A/N Many many thanks to my co-author on this piece, motorcitymade. Without her, this would be much less explicit. Heck, I might as well admit it...it wouldn't be explicit at all. Thanks also for the inspiration of jbkr's 'Hat' fill of a summer in Harlan livejournal prompt. We now consider that pre-show canon of Raylan and Winona's first encounter.

Recompense

Recompense: to repay, satisfy, or reward.

"You forgot the coffee again, didn't you?" Art shakes his head with a sigh.

"Sorry, Art." Raylan says. "Didn't get much sleep."

"Neither did the rest of us. That's why we need the coffee. Doughnuts woulda been nice, too."

"Okay, I'll go right now."

"Don't bother. Rachel just left. She says you owe her."

Raylan's turning the corner headed back to his desk when a hand reaches out of the supply closet and snags his jacket sleeve. The door opens wider and he's tugged inside. An elegantly clad foot kicks the door shut leaving them in the dark but for a thin stream of light from the vent high on the wall. Winona pulls him behind a stack of heavy boxes and presses against him.

"I missed you last night." She murmurs as her mouth finds his.

"I…was…workin' late." He manages to get the words out between flicks of warm tongue, and his hands automatically slide down her body to rest on her hips.

"Did you miss me, too?" Her lips move to his throat and his body responds as she arches into him.

"Umm humm." He says. He pushes her away slightly, the rational need to stop this before it goes too far momentarily outweighing his pleasure at her stealth attack.

"Good." She grins up at him wickedly and tugs at his belt with practiced fingers.

"What're you doing?" He hisses.

"Shhhhh." She puts a finger to his lips. She trails that hand down his chest, grabbing his tie and pulling his mouth down to hers again. Belt undone, she works the zipper down and her hand snakes in, drawing him out.

He groans. His brain is in a fog, telling him one thing while his body is clearly telling him something else. "We can't…"

"Shhhh." She says again. "Let me do this." She kneels in front of him and takes him gently to her soft lips. Raylan momentarily resists, but he's already rock hard as her tongue circles the head and she draws him deeper into her warm, wet mouth. Desire claws at his gut and he gives in to her, leaning his head back against the wall, mind empty of anything but the sensations her lips and tongue create. After a moment he brushes the hair from her face with one hand, holding it back so he can watch in the dim light. Her eyes are closed as she eases him in and out of her mouth, darting her tongue at the tip, running her hand along the length of him making quiet mewing sounds of pleasure. She's enjoying this and her enjoyment fuels his.

This isn't going to take long.

The door opens abruptly, and the overhead light flickers on. Raylan blinks at the brightness and sucks in a breath. Winona halts her ministrations. They're absolutely still. Gutterson reaches for a printer cartridge on the top shelf, turns off the light and shuts the door, never glancing left or right. Not for the first time Raylan is supremely thankful for his fellow marshal's single-mindedness.

The adrenaline rush of almost being caught has his heart pounding a swift rhythm. "Shit." He mutters. "That was close."

There's a low throaty laugh from Winona. "Should I stop?"

"Hell, no."

She quickens her stroke, rhythmically licking and sucking until his knees won't let him stand. He leans hard into the wall, his breath coming in staccato gasps.

"Oh, Winona,….yeah." he stammers as he feels the pressure build. "You're gonna make me come…" He growls a warning, knowing she will pull her mouth away and use her hand to finish him off. He lets go of her hair to free her but she doesn't release him. Her lips tighten around his cock and she squeezes him through two last long strokes.

He bites his lower lip and winces with ecstasy as his first blast hits the back of her throat. He feels Winona swallow reflexively and steady him with her grip. He lets out a guttural moan as his body rocks against the cinderblocks with the next pulse of his climax.

He opens his eyes and watches her; watches her knead him and take him in. The sight of her staying anchored to him as he fills her mouth mesmerizes him; and he comes as forcefully as the first night he bought her home from that Salt Lake City bar. He shudders with one last thrust and thinks he might turn to dust as she coaxes the last drop of fluid from him.

Winona rocks back on her heels and laughs up at him. "So, was that good for you?" She laughs again and wipes the top of her thumb across her mouth; erasing all evidence of Raylan's spent pleasure. She smacks her lips into a mischievous grin and reaches up to him.

Although still slightly weak in the knees, he extends his hand and helps her to her feet. "You are incredible."

She hangs her head, not meeting his gaze. "I'm sorry about the Dave Alvin show the other night." She whispers with some atonement. "I don't know why I acted that way. I'm just...scared of making a mess of things, I guess."

"It's O.K."

Leaning forward, he takes her face in his hands and kisses her. She tastes like the ocean, warm and salty. He slides his hands downward, letting his thumb brush her nipple through the thin fabric of her dress, feeling it harden at his touch. He hears her breath catch, and her arms go around his neck.

Her breasts lay natural behind the dark blue fabric of her wrap dress. If memory serves, he's had some practice getting Winona out of this particular garment. He pulls at the snaps to loosen it and slips his hand inside. The light from the vent throws streaks of light across her bare breast. Raylan stops to admire its beauty for a moment and to look into her eyes for permission before lowering his mouth.

He has to take a step backward against the stack of boxes and contort his body to suck her nipple. The reality of their height disparity becomes a clear mechanical conundrum. Damn, I wish you were taller he thinks. They fumble for a moment and she sweetly suggests that no reciprocation is required and gives him the opportunity to zip up.

"No, no, no... Not so fast. You pulled me in here. Now, you don't get to go back to work until I'm finished with you." He whispers a promise and holds her around the waist.

He turns and reaches for the top box from the tall stack that hides them from the door. It's heavy, a ream of paper probably. He sets the box at Winona's feet and slides it flush against the wall. "Up you go".

He holds her hand as she steps up on the box.

She hesitates. "Don't let me fall."

"I won't."

The removal of the top box clearly exposes their escapades to anyone who enters the supply room. Risking detection again excites him and he hungrily kisses and fondles Winona's breasts. He moves his lips to her neck and collarbone and presses his body into hers, forcing her against the cool block wall. She's taller than him now; balancing on this box. This is interesting. He thinks.

He pushes the silky skirt of her dress aside and reaches between her legs.

"Raylan." Her voice carries a warning. "Maybe we shouldn't….."

"Shhh." He quiets her with a whisper; knowing she's half feigning modesty. "Your turn."

His hand travels up her legs, chasing the warmth, expertly tracing the muscles of her thigh. He follows the edges of her panties with a subtle fanning of his fingers, and he feels a trickle of excitement seep through as he lightly brushes against the lacy fabric

He's not usually a talker but something about the setting, or the surprise of the encounter, loosens his tongue."Whaat do have we here?" He teases. His breath is hot at her neck as he lifts his head to whisper in her ear. "Did sucking my cock make you wet?"

"Mmmmm…hmm." Winona whimpers as he continues teasing.

He slips his arm around Winona's waist, between her and the wall, and pivots to hold her tightly, so she won't fall. She clings to his neck and shoulders, using them as a brace to buck and pull herself away from his insistent fingertips teasing through the fabric.

"You know what I'm gonna do to you when we get back to my place?" He brings his hand to his mouth and coats his fingers thoroughly, breathing in her sweet scent. "I'm gonna lick your pussy." He answers himself rhetorically as he pulls aside her panties and glides two fingers smoothly across her wanting flesh. She moans with pleasure. He wonders if the sensation of his touch is similar to the suggestion because the response certainly is.

He knows well what's required to get Winona to climax. He finds her clit and with two fingers begins a slow, steady, circular motion. She's wet and now slippery with his spit. He could make her come right away if he deployed the thumb and forefinger method, he thinks, but he wants to make this last.

"Um hmm...That spot right there. I'm gonna lick that spot until I make you come. I can't wait to taste you." She spreads her legs as wide as her paper pedestal will allow and thrusts her hips, inviting each caress with a coo and a shiver. He continues his pliant probing and stroking until her breath quickens and she seems on the verge of a ferocious orgasm.

"Then when I'm done licking you, I'm going to slide you down on my cock and pry you apart." Raylan murmurs to her at the moment he slips two thick digits into her body, filling her. She gasps and bucks wildly at the penetration, then recoils slightly.

"Ow. Ring." She groans, barely able to speak the word.

"Sorry." He murmurs. He changes his hand position and grinds his palm into her while his fingers move rhythmically inside her. He nearly lifts her off the pedestal as she starts to squirm on his hand. She wriggles and comes explosively, only able to gasp and moan.

"Yeah, that's it...come on." He coaxes her in her climax. He watches her face as she clenches him and quivers in orgasm again and again. Once clearly spent, the bliss on her face is unmistakable and he takes great pleasure in knowing he put it there.

Winona slumps against him, boneless. He maintains his posture, holding her close until her breathing settles back into normal rhythm.

He lifts her down, then leans away and reaches for the dispenser style towel refills stacked neatly on the opposite cabinet.

"Wow." She giggles. "I didn't expect that."

"You started it." He grins at her, wiping his hands.

"When'd you start talking like that?" Her eyes sparkle with amusement.

"You said I needed to work on my communication skills."

"That's not exactly what I meant." She says. "Not that I'm complaining….it's just that…Thank-you" Raylan interrupts her speech and hands her the sheets of paper towel. "It's just that…well..that other business too…whew…." She stammers. "My word, Raylan, where'd you learn to talk like that?"

Raylan hangs his head and furrows his brow

"Did that Ava woman ..."

Raylan immediately raises his head and shushes her with a staccato utterance and a raised finger in front of him.

"When did you start doing that?" He demands

"Doing what?" Winona seems suddenly embarrassed.

"You know." Raylan's glance gestures down at his zipper. "You never..."

"Oh, that?" She shrugs, but her cheeks redden. "Well, it's dark in here and... well, I didn't want to end up wearing some crazy hair gel like Cameron Diaz in that movie."

"Oh, is that it?" Raylan runs his tongue behind his bottom lip and nods skeptically at her transparent explanation.

They adjust their clothing and she steps toward the door. "Here, give me those" She yanks the paper from his hand and palms it, exasperated. Raylan falls in line behind her, stepping out of the stream of light into near darkness.

He reaches for her arm and holds her back from the door for a moment.

"The answer to your question is; No…she did not." He speaks from behind her. "I….read". The long pause has a boyish charm.

"Ohhh. You'll have to show me that book then." She gives him a smile in the darkness.

He smacks her lightly on the bottom. "Maybe I will and maybe I won't."

She opens the door and peeks out. "All clear."

He waits a few minutes and follows her out, turning the opposite direction into the locker room. Staring in the mirror as he washes his hands, he wonders if he's just woken up from some kind of erotic daydream. He cups cold water in his hands and splashes his face. No, apparently, that really just happened. Laughing to himself, he heads back to the bullpen and straight for the coffee, avoiding his usual cream and sugar concoction and keeping it black.

His brain still fuzzy, Raylan sits down and feigns interest in the report on the top of the stack of files languishing on his desk. After a few gulps of astonishingly bitter coffee, he's to the point of actually making some notes when a hand slaps the folder shut and Gutterson leans in close.

"Did you just get a blow-job from your ex-wife in the storage room?" He asks, his voice low.

Raylan hesitates, glancing around the bullpen. Rachel is intent on her work. Art's pacing with a phone call in his office.

"Sniper." Tim reminds him. "We miss nothing."

"I didn't…."

"Liar." Tim grins. "That's hot. I gotta admit, that's hot."

"Her idea."

"Even hotter." He walks back toward his desk. "You're a lucky man, Raylan."

"Today, at least." Raylan agrees.