Title: The Swear Jar 16/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 following morning, Raylan sauntered into work, shuffling towards his office in a fairly good mood that is, until he ran into Art, who at first glance, was not.

"You're issued a cell phone so you'll answer it," Art bellowed. He had been lying in wait to catch Raylan at the elevator, just outside the Marshal Service offices. "You were too hung over, yesterday, to make it in on time. You're late again, today, and you're not answering your phone!"

"Art," Raylan said, defensively holding out his hand, "I am technically late, and I have an explanation. I just came from the 4th floor where I had to have a new cell phone number issued. You see, Ava Crowder called me on my cell last night. You told me not to have any contact with her, so I didn't answer her call. The only way I know not to have contact with her is to make it to where she doesn't know how to reach me. Here's my new number," he said, handing his Chief a piece of paper with digits scrawled across it.

Looking at the paper, Art deflected. "What did Ava want?"

Raylan shook his head with a smirk on his face. "How would I know? You told me not to have contact with her," he followed with a frustrated 'tisk.' "Her call went to voice mail, which I no longer have access to anymore, by the way, because I was showin' initiative by gettin' myself a new phone number."

"Well, that makes sense," Art said, stuffing the piece of paper with the phone number into his pants pocket. "I guess I'll have to talk to her myself to find out what she wants," he added, sounding put upon.

"I tried to set her up with Tim as a contact for the Marshal Service," Raylan volunteered. "I've been distancin' myself from her ... you know, since Winona and I are engaged. Ava's flirty ways aren't a good thing to have around my Wife-to-be Take 2, you know what I mean? On the other hand, Tim's single. He can handle it."

"Alright, Raylan," Art nodded. "I'll send Tim and Rachael out to Harlan to talk to her and give them a heads up to keep you out of it. I won't say anything more than they need to know."

"Thanks," Raylan said with a skeptical look on his face, knowing that Rachael and Tim were smart enough to figure things out on their own. They were marshals, and this is what they did for a living … figure things out.

Resigned, Raylan changed the subject. "Hey, Art? Are you and I okay? 'cause it seems like everything I do of late rubs you the wrong way. I can assure you, I'm not doin' anything to make you mad on purpose."

The elder Chief let out a sigh and pulled his hands out of his pockets and placed them authoritatively on his hips.

"Raylan, since you were shot, you have been a lot better about followin' orders, callin' for back up, and that's been good," Art swayed back and forth, his hands placed squarely on his hips. "But when it comes to the Crowders, you'll have to excuse my knee-jerk reaction. You've screwed me over, one time too many, when it comes to them."

Raylan screwed up his face. "That's exactly what Winona says."

"Smart woman," Art nodded. "I always liked Winona."

"It worries me when you two are in agreement," Raylan smirked. "Sometimes, it feels like you and she are gangin' up on me."

"It's good for you, Raylan," Art retorted, clearly amused.

As Raylan tried to walk toward the glassed entrance to their offices, Art reached out his hand and placed it firmly on Raylan's shoulder.

"Hey," Art's tone quickly changed. "I need to talk to you about somethin' else before we go in."

"Uh-oh," Raylan stopped in his tracks and narrowed his eyes. "These conversations that start like this never end well."

"I spoke to AUSA Vasquez about our conversation about Boyd," Art began. "With all your history and baggage with the Crowders, he agreed that this doesn't put you in the best light when it comes to your little visit with Boyd in Nashville. He suggested that you fall on your sword and offer yourself up for counselin' through the Department … you know, beat a reprimand."

Raylan pushed the brim of his hat off his face and began rubbing his eyes. "I already agreed to that. In fact, it was my idea," he sounded annoyed.

"You know how this game is played," Art smirked. "You have to let these AUSA types think it was their idea. And Vasquez does think it's his idea. So, he's recommendin' 6 weeks of counselin' for you, effective immediately. And I have accepted his recommendation. That is what I'm gonna put in my report. It's a pre-emptive strike."

Raylan looked up at his boss, a little more than uncomfortable, now that this was actually happening.

Art shifted his weight and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You have an appointment with Carolyn Fried at 2:00 this afternoon."

"Well, hell, Art," Raylan let out a sigh of frustration. "You didn't waste any time, now, did ya'?"

Art looked up at his charge. "Timing was of the essence on this one. You know that. Anyway, it's done."

Then, Art put a fatherly arm around Raylan's shoulder and led him into their offices. "And besides, the important thing is that you still have your job … especially with baby number two on the way."

Raylan nodded. "I appreciate that," he said and then, rolled his eyes.

As Raylan made his way to his desk, Art walked past and bellowed, "Rachel, Tim, I need to see you."

Tim and Rachel looked at one another and then at Raylan, who obviously avoided eye contact with them. It was only when Tim and Rachel were well inside Art's office did Raylan look up from his desk. He then made a quick call to Winona.

"Hey," he said after the call was connected. "I was issued a new cell phone number, and I wanted to make sure you have it."

"Why did you have to get a new number?" she asked, with concern in her voice.

It's not that she didn't trust the Marshal Service, but she didn't trust the Marshal Service.

"The Service requires we change it from time to time," he said, thinking that his impromptu explanation sounded good.

"Alright, I'll save this number in my phone," she said, entering in the changes in the phone as she spoke.

She hoped he was telling her the truth.

Then, Raylan quickly changed the subject. "If things go well, I may be able to get out of here a little early, this afternoon. Could I take you and Cait out for an early dinner tonight?"

"Sure," Winona said with a little smile. "Could we go for Mexican food? I have a craving for some enchiladas."

Raylan smiled. "Mexican it is. I'll call you later to confirm the time, but I'm hopin' to be home by 4:30."

"Okay, we'll be ready," Winona answered. "Love you."

"Love you, too," he said back to her.

As he disconnected the call, Raylan took note of how good he felt to hear and say the word 'love,' again, to have love once again in his life.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Driving out to the Harlan bar owned by Boyd Crowder's cousin, Johnny; Rachel, who was in the driver's seat, looked over at Tim.

"You don't seem to be very happy about coming out here," she noted. "You usually relish any opportunity to get out of the office."

Tim did not look up from texting on his phone.

"It's pretty obvious Raylan didn't want this task," he sighed, as he continued with his text. "Don't you ever get tired of doin' his bidding?"

"Art asked us to go, and he wouldn't have asked if he didn't have a good reason," she remarked. "You know he always gives Harlan runs to Raylan."

"Well, aren't you curious to know why he didn't, this time?" Tim asked, still texting.

"Who are you texting so furiously over there?" she asked, changing the subject.

"A girl I met last week," he volunteered. "We've gone out a few times."

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Really? Is she anything special?"

Finished with his text, he finally looked up at her. "I haven't scared her away, yet."

After a beat, he continued, "Well, aren't you? Curious as to why Raylan wasn't asked to go?" he redirected his partner back to his question.

"Sure I am," she answered. "I suspect it has something to do with the fact that the widow Crowder is always flirting with Raylan, and Winona isn't down with that. She must have been calling him on his cell. That's why he got a new phone number … to keep her from calling him now that he and Winona are going to be remarried."

"Yeah, well, maybe," Tim acquiesced. "Raylan was trying really hard to get Ava to start calling me instead him, the last time we saw her."

"Maybe if you could be a little nicer to her, she would," Rachel suggested. "Now, let's find out what she wants."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

About an hour later, the marshals pulled up to the parking lot and entered the bar to find Ava playing bartender.

"Hey, you're Raylan's friends," she smiled upon spying the two. She knew she didn't have any business to do with either one of them. "What can I do for you?"

Concerned about the tone in which Tim would start this conversation, Rachel decided to jump in first.

"We understand you've been trying to reach Raylan," she began. "Just wanted to stop by and see if there's anything we can do."

"Why?" Ava said, stopping what she was doing, with concern in her eyes. "Is Raylan alright?"

Rachel and Tim glanced at each other, to acknowledge that this woman still cared far too much for their fellow marshal.

"He's fine," Rachel said, the words finally coming to her. "He's just indisposed."

"Indisposed?" Ava responded, her tone notably changed.

It was apparent they were not willing to give out any information to her, but that didn't stop Ava.

"Indisposed, how?" she pushed a little more. Her determination was clear.

After a beat, Deputy Marshal Gutterson shoved his hands, still near his firearm. "Raylan's engaged with another child on the way," he fired. His steely stare never left her face, as he waited for a reaction.

Trying desperately not to show how she was feeling, Ava colored that reaction. "I see," she ruffled, standing proudly.

The truth was, there was no news about Boyd. Ava only left a message about Boyd as a way to get Raylan to come and talk to her, a plan she thought would surely work. Little did she know that Raylan never received her voice mail.

Boyd was going to be in prison for a long, long time. After much consideration, Ava decided she wasn't very good 'waiting material' and, erroneously believing that Raylan's baby momma, Winona, was out of the picture, she saw this was her opportunity to turn on her womanly charms and win back the marshal. She would gravel and cry and tell him how sorry was and wrong she had been. She had played out the scene in her mind hundreds of times since Boyd's arrest. She made the decision that she wanted to leave the bar and Boyd's lecherous cousin, Johnny, far, far behind. But news of this latest development put a wrinkle in her plans.

"While I appreciate you two comin' all the way out here to see me," her tone shifting back to 'sweet Ava,' "the reason for my call is for Raylan and Raylan alone."

Then, Tim decided to refresh Ava's memory. "Raylan introduced us when we came to pick up his father, and he told you that you can talk to me."

"I know," Ava nodded. "I remember. But the problem is, this doesn't concern you, in the least, Marshal …"

She scanned her memory for his name.

"It's Tim," Tim jumped right in, "Tim Gutterson."

"Well, then, it doesn't concern you, Deputy Marshal Tim Gutterson," she smiled through her clenched jaw.

"Oh, but it does," Rachel interjected. "If it concerns Boyd Crowder, it concerns the Marshal Service."

Picking up the cleaning rag from the bar, Ava replied, "Who said my call had anything to do with Boyd?"

"Raylan said you wanted to see him about Boyd," Rachel lobbed the ball back into Ava's court.

Truth be told, this is what Rachael had surmised.

Ava shook her head. "No, that's not exactly why I wanted to see him."

"Pray tell, then, why did you call him?" asked the woman marshal.

Ava pursed her lips. "That's not really any of your business."

Rachel interjected, "Again, if it concerns Boyd Crowder, it concerns the Marshal Service."

Ava insisted, "But I already told you … It doesn't have anything to do with Boyd."

Rachael's eyes narrowed. "Then, why don't I believe you?"

Defiant, Ava but her hands on her hips. "Believe me or not. That's of no concern to me. Now, if you will excuse me?"

The look on Ava's face told the marshals it was time for them to leave. But before they did, Tim pulled out one of his cards and placed in on the bar in front of Ava.

"If you need anything, call me. Winona wouldn't take too kindly to old girlfriends calling her fiancé," Tim stated, raising an eyebrow.

Both embarrassed and pissed off at what the younger marshal had said, Ava would not give Tim the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, she slowly tore up his card in his presence, while giving him a cold stare as she went on with cleaning the bar.

(To be continued ...)