"Well, look who's finally back from vacation," Raylan greeted, leaning back in his desk chair with a smirk.

Tim had just walked into the office, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and his rifle case on the other. Raylan thought it was pretty apropos to Tim's character that the latter was the bigger of the two. The former was damn small, even considering Tim had only been gone three or four days.

He'd been back in Ohio again, covering for their absent sniper. Story was the guy had retired dead in the middle of one of the biggest drug crack-downs in years. Tim was the closest guy they could get, so he'd been shuttling back and forth between Lexington and Cincinnati for the better part of the month.

Frankly, it annoyed the hell out of Raylan. He remembered what happened the first time Tim went up there; he remembered all the bruises and scrapes he'd had that night, and just because they were healed up didn't mean that they didn't give Raylan something to think about. And besides that, he was only a man and his lover had been practically unavailable for weeks. It was only fair he got to be a little indignant, wasn't it?

Maybe. Tim definitely had it fair and square; he was the one being passed around like a favorite toy on the playground. And it was a sure sign of just how ridiculous the whole thing was that even Tim, who always went along for the ride even if the job sucked, was getting fed up with it.

Raylan waited until his lover had dropped his stuff by his desk and flopped onto the chair to continue. "You have fun playing house up North?"

"A blast," Tim muttered dryly, rubbing his face. When he took his hands away, his cheeks and eyes were red.

Raylan had half a mind to laugh and half a mind to ask Tim when was the last time he slept. He looked wiped out, but then, it was morning, so pretty much everyone looked wiped out. Except the morning people, but Raylan wasn't entirely convinced they were human, so he didn't count them.

"Well, I'm sure the citizens of Ohio thank you for your contribution to the safety of their streets."

Tim gave an unintelligible grunt and laid his head on the desk.

Damn, he really was tired.

Raylan was just about to suggest the guy go get some coffee or, God forbid, actually take one of those twenty thousand paid time off days he was hoarding. Really, Tim would've been the envy of the office for that number of days, only everybody that knew the guy already knew that he wasn't going to take hardly any of them.

Before he could say anything, though, Tim sat up, gave his eyes one last rub, and reached across his desk to turn on this computer. Time to get back to work, then.

A few hours later, Rachel came up to Raylan's desk. From the way she leaned in, he got the impression this was meant to be a candid sort of conversation.

He leaned in as well. "There a problem?" he asked.

"I was hoping you could tell me," Rachel replied. At first, Raylan was confused, but then her eyes flicked over to Tim's desk where the younger man sat poring over some paperwork that made Raylan's hand hurt just thinking about it. Now that they wree both on the same page… "Is he okay?"

Raylan shrugged. "You're asking me?"

"No, I'm asking the angel on your shoulder. God knows the thing doesn't get heard very often."

"Hey, now, that's not—"

"Yes, Raylan, I'm asking you."

"And just what makes you think I'd know?"

Raylan knew when he saw the hand go to the hip that he was in for a tongue lashing.

"Boy, do you really think I'm that stupid?" She took a deep – and, Raylan hoped, calming – breath and continued. "Look, let's just go on the assumption that I know exactly what's going on between the two of you and I'm completely cool with it. With that out of the way, would you care to answer my question?"

Raylan's brows knotted. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about Rachel's saying she knew what was going on. But, hell, she'd have figured it out eventually. What really got him was someone else saying what he'd been worrying about all morning. He'd been keeping an eye on Tim since he got in. He'd started off thinking he was tired, but he was starting to wonder if maybe it wasn't a little more worrying than that.

Tim had been working non-stop since he got in. Aside from a trip to the locker room to stash his stuff and a few trips to the can, he hadn't even left his desk. When he had left his desk, Raylan had seen him trudge from one place to the next rather than the usual offhand saunter that tended to move his step. He walked slowly, carefully, and Raylan had watched him trip over absolutely nothing at all.

"I asked him," Rachel continued. "He told me he was fine, but something tells me that's the same thing he'd say if he'd been shot to hell and was dying in my arms, so I thought I'd ask you."

Raylan nodded. "Sounds about right. Told me he was just tired."

"Maybe he is," Rachel said. "He probably is tired. I just wanted to check and see if that was all it was."

"Yeah, I understand. Help me keep an eye on him, then?"

"Keep an eye on who?"

Both Raylan and Rachel turned to see Tim leaning against the cubicle wall. He had his arms folded across his chest and a sort of amused-slash-expectant look on his face. The dark lines around his bright blue eyes kind of dampened the effect.

Raylan ignored the question in favor of one of his own. "Feeling any better?"

"More or less," Tim replied.

At the skeptical raise of Raylan's brow, Tim rubbed the back of his neck. "Probably less," he admitted. "Almost done here, though. Thought I'd get through this brief and take the rest of the day off."

It might've sounded casual enough, but Raylan knew better. Like he'd said: Tim Gutterson just didn't do sick days. For him to throw in the towel meant he had to be feeling pretty damn miserable.

"Want a ride?"

He didn't miss the look Rachel shot his way, but he chose to ignore it.

Tim shook his head, anyway. "I reckon I can make it in one piece," he said.

"You reckon? That's reassuring," Raylan muttered.

"I do try."

"Awful mouthy for someone claiming not to feel so hot. Those fellas up in Ohio teach you that?"

Tim smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Raylan opened his mouth to retort, but Rachel beat him to it. "I hate to spoil you boys' fun, but I seem to recall a certain meeting we're supposed to be going to…" she checked her watch, "…three minutes ago."

With that, she started for the conference room.

Tim and Raylan shared a look.

"I saw that," Rachel called over her shoulder.

Both men smiled, and Raylan gestured for Tim to go ahead of him.

Raylan started to fall into step behind him, but then something caught his eyes. His smile faltered. Maybe he was imagining it. Paranoia.

But damn, he could've sworn Tim was limping.