Laramie, Wyoming, January 1985.
"These ain't doughboys out a the can, an they ain't Edna's neither," Ennis said, looking accusingly at the buttery tops of the biscuits sitting on the plate in front of him.
"I was sort a hopin for a kiss instead a quiz about what bakery I gone to, sweetheart," Ellery frowned, setting down the box. "Ya want me ta go back out an come back in an we can do this again?"
"What's got inta you, boy?" Ennis took a step closer, a quick hand snatching at the narrow elbow still buried in the black leather coat, the oiled fabric creaking beneath his insistent fingers.
"I just wanted ta.. .get home early for once, drive the speed limit, be reliable, do somethin nice for ya after all a what we been through, ya know, new year's resolutions n' all."
"Wes give you a talkin to about yer drivin again?" His other hand was on Ellery's shoulder, prying the leather away from it as if to get underneath to the secret behind the strangely earnest expression.
“Fuck no, do I need Wes ta be my conscience all the damn time?”
“Well don’t ya? Yer a caution, I already know that, I always thought a man a the law was … well..”
“What?” a flash of a grin twisted the edge of his mouth up. “Obedient?”
“Obedient you ain’t, darlin.”
“You like that about me don’t ya?” It was Ellery’s turn to reach out and run his fingers along the thick chamois shirt, a gift from Edna and Wes for Christmas, and Ennis shivered, tugging him closer.
“You bet.”
