Two weeks, Tim heaved his small bag onto the desk in front of him and checked his weapon, showing his badge to the Homeland Security on the desk, he was waved through and headed straight to the nearest lounge and coffee.

He was tired, coming off back to back shifts so that he could fly out to LA and be with Raylan when he 'graduated' from Guide Dog Training School. It wasn't that Art was being mean-spirited about it, on the contrary, both Art and Rachel were buzzed to meet Raylan's new dog, it's just they were short with a couple of annual leaves and Tim covering for Nelson who had taken a round to the shoulder three weeks before.

Truly Tim had missed Raylan. More than he had thought possible. Quite what that meant in terms of their lives, well Tim had several hours of flight time and a transfer in Houston to contemplate the matter.

They were friends, occasional lovers, they slept in the same bed together, Tim was still trying to work out exactly what that meant emotionally. Raylan would lie there next to him, his hand around Tim's wrist. It grounded Tim, the nightmares were less savage and less frequent, and Tim knew that it made Raylan feel secure, that he was not alone, but what it actually meant? Tim was still trying to figure that out.

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Raylan grasped Otis' jaw firmly, unsuccessfully avoiding the enthusiastic swipes from the huge tongue, "cut that out," he gently lifted Otis' top lip and ran a finger along the gum line. Otis' tail beat an excited crescendo as Raylan failed to find any tartar, and reached into the packet of chews.

The Labrador inched closer, salivating, as Raylan extracted a chew. "Nicely." Raylan tried to put a stern warning tone in his voice, Otis loved food, all kinds of food, including things that weren't food at all. His snatch could take fingers. Their second walking session, Raylan had been puzzled by the slight deviation in their route, felt Otis' head bend down, then the ecstatic sounds of crunching, and some horrified noises from Cally who was walking with them.

"What?" Raylan tried to figure it out.

"A snail." Cally said. "He ate a snail."

After calming Cally down, Raylan tried to reason with her that Otis just liked to eat things. The snail, the child's spat out sweet, the abandoned box of Chinese take out. Everything was grist to Otis' mill. Cally still wanted to scrub Otis out of the program, but Raylan couldn't bear to even hear that.

Somehow, they had made it. Tim was going to be with them in about an hour and Raylan was putting the final spit and polish on his dog. He handed off the chew carefully, and Otis took it gently out of his hand.

It was crunch time, and Raylan wanted Tim to love Otis.

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"Mr Gutterson, I thought it was important for us to meet before you see Mr Givens…"

"Tim, please, and I really would call Raylan by his first name. Being called Mr Givens upsets him."

Cally folded her hands, a bit primly Tim noted. "There have been some issues."

"This is Raylan, issues are normal." He shifted in his seat and tried not to roll his eyes.

"The issues have not been with Raylan, although I must say the altercation earlier this week…"

"Raylan losing his sight didn't really switch the other instincts off, I'm afraid." Tim sighed a little. "He still knows how to fight."

"He does indeed!" She was looking particularly po-faced, and Tim wondered why. She was roughly his own age, but seemed very young to him. He had heard about the fight from the local leos who had been duly impressed with Raylan's skills, not that it was much of a fight. The drunk had tried to come on to Cally, and grabbed her arm, Raylan and Otis had come to her rescue.

Cally watched her tutee's partner carefully. The slightly too impassive stare, and the almost glib answers were a cover, but she was guessing the laconic attitude had a point. The fight issue more than anything else had given her the clue, was less than a fight, more Raylan dropping an unpleasant drunk that had threatened her on his ass. Cally had seen a few brawls in her lifetime, but she had never seen a blind man take out a drunk who had to be thirty pounds heavier.

She cleared her throat. "The problem is with Raylan's dog. Raylan manages him beautifully, but there is a concern that Otis' quirks might prove a risk to Raylan. We tried to change dogs, but Raylan refused. Said that it was Otis or no dog."

Tim tried unsuccessfully to conceal the grin on his face. That was Raylan all over. He had no doubt that Raylan had got attached from the first moment he met Otis.

"So, you want to monitor the situation."

"Yes."

Tim was actually waiting for the punch line. Knowing Raylan as he did, Raylan was not going to give up on Otis.

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He watched Raylan walking towards him, his step as confident as ever, but with something a little extra. The huge chocolate Labrador walking by his side being a big part of the something extra was Tim's guess.

The expression on Otis' face could only be described as smug. Tim watched the offhand saunter, and the swing of the thick chocolate tail, and figured that somehow they were born for each other.

"Tim." Something in Raylan's tone, excitement, perhaps pride, and a warmth when the cowboy said Tim's name almost made the sniper tear up. He stepped forward as Raylan's free hand curved around Tim's wrist. The touch confirmed Tim's feelings, and he was about to say what he felt even as a nose prodded his crotch.

Tim looked down, the Labrador smiled up, serenely. "Really dog?" Said Tim.

"Tim, this is Otis." There was no mistaking the pride this time.

"Hallo Otis." Tim slid an arm around Raylan's waist and pulled him close, ignoring the dog's attempts to shove his nose between their thighs.

Raylan leaned into his partner. "I've missed you."

There was nothing Tim could really say to that, so he just leaned in and they hugged, moment of truth between them, and Tim didn't need words or some grand gesture, he could feel the love flowing between them.

He felt the nudge on his knee again. Tim looked down, and raised an eyebrow. "Sorry dog. He's mine."