The Lengths That I Would Go To

[abrightboy]

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."

Comments

[abrightboy]

"Don't worry; I'll make sure you get home safely," Malcolm teased with a bit of a laugh. The idea of him protecting Raylan was funny to him somehow. Possibly he was also already buzzing a bit.

[tinstar]

"At this rate, you'll have to." If nothing else, Raylan didn't have to worry about Boyd or Ava or some country bullshit stealing his night and the rare ability to drink rich booze without having to worry about if he was going to have to shoot someone was one he was going to take advantage of.

Arlo wouldn't have had it any other way.

"I'll follow your lead."

[abrightboy]

When they returned to the table, Malcolm took his seat again, draping his napkin back across his lap.

Ainsley raised an eyebrow at him cheekily.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she sing-songed, also cheekily.

He gave her a distinct 'shut it down' look, but she just took a sip of her wine.

The waiter arrived and set an elaborate cream filled pastry in front of each of them.

"So did you see anything you liked?" Ainsley asked Raylan.

[tinstar]

Raylan tried to not look guilty as he sat back down, only half succeeding as he slid into his chair, somehow with a fresh scotch in his hand. He chose to ignore the exchange between siblings, reminding himself for the 15th time that night that they were colleagues.

Later, he would have to do some self examination, to see if he could see whatever it was that they saw to assume differently.

"They're offering what looks to be very nice things, but I'm afraid I don't have an adequate taste for it or the pockets deep enough. I'm satisfied enough with looking." Besides, he was already going home with who he wanted. "Are you here just to support your mother, or are you hoping to catch some juicy story here?"

[abrightboy]

"Oh, I imagine I got strong-armed into it the same way you did," she told him with an innocent expression.

"Please, dear, if I have to strong-arm you into doing some good works, then so be it," Jessica said airily.

Ainsley leaned forward conspiratorially. "But I am always looking for a juicy story," she said.

Malcolm took his phone from his pocket like he just felt it buzz.

"It's Gil," he said, getting up from his chair. He looked at Raylan. "Want to stay here and eat pastry or go solve a crime with us?" he asked with a bright smile.

"Like that's even a contest in your world," Ainsley pointed out.

"I know, right?" Malcolm shot back happily.

[tinstar]

He knew he couldn't confirm so he let a merriment in his eyes do the talking as he took another healthy sip. He liked Ainsley; she was alright. Fun, even, despite her situation.

The mention of Gil had him glancing up at Malcolm like he was surprised and flashing a half grin as he stood up, pushing his chair in behind him.

"Ainsley, a pleasure to meet you," he said with a little incline of his head before hazel eyes turned to Jessica. "Thank you again for inviting me. Lovely time." She got the same kind of too polite nod before Raylan was ready to and readily followed Malcolm towards the door.

It didn't much matter to him if Jessica thought they were running away, now that they were headed that way.

[abrightboy]

Jessica was accustomed to Malcolm jumping when Gil said 'jump', no matter what they were in the middle of, so she waved them off in an almost weary acceptance and then waved the waiter over to refill her glass.

Once outside on the sidewalk, Malcolm looked over at Raylan.

"Okay, that part went pretty well."

[tinstar]

As soon as they were outside, Raylan was taking a deep breath and looking a million times better for it.

"Thank you for gettin' me outta there," he said with an earnest look. "I have never sat in a pool of piranhas before now. I can strike it off my bucket list. I'm half surprised she didn't threaten to tie us to the chairs." He took another deep breath, raking a hand through his hair.

"I could walk a little. And drink a little more. Could you walk a little?" he asked with a finger towards his companion.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm nodded and chose a direction down the sidewalk, starting them that way.

"She wouldn't stop me from going to a crime. She knows there's no point."

He slid his hands into his pockets and looked over at Raylan. "I have more scotch at home."

[tinstar]

"At least there's that escape route."

Raylan nodded. "We'll get there, I just.." He gestured uselessly. "Need a few minutes." To calm down. To let go of some extra energy, to get the seed of irritation out of his caw.

"What was going on with you and your sister?"

[abrightboy]

He didn't mind walking at all. It was how he passed nights he couldn't sleep.

At the question, he let his head fall back with a very long-suffering sigh.

"My mother clearly drew some conclusions from the scene she sashayed into this morning and told her them."

[tinstar]

He fidgeted with the ring on his finger, letting the long strides carry his attention more than the question he was circling around.

"Your mother's got some fine ideas.." He wasn't sure this was one of them. "I'm sure they'd change that when they realize I'm a 41 year old divorcee." With a kid. Raylan couldn't bring himself to bring the baby into the picture, there was too much on his plate.

[abrightboy]

"I'm not sure it would," Malcolm told him. "At this point, they'd probably be happy if I dated a man-alligator hybrid that crawled out of the sewer if I wasn't alone for five minutes. They seem to think I can't manage relationships."

Not that there was no reason for them to think that.

"I'm sure there was a time when my mother had high hopes that I'd find a society wife and have well-adjusted heirs to the family legacy that she could show off pictures of at the country club, but this is about as good as I get and hallucinations and incessant night terrors don't mix with society wives."

[tinstar]

Raylan gave him a brief sympathetic pull of a smile. "Trust me, marriage isn't all it's cut out to be."

He let the silence settle between them before he spoke up again. "Winona and I used to fight all the time about what I had to do and how much the job took me away. The fact that I couldn't take a desk job, and the affair she had with her realtor because of me is the reason she divorced me after 6 years.. She married the realtor..

I don't think anyone is well adjusted, if I'm honest."

[abrightboy]

"'Because of you' is a bit harsh," said the king of blaming himself for things other people did. "She chose to sleep with the realtor because she couldn't deal with the marriage anymore. Did you get that job after you two got together?" Malcolm asked.

[tinstar]

He shook his head. "I was a Mashal when I met her. She knew the job came with me. But I had promised to take the instructors job at Glynco. More than once. But something always came up.." His fingers rubbed together as they walked, obvious a little anxious in talking about it without a drink in his hand.

"It was a choice on my part. Things left undone that need doing. Just as much my fault as hers. She wanted me to chose her. I could have chosen her." But he hadn't.

"My point being that I'm.. married to my badge." And not gay. That was the underlying message and one that Raylan was struggling to keep squarely in his front vision. "And Kentucky until Boyd is dealt with and behind bars."

[abrightboy]

"Ah." That did put things in perspective. "Well. They do say it takes two to tango," he conceded. "I'm not the best person to talk to about long term relationships. I've never had one."

[tinstar]

"How long has your longest short one been?"

[abrightboy]

He looked over. He was, honestly, a little embarrassed by it.

"Three and a half months."

With a woman, but they hadn't all been women.

"But everyone has a limit to how many times they can take being woken up by a screaming maniac, no matter what they say at the start."

[tinstar]

Raylan nodded, curling his lips faintly. He wasn't ready to ask about anything as complicated as gender; the return questions would be easily answered and still leave a disquiet in him.

"I imagine that plenty have thought they could.. fix you somehow." Just like Ava and Winona and the bartender he'd stayed with for a while had. "Seems to be a problem with taking us for how and what we are.."

"I think I'm about ready for that scotch," he admitted.

[abrightboy]

"Not 'plenty'," Malcolm said. "Two. ...Maybe three of them. Nobody else got close enough to find out what a unique fixer-upper opportunity I am."

He stepped into the street and put a hand up. A taxi pulled over and Malcolm opened the door for Raylan before sliding in next to him.

[tinstar]

"Makes you sound like Arlo's house.. Except you've got curb appeal." Raylan slid into the taxi and let Malcolm rattle off his address.

"Your mother shouldn't chide you in front of strangers," he said, admitting to another piece of irritation as his right hand thumb pushed his finger around some more. "I don't think she acknowledges who or what you and I stop out there.."

It was good work and her mental security was, in part, due to their efforts and many other people like them.

[abrightboy]

"There are a lot of things my mother shouldn't do," he admitted. "And if I could only stop one of them, it'd be the 10am tumbler of gin. I'm used to the chiding and it won't take years off her life."

He glanced out the window and then looked at Raylan. "She doesn't dislike cops. She appreciates what they do. She just..." He took a deep breath and gave a sort of helpless shake of his head. "She thinks it's beneath me as a job."

[tinstar]

"But you're good at it," Raylan replied, eyes lighting up with a little fire in them. "And that lookin' down her nose at people. I understand that her money and lifestyle entitle her to her opinion, but its opinions like that that keep us country folk away from places like this."

His fingers rubbed together some more as he looked at Malcolm. "What do you say to her opinion of your profession?"

[abrightboy]

"I don't usually dignify it with more than an eye-roll. She doesn't actively try to stop me. But if you want to get down to the psychology of it..." He turned a self-deprecating smile to Raylan, "And I know how you love psychology," he teased. He took a breath. "She survived my father too. And right when she found out that her husband was a monster, she was frozen out by her so-called friends and her family, left alone with her liquor cabinet and two kids, one of whom was left weird and damaged and she blames herself for that. All the looking down her nose and bossing people around is her way of trying to stay in control of her life somehow." He held up a hand. "I'm not saying it's good choices, but it is what it is. She means well. She tries."