A/N This was originally intended to be a one-shot. After the nice reviews and some gentle prodding by Rachel Wilder and MSBrooklyn, it turns out there may be more to tell. Since I doubt we'll ever see anything remotely like this on the show I decided to give a glimpse into what the next six months or so may be like for my favorite non-couple. Once again, sadly, I don't own Justified or either of these characters...if I did...well...you know. ;-)
He's late. She crosses and uncrosses her legs and glances at her watch. The doctor is running late, too, as usual, so it isn't a problem, but Raylan promised he'd be here and she doesn't know whether to be disappointed, angry, or just unsurprised. Sighing, she tosses the magazine she was thumbing through back on the table and pulls out her phone. She types: Where are you? and hits send just as the door opens and he walks in.
The hat is missing and he's wearing his good black suit. He's loosened the tie and undone the top two buttons of the white shirt. His hair is wind-blown, and the dark circles under his eyes speak to a lack of sleep. Still he's undeniably handsome, and the little flutter her heart gives when she sees him reminds her that no matter what she tells him and herself, things will never really be over between them. She cocks her head at the unexpected wardrobe choice and then it hits her. He's been at the funeral for the trooper; the one Arlo shot. He sinks into the chair beside her. "Sorry I'm late."
She lays a hand on his arm. "Why didn't you tell me the funeral was today?"
"I wanted to be here." He shrugs.
"I could've changed the appointment."
He stares at her as if the idea never occurred to him. "You'da done that?"
"I asked you to come," she says. "I wanted you here, so yes, if you'd told me, I could've made it another day." She smiles. "It's not like my schedule is that full." She takes her hand off his arm and fiddles with the straps of her purse. "Are you okay?"
He looks away, out the window at the fading afternoon sunshine. Before he can answer, the nurse calls her name. "Winona Givens?"
Raylan's head whips around, one eyebrow raised in question.
She feels her face flush. "I should've asked you...it's just with Gary being...dead...and..." She drops her head. "...it'll be the baby's name. After what he did...I didn't want to be a Hawkins anymore. But if you don't want me using it I understand. I can go back to my maiden name."
"It's fine."
In the exam room the nurse takes her pulse and blood pressure, asks a few questions about how she's feeling, then leaves to let her undress. She feels awkward and embarrassed. Raylan smiles and dips his head in that way he has. "Go ahead, I won't look. Promise." He holds up two fingers, like a Boy Scout pledge, and she laughs. She takes off her blouse and skirt, laying them over the chair, and slips into the gown, leaving it open in the front. She hops on the table, swinging her feet. Raylan sits in the chair next to her and stretches those long legs out in front of him.
"Long day?"
"The longest." He sighs.
She knows that on some level he feels responsible for Tom Bergan's death. She wants to tell him he's not. She wants to tell him that's ridiculous. She wants to tell him that what Arlo did had nothing to do with him, but she knows he wouldn't believe her, and anyway, after what he's told her, she's not even sure it's true. "I'm glad you're here." It must be the right thing to say, because she gets a shadow of a smile in answer.
"Me, too."
His mind drifts as they wait for the doctor. They never were real good at small talk, but right now he wishes to God Winona would prattle on about something...anything to distract him from the pictures in his head. Tom Bergan's widow, face tight with grief, clutching the folded flag to her chest. An older couple he assumes were the trooper's parents, arms around each other, the woman sobbing quietly. The blank confused look on the faces of the two kids as they stared at their father's coffin.
Raylan stood next to Art and Rachel, felt two pairs of eyes on him as the graveside service played out. When he flinched at the rifle salute, Rachel looked up at him, concern etched on her face. But it was Art who came back for him when he stayed too long, staring at the hole in the ground that held his friend and fellow officer. It was Art who led him back to the car and reminded him of this appointment. He'd been grateful for the excuse not to go back to the Bergan house with the rest of them.
He's immensely relieved when the doctor finally interrupts his thoughts, coming in pushing the sonogram cart and apologizing for their wait. Warm and effiecient, she greets Winona, and shoots him a smile. "Well, let's see how this baby is doing."
Winona's nervous. He can tell. He's not sure if it's the procedure, which seems about the same as last time to him, or this uneasy truce between them. He watches her face as the doctor moves the wand across the round swell of her belly.
"Do you want to know the sex?" The doctor asks.
Winona slides her eyes to his. "It's up to you."
He's surprised enough to stare at her for a minute. They haven't talked about this. He throws the question back at her. "Do you want to know?"
When Winona doesn't immediately answer, the doctor jumps in. "Most people these days like to find out," she says. "But, some still want it to be a surprise."
"I've never been much for surprises," Raylan says.
Winona laughs. "I guess you'd better tell us then." In another unexpected move, she reaches for his hand, linking her fingers though his.
The doctor smiles and points to the screen. "Well, this baby is a boy and he looks just about perfect."
He feels Winona's eyes on him and squeezes her hand. He can't look at her right now. One look at his face and she'll know he's scared shitless. It's a boy. He's going to have a son. How in the hell is he going to do this? He'd convinced himself if it was a girl, he could handle a girl. He got along well enough with Loretta...and Art raised two girls, so he'd be handing out advice whether Raylan asked for it or not. But a boy? Shit.
The doctor pushes a button and the printer on the other side of the room comes to life.
Winona squints at the screen. "Could you print two pictures?"
"Sure, no problem." The doctor smiles. "Sending one to the grandparents?"
"Um, yes," she says. She shoots Raylan a look, and he manages to keep his face blank.
The doctor hands the pictures to Winona. "I want to watch your blood pressure. It's a little elevated. Come in next week to have it checked, okay? The nurse can do it. You don't need an appointment."
"Should I be worried?"
"Not at this point. Besides," the doctor puts a hand on her shoulder and smiles. "...worrying can elevate your blood pressure. Let's just check it in a week and see."
In the parking lot they both hesitate, standing by her car. She shifts from one foot to the other and pulls the sweater tighter around her, hugging her arms to her chest. "So, it's a boy." She says, soft. "Are you happy?"
He keeps his head down, one hand on his hip. "The doc says he's doin' good, so that's the important thing."
"We could talk about names now. I mean...not now...today but...sometime...if you want."
A half-grin slides across his mouth. "Does this mean you've decided against Jiffy Pop?"
She smiles remembering their conversation. "Seeing him, I just don't think it fits."
He tugs the tie off and stuffs it in his pocket. "Maybe...next week when you come to check in with the doc...we could have lunch." He looks up, his eyes meeting hers.
There's something broken, and yet so hopeful in his words that her eyes fill and she looks away, hoping he didn't see but knowing he sees everything. She clears her throat. "That sounds good. Let's do that."
He steps closer and for a moment she wonders if he's going to hug her, but he just lays one broad hand on the belly. "Thanks," he says. "Give me a call."
"I will."
He hesitates, his hand still resting on their child, and when he speaks, his voice is so low and quiet she almost misses the words. "What kind of father can I possibly be?" He says. "All things considered."
Winona covers his hand with her own. "All things considered, I think you'll do just fine."
"I hope you're right."
"I am. I know it." He meets her eyes again, and this time she manages to hold his gaze.