Author's note: This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction. Craig Johnson has created some amazing characters. The books are fun to read, and it has been such a treat to see the characters adapted for TV. I have greatly enjoyed reading the stories published on this site and was inspired to write one, which is something I haven't done in a long time. Feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading.
Vic removed her hat and gloves and shrugged off her duty jacket, sinking heavily into her chair. She shivered despite the warmth of the office and rubbed her hands together. The day had been long and cold, and the darkness of the evening matched her mood. It was a little past quitting time, but the thought of going home to an empty house was even less appealing than the prospect of filling out the day's paperwork. Sean had left several months back, and the fact that he hadn't taken much with him made it all the worse. It was as if nothing had changed, and yet, even long before he'd gone, so much had already been different. So she picked up her pen with a sigh and turned her attention to the reports on her desk.
"How'd it go?"
She hadn't heard him come out of his office and jumped at the sound of his voice. Walt had heard the call come in earlier that afternoon, multi-vehicle accident on a quiet but apparently icy stretch of road, but he'd been busy interviewing a robbery suspect. Branch was still on suspension, and Ferg was on another call, so Vic had handled it alone.
"Sorry – didn't mean to startle you."
"It's alright." She picked up her hockey puck and took a deep breath before answering. "It was messy. Head on collision. The driver in the eastbound lane hit a patch of ice and lost control. The vehicles are totaled and the drivers sustained serious injuries. They'll be spending some quality time at Durant Memorial." It had been the second accident of the day and the fourth that week, so she added, "Fucking Wyoming winter. And the four wheel drive on my truck seems to have stopped working, so I slipped and skidded all the way back here."
Walt put his hand on the back of her chair, his fingers absently brushing Vic's shoulder as he stepped behind her to look out the window. It had been snowing all day and showed no signs of letting up. He stepped back and leaned on the edge of the desk, arms crossed, and studied his deputy. He had allowed himself this luxury more and more frequently of late, and if Vic had noticed, she hadn't said anything. He and Vic had always worked well together. They had shared an excellent professional partnership right from the start. But lately it seemed like something more. If he was being truthful, it had felt like something more for far longer than just "lately" but he had tried so hard to bury those feelings. She had been married. It wasn't right. Looking at her now, though, seeing the dark circles that rimmed her eyes and reading her tired expression as she shifted her gaze back to his, he wanted to pull her into a long embrace and then spend the rest of the evening helping her rest and relax and possibly even explore just what "more" there might be.
Vic had known for some time that her feelings for Walt had shifted from friendly admiration and mutual respect to a deeper sense of companionship. It hadn't helped that things between Sean and her had been difficult before they even arrived in Wyoming. It wasn't lost on her that Walt was a ruggedly handsome man, and the quiet glances they shared, the silent understandings, made her wonder if he felt it too. She felt his hand brush against her when he moved to the window, silently enjoying even just the slightest touch, and she had noticed the small grin that flickered on the corner of his mouth when she had cursed out the weather. Seeing him smile, if only briefly, made her feel lighter. Absently turning the hockey puck in her hands, she met his gaze and was momentarily lost in the depth of his eyes when he spoke.
"Let me buy you dinner. Ferg's on duty tonight, and you can write those reports tomorrow."
Stilling her restless hands, she raised an eyebrow and took a chance. "Sheriff ... Are you asking me out on a date?"
He stood, extending his hand to help her up, and grinned. "Is that a yes?"
"Anything to get out of a little paperwork at the end of a long week." She let him help her to her feet, absently registering the warmth of his hand and how good it felt. She'd only been divorced for several months, but things between her and Sean had been cold and contentious for far longer, and their relationship had long lacked for simple, tender, affectionate gestures.
"Let's drop your truck at Ray's on our way out – have him take a look at the four wheel drive. We can take the Bronco and I'll drop you off at home after we eat."
Nodding in agreement, she grabbed her hat and gloves, pulled on her coat, and headed for the door.
xxxxx
The drive to the Red Pony had been a bit slow due to the storm, but Vic hadn't minded the ride or the companionable silence. During the first few months she had worked with Walt, his prolonged silences had made her uneasy, but she had learned to read him and the quiet lack of conversation had become familiar, even comforting. Tired as she was, she allowed herself to relax, leaning back into the seat and closing her eyes.
Walt was trying to keep his eyes on the road and drive safely in the snow, but his attention wandered more than once across the cab to his deputy, unusually quiet in the seat next to him. Emboldened by their playful banter at the office, he reached over and softly took hold of her hand, sliding his fingers under hers and gently rubbing the pad of his thumb against her knuckles.
She opened her eyes at his touch. "So this is a date."
"Yep." Eyes on the road, he issued his trademark reply, spoken with the confidence of a man beginning to realize that he hadn't misread this signs, although he still lacked the certainty to dare say anything more. Something between them had changed, and he was happy that Vic seemed to be on the same page. Walt's heart had taken a beating after Martha's death and he had seriously doubted its recovery on more than one occasion.
The parking lot was mostly empty when they arrived, and Walt was glad. He wasn't one for crowds or noise, and he genuinely wanted to share a relaxing evening with Vic. She had been through a lot and he had noticed that her usual feistiness had declined, replaced with more somber, almost resigned behavior at times. It was out of character, and he wanted to draw her back. Walt would never admit to it outside of his own thoughts, but he missed Feisty Vic. There were a few patrons seated at the bar, and rather than taking up their usual spots he guided Vic to a small table near the fire place, hoping the heat from the flames might reflect the steadily growing warmth of his feelings for her.
Henry Standing Bear came over with a wide and welcoming smile and a briefly quizzical glance aimed towards Walt. He had seen Walt help Vic remove her jacket and pull out a chair for her when they sat down. Henry knew Walt to be a gentleman, but to see this behavior directed towards his Deputy, and have her accept the gesture without throwing a punch accompanied by a litany of curse words, especially while in uniform, was unusual. He had always suspected an attraction between them and had been less than subtle in mentioning it to Walt from time to time. A gruff denial was the best he usually got in response.
"Hello, Walt. Hello, Vic. To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine wintry evening?"
Ever the competent observer, Vic had noticed Henry's glance and was now staring at Walt with a bemused expression of her own. Would he admit they were on a date? He'd been uncharacteristically bold this evening, asking her out and holding her hand, and as much as she was enjoying it and didn't want it to stop, she was always amused at how quickly Henry could rattle the otherwise unflappable Sheriff.
Walt hesitated to reply, and Henry jumped right in with a quiet and teasing intonation, "Is this a date?"
Walt felt his neck begin to flush and quickly countered, "Could we get a couple beers and the cheeseburger special for me," he paused, looking at Vic. She nodded, and he continued, "same for Vic."
"Coming right up."
"Thanks Henry."
Henry left to place their order and Walt drummed his fingers nervously on the table, looking at the flames dancing and twisting around the burning logs in the fireplace, unsure of what to say or do next. He was momentarily startled as he felt Vic's boot rub gently against his beneath the table. He looked at her with a questioning glance, the firelight illuminating her tough but delicate features. She was so beautiful, and he desperately wanted to tell her but couldn't find the words.
"It's OK, Cowboy. I'm nervous too." She smiled at him, "Let's just be us. It has worked well enough so far."
Relieved, he took a deep breath and smiled back. Henry returned with their beers and threw Vic a quick wink before heading back to the kitchen. She laughed. Not one for expressive shows of sentimentality, but feeling better than she had in weeks, she raised her glass, "To warm fires and Wyoming winters." Walt raised his glass and clinked it gently against hers, "To close friends on a first date."
