This is a first chapter that has been sitting around forever and I don't think it will ever be more than that. Just a little something to tide us over till the 10th cause it will never be this easy between them...lol.
The Super Bowl crowd dissipates and there's not a tortilla chip left in the tri-county area. Walt living up to his promise helps Henry with the crowd playing half-bouncer, half-bus boy and a whole lot of dishwasher they make it through the biggest bar night of the year.
Cady and her college roommate are on a Super Bowl cruise enjoying the frivolity of youth. Vic rolls in relieving Ferg and she rolls up the sleeves of her olive green Henley cracking wise in the process.
"Hey I don't work for free despite any lies this one may have told you." She laughs and cracks open a longneck taking very long and very appealing swigs of the cold brew.
Walt points, "I'm due one of those."
She smiles and hands him a cold bottle of beer.
His long scarred back covered in a soft worn navy blue cotton long sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled presses against the bar facing the half clean, half swept room, and he drowns the bottle in three long gulps.
Reaching back and opening another longneck she joins him with the same fast results. The third beer has him back in the dining room busing the rest of the dishes.
"I'll get the broom and start sweeping over here." She says and she does while she drains her third beer and of course Walt takes that as a challenge. He polishes his fourth and finishes cleaning, moping, wiping and moving.
When they are done he grabs two more beers and they sit at opposite ends of one of the freshly cleaned tables. It's just them in the glow of the neon and fresh pine smell of clean.
"Where's Henry?" She asks like she just now notices he's not at the bar.
"Driving drunk customers home." He smiles, his fingertips press into the wooden table, "You know how he is." He points to the pictures and the rings of keys, "He'll keep those keys as long as he has to."
Walt gives her a half smile and makes it half-way through his bottle. He feels the buzz begin as he sets the amber colored glass on the table.
"Why did you stay?" His inner voice didn't stay inner.
Her eyes dart to his but she doesn't show surprise. She doesn't show anything. It's almost as if she expected the question.
"You asked me to."
"Does that mean you will do whatever I ask?" His eyebrows rise and he surprises himself with his boldness because it definitely has connotations.
She laughs, "I'll take the bait but only because I've had four beers. What did you have in mind to ask?" Her smile stays perched on her lips. It's a nervous gesture just like his fingertips on the table.
He drains the last of the beer, "I'll think of something." And the flirtatious smile spreads across his lips.
"Don't wait too long Walt." She challenges him.
It's quiet between the two of them as they both realize they have said too much, too soon, with too many implications and complications.
"I'll be embarrassed in the morning won't I?" He offers like he's talking to himself, chastising himself for letting the chains off of his desires.
"Probably," She answers, peeling the label off of her bottle, exposing the colored glass beneath containing the truth serum.
Walt reaches out and touches her hand, she clasps the bottle a little tighter, his fingertips trace over hers, and his omniscient eyes travel their path finding hers glistening, staring, and giving permission.
"I don't want to be embarrassed." He says so soft, not letting this get away.
"We're too drunk to drive." Vic lays out the logic of the situation because she knows him and she knows this is an anomaly and anomalies are usually a disaster that's why they are called anomalies.
He rubs his long thick fingers across his lips, engaging and thinking, acknowledging that she hasn't moved her hand and hasn't discouraged him either.
The distinct sound of the glass filled wooden door shutting snaps them both back and as Henry's boots make their way through the double saloon doors Walt retrieves his hand and Vic her glance each fully aware their drunken murmurs are just as meaningless as their sober casual flirtations.
"Did I interrupt something?" Henry says slightly askew.
Walt looks at Vic, his eyes not leaving her, "Yeah, everything."