periodically.

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"I still say that you can possibly find somewhere to crash that's less ass nasty than this dive." Her nose scrunches in distaste as she shoves her sunglasses further up her nose. "Even the motel was a step up."

She's gone and dropped the ratty adjective for said motel given she's still living there herself. It's got class now.

With the full moon over as of last night, this morning finds Lia chilling in front of other-said 'ass-nasty dive'. She's ready enough to face the day, but someone went and left his redneck couture flannel in a mud puddle and she doubts the marshals would appreciate him showing up looking less than hick spiffy. So a stop off to pick up fresh duds for Raylan it is. And thus the never-ending digs at his digs it is. It's what she does.

Comments

[neverleftharlan]

Raylan clatters his way back down the stairs, limps out to meet her, and offers a cup of black coffee while burying his face in his own.

No talky. Just drinking and walking.

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"See, now." Lia hops up and scoots after him toward the car, slurping at her coffee. (She is the most ladylike, you don't even know.) "The reason that you're not answering is 'cause you know I'm right. This is about the part where you go on about seeing the error of your ways and deciding to find someplace that doesn't do a bongo deal on your ears every night. No hurry though. I can wait."

[neverleftharlan]

"I prefer the low rent and free refreshments." Raylan swings into the Towncar, glaring at her over the top of it before he drops into his seat. The run did a bit to soothe his sour feelings over the dirty-marshall business, but he's still sore.

Even if it meant mending bridges, unofficially, with Tim and Art over Winona. He's not, is not, dirty. Not a murderer. And being called both in the same day sticks in a man's craw.

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Lia hesitates a moment before plopping down into the passenger side. Raylan's simmering still, and poking him like this might not be the smartest idea. But she doesn't really get how else she's supposed to be, and to act different means that shit really is as bad as it seems. So.

"Cheap fucker," she says cheerfully before popping up her sneakers on the dash. Glancing at him out the corner of her eye, she puts on a thoughtful frown. "Though if maybe you'd like to change it up, maybe like, say... Springing for ice cream this early in the day I wouldn't say no."

Peace offering? Peace offering.