abrightboy | The Lengths That I Would Go To

The killer was moving around the country. Malcolm Bright could see the pattern, but he wasn't working for the FBI these days and they weren't exactly taking his calls. Short sighted of them, but they did fire him on suspicion of being crazy. The NYPD's jurisdiction was New York. With the killer beyond its borders, they handed it upwards and left it at that.

Let it go, Bright, had been Gil's sage advice. You can't catch every killer in America single-handedly.

Challenge accepted, some part of him retorted, though he'd only nodded mutely and forced a smile. Gil knew he hadn't simply let it go, but he wasn't going to have him followed to stop him doing anything stupid, either. He didn't have the will or the resources to keep tabs on Malcolm Bright 24/7 and Malcolm Bright knew it.

His mother, on the other hand, had extensive resources, so he simply didn't tell her he was leaving town. He did arrange for Ainsley to feed his bird, so the truth would come out eventually, but he'd be several states away by then.

He rode the bus. There was something oddly comforting about the anonymity of being in a crowd of strangers who had no interest in him whatsoever. He stared out the window and watched the country go by. When he stepped off the Greyhound in Lexington, Kentucky, he walked to a nearby hotel and checked in, then headed straight to the US Marshals office. There was no point in trying to talk to the FBI. If he was going to stop a killer from killing again, he needed someone in law enforcement to listen to him. The pattern suggested the next murder would happen in one of the rural communities around Lexington and it would be precipitated by a young woman's disappearance. He needed law enforcement with local knowledge, specifically.

He wandered into the Marshals' offices in a tidy three piece suit, charcoal grey with a burgundy tie perfectly knotted at his collar. He got a few suspicious sidelong glances but nobody asked if they could help him. He cleared his throat.

"Um, hello? I'm wondering if there's anyone here I can talk to about murder." He held up his hands. "Stopping murder, specifically, not... like... smalltalk."

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From:

tinstar

Raylan nodded again, lips turned down in a expression of approving 'huh, well how about that' before slotting the card, typeface forward, back into the mix.

"Art has but we just got in. Quarles didn't give us much notice, so we're flying in a little blind up here. It's not big enough for the FBI for some reason. I'm sure you'll hear from him soon. And if not, well, you already know, what's one more ride along."

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm snorted. "Well, I'm sure if the FBI hears that I'm involved, they'll elbow us out of the way just on principle," he said perhaps a touch bitterly.

He made a sort of vague gesture towards the half moon window and, thus, the city with his teacup. "Did you really just arrive, then?"

From:

tinstar

"In the last hour, and you let Art and the US Marshal's service handle them. If there's one thing we're good at, it's being a pain in the ass. Besides. I got a suit from the Washington office that's got a hard on for trying to make me look like a dangerous liability on account of the number of people I've shot in my line of work. He thinks I'm crooked and in on shit. Seems to be a common theme for them."

Raylan couldn't help but glance over at the window. So it was the one he'd seen from outside. Of course, from there, he could take in the bed on its raised little dias, complete with restraints. There was no stopping the faint lift of his eyebrows.

"How long you been at this place?"

Edited Date: 2 Feb 2020 17:17 (UTC)

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm smiled as Raylan outlined his issues with the FBI. Some of them did have a very particular set of blinders. At his question, Malcolm shrugged.

"About six months, now," he estimated, looking around the room. "But I brought most of this from my apartment in DC."

From:

tinstar

"Good to know you've got more than what fits in a travel bag," Raylan scoffed. "Guess it's all easy to install then, huh?"

He had to find a different topic.

"Didn't see many Motel 6's here - where do people stay? I get to forward the bill to the office but they frown on us spending a Kings fortune."

From:

abrightboy

"Easy to install? Oh, the restraints?" Raylan had a front row seat for one of Malcolm's night terrors; no sense being shy about them now. "Those ones are bolted to the frame of my bed. With heavier duty hardware since I went out the window," he noted, wagging his finger in that direction. "The ones I brought down there just slide under the mattress. They're safe but they don't feel as... firmly secure."

He took a sip of tea at Raylan's next question.

"I'll find you somewhere to stay," Malcolm told him. He was sure someone at the station would know the best budget places to stay.

From:

tinstar

"I'm sorry, out that window?" That was so much more hardware than he expected.

From:

abrightboy

"Yeah. Well. Through that window, more accurately. The bolt let go on the near side but held on the far side and I woke up dangling over the street like a fish on a hook. Glass everywhere. My mother was down on the street and saw the whole thing. I know this, because it was mostly her shouting that woke me up. That was a morning." His tone was good natured and matter of fact. These things: they happen, he seemed to be saying.

From:

tinstar

"Jesus. Talk about a wake up call. Can't imagine that did anything to make her worry less." He couldn't even begin to imagine. Or, well he could but it wasn't his place and would be.. unnecessary.

"Though I suppose it's nice that she's here to care."

From:

abrightboy

"Sometimes it is," he admitted. "Sometimes I try to change the locks and she screams at me when I fall out the window. It's double edged."

He took a sip of tea.

"Mostly the restraints keep me out of trouble," he assured the marshal.

From:

tinstar

"Somehow I doubt that's really a true statement. You seem like the type to always be in trouble." Not exactly the kind of trouble that Malcolm had been talking about but Raylan could make the jump.

"And falling out the window demands a little screaming."

From:

abrightboy

He laughed. "Well she took care of all of it; I was mostly trying to figure out if I was still asleep."

From:

tinstar

"And yet, it's still there," he pointed out as though the problem was obvious. "If you're strong enough to tear out a wall bolt, Spiderman.."

From:

abrightboy

"If your restraint bolts don't hold you, you get stronger bolts," he said. "There are carriage bolts holding those now, right through the frame on each side."

From:

tinstar

"I feel like that just means you like it by the window," Raylan guessed with a smirk. "Well I hope they hold. You're stronger than ya look, you know." First hand experience and all.

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm grinned.

"When you can't sleep, it's nice to have a view," he said, gesturing towards the window. "But they're not that bad every night. Most of the time." He took a sip of tea and then perked up suddenly. "Oh, hey, want me to go with you to the precinct? I could introduce you to Gil."

From:

tinstar

"Oh so I got the Half Power special, good to know." Now he was just teasing him but that's what happened when Raylan got comfortable and started drinking.

"I am sure that Art would appreciate it. Man's convinced I'm going to fall into a bar or a gunfight in the middle of the day for some reason. Might find myself in Queens at Quarles's Daddy lives. Maybe they'll have found a decent hotel."

From:

abrightboy

"Yeeeaaaah you should probably meet Gil before you go busting up people's fathers in his precinct," Malcolm conceded. "He doesn't like those kinds of phone calls when they're unexpected." Malcolm knew from experience. "But, honestly, if you need a place to crash, you can stay here. If you don't mind the potential of late night terrified screaming."

From:

tinstar

"Does he like 'em any better when they are expected?" The question was asked under a smartass lift of one eyebrow. He doubted the answer would be yes.

"Nah, I wouldn't wanta put you out." He glanced over at the couch. "Doesn't much look like a couch that's the type for sleepin' on. More like sipping port or something." It was purely Southern Politeness - you never accepted those kinds of invitations on the first offer. The truth of it was that Raylan would have liked to stay, but that was something friends with a capital F did and Raylan wasn't sure if he counted as a guy who'd only met Malcolm a few times.

Yes, it was slightly hypocritical, but you can take it up with the South.

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm looked over at the couch.

"...Really?" He hadn't considered whether it was a sleep appropriate couch. "I haven't slept on it," he confessed. "Because I can't. No restraints. But it's pretty soft to sit on?" He set his tea down and walked over, sitting on it heavily, so he bounced. "How can you recognize whether a couch is sleep-suitable?" he asked, thoroughly distracted by these logistics. He hadn't really had capital F friends. Raylan could maybe teach him how to recognize those too.

From:

tinstar

"I take it naps are also an impossibility. I'd say you're missin' out, but considering your sleepin' habits already..."

At Malcolm's question, Raylan grinned and slipped back onto his feet to amble over and stand nearby.

"You sleep on enough couches, you can spot ones that aren't broken in. That thing is probably more expensive than my car. I'm going to devalue it by gracing it with the back of my jeans."

From:

abrightboy

"What?" Malcolm said, as though that were absurd, twisting his neck to look up at Raylan. "Don't be ridiculous. Give it a try," he said, gesturing to the spot beside him. "I sit on it all the time."

From:

tinstar

"I thought we were supposed to be meeting Gil." Despite that, he was coming around and making something of a show of sitting down. "I also somehow doubt you've worn jeans in a very long time."

From:

abrightboy

"I wore jeans on Sunday!" Malcolm protested. They were, of course, very expensive designer jeans, but they were made of denim. He was sure they counted. He gestured to where Raylan was sitting. "You're not comfortable?"

From:

tinstar

"Uh-huh." He hadn't realized it before then, but he found himself smirking far more often around Malcolm than not. Almost as much as when he was around Tim.

"It's not too bad. Passable. I guess if you're insisting.." He'd satisfied the demands of politness, right?

"I warn you, I snore."