Vic pounded her steering wheel in frustration. She grabbed the wheel with both hands, her knuckles turning white. Her arms tense. The music coming from her truck's radio was more an irritant than a distraction, so she turned it off, and rolled down both front windows, hoping some fresh air would calm her nerves.

When her cell phone rang she jumped. Ruby's name flashed on the screen, announcing her caller. She thought about ignoring it. She was off duty. Headed home. Ruby's call could not possibly bring good news, and would likely put her back on the clock. She decided to let it go to voice mail.

She continued towards her destination, her hair whipping in the wind. She thought about putting her head out the window and screaming. Suddenly her phone rang again, Ruby's name once more displayed.

"Damn it," Vic cursed underneath her breath.

She looked at the offending phone, and then gave in, reaching across the seat to pick it up.

"What's up Ruby?" she asked tersely as she answered.

There was a pause. "Hi Vic. Are you still at the hospital?" Ruby's voice greeted Vic with kindness. And patience. Making Vic feel guilty about how she had answered. She should not be taking this out on Ruby.

"Actually, no. I've picked up the medical reports. I also have the ballistic results. They confirm all of our assumptions, but add nothing new. I was closer to my house than the office, so I am headed home. I'll bring them in first thing tomorrow."

"Walt radioed in, asking if you could drop them off at his place on the way home. He's continuing to work on the case tonight, and needs the documents."

Vic paused, taking in a deep breath.

"Sure thing Ruby. See you tomorrow." Vic hit the steering wheel again, and then pulled a U-turn and headed in the direction of Walt's cabin.

It's not that she didn't want to see Walt. She did. In fact seeing him might do her, and her current disposition, some good. But she didn't think she wanted him to see her. She was all wound up. The images of the victim kept playing in a loop in her head, giving her a headache. Her eyes were burning, a mixture of exhaustion and building frustration. All related to the case they were working. Or mostly the case. The specific day, and how it started, might have had something to do with it as well.

When Walt's cabin came into view, she felt her grip on the steering wheel relax. Maybe this was a good idea. Maybe he could provide just the uplift she needed. She pulled up in front of his place, put her truck in park, and then shut off the ignition. She re-did her ponytail, took a deep breath, and then stepped out of the vehicle. Before she had even shut her driver's side door, Walt came bounding down his front steps to greet her.

"Vic, you're early…" he began.

"Early?"

"I mean, you got here quicker than I expected. Ruby just called me to say she'd gotten ahold of you."

"Oh…well, I guess I was closer to your place than Ruby realized," she said. "Crap," she added turning back towards her car, opening the door and leaning across the driver's seat to grab the folder of reports. Her reason for being here. She turned around and handed them to Walt, who stared at them blankly.

"The reports you asked Ruby to ask me to drop off," she clarified.

"Right," he said. "Thanks."

She paused, looking hI'm up and down.

"Why are you acting so weird? What's going on?" she asked.

"I'm not acting weird."

"Yes you are. You're kind of fidgeting, and giving me that look you get when something is going on in that head of yours that you don't want to reveal. And you practically ran down the stairs when I pulled up," she said. "Reminds me of that time Ferg and I came over to drop off your truck, and you ran outside to greet me because you didn't want me to know that Lizzie was here."

She looked up at the house, pausing to listen.

"Do you have someone in the house? Is that music I hear?"

Walt's eyes paused on her face, and then back towards his cabin. "It's just me. No one else. Other than you, that is. And yes, that's music. A little Fats Waller."

"I didn't know you had a stereo in your place," she commented.

"It's my parents' old record player. I found it in my closet when we were clearing things out."

"Oh," she said.

Walt looked back at her. "Are you alright?" he asked, stepping closer.

"Yeah…" she started. He placed his hand on her arm, causing her to look down. She saw his fingers encircle her wrist. Gentle. Soothing. "Well no, it's been kind of a rough day," she admitted, looking up, her eyes locking with his.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked.

She wanted to say yes. She thought she might say no. She didn't say either.

Walt stepped beside her. Putting his hand at the small of her back, he guided her towards the cabin. But instead of sitting down in their usual place at the top of the steps, he steered her towards the right side of the porch. Vic looked over at him quizzically. He ushered her towards the far end and then stopped in front of something large that lay hidden beneath a cover.

"Take a look," he urged her.

A crease appeared between her eyes as she pondered the object, and then she hesitantly stepped forward. She reached out her hand, placing it on the corner of the material, and gave a pull.

"Oh Walt. It's beautiful. Perfect for your porch."

He smiled. "It's yours. I mean, it's for you."

She looked over at him. "For me?"

"For your birthday. A while back you commented about sitting on a porch swing and watching the sun set. It's not quite a swing. More a glider. I hope it will do."

Vic's eyes began to well up, which she tried to hide from him. She leaned over and slid her hand along the smooth wood.

"You remembered. My birthday. I thought you'd forgotten. You didn't say anything all day."

"You can usually read me like an open book. I wanted it to be a surprise, so I decided not to bring your birthday up until I could really celebrate it."

"Where did you find it?" she asked.

Walt paused.

"Oh…did you make it yourself?"

"Henry and I did."

"Where? I never saw you working on it."

"At Henry's place. In his workshop. So it would be a surprise. Plus he has all the cool tools," he said, smiling. She smiled in return.

"You guys did an amazing job."

"And there's another part of the surprise. Inside. And it should just about be done."

Vic raised an eyebrow, but followed him. When he opened the front door she was overwhelmed by the smell of something…wonderful.

"What? Is that…? You've got to be kidding me. Is that…pizza? Real pizza?" she asked, breathing in deeply. "Where the hell did you find real pizza in Absaroka County?" She rushed into the kitchen to peek into the oven.

"Holy crap! It looks like real pizza," she said looking back at hI'm. "Seriously. Where did you get it?"

"Uh…Philadelphia."

"What? Wait…is this pizza from my uncle's restaurant?"

Walt smiled in confirmation.

"How the hell do you have my uncle's pizza cooking in your oven?"

"I called your mother to get your uncle's information. And then coordinated with him. I told him to make your favorite. He made it fresh, and then shipped it frozen overnight, with instructions of how to heat it up."

Vic was speechless, and she felt her eyes getting misty. Walt looked over at her as if he was trying to read what she was thinking. And then the oven timer went off, pulling them both out of their thoughts.

Walt took the pizza out of the oven. He opened the fridge, pulled out two beers and a salad he had prepared and placed them on the kitchen table. He then stepped next to Vic, who had been staring at the stovetop. When he pulled out the pizza cutter, she looked over at him, and then over at the table.

"We're bringing this birthday dinner outside so I can eat on my birthday bench. I'm not missing my first sunset," she said with a smile.

Walt laughed in return. He divided up the pizza, and then placed a couple slices on each of their plates.

"Silverware?"

She scrunched up her face and shook her head. "Oh wait, I guess we'll need forks for the salad." Between the two of them, they brought their meal out to the porch, and then Walt returned to the cabin. He opened up one of the windows so they could hear the music from outside, grabbed his cordless phone and then brought out the rest of the pizza and one of the kitchen chairs so he could rest the pizza on it. He placed the phone on the railing, telling her that he was expecting Ruby to call at some point.

They ate in companionable silence, their plates on their laps. Vic closed her eyes and appreciated each bite. Walt couldn't help himself from watching her. She only caught him staring once. A fact he only felt slightly guilty about.

After numerous slices and a couple servings of salad, Vic finally came up for air. She gathered up her and Walt's empty plates and cans and brought them into the kitchen. She returned with two more beers. Walt looked up and smiled when her fingers lingered on his when she passed him a Rainier. She sat back down, brought the can to her lips, and looked at him over the rim.

"Tell me about your day. Why was it so rough?" his voice low, his pace slow.

Vic scooted up both her legs onto the bench, placing her arm around her knees. "When our case involves the murder of a child, it just gets to me. More than usual. Tears me up inside that someone could do this. To a kid. I feel an extra burden to do all I can to find the killer. And extra frustration when we keep hitting dead ends. Toby deserves better than this. His family deserves an answer. Peace of mind."

Walt nodded.

Vic stared out before her, the sun hovering just above the horizon, the mix of red and yellow playing off the few clouds in the sky.

"The divorce papers arrived today. On my birthday," she said, still looking forward. "I am not re-thinking anything. I signed the papers immediately. It is the right decision to end our marriage. But I feel like a failure. All day I've been thinking that I am another year older, and have nothing to show for it. I couldn't keep my marriage together. I can't solve this frickin' case." She paused to take a sip of beer.

"And it all came to a head this afternoon," she said, her eyes growing moist. "When I was at the morgue, being walked through the autopsy results. The images of Toby's small little body laid out on the table are stuck in my head. On one side I had this self-doubt and feeling of failure, and on the other this disdain for mankind, and the things people will do to each other. Like murder an innocent child. So overall, kind of a crappy day."

Walt reached out and put his hand on top of hers.

SHe looked over at him. "Until now. You've restored my faith in the goodness of people, Walt," she said with an earnest smile. "You make me feel like I matter."

"You matter to me. To all of us. And you're not a failure. You've made a difference to every family you've brought closure to by solving the murder of their loved ones. We're going to figure out who killed Toby. Bring him justice."

Vic intertwined her fingers with his. "Thanks," she said, squeezing his hand. They both looked back out at the setting sun, which was just moments away from disappearing. The silence that hovered between them was comforting, and they sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the last of the sun's rays.

"So tell me…what did you think about Uncle Al's pizza? How did it rate against your finest pizza in Durant? Or what I call 'fake pizza'...looks like it could be pizza…has all the ingredients that should go on pizza…and somehow comes out tasting…not like pizza. But don't let me bias you. Tell me what you really think. But keep in mind that my uncle can probably hear you all the way from Philly. He has incredible hearing."

"I feel absolutely no pressure right now, so thanks for presenting a very neutral position," he said with a straight face. She laughed. "I'm kind of partial to Henry's pizza…" he started.

"Compared to the rest of the pizza options in the area, I am with you, Henry's sucks the least. But come on. It doesn't come close to that glorious masterpiece we just consumed."

Walt paused, as if he really needed to ponder his decision. He could no longer keep a straight face and smiled. "I could probably be convinced that this pizza may be deserving of all your praise these past couple of years."

"I will take that as a thumbs up for Uncle Al's pizza, with maybe a little reservation. We can get you over that, in time." She took his hand and swung it over her head and around her shoulders, leaning back against him, and extending her legs along the bench. He pulled her in closer, her head now resting on his shoulder.

"So Ruby was in cahoots with you," she said.

"What?"

"In your plot to get me over to your place without suspicion."

"Oh that. Yes."

"You better be careful…the whole Peter and the wolf thing. One of these days Ruby is going to call, and I am going to think it is just you trying to pull one over on me, and I'm not going to respond. And you are going to be somewhere in real need of my help, and I'm going to be drinking a beer from the comfort of my couch," she said, unable to hide the smile threating to break through. "I'm just saying…" she added.

"I'll keep Peter in mind in the future," he said with a smile.

"Good," she said. "Although I've got to admit, Ruby is always convincing, so I'm not sure I will ever doubt her."

She felt Walt nod behind her. She could feel his heartbeat through his chest, and found it reassuring. It lulled her into a comfortable silence.

"You should call me."

"What?" she said turning her head slightly to look up at him.

"If you ever feel like you were feeling today, you should call me. Or pull me aside at the office. Of stop by the cabin. I know what it is like to be in your head all day. How isolating that can be. How it magnifies everything. Sometimes you just need someone to listen. Or sit with. Make you feel like you're not in it alone. And that's what I can be for you. Someone to remind you that you matter."

She paused, continuing to look up at him. And him at her. "Ok," she said.

Suddenly Walt's cordless phone rang, making them both jump slightly.

Vic sat up, and he leaned forward and picked the phone off the railing.

"Hello," he answered. Someone on the other end spoke. "Uh huh," he said. The caller continued. "I will," he replied. The voice on the other end rattled on. "I won't," he said, suddenly laughing. "Thanks. Bye Ruby." He hung up and looked over at Vic.

"I am not supposed to tell you there is a third surprise for you. I'm just supposed to bring you to the Red Pony for a drink. But the gang is there, ready to surprise you with a party they've been pulling together, in honor of your birthday."

Vic paused. "They remembered too!"

"Everyone has been planning for your birthday for weeks. And no one wanted to blow the surprise so it looks like everyone avoided you today. Which may have backfired. But they are about to make it up to you, if you are up for it. Although I really need you to act surprised if you agree to go."

She smiled at him. "Sure."

Walt stood up, taking the phone and the two empty beer cans with him. He quickly stepped inside and placed them on the coffee table, turned off the record player and most of the lights, and then returned to join her at the top of the steps. They walked towards the Bronco, their sides rubbing together with each step.

When they reached the driver side, he turned toward her. "Happy Birthday. I just realized I never said it. And you are going to be swallowed up by the others once we get to the bar, so I just want to make sure I said it to you personally."

Vic suddenly grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her, giving him a kiss. Soft. Brief. Without a word she released his lips and made her way to the other side of the car.

Surprised, Walt took a moment to gather himself before stepping into his vehicle and starting it up.

"Too bad we need to go to the Pony," she said, rolling down her window.

"What, you don't really want to go?" he asked.

"It's not that. I do want to go. But usually after having really good pizza I like to have really hot sex."

Walt stilled. She looked over at him, and he turned to look out the window.

"Don't freak out. I'm just kidding."

Walt paused. "I'm not freaking out," he finally said. "Just looking forward to the other four pizzas your uncle sent, that are in my freezer, ready to be heated up at a moment's notice. And I want to change my vote to an unqualified two thumbs up. No reservations. You're right, your uncle's pizza is unquestionably better than Henry's."

Vic's laughter rang out as the Bronco pulled away.