The dark-haired social worker slips into the kitchen, chewing on her lip thoughtfully as she surveys the damage done to Leslie's kitchen. Ethel and Leslie have moved to a small living room, and are pouring over catalogs, discussing ideas for Ethel's house, and with a few wives and girlfriends discussing their lives on the back deck; Melissa has the kitchen to herself. Ignoring Leslie's words of not cleaning up, Melissa tucks her long hair behind her ears, and starts to load the dishwasher.
"Don't break his heart Melissa", Raylan strolls into the kitchen, sitting on a chair and stretching his long legs out in front of him; with his hat off, he looks less imposing, more relaxed. But ever watchful, as his brown eyed gaze takes in Melissa, now barefoot, as she cleans the kitchen. His respect for her increases, few women would take on the job of cleaning up. The women invited did not, even Winona had stayed out on the back deck, the last time she had come to one of the Mullen's get-togethers. Further proof, Raylan realized, that Melissa was different, from what he was used to, and he knew she was different from what Tim was used to.
She can feel the blush heating her cheeks, as she rinses each plate before sitting it in the dishwasher, "I wasn't aware I had his heart Raylan."
"I'm not sure if you do or not. But when you get it, don't break it", his chin lifts as he nods towards the doors out of the kitchen, where the guys are yelling at the tv over a blown call, "He may be a smart-ass, and he might annoy me some days… but I don't want to see him get hurt."
"Raylan, I never hurt anyone. I'm always the girl that gets hurt", Melissa smiles despite her words, seeing the bond of friendship, of understanding, between Raylan and Tim, "And I get it. You have to look out for each other. You're the same side of the coin you know."
"I didn't take you to be so perceptive" Raylan's gaze focuses back on Melissa, drawn away from his thoughts, and he appraises her once more.
"I have to be, it's part of my job. And I have two big brothers, I get how it is" She tosses a towel to him, and motions to the table behind him. "If you're gonna give me the speech, make yourself useful."
One eyebrow rises at her words, before Raylan pushes himself to his feet, and starts to wipe down the table, "Two brothers?"
"Yep. I'm the baby" The last dish loaded into the machine, Melissa fills it with detergent, and turns it on, before opening the fridge, and sliding the containers of left-overs in it.
"Why Tim?" Raylan's chore done, he drops the towel by the sink, and takes his spot back, slouching comfortably in his chair.
Melissa shuts the fridge door, and then leans against it, lifting one shoulder in a shrug, "Why not Tim?"
"I just figured you for the office type. Not a marshal." Raylan shrugs, taking a sip from the beer he had carried in with him.
"No office types. I don't really have a type. Tim is… different. He didn't fall all over himself and try to impress me. He didn't treat me like I was some young little girl on her first day in the office. He's always a smart ass, and I appreciate sarcasm," she grins, pushing away from the fridge and moving to sit in a chair next to Raylan, who turns to face her, "Now, you gonna tell me what you've got going on with Rachel?"
"What?" Raylan blinks, before shaking his head no at her words, "Nothing. I mean, she's a friend, and I work with her, but no. Not like that."
"Raylan, I've seen the looks between the two of you. You need someone like her." Melissa's blue eyes roll heavenwards at his words, and she shakes her head no to him.
"Like her?" Blinking in confusion, Raylan looks over at Melissa, his fingers pushing his beer around in slow circles on kitchen table.
"Yeah, someone to get you out of your own head, someone who isn't all fluff and makeup. Someone who can put up with your particular brand of bullshit, and give it back to you. Someone who understands how high maintenance you are, and can deal with it," Melissa stretches her legs out in front of her, propping her bare feet on the rung of a chair next to her.
"No. Things with Winona are…" he shakes his head at her words, waving them away with one long fingered hand.
Melissa holds up a slim hand, shaking her head no back at him, "Absolutely fucked up. She's not right for you, she never has been. It's time to admit defeat, that war has been lost."
"I always thought I preferred blondes", Raylan mused over his beer while looking at Melissa.
"Maybe it's time to change your preferences. You need Rachel, and not just as a friend." From her spot on a chair, Melissa nods sagely, her fingers curling around her wine glass.
"So now you're tryin' to set me up on a date with her?" Raylan looks at Melissa, then down at his beer, as if wondering how much he has to drink.
"No Raylan. I'm just trying to make you see that you need someone like her, and less like what you've had in the past. Take my advice or don't, that's on you. But you have to admit, you have the worst damn taste in women." One slim shoulder lifts in a shrug as Melissa speaks,
"Touché. Y'know, you curse a lot." He grins at her, before taking another sip of his beer, setting it back down on top of the kitchen table and slouching further in his chair.
Melissa blushes, the color darkening the freckles on her nose, "It gets my point across."
"It does", Raylan nods to her, picking at the label on his beer for a moment, before looking over at her again, "Rachel's married."
"Not for much longer, papers are waiting on signatures", Melissa sips at her wine, studying the polish on her toes as she speaks, frowning as she sees the paint on one toe is chipped, before looking over at Raylan again, "Don't get me wrong, I don't take her marriage falling apart lightly, but I don't think she's been happy for a long time."
"She hasn't", the answer comes from the doorway, where Tim leans against the door frame. His answer gives away how long he has stood there, and his unnoticed presence gives away how good he is at sneaking up on people.
Raylan jumps, glaring at Tim, "You need to wear a bell or something."
"Like a house cat?" Tim smirks at the idea, shaking his head no, one hand holding a bottle of soda, having switched off of beer at dinner.
"So Melissa, I hear you're good at cleaning a gun", Raylan steers the conversation back away from the disaster that is his love life, nodding towards Tim, who still lounges against the door frame, "He was bragging about it."
She grins at his words, one dark eyebrow lifting in question back at Tim, "Oh he was? And yeah, I'm pretty good at shooting one too."
"That may be something one of us finds out this week", Tim pushes off from the door frame, walking almost soundlessly to them, and sits down behind Melissa.
"Think we should take her to the range?" Raylan looks over at Tim, understanding in his gaze.
"Might be a good idea." Tim nods back in agreement, stretching back into the chair until he is comfortable.
"Gentlemen, let me remind you that I'm right here. And my hearing works perfectly fine" She glares at she says it, looking first at Tim and then at Raylan; despite her words, and the glare, she lifts her bare feet, propping them in Tim's lap.
"Melissa, Raylan and I think it might be good for you to go the range this week." For a moment Tim almost pouts at the tone in Melissa's voice, but he grins when her small feet end up in his lap.
"All things considered" Raylan adds with a smirk, seeing Melissa grow testy as they talk about her in front of her, but also seeing how casual she is around Tim, how effortlessly comfortable the dark-haired woman is with Tim. For a moment, Raylan wants that kind of comfortable, something he has never had with a woman, wants the easy relationship that he sees playing out in front of him.
"Still think y'all are blowin this clean out of proportion", Melissa drawls, reaching for her wine glass, and finishing it off.
"When nothing happens on Thursday, you can tell us that. Until then, you're at Tim's" wearing his trademark smirk, Raylan takes a sip of his beer, "And seeing as I flunked biology, according to Tim, I have no idea what you'll be doin' there."
"How much of this am I going to have to put up with at work tomorrow?" She heaves a sigh, rolling her bright gaze at Raylan.
"A lot more." Raylan laughs, taking a sip of his beer, and stretching further out in his chair, "No one has ever seen Tim with a girl. He's never romanced a girl. I find it all rather humorous."
"It'll be worth it though", Tim grins at both of them, the fingers of one hand tracing over the hearts tattooed on the top of Melissa's foot.
"So tell me… Hummingbird?" the older marshal's dark gaze is locked on Tim's hand as it traces over the tattoo on Melissa's foot. Raylan tries to remember if Winona had ever done that, if he had ever had a woman just put her feet in his lap and relax, and it seems the answer is no.
"Ask Tim." Melissa turns scarlet at the question, remembering Tim's reasons for the nickname, and looks over at Tim, her blue eyes bright with embarrassment.
"Her heartbeat is always fast. Reminded me of a hummingbird." Tim lifts one shoulder in a shrug, although his gaze is bright with wicked humor.
"Didn't figure you to be a nickname sorta guy." Raylan shakes his head in disbelief at Tim, shocked by the man that sits before him. Tim is still the same cynical, jaded, smart-assed man he always been, but he has a soft spot for Melissa, and it shows.
"Didn't figure you to have a thing for Rachel", his words reveal how long Tim had listened to their conversation, and that he has thought the same thing, and the barb shakes Raylan out of his disbelief at this new Tim sitting in front of him.
Immediately Raylan is on the defensive, shaking his head no emphatically, too emphatically, at Tim, "I do not have a thing for-"
"Who? That girl from the District Attorney's office?" Rachel slips into the kitchen, breaking the conversation up, only to be stopped in her tracks by Ethel and Leslie, who lean out from the living room, where they have been talking decorating.
"'Scuse us gentlemen, but we need the girls." Leslie gestures to Melissa and then to Rachel, pushing doors to the den further open.
"You'll get her back Tim, I promise" Ethel grins at Melissa, who buries her face in her hands.
"We need a couple more opinions on plans for Ethel's house. Rachel, your place is gorgeous, and Ethel tells me Melissa has a pretty little house too", Leslie smiles at the group in her kitchen. The marshals all feel like family, truth be told they are part of her extended family, and the idea of Tim with someone makes her as happy as the idea of her kids finding someone.
"C'mon Melissa, we're being summoned", Rachel pours herself another glass of wine, and then holds the bottle out to Melissa. With refilled glasses, the girls walk into the living room, leaving Tim and Raylan sitting at the kitchen table.
"I like her Tim. More than I did before." Raylan nods towards the living room, where the girls have retreated to. But his gaze had stayed on Rachel longer than usual, as Melissa's words had started to creep into his mind.
"Thanks.. I appreciate that." Tim relaxes, a barely perceptible thing, but his body somehow leans differently in the chair, as if he had been holding his breath somehow.
"You need someone to pull you out of your bullshit." Raylan nods sagely, looking for all the world like someone who knows what he is doing with a relationship.
Tim snorts, shaking his head at Raylan, "Same goes for you."
"We're not talking about me. We're talking about you. And Melissa." Raylan's dark hair, shot through with hints of gray, that are becoming more noticeable by the day, falls into his golden brown eyes as he shakes his head no.
"Oh?" from over the top of his bottle of soda, Tim looks at Raylan, amusement dancing in his gaze. Watching Raylan refuse to talk about his women troubles, is a never ending source of humor for the former sniper.
"Yep. What's she like?" the older marshal nods, before gesturing to the living room, where Melissa disappeared to.
"She's… smart. Artistic. She gets all soft and sweet when she's tipsy." At first, Tim shrugs one muscled shoulder, before he smiles at the memory of Melissa, tipsy and leaning against his chest in a bubble bath.
"And?" He shifts, moving forward until he can prop his elbows on his knees.
"And what Raylan?" Again, Tim shrugs, still keeping most of himself, and his feelings for Melissa, to himself.
"You like her." But Raylan reads Tim better than anyone else, and has seen the changes in Tim, the quiet, barely noticeable changes, that the younger marshal tries to hide.
"Yeah I did. If I didn't, I wouldn't have her at my house." Tim grins at Raylan, sipping his beer, before Art yells for them from the den, "We're missing the game."
"Didn't you put money on it?" Slowly, Raylan pushes himself up from the table, grabbing his beer and walking out of the kitchen, heading to the den.
"Nah, a free day off." Finishing his soda, Tim tosses the bottle into the trash on his way out of the kitchen, hearing the sounds from the den, the game, yelling at the tv, and the quiet murmur of voices from the living room. His dark gaze strays to the doors, pulled shut, knowing Melissa is inside, and wondering what is going on behind those closed doors.