Title: The Swear Jar 10/X
Author: Romantique
Email: dolph1n
Classification: Raylan/Winona Family/General
Rating: T for language (but no worse than the show)
Summary: Raylan is a new dad. This one is a stand-alone, not a sequel to 'A Change of Scenery.'
Disclaimer: It's 'Justified' hiatus time, and I'm bored. This fic is based on nothing but my imagination and takes place sometime after the end of Season 3.
Legal: These characters do not belong to me. I'm just a fan and have not made a dime. Please email me to obtain permission to post.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
The next morning, Raylan stepped off the elevator at the Court House, only to be greeted by his boss.
"Well, good mornin', Sunshine," Art announced with a smile, his voice echoing through the floor lobby.
Caught by surprise, Raylan decided to push back a little by answering with, "Not bad, for a man who's about to tie the knot again."
Very surprised, indeed, Art responded by asking, "You and Winona? Hell, you should have taken time off for baby sittin' duty before now, if that's all it took."
As Raylan walked towards the Marshals Service doors, he coolly pointed out, "That's a dollar for Caitlyn's Swear Jar, Uncle Art."
Art reached into the back pocket of his slacks for his wallet, as he walked beside Raylan, and pulled out a twenty which he promptly handed over to his deputy marshal.
"Put me on the same payment plan that Tim's on, will you?" Art spouted off, "Although, I'm not so sure we should be playin' this game when we're here on duty, Raylan. I don't want us to go all soft like the Tele Tubbies ... you know what I mean? We've got to maintain our edge, not to mention our dignity."
"Hey," Raylan interjected, "I won't tell Winona, if you won't. This whole Swear Jar thing was her idea, not mine ... although I do appreciate the spirit of the thing."
"Yeah, it might be different if Caitlin had been a boy," Art nodded. "Daughters are ones to behold and protect."
When they reached the doors, Art placed a steady hand on Raylan's shoulder and put out his other hand for a shake.
"In all seriousness, congratulations," the elder Chief said with a smile. "I always hoped you two would get back together. I like Winona. I think she's good for you, too."
"Thanks," Raylan returned the smile, along with the firm handshake. "This last week was good for us, with the baby and all."
As the two walked past Rachael's still vacant desk, Tim caught Raylan in his peripheral vision.
"Hey, welcome back!" Tim greeted. "We need to talk."
"I'll leave you two to catch up," Art said. "I need to go to my office and get ready for a conference call."
After Art left, the two deputy marshals continued their conversation.
"About what?" Raylan raised an eyebrow. "And thank you, by the way."
"For what?" Tim questioned, looking confused.
"For welcomin' me back," Raylan stated the obvious.
Tim shook his head with a smirk. "You're welcome," he said, "but you owe me one."
"For what?" Raylan echoed, including the look of confusion on his face.
"For babysitting Ava Crowder, for one," Tim answered, very matter-of-factly. "You do know she still has the hots for you, don't you?"
Raylan screwed up his face. "No, she doesn't," he answered the charge. "That's just her way to keep us off track from findin' for Boyd. You did find him while I was gone, didn't you?"
"Nope," Tim informed him. "I even went out to Noble's Holler to talk to Limehouse, and he claims to know nothing of Boyd's whereabouts."
Shifting his weight and placing his hands on his hips, Raylan asked, "Did you believe him?"
"Don't know if I believed him or not," Tim began, "but I enjoyed the hell out of his pulled pork sandwich. Piles of juicy, dark meat with that crispy fat and just the right amount of sauce. Not too little, not so much that it was swimming in sauce. We just don't have barbeque that good here in Lexington, or anywhere else that I know of."
"Hey," Raylan held up a finger. "That's a dollar against your credit in the Swear Jar."
"My account should be set for a while longer," Tim reminded him.
"It is," Raylan said, "but just so you know, I do keep count." Then, he changed the subject. "Now back to Ava. I also think you're mistaken about her intent because I set her straight about me and her, before I left last week, under no uncertain terms. I even suggested that you were available."
"Thanks, but no thanks," Tim shook his head. "Not interested. She's cute, but she shoots people."
"You shoot people," Raylan noted.
"True, but I don't usually know the people I shoot," Tim shot back.
Raylan sighed. "Well, shit!" he exclaimed. "I guess I need to talk to her to see if I can get her to tell me where Boyd is."
"Uh, you just cussed," Tim pointed out.
"Yeah, well, I took your lead and paid up for the foreseeable future," Raylan answered. "By the way, so did Art."
"Hey, you're back!" Rachael said, coming into the office for the morning. "Couldn't help but overhear your conversation. Would you like me to ride shotgun with you when you go out to talk to Ava? I could protect you from her womanly wiles," his fellow deputy marshal teased with a smile.
"That might not be a bad idea," Raylan concurred.
"I think it's a fine idea because I sure as hell don't want to go," Tim declared. Then, he glanced over at Rachael. "Ol' Raylan here was trying to use me as decoy with the widow Crowder while he was on vacation." And he followed up his declaration with a fake shudder.
"One, that's another buck off of your tab, and two, who asked you to go?" Raylan raised his eyebrows. "I'd much rather go with Rachael."
"Good," Rachael said. "I'll go and grab our vests."
"What do we need them for?" Raylan questioned her action.
"Aren't you afraid Ava's gonna shoot you?" Tim quipped to Raylan. "Because you should be."
"We are going to Harlan," she said. "That's the new standard procedure after you and then, Tom Bergen was shot."
"Yeah, you're right," Raylan concurred, remembering the promise me made to Winona, and now, he had Caitlin to consider as well. "While you're doin' that, I'll give Ava a call."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Once inside the Lincoln, Raylan asked Rachael, "Would you mind if we made a stop on the way out of town? I need to pick up some keys from a realtor."
"Are you moving out from over the college bar?" Rachael asked, buckling herself in.
Raylan looked over at her, as he was turning the ignition.
"Winona and I are gettin' remarried," he announced. "And that reminds me, I need to run an address though our Records database to make sure the house is 'all clear'."
"Never a bad idea, and ... congratulations!" she smiled. "Did you ask her over this past week?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "I can't explain what changed between us, other than Caitlin sure has put everything into perspective ... for both of us."
Rachael chuckled. "Babies have a way of doing that. You've sure got yourself a cutie."
He gave a tight-lipped smile. "We like her."
"How about we celebrate by driving through that Starbucks coming up on the right?" she asked, pointing across the oncoming intersection. "My treat."
Teasingly, he said, "Well then, I'll have to order the biggest, most expensive drink on the menu."
"You do that," she said. "I think I can handle it."
Well caffeinated and about ninety minutes later, the two arrived in Harlan at Johnny Crowder's bar.
"Raylan Givens is in the house!" Johnny Crowder announced as the two marshals entered the bar.
At eleven o'clock in the morning, there was already a pretty good crowd of regulars in the house, as well. Raylan scanned the room until he spied Ava behind the bar at the far end.
"I'll sit over here by the door, in case you need me," Rachael suggested with a nod.
As he walked over toward the bar, Ava was waiting for him.
"I'm so glad you called," she smiled. "That other marshal told me you'd be back in town today."
She reached over and seductively ran her fingers down the buttons of his shirt, actually unbuttoning one.
"I am officially off the market," Raylan informed her in a low voice, re-buttoning his shirt. "Winona and I are gonna be remarried."
"Well, congratulations," Ava said with a sultry smile, her tone noticeably different. "Can I buy you a drink to celebrate?"
"Only if it's non-alcoholic. How about a Coke?" he said, "I'm on duty. And thank you for the congratulations."
After pouring him a glass from the fountain, she walked back around the bar and came up closer, alongside of him. Then, she wrapped her arms around him.
"You're not officially off the market," she cooed. "I mean, you're not married ... yet."
The marshal rolled his eyes, all too familiar with Ava's flirty tactics that were once so flattering. But since she had taken up with Boyd, Ava's girlish innocence was long gone. It had been replaced with a hardened edge that wasn't there even after she shot Bowman. It was as if she had taken to Boyd's criminal ways like a kid to a carnival, chocked full of rides and cotton candy. The little girl who had lived up the street from him and, who always played like she was so tough, was no longer playing. No, little Ava was now running whores, selling weed, harboring criminals, and Lord only knew what else.
"I'm still in love with Winona," he said, followed by a big exhale. "And she's the mother of our beautiful baby. So, yeah, I am officially off the market."
Ava turned him on his bar stool so that he faced her, and then, she climbed up on top of his lap so that she straddled him. Raylan nervously glanced across the room at Rachael, who was trying hard to stifle a laugh, shaking her head at the predictable predicament Raylan found himself in. Rachael couldn't help but think that Art and Tim were going to love this story.
As Raylan placed his hands on Ava's upper arms and braced his elbows to create some distance, Ava gave him a devilish little smile.
"You say no, but your body says yes," she purred in his ear, referring to his involuntary reaction to her. "We could have your Bachelor Party right here and now, and I could give you a lap dance in front of all these people."
He could only imagine that she had learned a thing or two from running the whores.
"Ava," he said, quickly dismissing the thought. He grabbed her by the waist, lifted her up, and placed her over on top of the barstool, next to him, in one quick motion. "Where's Boyd?"
Still flirting, she answered, "I told you. We broke up. I don't know where he is."
"Did you shoot him, Ava?" he said with a big smile, half of him not kidding.
Keeping her dreamy eyes fixated on Raylan, Ava called across the room. "Johnny! Raylan here wants to know if I shot Boyd."
Jokingly, Johnny answered, "I don't know. Did you?"
"Funny, Johnny," she answered, not taking her eyes off of Raylan. She lightly ran her fingertips seductively down the side of his chiseled jaw line.
Raylan swallowed hard.
"He wants to know where Boyd is," she continued speaking with Johnny while a hundred percent of her attention was focused on Raylan.
Johnny walked closer towards Raylan from behind the bar, hugging the counter for support.
Leaning in a little, Johnny said, "You didn't hear this from me, and neither did you, Ava, but I hear he had some business to take care of in Tennessee."
"Thanks, Johnny," Raylan said, keeping his voice down.
After Johnny left to take care of a customer at the other end of the bar, Raylan asked Ava, "His business wouldn't have happened to be with Rodney Dunham ... would it?"
"Hotrod Dunham? Out of Memphis?" she answered him with a question. "Well, I wouldn't know. I told you we broke up. I haven't heard from him, and I don't expect to."
Suddenly, a thought occurred to Raylan.
"I gotta go," he said, abruptly standing up as if a switch had suddenly flipped.
He leaned over and gently kissed a confused Ava on the side of the cheek, thinking it was better to leave her with a little sugar, rather than vinegar ... something his late Aunt Helen had taught him well.
"Thanks for the Coke," he said in parting.
And with a renewed bounce in his step, he collected his partner and made good time on the drive back to the Court House.
(To be continued ...)