Brandi and Tim walked into the office bright and early to find their coworkers already there. Raylan and Rachel turned to look at the two and there was a very noticeable difference. Tim was bright eyed and bushy tailed. Freshly showered and in a warm, dark purple sweater with a crisp, clean white button up shirt underneath that complimented his fresh shave and a cup of coffee already pumping through his system. Brandi on the other hand look a little raggedy, but a lot better than the day before. Brandi, fully intending to go straight home, only pulled on a very loose tee shirt and a pair of faded, ripped, and worn jeans with a zip up hoodie over it all. Her hair was in a bun that looked like she had slept in it and the bags under her eyes were made worse from the remnants of her makeup from the day before. She looked exhausted and almost seemed to drag herself in.

"Hey, Brandi!" She greeted in her gentle tone and stood from her desk, moving around. Brandi smiled and Rachel gently pulled her in for a hug, careful not to hurt her ribs. "Glad to see you up and moving."

"You saw me yesterday," Brandi giggled and Rachel released her.

"Yes, and you did not look good, girl." Rachel teased her, squeezing her arm. Tim passed the two and practically bounced towards his desk. Brandi envied his energy.

"You gave us all a bit of a scare when you took a dive off that porch." Raylan explained from his desk.

"I'll try not to jump off any more porches." Brandi promised.

"Be nice if you tried not to get shot, too." Tim piped up as he logged on to his computer, his lazy smile on his face.

"That I can't make any promises on." Brandi quipped back. "Anywho, I'm just here for my stuff. I'm gonna get home."

"Hasn't been twenty four hours, yet." Tim reminded her from his desk.

"Yes, very helpful, Tim." She rolled her eyes and Art popped his head out of his office.

"Mornin' Brandi." He greeted with a small smile. "Mind if I have a quick word?" He asked. Brandi hesitated and shifted her feet.

"Why do I feel like I've done something wrong?" She muttered to Rachel under her breath. Rachel just snorted at her and moved back to her desk. "All right, Art, but I got somewhere I need to be, so here's hoping it really is quick." She said as she dropped her bag on her desk and shuffled into his office. Her heart jumped into her throat when he shut the door behind her. Uh oh.

"You're gonna have to cancel your plans." He told her as he walked over to his desk.

"Excuse me?" She asked, confused. "I thought I had to take the week off?"

"Well, you still got some time before your twenty four hours is up, and frankly, we could use you here today, even if it's just light desk work." Art drawled on. Brandi stood there, hands on her hips. "That's why we have Raylan in today, too. He's supposed to be out as well."

"Why do you keep calling him back in?" Brandi asked, humor in her voice. "You know he's just gonna keep getting into trouble."

"He proved quite useful yesterday." Art pointed out, referring to Raylan's assistance in taking in the fugitive. "Besides, he was specially requested today. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." He looked at her, his hands folded in front of him. He looked at her and for a moment, studying the girl before him. He remembered her as the roughed up teen who had a huge chip on her shoulder, scared of everyone and just trying to get by. Art remembered the reports on her and what her mother did to her. The sixteen year old from the past was so different from the woman that stood before him, and it pained him to know he hadn't been able to save her, not really. "Have a seat." He motioned.

"I'll stand." She said politely, "I've been sitting too long. What's on your mind, Art?" Brandi asked quietly. Art took in a deep breath, dreading the storm that was heading his way.

"Brandi, what happened in Virginia?" He asked slowly, feeling her out.

"A lot happened, Art." Brandi huffed. "Wanna be a little more specific?"

"Not particularly, but it's always like pulling teeth with you." He admitted. "Fine, I'll cut to the chase: does your ex-boyfriend know you're here?" Brandi stood there with the question he just dumped on her. Her thoughts ran a million miles a minute and Art could swear he saw smoke coming out of her ears. It took her a few moments before she was even able to formulate a response.

"How did you-" She trailed off, staring at Art in shock. She'd been so careful. Brandi blinked, trying to push back the stinging in her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and she found it hard to speak.

"The nurse told us why youre ribs broke, and she was kind enough to point out the lovely rendition of a boot on your ribs." He laid it all out for her, hoping transparency will get him honest answers.

"Us?" Brandi asked in a whisper as she sat down in one of his office chairs, her stare smiles away. "Who else knows?"

"Just Tim." Art reassured her. Why was it not reassuring? She looked over her shoulder and through the glass. She watched Tim working away at his desk like usual, like nothing was wrong. She turned her head back to Art slowly and she fiddled with the rip on her thigh.

"He doesn't know I'm here." Brandi told him. "At least I don't think so." They two sat in silence for a bit before she whispered out, "I'm sorry."

"What the hell are you apologizin' for?" Art asked.

"After everything you did to get me out of here, I just" She waved her hand and scowled, "threw it all away." Brandi rested her face in her hands for a moment and took a few deep breaths.

"Brandi-" Art spoke but Brandi startled him, snapping her head up, face blank and any trace of whatever she was feeling was gone.

"That's in the past." She said as she stood. She winced a bit as her ribs throbbed painfully. "So, you want me here today?" Brandi asked to confirm and Art had to sit there, trying to recover from the whiplash. "Hope you don't mind I'm not in my Sunday best." She joked with a small smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Last night, Judge Michael Reardon, who we know affectionately as "Mike the Hammer,"" Art spoke as he began drawing on the white board, "was bitten by a poisonous snake about six inches from home plate." He emphasized and drew and "x" where the bite was on the doodled legs. Brandi grimaced in sympathy for the funny judge. She was leaning back in her chair in the conference room, listening to the debriefing with a cup of coffee in her hand. She took a sip and noticed Raylan sitting up with his own cup and flipping through his file in front of him. "The judge is a very color character as we know, he likes to carry a side arm under his robe in case anybody decides to light up the bench." Art droned on. Brandi was startled when she felt someone's hand on the back of her chair and Tim leaned over between her and another agent as he dropped a white bag of letters onto the table.

"Plenty of people would have cause." Tim said with his smirk of amusement in place. "That's hate mail," he explained as he stepped back, folding his arms across his chest. Brandi could hear him behind her and felt her face flushing at how close he had been. Some of his cologne seem to linger and she took a sip of coffee before setting her cup down and reach over for the bag. "He sent it over for review."

"So these are his trophies from the past years?" Raylan asked as he grabbed a stack.

"Let me see some of that." She said quietly and Raylan pushed the bag towards her. She pulled out her own stack and started flipping through, looking at the names and addresses.

"Somethin' like that," Tim answered, "Only that's the last six months." Brandi looked over her shoulder at him.

"This much in six months?" She asked him, stunned.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now look, I want you to cross-reference all the arrest records and the parolees and see if we can't come up with somebody from the backwoods who's used to handling snakes, could've used one for a weapon." Art instructed. Brandi sighed, knowing she'd most likely be the one doing most of the desk work right now. "Nelson, you're gonna take the day detail and Raylan he has specifically requested you for the night." Art announced and Brandi snorted and tried to hide her smile, continuing to flip through the letters, already starting to sort them. Raylan just shot a look her way before looking back at Art.

"My nights are free."

"Not anymore." Art corrected him gently. "All right, let's get to it. Brandi, since you're stuck at your desk, go ahead and get a jump on these letters."

"For the most part, I can tell by name or address if they're our guy." Brandi told him, still sorting the letters. "You want me to still run everything just in case?"

"I'd start with the ones you can sort." He told her. "If we don't find anyone, you can run the names in the extra pile." Brandi nodded and stood to go get her lap top. Everyone started to disperse and Raylan followed her out, wanting to ask her something that had been itching in the back of his head.

"Calhoun," He mused and she hummed in response. "You wouldn't happen to be related to Judith Calhoun, would you?"

"I was wonderin' when you were gonna ask." Brandi gave him a small smile as she grabbed the case holding the department laptop they issued to her. "Why you ask?"

"Growin' up I remember my father dealing with a real mean old lady that owned a ranch a couple hours away in Clays Ferry." Rayland reminisced and Brandi just listened with a smile as she pulled out the laptop and grabbed a notepad and pen. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but if I recall, she would sometimes drag along a scrawny little rag doll of a kid."

"That's me." She smiled at him. "I hated when she would drag me all the way down to Harlan. I feel like I spent more time running around Harlan than Clay's Ferry." Brandi explained. She looked over at Raylan, "No offense."

"None taken." He said with a knowing smile.

"The two hours down she'd be bitchin' about how much she missed it all, how everyone in Clay's Ferry was too nosey and snobby for her taste. And then I'd have to go hang around your place, and for the two hours back she'd be bitchin' about how much she hated Harlan and how she'd never go back." Brandi reminisced. Raylan just gave her a wide, knowing smile. "Liked your mom, though, Ms. Helen? She'd always sneak me a snack or somethin' sweet."

"Aunt." Raylan corrected politely. "Helen is my mother's sister. Married Arlo after she died."

"Oh, sorry." Brandi apologized as some memories suddenly made a lot more sense.

"Eh, it was a long time ago." Raylan said quietly and the two stood there, a little awkwardly. "How's the old ranch?" He broke the silence, trying to make a little small talk. "Take it she didn't take too good care of it."

"I think she started taking inspiration from your daddy." Brandi joked and Raylan cracked another knowing smile. The house was in about as good of shape as it was back then. "I get to spend the next few weekends fixin' up the place. It's a miracle I didn't find mold behind that ugly wallpaper in the kitchen."

"Well, with those ribs, I think your renovating project is gonna have to be put on hold." Raylan told her with a sympathetic smile and nod before he walked away, leaving her to her work. Brandi looked around her desk for her phone and grabbed it.

"Hey, Maura." Brandi said sweetly into the phone. "Hey, are you busy this afternoon? I need a favor."

Hours ticked by and Brandi had sorted the mail the best she could. Then she took the pile of mail set aside for possible candidates and sorted it into likely versus less likely. Once she was finally through with that, she began running the names and making a list. All the letters she deemed "no" got tossed back into the bag and as time slipped by, her eyes began to sting and the bag slowly got fuller. After a while Brandi rested her face in her hands. The Tylenol was wearing off and she wasn't sure she packed any more. Her head throbbed and her ribs ached and she wanted nothing more than to soak in a tub with a bottle of wine and then sleep for a week.

Brandi lifted her head when she heard someone sit something down on the table and clear their throat. She looked up to see Tim standing next to her with his hand still on the cup of coffee.

"Looked like you could use it." He told her and took a sip of his own coffee. Even though it was getting later into the afternoon, she had a feeling she'd be there for even longer.

"Thanks." She said and took a sip and Tim pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. "What have you been up to?"

"Well, aside from helping Art coordinate this protective detail, I've been given access to the judge's email. He got some fan mail there too. Figured it would go quicker if I took that off your hands." Tim explained.

"He's popular." Brandi commented off handedly. Tim let out a long sigh.

"Yeah." Tim drawled and leaned back in his chair. "That's not all though. I've been going through some of his older cases, all the way back from his first day."

"What'd you find?" She asked, curious about the judge. Tim looked at her for a minute, weighing his options. He didn't just find some interesting cases relevant to what they were looking for. He had half a mind to tell her he found the file on her mother's trial, but what good would that really do? Was it really necessary? Brandi was there for it all, she knew better than anyone that happened. After a brief moment of hesitation, Tim decided to just stick to what was relevant.

"His first court case?" Tim started and Brandi listened intently, eager to hear the new details being added to the case. "He let the guy off easy and about a year later, the guy kills a kid and a cop."

"Damn." Brandi breathed. "Hell of a first case." Tim only hummed. The two sat in silence. This wasn't an easy job. They dealt with lives being upended on the daily, and even had to do some upending themselves. None of them liked it, but it was what they had to do. Brandi broke the tension by shooting him a sideways glance as she lifted the cup up to drink it. "For a moment I thought you were gonna ask me about my moma's court case."

Tim let out a brief nervous laugh and she took a sip. She liked seeing that nervous, almost embarrassed smile.

"Yeah, well." He drawled quietly, swinging his chair slightly. "I was thinkin' about it."

The phone on the conference room table rang, startling the two and Brandi pushed away a few letters and answered it. Tim went back to looking through some of the older files when he heard her swear for the second time. "Shit." She swore and picked up a pen and wrote something down. "Alright, I'll send Art your way." She said and hung up. "Art!" She called from her desk, really not wanting to get up.

"What?" He called back from his office and Brandi rolled her eyes. Tim sat with his hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of their antics.

"Art, Raylan called!" She hollered to the man sitting at his desk in the glass office. While the shouting hurt, it was a hell of a lot easier than getting up. They heard him grunt and groan and stand up. The keys on his belt jingled as he walked and popped his head out the door. "There was another accident with the judge." Brandi filled him in, no longer shouting. "He said paramedics are on the way already. Here's the address he gave." She explained and handed him over a sticky note.

"Alright, thanks Brandi." Art said and looked between the two of them. "You two got the top ten list yet?"

"Almost done with the letters." Brandi reported and stifled a yawn. Tim hand over a piece of paper.

"Here's a list I got from his emails." He explained and she took it, looking it over. "Figure once you get yours narrowed down we can fit these in somewhere."

"How long will it take?" Art asked as Brandi scanned it. She recognized only a small handful of last names but she knew a lot of the towns.

"I can probably have it done by the time you get back." She said, looking back up at him. Art nodded, happy she had been able to do so much in so little time.

"All right, you can give us a run down when we get back." Art suggested. "Keep coming up with lists until we find who we need." He instructed as he walked back into his office to grab his gear.

"Sounds like a plan." Brandi sighed under her breath and pulled up the list of people she had. Now it was time to narrow it down. "Tim, can you make sure their addresses are up to date while I finish this up?" She asked and handed him a piece of paper holding her top contenders.

"Sure thing." He said with a sigh through the nose, already tired of looking at the same names over and over. Some days office work was too tedious for his liking.

The two sat for a while, narrowing it down, light talk floated between them about the case and eccentricities of the judge, swapping rumors. Brandi was relieved he didn't bring up anything…sensitive. She wondered if he cared or what he thought about it. Did he think less of her now? How much did the nurse tell them? Did he even care? She tried to push these thoughts down and focus on the work, but between staring at the light on the screen, trying to narrow down the "who dun it" list, and the throbbing pain in her head and ribs, Brandi found it more and more difficult to focus. She was exhausted. It was well past that time limit so she could go home for the day, but she had a job to do. She wasn't quite ready to go home yet. "Your head hurt?" Tim asked, seeing her with her face in her hands again.

"Everything hurts." She admitted. "Tylenol wore off a few hours ago." Brandi explained and lifted her head. Tim looked out to the office and saw Art walking towards them.

"Well, here's your chance to wrap it all up." Tim offered her. Brandi smiled as her boss came into the room.

"How's it goin' you two?" He asked, starring at the mess of letters all over the desk. "You're still just as unorganized as ever." He said to Brandi.

"It's an organized mess," She defended and started looking for her lists, "I know where everything is."

"Then where is your list?" Art asked, smirk on his face as she kept searching.

"Somewhere on the table." Brandi said and Tim let out a puff of humor through his nose. He reached over and pulled the paper out from under her laptop and Brandi shot him a look of thanks. He nodded quickly at her before handing the paper to Art who had taken an apple out of his pocket. He looked over the paper and rubbed the apple against his shirt while Tim talked, letting Brandi sit back and just breathe.

"Here's the list with the updated addresses." Tim explained, "Or at least the most current we could find. This guy at the top of the list? His last known address was Wichita." Art hmmed at it and nodded before handing the paper back to Tim.

"Good work." He said as Raylan waltzed in. He glanced at Raylan over his shoulder. "And where have you been?"

"Uh, personal business." Raylan dismissed. Art bit his apple while staring down Raylan, not buying it and Brandi tried to fight back a smile. Art giving Raylan shit was her favorite part of her day. Raylan stared back for a moment. "That's why they call it 'personal'."

"Mm-hm." Art nodded and lumbered out of the room, chewing on his apple. She saw Raylan crack a smile as he turned to them.

"You guys got that top ten list for the judge for me?" He asked and Tim handed the same paper to Raylan.

"I do, uh and it wasn't easy narrowing it down to 10." Tim said with his smirk.

"They don't call him "Mike the Hammer" for nothing." Brandi added and Raylan looked between the two of them, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Yeah, every time that gavel drops, he just hits them with the maximum sentence," Tim explained, leaning back in his chair. "Plus asset forfeiture-"

"Court costs." Brandi tossed in quietly.

"Yeah, court costs, really anything he can toss at them." Tim finished, nodding at Brandi for her input.

"Well, as advertised, he's colorful." Raylan said as he folded the paper and put it inside his blazer. "Loves his job."

"There's more to it than that." Brandi piped up, swiveling her chair a little bit. Raylan looked at her, interested in hearing what she had to say. She looked at Tim expectantly. "Tell him what you found, about his first case." She encouraged and Raylan looked to Tim.

"I got out the old court records." He started. "going all the way back to his first days on the bench and that's when I find Kit Mckendrie." He explained and picked up a file, handing it to Raylan. He opened it and scanned what he could see.

"Kit McKendrie trying to kill the judge?" Raylan asked and Tim rubbed his temple. It was not a pleasant story.

"No, Mr. McKendrie got off with time served." Tim sighed a bit. "And therein lies a tale."

"Well, I guess I'll just have to ask him about it." Raylan stated and closed the file, setting it back on the desk. "Thanks, guys."

"Don't mention it." Brandi said and he gave them both a nod as he walked out. She sighed and let her head fall back and Tim looked over at her. "Thanks for your help with this." She paused. "And for last night."

"Don't mention it." He said and started gathering up the paperwork and stuffing letters inside the bag. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm getting' my shit and heading home for some much deserved sleep." Brandi giggled a bit and nodded her head in agreement.

"That I think I would love to do." She agreed and started gathering up the work. "I had Maura meet the furniture guys today so I get to go home to a newly furnished home."

"Oh really?" Tim asked her, giving a smile.

"Partially. Just the living room stuff." Brandi admitted. "But, it's a start."

"Well, you can break in the new couch tonight." He pointed out as he stacked some of the files together.

"If I wasn't so tired, I'd ask you to come over and break it in with me." Brandi blurted out without thinking and she felt heat crawling up her neck as she froze at the implications. Tim snickered at her embarrassment and she fumbled over herself to try to clear up any misunderstanding. "I mean…just as coworkers. Ya know? Like have a beer and-and oh, you wouldn't be the only one I'd invite."

"I know what you mean." Tim reassured her slyly in a tone that told her otherwise. Brandi let out a huff in defeat and shoved more of the letters into the bag. Brandi grabbed any loose papers and stuffed them in an empty folder. She snapped her lap top shut and shuffled to her desk while Tim grabbed his own work. Brandi was kicking herself internally, she literally gave him the shit for the same thing yesterday! Stupid, stupid, stupid. Head out of the gutter!

"Heading home for the night?" Art asked her, leaning against his doorframe.

"Yes, sir." Brandi said and tossed him a smile as she lifted her bag over her shoulder and shoved her phone in her pocket, shaking her keys in her hand. "I'll be back in bright and early tomorrow." She assured him.

"Look, you've got a couple broken ribs. Take it easy Brandi." Art told her. "If you need a day or a week off, take it." Brandi just smiled at him.

"I'll be back tomorrow." She told him and walked out of the office. Brandi drove herself home and sun was starting to set, casting long shadows. She sat in her car for a minute and just looked at the front porch. The light was on, casting a yellow glow, blending in with the warm sunset. She killed the engine and smiled, seeing the yellow paper taped onto the front porch. She grabbed her bag and gingerly struggled out of the truck, shutting the door behind her. Crickets chirped and the bards creaked under her feet as she climbed up to the door. She noted the two porch chairs and the small table. They weren't what she ordered and she couldn't help but smile. Brandi grabbed the paper and pulled it off the screen door's frame.

Welcome home! Hope you don't mind the new porch furniture, too! –Maura

Brandi unlocked the door and stepped in, flipping on the lights. She dropped her bag near the door and stepped into the room to the right, the living room. She slowly lowered herself onto the couch and sunk into it with a happy sigh. It was comfy and firm and didn't smell like mildew. She pulled out her phone and sent Maura a text.

Everything is perfect. Thank you!

Brandi closed her eyes and started to doze off but her phone buzzed with a new message. When she checked it, she slowly pulled herself up off the new couch.

You owe me. Check the fridge.

Brandi shuffled into her happy yellow kitchen and opened her fridge. She was greeted with a large tuperware container of food and a six pack of her favorite beer. Although Brandi noted Maura seemed to have helped herself to a bottle. A large grin stretched across her face and she pulled out the dinner and a beer. She opened it and was greeted by a large serving of spaghetti and popped it into the microwave. While it cooked she cracked open the bottle and took a swig.

Before long Brandi found herself sitting on the couch, stomach full of pasta and beer, something boring on the tv fading into the background, and nodding off and sinking into her new couch. The pain of her ribs and head were fading into a distant pulse.

Thanks for reading! Hope you like it! Don't forget to leave a review!