I picked up an old photograph of Walt and me, one taken from happier days. He had just won the election, and he and I were locked an embrace that to the untrained eye, looked innocent. His hands were on my shoulders, and our eyes locked in a gaze so filled with electricity that I'd expected either one or both of us to start smoldering.

"Thanks, for all you do for me," he'd whispered into my ear.

"All part of the job, Boss" I'd joked

Damn, how could I have been so stupid? That was the perfect moment to whisper to Walt my true feelings for him, but I'd chickened out.

But then, lately my actions regarding Walt have been stupid. I cringed and almost spit out my mouthful of beer when I recalled how I'd arrived at Walt's cabin, a six pack of beer in hand and my shirt unbuttoned. In retrospect, I am grateful that only Henry was at the cabin when I'd arrived there, and that I had the opportunity to erase that damn message that I'd left earlier on Walt's answering machine.

"Did I miss something when I was in prison?" Walt's best friend asked me when he opened the cabin's door and saw me standing there.

Looking at the photo again, it became clear to me that I was the one who had 'missed something'. I had thought Walt cared for me as more than his best deputy. Hell, Lizzie thought there was more to my relationship with the sheriff than one of boss/subordinate.

Sure, I am a good cop and I know it. But Walt and I, in addition to being colleagues, were friends.

Or, until he met Donna Drugdoctor, , had been friends. Lately we've only been talking about cases and other work-related topics. I know he is pissed at me for being helpful to Eannnon while he filled in while we searched for Branch's permanent replacement.

I missed the days of easy banter with him, whether we are on a call or enjoying fries and beer at The Red Pony.

Hell, when the FBI was investigating Barlow Connelly's death at Walt's cabin, I was the only deputy whom Walt would trust to run the Department while he was on administrative leave .

Reaching under my bed for the stash of chocolate I kept for emotional breakdowns, I grabbed a piece of melting candy and popped it into my mouth. I recalled the conversation Walt and I had before he took his leave of absence.

"Vic, I need to count on you. Even when I'm sorting out this mess with Barlow's death, I need you to be the strong professional that I've come to know"

I'd tried to hold back my tears, so I only nodded an affirmation as I'd stared up into his beautiful blue eyes and resisted the urge to caress his bristled cheek. He took one of my hands in both of his and my throat went dry. Was he finally gonna throw caution to the wind and kiss me?

"Ferg, especially, will be looking to you for leadership,"

" I understand," I'd replied.

"Good."

A glance at the clock told me that it was only a few minutes after nine in the evening.