Hey all! This weekend brought another collaboration between myself and TheGodmother2. Got to love that hiatus of hers, eh? ;D
We chose a prompt from a list supplied by some unruly walnuts, and zeroed in on a rather unexpected but highly entertaining request. The prompt for this story was: Walt and Vic undercover at a Lamaze class.
Unlike our previous collaboration, this one functions as a continuous story with the first half written by GM2 and the second half written by myself, rebelxxwaltz. It was fun to play together, and hopefully the tone and quality of the story will be consistent throughout. Needless to say, we're dying to hear what everybody thinks!
Rebirth
Part I by TheGodmother2
"You have got to be shitting me?"
Walt stands; hands perched on his hips, deciding if he will take a hardline and excise his authority.
Ferg looks at Vic completely perplexed. He gently presses his pencil into the wood surface of his desk.
"Ah, Walt." He mutters, "I don't think anyone will be convinced."
Vic folds her arms and shakes her head, her face twisted reflecting her inner conflict. She finds it increasingly difficult to remain loyal to him. Her last bastion of professional integrity surfaces and she asks all of the vital questions; who, what, where, why and how.
Ferg freezes in disbelief but the past year has taught him to remain silent.
"I'm leaving now." She says without seeking permission. "Ferg, I'll pick you up at 1600 and we can head down to Cheyenne tonight and get a head start."
He just nods his head and before leaving reminds Walt that jury selection starts Monday for the Orchard Gardens burglary trial. The ride to Cheyenne is pleasant enough and actually enjoyable as the time passes.
"Really, Vic." He says his eyes alive from laughing, "Like anyone will actually believe we are married? Come on."
"What? You don't think so? Don't sell yourself short, Ferg." She says with a lightness that is attractive.
"I'm not. I'm just realistic." He smiles, his dimples deep in his cheeks, his fingers gripping the handle above his window.
The miles continue and Ferg turns toward her, "Since we are going undercover the cover story just has to be believable, right?"
She nods her head and plops another salted pretzel chip in her mouth.
"So why don't I just pretend to be your brother? Let's say your husband is out of town. I mean, Vic, that should be easy to play. Sean was out of town for like most of your marriage."
As soon as he says it he regrets it.
"Ah, I'm sorry, Vic. I didn't mean to…."
She cuts him off.
"It's ok, Ferg, seriously."
He puts his head down losing all of the joy they have shared the past hour in the truck. .
"You wanna talk about stuff?" She asks taking a swig of her diet Coke.
His eyes grow large, surprised at her offer, and he shrugs his shoulders.
"Look Ferg, everything is fucked up, okay. I know it. You know it and Walt sure as fuck knows it." She takes another swig. "I know I got a long way to go to figure out shit and make things right again but I started seeing a therapist a few months ago and I swear, Ferg, it's the only reason I'm still sane."
"You started seeing a therapist?" His voice elevated in disbelief.
"Yeah. If you haven't noticed we never ever talk about all the heinous shit that happens. I just reached the tipping point you know."
"How did you find someone?"
"Employee assistance. You know the county actually has a functioning website." She laughs and he laughs too.
"You should check it out."
The worry begins to lift from his brow as the landscape passes them by. The next morning they meet with ICE investigators Lewis and Stone.
"Thanks for helping us out Deputies. Turns out your Sheriff and our boss are old buddies and we sure could use your help." Lewis explains.
"You're welcome. I hope your guys won't be too bored in Absaroka the next few days." Ferg pipes up taking in the sophisticated office surroundings.
"I'm sure they'll manage. I'll take you down to the studio in about an hour, Vic, and our make-up and prosthetics team will get to work."
"Are birther babies really that big of a problem here in Wyoming?"
"Yeah, all over the country really and we have been hitting them hard, so hard in fact that all of our agents are burned along with local law enforcement and it's an election year."
"You mean all of the female agents." She questions.
"Well yeah." Stone answers apologetically.
On the walk to the basement Stone shyly asks, "Deputy Ferguson, do you think he can pull off playing your husband?"
Vic laughs, "He didn't think so. We changed it up a bit. He's my brother filling in for my absentee husband."
Stone smiles, "Now that is believable."
Vic smiles and Stone goes out on a limb, "Are you married, Vic?"
"Divorced and not interested."
He throws his palms in the air in a playful gesture.
"Hey, doesn't hurt to ask."
He flashes a brilliant smile and Vic thinks she should be attracted to him. He's everything she would want and for a brief moment she wonders what is wrong with her. She's been working on that, on all of it; self-doubt, substituting casual sex for dealing with the real issues.
Stone does the introductions and promises to come back before lunch. The artists take measurements and guarantee everything will be ready by the end of business. Vic can wear the pregnancy suit all weekend to grow accustomed to the movement before going undercover Monday morning with Ferg.
She curses a lot over the weekend and manages to appear natural. They practice their cover story and when they arrive at the Real Birthing Center for the group Lamaze session on Monday they look like any other pair there to learn breathing techniques.
"We only have to fake them out for three days, Vic." Ferg looks confident, "I think we can do this."
Vic nods and smiles remembering to put her hand on her artificial tummy.
They make it through the first day, Ferg filling in as her support person, and then his phone rings.
"Hey, Ruby." He sounds cheerful but when he hangs up he's reticent.
"Vic, there's been a change of plans." He looks straight ahead daring himself to face her. "They empaneled a jury today on that burglary case and I have to get back and testify first thing in the morning."
She waits for him to fill in the rest of the story.
"Vic, uhm, they don't want to delay the trial or stop this operation so Walt is on his way down. He's going to fill in for me."
She looks at him but she doesn't say anything as she tries to hide the dread on her face.
"Vic, I'm sorry for all of this."
"It's not your fault Ferg." She looks out of the window and bites her lip to keep from crying. She mumbles, "You're a pretty good fake brother."
She calls Ruby and fills her in on the cover story. Walt can find the key under the door mat. The message is loud and clear and obviously received because he arrives late that night and takes his place on the overstuffed couch.
The next morning he gasps when he sees her, belly protruding, wearing a black flower print dress, and his shock leaves the safety wall wide open, "You look so beautiful." His lips shut tight the moment he speaks and he knows she has completely shut him out.
She ignores him, makes her coffee, flips through her iPhone and 45 minutes before their appointment she heads toward the front door and tells him she will meet him outside. She gives him turn-by-turn directions and doesn't tease him about not having a phone or GPS.
The different environment does nothing to alleviate their pain or change the silent gulf between them. The class begins and his long legs encapsulate her and enclose her body and he thinks how he doesn't have to sell this. Any of it. His hands fall to her back and his warmth soaks through to her skin as they follow directions surrounded by mothers and fathers that don't quite understand English but understand movement and body language. She's breathing through the pain she feels in her heart and when his chin moves past her shoulder and his hands squeeze her forearms she can hear him whisper her name in her ear.
His long thick fingers slide down to her wrists and slowly back up her arms and the lump in her throat will not allow her to speak. She follows the instructions and places her palms on her surrogate stomach and he follows; his hands cover hers and she can feel it and him despite everything.
They struggle through the lesson containing all that is passing between them. The ride back to the house is customarily quiet. He takes his position on the couch and she in the bedroom only meeting to split the pizza she ordered without asking him. She uploads the photos and the name list she was tasked to retrieve to the ICE office fulfilling her objectives for the day.
He knocks on her door, "Vic, can we talk, please?" His voice is kind. That is what she thinks as she turns the knob. He thanks her and he presses his back against the wall stuffing his hands in his front pockets.
"I've learned that I need to acknowledge my feelings." He offers a slight smile, "and that I need to honor the feelings of others. I haven't done a good job of that."
"Are you drunk?"
He shakes his head, "No, just been going to a therapist the past four months on the weekend. " He pauses and reassesses. "I haven't had the courage to talk with you about the damage we've done."
She pauses, "You're not alone. I go every other week to see my headshrinker."
He looks both sad and comforted as his back relieves the wall of its burden. He sits next to her on the bed and when she doesn't move he keeps his courage.
"Today, with you, I thought if we hadn't ruined it this could be real." His confession startles her and her eyes drop.
He slides his fingers onto her knee, "There's not a moment that passes where I don't think of you." He doesn't attempt to hide the tears that stream down his hard features because they are past the posturing. It's just them now.
Her tears match his and his lips brush away the salty drops of water. She doesn't stop him and when he pulls back his finger takes the place of his lips brushing the wetness from her cheek.
"I love you, Vic." His voice flutters but its firm.
Her head turns away from him and she looks down at their intertwined hands.
"You have a really fucked up way of showing it." She says because that's who she is and she not really past all of it.
"I want to show you the right way." He leans forward and kisses her cheek, "Do you still love me?" He asks before committing any further.
"What makes you think I ever loved you?" She challenges him.
"I know you did, once, and I didn't take care of it. I didn't respect it."
"Why now?"
"I had to forgive myself before I could see it. Before I allowed myself to feel it but I've loved you for a very long time." She hears him sniffle trying to catch his breath and his Adam's apple slides down slowly to its resting place.
His lips hover just above hers and he asks for her forgiveness. His eyelashes close over the pulses of blue. She forgave him long ago.
Their lovemaking is pure and selfless and deserving. When she takes him in, he is consumed by her desire, and the words of love pour out of her flesh.
"Tell me again, Vic."
"I love you, Walt."
The next day when they go through their Lamaze exercises he whispers in her ear, "We would be good at this." Her fingers wrap around his muscled forearms and she leans back into his chest.
"We will be good at a lot of things."
Driving back to Durant, she puts their folded and twined fingers in her lap, and she thinks for the first time that she's going home, going home with him, and all the possibilities that will bring.
Click through to read part II by rebelxxwaltz, and be sure to leave a review to tell GM2 how you liked her portion of the story. We'll give you a slice of pie! Everybody loves pie.