DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! A/N: Been a fan of Justified since the pilot. The plot just kinda came to me and I felt compelled to write it. Please read and review.
Deputy U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens tugged at the collar of his stiff new black button-down shirt with the U.S. Marshals logo embroidered on the chest with silver thread. It was too damn hot in this hall. He racked his brain, trying to figure out what he had done to piss Art off enough to earn this punishment. The Marshal Service had asked the Eastern Kentucky field office to set up an information/recruiting booth at a local university's career day and provide a Marshal to answer any questions the students might have.
For some reason, Art had decided that Raylan would make the perfect representative. Raylan thought Tim would've been a better choice, since he was young enough to remember what training had been like, or Rachel to appeal to the feminists. But Art had insisted on Raylan going to the career fair in hopes of salvaging Raylan's reputation, which had been tarnished by the shooting in Miami, however justified it was.
So Raylan had been at the university since 8:00 that morning, sitting on a hard plastic chair in front of a table that was laden with logo pens, magnets, keychains, and brochures about the U.S. Marshals. He tried to convince himself that there were worse things he could being doing with his time, but found it nearly impossible. He looked dully at the crowds of students milling around the tables in the conference room. A large majority were clustered around the booths for Louisville Police, smaller county and city police departments, various fire departments and ambulance services, and the Kentucky State Police.
He hadn't had very many people stop by the booth. The few who did had balked at the idea of having to leave Kentucky for training and the high possibility of being assigned to work in another state; they seemed to dread, even fear, the possibility of ever leaving Kentucky. Of course, their lack of interest in the Marshals didn't stop them from filling their pockets with the free stuff.
Raylan felt a dull ache in his back, which he knew was a result of the damn chair. He stood up to stretch, wincing and groaning slightly as something in his back popped. He rolled his stiff shoulders and neck. Under the guise of adjusting his cowboy hat, Raylan sneaked a glance at his watch. 11:30. Just half an hour left until he could take a well-deserved break and head to the cafeteria downstairs. He couldn't believe his belly was growling like a wildcat just from sitting in a chair all morning and doing nothing.
When Raylan looked away from his watch, he saw a female student in front of the table, poring over the brochure. The girl was short for a college student and probably weighed about 100 pounds at most. The girl had thick honey-colored hair that fell to her shoulders, cut into layers with long bangs swept across the left side of her forehead. She continually brushed her bangs out of her blue eyes as she read, biting her lip in concentration. She was dressed in denim shorts and a light-green polo shirt. She must have sensed Raylan's presence because she abruptly looked up from the brochure.
"How are ya, ma'am?" said Raylan, tipping his cowboy hat.
"Fine, thanks," the girl replied with a friendly smile. Raylan detected no Southern accent and figured she must be from out of state.
"I'm Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens," he introduced. "I work with the Eastern Kentucky field office."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Angela." She offered her right hand and Raylan shook it.
"So what's your major?" It was a stupid, obvious question, but one Raylan had been told to ask all the students who stopped by the table.
"Criminal justice," Angela said proudly. "Junior year."
"Where're you from?"
"Kentucky born and bred. I know I don't sound like it, but my parents are Yankees. You sound like you're from around here, though."
"Yes, ma'am," said Raylan, "Harlan County. So are ya thinkin' about a career with the Marshals?"
"Yes, sir." The girl nodded enthusiastically.
"You, uh, you do know the Marshals don't train in Kentucky, don'cha?" he asked. "And that ya can get assigned to an office in any state? Might not see home for a good long time."
To his surprise, the girl's face didn't fall.
"Doesn't bother me," she said. "In fact, that's kinda why I came over here. I'm pretty set on a federal agency 'cause the pay, training, and benefits are better, plus the possibility of relocation. I hope this doesn't offend you or anything, but I really, really wanna get out of Kentucky."
Raylan hadn't expected that response. "This ain't exactly my favorite place either," he told her.
"Don't get me wrong, I love my family to death," Angela went on. "It's just, uh...the mindset a lot of people have, I guess, that Kentucky is so great you should never need to set foot outside it. That narrow-mindedness really bothers me because I love traveling. I always have. I've liked every single place I've been to at least 3 times more than I like Kentucky, so it's hard for me to come home. The last thing I want is to be stuck here for the rest of my life."
Raylan nodded. "I understand what ya mean."
Angela helped herself to a U.S. Marshals pen, then looked back down at the brochure she was holding.
"You got any questions for me?" asked Raylan.
"I do, actually. My biggest concern is the training. I'm afraid that I'm too short and too skinny to make it," said Angela. "You've gone through the training. In your honest opinion, is joining the Marshals out of the question for someone my size?"
She dropped her gaze, anxiously awaiting Raylan's answer.
"Well, ma'am," he said. "I think it ain't the size of the dog in the fight that counts; it's the size of the fight in the dog. Now I ain't sayin' there's a lotta women out there who are Marshals. But if you're stubborn enough, you can get through it."
"Well, I am stubborn," said Angela. "I just refuse to quit, even when I probably should."
"Then you got the perfect disposition for this job." Raylan declared.
Angela smiled. She took her cell phone out of her pocket to check the time. "Well, I gotta head on out pretty soon to meet up with some friends." she sighed.
"Hold on now. Don't be runnin' off yet," said Raylan. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out one of his business cards. "If you got any more questions or anything, here's how to get a hold of me."
"Thanks very much," said Angela, putting the card inside her wallet. "It was nice meeting you, Marshal."
"Nice to meet you too." said Raylan, tipping his hat again. "Hope to see you with one of these someday." He indicated the badge pinned to his shirt.
"Just not here, right?" Angela said with a small laugh.
"Anywhere but, ma'am," Raylan agreed.
THE END