"Feel good?" Raylan asked the morning as they pulled into the parking lot of the motel where they would be briefed and prepared for the upcoming operation.

"Not my best day," Nate admitted.

"We can tell them no and go home," Raylan said looking over at his son.

"No I'll be in just as much pain there, let's do this. Besides it will take my mind off of it."

"If you're sure then."

The two were met at the door before they could knock. "Come on in guys," Agent Timmons said backing away to make room. "This is Michelle and she has some clothes for you and is going to make you two look the part. Raylan you're going to need a bit more work than Nate."

"What's your plan?" Raylan asked.

"We need to make you look unhealthy, drug addicted and worn out. Nate we want to look resigned to his fate and Michelle will try to make him look as young as possible which really shouldn't be that difficult. I'm not even sure you really are eleven."

"Well I'm sure," Nate said scowling. It was true he did look younger than his eleven years. It made school life difficult as he was always the youngest to begin with, but his small stature and baby face made him appear even younger.

Michelle broke up the little squabble by bringing out her tools and the clothes she intended to use. Raylan was adorned in a ripped flannel shirt and torn jeans and make-up to make him look gaunt and sickly. Nate had on jeans that had holes in both knees, worn out sneakers and a clean but ill-fitting t-shirt. Michelle then handed him a windbreaker with a broken zipper and a baseball hat that when worn backwards making Nate look even younger than his tender age. The two looked at themselves in the mirror and nodded.

"Actually being father and son helps a lot, he's your mirror image," Timmons commented as he pulled out a map of a local park. "Now we have a mic in Nate's hat and will pick up the entire conversation. And Marshal though I do understand your need for a gun I fear that he will frisk you."

"Stop right there Agent, no gun no deal I already told you that."

"Well we'll figure something out," Timmons said as he pulled out the map and began to point.

On the way to the park they went over everything again and again until Nate begged them to stop. "Let me see your sad desperate look," Agent Timmons asked.

"Easy, it's the same one I wear every day," Nate said.

"Well, good enough just remember to stay in character, oh and you need speak like a local. I noticed you don't have the local drawl."

"What, you're afraid I'm going to slip and call him marshal instead of dad…I've got it," Nate assured in his best local inflection. He discovered it came all too easy for him and he knew by the end of the year he would sound like a native whether he wanted to or not.

"Okay, just relax, it will be fine. We'll be fine, he'll be fine I'll be fine," Raylan said as they got out of the car.

Timmons pointed out everybody that belonged to them and their positions around the park. The plan was for father and son to hang out on the bench by the pond until Mr. X showed up; intervention would happen when money exchanged hands. The FBI had acted as a service on a website that helped direct pedophiles to prime locations to pick up what they were looking for. Acting as a father the agent had promised he and his son would be waiting for the tourist at the park bench and if the price was right they could do business. This particular man had left a trail of victims all between the ages of eight and ten from Mississippi to Kentucky. There were witnesses and DNA samples ready and waiting for his capture. Raylan had initially become a bit hesitant about going through with it that morning but the pictures of the young victims left him no other choice. The entire idea sickened him enough to realize how important it was finish it.

Raylan sat on the bench pretending to be dozing, while Nate sat next to him with a pocket full of rocks that he kept throwing into the pond in front of him. Raylan noticed his son still had a great arm as the rocks made their way a fair distance. "You smell like booze," Nate said.

"That's because I drank some and that other agent wiped some behind my ears like perfume. I really get into my role. Hey this might be our guy," he whispered. "Remember everything we talked about."

"Mr. Jones?" the man questioned using the pseudonym that was assigned to the Givens; Dan Jones and his son Josh.

"Yes I am, are you PapaBear 409," Raylan asked using the computer codename the man went by.

"You can call me John," he said sticking his hand out as if they were at a typical business meeting. "This is Josh then?" he asked looking Nate over.

"Well yeah."

"How old are you son?"

"Ten," Nate said getting tired of being younger than his eleven years.

"Nice looking kid, pretty mouth."

The remark nearly made Raylan recoil and it was all he could do not slam the man down on the ground, but he continued to play his role. "The deal is two hours for five hundred dollars."

"I only paid four at my last rendezvous."

"Well that wasn't with us and with the repeat customers that Josh has, I'd say he is worth every bit of five hundred."

"You have regular's son?"

Nate nodded. "I make them real happy."

"And they pay well to be happy," Raylan said smiling. "Then I'm happy aren't I Josh?"

Nate nodded looking sad and scared. "They say I'm the best."

"And the best costs, he's experienced or he can act like he ain't it's up to you, he'll be whatever you want him to."

John looked around the park carefully. "Let me see if you're clean, I don't want to be ripped off." Raylan looked disgusted but complied showing he wasn't carrying a gun. "Last guy pulled a piece on me and took my money. But I find this method much better, snagging a kid off the street has caused me nothing but problems; you promise them all kinds of things that they are eager to take from you but when it comes time to perform for their treats then it's all tears. They've made it very hard for me."

"Well you give me the money and you take him and we'll all be happy."

"Will you be happy Josh?" John asked.

"If you want me to be." Nate responded looking down at his shoes.

"For five hundred I want him the whole two hours, it will take ten minutes to get my hotel room each way. I'm over at the Hilton. There's a hot tub in the room, you like water Josh?"

"It's okay I guess."

"Look buddy I'm not getting any healthier here, do we have a deal or not?" Raylan snapped.

"Stand up for me Josh," John said.

Nate stood up and looked so pathetic that it nearly broke Raylan's heart but he had to admit he nailed the part. John looked him over and smiled. "How much for three hours?"

"Like what you see now don't you?"

"Stay cool Raylan," Tim said under his breath from his vantage point behind a bush.

"I do, he has your eyes, though he needs to perk up a bit he looks kind of forlorn. Keep it up kid and you'll be a has been and no good to your daddy in a year or two. Kids need to carry their own weight in this world, earn their keep. I'll be good to you," he said reaching out to touch Nate.

Raylan jumped up as Tim nearly exposed himself from the bush he was hiding behind as he lunged forward. Raylan grabbed the man's arm, "you don't get to touch him until I have the money."

"Okay then, everything behind closed doors, I get it. Here you go then, get your fix and I'll be back here in two and half hours then, right back at this bench," he said handing over the money. "Come on Josh, let's go have a little party, you like parties right, we can even order room service if you want."

Nate turned so his back was to Raylan. John reached out to take Nate's hand when Raylan pulled the gun that he had stuck in the back of his son's waistband and aimed right between John's eyes. Before anybody could say or do anything the shouts of FBI came raining down. Raylan pulled his son behind him and stepped backwards. "You are one sick son of a bitch."

"You're using your son to catch me and you call me sick. Don't deny it, he looks just like you. I guess that's why I bought into it so easily. He's either a great actor or you're a lousy father because those eyes are what I see when I'm done with them."

Raylan stepped forward and slammed a left hook into the man's jaw. John crumpled hitting the concrete with a thud. He flicked the safety back on the gun that was still in his right hand and turned and steered Nate towards the parking lot.

Father and son walked back to the FBI van and were finally able to breathe or at least Raylan was, Nate appeared to be as calm as ever and the marshal wasn't sure if anything scared him anymore. "Do you not understand how dangerous that man was?"

"Yeah but you were with me, I knew you would protect me."

"I'm flattered," Raylan said with a sigh.

"We make a good team."

"Yes we do, but don't get any ideas," Raylan said narrowing his eyes. "I say we grab some lunch go home and watch some movies."

"Deal," Nate said his smile genuine.

Agent Timmons finally made his way up to the van. "How about a debriefing?"

"Tomorrow agent, I think we've had a long enough day already. I need to get him home so he can relax. I'll pick him up after school tomorrow and bring him to the office you can debrief him there."

"I'd prefer to do it this afternoon."

"Well, I'm telling you it's not going to happen. He's tired, he doesn't feel well and he had a man tell him he was pretty." Raylan argued.

"I think he just said my mouth was pretty, which is actually worse." Nate said looking tired.

"Okay, I'll be there at 3:30. You did great, you made a huge difference today and you should be a very proud father Marshal."

"Oh I am," Raylan agreed.

For his assistance with the gun toting clan and the traveling pedophile Nate got certificates, ball caps and official looking badges from both the ATF and the FBI. And then Raylan gave him his retirement papers declaring his undercover days were over. Nate met this decree with vocal disapproval but figured he was out of options anyway as undercover assignments for eleven year olds were in pretty short supply. But if he feared life would become boring he had another thing coming.