[ two updates in one day! hope I wake up to comments about the drama and Raylan's silliness.

and Bambi is like barely in this chapter. sorry.

also, day or two before another chapter because I'm gonna actually finish season two. this was where I made it into the show the first time around before life got in the way and I forgot how much I love this show ]

✵

YOU WERE OUT ON A DATE WITH BAMBI CROWDER.

[ season 1 — episodes 3, 4 ]

"START gettin' dressed."

"Hello to you too," Bambi said as she answered the call from Tim.

She could practically hear his smile as he spoke. "I'm an hour away and I want you in something gorgeous when I get there."

"Yeah? And why's that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I've got tickets to Dave Alvin. He's playing a few hours away," he informed her. "Figured it's about time I take you on a real date."

Something akin to butterflies swarmed in Bambi's stomach as she couldn't help but smile. "Since when do we go on dates, Marshal Gutterson?"

"Since now," he informed her. "A girl like you deserves to be shown off. And, well, if the AUSA decides tomorrow that my shooting of that man wasn't justified, I'm gone be in a hell of a lot of hot water. A night with good music and you on my arm sounds like the perfect way to forget everything."

"Fair point," she said, knowing how worried Tim had been even though he wasn't letting anyone at work know how anxious about the hearing he was. "And you know it'll be fine. Raylan shoots someone every other week, and he's still got his job."

"Yeah," he laughed, "but Raylan has a way of gettin' away with everything. It's his charm or something."

"You got plenty of charm yourself, Tim. Though I think I am a little biased."

"Hmm, only a little?" he asked with a smirk she couldn't see. "Maybe I outta turn around. Just go by myself."

"No," she said in a pleading tone. "I love Dave Alvin. And I ain't been to any kind of concert since college."

"Then I repeat my original request," Tim told her. "Start getting dressed."

✵︎

There Raylan sat at Winona's side, perched on a chair in a bar so far out of Lexington that it took nearly an hour to get there. The band was on stage, getting ready to go on, but Raylan just couldn't get excited as he sipped on his beer. Slowly, he glanced at Winona, who had her eyes glued to the stage.

"What are we doing, Winona?" he found himself asking.

Winona looked at him in confusion. "What are we..."

"What are we doing?" he repeated.

"We're having some beers, and we're waiting for Dave Alvin to come on," she said, still not understanding his point.

"At a roadhouse fifty miles outside of Lexington?"

She just chuckled. "Was he playing somewhere else tonight?"

"No," he huffed, "that's not my point."

Winona raised an eyebrow. "What is your point?"

"If he was playing in Lexington, would we go see him?" Raylan asked her, only to be met with shamed silence. "No. No, 'cause we drive to the middle of nowhere anytime we want to be seen in public. We lie to everyone we know."

"I thought we were being discreet," Winona said tensely, really not wanting to discuss this right now.

"Which I understood when Gary didn't know about us."

"Well, just because Gary knows about us doesn't mean the whole world needs to know about us," she argued.

Raylan just shook his head, getting more upset. "I don't see why."

"'Cause I'm still married, Raylan," she explained as if he weren't painfully aware.

"What if you weren't?" Raylan asked suddenly, stunning her.

Dave Alvin was announced, but all Winona could do was stare at Raylan in disbelief. "Well, that's a longer conversation."

The music began, but Raylan didn't give a damn as he peered at Winona accusingly. "Are you not divorcing Gary?"

"Can we talk about this some—"

"Because if you aren't, then I really don't know what the hell we're doing," he cut her off.

"All right," Winona sighed, "maybe I wouldn't be so hesitant to tell the world and divorce Gary if I thought you and I could be actually happy together."

Raylan's mouth parted as hurt washed over him. "I can't believe you said that."

"I'm sorry. It's just... I-I wanted tonight to be fun," she stuttered out. "This was supposed to be... fun — Tim's here."

"What?" Raylan asked with a frown.

"Tim, your fellow Marshal is at the bar."

Raylan turned and spotted the blonde man at the bar, sipping on a beer as his eyes were glued to the stage. And hearing the panic in Winona's voice, Raylan couldn't help but be petty.

"Let's invite him over—"

"We should take off—"

Raylan and Winona looked at each other in disbelief.

"Are you serious?" he asked, getting more upset.

"You cannot be serious," she said, shaking her head. "Did you hear a word I just said?"

"You said you wanted to have fun," he scoffed. "Let's have fun. Come on. Dave Alvin." Raylan looked over at his coworker. "Dave Alvin and Tim... and... Bambi..."

Raylan's jaw went slack as Bambi walked up to Tim, who greeted her with a wide grin. She was on a tight top that looked like a red bandana wrapped around her chest and a small denim skirt, a beer in hand. Tim grabbed her free hand and pulled her close so that she was leaning against his chest as they listened to the music.

Winona, seeing yet another familiar face, was panicking even more. "Either give me your keys or come with me."

Raylan couldn't take his eyes off Bambi and Tim, his mind running a mile a minute as he processed the sight of Tim leaning down to whisper in Bambi's ear, making her giggle. And the sight made his stomach turn.

"Okay," he mumbled almost dumbly, letting Winona drag him from the table and out of the bar as Tim moved to place a gentle kiss to Bambi's neck.

Five minutes later, they were on the highway and driving back toward Lexington, only the sound of the radio breaking the tense silence. Finally, Winona looked back at Raylan, who was gripping the steering wheel tightly, his jaw clenched as well.

"Look," she sighed, "I'm sor—"

"What the hell was Bambi doing there with Tim?" Raylan cut her off, his chest heaving. "Dressed like that, letting him hold her like that. What? They just ran into each other?"

Touching her tongue to the roof of her mouth as she thought, Winona just kept studying her ex-husband. Because why the hell had he moved on from their argument so easily?

"Or they're on a date," she said, speaking carefully. She caught how Raylan's eyes narrowed. "And you care why?"

"Because, Winona!" he snapped. "It - it ain't right. She's too young."

"She's twenty-one, and I don't think he's that much older," she pointed out. "I mean, they looked real happy and cute together."

"Oh, they're cute, so it makes it okay," he said sarcastically while rolling his eyes. "An - and why wouldn't she tell me she was going on a date with Tim? Why wouldn't he ask me if it was okay to ask her on a date?"

Winona scoffed, getting a little annoyed. "Since when does Tim need your permission to ask girls out on dates?"

"When it's Bambi!" he said, still so upset. "Me and him are coworkers, and—"

"And you and Bambi are what?" Winona asked suspiciously.

"Friends," Raylan said quickly, hating how his chest tightened at the word. He didn't know why he was getting so pissed off, but he couldn't help it. "She's the best friend I got, Winona. And if this thing don't work out? She ain't gone want nothing to do with anyone in the Marshals office."

"Well," Winona said, pursing her lips. "I think Bambi's a big girl and can decide for herself if she wants to date her best friend's coworker or not."

Raylan let out a long breath through his nose. "I'm gone have a talk with him, tell him I saw them and—"

"No, you ain't," Winona said quickly. "Then Tim would know we were there. Stay out of it, Raylan. You understand?"

Raylan was surprised his jaw didn't crack with the pressure he was putting on it, still seething as his mind played back the image of Tim kissing Bambi's neck.

"I understand."

✵︎

Raylan's mood the next day hadn't much improved, especially when first thing in the morning, he had to meet in Art's office with Tim to discuss what happened with the pregnant inmate. If Art noticed Raylan anxiously glancing at Tim every few seconds, he didn't say anything about it.

"Well, I thought you both might want to know, AUSA has determined that the shooting of Jess Timmons was good," Art informed them, which relieved Tim.

"No surprise there," Raylan shrugged.

Art nodded and looked at Tim. "Hell of a shot. Did you consider what might have happened if you'd missed?"

Tim bit back a smile, recalling his conversation with Bambi a few nights ago. "Can't carry a tune. I don't know how to shoot a basket ball, and my handwriting is barely legible. But I don't miss," he said confidently.

"All right, that'll do it," Art said to dismiss him. Tim nodded and got up to leave, Raylan following him. But their boss called him back. "Raylan?"

"Hmm?"

"Stay a minute, would you?" he asked as Raylan returned, looking at him questioningly. "Do I need to be concerned?"

"About what?" he asked before assuming the worst, his face falling. "Oh, shit. He saw us? Listen. It's not what it looked like. It was just two people having some beers, seeing some music."

Art peered at Raylan, who was extra skittish. "Is that right?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Raylan," Art said accusingly, "what are you talking about?"

Raylan froze like a deer in headlights. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm asking if I need to be concerned about Tim 'cause he just shot a man, and you've shot men," he clarified. "And he's a little off. And you're always a little off. And so I'm just asking."

Raylan nodded before thinking back on last night, his annoyance returning. "If there's something eating at him, I haven't noticed. I'd say he's perfectly fine."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Art then smirked at him. "You're not getting off the hook that easy, though. Two people, out having beers, seeing music."

"Let's just forget it," Raylan requested, waving his hand and shaking his head.

"So, you were out with somebody, and Tim happened to be there," Art summarized.

"Could we not? Just..."

"Suppose it could be Rachel. Are you sleeping with Rachel?" he asked angrily.

"No," he said quickly.

"I don't guess Ava's looking to spend time with you. And I think I would remember if it was me," he joked.

Raylan wasn't as amused though. "You done?"

"Unless, of course, you roofied me. Did you roofie me, Raylan?"

"Yes," Raylan said flatly. "I roofied you, Art."

"Oh, wait," Art said, his eyes wide. Then he grinned. "You were out on a date with Bambi Crowder, weren't you? Man, I can't say I'm surprised by that."

Raylan's jaw dropped. "N - no! Art, why on earth would I be out with — I ain't got no business going out with Bambi."

"Mhmm," he hummed, eying Raylan carefully. He noticed how the tips of the younger man's ears turned red. "I'm not convinced."

"Goodbye, Art," Raylan huffed while storming out.

Art just chuckled and went after him while grabbing a coat and ball cap. "Wait. Wait. I've got one more thing to talk to you about. Walk with me," he requested, slowing Raylan down. "I got a call this morning from a trooper down in Harlan, Tom Bergen."

"Yeah. Helped us out with that Jimmy Earl Dean deal," Raylan recalled, thinking of the one that'd kidnapped Loretta.

"One of his troopers found an abandoned church bus out on Glen Hollow Road, and the sole remaining survivor had a hole in his head the size of a .38-caliber bullet."

Raylan shook his head sarcastically. "See, now, that's why I don't go to church."

"Well, you should start, but not with this one, 'cause apparently it doesn't exist," he explained. "Bus was stolen, and they found a receipt on the floor from a convenience store in Jacksonville, Florida."

"Oxy run?" he guessed.

"Mhmm. Probably on the return leg. Then it was hit by another set of criminals."

"Shit."

"You think it was him?" Art asked, both men thinking of one person — Boyd.

"Well, I don't know, what do you think?"

Art just shrugged. "I don't know, you told me he was playing it straight."

"It wouldn't be the first time he said one thing and did another. I'll give you a call when I get down to Harlan," Raylan said before backing toward the office.

"All right," Art said before stepping into the elevator. Before it could shut though, he had a thought. "Holy shit. Wait a minute.
I got it." Raylan looked at him with wide eyes. "Winona. If not Bambi, you were out with Winona."

Raylan couldn't even mask his guilty expression as Art laughed.

"Oh, shit. And I thought sleeping with a witness was stupid."

"Hey. No, no, no. Hey," Raylan said in a panicking tone. "It ain't like that."

"I really would like to know what it is like," he smirked.

"And I'd love to tell you, but right now my presence is needed in Harlan," he huffed before walking off.

"You're a thrill a minute, Raylan," Art said, chuckling. "We need to sell tickets."

✵︎

It was after school, and Bambi was at Ava's house. Since some new asshole got ownership of Johnny's bar, she didn't like going there to grade papers anymore. So, she opted to sit with her sister-in-law, figuring there'd be less interruptions.

Only for Raylan to interrupt them.

When the knock on the door sounded, both women came from the kitchen, him greeting them through the screen door.

"Hello, Ava, Bambi," he said, just earning a scoff from Ava and a smile from Bambi. Usually, he'd smile back, but all he could think about was her with Tim the night before. "Sorry just to stop by like this, but I need a minute."

"Okay," Ava shrugged. "What can I do for you, Raylan."

"Actually, I'm here for Boyd."

Ava raised an eyebrow in annoyance. "You see his truck?"

"I'm not familiar with his truck," he admitted.

Ava hummed and then grabbed the carton of cigarettes that she kept by the front door before letting herself outside. "Tell the truth. You come to my door to talk to Boyd or to ask me why he's living in my house?"

"I'm here on business, Ava," he insisted.

"Raylan, Bowman didn't leave me with much more than shitty memories and a balloon payment on a mortgage that I can't afford," she explained while walking past him. "Now, I work at the beauty parlor in Corbin, but it ain't hardly enough. And Boyd, he helps out. I know it's odd. But do you realize he and Bambi's the only kin I have left?"

Raylan had to refrain from rolling his eyes. "It sounds mutually beneficial." He didn't see why Bambi couldn't just live with Ava if she needed the money that bad. "Has he left for work?"

"We have an arrangement," Ava said instead of answering the question. "No liquor in the house. I was drinking way too much. Maybe you noticed. And no trouble with the law. He does anything I find the least bit offensive, I throw him out. It's really pretty simple."

"Let's see if he can listen," Bambi sighed, moving to sit on the railing.

Raylan came to stand next to her while looking at the blonde. "Ava, why I'm here... I'm looking into the possibility that he had a hand in hijacking an oxy bus, shooting a guard."

"Damn it, B," Bambi sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"There are these pill mills in Florida don't computerize records," Raylan tried to explain. "Dixie Mafia's been hiring busload of folks to go down to Broward County—"

"Yeah, I know what an oxy bus is. I read the papers," Ava cut him off snidely. "You think Boyd hijacked one?"

"I wouldn't be standing here otherwise," Raylan said honestly. He didn't want to make a habit of being around Ava given their history.

Ava just exhaled before chuckling. "Guess that explains Dewey being here."

Raylan raised an eyebrow, as did Bambi, who hadn't heard anything about that. "Dewey Crowe?" he asked. "He was here?"

"Mhmm. He and Boyd were arguing about something. I didn't pay much attention to what. Guess maybe I should have."

"Ava," Raylan said simply, getting a little impatient. She just hummed in response. "Anything you can tell me would be helpful."

"Boyd already left for his night shift. But he doesn't go straight to the mine. He stops at Audry's first. I'm sure you know where that is," she said smugly. "You probably lost your virginity there."

As Raylan rolled his eyes, Bambi just snickered, thinking of the whorehouse that no one bothered to shut down. It'd been running for years, though she was disgusted by the thought of her brother frequenting the place.

"Bye, Raylan," Bambi called as he went toward his car. "Good luck with him."

"I figure I'll need it," he called back.

✵︎

It was a while before Raylan even had time to think of Bambi and Tim. A week and a half passed without much interaction with either of the involved parties after Raylan solved the whole Oxy bus problem. But now, with a drink in hand and sitting on the couch in Art's office with Tim right next to him, Raylan was struggling to keep his mouth shut.

And he so desperately needed to because Rachel was going through a horrible time. Her brother-in-law, who had killed her sister in a car crash while high, had been involved in a man hunt that ended with Rachel shooting her first person ever. Her nephew got to see his father at the very least, who ended up turning himself over after enough of a fuss was made. Now, Art was pouring her a stiff drink as she talked about her family — a topic she usually avoided.

"When I was Nick's age, before my father's cancer, I thought we were the Cosbys. My parents had good jobs. There was a feast on the table, after church on Sundays. Shawnee and I would ride our huffys around the neighborhood. We had good hair and made straight A's," she listed before sighing. "Except, as my mother reminds me, that wasn't reality. The jobs weren't all that good, and my father was never a happy man, even before he got sick. And Shawnee was smoking pot at nine and running away to smoke heroin at fifteen."

Raylan and the other two watched her sympathetically as she sipped from her glass of bourbon. "I never bore any illusions that my family was the Cosbys," he said, trying to ease the tension, as everyone knew what his family was like.

"Your family wasn't funny," Art teased, making him snicker.

Tim rubbed the back of his neck and smirked at Raylan. "At least you got to shoot your father. Mine had the nerve to die before I got back from basic with skills and a loaded weapon."

"You didn't miss much. I thought it was gonna be way more fun than it was," Raylan admitted before taking in another mouthful of alcohol.

"I'll have to trust you on that," Tim said, shaking his head. Then he set his cup down. "I can't stay. Got a long drive coming."

Rachel peered at Tim, and Art noticed how Raylan clenched his jaw. "Tim, you live three blocks away," she reminded him.

Tim opened his mouth but then closed it, not really sure what to say. And so, Raylan broke the silence for him, speaking in a low and somewhat angry tone.

"Tim... are you fucking Bambi?"

Tim's eyes nearly popped out of his skull as he looked at Raylan in alarm. "Wh - what?"

Raylan sighed and set his glass down, intertwining his fingers afterward as he leaned in closer, glaring at Tim. "Are you - fucking - Bambi?"

Art and Rachel shared a silent look, both wanting to leave but also hear every single word with great detail.

"Raylan," Tim said nervously. "I don't know if now's the best time—"

"Ain't the best time 'cause you have plans to go to her place and fuck her?" he asked accusingly.

"I ain't—"

"Don't treat me like I'm stupid, Tim," he said in a hard tone, again cutting him off. "I wanna know why you haven't said anything."

Tim paused before sighing. "Well, I didn't see how it was any of your business," he admitted.

"It's my business because me and you are coworkers, and Bambi and me are... friends," he said, hating how the word 'friends' struggled to fall from his lips. "Close friends. And I don't know if I like the idea of you fooling around with her."

"Man, I ain't - I ain't just fooling around with her," Tim huffed. "I like her a lot. And I'd like to think she likes me. There ain't nothing wrong with what we're doing. I'm treating her right. Shouldn't that be all you want for her? Someone to treat her right?"

Raylan swallowed thickly, trying to keep his anger and annoyance at bay. Because goddamn, he didn't know why he felt like this. Tim was making perfect points, and realistically, Raylan should've been thrilled by the idea of them. But it just left a sour taste in his mouth.

"I want you to stay away from her," Raylan said stiffly, gripping his glass again tightly before downing it.

Tim's expression flickered between amusement — he didn't think Raylan was being for real — and genuine shock. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, deadly," Raylan said, standing up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gone be taking my drink to go, I think."

The three Marshals watched in shock as Raylan stormed out of the office, his shoulders tense. And no one dared to utter a syllable until Raylan was gone.

"Shit," Art muttered, looking at the door. "Clearly, Raylan didn't learn to share on the playground."

"She ain't his to share," Tim said, narrowing his eyes. "So what if she's his friend? Ain't nothing wrong with going after her."

"Um, I don't think Raylan wants her to be just his friend," Rachel said, tracing the rim of her glass with her fingertip. The boys looked at her in confusion, making her roll her eyes at their obliviousness. "Sounds like he likes Bambi a little more than he realizes."

"Oh, naw," Art said, shaking his head as Tim frowned. "No, he's hooking up with Winona."

"His married ex-wife?" Tim asked. "He's lecturing me on Bambi while he's helpin' her have another affair?"

"Well, we always figured he was stupid," Art joked, trying to lighten the mood. Then he studied a clearly conflicted Tim. "What are you gone do? Back off? Or keep at it?"

Tim huffed and glared at the ground. "I don't want this being a problem at work."

"Me either," Art agreed. "Wouldn't want it to affect y'all two workin' together."

"But Bambi likes me. I know that," he went on. "Even if Rachel is right, there's no indication she likes Raylan. And Raylan has Winona."

"All very true," Art nodded. "So, do you piss Raylan off and keep seeing Bambi? Or keep his hot-headed self happy and potentially piss a Crowder off? This is like Sophie's Choice."

Rachel frowned deeply. "Art, do you have any idea what the actual choice was in that movie?"

"No, never seen it. Figured it's about men. It ain't?"

"It's a little more serious than if Tim should pacify Raylan or not."