Ch. 22: Music

Post series

Walt crossed his yard in a pace that wasn't hurried. There was no need for it. His life was at his pace. Well, his and Vic's. Out beyond the cabin, the horse whinnied and swished its tail at a pest Walt couldn't see from this distance. The drying grass crackled under the tread of his boots as he made his way towards the cabin steps. He paused once more to cast a look at the horse. Now, the animal was trotting around. A slight smile pulled at Walt's face.

Turning away, he paused at the top of the steps and stomped each foot to loosen any mud that might be clinging to his boots. He pulled open the screen door and the front door. The air outside was sharp with the chill of late fall. Impending winter.

But inside, it was warm courtesy of the fire snapping away in the fireplace. He inhaled the familiar aroma of burning logs as she removed his hat and hung it up. Next, he shrugged out of his coat and hung it alongside his hat.

Edging in on the smell of burning wood, he could still smell the coffee he brewed a little while earlier. Like he did most mornings, he took his coffee to the porch to watch the sun begin its journey across the sky. Vic teased him about getting up so early when he didn't have to. But, he was just that way. And, he liked the time to simply ponder his day. To make a mental map of all the things he needed to do.

One's mistake would be in assuming that retirement left him idle. That was far from true. On a property like this one, there was always something to be done. You just needed to find it. There was wood to be cut up for the long winter that was approaching their doorsteps. Something always needed to be cleaned or patched up. The horse needed to be brushed out and ridden. Fed and watered. When he did choose to forego chores, he read and worked his in that way.

Sometimes, Vic would read while he did. The quiet would stretch out around them. Other times, she might work on a crossword puzzle, tapping her pencil on her leg and biting her lip while she thought. He would admit that the move would draw his attention away from his book and settle on her. As long as she was concentrating, she didn't notice. He liked to watch her. He could make a habit of it.

Sometimes, he did.

Especially when she was thinking. She would get this intense look on her face and her forehead would crease with thought as she considered whatever it was she was looking at. Her eyes would develop that laser focus that tended to make suspects squirm.

And, him on occasion.

But, it was morning and the day hadn't quite revealed itself yet. When he walked outside earlier with his coffee, Vic was still in bed with the blankets pulled up obscuring most of her face. She stirred with his movement, but didn't wake up. It was just as well. She was off today.

He looked forward to those days. The ones where she didn't have any obligations or worries about the office or their latest case. Those days, she was usually content to spend with him. What they chose to do depended on the weather. On nice days, he would drag her outside to enjoy it. On colder ones, they were usually content to laze in front of the fire and simply exist.

Walt made his way to the kitchen. But, once he reached the entryway, he stopped. Vic was up now. No surprise there. After his coffee, he went out to make sure the horse had ample food and water. That took time. The sun was higher in the sky now as they slid into late morning.

Vic stood in the kitchen, clearly just out of bed. She wore one of his button-down denim shirts, buttoned up and falling to her thigh. From the hem of the shirt, she was bare legged. That wouldn't last much longer. Soon, the colder temperatures would invade them and her nighttime wardrobe would shift to accommodate it. At that point she would change over to yoga pants or the soft cotton ones she liked.

Walt's eyes ran down her legs. They were pale, but toned and muscled from running and from the physical exertion that came with her job. She was bare footed, her soles planted on the wooden planks of the floor. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to the middle of her forearms.

Her phone lay on the counter beside her and he could see the white wires of her ear buds. The buds were obviously in her ears, stretching up from the counter likes twin vines. Walt didn't know what she was listening to. But, he could guess. She had a strong preference for 80s rock. Music that was harder than he preferred, but she liked it.

Whatever it was, she was clearly into it and her body was moving to the rhythm of whatever song was pumping into her ears. She wasn't quite dancing. It was more of a bounce to the tempo of her music, with her feet and hips occasionally shifting from side to side.

From where she stood, her back was to him and she was completely unaware of his presence, lost in whatever world she created for herself. In front of her was a mug of coffee that she was adding cream and sugar too and a bowl of cereal with a spoon protruding from it.

Walt stood and watched. The scene affected him in a handful of ways. His first thought was to smile at the simple fun of it all. She worked hard. She enjoyed her time off. She was clearly feeling light this morning, with no shadows of working skulking about in the shadows. There was no need to rush or be anywhere at a certain time.

It also warmed him from the inside, filling his chest with a feeling that was hard to verbalize. He never would have imagined living this life with her just a little while ago. There was so much that seemed to hold them apart for so long. Yet, here they were. Living. Sharing a life that he swore he would never take for granted. He mostly succeeded, reminding himself frequently that everyone didn't get second chances. He loved her and she loved him. There were arguments, of course. Every so often, a fight. But, most of their days were good and filled with Vic smiling at him and rolling her eyes at him in equal portions. It was life. A relationship.

Aside from all of that, he would be lying to say that seeing her wearing only his shirt and moving the way she was, oblivious to him, didn't strike the man in him hard. She was a beautiful woman. She drew attention when they were out in public with her looks and her body. Vic would disregard it, but Walt saw it. He saw the way men looked at her, probably wondering what she saw in him.

He wondered that, too.

Even early in their working relationship, he found her attractive. He wrote it off as purely physical and him being human. But, it existed all the same.

There were a lot of sides to Vic. The work part of her that wore her boots and duty shirt with her hair pulled up or back, her sunglasses and a no nonsense look on her face. Her eyes sharp and smart. There was the Vic who enjoyed getting dressed up and going out. They didn't do that very often, but she did like putting on a dress, makeup, heels and letting loose. He didn't mind it either when she looked like she did. Or, when she smiled at him just right. There was casual, at home Vic who wore shorts or lounging pants, depending on the weather and stretched out on the couch like a territorial cat. That was her downtime self. She would read or mess with her phone.

That was the version that was a bridge between working Vic and the one that was in front of him right now. This one was his favorite for a lot of reasons, most of which were contradictory. She was all soft and smiles with her hair down and only about half dressed. He was still a man, after all. She was sharp and sexy when she had her sights set on getting him into bed early with a clear agenda.

Vic liked sex. She didn't hide that. She never had. She used it for a lot of reasons. To work through her frustrations. To let loose after a bad day. Just sheer let's get it on mode. Or, when she was in need of something. When she looked to him to make her feel loved or needed. Everyone needed to feel that once in a while. He was happy to accommodate her.

It puzzled him how she could seem so strong and yet so vulnerable at those times. Being her with was different than with other women in his life. She was more adventurous and not at all shy about telling him what she wanted. She both liked to be in control and liked for him to take control. It was a never ending game of give and take.

With all that running through his mind, he stood there just watching her bounce and dance in the kitchen, still unaware that he was there. Walt felt the smile that quirked up one side of his mouth. He wasn't sure how much time passed.

A few minutes, maybe.

He slowly started to cross the kitchen floor, his eyes never leaving her. When he was just behind her, she seemed to sense him and she turned, jumping a little.

"Shit!"

Vic pushed out the expletive as her hands moved to hear ears and pulled the earbuds free. She tossed them on the counter.

"You scared me."

Walt stepped in closer, his eyes dropping to hers.

"Didn't want to interrupt. You looked like you were having a good time there."

She rolled her eyes at him, but also smiled.

"Yeah. Right."

She leaned on the counter.

"How long you been standing there?"

Walt shrugged and placed his hands on her hips, his fingers curling into the soft material of her shirt.

His shirt.

Whatever.

"Don't know."

"Mmm…you must have liked the show."

The smile of her face eased some and her eyes drifted down to his mouth and back up to his eyes. Her hands landed on his forearms. Slowly, she slid them up to his shoulders where her arms moved around behind his neck and stayed there.

"I did."

Walt stepped in, crowding her. She didn't mind. At all. Vic pressed into him.

"I can see that. Well…sort of."

Walt swallowed. He would never know how she was so good at pushing all of his buttons at once. He started to reply, but Vic cut him off short by pushing up on her toes and pressing her mouth to his. The kiss started out slow and wet, but escalated, heat closing in on them. Vic's hands pulled him down, strengthening the contact between them. Walt's fingers flexed harder into her hips.

In all honesty, he was considering the kitchen table when she pushed back on his chest. Vic pulled her mouth from him, but maintained the rest of the contact as she guided him backwards towards the living room and then, the bedroom.

She allowed him to turn them and he pushed her onto the bed, coming down on top of her and finding her mouth again. Vic's hands pulled at the front of his shirt with purpose, unsnapping in with admirable precision. Her hands pushed at the shirt and she shoved it off of his shoulders. Walt pressed her into the mattress, moving his mouth to her neck. Her fingers twined into his hair, her fingers pressing into his scalp.

"Jesus, Walt!"

It came out breathy, which only served to further push him. His hands tugged at his own belt and the front of his pants, loosening them. Then they moved to her legs, which were moving up and around him, cradling. Walt's hands landed on her thighs. Her skin was warm. Hot really. They started to move up underneath the hem, taking his mind with them.

xxx

"My coffee is probably cold."

It was the first sentence she had spoken in a while. Her breathing was back to normal. His own heart was still beating hard, but it was slowly getting back to where it should be. She was laying partially on her with her head resting on his shoulder. One leg was hiked over him. Her hair spread out everywhere and his finger was making lazy trails through it. It was soft under his touch and it smelled good.

He dipped his chin into the top of her head and inhaled. Her smell was mixed with his own. He liked it. Loved it really. He could quite say why. It was probably something primal, but he didn't care. She made him feel primal.

"I'll make you a fresh pot."

"Hmm."

That was it. She made no move to get up or allow him to get up. She stayed exactly like she was, one hand moving slowly over the skin of his stomach and chest. The soft touch sent butterflies skittering through his stomach.

He was okay with her staying exactly like she was. She was warm and comfortable. All of his energy was gone. It was her day off and he had every day off. They had no where to be and nothing to do except for what they wanted.

This was what he wanted.