"O, I am fortune's fool!" Romeo and Juliet
Ch. 1
8:34 PM
Bad things happened to good people. Walt Longmire knew this. He knew that sometimes it seemed to be fate. People you loved came down with fatal illnesses. People you loved were taken on the whim of addicts and criminals. Good people were driven mad with obsession. He knew sometimes the choices people made had a direct correlation to the end results and the bad things that happened. He had always prided himself on taking responsibility for his actions. It was one of the first life lessons his father had taught him. He had, in turn, attempted to teach his own daughter the very same lesson. One couldn't simply blame the cosmos for the tragedy in life all the time. Sometimes, you had to see the truth for what it was.
He had lived this moment before, both in reality and in his darkest nightmares. It had been a series of moments that had dragged on for an eternity. Ever calm and cool on the outside, his nerves had been warring on the inside. In his dreams, it left him in a cold sweat, unable to close his eyes for fear it would recur. The players were somewhat different. The scenario was also not the same. But the possible end results were just as unthinkable and just as disturbing.
"No one has to get hurt here."
He tried to keep his voice calm and even. Tricks of the trade. This wasn't even his trade anymore. Walt kept his hands steadily in plain sight. No sudden movements. Cop 101. Inside, he was having the same war. That much was the same. That much would never change.
The man was sweating. His nerves were getting the better of him. He would also be having an internal debate. Was it worth it? How had it wound up like this? No one ever planned for the worst case. They lied to themselves and told themselves they were ready. But you can't be. Until you've lived it, it's not possible. The man's hand trembled ever so slightly. The movement caused the tip of the handgun to shift against her head. Walt saw her swallow. It was the only tell at how nervous she was. She, too, had lived this moment. Her life had hung in the balance once before on the edge of someone's finger. Her eyes were fixated on his. Even, as he spoke to the man, they held her gaze. They both sat precariously on the edge of oblivion. Her literal life and the life he existed in hung simultaneously in the air.
"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, man. I'll kill her. I will."
It was a theory he had no desire to test.
"No one thinks you're stupid. All I want is for everyone to walk out of here."
The man's eyes flickered to the corner of the room.
"Little late for that."
Walt felt his jaw clench.
"There's still time. He's still alive. This can still have a good ending."
"Good? I'll be in prison. How is that good?"
"You won't be dead. You won't be a cop killer. You'll have a shot at freedom once you've done your time."
Walt could feel sweat rolling down his back He hoped it wasn't visible. Calm was important. The man in front of him sniffled a little and made a face. Stress was etched into every facet of his body from his face to his posture. He took a deep breath.
"It's too late."
14 1/2 Hours Earlier
He knew she was smiling, even though her face was buried in the white pillow case. Her arms were under it, holding it in place.
"C'mon, Vic. Humor me."
She rolled from her stomach to her side, her hair falling into her face. She brushed it back and blew a few strands from her face. Resting her elbow on the pillow, she propped her head up on her palm and tried to look serious. She was failing miserably. With him, in private, she had no poker face. She had long given up on attempting to hide her feelings from him. He was gradually learning the same. It was one of the things that had initially drawn them together. Acceptance without judgement.
She nodded her chin towards his left.
"The blue one."
"Really? I feel like I wear blue a lot."
"You wear blue denim all the time, Walt. Looks good though. Brings out your eyes."
"That's not really what I'm going for."
Her shoulders moved in a shrug.
"You asked."
He studied the shirts he was holding and sighed. He stuck them back on the closet rack and sat on the bed. Doubt clouded his eyes.
"Maybe this isn't the best idea."
"Why do you say that?"
"The goal of retiring was to not be in law enforcement anymore."
"Walt, it's the police academy and all they're asking you to do is consult once in a while with students. Are they even paying you?"
"Yep."
"So, call it semi-retired."
She ran her free hand over his bare leg. The physical contact caused an immediate reaction in him. Pavlov's dogs had nothing on him. He wondered how she possessed the ability to make him a fifteen year old boy again.
"You're trying to distract me."
She smiled a smile he found deliciously mischievous.
"Is it working?"
"Yep."
She sat up, letting the sheet fall away from her. He reached for her on impulse, his hand closing around the back of her neck and pulling her towards him faster than she was coming on he own. His lips met hers. He felt her hands tangle into the hair at the back of his head, pulling him impossibly close.
7:26 AM
"Are you still gonna be able to meet Henry tonight?"
Walt fiddled with his shirt collar and nodded. Vic set her coffee mug down and moved in front of him. Her hands fluttered lightly around, straightening the collar of the new shirt. He hated new clothes. They always felt stiff and refused to cooperate.
"There, don't touch."
"Yes, ma'am."
She lifted her cup and took a sip.
"So?"
"Yeah, I'll be there."
She nodded and drained the rest of her coffee. Setting the mug in the sink, she ran the back of her hand over her lips.
"Okay, I gotta run."
She rose up on her toes to kiss him lightly, while adjusting her belt and cuffs.
"Good luck."
He smiled a little.
"Something tells me I'll need it."
She patted his chest.
"You'll be fine."
She was gone like a breeze. That's what she always reminded him of. He forced his mind back to the present. It was time to get this show on the road.
