psl: for Raylan (tinstar)

The time between finding a Marshal--and a dead body--outside her door, and now, when she was sitting at her desk at work with said Marshal on the couch across the room had not been long. Only a few days all told, and now she had a security presence with her twenty-four hours of the day.

Raylan had told her it would be things like him opening doors before she went through them, checking her food before she ate, simple things. And she'd been able to deal with that fairly well...until she had a dinner meeting. Raylan could (and she suspected would) come with her, though she'd forewarned him the company was likely to be boring or aggressively unpleasant. Or both.

"I need to change before dinner," she murmured, pushing back from her desk and turning towards the tiny coat closet in which she'd stashed a dress in a clothing bag earlier that morning. And quirked a tiny smile. "You're not required to wear a dress, though it might make an impression."