Someone There? 1/2

[paulacas]

Title: Someone There?
Fandom: Leverage/Justified
Artist: Phantisma
Author: YanzaDracan
Characters: Eliot Spencer/Raylan Givens; Eliot/Parker/Hardison; Leverage Team
Word Count: 10,213
Summary: See Masterpost for warnings, notes, and summaries

He had heard someone say that certain souls traveled together through many lives until they reached the point where there were no more lessons to learn. At the time he'd thought it was just so many horse apples, but now he wasn't quite so quick to dismiss such notions.

LEVERAGE/JUSTIFIED

He sat on the edge of the bed in an isolated cabin wondering why he'd suddenly become fate's bitch. The pressure bandage he was currently sporting around his middle attested to the fact that you should never challenge worse.

For Raylan Givens, Deputy US Marshall was on the lam. He had somehow stumbled into the chaos of mobbed up cops trying to kill a federal witness by buying one of the Marshall that were his escorts.

When he'd petitioned the gods in a moment of desperation, Eliot Spencer had appeared like an apparition through the haze of cordite, bodies falling like dominos until he had reached the wounded Marshall and a petrified witness.

LEVERAGE/JUSTIFIED

Listening intently, he heard nothing out of the ordinary so lifted his feet onto the bed and leaned against the head board his pistol lying beside his leg in case he was wrong.

The small groan of pain that escaped when he pulled his abdominal muscles reminded him that Eliot would be pissy as a nun in a whorehouse if he undid the retrieval specialist's work. He sewed as neat a stitch as his gram's embroidered handkerchiefs and bitched incessantly when someone ruined his work.

He laid his head back with a sigh. *Damn it to hell. This was supposed to be a milk run!* He thought as his eyes drifted closed, the suits way of keeping him out of sight while they dealt with the fallout of his shooting Tommy Bucks.

Raylan didn't know Randy Ames, the other Marshall or James Riley, their witness, other than what he'd read in him file. Riley had testified against some mobbed up cops in Boston. All he and Ames had to do was drop him off to his new handlers.

Neither Ames nor Riley had seemed surprised by the ambush and as Raylan leaned against the wall with Ames' bullet in his side, he watched Riley practically throw himself into Eliot Spencer's arms. Eliot neatly sidestepped the man, passing the babbling Riley off to the older man behind him while Eliot kneeled beside Raylan.

"Thought I told you to stay outta trouble, son?" Eliot smirked down at the wounded man.

"I tried, but fate keeps droppin' this shit in my lap." Raylan grinned. "Should I be tryin' to arrest you?"

"Naw. I'm one of the good guys, now."

Raylan answered that statement with a disbelieving snort that ended in a pained moan.

Eliot bent down and helped Raylan to his feet, checking the severity of the wound. He held his hand out behind him and didn't seem surprised when a willowy blonde slapped a field dressing into the waiting hand.

"How do you…?"

"Parker!"

"Right, going to look for more bad guys." Parker disappeared.

"Where…?" Raylan blinked then looked up to see her disappear over the edge of the roof.

His attention was brought back to earth when Eliot tightened the dressing.

"Son of a bitch!"

"Don't whine, man. Ain't conduct becomin' an officer of the law." Eliot taunted.

"The fuck ya know 'bout conduct becomin'?" Raylan growled.

Eliot helped him into a silver pickup sitting nearby giving him an impish grin.

"I'm so good at playin' a cop the real ones don't know the difference." He check the dressing one more time. "That should hold ya 'til we git where we're goin'."

"Where would that be?" Raylan gave him half glare.

Eliot gave him a smile that had always led to trouble in the years past.

"Eliot…"

"Chill, man. Just runnin' a little game."

They rode in a comfortable silence memories rolling along with the miles until Eliot noticed Raylan had fallen into a doze.

Eliot used to hate these little walks down memory lane when his and Raylan's paths crossed, but time had worn the sharp edges off the bad parts and accentuated the good.

LEVERAGE/JUSTIFIED

Arlo avoided work like a moonshiner avoided revenuers and Raylan learned early to scrounge odd jobs to add to what his Aunt Helen brought home from her job. The only time he resorted to the skills learned at his daddy's knee was to get into to test for his underground miner's card.

He'd go to school, come home, grab a quick bite to eat, and hurry out to second shift at the mine. By the time he graduated he was a black hat miner, working deep in the mine with the older men. With no money for college, Raylan moved to day shift after graduation.

Having trouble with one of the mining machines, Raylan went in search of Henry McCoy. He barreled through the door where he literally tripped over a kid in the tool shed. The mine was always hiring high school kids as gofers in the summer, so Raylan paid him no mind.

"Where's Henry?" Raylan snapped, in a hurry to catch the next car into the mine.

"Right here, Givens. Leave the boy be." Henry came from behind a shelf of parts.

"Got no time to be trippin' over yer runners."

"Relax, boy. That coal's been there fer millions of years and you git paid by the hour same as me. Now what's got your knickers in a knot?" The master mechanic crossed his arms over his chest.

Face reddened by the quiet dressing down, Raylan slanted a glance at the kid, but the teen had turned back to his work when Henry had stepped between them.

"One of miners we're usin' while they move the long wall keeps havin' fits and starts. Jake wants you come down and take a look."

"Fits and starts don't tell me a lot, Raylan." Henry relaxed against his work bench.

Henry listened while Raylan described the trouble with the machine. The mechanic turned to issue orders to his helper, only to see what he needed sitting ready. Giving a chuckle, Henry turned back to the impatient miner.

"Raylan Givens…Randall Elliott, my mind readin' apprentice for the summer.

"Elliott? You daddy the one that…" Raylan paused at the sharp look from Henry and the growl he heard.

"Yeah." The teen turned away.

"Rand, grab your gear. I'm gonna need another set of hands if I'm right about that cantankerous rip of a minin' machine." Henry sighed as he picked up a box of parts and shoved them at Raylan. "Make yerself useful, son." He turned to holler for Randall only to find himself standing just outside arms' reach. "Boy, ya gotta quit doin' that." He muttered.

"Yessir." He grinned shyly at the older man before gathering their supplies and heading to the truck.

Raylan's breath caught in his chest as Randall's face came into the light. Henry's chuckle behind him caused Raylan to close his jaw with a snap.

"Got his mama's looks and quick mind, but his daddy's temper and hard head."

"He can't be old enough to be here." Raylan snarked.

Henry gave him an exasperated look.

"Ya got no room to talk, Givens."

"I had good reasons." He sounded sulky.

"Yeah, well, dyin' a hero don't make yer widow rich."

He grinned at the older man.

"Ya makin' time with Widow Elliott, Henry?"

"She's a good woman, Raylan Givens and that boy over there done the work of three men to help his mama keep body and soul together." Henry snapped. "You and Rand might have a lot more in common than ya know." He stalked off to the truck.

By the time Henry and Randall got the temperamental piece of equipment running properly, Raylan decided to ask Arlo what he remembered about Randall's father. Around the time of the accident was one of the few times Arlo held an honest job. Raylan's mama had taken one of her 'spells' as she called them and Arlo had actually worked at the mine long enough to have health insurance. Raylan wanted to see what his old man remembered about the accident.

When he came through the door his Aunt Helen had just put supper on the table.

"Arlo?"

She jerked her head toward the back porch.

"He's pretty well into his cups. Was out talkin' to yer mama."

They ate without the older man, Helen going on about the gossip that came through the hardware store. When she started to stand to clear the table, Raylan stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Aunt Helen, you remember the accident what killed Tom Elliott?"

"Need ta ask yer daddy. He was one of the men Tom saved that day." Dread filled Raylan. "Mood he's in tonight, he'll probably even tell it. It's like everyone involved took a vow of silence 'bout the whole thing." She started to clear dishes from the table. Raylan helped before going in search of his father.

Arlo sat in 'his' chair, jar of moonshine at his feet, cigarette dangling from his lips, as he watched the ghosts only he could see. He came back to the present when Raylan grabbed the jug and splashed some in his coffee cup.

"You seekin' me out, boy, ya must want more than a slug a shine." Arlo snapped.

"Matter of fact, I do. Since yer visitin' with yer ghosts tonight I want ya ta tell me about the accident that killed Tom Elliott. Aunt Helen says he saved yer life." Raylan prompted.

"Why ya wanna know 'bout that?" Arlo's eyes glittered with suspicion.

"Ran into his boy today at the mine."

Arlo's eyes got wide. "The mine? Boy was always wild as a deer. Surprised they git 'im inside, let alone underground."

"Henry says he gives it all to his mama."

"Ya don't say?" He filled his glass with corn liquor. "Boy's like you. Got his mama's heart." Arlo mumbled, "was always caterin' to her when she was pregnant with his sister."

"All of four, but he was good at it." Arlo's voice took on a dreamlike quality as he moved through the past. "Randall was six and Delilah was two when Tom died. Saved mine and ten other's men's lives that day." Arlo stopped to light a cigarette.

"What happened?" Raylan kept his voice low and stayed very still.

"Night before the explosion I'd stopped at the bar for a cold one to clear the dust outta my throat. Jim, Frank and a bunch of the boys had a poker game goin' in the back. They invited me to sit in a few hands. Helen was sittin' with you and your mama so I decided to indulge a little. Pretty soon it was closin' time. I couldn't let nothin' happen to that insurance so I drove back to the mine so's to not be late and slept in the truck 'til time fer my shift." He emptied his glass and poured another.

Raylan braced himself.

"We'd moved the long wall machine out the week before and was usin' the miners to take out the pillars. Tom had gone back to take readings, and check out the section of bad top to make sure the cribs and shorin' were holdin'. I don't know what happened…I got distracted…dozed off…" Arlo drew a deep breath, "next thing I know Tom's yellin', alarms are blarin', the men's runnin', draggin' me along while somehow Tom's usin' the miner to hold the fallin' ceilin' away from us. The only thing they could figure was the miner had bumped some of the cribbin' causin' that part of the ceiling to fall too soon. They never could git back in that part of the mine. The water came in when the bad top came down."

Arlo filled his glass, stepped off the porch and wandered into his dead wife's rose garden murmuring low.

Raylan refilled his own cup and settled on the porch swing letting his mind absorb what he'd heard watching dusk settle over Harlan.

LEVERAGE/JUSTIFIED

Raylan spent the rest of the summer trying to befriend Randall. He came to understand what his daddy meant when he said Randall was wild as a deer.

He never seemed to be able to catch Randall at the mine, so he took to driving by the house after work. The Elliott's living on the edge of town made it seem more like stalking.

Sharon Elliott worked as a critical care and surgical nurse at the hospital so that mostly left Randall to look after his sister.

Finally one Friday Delilah was sitting on the front porch, so he pulled in the driveway.

"Help you?" Her toned was polite enough, but Raylan caught a flash of suspicion cross her face.

"Raylan Givens, Miss...I'm lookin' for Randall. We both work up at the mine..."

She didn't relax.

Rand's 'round back cleanin' supper." the girl waved vaguely before darting back inside.

*Guess Rand wasn't the only one barely domesticated.*

He thought as he walked around the house…to see the brown haired girl hovering around her brother.

"Raylan." Randall watched him carefully. "Something happen at the mine?"

"No. Just thought I'd stop by, have a cold one, chew the fat a little."

Both teens relaxed. Randall nodded to Delilah who came back with a couple beers. He handed her a plate and said a few quiet words to her. She paused then nodded, smiling shyly.

He was surprised when Randall turned, handed him a beer and with a half smile invited him to supper.

"Hope you like rabbit?" Randall commented as he moved into the kitchen.

"I think there's some kinda law that says if ya live in Harlan ya gotta like rabbit, or they escort you to the county line." Raylan chuckled as he settled at the kitchen table.

He watched Randall move through the kitchen like a dance as he continued to make small talk.

"Where'd you learn to do all this?" Raylan finally asked.

"Rand took Home Ec." Raylan jumped as Delilah moved behind him to set the table while teasing her brother.

"Home Ec?" Raylan's eyebrows rose toward his hairline.

"There was this girl…" Randall blushed as he continued chopping vegetables.

"Becky Harper." Delilah moved with the same grace as her brother.

"Men have done worse things for dumber reasons." Raylan defended.

"I don't see you turnin' yer nose up at my cookin'." Randall swatted playfully at his sister.

"Are you kidding? I'm the envy of all my friends. My brother is the epitome of a modern man."

Everything stopped when the siblings looked toward the front of the house waiting like spaniels on point. Randall relaxed first turning back to the food he was placing in a hot pack. Delilah's head swiveled between her brother and the front door.

"Henry's comin' for Mama's supper." Randall assured her.

Randall turned to see the question in Raylan's eyes as Delilah bounced over to the door.

"Henry's pickup needs an overhaul. The valves make a very distinct sound." Answering the next question before Raylan could ask Randall continued. "We had some trouble with Crowder's bunch a while back." He continued with his supper preparations, but offered no further explanation.

The spread was impressive and Raylan was anxious to sample Randall's cooking. He was savoring his first bite of rabbit…

"Come on Sleeping Beauty, wakey, wakey." Randall's voice growled.

Raylan started, banging his head against the truck window. It couldn't be Rand…Rand was dead and left in his place…

LEVERAGE/JUSTIFIED

"Raylan Givens don't make me haul yer lanky ass in the house." Eliot growled.

Raylan started to move before remembering his side. The reawakened pain left him gasping. Contrary to his growling, Eliot appeared at the truck door to help the injured marshal inside.

He led Raylan to the kitchen where he had set up to remove the bullet from his side.

"Didn't know you took to doctorin'?" Raylan grinned drunkenly. "What was in them pills?"

"The good stuff." Eliot started stripping the wiry body of its clothing. Raylan tried to move away.

"Movin' a little fast there, Cowboy. We haven't seen each other since I signed my divorce papers and yer tryin' to git me naked before we're in the door."

Eliot rolled his eyes and began gently squeezing a pressure point that soon had Raylan unconscious and naked on the kitchen table.

"You'll be glad you missed this part." Eliot cleaned the wound and began probing for the bullet.

LEVERAGE/JUSTIFIED

He was warm, dry and fairly comfortable but for a nagging ache that felt like a stitch in his side. His watch and gun were lying on the bedside stand, the illuminated hands showing 9:17. It was dark outside the small window so he'd only lost six hours. He needed to get up and find out how big a pile of shit he'd fallen into this time, and the next time someone said the words 'milk run' to him he was going to punch them square in the mouth.

He started to sit up, but the minute his movement engaged his oblique muscles, he decided the big, comfortable bed he was lying on was a perfect place for him.

Eliot moved silently through the darkened room, the back of a calloused hand resting lightly on the sleeping man's face, making sure a fever hadn't started. Satisfied he left the house to give the perimeter one last check before his scheduled check in with Hardison.

LEVERAGE/JUSTIFIED

Raylan fidgeted with his tie. He heard a raspy chuckle from behind.

"You'd think you were the one gittin' married." Randall teased.

He adjusted the tie one more time before turning to face the younger man.

"You put in yer notice, yet?" Raylan asked.

Randall scowled. "Yeah. Startin' Monday I'm only workin' at the stables." He ran his hand through the short curls lying riot over the top of this head.

"Yeah well, I'm jist glad this is the only summer I'm trippin over ya. Little runt like you didn't need to be there anyway. You're better off working for Willie. Ya always were 'bout half wild as them yearlings of his."

Eliot actually blushed. "It put food on the table, man."

Raylan threw his arm around the strong shoulders that had broadened over the summer of hard work between the mine and the stables.

"Yer mama and I will both rest easier." He squeezed before releasing Randall to move toward the door.

The two had become close over the summer, but Randall was still waters running deep. Every time Raylan thought he had him figured out, Randall would say or do something to send that certainty up in flames.

He'd pulled up to the house to ask Randall if he wanted to go fishing. He'd waved at Delilah weeding the flower beds as he headed around the back. Raylan started to call out to Randall when the younger man bent to pick up the next piece of wood to split.

Sunlight hit full on the tan back highlighting thin silver stripes across the broad expanse. He was so shocked that when Delilah yanked the back of his belt, pulling him around the corner of the house, he didn't resist.

Always aware of his surroundings, Randall stopped in mid-swing to see what had caught his attention. Not seeing anything out of place he figured it was Del and went back to splitting wood.

"Del…? What in tarnation was that?" Raylan started back toward Randal to demand answers about the scars.

"Raylan! Wait!" The pleading tone made him stop.

"Del…"

"I'll tell ya, butcha can't say nothin' to Randall…or anyone."

"But his back…"

Delilah pulled him further from the corner of the house.

"It happened his sophomore year." Delilah sat on the porch step pulling Raylan with her. "Randall tried out for the football team. Coach picked him and Beaumont Crowder for the varsity team. Randall was gonna be quarterback and Beau wide receiver." Delilah wrapped her arms around her middle as she huddled against the memories.

"Remember Boyd sayin' somethin' 'bout that, but all of a sudden Beau was quarterback and Boyd got quiet 'bout it." Raylan prompted.

"That's 'cos Rand quit the team."

"Why?"

"It's hard to throw a football when yer back's cut open." She chewed her bottom lip. "I turned thirteen that year and it was like Mother Nature worked overtime and when school started all the boys that never give me the time of day were suddenly everywhere." She paused.

"Includin' Beaumont Crowder." Raylan guessed.

"Yeah. We tried to steer clear the Crowders, but they seemed everywhere that year, and when Rand beat Beau out of the quarterback spot…he's got such a terrible temper." She whispered.

"Delilah," Raylan reached for her hand, "did Beau hurt you?"

"No…they didn't get the chance. They forgot how close Rand watches over me. They took me to an old tobacco barn over the hill from the diner. They had just pulled me out of the truck when Rand got there. He was so angry it was scary. He tore into them like one of those action guys in the movies, but there were too many of them. I don't know everything 'cos once they were after Rand, I ran. I know that's what he wanted me to do…So I ran as fast as I could for the diner. The waitress wouldn't let me us the phone 'til I told her why I wanted to call the police. Boyd and Johnny were in the diner eatin' lunch. Johnny thought it was funny, but Boyd knew what would happen to Beau's chances for a scholarship if word got out he kidnapped an underage girl and beat up her brother. Johnny wasn't gonna help 'til Boyd threatened to tell the old man." She looked up to see if Randall had appeared then dropped her voice to a whisper.

"By the time we got back to the barn they had Randall hangin' from the barn beam naked and bloody." She choked.

"That's 'bout the time Beau thought he was Indiana Jones and had all them whips." Raylan half remembered. "What happened?"

"Beau's friends ran. They were 'fraid of Boyd with all his crazy church talk. When they let go the ropes, Randall fell to the floor. Johnny helped me find what was left of Rand's clothes and wrap him in a blanket while Boyd argued with Beau. Boyd took us home while Johnny took Beau. He helped me get Randall cleaned up 'til the Doc came and stitched up the worst of the gashes and gave us salve for the rest. Boyd made him swear not to tell Mama, then said he'd be back in a few days. Few days later him and Beau Senior were back with enough money to us quiet."

"How much? How much do you pay someone to take that kind of punishment?" Raylan asked hoarsely.

"Enough." A gravel voice made them both jump guiltily. "You've said enough Del." He frowned heavily at his sister.

"Rand…" Raylan started, but Randall was already moving back around the house.

Raylan gave chase. "Dammit, Rand! If she hadn't told me I would have hounded ya 'til ya did!"

Randall studied Raylan. Raylan never moved or looked away. Randall must have seen what he was looking for because his posture relaxed.

"Old Man Crowder paid me enough to put Delilah through college."

Raylan gasped. "Did Beau…"

Randall interrupted before he could finish the thought. "NO!" He took a breath. "That was probably next on the agenda, but Boyd and Johnny got there first."

That afternoon seemed to cement their friendship. What started as a favor to an old friend was becoming stronger and more confusing to Raylan every day. He wasn't sure what to do with all the things he was feeling, but there was a wedding to get through before anything could be settled.

LEVERAGE/JUSTIFIED

Henry McCoy was retiring. He wasn't that old, but he had his thirty years. He and Sharon talked about selling their houses in Harlan and moving to Lexington for Delilah's last years of high school. Delilah was thrilled…Randall was silent.

A few days after his 19^{th birthday, Raylan Givens served as Henry McCoy's best man when he married Sharon Elliott, who was given away by her children, Randall and Delilah. The couple was honeymooning in Nashville leaving said children to fend for themselves.}

Delilah was doing a sleepover with friends for the weekend, and Randall and Raylan were relaxing on the back porch with a cooler of beer talking about everything and nothing. Every so often Raylan would inject bits of his thoughts and feelings, watching Randall's reactions carefully.

It was nearing midnight when Randall's patience ran out. He moved over to where Raylan was stretched out on the chaise lounge, threw a leg over and lowered himself into Raylan's lap.

"This whatcha been hintin' at all night, boy?" Randall bent down and captured the full bottom lip between his teeth before moving on to capture Raylan's mouth in a gentle but th0rough kiss.

They rested their foreheads together, panting softly after Randall released his mouth.

"Rand?"

Randall pulled back enough to see the whiskey colored eyes full of lust tinged with confusion. He smiled softly.

"Been wantin' to do that for a while."

"A while. I just realized…"

"Sit up and let me git yer shirt off." Randall demanded.

"What!?"

"Sit up and let me take yer shirt off." Randall repeated.

Raylan started to panic. Things were moving way too fast.

LEVERAGE/JUSTIFIED

"Raylan settle down. Yer gonna pull yer stitches, ya damn fool." Eliot growled.

Raylan blinked several times. "Rand?"

"No. It's Eliot. You were shot and I need to take a look at yer stitches."

"Eliot?" He rubbed his hands over his face.

The memories came back in a rush. Riley, Ames, bad cops, dirty Marshall, Eliot coming through the smoke like an avenging angel, Riley disappearing with a bunch of people he didn't know, a cabin somewhere in the middle bumfuck somewhere. He pulled off his shirt.

"Why are we wherever it is we are?" He asked as Eliot pulled the bandage off his side.

"We're a couple hours west of Boston." He examined the wound for signs of infection. Satisfied he cleaned the sight and put a fresh bandage on then waterproofed it so Raylan could shower. "I'll fill ya in after yer awake and fed."

With that pronouncement he was left alone. Between his dream memories of Randall and Eliot's behavior he was confused, his emotions churning. Giving up trying to settle everything, he stripped off and headed to the bathroom. When he came out fresh clothes lay on the bed and the smells filling the cabin reminded him it'd been a long time since he last ate.

The large room was empty, but the pot sitting on the wood cook stove enticed him. Filling a bowl he settled at the table where chunks of sourdough bread just begged to be soaked with Eliot's beef stew. The rhythmic sounds of someone splitting wood let him know Eliot was close allowing him to begin to relax and reorder his thoughts.

He settled on the sofa with a tumbler of Jack he found in the cabinet waiting for Eliot to quit hiding and bring him up to speed on what happened. He had fallen into a light doze when the latch on the door startled him awake. Reaching for his gun, he cursed when he realized he'd left it in the bedroom.

Eliot threw his armload in the wood box then brushed the remaining chips and sawdust off his jacket. Shedding his coat and gloves, he headed for the stove and his own supper. Moving gingerly, Raylan joined him at the table.

"'Spose you want me ta talk now?" Eliot snagged another piece of bread.

"It'd be a mite helpful." Raylan drawled.

Eliot arched his eyebrow at the Marshall's sarcasm, continued his meal. He made Raylan wait until the kitchen was clean before grabbing a beer and settling in the overstuffed chair where he could watch Raylan and the fireplace.

"It's pretty simple. We're bait. Since you're upright and fairly functional I'll call and release the hounds. When they find us I round 'em up then clear out before the Feds get here to haul 'em off."

"Simple…bait…what the hell ya got goin' here Spencer!?" Raylan jumped up to pace, but the pull on his side put him back on the couch.

"Just a little fox and hounds." He walked over to pull up Raylan's t-shirt and check his bandage. "Besides there's nothin' on yer calendar 'til they ship yer ass back to Kentucky."

"WHAT!?" He fell back again as his temper pulled his stitches again.

"Dammit, Raylan, quit pulling on them stitches. Yer messin' up some of my best work. You don't have to do much in this game-sit there and try not to git shot…again."

"How do you know I'm goin' back to Kentucky?" He ground out between clenched teeth.

"I have ways of findin' stuff." Eliot hedged. "It is what I do."

He wasn't about to tell a US Marshall that Hardison hacked his file when they found out who would be escorting their client, Riley into witness protection.

He really shouldn't have told Raylan, but he didn't want his old friend getting blindsided. Raylan hadn't been back to Kentucky since he had run when he was nineteen. The irony that Raylan's ex-wife had been a Kentucky girl, and was now living in Lexington where Raylan would be based had made Eliot chuckle when Hardison had rattled off the information.

Before his thoughts could go any further, Eliot pulled the t-shirt down and moved away, satisfied that Raylan's agitation hadn't torn any of his stitches.

He picked up his coat and headed for the door.

"Eliot?" Raylan questioned.

"Perimeter check." His growl was short.

Before the door closed Raylan heard-"Get some rest. The game starts in the morning."

Confused by Eliot's behavior, Raylan leaned over elbows on his knees as he digested the information about his new assignment being Kentucky. He knew the ol' boy that ran the Lexington office. Chief Deputy Art Mullen was the no bullshit kinda guy that Raylan didn't mind working under. Rubbing his hands over his face as the adrenaline finally drained away, he found he was exhausted.

He wanted to wait and see if he could coax any more information from Eliot, but knew the retrieval specialist would stubbornly stay outside until exhaustion won out and Raylan went to bed. He chuckled quietly as he headed for the bedroom, amazed at how well they seemed to know each other though they only ran into each other every couple years.

He'd toed his boots off and was getting ready to shuck his jeans when he was struck by a thought. Eliot always seemed to appear at the low points in Raylan's life. The first time he killed a person in the line of duty, first time he was shot, when he and Winona separated, the day he signed his divorce papers, and now Eliot was covering his back again.

Sometimes there were no words between them. There was only rough hands, strong arms, bruises, bites, pleasure that sometimes tipped over into pain that covered the wounds life inflicted. Sometimes there were only words and smooth Kentucky bourbon and commiseration followed by tenderness that made Raylan wonder who, was Eliot Spencer, really?

As Raylan drifted to sleep he hoped he wouldn't be having another Ebenezer Scrooge night.

LEVERAGE/JUSTIFIED