Disclaimer: I do not own Justified…to bad.

Summary: Set Season 3. Episode 10, Guy Walks into a Bar. AU: Quarles confronts Raylan in the bar. Everyone leaves, except Quarles isn't ready to kill Raylan yet. When Tim comes in acting as back-up for Raylan, he catches Quarles eye. Slash Raylan/Tim pre-existing relationship

"At least you got to shoot your father. Mine had the nerve to die before I got back from Basic with skills and a loaded weapon." –Tim Gutterson

AT THE BAR:

Raylan and Quarles stand in front of each other, the gentle hum of the bar the only sound around them. Quarles grins, tucking his hands in his pockets.

"I'm gonna kill you Raylan. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but some day you'll be walking down the street and I'm gonna put a bullet right in the back of your skull and you're gonna drop."

Quarles turns to leave, Duffy a few steps ahead of him. They make it to the door before a gunshot rings through the bar. Raylan starts to lower his gun, fishing his badge out of his pocket.

"US Marshall. I want everyone outta the building, right now!"

Quarles laughs as the patrons rush out of the bar. When the last one leaves he turns to face Raylan fully. Duffy watches on warily. Quarles gives Raylan an inquisitive look, to which the brunette smirks.

"Why wait?"

Quarles takes a small step forward, interest causing the corner of his mouth to twitch. Duffy turns to face his boss, still keeping an eye on the Deputy.

"You've had your fun. Now let's go."

Duffy has his hand on the door, back fully turned. Quarles ignores his "advice" and walks towards Raylan a few more steps.

"I'm not going anywhere and neither are you. So how long do you think it'll take the cops to get here?"

Raylan shrugs, small smirk playing at his lips as if he were amused. Duffy moves away from the door, nervously shoving his hands in his pockets.

"They may not even come. I showed 'em my badge."

Duffy stands silently behind Quarles, watching with slight apprehension as the Marshal and his boss stare each other down. He knew Quarles was unraveling, he could see it in the tense set of his shoulders. After the trigger-happy teen had burst into their trailer earlier that evening and Quarles had told him and the kid, in a vague way, what his father had done to him...well, Duffy was nervous to be anywhere near the man. The bar was empty and if things continued to escalate this quickly, Duffy was leaving with or without his boss. The man would be dead anyway; no-one beat Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens in a gun fight. Then the door opened behind Quarles and Duffy. Quarles didn't turn until Duffy let out a sharp hiss as the cold barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his neck.

"Jee Raylan, can't even have a night off at your own bar."

"Your late, Tim."

"I'd say I'm right on time."

Quarles turned to look at the man, Tim, whose gun was now pressed to his lackey's throat. His face was smooth, young and very handsome. It was all high cheekbones and angular jaw. Quarles blinked slowly, thinking of the pale comparison of a teen that was locked in his hotel room. He turned completely away from Raylan and walked toward the door, pausing by Duffy's side. He looked at Tim, offering him a wide grin. Then he opened the door, calling for Duffy over his shoulder as he left the room.

Tim removed the barrel from the man's neck, using his gun to gesture to the door. Duffy walked out, the door slamming shut behind him. Tim turned to Raylan, raising a brow at the hole in the ceiling.

"I hope you're gonna take care of that."

"Nothing a rug won't fix."

Tim smirked, tucking his gun into its holster and walking towards Raylan. The taller man wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him flush against his body. Raylan lowered his head, capturing the sniper's mouth in a searing kiss, tongues wrapping around each other in their intensity. When they finally pulled away, Tim had moved one hand to slip into Raylan's jean pocket, thumb rubbing small circles onto his denim-clad ass. Raylan gave the man a gentle smile.

"Looks like I have the night off. Wanna go rug shopping?"

Tim grinned, leaning close so his breath ghosted over Raylan's lips.

"I don't think so."

Before Raylan could tighten his grip, the brunette had twisted out of his arms and was sprinting up the stairs to the elder's flat. Raylan chuckled, removing his gun and badge as he followed his lover up the stairs. The rug could wait until tomorrow.

THE NEXT MORNING:

Tim woke slowly, burrowing into the warmth behind him. He lay in the comfortable embrace for over ten minutes, eventually removing himself from the reassuring cocoon of his lover's arms. It was only 6AM, too early for Raylan to even think of getting up. They didn't have to be in to the office until noon today. That gave Tim time to go on a run and hop in the shower before waking Raylan for breakfast and maybe another shower, if the older Marshall was up to it.

Tim snickered as he laced his running shoes, knowing Raylan would be offended if he had threatened the man's libido aloud. Of course, the only time Tim had mentioned it led to a weekend's worth of amazing, mind-blowing sex. On the other hand, maybe Tim would mention it this weekend. The brunette carefully covered Raylan with the blanket they'd kicked to the floor the night before; he would get cold now that he wasn't sharing Tim's body heat.

The brunette quietly left the flat, jogging down the stairs and leaving using the back door. He set off at a light jog, breathing deeply as the icy air filled his lungs. Tim lost himself to the sensations of running, falling into a trance in which the only sound was the steady thrum of his shoes hitting the pavement. The sun was just peeking over the horizon as he turned to head back to Raylan's; images of a nice breakfast with his lover making him speed up slightly.

He was pulled back to reality when a sharp pain knocked him over. Tim blinked rapidly, looking up from his position on the ground at the headlights of a black Sudan. Did I just get hit by a car? Tim reached with one hand to rub his forehead, wincing when he pulled his hand away sticky and coated in blood. The driver of the car jumped out of the vehicle, steady footsteps approaching him quickly.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine tha-"

Tim looked to the driver, surprise and suspicion curling in his stomach. He thought he had recognized the voice. Quarles was looking down at him; hand on his shoulder as though he were swaying. There was a sharp pain and then...why is everything blurry? Tim stared up at the blonde man, trying to speak and finding he couldn't. His body felt entirely too heavy and the only thing that kept him from collapsing onto the pavement was Quarles gently scooping him up in his arms and carrying him to his car. I'm going to ride in the car that hit me. Huh, ironic. Tim groaned as his head lolled, resting on the cool glass of the passenger window.

"Don't worry. The effects should wear off in a few hours. For now…sleep."

Tim, despite his best intentions, quickly faded into the darkness, his body feeling numb and nonexistent as he dived into unconsciousness.

WHEN TIM WAKES UP:

Tim groaned as he woke, a headache steadily pounding behind his eyes. He was aware enough to realize he was wearing only his boxers and Raylan's wife-beater, which he had on under his running hoodie. Everything seemed sluggish and Tim winced as he forced himself to become more aware, to work through the headache and the cold and the general haziness that seemed to surround him. When he did, he instantly regretted it.

It was much colder now that he was aware. His whole body ached and Tim shifted, realizing that he may have broken a rib when the car hit him as his breath was stolen from him. He was obviously in a bathroom, a nice one. The shower he was in was one of the walk-in types, spacious and very clean. Tim's wrists were tied to the washcloth rack, tightly bound by zip-ties. They were already digging into his skin. The door to the bathroom opened and Tim looked toward the shower door.

He could see the outline of a man, whom he assumed was Quarles. His assumption proved true as the door to the shower opened to reveal one ignorant asshole. Tim narrowed his eyes, ignoring the increasing headache squinting caused him. Quarles was wearing his dress slacks and an unbuttoned white dress shirt. He was shoeless and looked rumpled, as though he had just rolled out of bed. The man smiled, his blue eyes sharp and piercing.

"I'm glad to see you awake. I was worried I gave you too much."

"To much of what?"

The blonde chuckled, waggling his finger as he moved into the shower.

"Ah-ah. That's for me to know."

The man kneeled beside Tim, watching him silently for a moment before running a hand through his hair. Tim tried to scoot farther away but was forced to stop at the sharp pain his ribs caused him. Quarles seemed to ignore both the movement and the wince, merely staring at Tim. The man reached out, trailing his finger over Tim's top lip. He gave a sharp yelp when Tim managed to bite down on the obtrusive finger, drawing blood. Quarles pulled a tie out of his pocket and quickly gagged the blue-eyed Marshall. Then he wrapped his finger in the corner of his shirt, watching Tim as he waited for the bleeding to stop. He opened his mouth and Tim almost rolled his eyes; he could almost smell the monologue that was about to come.

"I usually go for early twenties. They're more lost than the older ones; the ones that had time to shove it into the back of their heads and forget about it. But you…I'll make an exception. You're just as lost as I was…I can set you free."

Tim twisted his head away from Quarles hand, remaining silent behind the gag. The blonde frowned, reaching out quickly and grasping Tim's chin, tightening his grip and twisting the Marshall's head so he could see the dark blue eyes glaring up at him. Quarles used his free hand to gently run through Tim's hair, pushing it out of his face.

"I can't save you unless you let me."

Tim's eyes narrowed but he didn't try to move his head; his jaw was already aching from the tight grip of the man in front of him. The blonde hummed under his breath and moved away from the man on the floor. He stared down at the Marshall quietly, thinking to himself.

"I think…all you need…is to remember why you need saving."

Quarles grinned, squatting down in front of Tim, his feet on either side of the brunette's thighs.

"You've locked him up real tight, your father…all we need to do is let him out. Then…"

Gentle fingers ran down the side of Tim's face, stroking his cheek.

"…then I can save you."

WITH RAYLAN:

It hadn't taken Raylan long to realize something was wrong. He and Tim had been going strong for almost a year now and for nine of those months Tim had spent the night at his place or he at Tim's. And every morning, rain or shine, Tim would go on a run around 6AM and be back by 7AM. Raylan knew he got back at 7 because he always woke Raylan up freshly showered and with a cup of coffee. So when Tim is still gone at 8:30AM, Raylan feels like it's reasonable for him to worry a bit more than he was when he woke up on his own.

After finding Tim's running shoes gone and his gun, badge, and phone still on their bedside table, Raylan dresses hurriedly. Even though he and Tim weren't due at the office until noon (Another reason Raylan knows something is wrong; Tim loved having a frisk in the shower before work.) Raylan was in Art's office by 9:30AM. Rachel is at her desk but when the older man rushes past without a hello and without Tim trailing behind him, the woman is up and in Art's office in less than a minute.

Art agrees the behavior is odd, extremely odd. Still, he makes Raylan wait until noon to start officially searching. Rachel says she's making a coffee run and Art, I'm taking Raylan so he'll actually pay this time. Within an hour the two deputies are walking Tim's running path. At this point, Raylan is glad for the man's predictability and the one time he managed to drag Raylan on a run with him. They find nothing. Rachel's gone to get the car and Raylan is sitting on a bench, staring at the road dejectedly.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Raylan raises his head to see a cute little blonde standing in front of him, wearing a jogging suit.

"Can I help you miss?"

The blonde runs her tongue over her lips, shifting her weight from one leg to the other nervously.

"I was just wondering if you were checking up on the accident this morning. You are a cop, right?"

Raylan straightened in his seat, brow furrowing as he pulled out his badge, flipping it open for the girl to see as he stood.

"US Deputy Marshall Raylan Givens. What accident, ma'am?"

"Call me Sherry. Um, there was an accident around 6:50 this morning…I saw it as I was starting my run."

"Where?"

"Um, just around that corner. A man was running across the crosswalk and this car came out of nowhere and hit him dead on!"

Raylan tipped his hat backward, using his thumb to scratch at his forehead before settling his hat comfortably on his head. The girl, Sherry, bite her lip.

"I, um, I offered the driver help, said I'd call 911. But the man said it was fine and put the runner in his car, said he was going to drive him to the hospital, least he could do and all."

"Can you describe the runner?"

"Well, his face was really bloody but he was wearing this dark green hoodie, had Army stamped across it in white block letters. He had like, brown hair? But it was kind of on the fair side."

Definitely Tim. Raylan had never been so happy that Tim wore the same hoodie for every run.

"How 'bout the driver? And the car? Can you tell me anything about them?"

"Sure. The car was a black Sudan. I didn't see the plates or anything."

She seemed really upset, so Raylan gave her the best reassuring smile he could manage.

"It's alright. How 'bout the driver?"

"Oh, he was wearing this really nice suit and had blond hair that was kinda white…bluest eyes I've ever seen. He reminded me of an albino, to be honest."

Sherry blushed, scratching the back of her head.

"Usually I wouldn't say that, my mama raised me to be respectful."

"It's alright. I'm sure your mama would be proud of you helping me out on my case."

Sherry frowned.

"So the guy isn't okay? I mean, did he make it to the hospital?"

Raylan shook his head, beginning to walk towards Rachel, who had just pulled up.

"Thank you for your help Miss. Sherry!"

"I live in house 5479, if you need to contact me!"

Raylan tipped his hat to the blond and climbed in the car. He ran a hand over his face and turned to Rachel. The woman raised a brow.

"Well?"

"Quarles has Tim."

Rachel blinked.

"Shit."

END OF CHAPTER:

What do you think so far? I can't do accents worth shit, sorry about that.

Review please?

Eris-R-Renee