Title: The Swear Jar 21/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

Exhausted, Raylan hadn't slept but only for a couple of hours the night before. After some enjoyable shower time with Winona, they were ready for bed. For someone who was usually unable to easily fall asleep, he was almost asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Raylan suddenly found himself aware that he was lurking right outside the master bedroom at his Aunt Helen's house. He never referred to her as his step-mother. That whole 'situation,' as he liked to refer to it, between his father and his dead mother's sister, was a little too backwoods for Raylan's liking.

He noticed the house was in much better repair and cleanliness, as it was when he was growing up in that house. On this day, Raylan knew his Aunt Helen was gone to the bakery, where she had worked for more than 20 years. She could make a mean chocolate cake with a buttercream filling, and her Harlan County Fair Award Winning jam cake was legendary, a secret recipe passed down from Raylan's grandmother. What he didn't know was Arlo's whereabouts, and frankly, he didn't really care where he was. Just so he was gone long enough for Raylan to do what he had to do.

He went into the back of the bedroom closet where he carefully searched around until he found what he was looking for … a shovel. Raylan always thought it was odd that Arlo had pick axes and all types of spades and shovels stowed away in his bedroom closet, rather than outside, but then again, Arlo had a different slant than Raylan on about most everything.

Raylan took the shovel outside to the back of the house and walked towards a pile of rocks, where he began moving the big stones, one by one. It took him some time, but he finally cleared an area where he had, unbeknownst to Arlo, watched his father bury a large tackle box in that very location. He proceeded to dig, straight down. It only took him two shovels full of dirt before he hit the metal box. One thing was for certain, Arlo was lazy, even when it came to hiding his valuables. Raylan grabbed the handle of the heavy, green tackle box and set it above ground. After he regained his composure, he headed for the house.

Once inside, he took the tackle box to his bedroom. When he opened it, his eyes became as big as saucers. It was full of bank banded stacks of monetary bills. Adrenaline ran through his veins. Excited at the unexpected breadth of his discovery, he then ran to the front of the house and looked out the window to make certain he was still alone. Once satisfied he was, he returned to his bedroom, took one of the bundles of bills, and counted out a stack of fifties that totaled five thousand dollars. He then quickly counted the bundles in the box. There were 100 of them, making a total of $250,000.00. A quarter of a million dollars. All Raylan could think was that his dad must have run another, fraudulent insurance scam, or he robbed a bank … or somebody.

Quickly, Raylan counted out half, 25 of the stacks. Then, he shook his pillow out of its pillow case and shoved the stacks into the case. Next, he replaced the other 25 stacks back in the tackle box and closed it up. He then went back outside carrying the tackle box and the full pillow case, and he placed the tackle box back in the shallow hole and began to refill the whole and place all of the rocks back on top, just the way he'd found it. After he was finished, he hosed off the shovel, dried it off, and snuck it back in Arlo's closet, again placing it back where he hand found it.

He then raced out the door within the pillow case in tow and into his Jimmy truck and drove over to find Boyd. At this time of the day, Boyd could usually be found out off the Interstate, near a clearing at Cumberland River. Boyd and his friends liked to target practice, as he had plans to go into the Marines. It seemed that Boyd also had an abusive, son-of-a-bitch father, and there was nothing for him in Harlan, except more years of working in the mines or for his dad.

Raylan drove up onto the edge of the clearing and motioned for Boyd to come over, alone without his buddies.

"Did you come here to shoot some cans with us and throw back a few brews?" Boyd asked as he approached Raylan's driver's side where the window were rolled down.

"Boyd, how'd you like to go into the weed business with me?" Raylan asked with a tight smile.

Boyd looked at him with an expression of questioning on his face.

"No, I mean it," Raylan continued. "I came across some money that needs to be … reinvented."

"You mean … laundered?" Boyd asked, now leaning against the frame of the window.

"Yeah," Raylan nodded. "And I'd like to turn it into even more money."

Boyd couldn't help but think: His daddy was a criminal, just like Raylan's, only Bo Crowder was even more physically abusive to his son than Arlo was to Raylan. Bo owned a small strip club just outside of town, where he also dabbled in drugs and prostitution. The idea of going into business with someone other than his old man was very appealing to Boyd.

"What you're tellin' me is you got some 'seed money?' Boyd asked, raising an eyebrow with a big toothy grin on his face.

"I got seed money, fertilizer money, tractor money," Raylan grinned, "but we're gonna need a place to stash some cash until we get ready to set up shop."

"How much cash are we talkin' about stashin'?" Boyd asked, suddenly becoming interested.

Raylan opened up his denim jacket and pulled out four bank stacks of hundreds. He then handed two of the stacks to Boyd.

"Two for you … two for me … for now," Raylan's eyes became small. "I split everything with you, 50/50."

"Shit!" Boyd said, pulling his body closer to the truck in order to secrete the stack of bills from his friends who were still close to the water, shooting at birds, squirrel, anything they could find.

Boyd had never seen a bank stack. He then began counting one of the stacks.

"It's a total of ten grand," Raylan said before Body finished counting. "For you and for me."

"No, shit?" Boyd asked with excitement, yet trying to keep his voice down. "And just where did you come across this kinda money?"

"Arlo," Raylan answered, as serious as the day was long.

"You stole from your own daddy?" Boyd asked.

"Now, you want to get particular about where your money came from?" Raylan laughed. "Hell, Boyd. You'd steal from your own daddy, too, if you could figure out a way to do it."

Boyd acquiesced, "You're right about that."

After a pause, Boyd asked, "And you say there's a lot more where this comes from?"

"There's a lot more," Raylan said. "What I want to do is make some money sellin' weed then, put the money back, so Arlo don't even know it was 'borrowed.'"

After a moment of silence, Raylan had an idea and told Boyd about it, against his better judgment. "There's an abandoned mine about a quarter of a mine from Ten Spot. We could lower it down into the shaft, and no one would know where it was but you … and me."

Raylan swallowed down a big lump in his throat.

"Look, I know you don't like it underground," Boyd began. "By the time I get finished booby trappin' it down in the hole, now one will be able to get to it."

Boyd had been blowing up stuff since he was a little kid. Caps, fire crackers, bottle rockets, real rockets. He could build a bomb from scratch.

"I trust you to get us in and out of that mine without anyone bein' the wiser," Raylan began so that he couldn't back out, "and you need to trust me with your weed contacts."

The grin on Boyd's face grew even bigger. "I got some rope and some gear in my car. And I'll need to swing by the hardware store to pick a few things I'll need to make a trip wire. Let me grab my stuff, and we'll leave these guys here to shoot 'em up, while you and I will go stow away that money. Then, I'll introduce you to a few people."

Boyd left Raylan to go and tell his buddies that he'd be back in a few hours, and then, he grabbed a few things from the trunk of his. Soon, he was riding shotgun in Raylan's Jeep, as they took off for town.

"Where's the money?" Boyd asked as Raylan drove.

"Behind my seat," Raylan motioned with one hand still on the steering wheel," inside the pillow case.

Reaching behind him, Boyd grabbed the pillow case and pulled it over onto his lap.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, looking at the stacks of bill inside the white cotton case. Looking up and over at Raylan, he asked, "How much?"

"There was a hundred and twenty-five thousand, of which I just gave us each ten," Raylan said, "to show you some good faith. So, that leaves another hundred and five thousand in the bag."

Boyd rolled down his window and yelled, "Woo Hoo!"

The two young men smiled big smiles at one another. Never had they dreamed of so much money.

Finally, Raylan asked, "How much do you think we need to get into the weed business?"

"We can get in for about twenty-five thousand to start," Boyd started. "That's enough to show we're serious players. Plus we gotta pay some hired help because you and I sure ain't gonna deal."

"You got someone in mind?" Raylan asked.

"Yeah, I do," he shook his head. "I know a couple of guys who won't smoke up all their profits."

"And we pay them in money or grass?" Raylan continued to ask questions.

"With these two guys," Boyd explained, "we pay 'em in cash. You always pay … no matter if it's ass, gas, or grass … no one rides free."

"And how fast do you think we can turn the money around?" Raylan continued to learn about a business in which he knew nothing about.

"I'd say a week, maybe less," Boyd answered. "Once we get this down, we can do more than twenty-five grand at a time … move the money faster."

Raylan became very quiet.

"You worried your old man will find the money is missin' before we can make it back?" Boyd could only imagine what his friend was thinking.

Raylan decided to answer his question with another question. "If it was Bo, and not Arlo … and if it was you, and not me … what do you think would happen?"

Boyd shuddered. "Say no more."

The wheels in both their head were turning when Raylan finally spoke. "What if we took the middle of the stacks, and replaced them with paper? I mean, it wouldn't fool anyone, but it might buy us some time."

"Look at you," Boyd grinned, "all brains of this operation. I guess we'd better stop at the Ben Franklin store and buy some paper and a pair of scissors."

Raylan sighed. "That would take too long. What we need is that play money they sell in the toy aisle. We might have to hit more than one store to get enough. And we'll need some glue to put the bands back around the stacks."

They stopped at the Ben Franklin stores in Harlan, Pikesville, and Corbin, before they found enough play money, rubber cement, and rubber bands. They also bought a denim backpack to store the money and stopped by the hardware store as their second stop while in Harlan. Then, they turned back around and headed towards Ten Spot.

Boyd asked Raylan for his 2 banded stacks of $10,000 back, and place them along with his, back with the others, and he explained what he had to do. With the 25 original stacks, Boyd carefully removed all but the inner and outer bill of each and replaced the middle bills with the toy money. He accidentally broke the band off during the first few attempts, but he soon got the hang of it. Next, he then rubber banded the remaining middle bills. He continued the same process over and over again, until he created 25 fake stacks which he placed back into the pillow case … all but the first 3 where he broke the bands.

Of the new rubber banded stacks of 98 bills, each containing $4,900.00, he handed 2 stacks back to Raylan and kept 2 for himself. He then placed all the rest into the back pack. $25,000.00 would be used for their first drug purchase. The last thing he did was to glue the paper bands around the first three stacks that he broke.

Raylan quickly rolled down the window, as the fumes from the rubber cement overtook the air in the car. It was giving him a headache and making him sick to his stomach.

"Damn, are you tryin' to poison us?" he said, under his breath.

Concentrating on the task at hand, Boyd said, "Sorry … I'm almost done."

After the paper bands tried, Boyd carefully placed the three stacks on top of the others inside the pillow case and the pillow case back behind Raylan's seat.

"There," Boyd proudly announced. "You go and put those back where Arlo had them, and he'll never know the difference until we're ready to replace them. And if we can't, you can always blame the Bennett boys for the missin' money."

Raylan thought it wasn't a bad idea to blame the Bennetts, if Arlo discovered money was missing. The Givens clan had been feudin' with the Bennetts for as long as he could remember. His daddy had told him the feud had been goin' on since his daddy, and then, his daddy before him. No doubt that Arlo would jump to the immediate conclusion that the Bennetts were behind any ill will that befell him. And replacing money with stacks of fake money would be just the Bennetts' style. The more Raylan thought about it, the better he liked the idea: Maybe he could not replace the money he stole. Hell, maybe he could go back and get the rest of it … and not share it with Boyd.

He thought it best to keep his thoughts to himself.

"You're awfully quiet over there," Boyd observed, as they reached their destination. "You gettin' anxious about goin' down?"

Boyd had gone down underground with Raylan, many a time this past year at work. Some guys didn't mind it so much; some guys never could get used to it. Raylan fell into the latter category.

"I thought you might," he continued, as Raylan slammed the jeep into 'PARK.' "That's why I grabbed this."

He held up a bottle of tequila. Raylan could see the worm floating in the golden liquid.

"Liquid courage in a bottle," Boyd went on.

He screwed of the cap and passed the bottle over to his friend.

"Take a couple of shots of this, and you'll be right as rain," Boyd instructed.

Raylan did has he said, taking down two quick gulps.

"Oh, shit!" he growled.

"Burns, don't it?" Boyd grinned.

"No," Raylan screwed up his face, "it tastes like shit! Where the hell did you get this awful stuff?"

"From Mexico, you idiot. Where d'ya think?" Boyd shot back. "Now you know why they call it 'ta-kill-ya,'" he laughed. "C'mon now. There a job we got do, and then, we'll go buy us some serious weed."

They carried the gear to the entrance of a big open pit. Boyd grabbed for his rope and began making a loop.

"I lower you down first, and then, this bag of gear," Boyd explained. "And then, I join you. Just think, as soon as we make some more cash, I'll order us a ladder rope and some flashlight helmets. Or we can steal 'em from work," he grinned.

Ladder rope, flashlight or not, Raylan didn't think anything would help make this any easier.

When Boyd was finished, he said, "C'mon now, let's get you down there."

Raylan slipped his foot into the loop and tested it with his weight, before Boyd began to lower him down. He hung onto that rope for dear life, kicking himself away from the vertical wall, but not before he got a good smell of the cool, damp earth. He felt himself being lowered deeper and deeper into the darkness below, and his stomach churned and his heart began to race. Taking in a deep breath of the musty air as he had been trained to do at work, before he passed out from sheer fear, he slowly blew out the air in his lungs in an effort to stay calm and present.

As Boyd slowly and methodically dropped him about six inches at a time, Raylan waited and waited until his feet hit the earth below. With each drop, he told himself he was almost there. But the bottom never came. He held himself even closer to the rope and closed his eyes.

"Shit!" he cursed, enveloped in sheer panic.

Raylan awoke in a start to find himself in bed with Winona, covered in beads of sweat. He looked over at Winona and found she was still sound to sleep.

He placed his hand over his forehead and shook his head, remembering everything he had just dreamt.

Under his breath, he said to himself, "Hell, I'm gonna have to stop goin' to sleep."

(To be continued …)