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Chief Deputy Rachel Brooks steps off the bus and looks around in disbelief. Of all the places they could have wound up she really does have a hard time getting her head around this one. The bus stop is more of a layby, she can see several fruit vendors, and a small van selling ice cream, but no errant former deputy marshals.
“Damn, it’s hot.” Her old retired chief’s voice practically echoes in her ear, “do you see them?”
Rachel tries not to notice the grumpy tone in Art’s voice. Lesley wanted the trip and Rachel decided to come with them, because Tim and Raylan were not coming back Stateside anytime soon. When Tim resigned, accompanied by a very long and detailed Doctor’s letter that indicated that they were uncertain of Tim’s long term ability to handle a rifle due to the damage to the bone, Rachel had been stunned.
She pulls herself together and looks around. “Not yet I don’t.”
“RACHEL!” yells a voice.
Rachel spins round, Tim is walking towards them. She stares. He’s lean and fit, which he always was, but now he has a deep tan, his blue eyes seem bluer, and when he takes his cap off, his neatly cropped hair has been bleached a lighter shade of gold by the sun.
He pulls her in for a hug, which is also quite new on the Tim front, he wasn’t particularly tactile before. She’s surprised but she returns his hug with a fervor of her own. Rachel realized already that she has missed them, until Tim was there in front of her she hadn’t really understood how much.
They break apart, and Tim greets Art and Lesley, Rachel is glad to see that Art’s grumpiness has dissipated at the sight of Tim. She figures that Art was always fond of the sniper. No, the big mountain they have to climb is Raylan. Speaking of whom…
Rachel scans the stop, “where is he?”
Tim grins. “Working.”
She remembers that grin. The way the blue eyes sparkle, makes Tim look the young guy that he is, without all the war zone input and sniping and the death and destruction that brings. He’s still the battle-hardened veteran, but there’s a lightness to him that is new.
Tim’s picking up their bags, and indicating his own vehicle.
Art and Rachel are used to the grungy mess that was Raylan’s personal vehicle, the old green pickup, but Tim was always one for immaculate cars. The Land Rover he’s leading them to has definitely seen better days.
Art looks at the truck, looks at Tim and shakes his head in disbelief. Apparently his errant former deputy’s ways have rubbed off on his youngest. “Tim…”
The former sniper smirks a little. “Not actually my vehicle, and it ain’t Raylan’s either… Couldha picked y’all up in our car, but don’t think y’all an’ y’luggage would fit.”
They climb in, and Tim goes through a routine that puzzles them, but the old truck seems to understand it, as it bursts into life.
The vehicle is smooth enough, despite it’s obvious advanced age, but the interior is Spartan to say the least.
Art’s more than a little surprised to see signs to Pompeii, and says as much. “We both work there,” says Tim. Both Rachel and Art stare. “We kinda fell into it. By accident.”
The familiar puzzled look crosses Art’s face. “How exactly do you fall into working on an archaeological dig? Especially you two.” If there’s the tiniest hesitation before he says the word two, the others pretend not to notice.
“You just kinda join, and then they like you and you stay.” Tim says simply. Not the whole truth, but accurate. Especially when your lover’s doctor’s brother takes you to lunch the day before your lover’s released from hospital, and things just snowball from there. They have their visas, and so far they haven’t looked back.
Tim pulls the truck up in a gap between a very small bright yellow car and a grey Audi, behind a group of temporary buildings that are obviously for the workers.
Rachel, Art and Lesley follow Tim as he heads in the direction of the front entrance. They pass a dark haired, shirtless man with a hard hat and wheelbarrow.
“Antonio, dove si trova?” Tim calls.
“Tim, your accent, she is horrible.” The Italian grins, and waves his hand “dove si trova.” His version is said without the country boy twang that Tim still has. “And Ray is over there.” He waves a hand.
“They call him Ray, seems they can’t really get their tongues around Raylan.”
Art stares straight ahead, now that he’s here he really isn’t sure. Things between him and Raylan were real bad. Then Raylan was knifed and shot, and for weeks they didn’t know if he would even make it. Art regrets letting the sun set upon his anger, but he couldn’t see a way past the hurt.
Now he’s here, and up ahead of him he can see a group of people, tourists, and a familiar cowboy hat. The group starts to break up, and as they move away, Art gets the first sight of Raylan Givens that he’s had in fifteen months.
The cowboy is perhaps a little underweight, but he’s deeply tanned like Tim, and he looks good.
Raylan’s hair is long, he’s nodding and smiling at something an older lady is saying to him, and he lifts the hat, Art gets a view of the ponytail. A year ago, that would have made Art crazy, but he’s so relieved to see Raylan alive and on his feet, his anger melts away.
Raylan looks up and sees them, and Art’s heart breaks just a little at the wary expression which crosses Raylan’s face before it’s smoothed away. Art steps forward, going in for the hug. There’s no hesitancy now, and Art feels another little pang as he realizes that his estimate that Raylan is underweight is correct, and that this is about as good as it is going to get for the cowboy.
He pushes back a little, his hands on Raylan’s shoulders, “you a tour guide?”
The look in Raylan’s eyes speaks volumes. “Yeah, they seem to like me!”
There’s something on the tip of Art’s tongue to mention the absence of guns, but shooting is too raw a subject for either of them now.
Rachel pulls Raylan close. She can feel the weight loss, but otherwise the cowboy seems healthy. She knows that it’s Raylan’s doctor, and Tim’s gentle care that keep Raylan’s health in check. Even as they are getting reacquainted, Tim produces a couple of tablets and a glass of water. Raylan takes them without fuss, the look in his eyes so loving, Rachel wipes away an errant tear.
She takes a moment to compose herself, watching Art and Raylan warily get reacquainted.