abrightboy | No One's Born Broken

Raylan watched carefully with a very strong attempt to not look like he was, popping another bite in his mouth with a glance over at Willa. Everyone eating; good. Somehow that reassured him - if they could manage a meal together..

"If it makes you feel any better, it's just egg and bread. Little bit of seasoning if they know what they're doin'. Tell you what, bein' with you has got me payin' a lot more attention to my food than I used to. Still haven't decided if that's a good or a bad thing yet," he said, lips curling teasingly. "The bliss of not thinkin' about it almost makes the carbs go away."

Malcolm grinned, pleased, though he scoffed a light laugh at the last remark. "You can't possibly worry about carbs with your metabolism," he noted, carefully taking another bite of the french toast. He winced a little as he swallowed it; it was so... thick. "Alcohol is a much greater threat to your health, actually. You process so quickly that more of it hits your liver," he explained conversationally.

"It's all the salads and kale shakes I sneak in," he replied, sarcastic but not accusingly or condescending so. "I take off days."

Okay, only when he was on a stake out, or out for days hunting for someone, but that happened often enough that he counted it.

"I'm doin' alright." Mostly.

"I don't think it's worrying," Malcolm assured him. "I just think it's a bigger concern than carbs in your case."

He took a small forkful of eggs and chased it with a sip of coffee. The third piece of french toast was a wait and see sort of deal.

"The taste is weird but kind of nice," he said, gesturing towards Raylan's plate.

Willa was busy trying to get the eggs from the plate to her mouth and managed to get less in than Malcolm, though she wasn't shy about wearing it as a little egg fu man chu.

Raylan lifted his eyebrows in a passing 'Oh good' kind of look as he cut a piece of ham and popped it into his mouth. "It is one of the heavier breakfasts, I admit. But it'll hold me til dinner because of it. You too probably," he reasoned, before cutting another piece of ham.

"I'll try to make things at work quick. Havin' a baby slows me down for more reasons than one - I swear she is a beacon to every older woman in Lexington. If one more granny stops me, I'm gonna scream."

"Only grannies? From everything romantic comedies have ever taught us about sociology, an attractive single man with a baby ought to be delayed by women of every age," Malcolm teased.

"Well, not only grannies, but they're the safest." The last thing he needed was Malcolm worrying about Raylan getting snatched up by some beautiful woman who thought his baby was just 'so cute'. "Besides, I'm not single anymore. Maybe they sense it," he teased back, before happily popping another bite into his mouth.

Nobody around there knew Raylan wasn't single, but his hypothesis about it made Malcolm grin. "Is 'hopelessly smitten' a vibe a person can give off? I must be broadcasting it everywhere."

"It is, but without context, you're just very enthusiastic about life," Raylan said with a smirk as he took another bite and finally noticed the mess Willa was making. Setting down his silverware, he got a few napkins and started wiping the worst of it off.

"How anyone doesn't know when we're together, I'm still unsure of, but it's still none of their business." Yes, he had work to do on himself. It wasn't going to stop him from starting that work now. Every day and in every way that he could talk himself into.

Malcolm smiled softly as Raylan wiped up the baby, his eyes drifting to Raylan's face after a moment.

"You fit an image of masculinity in their minds that they can't reconcile with their image of the sort of man who'd kiss me. You're protected by a cloak of them not even trying to."

Raylan looked over briefly at that answer before finishing up with Willa's initial clean and dropping the fist full of napkins on the far side of the table with a faint passing lift of his eyebrows.

Not all questions needed a literal answer, but he didn't want to deflate Malcolm if he could help it.

"I imagine I look like the kinda man doesn't do a whole lot of some of what I do." Like reading for recreation. Not that he allowed himself that kinda time anymore. His point still stood.

"Too bad it doesn't protect me from assholes."

Malcolm didn't always recognize a rhetorical question. Raylan was kinder about it than most people.

"I think you'd enjoy it for maybe a week if it did. And then you'd get bored and go looking for some," he teased.

"Well I can't argue with that. They do bring a particular joy to my life," he said, lifting his mug in the barest cheers towards the scumbags he chased giving him reason to get up every day.

"You sure you ain't gonna be.. bored down here?" he asked, one eye squinting a little as he looked over. After all, Malcolm could only get so much tea.

Malcolm shook his head. "There's a whole city to discover. An apartment to develop. You to look forward to. And if all else fails, I know they have a local PD," he pointed out. "Maybe I'll introduce myself."

Raylan hummed, features still unsure in their squint as he cleared out the rest of his french toast. The waitress came by with the coffee pot and topped Raylan's cup off, with a nod of a thanks. She looked to Malcolm. "You want a new cup, honey?"

Once she'd gotten her answer and went off, Raylan answered with a smirk as he pulled the rest of the ham towards himself. "Just don't mention my name. It'll be easier for ya."

"Oh, no thank you," he told the waitress, taking a bite of eggs as she left, then looking over at Raylan.

"I wouldn't but... out of curiosity, why is that? You seem to be pretty good at getting your man."

"Mm. Lexington is still a smaller town, and once you've been framed for murder and set up as a dirty cop, the local PD tend to take a long lasting suspicion to a man. Add that to the shit they already hear me do.."

"Uh... what? A dirty cop? What are you talking about?"

He could picture few law enforcement officers he'd ever met who seemed less corruptible than Raylan Givens.

"It's been floated a few times between the local PD and the Feebs that I am in Boyd Crowder's pocket." His face conveyed just how deeply disgusting and ridiculous he found that, features scrunching up as he said the name.

"And since it's happened more than once, some of 'em got it in their head that I'm in the middle of so much shit in Harlan on purpose. Doesn't help that Arlo was in Boyd's crew before he died either. Ain't much use in arguin' with them about it; they're never gonna pin that kinda shit on me, but that means I can't do much of anythin' about what everyone else thinks."

So, heads up out of professional respect, though he would have told Malcolm about it anyway, had he been given or created a better chance.

"Wow, that is... pretty disgusting social bias," Malcolm remarked conversationally, taking another bite of eggs. "I don't know if I want to work with them."

"To their credit, they're good cops and.." His shoulders rolled unevenly. "Some of the evidence didn't put me in the best light. Only fell apart because the FBI guy refused to give up the source that started the investigation, so everything they collected up to that point was trashed. It ain't their fault," he defended casually.

Malcolm raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that how you defend yourself? I can see why it's gotten out of hand. You're not corrupt; the notion is ridiculous. Why are you making excuses for why it 'fell apart'? It was never together."

"'Course it wasn't, but we only work on the information we have. The fact that it didn't get made into somethin' more is what shows just how not together it ever would be. I don't need to defend myself; it's just as ridiculous to do so. What's it matter- it fell out alright. They can think what they want."

Malcolm still looked faintly dubious as he took a sip of coffee, but it was Raylan's business, not his. Still, if he did work with the local PD and it came up... he wasn't sure he could keep his mouth shut. Maybe it was better to just not.

He considered the plate of eggs for a moment and took another bite, then looked at Raylan. "Where do you like to go in town?" he asked.

Out here in the country, sometimes speaking up got you more trouble than it was worth. Raylan was utterly unbothered by it, either way - he knew the truth, his team knew the truth and no real legal action had been taken. Others, historically, had sometimes gotten less lucky.

"No where, if I can help it," he admitted with a curl of his lips. "Not since collage, anyway. There's a few restaurants worth goin' to. The theater ain't bad but Lexington is just as small town as Harlan, more or less. Little more money, little more influence, but." His fork bobbed back and forth before he cut off another piece of ham.

"Wish I could give ya a list of places worth a damn. Then maybe I'd feel better about leavin' you at home when I go to the office."

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