A/N: I was watching Justified earlier and I couldn't help but notice that both Raylan and Boyd are super sexy and awesome (one bad, the other badder), and this is what came right off the bat. I *did* proof read, it's meant to be written the way it's writ. It's in Southern/Kentuckian dialect to help with the realism/scene setting/development/consistency. Reviews will bend the story in whichever direction. Maybe one of 'em? Maybe t'other? Both, mayhaps? Let me know what you want, peeps. . . I do not own 'Justified' or any of the canonical characters. I just like to play with 'em like I do. Pretty tame seein' how this's the first chapter, but later on it gets pretty graphic and blue. 'Specially Boyd's behavior, of course. The title comes from a classic southern novel called 'The Neon Bible' by John Kennedy Toole. It's amazing, I highly recommend it.

It was the summer that Raylan Givens and Boyd Crowder were seventeen years of age. They were working together in the fields in front of Dr. Freeman Montegomery's estate. Dr. Montegomery was never a serious farmer, but as Boyd had said to Raylan when he'd posed the query, "A true southerner never lets his fields go unattended to."

The hot July sun beat down on them without mercy. By now the two of them were stripped down to their wife-beaters, and Boyd had almost taken his off before he remembered himself and where he was (but rather was reminded by Raylan, because he was the one who simply did not care). Raylan's white stetson hung on the fence post next to him. The two stopped, leaning on their hoes to wipe their brows.

"It is hotter than the Devil's asshole out here!" Raylan breathed, looking down to get the sun out of his eyes for a moment.

"Shit, you ain't kiddin', friend. I'm sweatin' like a whore in church. What time is it anyhow?" Boyd replied, taking his breath in short bursts.

"I'd say. . ." Raylan shielded his eyes and looked up at the sun, attempting to gauge the time, "'bout half-past noon, maybe quarter of."

"Oh, good. Then it's about time for our break then, in'nit?" Boyd responded, dropping the handle of his hoe. "She still there?" he asked the boy working the fields with him, spinning away; pulling off his gloves, he stuffed them in the back pocket of his Levi's.

"Hmm?" Raylan hummed, already distracted. His brow was furrowed as he regarded the girl under the tree with her nose in a book, intently. "Yeah, June's still there. Reading. . . As usual."

"How long have we been workin' here and I gotta keep askin' you for the time, cuz she ain't never look at a watch instead of a damn book," Boyd groaned, whining his discontent. He turned to look at her as well.

Juniper Montegomery. She was sweet sixteen, with sunny blonde hair, and baby blues that could put a puppy dog's hungry eyes to shame. She had her hair pulled up into a quick'n'messy bun, a couple of long loose-curled locks free and stray. She read her book with such resolute peace beneath the shade of the old oak tree.

"I reckon, what, three weeks?" Raylan countered, quickly looking to Boyd for him to confirm or deny his guestimation.

Boyd nodded slowly, "Yeah, that sounds 'bout right."

"Well if you wanna talk to her so bad, go ahead and talk to her whiles we on break, Crowder," Raylan teased him.

"And what if I ain't got nuthin' to say, Givens-"

"Well that'd be a first," Raylan interrupted Boyd with a sarcastic cough.

"Asides, you're the one that knows her better," Boyd argued, not taking his eyes off the young girl entrenched in her own world under the tree, as he bickered with the other strapping boy that was farming with him.

"Psht, barely. . . Wait a cotton pickin' minute. We both know her. What kinda punches you tryin' to pull?" Raylan scowled at the Crowder boy standing next him, not appreciating Boyd tryin' to bamboozle him. Raylan stayed quiet a second and Boyd didn't respond. Raylan just leaned against the hoe handle. "You're the one that likes her. . ."

Boyd turned his head slowly to look at Raylan, and Raylan returned his gaze. "Uh, uh, uh," he tisked his amigo, "ain't your daddy ever teach you nuthin'? Never try to shit a shitter, Raylan. . . I can tell by the look in your eye that you like her too."

"Shut up," Raylan muttered back, looking away from his friend. He quickly changed the subject. "I seen her at school doin' the same thing," bein' a good ol' boy, when he said 'thing' it twanged out like 'thang', "ain't hardly a social butterfly."

Boyd turned his head and stared a Raylan a moment, a bit annoyed, "Well this ain't school, Raylan. . ."

"Arright," Raylan conceded, biting the middle finger of his gloved hand, pulling it up with his teeth. He pursed his lips and blasted out a loud, sharp whistle at her- throwing his glove for good measure to get her attention. His aim was good and his discarded glove landed square on the page she was about to turn.

June's head snapped up quickly, but she wasn't looking at them, she was staring out in front of her, then she looked up in the tree, confused.

"Hey, June!" Raylan called out to her, blowing a short whistle once more.

Her head snapped sideways and she looked out at the two brawny elder fellas out in the sun. June was back in the real world now, and she smiled when she recognized them as the oldest

son of Bo Crowder and Raylan Givens, both of whom she knew a lil' bit from her childhood and school. 'Specially Raylan. His mama was a friend of her mama's. A brilliant smile spread across her soft pink lips, and she flashed them her two straight rows of pearly whites. She raised her arm and waved widely at them.

Raylan spoke out of the side of his mouth to Boyd, "A thoroughly nervous creature-d'you see her jump when I hucked my glove over?"

Boyd simply nodded, not taking his eyes off the young girl.

"What'chu want, Givens?" June hollered from under her tree.

"Hmmm. . ." he quirked an eyebrow and pretended to think, "I dunno. . . World Peace. A black on black camero. Ten million dollars. . . But for now I'd settle for a drink o' water if you don't mind-"

"O'course!" June replied, folding down the corner of her page to save her place, then dropping her book to spring up and sprint into the house.

Without turning his head, Raylan knew Boyd was eyeballin' him based on account of he could feel the other man's stare. "What?"

"Huh-" Boyd scoffed, tonguing the inside of his cheek, and toeing the dirt with his boot, "I think we both know you're far too cantankerous to be wishin' for world peace," he commented pointlessly, meandering off.

Boyd's remark made Raylan smile. "Where're you gettin' off to?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, mother. . .Can I go for a jaunt?" Boyd quipped over his shoulder.

"Sheesh- and you're callin' me cantankerous," Raylan mumbled to himself under his breath.

Boyd wandered off and left Raylan standing alone. Raylan just smiled and laughed to himself, lifting his white Stetson off the fencepost and placing it back on his head.

After just a few minutes, June backed out the screen door, all loaded up with a tray that had three tall glasses of syrupy brown liquid, each with a sprig of mint in 'em - and biscuits with strawberry jam. She sauntered over to Raylan and held the tray up.

"Did I do you one better or what?" she questioned rhetorically, extending her arms full of Southern hospitality.

"If one of them biscuits sees fit to make itself mine, I'd say that'd count as two," he replied anyway, taking a sip from the glass he'd picked up. His eyes went big and he sucked on his lip, hissing in surprise, "Lordy- That's good sweet tea!"

June looked to either side behind Raylan. She started to get that patented doe-eyed confused look of hers, "Hey, Raylan. Where'd your friend get off to?"

"Who?" Raylan asked quickly, taking another sip from his glass. Each time he took a sip he held the cup out in front of his face and examined it like he couldn't believe how good it was.

"Y'know, that Crowder kid," June clarified, blowing her bangs up out of her eyes.

"Oh, 'scuse me, it was the word 'friend' that confused me," Raylan joked, picking up one of the biscuits and taking a bite, forgetting his manners a moment he exclaimed, "Holy shit! This's the best tea'n'biscuit I ever had. Tell your mama she's amazin' for me, will ya?"

June cracked a cock-eyed smile and gave a little laugh, readjusting the heavy tray in her arms, "I don't see why for, she didn't do nothin'."

"Are you tellin' me you made these?" Raylan asked in awe, already halfway through his and reaching for another.

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded, her hair shaking into her eyes again. June gave a little exhasperated sigh and blew them back again. "Right, so where's your companion, Raylan Givens?"

Not having paid attention to where Boyd'd gotten to, Raylan panned around to help her out, then saw him. He gave a quick nod, saying, "I believe he's taken up your fast-abandon spot."

June turned around, seeing the other boy under her tree, her book in hand, reading as she'd been. She wheeled back around to Raylan. "You best take another biscuit before I walk off."

"Oh, no, June, I couldn't possibly. I've already had two-" Raylan rattled in false modesty.

"You're a growin' boy have yer fill. But in five seconds I'mma start walkin' to give him his and I ain't gon' bother with you no more," she jokingly bristled back. Ever since they'd met, June always seemed to enjoy pretending to be mad at Raylan, although she seldom ever was. Damn near every time it made Raylan smile.

"Well arright, if you insist. . . June," he tugged the brim of his hat, tipping it to her in appreciation, "much obliged," he tacked on, accepting another roll from the tray she extended to him.

"You're a very welcome," June chirped, turning on her heel an taking a few steps towards the fella under the oak tree.

"I'd bet my bottom dollar you'd always bother with me, though!" Raylan called after June, a smile across his lips.

June stopped in her track so fast for a minute, she almost sloshed the sweet tea over the brim. A bright and giddy smile spread across her face and glowed there. She had herself a 'be still my beating heart' moment, then strode confidently towards the boy in the shade of her tree. Raylan tilted his head and watched her sway away in her tight lil' daisy dukes.