Ch. 13: somewhere in the vicinity
"Come on. Come home with me."
His voice was soft when he said it. Softer than usual, even when they were alone or in bed. There was a sensitivity to be found in Walt. You did have to dig for it. It wasn't something that was easily unearthed. It was a well-guarded facet of himself he showed to very few people. That along with the temper, roughness, and the deep drive he possessed made him more than a little interesting to her.
Hell, that was what drew her to him in the first place.
He was vastly imperfect and complicated. Not unlike herself.
She was tired. She knew that he was tired. Her first thought was to shake her head and tell him that all she wanted to do was get a shower and go to bed. She knew that his counter would be she could do that just as easily at his place.
He wasn't wrong.
The more thought she gave the proposition, the more it appealed to her.
The ride to her RV would be shorter. She would likely be out of the shower and ready for bed just as Walt was getting home. But, the upside seemed to end right there. If she went home, she would be there alone. The trailer park didn't afford the privacy that Walt's property did. His recognizable Bronco parked at her place all night would be telling. Not to mention, the RV was practical for her. It was much less so when Walt was tossed into the equation. He wasn't a compact man and he seemed ill suited to spend a great deal of time in such a confined space.
She also knew the state of her own kitchen. Not that Walt was much better. But, since she started spending a fair amount of her time there, he was putting in more effort as far as keeping food in his cabinets and his refrigerator. She didn't have much, if anything, in the way of groceries. She sure as hell wasn't stopping on the way to shop. She lacked the energy or the drive for that. Not that she was hungry. They ate dinner at the Busy Bee before it closed and the food was good, of course. In the morning, the story would be different, though.
She knew he could see that she was wavering. He tilted his head to the side and stepped in just a little closer. He looked poised to say something, but never got that far. Vic got tired of having the debate in her head and caved.
"Okay."
Walt seemed mildly surprised.
"Didn't expect you to give in."
Vic shrugged.
"I'm tired."
"You want to ride with me?"
He clearly didn't think through his offer.
"It's not going to take a rocket scientist to figure out something's going on if my truck is parked here in the morning and you and I are seen pulling up together."
He frowned. She understood. This secrecy stuff was a pain in the ass for about a hundred reasons.
"I'll meet you there."
He didn't give her any argument about that and they left in their separate vehicles with Vic telling him she was going to stop and fill her truck up to save herself some time in the morning. She basically forced herself to actually go through with it.
By the time she reached the cabin, he was inside and the windows were lit up with a warm glow that seemed both welcoming and soothing. She sat there in her truck for a minute just taking it all in. In the moment, it seemed surreal.
Inside, she found Walt sifting through the mail. When she came through the door, he tossed it onto his desk and didn't look at it again. She resisted the urge to make a comment. In light of her eviction after her divorce, she didn't have any room to talk about looking at mail in a timely manner.
Vic locked the door. It was a habit borne from being raised in a city where you normally had more than one lock on the door and they were well used. She never grew accustomed to the habit locals had of keeping their doors unlocked here. She knew she never would. An unlocked door was almost a request for trouble as far as she was concerned.
He had already removed and hung up his hat and toed off his boots. They sat by the couch, one turned over on its side. The cuffs of his shirt were unbuttoned and the top few buttons of his shirt unsnapped. There was something irrepressibly homey about his entire bearing. He offered her a smile as she removed her own boots and started to unload her belt onto his coffee table.
Cuffs. Badge. Holstered Glock 9mm.
It was her way of disconnecting from a part of herself that Sean never really understood back when they were married. He would humor her and pretend to get what she was trying to tell him. He never really did, though. Over time, he simply stopped trying. So did she.
The last items to join the collection were her keys and her cell phone.
On her shoulder was the overnight bag she kept in her truck most of the time these days. She never really knew where she would spend the evening unless it was actually planned out. Her life had turned transient like that after Sean left and she lost their house.
First at Cady's house. Then, her RV. No one would ever consider it permanent. The fact that Walt moved it so easily after she was shot was proof of that. It seemed to symbolize where she currently was in her life.
In transition.
Vic offered him a tired smile and made her way into to the bedroom. With Walt, there was no need for invitations or offers. That wasn't the way it ever felt here, even before they ventured into this portion of their relationship. She always felt at ease here. She suspected that had more to do with Walt than the walls of the cabin and its contents. But, none of that mattered.
She heard the soft tread of his feet behind her as he followed her, pushing the door closed slightly. Not that it mattered. They were the only ones here. Vic let the bag slide off her shoulder and hit the floor with a thump as she turned.
"Do you want the shower first?"
Vic looked up at him with a smile. The light in the bedroom was dim. Without either of them wearing boots, the height difference seemed accentuated.
"We could…save some water."
He clearly understood her suggestion and a smile tugged at the edges of his mouth.
"We could. Thought you were tired."
She pushed up on her toes, closing the gap between them and kissed him lightly on the mouth.
"I am. So, don't make me wait."
With that, she brushed by him and walked into the bathroom.
xxx
If he lived to be a hundred, he would never quite be able to figure out how she was so good at knowing exactly which buttons to push to get him where she wanted him. Or, in the mood that she wanted him in.
Not that he was complaining.
Showering with another person wasn't something he had done many times in his life. He and Martha did it on occasion early in their marriage when they were still young and flirty. Before his job and parenthood took a toll on their routines and their willingness to take chances.
His reality was that Martha was the only serious relationship in his life up to this point. The only one that he was in long enough to use as a comparison. Yet, he was finding that there wasn't really anything to compare. The relationships, like the women, were far too different for that.
That wasn't all that was different. He found himself, Walt Longmire, man who resists change at all costs, smack in the middle of some metamorphosis that he didn't have any control over. He couldn't speak for Vic, but knew she was going through something similar for entirely different reasons.
Maybe that was why now felt like the right time for all of this.
Walt stepped into the bathroom and found Vic holding her right hand under the spray of water to test the temperature. Already, steam was rising up and beginning to fill the room with its damp brand of heat. She had already removed her uniform shirt and it lay in a heap on the floor. Her belt was undone, but still looped through her jeans.
He stood in the doorway until she noticed him and withdrew her hand from the shower. The light in his bathroom was bright and the effect on her eyes created a spark. Vic reached up and pulled the elastic band that was holding her hair up in a ponytail out. She tossed it over on the sink and ran her hands through her hair as it fell down past her shoulders.
For some reason, until recently, he hadn't realized how long her hair was now.
She pulled her belt free and it landed on her shirt with a low metallic clink as the metal buckle made contact with the tile floor. Unbuttoning her jeans, she pushed them down over her hips and then slid them all the way off, kicking them free.
Vic tilted her head.
"You joining or watching?"
His eyes stayed on her.
"Both."
A smile lit up her face and something inside of his chest felt too big to be contained. She reached down and pulled her tank top up over her head before also removing her bra and underwear. Finally turning away from him, Vic stepped into the shower.
Walt unsnapped his own shirt and discarded his own clothes in quick succession. Pulling the shower curtain, he stepped in behind her. Vic was under the spray with her head tilted back, her hair darkening as the water ran over it.
She stepped out from under the water and her hands extended, landing on his arms. She turned, directing him under the shower.
"You seem to have forgotten how this all works."
Walt gave her a sheepish smile.
"I'm distracted."
"You want me to get out?"
"No, I don't."
Vic grabbed the bottle of shampoo and flipped open the top. She eyed the bottle.
"I need to bring my own stuff over here."
"What's wrong with mine?"
"Nothing…for you. In case you haven't noticed, I've got more hair than you."
"I noticed."
He took the bottle from her and poured some into an open palm. Setting the bottle aside, he gestured for her to turn around. Vic complied and he set about lathering up her hair with the shampoo. The smell of her filled his senses as he continued to run his fingers through her hair, the tips pressing into her scalp. He heard her release a sigh and applied just a little more pressure.
Once he was done, his hands slipped away and Vic turned back up under the water. His eyes collided with his and she smiled at him again. He made no move to wash his own hair or reach for the bar of soap. He just wanted to watch her. Vic rinsed her hair until the water ran clearly from it, all the shampoo gone.
Vic looked up at him.
"I would wash yours, but you're a little tall for that."
He smiled at her and grabbed the shampoo bottle again. He washed his own hair quickly as Vic soaped up her body and they alternated rinsing off under the water. For the first time since he built the cabin, he wished that his shower was bigger. This wasn't what he had in mind when he designed the small bathroom.
Washing complete, Vic extended her hand and ran it up his chest. She used her free hand to push her own hair back out of her face and to clear the water from her eyes. She closed the small distance between them and pressed her mouth up to his wet chest. Walt brought his own hands up to skim up her arms.
Vic continued to press her mouth to his skin. She kissed his chest and slowly made her way across his collarbone and then up his neck to his chin. Walt's hands tightened on her and he dipped his face down to kiss her on the mouth. He could feel his heart thumping hard in his chest and the rest of his body was responding to her as well.
Their kissing was becoming more heated and Walt could feel warmth coiling up in the pit of his stomach as Vic pressed her body up against him as firmly as she could. His arms wound around her and his palms flattened on her back.
She made some sound that seemed far away even though her mouth was right there in his face. Walt pushed her towards the wall and grappled with his free hand to turn off the water. Vic's hand grabbed his and returned it to her skin. She shook her head slightly and pulled her mouth away from him just enough to talk.
"Mmm-mmm. Here."
The words came out breathy and low, but he heard her.
Vic kissed him again and then stepped away from him. She held his eyes for a few seconds before she turned around and placed her palms on the wall, more or less bracing herself. Walt simply ran his eyes over her, taking everything in.
She looked at him over her shoulder and tossed him a smile that took away any thoughts he had left in his head except for one.
Her.
She tilted her head to one side and gestured at him with her head.
"C'mere."
xxx
Vic thought he was asleep. His breathing was slow and easy. They were in his bed with a sheet pulled up over them. It was a pleasant enough night that not much more was needed. Vic was on her side facing away from Walt. He was just behind her, facing the same way with his hand draped over her waist. She was warm from his body heat.
He hadn't moved in quite some time. Neither had she. She didn't have the energy. She should have gone right to sleep. She was certainly tired enough. But for some reason, sleep would not find her. It was incredibly frustrating, but not new. Insomnia was a frequent visitor since her shooting and her miscarriage.
For a host of reasons that she really didn't want to think about.
Vic raised herself up slightly and turned so that she could just see Walt. She was right. He appeared to be sleeping soundly. She took his hand and gently moved it from her hip so that she could slip out of the bed and sit up all the way. Vic rose slowly, the mattress shifting as her weight left it. Walt stirred, but didn't wake up.
Vic walked into the bathroom to find her underwear and tank top still on the floor where she left them after showering. Pulling them on, Vic ran her hands over her face and tucked some hair behind her ear. She turned off the light and came out of the bathroom.
Grabbing one of Walt's snap front shirt from the top of his dresser, she slipped it on and did a few snaps as she quietly left the bedroom. Vic pulled the door mostly closed behind her and walked across the dark living room slowly, giving her eyes time to adjust. Unlocking the front door, she went out onto the porch and took a seat in one of the chairs. Pulling her legs up, she looked out at landscape.
It was dark out with a partial moon that gave off enough light for her to see the area around the cabin, but not the mountains in the distance. She knew they were there all the same, rising up like some fortress.
The temperature had cooled some since they had gone to bed, but it wasn't cold by any stretch. With a little luck, they would have a few weeks of nice weather left before the temperatures started a more permanent drop. One that wouldn't release them until sometime next spring. Winter was the longest month here. There was no mistaking that. You learned to appreciate the warmer weather while it existed.
To live in the moment.
That's what she was trying to do now with Walt. It seemed like her only option. To think about the past was painful and led down rabbit holes that seemed inescapable in ways she couldn't even describe. The future was overwhelming. Whenever her mind drifted there, it was inundated with questions for which she had no answers.
Once, that hadn't bothered her. Now, the uncertainty felt like an invisible enemy that could strike at any time. It made her feet restless and on edge. It was what kept her up at night when her brain started down this track.
It was easy enough to fend off during the day when she was busy with work, or life in general. It was at night, when the world around her was quiet, that these thoughts bombarded her. It was the same thing that pushed her from the bed the first morning that she woke up with Walt. The fear. The doubt. The not knowing.
The pain.
Vic didn't think she could take any more pain, neither physical nor mental. She had always considered herself a strong person. Now, she doubted that self-assessment and wondered if she really did possess the strength required to pull herself out of this hole she seemed to constantly find herself in.
It was happening again.
Vic rubbed her hands over her face. She did not want to sit through this again. But, she really didn't have any options. She could wake Walt up and talk to him, but there was no need for him to lose sleep over problems that were exclusively her own. Not to mention, it would only cause him to worry about her. His brand of worry led to pestering. Hovering.
She would be showing by now. Maybe not enough for the general public to notice. Certainly enough that she would be able to see. She would be able to run her hands over the growing swell of her stomach. Her knowledge of pregnancy wasn't all that strong. But, the doctor had given her some pamphlets and some websites to look at that showed the development of her unborn child.
It was gone now.
Tossed in the trash.
There was no need for them. No need for her to know those things.
She hadn't even really wanted kids before all this. Maybe she still didn't. Maybe it simply wasn't meant to be. It was entirely possible this was who she was and all that she would ever have.
"You can get pregnant again."
That was her mother's attempt at solace. She knew her father would share that news with her mother. It was unfair and unrealistic to expect him not to. She wondered what her mother would think of that news. She was, after all, not exactly her mother's pride and joy. Their relationship was complicated. Sometimes, she couldn't even really understand it.
She knew her mother meant well when she said it. Just like people at funerals meant well when they said the deceased was in a better place when all the family wanted was for their loved one to with them. Not in some mystical afterlife.
Her mother seemed to be missing the point.
Maybe that was the best she could do.
She hadn't even called immediately. A week or so elapsed before the familiar number popped up on her phone. Vic knew what it meant. She almost didn't answer it. Her mother was a persistent woman, however. It was better just to go ahead and be done with it. Otherwise it would be one more state of limbo for her to exist in and she wasn't sure she could handle any more of that.
She supposed one of the benefits of living so far away was that it was so much easier to filter the information her family got. That was why Victor Moretti got on a plane with rich fishermen and flew to Wyoming. To see firsthand what was going on with his daughter. He hadn't like what he found here. Not that pleasing her parents was ever something she strived for.
Still, it would be nice for them to compliment her once in a while.
Her father would not be happy when he found about her relationship with Walt. Even with Walt retired, there would be no convincing him that this was what she needed, what she wanted. He would only see that it was Walt Longmire, a man he despised and blamed for the current state of her life.
That was squarely on her.
She knew her father was disappointed in her, even though he wouldn't say it directly. Instead, he made generals statements.
"This isn't where you belong."
Where did she belong?
For the first thirty or so years of her life, she was certain that was Philadelphia. After all, she was born and raised there. She never lived anywhere but the city. Even after the move to Durant, she still felt like she belonged back east. What was there for her? A job she was pushed out of because she tried to do the right thing? Friends who disappeared when she needed them the most?
Her family.
Her family was there. Now, after all this time, she felt ill at ease when she was with them. Her infrequent visits home became more spaced. It wasn't their fault. They were the same people they always were. It was her who changed. It was Vic who started to adapt to life in the high plains despite her professed hatred for this place.
She didn't really hate it.
Not anymore.
On some level, it grew on her.
Now, there was Philadelphia Vic, who didn't really exist anymore and there was Wyoming Vic who felt disconnected from herself at this point in time. She didn't know how to reconcile those two versions of herself into one that made sense.
She wanted to make sense. She wanted to feel as though she belonged somewhere. This rootless feeling that possessed her now left her feeling exhausted and confused. For a brief span of time, she had been someone's mother. Or, as much of a mother as you can be to a child that hasn't been born.
The news at first left her feeling incredibly apprehensive. She couldn't even manage her own life. How could she possibly expect to take care of someone else. But, the more she thought about it, the more the idea grew on her. She could touch her stomach and know the baby was there. There was finally someone that was hers. Someone who would give her an identity that she could be proud of.
Now, that was gone.
Vic hadn't even realized she was crying until a tear dripped off her chin. Vic raised both hands and wiped at her cheeks, trying to erase the moisture.
"Vic?"
She nearly jumped out of the chair when she heard his voice off to her side. She was so lost in her own thoughts, she didn't even hear him open the door. Vic cleared her throat and stood up and faced him.
Walt had pulled on his jeans, but they were unfastened. He stood there, shirtless, with a look of concern on his face.
"What're you doing out…"
He paused and leaned in, his eyes narrowing a bit.
"Are you crying? What's wrong?"
Vic wiped her eyes again and shook her head.
"Nothing. Go back to bed."
He clearly didn't intend to follow her instructions.
"It's not nothing if you're crying."
Vic brushed by him and walked inside. Walt followed closely on her heels.
"Vic."
He pushed the door closed and rubbed his face tiredly. Vic dipped her face down.
"I don't want to talk about it."
He sighed heavily, not bothering to keep his unhappiness with that statement a secret.
"You can't keep shutting me out."
She turned to him.
"You do it all the time."
"And you crawl my ass for it."
The strength in his words surprised her.
"Let's just…go to bed."
Walt shook his head.
"No. Not until you talk to me."
She stared at him, debating her next move.
"It's the middle of the night."
"I know what time it is."
"I'm not doing this with you tonight."
"Vic…"
"We'll talk about it tomorrow."
"No, we won't. You'll find some reason not to."
"Walt…"
He shook his head. She waffled.
"Maybe I should just go then."
She didn't really mean it when she said it.
"Is that what you want?"
"What I want is some sleep."
He sighed again, this time more resigned than before.
"Fine."
He didn't sound like it was fine.
"Now you're mad."
"I'm not mad."
"You are. Maybe…I should…go home."
He repeated his earlier question.
"Is that what you want?"
She looked up at him and there was no way she could be mad at him for his insistence. The worry on his face was clear as a cloudless day.
"No."
The word came from her low, but heavy.
"Okay then."
He reached out and touched her cheek so lightly it almost felt like a figment of her imagination.
"What do you want?"
It dawned on her how few people in her life ever asked her that. Genuinely.
"Now? To sleep. I'm so tired."
He nodded and let his hand fall away from her, the confrontation over.
"Okay."
"Is it? Okay?"
"Yeah. Let's…go back to bed."
She watched him for another second or two before she turned and walked into the bedroom.
xxx
She finally fell asleep at some point. He wasn't sure what time. He was in and out himself, his worry for her never all that far from his conscious mind. When he woke up for the last time, she was still sleeping. Walt turned onto his side so that he could look at her without straining.
She was on her stomach with her face half in the pillow and turned away from him. Both of her hands were under the pillow, bunching it up. Her hair was spread all across her back and the pillow, with some of it falling over her face.
He woke up the night before to find her gone from the bed. She wasn't in the bathroom. He thought she might be in the living room or maybe she woke up thirsty and was in the kitchen. Walt looked and didn't find her. It was then that he noticed the front door was slightly ajar. That was how he found her sitting in one of his porch chairs so deep in thought she didn't even look up when the screen door squeaked, announcing his appearance.
The state of her mind scared him. He wasn't going to lie about that. Not after witnessing the turmoil she was in firsthand. She seemed better lately. Or, he thought she did. Now, it felt like someone hit a rewind button and shew was back where she started.
She seemed perfectly fine all day. At work and then at the cabin. He hadn't noticed any behavior that was out of the ordinary. What was ordinary for Vic lately, though? She seemed to be on a seesaw of emotions. One minute, she was focused and seemed fine. The next, she appeared to be in a spiral. He knew she questioned her own ability to pull herself out of it.
She didn't see what he saw.
She didn't see the strength in herself.
Walt knew she was more than likely suffering from some form of post traumatic stress. It was to be expected when you considered all she had been through. Her first encounter with Chance Gilbert. Being held against her will and threatened. Seeing her then husband threatened. Having a helmet placed on her head only to have it beaten with a baseball bad. The shock of seeing Ed Gorski appear out of nowhere.
The event was easily connected directly to the final dissolution of her marriage.
He hadn't been there for her. Not like he wanted to be. He stepped back. She was married. The marriage was in trouble, but she was still living with her husband. It was a challenge to remind himself that it wasn't his business. There was no place for him.
The small bit of comfort her offered her in the hospital was simultaneously confusing and life giving. He shouldn't have felt the way he did when he pulled her into a hug. He was her boss. He was her friend. She was married.
Her second go round with the man nearly killed her. It did kill her unborn child. Walt knew that she grappled with the decision she made. He knew she carried more than her share of guilt. He had been there. He understood guilt as well as anyone. He harbored his own guilt in regards to how that ended. He should have known that she would not accept being sent away. He should have kept her with him. He could have kept an eye on her that way. He would have been with her. She might not have gotten shot.
By that point in time, whatever had existed between them before had fractured. He knew it was primarily his own doing. He pushed her away. He pushed her away so hard that it nearly worked. Had she felt like she could come to him, she might've made different choices.
He didn't deserve her.
Walt didn't need to be told that. He knew it. That was why he was determined this time not to fail her. He wouldn't step back and let her fall. He would hold her up until she was strong enough to do it on her own. Instead of pushing, this time he pulled.
She rolled over and into him, her arm stretching out across his side.
Her eyes opened and moved around before settling on him. She withdrew the arm that was on him and rubbed her face, yawning and settling back into the pillow. She closed her eyes briefly before opening them again, this time with more clarity.
"What time is it?"
Her voice sounded heavy.
"Early."
She made a face.
"I swear I would hold up a fucking bank if it would get me some sleep."
Walt used his finger to push some hair back from her face.
"Don't do that."
He gave her a small smile when he said it. She didn't return the smile. Not that he really expected her to. She wasn't a morning person. He knew that before they ever slept together. Vic shifted so that she was lying flat on her back, still looking up at him.
"How're you feeling?"
She frowned.
"Hungover."
"Maybe you should go back to sleep."
Vic shook her head.
"Can't. We have a murder to solve."
She wasn't wrong.
"Come in a little late."
Another shake of her head.
"Would you tell me to do that if we weren't sleeping together?"
"If we weren't sleeping together, I wouldn't know."
"Exactly. Walt, you can't treat me different. You know that."
"Yep."
She sat up, causing him to lean back out of her way.
"What I need is coffee."
Walt sat up with a breath and tossed the sheet off.
"I can take care of that."
He got up and dressed quickly, leaving her still sitting on the bed. Walt started the coffee. He could hear when Vic got up and started to dress. By the time she wandered in, he was pouring the coffee into two mugs. Vic grabbed the cream and the sugar and took hers over to the table. Sitting down, she stirred in her preferred amount.
"Hungry?"
Vic lifted her coffee.
"Not really."
He shifted his weight.
"You need to have something on your stomach."
She sipped her coffee.
"I do. Coffee."
He studied her.
"You feeling bad again?"
"No. Just…no appetite."
He started to protest, but thought better of it. She didn't seem to be in the mood for that brand of pushing and he knew it could backfire spectacularly.
"Alright."
She drank some more of her coffee.
"You wanna talk about last night?"
He ventured the question carefully and with low expectations. Her expression was answer enough.
"Right now? No, I don't."
He started to respond when she cut him off.
"I'm not…putting you off. But…we have to be at work soon. There's no reason to start something we won't have time to finish."
"Tonight then."
She gave him a look over the rim of her cup.
"Sure. Tonight."
It was a non-committal answer. He figured it was the best he was going to get from her in that moment. She stood up from the table, coffee cup in hand.
"I need to finish getting ready."
"Hey, Vic."
He wasn't sure what possessed him. Not that it hadn't been on his mind. But, he reacted without thinking in the moment.
She turned.
"Hmm?"
"You wanna have dinner?"
He stuttered the words out. Vic looked at him like he was an alien from another planet.
"We…have dinner most nights."
She was clearly confused.
Walt took a step towards her.
"No…I mean…out."
"You're asking me out? Kind of late for that."
She smiled slightly when she said it, but it didn't seem as genuine as it normally would have. She was like this now, though.
"You know what I mean."
Vic turned all the way around.
"So…where do you want to go?"
"Sheridan isn't far."
"When?"
"Um…tonight…or tomorrow."
Vic's head tilted to the side.
"You're not very good at dates, are you?"
"You surprised?"
"Not at all. Let's shoot for tomorrow. Today might be another one of those days. Um…you got a place in mind?"
His silence seemed to answer the question.
"Okay. So…you want me to Google restaurants in Sheridan?"
"Or…ask around. That's…what I would do."
She took a sip of her coffee.
"Well…if we're sneaking around…that might tip someone off."
He honestly couldn't tell if she was being serious or if she was kidding. Normally, he could judge that in her. She started back for the bedroom.
"I'll take care of it."
Vic tossed the words over her shoulder at him and disappeared through the doorway. Walt sighed and leaned on the counter. That wasn't how he wanted any of that to play out and it left him feeling frustrated with himself.
It was only a few minutes before she reemerged. Vic set her now empty cup into the sink and slipped her phone into her back pocket. She was fully dressed now with her boots on and her hair pulled up. Her badge, cuffs, and holster were on her belt just like every other day. She ran her eyes over him.
"You're gonna be late."
He shrugged.
"I'm the boss."
"Right. Must be nice."
Vic pushed up a bit and kissed him lightly on the mouth. She tasted and smelled like minty toothpaste and the mouthwash in his bathroom. He thought about the comment she made last night about bringing her own stuff. Up to this point, she just used his. But, she was here a little more with each day that passed. It made sense.
He returned the kiss before she stepped away and adjusted the cuffs on her belt. She never quite seemed satisfied with the position of the gear she wore clipped to her belt, always moving it this way or that. Vic always somehow seemed to be in motion.
"See you."
Walt cleared his throat.
"I'm right behind you."
Of course, he wasn't. That didn't seem to matter as she left the cabin.