It wasn't a contest, far as Tim was concerned. They all had their crosses to bear, himself, Raylan, Malcolm, Neal, Doc, Callisto, Athena. The list was long and varied and unique to each of them that survived it.

Tim chuckled softly and bumped his hip against Raylan's. "Except for Art, and he gets a pass because we both know Leslie does the cooking, I expect I have the healthiest kitchen in the office. The only cheese in my ice chest back home is string cheese for stakeouts. You and Doc just keep feeding me here, so I don't have to bother with cooking. I get to be lazy."

No one expected Tim to cook, save for his impromptu grilled cheese and soup night, and he didn't advertise the ability. But if Raylan took a moment to think about it, the younger marshal always had fresh fruit, vegetables or other homemade looking healthy snacks at his desk.