haolehothead | (no subject)

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Danny's starting to wonder if he'll have any hair left come the end of the month. The fourteenth of January is fast approaching and the snow's still around. Hell, he's starting to think it's never going away and at this rate, he's never going to be able to give Steve the goddamn beach wedding he wants. He's not lying, but he thinks that he might just call the whole thing off if he gets one more sign from a higher power that this isn't meant to be.

As it is, he's hanging around some of the market stalls to look for some fresh food to bring back and add to a healthy heaping of pancakes for Jack. If he's staying the night, Danny wants to have something ready for him in the morning.

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"Where does he stay the rest of the time?" she asks, hoping it's at least with something resembling an adult. Sometimes she seriously wonders about the island kids. Which leads to a million nightmares about what's going to happen with her own.

"The homestead," Danny answers, leaning forward to pick up one of the strawberries and give it a sniff. "He's a good kid with an unfortunate background and I care a lot about him. If I can make him some pancakes and convince him that not everything in the world is bad, then...I'll do it."

Rachel loves Danny. She knows this, but she's struck suddenly by how goddamn fond she is. "He's lucky to have you watching over him," she says, leaning against his side. "Seriously, we all are. You know that, right?"

"I'm just doing what's right," he says, turning away from the stall with blueberries clutched to his side possessively, holding one between two of his fingers. "Hey, come here, open your mouth. You have to try some of these, they're incredible."

She grins and dutifully opens her mouth, a little bummed that the big, pregnant belly makes this look a lot less dirty. "Thanks, babe. Hey, so do you have a minute. I want to talk to you."

"Yeah?" Danny replies, slightly worried that she's about to spring some terrifyingly bad news on him. "I'm all ears whenever you're ready. Although, is this going to be inappropriate? Should we really be discussing this in the street?"

"Not really so much inappropriate as really embarrassing and awkward," she says, tugging him back towards the nearest cafe. "Come drink weird, British tea with me and eat scones and all that."

"Don't think you're getting away with weird British caffeinated tea," Danny points out. "I was married to a Brit, I know all about the sneaky ways they stuff caffeine into things that have no business having caffeine in them."

"Yeah, yeah," she huffs, dragging him inside and ignoring the weird, total lack of response from the fake people. "Okay, I have something to tell you but you have to promise to keep it to yourself, okay?" she says, settling down in a corner table.

"It depends on what it is, but you know I don't do well at keeping things from Steve," Danny says, easing her along in a gentle gait so he doesn't rush her. "But yeah, you know me. I would never do it unless there was good enough cause."

"There's no reason to tell Steve," she insists, twisting the end of her cloth napkin between her fingers. "So I'm going to tell you this because I just want to get it off my chest but I don't want to do anything and under no circumstance are you to go do or say anything about it," she says, fixing him with a look.

"All right, all right," Danny says defensively, lifting his hands up in the air to show that he'll do what she wants. "Again, Steve is not included in anyone," he warns, "but only under duress." Or really good sex, but he doesn't say that part. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," she starts, voice not quite steady and she can feel a humiliated blush start up already. "It's just...that marriage license, you know? From home? It really, really bothers me and it bothers me that I told the world I loved that guy and made it official when that's so fucking wrong and I kept thinking about how I want something in my life to be done the right way and I..." she trails off, staring hard down at the table."

Danny listens.

He listens so carefully that, at first, he thinks it's a total mistake. She can't be saying what he thinks she's saying, but there's very few other places to go with that. "And?" he prods, wanting to hear it in her own words.

"I keep thinking about what it would be like to be official," she murmurs, napkin now a wadded up mess. "Not the wedding part or any of it but just to be a family. Like you're supposed to be. But it could be the hormones for all I fucking know I just know I want it and I needed to tell someone."

"So, basically, you want to get married to prove that a piece of paper from back home has nothing on you and pregnancy is messing with your emotions. This is what I'm getting from what you're saying," Danny clarifies before she does something like smacks him.

That's not right..but it is what she said, more or less. "Christ," she sighs, scrubbing a hand across her face. "No, I want to get married. I want him to want to want to marry me, okay? I want the whole family thing and I'm super fucking embarrassed about it."

Danny's pretty sure he follows her, but it essentially boils down to something very simple: she wants Raylan to marry her for her. "Babe, have you told him this, yet?" he asks gently. "Cuz, I mean, this is something that you ought to tell him."

"No!" she flails, looking around like Raylan might pop out of the woodwork. "No, God, Danny I don't want him to know. He doesn't want to get married. He's still all screwed up from his first marriage and I'm pregnant with his kid and he'd feel pressured and shit. No, I just wanted to tell you. I mean, it would ruin everything. What's he gonna say, no? Then we're fucked."

"You have to tell him, babe, he's the father of your child, your boyfriend, and he deserves to know if you've changed your opinions about marriage," Danny points out incredulously. "I say this as a once-father myself. You don't want to let this fester while the baby grows up. Trust me."

Rachel knows he's probably right, because Danny is usually right. Apparently he was right about the whole goddamn marriage thing to begin with.

"Not till after the baby is born," she insists, biting her lip. "I don't want him to feel pressured. I can't be that girl that does that to a guy."

"Okay, but, Rachel, this is big," Danny reminds her with a soft laugh. "And I mean that in a good way. I want you to be loved and I want you to be happy. I'm pretty sure Raylan's your best bet of it, here."

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean the same things will make him happy," she says, giving his hand a grateful squeeze.

"All this is more than I could have ever fathomed. It's more than I frankly deserve. But I just needed to tell you. Because it's you."

"Because I'm me, huh?" Danny echoes, but there's a delighted grin on his face as he pours the tea for them -- decaf, since he doesn't want to give the baby a speedy growth. "Who would've thought when I dispatched you to sneak on Steve for me that we were starting a friendship this deep?"

"The Jersey cop and the stripper," she snorts, kicking lightly at his leg. "Yeah, you're pretty much stuck with me, now. I kind of like you. Plus, I'm impressed I haven't heard even one I told you so, yet."