A/N: Justified just started on FX and I was thrilled to see more of Timothy Olyphant. I have thought he was hot since I saw Hitman a while ago (see my Hitman story under Games/Hitman) so it only seemed natural to write a little story about his character Raylan Givens. We don't know much about him yet since there has only been three episodes, but this little diddy just didn't leave my mind so here it is.

Justified: Silly Girl…

Chapter 1

I love this time of night. I was showered and relaxed in my oversized Dallas Cowboys jersey. The kids are in bed, the staff is tucked away in their various quarters, and silence descends on the farm. Well, relative silence. I can still hear the occasional whinny of one of the horses settling into sleep, the soft hooting of the owls that live in the trees in and surrounding us, the snores of the puppies at my feet. The silence is so deep I can even hear the crackle of paper wrapped around my clove cigarette as it burns and the clink of the ice melting in my glass of Jim Beam's Baker. Some nights the grounds lit by the plethora of stars we could see being so far out from any other light or the moon that cast a white glow over the trees, pool, and barns. Tonight, that light was obstructed by the clouds that dropped the gentle rain settling over the grounds. And that was good too.

Even as I listened, and smoked, and drank I knew I was waiting for something. Before I never waited; I never hoped or expected, but now, foolishly I waited. I couldn't even fool myself that I wasn't waiting, because I was. My cell phone lay quiet by my side. I never used my cell phone. Maybe five people in the world had the number and knew not to call it unless I didn't answer my house phone first. But here it was, mocking me in its own silence.

I met U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens a month ago. That long, tall drink of water climbed out of his black government issue suburban, cowboy hat and boots and my first thought was "Wow!" My next thought was "Shit! The Marshal's are here. Clive's escaped or something." My two kids developed an instant curiosity about the tall man in the big black car. My son Michael, because he carried a gun and had a "cool" badge I was to learn later. I suppose all little boys, even big boys, are kinda fascinated by the guns and fancy badges with stars on it, even four year olds. And Natalie, my two and a half year old daughter was even worse. She didn't even pretend to be shy, which she isn't, but she sometimes uses as a 'strategy' if she knew what one was. She went right up to him from the porch where we had been having our afternoon snack after swimming and stood there with her little hands crossed in one of those little girl cutsey-pie sort of ways, her curling hair falling to the side as she tilted her head up at him and smiled, a teasing, seductive sort of smile, but that had to be my imagination. She was only a baby afterall!

I could tell he wasn't a man who had been around many children, and mine were more talkative and eager than many. We didn't get too much company out this way, so other than the usual suspects they were used to, this man in the worn cowboy hat and boots, wearing a necktie with a dark denim shirt really was a curiosity. But, he took all the questions and attention in stride and even got down to the kids' level to talk to them and introduce himself. Michael apparently asked to see his badge and the man kindly let him have it to look at. He asked them both their names and asked if they could take him to see their mom. Michael and Nat led the way to the porch steps where I stood leaning against one of the columns, watching the scene play out. I laughed slightly as the two kids never seemed to take a breath and the man seemed to just absorb it all in due course.

I found myself standing in front of the most attractive man I might have ever met. His beard was slightly grizzled looking and his eyes were piercingly green. He was tan and clearly well built from the fit of his jeans and shirt, even with the holster and jacket. I remember thinking at the time that he must be warm under all that extra clothing. It was late spring in Kentucky afterall.

He put his hand out to introduce himself to me, "I'm U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens, m'am. I'm lookin' for Mrs. Clive Willis?" His voice was gravelly, deep, and yet soft.

"Well, I never went by that name but I 'spose I would be her. My name is Gracie Mae Hamilton." I shook his hand and kept my eyes locked with his. I swear my heart skipped a beat when he gave me a soft smile. "Marshal Givens, you have me at a disadvantage I'm afraid. We've been in the pool all day as you can probably tell. I wasn't expecting visitors," I said as I foolishly tried to do something with my wet hair. And it didn't help that I was exposed so much in my bikini top, sarong, and bare feet.

I guess he must have sensed my discomfort. "Ms. Hamilton, I'm sorry I came unannounced like this. If you want, you can go up and change if you'd feel better. I should have called first. I just didn't think." He seemed a little embarrassed as well. That made me think 'nice guy.'

I am beautiful. I know it but I don't ever flaunt it or use it. I was raised to be gracious to everyone, modest in dress and language, and reserved about most everything else. And here I stood, half-naked in front of a very attractive fully clothed man. To say I was uncomfortable was an understatement.

I nodded at his apology, "Well then Marshal, if you will excuse me I'll just run up and change and then you can deliver what I am sure is very bad news. A personal call from the Marshal service doesn't happen every day, and since I'm pretty certain I haven't broken any laws and am not on your 15 Most Wanted List, I'm guessing it has to do with Clive."

I hadn't completely forgotten my manners and suggested he sit at the table under the ceiling fan and I poured him some iced tea. Then I brought the kids inside with me while he waited outside.

When I returned 15 minutes later, showered and changed into a light sundress, he had his elbows leaning on the porch railing watching the horses being put through their moves in the corral a bit away from the house. I noticed he had taken his jacket and hat off and rolled up his sleeves. His forearms were tanned and muscular, his hair dark and careless. I just couldn't help noticing.

I refilled my tea glass and walked bare foot over to where he stood. "That colt you're watching will be a Derby winner in a few years. His name is Russian Roulette, and he comes from two previous Derby winners who have multiple winners on both of their sides."

"Have you bred many winners here at Ironworks?" He asked as he turned to look at me. I felt myself flush as he looked me up and down. His expression remained neutral but I could still see the heat in his eyes. Whoa, silly girl, you are starting to read way too much into this guy. You don't know him and probably won't want to.

I leaned on the railing next to him and watched the horse making his tracks. I was silent for a moment before answering. For some reason, standing next to him in his big quiet way, I didn't feel an urgency to talk. "In the past 100 years or so, we've had our share of Derby and Triple-Crown winners."

He kept watching the horse as he slowly nodded his head. He remained quiet and I did as well. The silence between us was interrupted by two running and growling puppies tumbling over each other to reach us. I turned and watched them run and fall over themselves in that clumsy way puppies do. As they approached I bent down to the ground and they both leaped into my arms, squirming and licking. I stood and laughingly faced Raylan. "I'd like you to meet my other two children, Ice and Tea." He laughed as he took the red Cavalier King Charles spaniel into his arms.

"This one must be Tea."

"Yep, and this one is Ice. They are little barrels of energy, but fortunately my kids keep them pretty busy and they all tire each other out."

He smiled as he put Tea on the ground. I thought he did so a little regretfully. He walked back to the table and helped himself to more iced tea and turned to face me. "Unfortunately, this isn't a social call, although this has been nice." I nodded in agreement and rejoined him at the table. "Your ex-husband escaped from prison early this morning. He killed a guard and he is armed. We need to put you and your family into protection until we apprehend him."

I felt myself pale as he said that Clive had escaped. When I met Clive, he was a doctor with a good reputation. Who knew that under that good looking, good 'ol boy exterior lurked the heart of a sociopath? Clive had eventually been charged, tried, and convicted of drug trafficking, possession, conspiracy to commit murder, and had committed a few crimes he hadn't been charged with. What I had once seen as love for me had actually turned out to be obsession, full-blown, terrifying, jealous obsession. When he was sent away for 80 years without parole, my life of fear had come to an end.

"He's out." I said completely without emotion.

"Yes m'am. I'm sorry." Raylan's voice had gotten very soft. "You know he is a danger to you and your family. We need to protect you until we catch him again."

"You don't think he would just leave town, leave the country, disappear? Wouldn't that be in his best interest? Clive was always about what was in his best interest."

Raylen looked me straight in the eye, assessing how much I could take I guess, and must have decided that I needed to know everything. He reached into his pocket and pulled out snapshots and laid them on the table in front of me. "We found these in his cell. He's only been inside about 3 ½ years and he has quite a collection. He's been following you in every newspaper article, charity and horse racing event. I'd say he's still obsessed with you."

I stared at the pictures. It was my life as drawn out in black and white. I could tell he had even Googled me to find some pretty arcane stuff…stuff I didn't even know was out there. "And nothing of our children?"

"No. There isn't anything out there on them. From what I could tell, you keep them completely out of the public eye apparently and do a very good job of it. I don't think he even knows what they look like. But there is no way to tell. He could have someone on the outside watching, but if that were the case I think we would have found more."

"Clive was never interested in them anyway. It was always about him." My voice wasn't bitter to my ears, just more dead sounding. I had long since given up my anger about this, but my fear could still be brought back with a mention of his name. "So, Marshal Givens…what are you thinkin'?"

"Well, first of all, I'm thinkin' you should call me Raylan." Raylan has this self-deprecating way he slightly lifts his upper lip for a half-smile and raises an eyebrow at the same time. That was a look I was going to look forward to. He knew I was afraid and he tried to make it a little easier for me.

I smiled at him, "Then it is Grace to you," and nodded my head for him to continue.

"We need to take you someplace that would be easier to protect you and your kids. We believe that he'll come for you."

I sat looking into his eyes, evaluating his statement for a moment, and then broke my gaze to watch the hands letting the horses out to graze. The day was coming to an end and dusk was settling in. I shook my head silently and looked back to him, "No. We stay here. You need to catch him and I'm the bait."

Raylan opened his mouth to disagree with me, but I held up my hand to stop him. I leaned forward and looked into his eyes, knowing the truth of what I said and dreading it still. "You know I am right, Raylan. Taking my kids and me away is only going to extend this nightmare. "

TBC

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