This is the first in what I hope will be a series of tags for each episode of Justified, starting with Season 1, Episode 1. Up til now I've mostly written fanfic for the TV show Bones, so pardon my dust as I play around a bit with these tags. I have an idea for a multi-chap but I want to make sure I get the right "voice" for Justified fanfic before I start it.
Thanks for reading!
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The more things change, the more shit stays the same.
One step into the airport in Louisville, Kentucky and everything Raylan had spent the last twenty years trying to put behind him came rushing back. Gone were the pasty complexions of tourists just arriving in Miami, along with the peeling sunburns of people heading home while the preponderance of casually mismatched vacation clothes and bare feet stuck into sandals had become a rush of business suits and blue jeans crowded together into a terminal less than half the size of Miami International. The sounds were different, too, as the heavy Southern drawl of Kentucky replaced the Cuban flavor of the accents he'd left behind.
More than one interested gaze followed the buff-colored Stetson as Raylan approached the Hertz counter but he ignored them all. Disgruntled and not bothering to hide it, he pulled out his wallet and removed the driver's license and credit card the clerk requested. He was back in Kentucky, a place he thought he had left for good.
Dammit.
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He didn't need the rental car's on-board GPS to find the courthouse in Lexington so it was a short 90 minutes later that found him pushing open the glass-fronted doors to the US Marshal's suite. As Art stepped out of his office smiling, hand outstretched in welcome, Tim Gutterson looked on with interest.
"New guy?" He glanced at Rachel.
"Raylan Givens," she answered without taking her attention from the paperwork she was filling out. "He's coming from the Miami office."
Tim pushed back in his chair, his eyes on the two men in Art's office. "He get tired of looking at women in bikinis?"
"Word is," Rachel punched the stapler through the forms, "coming here wasn't his choice. Had himself an old-fashioned High Noon kind of shoot-out in public and got sent here as punishment."
Tim gave one bark of skeptical laughter as Raylan and Art stepped into the main room. "Well, this ought to be fun."
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Thanks for letting me play in the Elmore Leonard/Graham Yost sandbox. :-)