Well, it had been worth a shot. True, his wide-eyed pleading didn't work on Marshal Darrow and he damn well knew it but she could hardly blame a guy for trying, could she? He grinned sheepishly, one arm slightly extended as she surveyed the state of his clothes, giving a little shrug that said what can you do? and followed her toward the infirmary.
"Fix my -- oh!" he exclaimed, as if he hadn't noticed the misbuttoning (he hadn't) and he quickly thumbed the buttons open to rework them, not minding as the cold wind whooshed against his skin. He puckered all over with goosebumps and shook his shoulders back heartily when he'd finished the task, half wishing he'd brought his coat. "Sorry 'bout that I was, uh." Another grin, this one a little less sheep and a little more wolf. "Detained. You know how it is," he lolled his head to the side. "You get a little distracted, one thing leads to another and... suddenly you're missing curfew."
He seemed at ease in all of this, and in a way he was. It wasn't like this would be the first time he'd ever gotten picked up by the Marshal, and at least the cells in jail were warm and dry, if a mite uncomfortable. It was really the fine that he was worried about, especially considering how far away payday was. If he was lucky, she'd skip the fine and just make him (or... someone) pay the usual five silver to bail him out, but that was looking increasingly less likely. "So, uh," he said, half-stumbling up beside her. "How much's this little... miscalculation... gonna run me?"