Author's Note: This is the first time I have been brave enough to publish one of my stories! I hope that you enjoy it. Thank you to everyone who has commented on the story so far via PM. I genuinely love hearing from you guys so it would make my day if anyone has anything more to say, good or constructive, I'll appreciate it!

This is very O/C heavy, but if you bear with me, Tim, Rachel, Art and Raylan will be making a much greater appearance!

This chapter and the next couple will be quite heavy on exploring characters, how they feel about each other etc. I know you all know these characters and have an image of them but I'd feel like I was doing a disservice if I didn't describe them anyway! Hope you stick with this story, it's very close to my heart!

Disclaimer: I am not in any way affiliated with FX. All views in my works are mine and mine alone, and any names and references used are purely coincidental unless otherwise stated by myself. I also, being from England, have very little idea how the FBI or the USMS operate. If any of my information is incorrect, please let me know and I'll be happy to correct it!

'Miss Gandhi, how can I help you?' Art caught up to her in front of his office and smiled his best, most welcoming smile that he reserved only for people he didn't know. She returned the sentiment and held out a wad of papers.

'This should be everything to do with my transfer. Also a copy of the firearm licence I just got for this bad boy - ' she tapped her gun holstered on her right hip ' – and all of the rest of my credentials should you need them.'

Art raised an eyebrow and took the papers. She seemed like the no nonsense type. She and Rachel would probably get along. Speaking of Rachel… he turned to her desk where she was working diligently on a case report. Rachel liked to get all that done early in the day, and like the highly organised woman she was; she rarely strayed from her patterns. Fortunately for him though, she caught his eye at just the right moment and he beckoned her over.

'Thanks. I'll file these away safe. I was actually going to introduce you to one of my best, Deputy Rachel Brooks.'

Rachel had reached them at this point and she smiled sweetly at G. She was a striking black lady, around G's height and with a distinct air of I-know-exactly-what-I'm-doing-don't-mess-with-me. Her black hair was scraped back into a high bun, but her rosy cheeks and full lips countered the severity of the hairstyle. She wore a formal black trouser suit and a pink shirt underneath and there was a friendly mirth in her dark eyes that made G feel at ease immediately.

'One of? Art, you and I both know that I am your best.' Her accent was not as southern as everyone else's but her voice was rich and warm. Art chuckled and pushed open the door to his office.

'Don't let the others hear you Rachel. You know they get jealous of my favouritism.' It was Rachel's turn to chuckle.

Art turned back to G who was watching the exchange with some amusement in her eyes. She was glad the people here seemed to be friendly and up for a laugh, but she was aware that she should probably keep a little distance from them. After all, she could be heading back to DC at the drop of a hat if the threat against her were to end…

'In all seriousness though,' Art began, ripping her from her thoughts again. 'Rachel is great and she's going to give you the tour of the place and explain to you how everything works around here. You got any problems, go to her. And I guarantee you won't need to come to me, because Rachel can fix anything.'

'She is magic.' G turned. A Hat behind them had spoken. She heard Art groan and retreat into his office and wondered if she should be worried...

'Witches usually are.' A dry, Southern drawl emerged from behind the Hat. To her left, G could feel Rachel rolling her eyes, nicely manicured hands on her hips as a warning.

'Boys, don't you have some Pokémon cards to swap elsewhere?' Rachel's tone was mocking but there was a smile on her face. G could tell they all got on well. Most of the time.

The Southern Drawl snorted. 'Way before Raylan's time.' This earned him a shove from his companion. Rachel crossed her arms this time and the two men straightened, knowing better than to push her.

'Behave, you two. We have company.' Rachel turned to G and smiled. 'This is Deputy US Marshal Gina Gandhi. I expect you to try and be respectful and welcoming.' Both men saluted at Rachel in tandem and G had to crack a smile.

'Just G, please.' She stuck out her hand and the Hat accepted it. He was tall, 6'1" or 2", with a very handsome face and a nice body under the purple checked shirt and black tie. He was rocking the whole cowboy look with faded jeans and leather boots. His hazel eyes were warm and they crinkled as he smiled, flashing a row of perfect pearly whites.

'Raylan Givens. I was the new guy before you.'

'Yeah, I read your file. Tommy Bucks. Very impressive.' G said off-handedly as she matched his firm grip. He didn't seem offended by the fact she'd brought up Tommy Bucks or the fact she'd read a file on him. In hindsight, she probably shouldn't have mentioned either, (she was actively working on being less abrasive) but he just tossed her another lazy smile.

Raylan's hands were warm and solid, like a boulder that had been sitting under the sun for a while. She didn't know why but it made her feel immediately comfortable and she found herself grinning. Not to mention, he was gorgeous.

'Read my file too?' Southern Drawl was now casually leaning at the desk closest to Art's office. She hoped it was his desk because leaning on other people's desks was just rude really, wasn't it? G met his eyes for the first time. They were a cool, blue-grey. The look he was giving her was cool too, contemplative, like an animal that meets a human for the first time, trying to establish friend from foe.

'Deputy Gutterson.' G didn't want to assume a first name basis or anything. His face remained relatively blank, save his seemingly characteristic smirk. He was obviously someone who operated on micro-emotions. An eyebrow raise here and a quirked lip there could mean everything. It was fairly unnerving.

He pushed off the desk slowly. Something in the way he walked towards her - just slow enough - made her think of a lion stalking it's prey. Something about him screamed danger. A complete juxtaposition to the youthful face and wide eyes that both screamed innocence. He was around 5'10", maybe 11'' and he was slightly intimidating as he came to stand before her. Of course, G didn't show any uncertainty.

Back straight, best poker face on.

As he got closer, his smile became slightly more genuine, full, pink lips curling almost sweetly. He took her hand and shook it.

'Tim.' Even the way he said his name was drawn out, and his eyes caught her off guard, freezing her to the spot.

His hands were large, cool where Raylan's had been warm. They squeezed her fingers gently but firm enough. When he pulled away, her heart was racing and she didn't know why. He brought the opposite of the comfort that Raylan had provided, throwing her weirdly off balance.

'Hope you enjoy Kentucky.' With that, he backed off and resumed his lean against the desk, navy blue shirt crinkling a little. Enjoy Kentucky? The way he said it made her sure there was a hidden joke in there. Some sort of irony? He seemed like the dry, dark humour type. Every movement seemed lazy and careless but G could see the gracefulness of that lion in him, under eyes that seemed to say nothing and everything all at once.

Jeez G, wake up.

G took a deep breath and hoped that she had kept her face impassive throughout that odd encounter. She flashed everyone a nice, toothy, bright smile and relaxed her stance.

Rachel relaxed now that the boys were about done flashing their dicks. She straightened her blazer jacket and turned so that she was directly between G and the two men-children.

'Time for a tour!'

Tim and Raylan watched the two women sashay out of the office with raised eyebrows. Once they'd turned their backs, Tim wordlessly fished a twenty out of his pocket and thrust it at Raylan. Raylan took it and grinned impishly before settling comfortably into the chair behind his desk and propping his feet up. Tim slipped into his own seat and bit his lip.

When they'd heard there was going to be a new deputy – a new female deputy - Raylan, Tim and a couple of others in the office had placed bets on how hot she was going to be. Rachel, obviously, had disapproved. Raylan, ever the womaniser, bet on hot. Tim, imagining a middle aged, battle-axe of a woman, bet not hot. He was now regretting it.

Deputy Gandhi was smokin', in a very not-from-Kentucky kind of way. She wasn't classically pretty like girls round here were, with their blonde hair and blue eyes that promised a good time. No, she was exotic, half Spanish maybe; more likely Indian guessing by the name, light brown skin and dark amber eyes that seemed to sparkle, shrouding some sort of mystery. She had plump, kissable lips and a lovely smile. Nice body, curvy, alluring in fitted grey trousers and a matching tight, fitted blazer. Tim admired her ass as she walked away.

She wasn't tall, but when he'd been standing near her, Tim felt like her presence carried a pull to it, like a gravitational tug that made him want to get closer. Instead, he'd kept as much distance as possible. Tim didn't get involved with co-workers. Tim didn't get involved with anyone… Still, as he twiddled a pen between his dextrous fingers, he thought that he would like to get to know her.