Here's the next chapter! Bit of language in this bit, between Vic's thoughts and everything else. She's not exactly having the best day, here. :P

Jackson
Part III

Friday Afternoon

Jackson, it had to be said, was a lot nicer than your typical resort town. Sure, parts of it were kitschy and geared toward the skiers and tourists that flocked there in the winter months, but as Vic and Sean strolled down Broadway and around the Town Square she had to acknowledge that the place had a certain artistic western charm.

The morning had been spent pleasantly enough. The kitchen facilities allowed Vic and Sean the luxury of being able to have a lazy lie-in without needing to leave the room for much-needed coffee. The weather was brisk but sunny, so they sat out on the balcony and chatted while they enjoyed their caffeine and soaked up the panoramic view of the mountains.

They had walked into town with nothing particular in mind, exploring the shops and stopping off for a satisfying late breakfast/early lunch in a café on Cache St. It has been the most at ease she'd felt in Sean's presence for a while now, and it made her think back to days in Philadelphia that seemed so long ago. The start of their relationship had been filled with laughter and fun excursions, and it was hard to reconcile that with this current reality where they were so disconnected from one another. Could they really start to fix things with something as simple as just peacefully eating a meal together?

In a way Vic was surprised that Sean hadn't been more insistent about sex the night before. The memories and further imaginings stirred up during her nap, not to mention the damn strawberries, had left Vic in a darkly contemplative mood that she couldn't quite recover from even with the aid of several glasses of good quality wine. Maybe both of them were finally starting to understand the futility of trying to patch over the trouble spots with sex, or maybe it was a sign that he was starting to give up… Vic suspected that by the end of the weekend, she might just know.

Vic had elected to stay outside while Sean browsed through a large fly fishing outfitter, partly to enjoy the sunshine but also with the ulterior motive of checking the cellphone that was carefully concealed within the inside pocket of her light jacket. Yes, she'd told Sean she was going to leave it home. But with everything going on at work she would have been way too on edge without it. Which, to Vic's way of thinking, would only have led to further arguments and strife.

Discreetly extracting the phone from her pocket, she stepped further under the shop's awning to avoid the glare from the sun. She unlocked the phone and glanced at the icons on the toolbar. No calls, one text message sent… she frowned slightly. A text message sent approximately twenty seconds ago? Vic touched the appropriate area of the screen to open her messages, the pit of dread growing in her stomach as she noticed the number the text had been sent from— the contact was unlabeled, but the Philadelphia area code made it all too recognizable.

Check your six, Moretti.

She whipped around, knowing by instinct from her unforgotten academy training that 6 o'clock means 'look behind you.' Her eyes scanned the street in the direction she and Sean had just come from, only to spot an unpleasantly familiar figure waving faux-cheerfully at her from an umbrella-covered bistro table outside a coffee shop on the opposite sidewalk.

Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.

Vic stowed her phone back in its pocket and averted her gaze just as Sean emerged from the shop with a small parcel. She smiled woodenly, mind reeling as they approached the nearest street corner. Sean was ready to head back to the inn, but Vic knew that there was something else that she needed to do first. She looked over her shoulder, hating that smug half-grin even from a distance.

Just what I need right now. Ed fucking Gorski.

x

Chewing on the lie she'd just concocted in order to split off from Sean, Vic felt exponentially lower than she had about bringing the cellphone or hiding her gun and badge in the bottom of her duffel bag. Yes, she'd brought those too. In her haste to cook up a plausible excuse for her solo excursion, Vic had told Sean that she'd seen a lingerie shop back on King St. and thought she might, you know, go and pick up a little something.

Yeah, great. Lying, concealing the fact that she was being stalked, using sex that she wasn't even sure she was interested in as an enticement… she might as well just tell Sean about her X-rated Walt dreams and go hire a good divorce attorney right now. Maybe Cady could give her a referral? That conversation would go well. "Hey, Cady. I've got a rampaging love/lust 'thing' for your dad. By the way, do you know any good divorce lawyers?"

As she hurried back in the direction of where she'd seen Gorski, she wished she had her sidearm with her, at the very least. Not that he was likely to try anything right out in the open, but time had taught her not to trust.

The bastard even had a coffee waiting for her, fixed exactly the way she liked it.

"Heyyyyyy Moretti! They're really serious about this 'cowboy coffee' thing out here in the west. Beats the hell out of the piss they serve at Starbucks, eh?"

She perched stiffly on the edge of the chair across from him. "What do you want, Ed?"

"You always act like you're not happy to see me, I don't get it."

Leaning forward, Vic employed her best intimidation face. "Yeah, well, my life tends to start sucking when you show up."

Ed laughed, displaying a new-and-improved row of teeth. "And you think that's my fault? Sounds like someone has a guilty conscience."

That brought her up short, if for no other reason than that she did. But her guilt, her doubts and misgivings, had nothing to do with Ed Gorski— not anymore— and he had no way of knowing what was in her heart and mind. She had no intention of letting the son of a bitch reach into her private thoughts to manipulate her into turning against herself, but Ed seemed to have a knack for getting under her skin.

Crossing his arms casually, Ed tipped his chair back. "By the way, I saw your boyfriend before I left Durant yesterday. He didn't see me, but you know, I didn't want to bother him or anything."

"Walt isn't my boyfriend."

Vic realized her mistake as soon as the words passed her lips, and it took every ounce of willpower she had to keep her hand from flying up to cover her mouth like a third grader who'd just said the f-word in front of her parents.

As expected, her slip-up seemed to bring Ed great amusement. "Funny how you knew exactly who I was talking about! Walt, Walt, Walt. Now there's a man who could use a bit of fun in his life— always so serious. Bet you could find a way to loosen him up a bit…"

"Look. I don't know why you're here or what you think you can do, but I'm not gonna let you hurt anybody else."

His eyes narrowed. "Why would I need to hurt anyone? You're doing such a good job on your own, Vic. I can just stand on the sidelines and watch you crash and burn."

Rising, she faced him down, hands on her hips for confidence and emphasis. "I hate to disappoint you, but everything's good here. I'm gonna have a great weekend with my husband, go back home, do my job, live my life. Maybe you should go live yours and leave me the hell alone, Ed."

"Wow, I sure am glad to hear things are going soooo well." He let her take several steps away from him before continuing, his timing just right to disrupt the ebb and flow of panic and relief that warred within her. "I saw Sean, too, last night after I got into town. How is Sean these days anyhow?"

Vic paused, throwing a pissed-off glare over her shoulder. She knew his question was rhetorical, so she remained silent.

Her erstwhile stalker seemed unperturbed by the hostile response, and with Ed the sting always came right at the end. "Boy, he must really have a thing for strawberries, because I could have sworn you were allergic!"

And there it was, the string to tie it all together. I know you better than your own husband does, he was saying. I know what and who you're really thinking about. She'd let Ed Gorski under her guard again, and Vic wasn't sure who she hated more just then— Ed, or herself.

"Catch you later, Moretti. Go Phillies!"

x

She had walked back to the inn on auto-pilot, at one point nearly failing to notice a 'DO NOT WALK' sign at one of the busier intersections. And wouldn't that just put a cap on her day? She already felt like she'd been hit by a figurative truck, so getting herself smushed by a literal one would have provided a nice round ironic balance. Nevertheless, she made it back to the room in one piece and found Sean lounging casually and pretending to be interested in an issue of Fur, Fish, and Game.

"Hey."

"Hey," he set the magazine aside and pulled himself into an upright position. "Find what you were looking for?"

Vic's head was full of fuzzy, jumbled thoughts. "Hmm?"

He stood, taking a step toward her and tilting his head to the side. "…at the lingerie shop?"

Brain finally clicking into gear, Vic realized how it might look for her to return empty-handed from her supposed shopping expedition. "Oh! Umm… no. It wasn't really my style. Too many frills. Where the hell is good old Victoria's Secret when you need it?" She turned away from him to gaze out the window, afraid that something in her face would betray her if she dared look him in the eye.

"I don't know," she heard him say, voice growing ever closer. "Frills aren't always a bad thing."

She felt one of his hands as it landed at the curve of her hip, the other wrapping around beneath her arm and stroking its way up the side of her ribcage. Vic tensed. She was most definitely not in the right mindset for this, but if it distracted Sean from her thinly-veiled deception, maybe it was for the best…? Doing her best to relax, Vic leaned her back against Sean's chest as he slowly wound her into his embrace.

His breath was at her ear. "I wouldn't mind checking out a few of 'Victoria's secrets' myself." He pressed a kiss to her neck, one hand slipping its way inside of her jacket and—

"What the hell is this?" The nature of his touch changed suddenly, fingers scrambling to extract the carefully hidden object from her inside jacket pocket.

The warmth of Sean's body was swiftly withdrawn, and he held the cellphone aloft as she turned to face him. "I—" She shook her head back and forth, watching his eyes darken and narrow with anger. "I'm sorry, Sean. I had to bring it. With everything that's happening at work—"

He rolled his eyes and made an incredulous noise, throwing the phone down on top of the down comforter in disgust. "Right, I get it. So is that where you really were? Having a nice, leisurely chat with Walt Longmire while your poor dumb fuck husband thought you were out buying sexy underwear?"

Shit, this was bad. She certainly couldn't tell him where she'd actually been, but the lie he seemed to believe was even more damning than the truth. "No, Sean. That isn't— I wasn't—"

"Whatever. I'm going out for a while."

The door slammed behind him and Vic sank down onto the bed, pressing both palms to her forehead in frustrated exasperation. She spotted the cellphone out of the corner of her eye, and her traitorous mind briefly wished that she really could call Walt. If she just heard his voice for a few minutes, maybe it would give her the strength she needed to find her way out of this mess. But she knew she couldn't do that, not now, not like this. What would she even say to him if she did? No, she'd dug herself into this hole and Vic knew it was her responsibility to find her way out.

xxxxx
xxxxx

I admit to having a certain soft spot for Gorski, especially as portrayed in 'Population 25.' I wanted him to be a bit funnier here, but he'll get another chance later.

My limited research into the town of Jackson indicates that there is in fact a lingerie shop on King St., so at least Vic didn't make that part up...

Let me know your thoughts on this chapter, and theories for the rest of the story! What will Vic do? Will she have more dreams about Walt? Will Sean calm down? How much cowboy coffee will Ed drink? And off on the distant (but not un-important) horizon, what is going on with Walt anyway?

Reviews will net you a fancy schmancy cocktail of your choice! ;D