Sitting in a cramped, stuffy van with almost-but-not-quite strangers was weird. G used to love stakeouts with James and her colleagues in DC. It had been fun, like a total escape from reality. Nothing mattered except the people next to you, the people you were watching and the coffee you were drinking. Speaking of coffee, Rachel rolled her shoulders and stood. She was clearly getting antsy and G couldn't blame her. They'd been sitting on this runaway fugitive, Antonin Fuery, for over 12 hours now and they'd all run out of things to talk about. Rachel incoherently muttered something about three lattes and left sharpish.

G yanked off her cardigan and groaned as her spine clicked in protest. Tim shot her a look that conveyed 'ew' and turned back to the static image of Fuery's wife's house. Nothing had changed since they'd rocked up, nobody in, nobody out, nobody in-between.

'Jesus Christ. Is it always this boring?' G whined, drawing her knees up to her chest from her seat on the floor. Someone had been kind enough to leave a cushion at some point so her sacral nerves were not entirely shredded.

Tim grunted non-commitally. He had swapped in for Raylan about 2 hours ago when Raylan had some sort of emergency that probably wasn't an emergency to anyone except Raylan. Tim had been very quiet. He'd rocked up in a hoodie, pulled his cap low and kept his sunglasses on even though the van was pretty dark.

'Gutterson, are you sick?' G said it just to get a rise, but when he turned to face her, she thought maybe she was onto him. His skin was paler than usual which really was saying something since he was practically an albino, and he had been wearing a perpetually pouty frown, though that was nothing really new.

'No.' One-word answers were never a good sign.

'If you are, you need to remove yourself from this situation immediately because I do not appreciate catching disease.' G stated, folding her arms childishly across her chest. She could feel Tim's eyes boring holes in her through his very dark sunglasses. He made a gruff sound of irritation before yanking his cap off and scraping a hand through his usually neat hair.

Tim was trying to convey through body language and tone that he did not want to have this conversation but G really wasn't picking up the signals. Or she was and she was ignoring them. Tim wished for Rachel to reappear as soon as possible. At least the girls could distract each other.

Tim could not begin to articulate his rage at being awoken at 4am to come join this pity party. But Raylan had promised to do all his reports for a week and Tim knew he couldn't turn that down. Anyway that girl Stacey, Tracy? Whatever, was trying to stay over after they hooked up and Tim did not do staying over. But how does one politely tell a girl to get the fuck out? At least work had been a good enough excuse. She had pouted, grabbed his hand, put it on her chest and batted her eyelids, promising him another go if he stayed but he had managed to extricate himself, making a mental note to forever avoid the bar he'd met her in.

He always slept better post-coitus and he'd been really looking forward to catching some shut-eye. But as the Lord had other plans for his existence, here he was, stuck in a vacuum-sealed chamber with Little Miss Nosy and Rachel, who was always grumpy if she didn't get her two hourly caffeine fix.

'Gutterson.' Tim groaned this time, dropping his head onto the countertop dramatically.

'Please leave me alone.'

'Gutterson, are you…are you hung over?' The words were reproachful but there was definite amusement in them. Tim stilled and the automatic reaction spurred G on.

'Are you…still drunk?' He felt her get closer to him, heard her sniff, felt the van shake with her laughter.

'God, you are.'

Tim opened his eyes, surprised to see G giggling. He hadn't spent all that much time with her, but from what he'd seen, G was friendly, efficient and cool. She seemed pleasant enough, a little sassy, good banter and enough sarcasm to be on his wavelength, but he'd never really seen any base human reactions from her. At crime scenes, she stayed level, poker face up. At work she was easy-going but guarded enough. Now she was…laughing? It didn't make sense but he went along with it.

What? She had a nice laugh…

'Fucking. Hilarious.' Tim punctuated wryly as he put his head in his hands. Even though he liked the tinkling sound of her laughter, the noise was making his head begin to throb.

'I love it when you swear. I don't know why, it just cracks me up.'

Tim took off his glasses, the dim light temporarily blinding him before he adjusted. He threw her an incredulous look but couldn't help a small smile of his own.

'Never knew I was this entertaining.' He drawled, only slightly sarcastically.

G continued to giggle and pulled herself up into the chair next to his. 'Thank you, I needed a good laugh.' She wiped away a tear and grinned at him.

There was a short pause as she assessed him critically.

'You have the look of a man who got lucky.' She deadpanned.

Tim's jaw nearly hit the floor. Where had this come from? How did she even know? He'd never thought they'd talk about this. He guessed rubbing shoulders with someone in close-confines formed an odd kind of bond where the societal norms of not bringing up sex with people you didn't know went out of the window…

G chuckled at the look on his face. 'Most definitely.' She nodded to herself before leaning on the counter. 'You smell like perfume.' She added, shrugging, clarifying for him how she'd reached the conclusion. Tim mentally kicked himself. Next time, regardless of emergency, he was having a shower.

For a second, G looked like she wanted to carry on the conversation, but then thought better of it and smiled instead.

'I had a question for you actually.' She met his eyes uncertainly. The look in her eyes was indecipherable but it made him think he wasn't going to appreciate the query. Oh god, please not a war question, anything but that. Tim steeled himself and forced a smile on his face.

'Shoot.'

'Speaking of shooting –' Really Tim? Shoot? Tim cursed inwardly.

'Any good ranges round here?' Tim paused for a few moments, quietly thanking the heavenly ghost that this conversation wasn't going down that road. He didn't know why she hesitated to ask in the first place. Maybe she didn't want to intrude on something she knew was sacred to him. In pondering all this, he'd obviously stopped so long that G impatiently raised an eyebrow.

'Er…yeah…a couple.' G rolled her eyes.

'Brain not engaged yet, huh?'

'Sorry. I can take you if you want?' Wait, what? Tim didn't realise how or why those words came out, but out there they were and he couldn't exactly take them back, could he?

G was clearly thinking the same thing. Apart from drinks and dinner with the office, which had only happened once since she'd been here, she'd never socialised with Tim. Why would he want to hang out with her? He seemed so distant. But she wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to shoot with a former sniper.

She flashed him a genuine smile and replied truthfully, 'That would be fantastic.'

Tim relaxed a little, the ache behind his eyes dulling slightly, glad that he hadn't been too forward. It's not like he wanted to spend time with her or anything, but obviously his subconscious had different ideas. Besides, it would probably be good to get to know her a little, maybe some one-on-one time would help him figure her out some, if just for his own peace of mind.

At that moment the door slid open to reveal Rachel, bearing gifts of coffee, bringing with her the first tendrils of the dawning sun. The coffee was gratefully accepted and everyone settled back down.

Tim slipped his sunglasses back on but kept his eyes on G, appreciating her genuine smile.

'I usually head down to the range first thing Sunday.'

'His version of Church.' Rachel butted in, much more perky now that she had some steaming coffee in her. Tim's lip quirked and he took a sip, some of the colour returning to his own face.

'Sounds perfect.' G was finally glad she had something to do in this town.

'We have Sunday night dinner at my house every week, my mom loves cooking and she likes a full table. Tim's a regular.' Rachel and Tim swapped a smile, making it ever more clear to G that the two were undoubtedly close despite their constant bickering.

'It would be nice if you could join us, G?' Rachel fixed her eyes on G with a smile on her face. In two weeks, she hadn't broken down many barriers with the new girl apart from superficial chats. Like Tim, Rachel wanted to know her team, it made her feel better about walking into dangerous situations knowing who had her back. She'd been meaning to do something with G for a few days now and when Tim had mentioned Sunday, she thought it'd be the perfect idea to see G, and to let G see her in a more relaxed setting.

G's eyes widened a fraction. Sunday dinner? In her mind, she could see Rachel having the perfect family. Wonderful husband, well behaved kids, loving mom. She almost laughed at the image. It suited Rachel.

'That'd be nice. Really nice.' G smiled a small, genuine smile. She had been trying to keep some distance between her and her colleagues but it was a kind offer and she was bored and lonely in this town. It couldn't hurt to spend some time with some good company, right?

AN: Finally some more Tim and G. Also plenty more Rachel to come and lots of angsty shooting at the range!