Raylan Givens (
itwasjustified) wrote2010-05-28 11:48 pm
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[[ lexington, kentucky ]]
[ "you do realize you're pokin' fun at the man who's supposed to explain box trifectas to you tomorrow, don't you?" ]He's still in jeans and cowboy boots, but Raylan's dressed a little less casually this morning -- instead of a T-shirt and well-worn flannel, he's in a checkered button-down, tie, and sportcoat, Stetson ever-present on his head.
Double-checking the room number, he tucks the paper bag he's carrying beneath his other arm before he knocks on Dani's door.
(Nestled inside are muffins from the best bakery in town, and beneath those, a box of granola bars from Whole Foods -- he couldn't resist after a particular bit of conversation yesterday.)
When she opens the door, she'll find him carefully transferring the bag back to his free hand while he balances two coffees in a travel tray.
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"I do."
She plucks a piece from off the side, pinching it between her fingers, and takes a bite.
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"Oh, but you don't," he says, unable to resist and cracking a smile. "You hate 'em, and you're just tryin' to avoid wounding my fragile male ego."
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However, there might be a smirk she tries to hide.
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"Good -- I'd hate to think you were sufferin' a fool, especially if the one in question is me."
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"Oh, you don't have to worry about that."
Her feet gently scuff against the carpet underneath them.
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"What should I be worrying about, then?"
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"You'll get fair warning."
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"That gives me the cold kind of comfort, at best."
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She punctuates the question with a quick sip of coffee.
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Muffin or not, there's no breakfast for Reese without her caffeine.
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Half-smug, "It's even fair trade."
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Fondly muttered: "Who's the hippie now?"
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A beat.
"Besides, the hippies don't like me. The badge represents The Man."
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She sets both half-empty cup and half-eaten muffin aside.
"Don't you ever take it off?"
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It's in his glove compartment right now, as opposed to on his person.
"But apparently," he says wryly, "I give off a certain straight-and-narrow vibe."
He lifts a hand to draw air-quotes with two fingers for the last word.
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"I'm not so sure that's the vibe I'm getting."
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"I'll bite," he says, a lazy half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"What kind are you gettin'?"
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"And slightly curved."
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"Detective Reese," he says instead, more than a touch of wickedness lighting his eyes, "are we still talkin' about my vibe?"
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"You tell me." Her eyes find his face in the mirror.
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"I think that might be a highly sensitive personal question."
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Her eyes snap back to the mirror.
"That's fine, you don't have to - sorry."
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He stands, putting down the muffin and brushing off his hands.
Taking off his hat, he holds the Stetson in one hand.
"The innuendo, that was an inappropriate joke. If anybody should apologize, it's me."
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"Don't worry about it," she says, smiling crookedly.
"I'm a pretty lousy flirt."
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