I do not own Longmire.
Love Paradox
Chapter 1: Ten Things You Shouldn't Do On a Date
Vic was extremely nervous in anticipation of the evening ahead. She was at long last going out on a date with Walt and she was on noticeably on edge. Sure, she'd had a meal or two with him before, but that usually consisted of a greasy burger and fries from some dive bar along the road while on a case. Tonight was going to be different. Tonight was going to be unlike any they've spent together before.
She and Walt had taken the tentative steps into beginning a relationship just this past week. Sure, they'd flirted with each other, tried to drop signals at various times, but this was the first time they'd been both honest with themselves and each other.
Riffling through her closet, she was having trouble finding the perfect outfit for their date. Jeans were to casual, and a suit to formal. Actually, she didn't have too many date clothes. Her typical outfit was either her deputy uniform or a pair of sweats she'd throw on after work was over. She'd gone through the rack several times before she spotted it. A light blue lace print sundress with vibrant pink flowers. It was so unlike anything he'd seen her in before. It was perfect.
Deciding on a pair of wedge sandals, and small gold hoop earrings for accent, she placed her hair in a loose bun, applied some pale pink gloss, spritzed on a bit of perfume and waited for him to arrive.
She and Walt were going to the Bunkhouse Bistro four towns over for a late supper. Sure, they could have dined at Henry's, but for their first date, they didn't need anymore pressure so they thought staying away from their usual hang out spots would be the best idea.
On the other side of town, Walt had just gotten out of the shower, Rainer in hand. Talk about anxious. He'd had not been on a proper date in some time and Lizzie didn't really count. She more or less attacked him from the get go and he felt some weird obligation to entertain her advances. Vic was different. He'd had a crush on her from the moment he met her and the culmination of years of frustrated feelings were finally coming to an end.
Heading to his closet he considered the choices before him. A suit would seem to formal and denim to casual. Searching until he was near the back, he found an outfit Martha had purchased for him years before. Still in the plastic casing from the cleaners, Walt carefully considered the choice.
He couldn't help but think about Martha during these times. She had brought it for him; the love of his life. How would she feel to have him wear it out on a date with another woman? And as if have been given the sign to go ahead, the shirt slipped from the hanger from inside the bag to the bottom.
Walt could almost see her now. Admonishing him for being so stubborn, and foolish to boot. She would want him to be happy, and frankly, it was time to let her go. Living in a memory is no kind of life at all. Besides, he was sure he'd see her again one day.
Pulling on the beige stretch slacks, long sleeve white mens dress shirt and cognac lambs leather vest, he had to admit, he cut quite a handsome figure. Placing his customary cowboy hat atop his dome, he headed for the door and escapades unknown.
Ten minutes later he arrived at Vic's place and leapt out the vehicle. He couldn't describe the feeling exactly, but if he had to pick one that was closest to what it seemed like, it would be giddy. When she opened the door, the words got stuck in his throat. She looked positively sun-kissed. He'd seen Vic in civilian clothes before, but nothing ever like this. His eyes danced as he tried to take in every inch of her lovely frame.
He hadn't been on a proper date in years and didn't know the exact protocol. And thats when he made his first mistake; not opening the car door for Vic. If it had been Lizzie for example, he would not have hesitated in performing the chivalrous act. But because it was Vic and he was so used to her opening her own door, he didn't even think twice about it. But Vic did think twice about it. She wasn't really upset that he hadn't opened it for her, she just didn't like the connotation that it evoked.
Walt's second mistake was not telling Vic just how beautiful she looked. Though he thought it, the words never manifested. Vic was not vain in the least, but what girl didn't want to hear that she looked nice, especially when she'd taken the time to make sure she looked special just for him.
Now in the driver's seat, Walt swallowed hard as he used his peripheral vision to stare at her legs. When she climbed into the jeep, the dress slid up slightly, exposing her well toned and tanned thighs. If he hadn't been seated, he may have crumpled to the ground because the thought of what lay under the remainder of her dress made him weak in the knees. It also left him temporarily paralyzed.
"So…" she asked as they sat there in the jeep, unmoving, "are we going?"
"Um, what?" Walt answered through the haze.
"Are we going to dinner or are we going to sit here all night?"
Brought back to his senses, he pretended as if nothing was wrong, "Of course we are. Let's roll."
During the hour long drive to Lewes, Walt made his third and fourth mistakes. Vic had begun the conversation with some light banter. She remembered what it was like to date so she keep the topics to neutral subjects. Movies, of which Walt had seen none. Television shows, of which he hadn't watched. Celebrities, none of which he'd even heard of. After a while she just gave up and decided to enjoy the scenery along the way. That's when Walt finally piped up. The problem was that his choice of topics left Vic uninterested. He started in talking about several cases they had open at work. None of which evoked a romantic vibe. They involved a murder, a runaway and poachers. He kept this up the remainder of the ride and when they arrived, he leaned over toward her. Vic took a deep breath in anticipation of what he would do next but was nonplussed when he reached past her, opened the glove box and pulled out his sidearm.
"Really, Walt?"
"What?"
Her face deadpan, she wanted to know the reason for the piece. "Walt, we're on a date and you want to bring your gun into the restaurant?"
"Well, you never know what might happen."
Vic couldn't even muster a response.
"Didn't you bring yours?"
"And just exactly where would I put it?" A sarcastic smirk on her face.
Walt was about to answer but wisely stopped short. What he was thinking was that she could surely place one in a holster and strap it to her creamy thighs.
God, this was going to be a difficult night.
"While I appreciate the idea of you trying to be protective, let's say we put the weapons away for the night. Just say'n?"
"Uh, sure."
Already beginning to get pissed, Vic then opened her own door and waited as Walt exited. She didn't want to embarrass herself by waiting for a repeat of what happened earlier.
Walking side by side to the entrance, their hands brushed against each other. Vic had hoped Walt would take hers in his like they were sweethearts, but instead he shoved them in his pants pocket.
Fuck!
Inside the restaurant and seated at the linen covered table, Vic made a conscious choice to take control of the date. Things had not been going as planned and if she didn't step up, it would have been like all the other times they'd eaten together. If that was the case, they'd might have well just ate at the Red Pony and Continual Soiree.
So, Vic refocused her energy and changed up her body language. Taking on a more flirtatious tone, she huskily whispered her words to him and twirled a strand of hair which hung lose.
Walt barely noticed.
His fifth, sixth and seventh mistakes all came in secession. He began to talk about Martha, then Lizzie, then had the gall to inquire about Sean.
Didn't he know you weren't supposed to talk about ex's, let alone your dead spouse on first dates?
Though sympathetic to his feelings, Vic rolled her eyes periodically and thought to herself, "This cannot be real."
She managed to push down the slow burn which began to creep up and turn her neck a particularly violent shade of red.
Maybe this had all been a miscalculation on her part. This wasn't the Walt she'd hoped to be presented with. The Walt she wanted was the one she was used to. The cute, tough and witty Walt. Not the on edge, loquacious and seemingly devoid of the opposite sexes needs Walt.
Vic decided to try and get through the evening as best she could. Besides, she didn't believe Walt had even noticed that she'd disengaged. As he sat there talking incessantly; which was clearly out of character and mistake number eight, Vic began to tune out.
She knew Walt hadn't meant to come across so distance, but it did hurt her. Though they were just starting out, and through no fault of his own, she wanted the evening to end almost as quickly as it had begun.
Hell, he hadn't even ordered wine for the table. Mistake number nine.
And before she knew it, this hellish nightmare of a date had come to an end.
When they arrived back at her place, Vic hurriedly opened her door and before she got out with clenched jaw, she tersely wished Walt goodnight.
For Vic, the most egregious of mistakes came when Walt hadn't even bothered to get out of the jeep and walk her to her door. She was hoping to salvage the evening with a kiss goodnight, but none was forthcoming. Then she slammed the door behind her without another look back.
Walt, for his part knew he had messed up. He hadn't meant for the evening to be so horrid. As the young kids said these days, it appeared he didn't have any game. Vic meant the world to him, not only as a deputy, but as a friend and he hoped as a romantic partner. To know that he'd let her down so caused him sorrow. He had struggled so hard this evening to be captivating and only managed to have had her zone out. Oh, he'd noticed. It had happened somewhere around the third course.
How could he have been so stupid to talk about his undying love for Martha? Or Lizzie; a woman he knew Vic couldn't stand, let alone ask about her ex-husband for that matter.
Shit! He'd really screwed the pooch on this one.
To his own chagrin, he knew what needed to be done now. And not less than a third of the way home, he brought the jeep to a screeching halt and turned in the opposite direction back towards Vic's place.
Taking the four steps that lead to her porch two at a time, he banged on the front door.
Already in her sweats, Vic yanked the door open, concern on her face.
"Walt, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Wh… What are you doing back here?"
"I had to come back Vic. I needed to explain my behavior tonight."
"Walt, that's not necessary. I …"
She began, but Walt cut her off.
"Just let me get this out okay?"
Vic nodded her head in agreement.
"Vic, I owe you an apology. I don't know what came over me this evening. I know I did everything wrong; I just couldn't help myself. You know me. You know I have a style all my own, but tonight, I humiliated myself. When I first saw you walk out that door, I should have said what was in my heart and that was that you looked the most beautiful I'd ever seen you. I was eager to make a good impression, but I failed. I should have been myself and not pretended to be the guy I thought you wanted me to be. I wasn't even sure what to say to you, as ridiculous as that seems. Victoria…"
When he said her name, she smiled the smile she reserved only for him and he finally relaxed.
"… you give me the hope that I can love again."
Mouth gaped open, Vic was surprised he was being so honest with her.
"Vic, I want us to try again. I want us to do this right. So, I'm asking. Would you please go on another date with me?"
Vic stared at him, shocked. This was the moment of truth. If she said no, she was sure he would never brooch the subject of a relationship with her again. But she didn't want to say no, so she gave the answer he'd hoped for.
"Well, Walt, I reckon so." she responded with a smirk.
Then Walt did what he should have done the second he dropped her home. He embraced Vic passionately and planted a sweet and delicate kiss on her lips.
And before the spell could be broken, they parted ways, the hope of tomorrow to come.
