Discovery
Set post Season 6
It wasn't particularly late.
Normally they spent their evenings on the couch or the porch. He would read most of the time. Sometimes, she read. Sometimes, she would scroll her phone or do something on her laptop. There was something inherently restless about her. Even at home, she would jump from task to task. Other times, they would just talk. About everything. About nothing.
But tonight had been different.
Vic had come in from work with irritation clearly etched across her face. He was familiar with those days. When Martha had been alive, she had been a receptive and effective sounding board for most of his frustrations. Her calm demeanor had been a complement to his need to either vent or withdraw into himself.
After he had become a widower, he would simply drink until he couldn't think anymore. He would eventually fall asleep on the couch and woke up grumpy and hungover. It wasn't the healthiest way to deal with stress. But, it had worked for him. Beggars can't be choosers.
When Vic had entered the picture, he had found somewhat of a kindred spirit. Then, it had been platonic. She understood the rigors of the job in a way most people couldn't because she was haunted in the same way that he was by bad cases and no-win situations. He had been too mired in his own grief and vendetta and she had been married. She spoke of her husband fleetingly back then, normally only mentioning that they were fighting or that he was out of town. The back and forth had been harmless with no pretense of romance. She would sit in his office late into the evening, slouched in a chair with her feet propped up. And they would talk. Mostly, they talked about work. But, once in a while, their conversation would veer into more personal topics. He came to realize, during this time, that this was what he had been missing since the death of his wife.
A real connection.
And his Philadelphia imported deputy had provided just that. She had a quick wit and a sharp smile. She was foul mouthed and full of eye rolls. She didn't take anything from anyone, including him.
Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Their lives were shared now. She was long free of a marriage that had not been happy for most of its existence. He had put away the ghosts of the past and found peace.
He was reading when she came in, letting the screen door slam behind her. He looked up and his eyes followed her until she was in the bedroom. He could hear the rustle of her changing clothes and removing whatever remained of her day. He knew right away that she was not in a good mood. She had come back wearing pajama pants and a tank top in her bare feet. She flopped unceremoniously next to him on the couch.
He kept his eyes on his book.
"Bad day?"
He felt the warm skin of her bare arm brush his as she had leaned back.
"Hellish as they come."
Her chin came to rest on his upper arm.
"Whatcha reading?"
He smiled to himself. She had no interest in his book. He closed it and tossed it onto the coffee table.
"Hungry?"
She shrugged.
"Not really. I had a late lunch."
"Why was your day so bad?"
Another shrug.
"I don't want to talk about it."
She had that look in her eye now. She sidled up next to him like a cat that wanted petting. Walt slid his arm around her. Her hand landed on his thigh, her thumb lightly moving over the fabric of his jeans. She had his undivided attention now. And she knew it.
It had started simply enough with him bringing his hand to her face and pressing a kiss there. The escalation had been quick. Like a short fuse to a large stack of dynamite. Soon enough, she was straddling him and he was only half dressed. At some point, he would untangle from her enough to carry her to the bed.
It was her way of dealing with stress. Walt had no problem with it.
That was what had gotten them in bed so early. It seemed to Walt like they had been together forever. They had not. And, for the most part, they still had not broadcasted their new relationship. It was mostly an adjustment period. Walt had always been a private person and Vic had agreed it would be easier to find their way without outside prying or questions.
His heart was just beginning to slow down. He was certain one day she was going to kill him. She had been quietly dozing next to him, shifting every now and then to get more comfortable. He felt her move against him and turned his head. Her eyes were open now and the frustration was gone.
She smiled.
He smiled.
Vic rolled away from him and he heard her feet thump onto the floor. She pulled on her underwear and tank top and then slid on his shirt and buttoned it. He always had to laugh at how large his shirts were on her.
She disappeared into the bathroom.
He could feel himself starting to drift when he heard a knock on the door.
Walt got up grumbling and pulled his jeans on. He was trying to smooth his hair down when he pulled the door open.
Henry scanned him and lifted an eyebrow.
"Were you sleeping?"
Walt shook his head.
"No."
Henry turned and looked behind him. Vic's truck was parked next to the Bronco.
"Are you working?"
He could hear the humor in his friend's voice. Henry was nothing if not perceptive.
Henry walked in slowly, his dark eyes looking around.
"Did you need something?"
Henry returned his eyes to Walt.
"I was going to speak with you…"
"Hey, Wa…"
Her voice faded. Henry's eyes left him and moved to his bedroom door. Walt turned. He had never been so happy that his shirts hung close to her knees. She stopped and folded her arms across her chest.
"Henry."
Henry smiled at her.
"Vic."
She backed up into the bedroom and reappeared minutes later wearing her pajama pants along with his shirt.
"I had no idea that the two of you were…together."
Walt could feel the red creeping up his neck. He fumbled with changing the subject.
"You wanted to talk to me?"
Henry shook his head.
"It was in regards to the casino. It can wait. We will talk later."
Walt knew what that meant. Henry nodded to Vic.
"It was nice to see you, Vic."
She smiled.
"Night, Henry."
Walt closed the door and turned around.
"That was…"
His stuttered out his words.
"Awkward?"
"Yeah."
She waved him off.
"He's a big boy, Walt. Besides, people are going to find out at some point. Henry won't say anything anyway."
She slid her hand into his.
"I'm hungry."
He smiled at her.
"Thought you had a late lunch."
She tugged at his hand.
"I did but I worked up an appetite."
He locked the door and let her pull him into the kitchen.