“You’ve been a bad boy.”

Raylan stopped dead in his tracks, he’d heard those words from Rachel’s lips before. Just never at the office or in this particular context.

“Pardon?”

He tipped the brim of his hat with a finger and noted her irritation.

“Coffee?”

Rachel didn’t even say good morning to Raylan when he entered the office. She’d smarted off about being a bad boy, all over coffee. He had known it was Wednesday and therefore his turn to make the daily java run, but Winona’s sudden need to be truthful about the bagful of cash under their bed in the bungalow had thrown him for a loop. He had more on his mind than Starbucks. He was totally consumed with keeping his ex – wife out of a federal prison.  Anyway, why did they have to spend hard earned money on coffee when they had a pot and tin full of Maxwell House on the break room counter? He fell into his chair and pushed the power button on his computer. He could feel the female deputy’s eyes and her mounting disapproval. She knew the signs, bloodshot eyes, day old stubble, and wrinkled clothing. Instead of digging in deeper she decided to remind him that he’d been replaced.

“Tim will get it.” Her chair creaked when she turned back to her monitor. “He’s out on an errand.”

Less than ten words were all it took to lay that last straw on his back.

It started the night before over a few rounds of beer and pool. Raylan had asked Tim about Rachel.

“She’s a damned good marshal, that’s what I think of the lovely Ms. Brooks.”

The deputy bent over the table cracked the balls and ignored each and every subsequent attempt of Raylan’s meddling. Once they were both good and lit, he took a chance and asked again; this time with a little more bass in his voice. Two broken pool sticks later and a few additional bruises, he had his answer. Gutterson had serious feelings for Rachel and maybe she felt the same way.

He was losing her.

“Get off my case Rach, its just flippin’ coffee; I’ll take your turn on Friday.”

Rachel bristled under his tone, biting down on the pen in her hand to silence whatever retort she had on tap. She shook her head and returned her attention to the images on her screen. The wall went back up between them. She shut him out and now it was his responsibility to get back in. He turned his chair in her direction and placed his feet on the edge of his desk.  Tim was right, she was a damned good marshal; meticulous, strong, calm under pressure, and beautiful. Those facts were obvious. He’d seen that in the weeks before when she had the chance to repay her brother – in – law for the pain he caused their family. Instead she let it go. He was reminded every day when she graced him with a smile. He respected and cared about her. That was the reason he left and took the drama that surrounded his life with him.

“I slept through my alarm.”

Raylan muttered the excuse as a half hearted apology, hoping to smooth the waters between them.

Rachel paused for a brief moment, meeting his eyes, until she picked up her phone and dialed Tim’s number.

He made a mental note to remind Art about the office fraternization policy later.

*~*~*~*~*~*

From there, the day went to hell in a hand basket.

The judge who was obsessed with his failed marriage to Winona and their rekindled friendship.

A surprise appearance by Boyd Crowder in the marshal controlled courthouse.

Not to mention Winona’s damsel in distress charade.

Rachel…

His colleague appeared out of nowhere, hands on hips, and demanding his immediate presence in the pit.

“Art said now.”

Raylan pulled his eyes and attention from Winona and her building disaster and focused on Rachel’s petite frame. He remembered a time when he would have detected the playfulness in her tone, but now there was disdain and an ounce or two of disgust.

He waited until they were alone before he halted the elevator’s climb.

Rachel immediately went on the offensive.

“Where do you get off interrogating Tim about what we do after hours?” She pointed her finger square in his face like she was six foot two instead of twelve inches shorter, “I told you, sweep around…”

His next move only confused the situation more.

Rachel Brooks infuriated him.

She was so headstrong and determined to have things her way that she couldn’t stop and listen for thirty seconds. He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her forward, and kissed her. He released all the mounting stress that had built in his shoulders and neck for the past two weeks in that moment of weakness. 

At first she didn’t respond. She remained limp in his arms and then her lips sprung to life and her hands climbed up his back before they settled at the nape of his neck. It felt like old times. An easier point in history before all the confusion of ex – wives and almost high school loves. It was so blissful that he didn’t even feel the smack that landed on his face.

He rubbed his stinging jaw, “What the hell you do that for Rachel?”

She was seething, “Don’t ever do that again.”

When the doors opened she tossed him a smug look, “Two alarms.”

Raylan made his confusion known with a furrowed brow and twisted frown.

“You need two alarms, so you can get your triflin’ ass up in the morning.”

Rachel stormed off the elevator and right into Boyd Crowder’s path. Now enemies and at one time friends, Boyd knew all of Raylan’s weaknesses. He was also well versed in deducing when he’d pissed a woman off. He smiled charmingly at the lady marshal before searching for his one time buddy’s eyes. He dipped his head and returned his focus to the woman in his grasp. From where Raylan stood, he could tell it was all general pleasantries, but even that momentary gesture set his jealousy to flight. The conversation went on for too long before Boyd released her and Rachel returned to their office.

Crowder was all smiles when he reached the spot where Raylan stood holding up the elevator and causing the pronounced buzz to ring out on the floor.

“Raylan Givens, I didn’t take you for the kind…”

The marshal grabbed the man’s lapels and forgot about his surroundings.

“It would be best if you didn’t finish that sentence.”

“Ah I just wanted to impart a little friendly advice. You know it’s hard to handle two strong willed women, especially when they work in the same building.”

Raylan let Boyd have his moment. Honestly the man didn’t begin to comprehend the truth his statement held.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The tension in the office grew in the weeks that followed. Raylan found himself strangely relieved by his assigned security detail for Carol Johnson, even if it meant constant interaction with Boyd. He had time away from Winona and the cluster fuck she’d made of their lives. She was needy and impulsive. There was a time when he’d found that enticing. Hell it was one of the reasons he’d fallen for the woman in the first place. Now, those traits would land him in jail or dead, if not both.

Boyd still wore his smarmy know it all grin, but he kept his comments to himself.  There were no further cracks made about the state of the marshal’s love life. At least not from that corner, Art grumbled enough for everyone. Rachel only sat back tight lipped and watched the whole affair play out.

She didn’t utter a thank you when he ordered the largest size latte with extra foam just for her on the days he was expected to spend a tank of gas on overly priced caffeine. Her lips never parted when he did his job efficiently; updating reports in a timely manner, conducting witness interviews before anyone on the team could ask, and yes scanning evidence and forwarding the results to all the necessary parties.

So Raylan definitely didn’t expect for Rachel to make an appearance at the old ball field. She came with glove in hand, retrieved a stray ball from the mound, and flung a fast pitch at the center of his chest.

“Are we speaking again?”

The question came after the first swing of his bat.

“Maybe.”

She pulled the glove from her hand and stared at him. There was more they needed to say, but it simply wasn’t the time, at least brutal honesty was out of the question.

“I just want you to be happy.”

He shared what was in his heart; he just left out the part about him being the one to make that happen.

She nodded.

“I want the same for you Raylan, but this game you’re playing with Winona and Carol.” She looked at the sky above her head and avoided his eyes, “This act with Mags Bennett…I’m worried about…”

Her voice trailed off and he followed her movements; the slow walk to him, the empathetic eyes, and the small hands that held his face. Fingertips traced the cuts and bruises that still littered his face. He took the opportunity to enjoy the momentary comfort she offered.

“I’m a big boy.”

He could have sworn he say her blush at his words connotation.

“I know.” She still held his face, forcing him to look at her, “You have a gun and an insane death wish. I just need you to think. Look at what Mags did to Loretta…to that girl’s father…to half of Harlan County…your not invincible.”

“I can take of myself.”

Silence wormed its way between them. Rachel Brooks had never asked him for a thing; not even his love. Her hands fell to her side and she bit her bottom lip before she spoke.

“Tomorrow is Wednesday.”

“I’m not bringing you the big latte, you don’t appreciate it.”

She pretended to pout and he buckled, “Extra whip cream…”

Her lips turned upwards, “And another splash of vanilla.”

“Just ‘cause you asked so nice.”

“Goodnight Raylan.”

“Goodnight Rach.”

Raylan eyed her retreating frame as she back peddled to her car.