A/N: Okay so my muse was under strict instructions not to start any new stories or jump onto any new ships until all my open stories were finished, but apparently she just doesn't care. Just found this show, totally hooked, watched all episodes in under five days, and now that I'm caught up… need… more… now…

One

Vic winced at the scathing look Lizzy shot in her direction as Walt unceremoniously led her into his office and shut the door behind them. She rolled her eyes when Ruby and Ferg looked at her for an explanation, as it seemed they'd done regularly in recent days. When had she become Walt's translator? Hell, when had she become fluent in his form of communication, anyway? Because there was no point in denying that somewhere down the line, she had.

She wasn't going to feel guilty about this. She wasn't. She had nothing to feel guilty about, and she knew it. So she had impure thoughts, feelings and desires for her boss; so sue her. She hadn't acted on them, and wouldn't. It didn't matter, anyway. He didn't return them. The fact that they'd seemed to be growing closer lately had nothing to do with Walt's relationship-or-whatever-the-hell it was with Lizzy. That was his business. He needed a friend right now, and that was something she could do. She was here for him when he needed her; that was it. Between Cady, and Branch, and Henry, and the murder investigation, and her own mess with Gorski, she could sure as hell understand that even a rock like Walt Longmire needed someone to talk to, and while she continued to be surprised that he allowed that someone to be her, she wouldn't begrudge him anything that he needed right now. The man hadn't hesitated to offer his help when she needed it, even when it obviously caused problems in his decidedly complicated personal life, and she owed him for that.

"Vic?" Belatedly she realized that Branch had been trying somewhat unsuccessfully to get her attention. She looked up guiltily. "I said, do you know anything about that situation?" He nodded to the closed door. She shrugged. No way in hell she was revealing what she did know. Well, see, Lizzy is of the opinion that Walt and I have feelings for each other and are simply too scared to act on them. That was a conversation she would initiate about half past never. She couldn't deny that it had given her food for thought, however.

Her marriage had been over for a long time. She was just putting off the inevitable; they both knew that. Sean had had someone else for a while; he hadn't made a secret of it. The divorce would be final soon, and then he was taking a transfer out of here as soon as he could. He hated it here and couldn't wait to leave.

And this was her home now. She had told herself it was due to the people she'd met; they were her family now. That was partly true, although now that she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that it was mostly down to Walt. Her home was wherever he was. And it wasn't until that night at his cabin and Lizzy's indignant commentary that she had even begun to entertain the notion that it wasn't an entirely one-sided attraction. Since that night, however, it had been all she could think about.

Was it possible that he could feel the same? Walt Longmire wasn't a get-in-touch-with-your-feelings kind of guy. She was the first one to admit that. But she liked it about him. She was the same. He was a straight-up, honest man. As maddening as that could sometimes be, it was nice to know where you stood with the man. He didn't play games, and that was rare. She liked that about him. And yet, lately she was getting the distinct impression that he may be as affected by her as she was by him.

But what difference did it make, even if he was? Walt Longmire was a one-woman man. That was plain to see. Lizzy had been right about at least one thing; it was plain to see that the man was still in love with his wife, and probably always would be. It was hard for her to find fault with him for that. That kind of love and loyalty was hard to find, in any man, or woman, for that matter. Lizzy really hadn't given him much of a choice; she had more or less thrown herself at the man, had worn him down until Vic thought he'd spent time with her more because he was lonely than out of any particular affection for the woman.

Vic wasn't that kind of woman and never had been. She was a lot more like Walt than she cared to admit, and she had too much pride to throw herself at any man. If she and Walt were ever going to be together, he'd have to meet her at the very least half way. She was pretty sure he was on his way, at least as much as she was right now. But she needed more. If she was going to put her career and her reputation and her heart on the line for this man, she needed more. Now she just had to figure out if he had more to give, and if he even wanted to go down this road with her. And if he did, just what in the hell she was prepared to do about it. She needed him. She knew that. But even if he needed her half as much as she thought he did, she was pretty sure hell would freeze over before he would admit it.

The door opened abruptly and all eyes in the office flew to it. Walt was holding it open, ever the gentleman, his expression as stoic as ever, and Lizzy looked like she'd been crying. She managed a small smile for their benefit and then walked out without a word, and Walt didn't wait for the censure of his team, just turned and went back into the office, shutting the door quietly but firmly behind him. Case closed, as they all knew.

But, as had been inexplicably happening more and more often these days, all eyes went to Vic. She looked at them with her very best "whaaaaaaaaaaat?" expression, but they weren't buying it. She knew Ruby was still hurt at being shut out, but they couldn't keep on expecting for her to go in there and talk him out of his funk. He needed to learn to communicate, damn it. She shifted her attention back to her computer for all of two minutes until the weight of their collective stares threatened to bore a hole through her flesh.

In exasperation, she finally looked up at them, and then sighed. She hadn't been elected to this position but apparently that didn't matter. She was now the Walt Whisperer. Damn it to hell. Shaking her head, praying for a call out that wasn't coming soon enough to save her from the very last conversation she wanted to have, she dragged herself to her feet and opened the door without knocking.

ooooo

Walt sat at his recently salvaged desk, his jaw cradled in his palm, wondering how things had gone this wrong. When Cady had been in the hospital in critical condition, he had told himself that it was his fault, because he had allowed the night before to happen, because he had put what he had wanted at the moment before the needs of his child, the one thing he had sworn all of his daughter's life that he would never do. But that wasn't quite true, was it?

He didn't love Lizzy, as much as he'd tried. He'd had no business spending that night with her, as much as he may have enjoyed it at the time. It wasn't right. It wasn't honest. To tell the truth, he was ashamed of himself. Because he had enjoyed it. Hell, he was a man. What red-blooded man wouldn't have enjoyed it? Lizzy wanted him and had made no secret of that. She'd liked the looks of him from the first moment she saw him and she hadn't made a secret of that, either. And he couldn't deny that he was flattered. Lizzy was a beautiful woman. She was fun to be around, and she thought he walked on water. What wasn't to like?

But she wasn't Martha. He didn't love her. He should have done the right thing and let her down easily: told her from the very beginning that she was a good woman and he was flattered by her interest but his heart was otherwise engaged. He was paying for that now.

But really, he was still somewhat confused by her ire. There wasn't a damn thing between him and Victoria Moretti; he'd told her that the other night and he'd told her that today, for all the damn bit of good it'd done him. She didn't believe a word he said, and frankly, he didn't blame her. He hadn't exactly acted honorably when it came to her. He'd tried his damndest to do the right thing and stay away, but in the end, he was just a man. He was lonely, and it had been a long time. What she'd been offering him on so many levels had just been too tempting to resist forever, though Lord knew he'd tried.

But the idea that she was jealous of Vic was just too ridiculous to dignify with a response, though he'd tried in vain to do just that. Vic was, for him, safe, because there was exactly zero chance that anything would ever happen between them. For God's sake, Vic was too young, too beautiful, and too married for him to even think of having a chance with her. Hell, he knew that. Why didn't Lizzy? He was an old man. What could she possibly see in him? It embarrassed him to admit that to Lizzy, but he'd done it anyway. Hell, the woman was the best thing that had happened to him in a long damn time. His life was so fucked up right now. He didn't want to let go of the only good thing he had, even though it was the right thing to do. He was tired of being alone, tired of going home to an empty house and an empty bed every night.

He did his job, fulfilled his purpose in this life. He gave it everything he had, to the detriment of all else. Hell, he had no life but this office. And he'd been fine with that, until this woman had come along, reminding him of what he'd had and what he'd lost, what he'd been missing.

And suddenly it wasn't enough anymore. But he was some piece of work, wasn't he? A wonderful woman came along, more than he deserved, wanting him, taking the time and making the not inconsiderable effort to pursue him, to woo him, warts and all, and did he appreciate it? Did he appreciate her? Did he appreciate exactly what she'd done for him, for all intents and purposes waking him up to life again, to what he needed and what he'd been missing all this time?

Of course not. All it had done was make him realize that the one woman he wanted to go home with every night was the one woman he could never have: one of his deputies, Victoria Moretti. Vic. And apparently he wasn't subtle about it, either, if Lizzy of all people had picked up on it. Hell, even Lucien Connally had noticed something a few weeks back. He'd just shook his head, throwing out a laconic "You don't shit where you eat, Sheriff." And that was that. It had flabbergasted him at the time. What in the hell had there been for anyone to see? He'd shut down anything he felt for her. Hadn't he?

Because it was impossible. He knew that. She was married. And even if she wasn't, she wouldn't want him. He was too old, too stubborn, too set in his ways for a strong modern woman like Vic. She didn't take any of his shit, never had, never would. She was way too good for the likes of him.

But so was his Martha. And they'd had so many good years together. Lizzy wasn't wrong; he still loved Martha and always would. She was wrong about Vic, though. There was nothing there, nothing but trust and friendship.

And then he heard Martha's voice in his head, like he still did from time to time. Aren't those the things you build a relationship on, Walt? Isn't that exactly where we started, and look what we built, together?

He couldn't argue with that, but Vic was her own woman. She wouldn't be satisfied with the very little that he had left to give. Would she?

He couldn't think about that now. He'd done the right thing, for the first time in a long time. He'd let Lizzy go. He didn't love her like she deserved to be loved, and he'd done the right thing and told her that. He'd hated hurting her, and he'd hate like hell to go home alone tonight, again, but it was the right thing to do. Damn it. Now he needed to get back to work.

The door opened without warning, and he found himself looking into the worried brown eyes of his deputy, the very last person he wanted to see right now. And it seemed like the universe certainly had a sense of humor. Because the very last person who should be looking at him right now like he alone held the key to some vital secret was standing in front of him, and he had absolutely no idea what to say to her.

A/N2: This was supposed to be a one-shot... got a little out of control... TBC...