Someone had tried to kill Raylan Givens.





There were a few things Rachel Brooks had grown accustomed to since the Stetson wearing marshall's arrival in Kentucky. Weekly they were required to account for any weapons discharges. Bullets and clips were counted and recorded. It was a ridiculous bunch of hogwash. She groaned, as she became increasingly aware that her internal monologue was now littered with Givens' colloquiums. That could be added to the list along with the nights spent completing lengthy paperwork detailing the events and facts of their cases, no matter how trivial said tidbits may have been. That was life with Raylan Givens around. However what the lady marshal hated the most was the constant presence of Winona Hawkins in her business and professional life. She should have accepted the transfer to the Miami field office when Art asked the year before.





The natural order of business in the field office changed with one of Raylan's tantrums, now that someone had tried to end his life, they had FBI agents crawling around and asking open - ended questions as everyone tried to discover why. She could have answered that question in one breath, it was Raylan. When didn't he piss someone off to the point they wanted to point a gun at his head and pull the trigger. She struggled with the same temptation daily.





Rachel do what?





That's exactly what she thought when Art prattled off their assignments. Rachel had been too consumed with personal reflections to pay sufficient attention to the conversation that continued around her. How in the hell was that supposed to work, protecting the ex - wife, girlfriend, or whatever title Winona answered to at the moment, of the man she use to...





She cut off her train of thought and attempted to focus on the matter at hand. From the corner of her eye, she saw a similar look of terror on Tim's face at the realization he was paired with Raylan. In all fairness neither Raylan nor Winona looked over the moon about the separation or their related tasks. The only one who appeared completely clueless and totally useless was Gary Hawkins. She'd never liked him, and right now Mr. Hawkins reeked of guilt and suspicion.





Rachel added a groan to the roll of her eyes before she moved towards her desk only to have her way obstructed by her colleague.





"Can we talk?"





She shook her head in the negative.





"Absolutely not."





She tried to push past him but he pressed on.





"Come on Rach."





Through clenched teeth she delivered, "Stop calling me that."





He leaned down brushing her ear with his lips, "I don't want to spend a night trapped with Tim in my motel room either, but..."





"But...but...but..." She struggled not to let her voice rise with her elevated blood pressure, "We're here again because the big bad ass Marshal Givens has stuck his nose in the wrong pot and now everyone is going to rain our heads."





She exaggerated her accent and waved her hands in the air with the delivery, which proved more comical than threatening as evidenced by the budding smile on the man's face.





"Get out of my way."





Rachel pushed him aside, only to feel his hand circle her upper arm.





"Be careful."





The words were a whisper and for a moment she thought he actually cared.





"I won't let anything happen to your precious Winona."





She fought to wrench her arm free, only to find her face against his chest. He lifted her chin with a finger.





"I'm not worried about Winona."





~`~





Raylan exited the bathroom to find Tim settled at the table by the window. He was doing a subpar job of pretending to thumb through the Maxim in his hands.





The man's eyes never left the page.





"What the hell was that back at the office Ray?"





And like that the battle began.





"What were those empty threats about never missing?"





He pulled off his boots and peeled the plaid shirt from his body. He was exhausted. It had been the longest twenty four hours he'd endured in a while. The last thing he wanted to do with Tim was argue, he knew that anything he said would be relayed to Rachel and he'd spend twice as long trying to repair the damage done. The intimacies he'd enjoyed in their relationship before were a thing of the past; however he wanted to salvage their friendship. He didn't need Rachel riding...his mind raced with the illicit connotations of that thought...





"Please tell me that look is rooted in X-rated thoughts about your ex-wife and not my..." Tim paused, "Rachel."





Deputy Tim Gutterson had genuine feelings for the marshal that shared their wing of the office. He knew they shared a quasi - friendliness before his reassignment, he just never thought it could or would blossom in to anything more. Maybe his missteps had aided in the formation of their bond.





"Shit." Raylan fell back on the mattress, "I don't want to talk about this tonight." He closed his eyes, "I only need one sharp shooter on my ass at a time."





"It's not your ass I want to be on."





Tim flicked off the light and Raylan did his best not to respond to the comment the man had made.





~`~





"Gary's got some Moscato, want a glass?"





Against her better judgment, Rachel settled at the counter and waited for Winona to pour the wine. There was an all-nighter before her and the last thing she needed was the light- headed tipsiness that often accompanied a few glasses of wine. That feeling would surely lead to an untimely nap and failure at her duties.





The two women sat in silence as they polished off their first round. Rachel reached for the bottle and refreshed their glasses.





"Do you love him?"





She was surprised at her boldness, the need to know how the ex Mrs. Givens felt about her former husband.





"Part of me always will, doesn't mean we're meant to be together."





What was the point? How could you love someone and not fight to be together.





"That's bullshit."





Truth was flowing and the quiet growl of her stomach, reminded Rachel she hadn't eaten since her morning breakfast at Tim's table. Who was she to question Winona's intentions?





"Do you love Deputy Gutterman?"





"It's Gutterson." She leant back and studied the woman beside her, "I hope that was a mistake and not some dumb attempt at a joke."





"No joke," A tiny hiccup escaped the woman's lips before she reached for the bottle again, "Alcoholic tendencies."





"Tim is..." Rachel accepted the refill, "He scares me." She took a slow sip, "Not like Raylan...different."





It was the first time she had acknowledged something had existed between her and the hot tempered Harlan native.





"He has that affect on every woman in a thirty mile radius." A mischievous grin spread across her lips, "Why the hell you think Mags Bennett is trying to kill him. Kill him or fuck him those are the only two feelings any woman can have for Raylan."





Truer words had never been spoken.





"You better get some sleep."





Winona swallowed the last drop in her glass before she stood and mock saluted Rachel.





"Raylan's..."





Rachel watched as the woman struggled to relay the words in her head to her mouth.





"I don't know if it's love Ms. Brooks, but Raylan feels something for you."





"It doesn't matter."





She moved to the stairs.





"That's where you're wrong deputy."





Rachel listened as Winona drug her frame up the stairs to her room and fell on the mattress in the master bedroom. She was still trying to wrap her mind around her drinking partner's words when the first shot rang out in the air. Her reflexes were shit and when the second shot delivered a bullet to her shoulder, her body tumbled to the ground without a fight.