Author's Notes/Warnings/Etc at the end.

/O/ The list

It's been six months, and sometimes she thinks she's becoming … accustomed – to Durant, to Absaroka, and to Wyoming.

(She refuses to use the word resigned.)

But that's only sometimes. Mostly, she's just infuriated.

Like today. She's got second watch, only Ruby called her, like, two minutes after she clocked in, and sent her after a disturbance at the matinee roadrace at the track off 293. An hour and a half later, she had the drunkest of the idiots in the back of her vehicle, mud all the way up the back of her ass, and hadn't even had a chance to get a bag of cotton candy. She frogmarched the drunk across the square in the spitting rain, and then up the stairs to the office, only nearly slipping and falling twice on the polished stairs.

"Shut. The. Fuck. UP." Vic shoved him into the holding cell and slammed the door.

"B-b-but," blubbered the drunk, "B-b-b-but Vera! You left her there! In the rain! She'll get ruined!"

"SHUT IT," Vic bellowed –

-it wasn't a scream, she had learned that lesson back in Philly, to keep her voice at least reasonably low and not shrill, because it made men insane to have women shriek at them. She didn't give a fuck if it irritated the drunk, but she had a pair of brother officers she didn't intend to piss off –

- and turned to take the file on Mr Dumbass Drunken Demo Derby from Ruby's hand. Take, not snatch, because Ruby didn't stand for that, even from the Sheriff. Vic flipped the file open and focused on the record, doing her best to ignore both Branch Connally and The Ferg.

"D & D, D & D, public urination, D & D, open container – " She paused, went back to the top of the fifth paragraph, "Open container, DWI, vandalizing public property and endangerment of livestock? In the 4th of July parade?"

The Ferg snorted. "The Mayor had bought the top steer at the spring sale. Monty spray painted the Mayor's name on the steer and rode it out into the middle of the Independence Day Parade."

Vic flicked her eyes at Ferg without moving her head. "I supposed that accounts for the endangerment of livestock." Ferg swallowed and shook his head.

Branch laughed behind his hand. Vic tried to pin him with a look, but the other deputy just shrugged her off. "Nope. Riding a steer's not illegal." He leaned back in his chair, his uniform annoyingly dry and crisp, even if he was an hour past clocking out.

Vic didn't care. Branch still hadn't come out to help her with the road rally.

From the cell, Mr 4D whined, "But Vera! In the raaaiiinnn!"

"Then what the fuck was the issue?" To Mr D4, Vic yelled, "SHUT UP! There's a tarp over your stupid car!"

Branch smirked. "You're a little tense, Vic. All the way down the list already today?"

That perked Ferg's flagging interest again. "List?"

"Of things unpredictable and annoying in Wyoming," Branch drawled, a shit eating grin spread across his face. Fuck. She should never have let him over hear her bitching on the phone to Sean.

"You have a list?" The Ferg was incredulous.

Vic slapped the file on the desk and glared. "I always have a list."

"Wack-jobs, weather, and…what was the rest, Vic?"

"Wildlife," she snapped, and started shrugging out of her jacket. "And today is two for three, and it's not even dinner time yet." She fixed Branch with one eye. "Which you can go get for me, if you're staying."

That at least galvanized Branch's tighted-jeaned ass out of his chair. "Nope. Things to do." He shrugged back into his coat and tucked his head back into his hat, nodding at Ruby as he left.

Not a nice way to refer to the boss's daughter, Vic thought, but didn't say, even though it cost her the taste of copper in her mouth. She dropped into her chair and kicked the bottom drawer open as a footrest even as she pulled the arrest sheet towards her.

The Ferg was still hovering. Mr D 4 was still blubbering in the cell.

"What?"

"It was – uh. The livestock endangerment charge? Was because he put the Mayor's name on the steer's, um, backside, and the Mayor stood up in his convertible, pulled out his derringer, and shot the steer three times."

Vic just stared.

"The steer was fine," Ferg hastened to say, "but Monty got bucked off, and broke his arm, so Judge Selby went easy on him –"

"No." Ferg blinked. Vic cleared her throat. "No. You're done. Go away. Find me food." As Ferg left, letting the knee high kid'n'crook gate swing shut behind him, Vic called after him, "Come back in forty-five minutes so I can go change!" Ferg waved at her as he shut the door. Ruby gave Vic The Eye over her glasses. Vic buried her attention in the arrest file before her and resisted the impulse to ruminate on her lot.

A lot filled to the brim with weather, wildlife, and wackjobs.

Fuck my life, Vic thought, and stabbed the paper with her pen.

/to be continued/

Author's notes:

Characters/Pairing: Gennish, mentions of Vic/Sean. Vic Moretti, Branch Connally, The Ferg, Ruby, Henry Standing Bear, Walt Longmire

Setting/Warnings: S1-ish, pre-series. Influenced by book characterization, except when I preferred the tv series. Warnings for Moretti mouth and wide open skies.

A/N: Five part story. With thanks to the greatest beta eva (tm). All the errors remain my own. Title from Corb Lund's "September". Feedback and concrit aways appreciated. I hope you enjoyed the books and the tv show as much as I did.