his head with a wry smile at the 'old man' remark.

"Art wasn't there today. Rachel was in charge." He looked at Raylan. "Is she more or less sympathetic than Art to Beat Up Old Man Face?" He paused and looked over. "What if she thinks you want to leave because I'm here?"

He shouldn't have gone there; he shouldn't have gone.

"When it comes to paperwork? I haven't tried her yet. Art, I can at least slip by. Rachel's a good Marshal and a decent lady, but she's kinda a hard ass. It's gonna make her a good Chief." He glanced over at the question.

"She won't say nothin' if you don't come into the office with me. But after a bust like that, she's gonna want to see me so we can close it up officially and get it off the desk. That's all she's going to care about Malcolm, I promise."

He could sense the rising guilt and worry in the man beside him and words weren't going to be enough - Damn the long drive. The sooner it was over the better - Raylan just kept reminding himself what lay behind that hotel room door.

Malcolm nodded, somewhat mollified at the reassurance, offering Raylan a weak smile and squeezing his hand.

"I'm not sorry I came. I just... should have thought harder about my approach," he said, looking out the window. He looked at Raylan. "It was fun working with you today."

"I shoulda given you my address at the bar too," he conceded. "There's never any telling when I am and am not in the office." It was okay.

Raylan smiled softly over at him.

"Even though you got a head to the face? Your suit is all dirty and you paid a hundred bucks to get in a door. Which the Marshal's Service will reimburse, if you want."

Malcolm grinned. "Best day at work I've had in a while. Worth every cent. Although, I prefer to think I paid a hundred dollars to flush him out."

He had no intention of asking for the money back. He didn't even bill the NYPD half the time. Old-fashioned law enforcement and no shadow of his father hanging over it: he'd needed that.

He glanced down at his suit and gave himself another useless dust-off.

It was also nice to be a help to Raylan in the field again, rather than a hindrance. His massive failure at the bar still stung him.

"Also my face is less beat up than yours," he said, pulling down the sun visor with his free hand so he could get a look at his shiner in the mirror. "Though it will still raise questions, I suppose." He looked at Raylan. "Is 'you should see the other guy' still a valid response to people asking about something like this?" he asked, pointing at his own face.

Raylan chuckled. "That isn't inaccurate. Good job, by the way."

He glanced over when he could, watching Malcolm preen and prod at his suit and face with a crooked smile. "As far as I know," he replied, breaking into a full grin. "His wasn't the prettiest after getting slammed into that tree."

It had been good to have the help, without any personal touch to the subject or who they were chasing. He knew Malcolm was a Cop, for all intents and purposes, and it was equally just as good to see him working without getting a knife to the throat. What's a headbutt when you've broken your own hand to avoid getting killed?

A headbutt wasn't much. It made him see stars for a second, but he'd had backup to stop the suspect from getting away.

"He wouldn't stop when I said stop!" Malcolm laughed. He looked over. "I expect he's feeling the bullet wound more. It was nice of you to only shoot him in the leg."

Raylan's grin only spread to its peak. What a good sound to have in his car. "I'd already chased one asshole today, I wasn't gonna be chasin' another one. Seems he had a listenin' problem. Besides, I've already got enough paperwork, he wasn't worth the trouble."

"Plus not doing the extra paperwork means you might be able to join me earlier tomorrow." He smiled. "Any extra minute with you is valuable."

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