[ — and then a long radio silence as he parks, gets out, ambles into the station. the conversation he has at the desk doesn't take long; he doesn't even have to fork out bail since he just flashed his badge and fobbed off a story about needing him for something or other. by the time they want him back, the charges will have been dropped, or at least that's what he's hoping for. for a second it feels like he's a teenager again, in the county jail to drag arlo out of the drunk tank. just for a second, though, before he sees nate lounging in the cell. he has the key hidden in his fist – perks of being a trusted law enforcement officer – and there's nobody else with him, so it only makes sense to cruise over and lean against the bars, appropriating a stoically apologetic expression. ]
[ It was a fashion pun, one he chuckled quietly to himself about before tucking the phone away and folding his arms over his chest, relaxing against the wall. Eyes shut in a gentle sort of drowse - jerked from any semblance of true peace by the occasional discordant sounds from his cellmate - Nate cracks a single lid open when the door down the hall buzzes and the rolling sound of metal on tracks echoes into the tank.
Oddly, it's the distinctive walk he recognizes before a familiar figure kicks into view and leans against the bars looking for all the world like a cowpoke at the local watering hole, fishing for gossip. Nate pushes himself to stand, meandering over and leaning right back, brow knit and voice furtive. ]
Mhm, I guess they do. [ raylan kicks the toe of his boot against the edge of the cell door and it clanks loudly, reverberating for a few seconds. he lifts his eyes up to make eye contact and flash an oopsie! sort of expression. ] Seems to me like you just got one of those faces.
[ he lets his own face crumple again as he tips his hat back so he can press his forehead up against the bars, half because he's enjoying the tease and half because he is actually really warm and the metal is cool against his skin. ] Tell you the truth, I got no idea what to do right now. [ raylan worries at his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment as if he's working something out, weighing it all up. ] Now, I know you probably ain't got a map of this place tattooed on your chest — [ more than probably, he knows it for sure, but nate's cellmate might be listening harder than it looks like he is ] — but I could try smugglin' you a rock hammer and a Raquel Welch poster.
[ Wouldn't be the first time someone's told him he has one of those faces, and neither will it be the last, though there's something a bit off about the delivery of the bad news, like there's another cowboy boot waiting to drop.
Bicep pushed up against the bars Nate rests his temple on steel and furrows his eyebrows further, caught between confusion and a sensation he can't identify. Surprise, maybe? Raylan sure is chewing the scenery for contrition, but Nate is already glancing back at his cellmate, the ceiling, the corners - the same assessment technique he employs on any job, in any unfortunate scenario. There's nothing, of course, and when his attention starts orbiting Raylan again it is with suspicious concern. ]
Yeah, sure, I'll just chip through the concrete into the guard room over the next fifteen years and no one will be the wiser.
[ An edge of tension creeps into his voice, less concerned for internment time and more for the inconvenience it poses. His fingers slip through the bars, tugging briefly on the hem of a denim jacket. ]
You don't wanna just charm the security guy with your intimate knowledge of fashion?
[ raylan gives himself a few extra chins in the process of looking down at nate's hand. it's a pretty bold play and he's already half-forgotten they're not alone when nate lets go again, so when he looks back up his gaze is a little harder, more intent. it's kind of funny just watching nate math it out, and for a little while raylan's stuck wondering if he's genuinely trying to think of an escape route. maybe if he concentrates hard enough he could contort himself through the bars. ]
Well, of course I tried that. Would you believe he told me the Canadian tuxedo is no longer in fashion? Must've missed that memo.
[ Were he of a much less solid constitution, Nate might attempt such acrobatic feats as finagling through prison bars, but he is long-since past his reedy street rat days. Were there a vent in the room he might pry it open, were his cellmate less of a whiny killjoy they might come up with a good reason for a guard to walk in and get clocked, but Nate knows that all such strategies are long-shots.
Disappointed resignation begins to set in, and it's just as he is beginning to accept his foreseeable sleeping situation that it clicks. ]
[ he pulls away from the bars to let his fingers spring out, a very lowkey reveal of the key. nate's already been kicking around in here for too long so he doesn't waste any time unlocking the cell and holding the door open. he's really, sincerely trying not to let his grin turn too shit-eating. ]
C'mon. You think I'm that goddamn useless? The hell's the point of this star otherwise?
Edited (did u know u are supposed to Finish sentences) 2019-07-07 18:49 (UTC)
[ The reveal is so blatantly, ridiculously smug that Nate wishes he could muster up something more withering than a roll of his eyes that takes its time crossing the concrete ceiling. He shouldn't be surprised. He shouldn't be, but here he is walking through the open door, shaking his head. ]
You're such an asshole.
[ Nate can't even manage to make the words sting, the huff of an incredulous laugh breaking through, wishing he could flick that smirk off Raylan's face. He makes a point of doing some exaggerated arm-stretching, as though he'd been kept in Sing-Sing's original cell block and not a twenty-foot square room with space to spare. ]
Here I was thinking I'd have to persuade a gang to take me in.
In all honesty, Nate, I would've loved to see it, [ Raylan tells him sincerely, propping a hand on his hip for a second before he swings the door closed and locked once Nate's out. Honestly, sometimes he's just too funny. Raylan ambles along beside him, still grinning to himself. ] So how'd that treat you? You reformed yet?
[ He believes it. Raylan's never made any bones about the fact he likes to see Nate improvise, and frankly, he's made uneasy alliances behind bars before. There was always the assumption he'd be getting out though, except for the time he spent a quarter of a year in the hole in Turkey. Nate could take or leave that experience. ]
Oh, I'm a changed man. Completely rehabilitated.
[ He quips with a candor so earnest it just about sounds faked. The way down the hall is short, another buzzing sound as the door at the end switches to unlocked and Nate pushes it open, gesturing Raylan through. ]
Really learned the error of my ways here, can't you tell?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
can't wait
i've been a model inmate
1/2
no subject
Tried my level best, Nate. I really did.
no subject
Oddly, it's the distinctive walk he recognizes before a familiar figure kicks into view and leans against the bars looking for all the world like a cowpoke at the local watering hole, fishing for gossip. Nate pushes himself to stand, meandering over and leaning right back, brow knit and voice furtive. ]
...Really. They like me that much.
no subject
[ he lets his own face crumple again as he tips his hat back so he can press his forehead up against the bars, half because he's enjoying the tease and half because he is actually really warm and the metal is cool against his skin. ] Tell you the truth, I got no idea what to do right now. [ raylan worries at his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment as if he's working something out, weighing it all up. ] Now, I know you probably ain't got a map of this place tattooed on your chest — [ more than probably, he knows it for sure, but nate's cellmate might be listening harder than it looks like he is ] — but I could try smugglin' you a rock hammer and a Raquel Welch poster.
no subject
Bicep pushed up against the bars Nate rests his temple on steel and furrows his eyebrows further, caught between confusion and a sensation he can't identify. Surprise, maybe? Raylan sure is chewing the scenery for contrition, but Nate is already glancing back at his cellmate, the ceiling, the corners - the same assessment technique he employs on any job, in any unfortunate scenario. There's nothing, of course, and when his attention starts orbiting Raylan again it is with suspicious concern. ]
Yeah, sure, I'll just chip through the concrete into the guard room over the next fifteen years and no one will be the wiser.
[ An edge of tension creeps into his voice, less concerned for internment time and more for the inconvenience it poses. His fingers slip through the bars, tugging briefly on the hem of a denim jacket. ]
You don't wanna just charm the security guy with your intimate knowledge of fashion?
no subject
Well, of course I tried that. Would you believe he told me the Canadian tuxedo is no longer in fashion? Must've missed that memo.
1/2
Disappointed resignation begins to set in, and it's just as he is beginning to accept his foreseeable sleeping situation that it clicks. ]
I dunno, looks pretty good on y-
no subject
no subject
[ he pulls away from the bars to let his fingers spring out, a very lowkey reveal of the key. nate's already been kicking around in here for too long so he doesn't waste any time unlocking the cell and holding the door open. he's really, sincerely trying not to let his grin turn too shit-eating. ]
C'mon. You think I'm that goddamn useless? The hell's the point of this star otherwise?
no subject
You're such an asshole.
[ Nate can't even manage to make the words sting, the huff of an incredulous laugh breaking through, wishing he could flick that smirk off Raylan's face. He makes a point of doing some exaggerated arm-stretching, as though he'd been kept in Sing-Sing's original cell block and not a twenty-foot square room with space to spare. ]
Here I was thinking I'd have to persuade a gang to take me in.
IT'S BEEN ♩ 19 WEEKS SINCE YOU LOOKED AT ME ♫
👀
Oh, I'm a changed man. Completely rehabilitated.
[ He quips with a candor so earnest it just about sounds faked. The way down the hall is short, another buzzing sound as the door at the end switches to unlocked and Nate pushes it open, gesturing Raylan through. ]
Really learned the error of my ways here, can't you tell?