itwasjustified | [[ downtown lexington, kentucky ]]

Entry tags:

[[ downtown lexington, kentucky ]]

[ "it's not like a change of scenery would hurt." ]

"And that's the only skyscraper -- and I use that term loosely -- you'll see while you're here," Raylan says, pointing out Fifth Third Bank, its black glass and blue detail standing out like a nun in a strip club against the empty skyline.

The city built out, not up; Lexington sprawls to every border of Fayette County, and Fayette County is Lexington.

"It's really just a big town that thinks it's a city," he adds, and points toward the corner of Limestone and Barr, where his office is, before they hang a left off Main to double back toward Ramsey's Diner.

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Reese quietly scoffs.

"Sorry to break it to you," she murmurs, "but I don't do hats."

He cracks a wider smile.

"Relax, I'm only kiddin'."

A beat.

"The fried chicken's great; so's the Hot Brown."

He glances at the menu again.

"Hell, you wanna get one of everything, you won't hear me complain."

She's realizing now that she's still fairly stiff (there's one thing that'll take the edge off, Dani) and rolls her shoulders to try and alleviate it.

"The chicken, then," she says, taking a small sip of water.

"But no one's stopping you from eating your heart out."

"I better not," he says dryly, reaching for his water. "I gotta watch my figure."

But judging by the way he sprinkles salt on a fried green tomato slice and douses it with pepper vinegar, he's not too concerned about his weight.

He nudges the platter closer to her before he cuts into the slice waiting on his saucer.

Sincerely, "I hope you like 'em."

"Bet it'd be easy to lose it around places like these, though," Reese points out, eyeing the way he douses his tomato before gingerly applying a small amount of the same to her own.

Her eyes are soft for a minute, watching him.

Then, quietly: "Thank you."

She takes a small bite.

Fork hovering over his plate, he's wearing an expectant half-smile.

"Culinary experience to die for, or one that just makes you want to die?"

Her eyes widen slightly, but she masks it with a quick nod, another bite.

Her conclusion, casual as can be: "Not bad."

(Understatement of the year.)

His smile widens a fraction.

"Hold on to that badge -- you'd make a lousy food critic."

"It's delicious, alright?"

Since that's apparently what he needed to hear so badly. Reese smirks.

He snickers into his water glass before taking a sip.

"Secret's in the bacon grease," he teases, just before their server returns with plates laden with boneless fried chicken breasts and sides.

Moving his glass to make more room on his side of the table, he looks over the spread with approval before glancing up at Reese.

"You know, I didn't think to ask before -- have you spent much time outside the West Coast?"

"Oh, that just makes me feel so much better about enjoying it," she admits, looking out over the spread with eyes that may or may not be bigger than her stomach as of now.

It's too early to tell, either way.

"Barely any," she adds, helping herself to some chicken.

"Why, am I that obvious?"

"Nah," he says with a shake of his head. "I mean, I'm not surprised you haven't been to Kentucky, anyway -- as hot spots go, it's not real high up on anybody's list of places to visit."

"Ever think that maybe that's why I chose it?" she asks, glancing over at him.

"It couldn't be further from L.A., but that might be what I need."

"I am hopin' you have a good time while you're here."

He realizes that he honestly doesn't know anything about her, other than she's a detective in L.A.

"The grind burnin' you out at home?"

"No more than usual, I guess," she replies, taking a tiny bite of chicken.

It is good; one bite's soon joined by a second.

"But I just figured I'd better take time off for myself now, or otherwise it wasn't going to happen, you know?"

He nods, tucking into his green beans.

(Mmm, bacon grease.)

"We don't have to talk about work if you don't want to," he says once he's swallowed.

"Oh, it's okay," she answers, covering her mouth to hide a bite of chicken still being chewed.

"I don't mind it at all - but I'm sure there's other things you want to know about me besides my job, right?"

Reese smiles crookedly.

"I do," he says, returning the smile.

"Tell me what you want me to know, Dani Reese."

"Oh, isn't that just opening up a potential can of worms," she jokes - though, really, there's more truth to it now than he likely realizes.

"I like black coffee. I go nuts if I can't use my mornings to run. And I'm actually really enjoying this fried chicken."

A moment of studying, and then she adds:

"And I may not be a hat person, but it looks good on you."

"Thank you."

He thinks of Rachel, and what she told him on the way back to LAX.

"You get away with just about anything."

"What do I get away with?"

"Look in the mirror. How do you think it'd go over if I came into work one day wearing a cowboy hat? You think I'd get away with that?"

He refocuses on Dani.

"Don't let me forget to show you the better places to get coffee nearby. They're within joggin' distance of your hotel."

Her jaw doesn't drop, but the expression on her face makes it very clear that she's impressed.

"You're three-for-three, Marshal," she murmurs, reaching for her water glass.

"I do recall a promise I made -- something about showin' you a good time."

"That only proves your word is good."

Still, it's a rarity these days, and her gaze lowers to her plate with a brief smile.

He catches that smile before his eyes return to his own plate, and he spears a forkful of mac and cheese.

"You sound surprised over there."

"People like that are sometimes hard to come by," Reese points out, her own fork nudging her mac and cheese around a little on her plate.

"You know."

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