"You gonna ask what I think?" Tim questioned as they parked the vehicle outside Arlo's. Well, the place was technically Raylan's now, but that didn't matter much.

Jo had said her piece at what had once been her childhood home, then gone decidedly mute on the short ride back. She sighed at the query. "I imagine you don't know what you think yet," she commented before climbing out the driver's side door.

"That's it?" He huffed, exiting the vehicle as well, only a step behind her. They ducked beneath the caution tape barring the door and sidestepped the blood smears in the living room. Until the pair halted in the kitchen.

Jo rummaged around in the cabinets until she found two glasses, and retrieved a half-empty bottle of bourbon to dispense into each.

"Do you want me to cry?" She commented sarcastically, which only received a glare of annoyance from Tim. "No, really," she pressed while taking a swig from her heavily poured glass. "Am I supposed to be so irrevocably broken that only you can fix me? Shit happens. You either push your way through it or let it drown you. Life's a lot simpler than people make it out to be."

Again, she only received a silent stare from the man who had yet to touch his newly poured glass. The lack of engagement prompted her to clarify, "everything back there was for your benefit, not mine. I didn't say all that to unburden myself."

"Do you always gotta be difficult?" Tim finally spoke up. The interrogation elicited a tsk from Jo, who downed her own glass before claiming his abandoned one as well.

"It's a talent," she snipped in return. "You know, you can leave now. I can get myself back to Lexington." The offer of an easy out was on the table. Jo wished he'd take it. At least then, she'd finally be truly alone with her thoughts for the first time that hectic day.

"No," was Tim's stout reply.

"No," she mimicked childishly. "And why not?" She'd already finished half his glass and was determined to drain the entire bottle if this back and forth was to continue.

Tim crossed his arms in a show of resolve. "I meant what I said."

Jo knew precisely which admission he was referring to, but she wished she didn't. She tried to buy time by drinking the remains of the glass in hand, filling it right back up once the amber liquid was gone. However, an irritation continued to swell in her chest. One that could not be quelled by any amount of alcohol.

She rounded on Tim aggressively in an instant. "Why? I'm seriously at a loss here as to why. I've got nothing to offer you. Sure, I've got a decent job, a nice house, and I easily put out, but my shitty attitude should more than eclipse that."

He opened his mouth to interrupt her, but Jo threw up a hand to silence him. "No, just shut up. I know I'm elusive, and I lack the capacity for vulnerability. So, why are you even entertaining all that when you could, instead, have a pretty blonde preacher's sister who wouldn't be quite as much trouble?"

The last portion of her inquiry had Tim's mouth snapping shut. Whatever argument he'd had immediately died on his lips.

She chuckled sardonically at his apparent surprise. "Yeah, I know all about that too," she mocked, gesturing her pointer finger at him in an accusatory manner, while the remainder stayed firmly wrapped around her glass.

"That wasn't what you think," Tim tried to assure.

"It never is," she said with a roll of the eyes.

A stillness fell over the kitchen as they surveyed one another. She finally gave in to the deafening silence. Sighing, she deflated slightly. "Can you just go so I can do what I've got to do?" She asked with a defeated tone.

"What is it you've gotta do, huh? Drink until you pass out?" Tim's attitude was far too judgemental for Jo's liking.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm gonna do." Then, quieter, she added, "and pretend this never happened."

There was a moment of nothingness, then Tim surged forward and snatched the glass right from her hand before she could fill it a fourth time. "Goddammit, Jo," he exclaimed in frustration, slamming the glass down on the counter beside him.

She remained unimpressed by his display of exasperation. "You know I can just drink it straight from the bottle, right?" She taunted his efforts to stall her by waving the container between them.

This, it seems, turned out to be the wrong ridicule because he claimed the bottle just as quickly, tucking it away with the glass he'd also unjustly confiscated from her, firmly out of her reach.

Now, she was equally as infuriated as him. "What the fuck do you want, Tim? Like, shit. I don't know why you're still entertaining any of this," Jo expressed angrily, with arms thrown about.

"I want you to be honest with me," he reasoned, arms still crossed against his chest. He'd shouted at her previously, but now his words came out eerily calm.

An unladylike like snort expelled from her mouth at his request. "I've been nothing but honest with you. Hell, I've told you shit that no one alive, but Raylan knows. Can't that be enough?"

The exhaustion at this conversation was apparent in her voice, but Tim wasn't planning on allowing her the privilege of a reprieve.

"Then try to be honest about us," he restated with a measure of finality in his timber.

All expression dropped from Jo's face, even the annoyance. A wall was constructed behind her eyes that refused to allow any degree of emotion or thought to seep through. "There is no us," she commented shortly. "There's you, and then there's me, but we aren't together. If you knew what was good for you, you'd let it stay that way."

He didn't allow time for the sentiment to resonate before responding. "Why, because you had a rough childhood?" He scoffed at her blatant attempts to sway his certainty. "Join the club. And, it's not like you're the only one who struggles to emote. But, none of that matters."

"Because...?" Jo's question trailed off, prompting Tim to justify his reasoning.

He inhaled sharply through his nose before taking a step closer to her. She had to physically restrain herself from taking a step back in turn. She briefly humored the notion of sidestepping him and reclaiming her alcohol but figured that action would shatter the moment he was trying to cultivate.

She remained stark still instead, as he progressed towards her. "Because it's different," Tim sought to explain. "We're different," he declared while hesitantly reaching out towards her like one would a skittish animal.

And that's exactly what Jo was, skittish. She was far displaced from her comfort zone. Adrift in a sea of fragility without her usual vices to serve as a life raft. But, she limply allowed him to pull her into his chest. Her head coming to rest upon his shoulder.

"Sounds like a recipe for disaster," she murmured into his jacket. Her hands still hung by her sides, refusing to give in to his warmth entirely. If she did, Jo knew all her determination to be contrary would be lost.

He chuckled at her assessment. "Yeah, probably,"him concluded. "Doesn't mean we shouldn't give it a shot."

Goddamn Tim and his resilience, Jo thought. This was just supposed to be a bit of harmless fun, but he had to go and get serious on her. Apparently, for all his investigative work, he still couldn't recognize red flags as they waved prominently in his face.

"You're agitating," she grumbled, turning her face into his chest. She aimed to instill some levity into their far too exposing conversation.

"And you're a pain in the ass," Tim stated in return. The assessment was crass but fair.

Jo pulled back from the embrace to peer at Tim's face. She swallowed hard and steeled herself for the words preparing to leave her mouth.

"If I allow you to be my boyfriend, can I have my booze back?" She couldn't help but turn the serious matter into a jesting one. It felt more comfortable that way. More manageable.

Tim raised a brow in disbelief. "Only for the booze?"

"I mean, it's not an unimportant factor," Jo admitted with a tilt of the head. His eyes surveyed her face to deduce her level of earnest but was left wanting. She tread the line between sarcasm and sincerity so tightly that it was difficult to say what was real and what was mockery.

Instead, he abandoned the frivolous pursuit and reached over to recover the nearly empty bottle from the counter, handing it back to her as requested.

Jo smiled smugly before bringing the bourbon to her lips and drinking heavily. Once she'd had her fill, she pulled back and offered the remainder to Tim, who briskly finished off the last bit and returned the empty container to its previous spot on the counter.

With that particular obstacle out of the way, he wasted no time in pulling her back towards him. His lips descended upon hers like waves crashing upon the beach.

Jo hadn't been expecting the ferocity of his affection, and incidentally stumbled backward against the stove under the weight of Tim's body pressing against hers. He followed in step, never breaking contact as he continued to draw her into him further.

She ignored the sting of the stove's edge digging into her back while her hands wove through his hair, tugging gently at the locks he'd grown out recently. He groaned at the sensation, his hands gripping ever tighter on her waist.

Pulling back for air, Jo moaned when Tim's lips dropped to her neck and began sucking harshly on the exposed skin. They weren't reckless teenagers by any means, but she wouldn't be surprised if there would be a red mark left in his wake. But, that was a problem for tomorrow.

With nimble fingers, she worked to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. Once the zipper was lowered, the garment pooled around his ankles.

Withdrawing from her momentarily, Tim struggled to kick off his boots and remove the restricting clothing quickly. Before tossing the items out of reach on the kitchen floor.

Meanwhile, Jo pulled her shirt up overhead and disposed of the article carelessly. Her bra followed shortly thereafter, and she went to work on her own jeans.

With only their underwear remaining, she thought better of having sex in the decidedly unkempt kitchen. "Upstairs," she demanded while panting.

Tim's darkened eyes ranked over her figure before grasping her beneath the thighs and hoisting Jo up on his waist.

The pair stumbled up the stairs and into her old bedroom, where she'd never been brave enough to sneak a boy before.