It was a quietly boring Friday afternoon conference. AUSA Vasquez running through the file of one Dante Beauregard, the apparently innocuous anonymous tip that put him in Lexington, and the small matter of one Arnold Pinter, whom Beauregard might or might not want dead.
It was nothing that Raylan, Rachel and Tim had not been through a thousand times before, probably that week. Raylan was fairly certain that Tim was actually dozing, so relaxed was his position in the chair, on the other side of Tim Rachel was feigning interest. He could tell it was feigned, he could almost hear the white noise in her head.
He didn't know what he was feeling. Boredom certainly, worry about money and his lack of it for definite, Winona… well he knew he was flogging a dead horse there. Maintain civility with her now was his cause, be kind and good, but distant. Every time they got together it all went to hell inside of a week. He couldn't be what she wanted, but he wanted to be a father to his child. He loved her, maybe… definitely… but she didn't really want him. He knew he had become a habit, a habit that deep down inside she didn't want or need.
He idly traced a few loops on the pad in front of him, too lazy to be called a doodle, just circles really.
"I'm looking for Raylan Givens."
The voice came from the bullpen. A vague feeling of familiarity stole through Raylan's senses, he pushed back from the table and got to his feet, he could hear voices, but they seemed so far away as he took a step towards the doorway and the young woman framed in it.
She was tall, lean, her short brown hair free from grey unlike his. Her palm cracked across his cheek in a blow that made him stagger "that's for running out on me the day before my birthday…" she howled, and flung herself at him.
Raylan's arms closed around her tightly, hands fisting into handfuls of her shirt as he buried his face in her shoulder. "Jeannie" he choked, and clung harder as he felt her tears wet his shirt.
Tim and Art were on their feet as the strange girl took a hefty swing at Raylan. Then Raylan dragged her into his arms, and it all went slightly hysterical.
Art Mullen had known Raylan Givens for ten years, he was well-aware that Raylan was passionate and temperamental, but this sudden dam burst of raw emotion was a new one. He had never seen Raylan like that before. In the brief glimpse he got of Raylan's face before the man wrapped up in the mystery girl like he was never going to let go, Art had seen the tears running down Raylan's cheeks, and a look in his eyes that was pure joy and devastation.
Tim looked like he wanted to make some kind of move, and was left with nowhere to go when Raylan hauled the girl into his arms like that. Art was just thinking that he should usher everybody out and leave them alone, when Raylan eased back a little.
His face was tear-stained, and his eyes bright, eyelashes sticking together in little clumps, but Raylan didn't even know or care.
"Art… everybody… this is my sister, Raejeanne." If his voice caught on the word sister, and her name was a cracked whisper of pure emotion, nobody noticed. They were all too busy processing the information that Raylan Givens had a sister.