Call It Dreaming
Summary: It occurred to me that while I've done post series stories and one shots, I've never really picked it up from the last ep and done a complete story. So, this is basically my version of what happens after the closing credits. My aim is to keep this true to the characters. Canon compliant and spoilers apply for the entire series. Alternating POVs.
Ch. 1: Wash me clean
"You need stitches."
Her voice was insistent on the surface. Her eyes were on him, alternating between his face and the bloodstain on the front of his shirt. At least it was his own blood this time, not hers. But, it dawned on him that both of them had lost so much more than blood.
"It's not that deep."
Walt tried to inject some reassurance into his voice. Vic clearly wasn't going for it. He could see the worry and the fatigue etched into her face. Not for the first time, guilt pulled at him. Again, he was the cause of the pain he saw in her.
That wasn't what he wanted.
Not anymore.
Not ever.
The sun was setting around them as the scene was processed and cleaned up. Thankfully, his wound was the only one sustained on their team. Everyone else was tired, but intact and uninjured. The day seemed incredibly long even as the sinking sun cast an array of orange and red around them.
The effect gave Vic an almost halo effect as she stood in front of him looking disgruntled at his reply. She raised her eyes and looked off at some unseen point in the distance. Walt took the few seconds that her attention was diverted to look at her.
Really look at her.
Her shirt and jeans were streaked with dirt. Her ponytail was somewhat messy after tackling men, pushing him from in front of a moving vehicle, and attempting to doctor his wounds until the ambulance arrived. Walt waved them off and told them there was a dead man who needed to be taken for autopsy. He knew it irritated her. She was uncharacteristically quiet. Until she took him by his arm and pulled him aside.
Away.
He expected her to lay into him about numerous things. But, something inside of her seemed drained, her usual spark of indignity displaced somehow. Still, she pushed him to go to the hospital and get his stab wounded tended properly.
That would take time. And, Walt was tired of time slipping by him unnoticed.
Their kiss in his Bronco on the edge of all this was still on his mind. He suspected it was on hers as well. They hadn't discussed it since the radio crackled to life and they jumped apart like a pair of teenagers caught necking. He knew his timing wasn't great. The points she made were valid, however, and struck him. In case, just in case, he wanted her to know.
Know what? He wasn't absolutely sure.
Here, on the far side of it all, alive and intact, he wanted to find out.
There were so many unknowns surrounding them right now. Literally. Figuratively.
"Walt."
His name left her mouth tinged with a warning. In some ways, it gave him hope. It reminded him of the old Vic. The one who existed before she was shot. Before she suffered a nearly unbearable loss that left her seemingly unanchored by anything except her grief.
He was seeing these glimpses more and more. Although, they were still interspersed with bouts of sadness and pensiveness. She was thoughtful and quiet now in ways he hadn't seen before. No one went through trauma and came out unscathed.
That was true of them all.
It occurred to him, sitting in the truck with her, that despite all the differences in them that kept him from moving towards her all this time, that they were held together by something that was even stronger.
Shared experience.
The value in understanding what someone you cared for was going through couldn't be measured. Despite all the lies that he steadily fed himself over the years, he did care for her. More than he should. Possibly more than he had a right to.
The question was were they too broken. There was no point in pretending that they weren't both fractured people with enough emotional baggage to fill an airport terminal. But, was it possible that the pieces of themselves might somehow fit together to form something that was whole and good?
Walt wasn't sure.
He hoped. That was something that abandoned him until recently.
Hope.
Loss was an odd thing. There was no roadmap out of it. It was such an individual thing. No two people responded to it the same. Still, he was farther along in his own loss than she was. Somehow, he pushed through the darkest parts of it and here he was on the other side. It would never leave him. He was learning to live with it.
He knew that Vic was deep in the maze of her own loss. The pathway out still wasn't clear to her. But, as she swooped in at just the right time and gave him the push that he needed, he wanted to offer her the same. He knew he could never bear the load for her. But, he could accompany her through her own private hell. Try and ensure that she didn't get lost in the trappings of her own mind in the way that he did for so long before realizing what it was doing to him and those he cared about.
It was human nature to search for connection. Even when it seemed to be against your own will. That's what he found in her. A connection. A spark of an unidentifiable nature.
"Come to the cabin with me."
Her eyes were back on him in an instant. He hadn't quite meant it the way it sounded. Hell, maybe he did. He rushed to clarify and ease any fears that might exist inside of her.
"I'll clean it up and…we can have a drink."
He needed one. Based on her expression, she wasn't all that far off. He knew her truck was at the office, parked where she left it. He would take her to it if that was what she wanted. He hoped that it wasn't.
For what felt like an eternity, she simply looked at him. In the fast fading light of evening, her eyes were the most impossible shade of gold. He could have sworn that they were glowing. Her expression was equal parts thoughtful and intense.
Never one to hide her feelings, Walt could almost see the battle that she was having with herself. Her eyes left his face and moved down to the blood stain on his shirt. The bleeding had stopped. That was something. They held there for a series of seconds before she inhaled a slow, deep breath.
As she released the breath, she lifted her eyes back up to find his. Pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth, he could see her starting to give way to his…he wasn't sure what to call it. Offer? Suggestion?
"Okay."
Her voice came out low, barely above a whisper. Then, something more familiar flashed across her face and there was some comfort to be found in that.
"But, if it starts to look any worse…you will go to the hospital and you will get it looked at."
It wasn't a question. It was yet another sign that the old Vic was still there. The thought created a flicker of hope deep inside of his chest as the barest of smiles started to spread its way across his face.
"Deal."
xxx
No one seemed to mind when he rolled in to work much later than normal. Maybe they figured with the prior day and evening, he was owed a little downtime. He did have a stab wound, after all. Truth be told, the slice in his skin where Malachi Strand's knife went in didn't hurt all that much. He had certainly been injured worse than that. There were scars all over his body to prove it.
Scars.
He couldn't say for sure what led him to open his shirt in front of Vic and allow her to watch something he normally kept to himself. Beyond that, he wasn't sure why he felt compelled to show her a few of the raised marks that littered his torso. To her credit, other than giving him a look of slight disbelief in his use of vodka as an antiseptic, she hadn't flinched.
Instead, she reacted with a curiosity of her own and inquired about the scars that cut him the deepest. In more ways than one. He spared her the entire story, long and convoluted as it was. Although, there was a sneaking suspicion in his mind that they might revisit that life event at a later date. She seemed to accept his Denver explanation even as she moved behind him and lifted his shirt with hands than hesitated only slightly.
It wasn't so much that they hadn't touched before. It was that this particular touch came after the kiss he pulled her into while they sat in his Bronco on the edge of a potential gunfight. It felt like something out of an old movie.
But, this was real life.
It didn't come with a script.
He inhaled deeply and swallowed as her hands made a soft pass over each scar, the tips of her fingers brushing his skin. Even as well as he knew her, the softness of her touch surprised him. So, did the hesitance. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her. He heard her breathing shift as she lowered his shirt and her hand skimmed across his side on its way to his newest wound.
Another scar.
It seemed like a fitting metaphor for everything that was happening in his life.
Her receptiveness to his kisses hadn't surprised him. Vic did little over time to keep her feelings from him. On the contrary, she was the one who attempted to push him into facing his own feelings and admitting what he was so damn afraid of.
The depth of emotions and desire that flooded him when she finally put her arms around his neck and pulled him all the way to her gave him the slightest pause. In truth, outside of Martha, his experience with women was brief and checkered. As much as he loved his wife, as satisfied as he'd been with their life together, Vic was an entirely different woman. He managed to force the doubts out before they really took root.
So far, he found it best not to compare the two women.
It wasn't fair and it did them both a disservice.
He paused at Ruby's desk to offer her a smile and collect his mail along with whatever post-its she passed along to him. She greeted him the same way that she always did, nothing seeming amiss about his late arrival.
"Good morning, Walter."
"Morning, Ruby. Anything I need to know?"
She glanced up at him.
"Mathias called. Twice. The rest is the usual."
He nodded as he shuffled through the stack in his hand, mentally delegating what needed his immediate attention versus what could, and would, wait. He tossed it all on his desk and removed his hat, hanging it up.
Not bothering to close his office door, he took a seat and slapped the yellow note with Mathias' name and number written in Ruby's familiar handwriting front and center. It was no doubt about Jacob Nighthorse and the paperwork that ensued after their joint operation the day before. He was ready for any fallout that might come his way and not overly concerned about it.
Malachi Stand was dead. Unable to threaten or hurt anyone else that he cared about. Unable to use his own people as pawns in a never-ending game of greed. As much as he disliked death these days, there was some level of satisfaction to be found in the fact that he would never have to deal with the man again.
Jacob Nighthorse was in jail. There was a lack of clarity on what all charges he would face, but they would be steep. There was still the potential for a federal investigation if Mathias saw fit to handle it that way.
"Walter, have you talked to Vic?"
Her voice startled him out of his reverie and Walt looked up, unsure of what expression must have crossed his face.
"Huh?"
Ruby gave him a patented look.
"She hasn't come in yet. She hasn't called. Have you heard from her?"
"Yes."
He said it with conviction. Mostly because it was the truth.
"She overslept. A little banged up from yesterday."
A look of concern crossed Ruby's face.
"Is she okay?"
"Yep. She'll be in soon. Just needed some time."
Ruby nodded.
"Must be contagious."
That was all she said on the matter before she disappeared from his doorway.
He didn't like lying to Ruby. What other choice did he have in that moment? To outright tell her that they were late because they were in bed together? Then, having one of the most important conversations of their lives on his porch with Vic wearing his shirt and little else?
It was an image he tried to keep out of his head for the sake of not getting distracted.
As if by design, he heard the door open and close and he heard the familiar tread of her boots scuffle over the floor. He wondered at what point he memorized the way she sounded from another room.
"Vic, we were just talking about you."
As Ruby said it, Vic arrived at her desk in his line of sight. She paused and glanced away when Ruby spoke.
"Me? Why?'
Walt watched her, not bothering to hide it. As she put her things away, she cast him a quick look in a move that she had all but perfected over her time here. Their eyes met for no longer than a breath before she turned to Ruby.
"Walter was just telling me that you would be late. How are you feeling?"
Vic offered the older woman a smile and tapped her hip.
"Good. Bruised from pushing a certain someone out from in front of a moving car."
He heard Ruby make a sound and could picture her shaking her head.
Vic gave him one more look before she sat down. From his seat, Walt looked at her back. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail just like it always was. His eyes ran down the back of her neck to where her shoulders sloped underneath the material of her shirt.
As much as he tried to fight it, his mind betrayed him and reminded him what it felt like to press his mouth there and pepper her bare skin with kisses. The unavoidable chain reaction was an entire series of events running through his mind.
The way she tasted.
The way she smelled.
The way she smiled at him with a smile that he hadn't seen before.
The way her hands felt on him.
Walt dropped his eyes to the note that still sat in front of him and forced his thoughts to redirect themselves. He needed to call Mathias. Lifting his phone, his eyes were drawn back to Vic as she turned slightly and pulled open her top desk drawer, sifting through it for something, and pushing it back closed.
It was going to be a long day.
xxx
In some ways, it was just like any other day. Except the part where she was late to work because she was in her boss' bed. That part was throwing her one hell of a curveball. She still found it hard to believe that Walt actually made a move.
It seemed like such an ant-Walt thing to do.
Or, maybe not.
The old Walt for sure. But, this newer version that emerged since her shooting was different. The change certainly wasn't bad. On the contrary, she was a hundred percent sure that she wouldn't have survived the last couple of months without the seemingly endless support he offered her without being asked.
So, in reality, she supposed it shouldn't have come as such a surprise when he kissed her. The signs were there that something was coming. Even after she recovered, she could see it all now if she really tried.
The way he reacted when she told him she was moving back to the trailer park. She tried chalking it up to Walt being Walt. She acted like nothing was amiss. Still, she caught the expression on his face. The way that he tried to nonchalantly make it seem perfectly natural for her to stay. To pretend like she hadn't said it.
The way he reached out and touched her during the stakeout when they were meeting Shane Muldoon. It was a simple thing really, wiping toothpaste from her mouth. Walt didn't do things like that, though. Walt sure as hell didn't do that where she was concerned.
At least, not before.
The way he placed his hands over hers while she was brushing the horse. That moment briefly froze her, stealing the breath right from her lungs. The initial touch was slow, cautious. But, it was no accident. When his second hand landed on hers, when she felt the warmth coming from him as he moved in closer to her for that brief moment, there was less hesitance. It hadn't lacked confidence.
Still, he wasn't there yet. When she smiled at him, he looked away, bowing his head. The entire situation left her feeling off kilter. Normally, she was more take charge when it came to men and relationships. But, this was Walt. And, her shooting left her feeling so unlike herself.
She felt as though she were going through some metamorphosis and she wasn't entirely sure who she was going to be when the entire process was done.
She felt uncomfortable and ill at ease in her own skin.
Until he kissed her again. This time in his cabin and everything else that was wrong in the world melted away, leaving only the two of them. That was how it felt to her, anyway. She couldn't speak for Walt.
He seemed…willing to take these steps. Anxious to take these steps.
It was a role reversal of the highest order.
Now hours later, here she sat in the passenger seat of his Bronco just like it was any other day.
It caught her off guard when he breezed from his office and asked her to ride out to the Rez with him. On the surface, it wasn't unusual. She frequently rode with him more than she used her own truck. It wasn't new.
Still, this felt different.
After a pause, she nodded and pushed up from her desk, abandoning her dull paperwork.
Now, he was quiet. His hand was light on the wheel, his index finger tapping out a rhythm with no real pattern. He was thinking. That much she knew for sure. As for the direction of his thoughts, she could toss out a guess even if she didn't know for sure.
She wasn't in the mood for guessing. Not anymore.
"Don't strain yourself."
She was trying to break the silence without being too heavy. God knows, there had been enough of that. He gave her a quick look before he turned his eyes back to the road.
"What?"
A smile tugged at her.
It was another warm day and he wore only his denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. The move left his forearms exposed. They were tanned. Muscular.
Vic blinked, pushing that particular thought aside.
"You're thinking awfully hard."
Walt inhaled, no doubt thinking of his response.
"I was…wondering if you were okay."
He said it with some caution. Vic looked at him from behind the lenses of her sunglasses.
"Me? I'm good."
His head bobbed slightly.
"You sure?"
"Yes."
His index finger tapped again. He shifted in his seat.
"Good. I'm glad."
He smiled then and her heart skipped a beat. She nearly rolled her eyes at her own reaction. She smiled in response having absolutely no other choice. That damn smile.
He didn't use it all that often. When he did, it was quite the weapon.
"Is that why you wanted me to come with you? You don't need me for this."
"That and…"
He paused. Vic cocked her head.
"What?"
"I wanted to have lunch."
"Lunch?"
"Yep. We didn't…have much time for breakfast."
"So…you're making up for it with…lunch at…the Busy Bee?"
It was an educated guess on her part.
"Or…dinner if you like?"
It almost sounded like an invitation. She considered him carefully, still unsure of where their boundaries lie. Or, if there were any boundaries.
"Are…you…asking…me out?"
That seemed like an odd move considering it would obviously out them. That was something they hadn't even talked about yet. Along with about a hundred other things.
They hadn't established any boundaries just yet.
"In."
She was clearly puzzled by his reply.
"In?"
He nodded.
"We could have dinner at the cabin."
It was an invitation.
Walt style.
In. Not out. It made more sense.
She must have waited a beat too long to respond, still processing.
"We don't have to, Vic."
He sounded almost apologetic and she could've kicked herself.
"No, no. That's…that's fine."
"So…yes?"
"Sure. Dinner would be nice."
Nice?
Who said that?
Her eyes drifted to the clock on his dash.
"So…does that mean no lunch? Cause I'm hungry."
His face broke into another wide smile and something that felt tight in her gut released.
xxx
Leave it to Sawyer Crane to derail his plans.
Well, not so much derail as postpone. In all honesty, had Walt know it was Crane on the line, he might not have answered it. He very well may have pretended he didn't hear the phone, grabbed his hat, and left the office with a clear conscience.
Now, he was on the phone listening to the man drone on about Jacob Nighthorse and how important the casino was to the economy of Durant. Walt truly disliked the man and would rather talk to almost anyone else in the moment.
He knew it was getting late. Ruby was gone for the day. He knew that Ferg was gone, rushing out a bit early after leaning in and talking to Vic, whose expression took on one of amusement. Zach might be around, but Walt hadn't seen him in quite some time.
Vic was still moving around the main office, her attention clearly on her work. For a while. While Crane was droning on, he heard the shuffle of her boots over the wooden floor and glanced up to see her leaning in his doorway with questions on her face. She jutted her chin at the phone and he mouthed "Crane" in return.
Predictably, she rolled her eyes. She disliked the man even more than he did.
Time spread out around them as she stood and watched what turned out to be the tail end of a long conversation. Walt finally managed to get the man off the phone and hung up, relieved to be rid of the entire ordeal. Vic pushed off the wall and came the rest of the way into his office.
"He got a bug up his ass?"
Walt leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk.
"He wanted me to tell him about yesterday."
Vic made a face.
"What's it to him?"
"He doesn't want an interruption in business at the casino."
Something akin to a smile crossed her face.
"You know, I really do hope that Henry takes over and tells all these politicians to stick it."
Walt smiled a bit. That was a conversation he would need to revisit with Henry when there was time. His eyes moved by her.
"Everyone gone?"
"Yeah. Zach took a call and was going home after that. Although…I think he might have a girlfriend. So…maybe he's got a date. Ferg…"
She paused with a shake of her head.
"…is trying to come up with some plan to win Meg back."
"They broke up?"
"Yes, keep up."
Walt sighed.
"It's too hard. So, what's his big plan?"
She shrugged.
"Dunno. Something extravagant. Apparently, Meg's mom told him he needed a big…romantic gesture to get his point across."
Walt looked up at her, testing the waters.
"Is that what women want? Big, romantic gestures."
A beat of silence passed between them before her shoulders rose and fell again.
"Some, I suppose."
"Some?"
He echoed her and the corners of her mouth pulled up.
"Meg is young. I guess at that age, you still believe that kind of thing matters."
Walt stood up slowly and came around his desk.
"You don't?"
Her head tilted back slightly as he approached, maintaining eye contact.
"A little romance…can be nice. But, I think so many people get wrapped up in these…big moments that don't mean as much in the overall scheme of things. Let's be real…any guy can bring you flowers and wine to get into your pants…"
She paused and he felt a bit of red creep up his neck.
"…but…in my experience, it's the little moments that matter. Fairy tales aren't real. A prince isn't going to swoop in, slay a dragon, and save the day. It's…condescending if you stop and think about it. The damsel in distress needing to be rescued. Why can't she save herself? Why can't she and the prince work together to get rid of the bad guy?"
Her tone was soft now and he was standing only inches from her.
"Maybe, in the real version, they save each other."
Her eyes were on his, dark gold in the low light of his office. They dropped slightly at his words.
"That's the thing…we can only save ourselves."
"I think that's easier with company."
She breathed out a quiet laugh.
"Could be."
He wanted to reach out and touch her. She was certainly close enough. The expression in her eyes was intense. Challenging, almost. In some ways, he relished it. Because, that was the Vic he knew best. The one with the spark in her eyes who never accepted status quo. In the darkness that seemed to haunt her lately, she seemed to have lost some of that.
The small, but telling, glimpses that he saw gave him hope.
She would never be exactly the same. Just like he was never the same after losing Martha. He still believed it was possible to fit the pieces together in such a way that moving on was possible.
He was proof of that.
He cleared his throat.
"So…are you still interested in dinner?"
Her eyes eased up, releasing him.
"Why do you think I'm still here?"
She offered him a smile that was a bit tentative. He could see her trying.
"Red Pony okay?"
"Yeah."
She looked over her shoulder in the general direction of her desk.
"I'm gonna run home and change."
Walt nodded as he moved back around his desk and started to straighten it up.
"I'll pick up dinner. Any…preference?"
She shook her head.
"Nah, you know what I like."
She tossed it out there with no apparent deeper meaning. Still, the phrase still struck him on several levels. Both dietary and of a more personal nature. He did, indeed, know what she liked. And, he wanted to know more.
Walt forced his attention back to the matter of food.
"Okay."
Vic started out of his office.
"Vic?"
She stopped and turned.
"Hmm?"
He fished into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Pulling at the ring, he slid his cabin key loose and held it out.
"In case you get there before me."
He hadn't given the move much thought until he saw the expression that crossed her face. She paused longer than he was comfortable with before she took two steps in his direction, reached out, and took the key from him.
"When did you start locking your doors?"
"Recently."
It was a single word that carried a lot of weight. Neither wanted to delve into that just yet. She considered the key in her hand before stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans, her eyes flicking over his in a moment that made him feel like the victim of a hit and run.
"So…I'll see you in a while."
She backed away from him and it almost sounded like a question. Walt merely nodded as she reached his door, still partially walking backwards.
"Yep."
xxx
Vic tossed the key on the desk in Walt's cabin and looked around. She had only turned on one light as she came in. She wasn't uncomfortable in Walt's cabin without him. On the contrary, her time spent parked in his driveway acclimated her to it in ways she never dreamed of. Were she being completely honest, she half lived with him and half lived in her own RV.
Neither of them seemed to mind.
As a matter of fact, there was some comfort to be found in his steadfastness. The way he would cook and prod her into having dinner with him. She knew it was an attempt to get her to eat more than anything. Her appetite came and went like the breeze in spring. Sometimes, she ate. Other times, she pushed the food around on her plate aware that he was watching.
But, he didn't try and bully her into having an appetite. On the nights when she clearly wasn't feeling it, he simply put the food aside and pressed her to talk to him. The conversations were wide ranging and mood dependent. Again, she recognized what he was doing. But, something about the quiet, coziness of his cabin combined with the deep roughness of his voice soothed something inside of her.
She hadn't really wanted to move back to the trailer park. With her leg healing, it seemed like the right thing to do. Once she was parked back in her spot, she missed him. She missed eating, or not, with him. She missed the talks they would have late into the evening with cans of Ranier, or occasionally coffee.
A startling new intimacy grew between them, and it didn't have anything to do with sex.
He wasn't like any man she knew.
Despite what he might be feeling, Walt wouldn't allow himself to take advantage.
Vic was about to shrug off her jacket when she heard the Bronco coming up the road, the familiar rumble something she associated closely to Walt. For a few seconds, she debated staying where she was versus going out to meet him. On her way to the door, she cursed herself for her indecisiveness.
She pulled the front door open just as she heard his boots hit the stairs with a steady pace. As Vic stepped into the doorway, they nearly collided. Walt shifted the bag of food out of the way as he slammed on the brakes and stopped just in front of her.
No longer in the confines of the office, the air between them felt different.
He smiled at her in a way he never did at work. The same way he smiled at her the night before with that barely discernable quirk of his lips.
"Hey."
His voice sounded rough around the edges.
Without much obvious thought, in a move that mirrored his porch that morning, he leaned in and kissed her lightly on the mouth. There was something so natural in the act, that it squeezed at something in her chest.
She had seen Walt with women before. More than she cared to. For a confident man, women seemed to make him nervous and flustered. He never seemed quite on even ground with them. Now, none of that seemed to plague him. Not since he dropped her on his bed. There was no hesitance in the way that he touched her, or the way his hands found her hair and stroked it gently.
The physical contact, even when not sexual, felt alarmingly like a life preserver.
Between them, there was none of the awkwardness that tended to exist early on in relationships. At least, not here when they were alone. Maybe they were already too involved with each other emotionally for that. Maybe, the only new thing here was the sex.
Moving by her, food still in hand, Walt removed his hat and set it on the desk brim up. Vic removed her jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair as she trailed him to the kitchen. He set the bag down and started to pull out the contents. Vic crowded him and peered around his shoulder.
"What did you get?"
He paused and offered her a smile.
"I'm not sure. I told them just to make me a couple of plates of whatever was good."
She smiled.
"Living dangerously."
He nearly laughed as he removed the two take out plates and passed her one. Vic set it on the table as Walt moved to the refrigerator and pulled out two beers, placing them on the table along with his food.
Vic took her seat and popped the tab on her can.
"How's Henry?"
She flipped open the top of the plate to find chicken fried steak and vegetables.
"He wasn't there."
Vic looked up, liberating her plastic fork from the sealed bag that held it.
"You talk to him today?"
"Earlier."
"He okay?"
Walt nodded as he pushed his food around with his fork.
"Yeah, just processing."
"Understandable. He serious about the casino?"
She took a bite of her food and watched him as she chewed.
"Don't know. There's…some legal issues to work out."
Vic nodded, swallowing and taking a drink from her can.
"Are you really okay with that? Henry taking over?"
Walt clearly contemplated the question while he chewed. Once he swallowed, he answered.
"Yes."
His eyes dropped and fell to his can, his hand wrapped around it.
"I think that a good man stepping up might make a big difference. Nighthorse used it for profit. Henry would use it for good. To help his people."
"Could be a life changing move for him."
"Yep."
That was all he said. They ate for a few minutes in silence.
"So…how are you?"
Her eyes lifted.
"Um…we've been together most of the day."
He set his fork down.
"That's…not what I mean. This morning you were…"
Speaking of life changing.
"…unsure."
He pushed out the word like he was afraid of it. Vic leaned back in her chair, her hands coming to rest in her lap. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
"Yeah. I…still am, Walt. I can't…I want to be honest with you. And…I need for you to be honest with me."
"Okay."
The look in his eyes was so earnest it created a burn in the back of her throat.
"What is it…"
She spoke deliberately.
"…that you want from me?"
He looked puzzled. Maybe even hurt, which wasn't her intention.
"From you? I don't…want anything from you, Vic."
She shook her head.
"I didn't mean it that way. I just…I like this. It feels…it feels good. But…"
She took a breath.
"…I can't make you any promises."
He absorbed her words before responding.
"I'm not asking you to. I would like…for us to take our time. I don't…want to rush."
A wry smile crossed her lips.
"It's a little late for that."
He smiled in spite of himself.
"Emotionally."
The smile stayed in place.
"Oh, I see. You don't mind rushing physically."
Walt pushed his plate away, his eyes on her.
"No, I don't mind at all. Last night was…"
His words faltered. Her face softened.
"I know."
They sat for a minute or two simply looking at each other. Walt's eyes shifted to her plate.
"There's…something I need to ask you. I know I should have brought it up last night before we…"
He stopped and shifted in his chair as she looked at him curiously, waiting.
"Are you um…are you…I mean…we didn't use…"
He paused again as understanding washed over her.
"I'm on birth control."
He nodded slowly, looking almost relieved that she saved him.
"Good. I…I should have…"
Vic shook her head and waved a hand at him.
"It's okay, Walt. I…am not looking to make that mistake again. I took care of it at my last appointment with my OBGYN. It's…long term so I don't have to keep up with pills or anything. And…at my first…"
Her voice faltered a bit.
"…appointment after I found out I was pregnant…they tested me for everything under the sun. It all came back clear. I haven't…"
She paused.
"…been with anyone else since."
He accepted what she was saying and looked eager to move on, his eyes dropping to her plate again.
"Are you finished?"
Vic looked down like she had forgotten she was even eating and nodded.
"Yeah."
They stood simultaneously, making quick work of cleaning up. Once that was done, Walt leaned on the counter and looked at her. Vic smiled his way.
"Thank you for dinner."
There was a lighter lilt to her voice. Walt dipped his chin towards his chest.
"You're welcome. Sorry if it wasn't as big as what Ferg is planning."
She rolled her eyes and approached him one step at a time.
"Big…is overrated."
She stopped directly in front of him, raising one hand to finger a snap on his shirt.
"Most of the time."
She saw the effect her words had on him. His eyes dropped to her mouth before raising back to find her gaze still focused on him. Some part of her wondered if they should talk more. God knows, there was a shit ton of things that needed to be worked out. They had talked some. They seemed to be on the same page.
That was enough for now.
She took the final step towards him, invading his personal space all the way. Leaning in, she tucked her face into his neck and pressed a kiss there. Something resembling a sigh escaped him as his hands came up and found her hips. She felt his fingers bite in as she made contact again, kissing him just under his ear.
He tipped his face down.
"Vic."
It came out breathless, leaving little to the imagination. She tilted her head back and looked up at him.
"Tell me…what you want."
The words were whispered. His throat bobbed with a hard swallow as their eyes locked. He licked his lips once and swallowed again.
"You."