Ch. 8

"Wow, this is impressive."

He smiled, really smiled at her. He was obviously pleased with himself. Vic surveyed the dinner he had laid out on the table when she came in from work.

"You don't mind if I change first?"

Walt shook his head.

"No, I'll fix us some plates."

Walt felt oddly like he was on a first date. He couldn't help but grin when she came back from the bedroom. She wore the pregnancy well. Whatever he was feeling, that much was obvious. She smiled nervously.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're making me paranoid grinning like that."

"It's just...you look really good is all."

She looked down at her casual clothes.

"Okay."

"I mean in general. For a pregnant woman."

He was stammering now and realized she was staring at him. Walt shook his head growing frustrated. Vic touched his arm softly.

"Hey, Walt, calm down."

Her voice calmed his nerves. It was a subconscious reaction to the soothing tone she used.

"Sorry. It just feels like..."

"A first date? Yeah, it kinda does. We never really had an official first date though."

He slid her a plate laden with steak and baked potato.

"Well, this can be it then."

She took a bite and offered him a smile.

"Wow, Walt, that's really good."

He returned her smile.

"I'm glad you like it."

x

"You're full of surprises lately."

Walt gave her a confused look. She gestured towards the table.

"I had no idea you could cook."

He shrugged, embarrassed.

"It's nothing fancy but I can do the basics."

Her smile was enough to light up his entire world. She had been so sullen and depressed lately. Anytime these days when she looked remotely happy, it was made his day. He couldn't place the point at which his own happiness became so intermingled with hers. This brief time her RV had been parked outside his house had been a respite for them both. She was recovering from her gunshot wound and he was trying to muddle through his trial. Sometimes it felt like they were the only two people who understood what each of them were going through. He'd been a little shocked that she had been agreeable to his moving her home. Since then, her had tried to maintain his focus on taking care of her. It helped him forget his own troubles.

After the meal, she had helped him cleanup. He had protested but it had only earned him an eye roll. She stood in his kitchen drying her hands.

"Thanks for dinner. I should probably head back over."

He cocked his head.

"Why?"

"I don't want to mess up your evening or anything."

He looked around the quiet cabin.

"What are you messing up exactly? Me sitting alone?"

She shrugged.

"I just don't want to get on your nerves."

"I don't think that's possible."

He noticed she blushed slightly and gestured towards the couch.

"Want a beer?"

She hesitated and then nodded her head.

"Sure."

He retrieved two cans from the fridge and handed her one. She took a long swallow and he felt a little jealous of the can. Walt chastised himself internally. The last thing she needed was him complicating her already emotionally wrought frame of mind with his feelings. He had already acknowledged to himself that the feelings he had been pretending weren't there were, indeed, there. He realized he was staring at her and that she had noticed. She was giving him a questioning look.

"What?"

Her voice was unusually soft. He broke his eyes away from hers before he did something stupid and shook his head.

"It's nothing. Just thinking."

"About?"

Walt turned the can around in his hands, staring at it.

"Everything's kind of a mess right now. I'm glad you're here."

He worked up the courage to look up and she was watching him with a soft look in her eyes. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. He took a swallow of beer instead.

"Walt, can I ask you something...personal?"

His brain screamed no. He recognized that they were piloting dangerous waters. He concentrated on the can.

"Sure."

"What happened between you and Donna?"

It was not what he'd been expecting. He sighed and lifted his gaze to meet hers. Her eyes were fixed on him intently, peeling his layers back like an onion.

"Nothing much, to be honest. A mutual parting of the ways. I think we both realized things weren't what we wanted them to be and that wasn't going to change."

Her eyes remained fixed on his and he couldn't look away. Vic finally did breaking the trance. Her eyes flicked downward to her own can. She stood suddenly.

"I really should go to bed. I'm keeping you up."

He wanted to protest. He wanted her to stay. He didn't because he knew what dangers lay down that path.

x

When they had finished dinner, they cleaned and washed the dishes together. It did not escape him that he didn't feel the need to fill the silence with meaningless chatter. He felt comfortable with her and she didn't seem to notice the lack of conversation. When they were done, he sat next to her on the couch and again marveled at how good she looked.

"You're staring again."

He shifted his eyes away.

"Sorry."

She smiled at him wryly.

"Don't apologize. Some days I feel like a damn whale. A little appreciation goes a long way."

He looked down at his hands.

"You're beautiful."

He summoned the courage to look up and saw that her eyes were glistening with fresh tears that had not fallen. He smiled shyly. Slowly, he leaned forward. Several emotions ran across her face. He recognized fear and desire before he closed his eyes and pressed his lips lightly up against hers. After a brief hesitation, she responded. His hand came up to cup her cheek. Walt pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.

"Not too bad for a first date."

Her shoulders shook with laughter as she leaned away from him and took a breath.

"No, Walt, not too bad at all."