Loathing

Summary: The alley scene. Walt's thoughts.

He felt sick to his stomach. His mouth felt dry and impossibly pasty. He could even work up enough spit to swallow and try to force the taste of bile out of his mouth. He didn't like confrontations like this one. Not like the one he and Vic just shared.

It was just about all he and Vic shared anymore.

It was such a stark turnaround from months ago when they were so close. When they seemed so close to something. But, that was the problem. Wasn't it. That very thing.

They were close.

Too close.

Walt wasn't even sure how it happened. He worked hard at keeping himself closed off. Outside of Henry and Cady, there wasn't anyone he allowed inside anymore. Not lately. Not since Martha.

Somehow it happened anyway.

It didn't escape him when he hired her than she was an attractive woman. Men noticed her. He noticed her. It was impossible not to. She was such a force of nature. Blunt and rough around the edges. Not his type at all. Not that he had a type. But, Martha was a soft spoken woman. She was no pushover, but she was more subtle in her brand of strength.

Vic wore everything for the world to see.

In an existence where everyone seemed to have some underlying motive, it was refreshing in a way he never expected. He liked her almost immediately in spite of all the attitude that she threw his way. She was smart and competent. She never shied away from a challenge and didn't need him to babysit her. She was more than capable of doing her job.

But, there was something else about her that drew him in. She was quick with a sharp smile and possessed a fast wit. The more time he spent with her, though, the more he noticed she was deeper than anyone around her seemed to realize. There was a softness to her he didn't see very often. Only when they were alone. Only in certain circumstances.

It wasn't an overnight thing. Their friendship was a gradual thing. She spent more time with him. Riding with him, sitting his office eating lunch or dinner with him when they were stuck at work. She would prop her feet up with an obliviousness that he was almost envious of.

She never offered him any apologies. She simply was who she was.

Lately, when it felt like no one else was on his side, he was finding that he could always count on Vic. Her loyalty to him seemed complete and without disturbance. He hadn't ever experienced it before. They were so different, yet the bond between them seemed to be an ever expanding thing that took on a life of its own.

It seemed like one day, he turned around and found the physical attraction he always pretended like he didn't harbor for her was something different. Something deeper.

It scared the hell out of him.

That was what so many people didn't really know about Sheriff Walt Longmire.

He was a damn coward.

Were he not, he would have told her. He would have found a way to let her know. Once her divorce was final, he would have done something. Instead, in spite of everything, he tried to maintain the status quo and it was blowing up in his face.

Unlike him, Vic wasn't one to hide her emotions.

He knew that she had feelings for him. He didn't know how deep they were, or serious. But, he knew they were there. True to form, he started to overanalyze everything that was going on.

She worked for him.

She was younger than him.

She was fresh off a failed marriage.

People would talk.

He fed himself a steady stream of excuses why he could never act on what he felt.

Vic refused to accept that.

Vic pushed.

For some stupid reason, he pushed back.

Now, here they were on the far side of a conversation he almost didn't participate in. It was Vic who questioned him. Vic who threw the past, and his own actions, up in his face. It was Vic who tried to get him to say something, anything.

She was right.

It was hard for him to admit.

He didn't encourage her to stay married. Some part of him felt guiltily relieved when he was handed her divorce papers. Instead, he told her what he wanted to. Or, part of it.

He did want her to stay.

For purely selfish reasons.

But, he wasn't ready to take that step and he wasn't sure he would be.

He didn't want to know that there was anything going on between her and Eamonn. He didn't want there to be. It was an incredibly selfish thought, but there it was. She was single now. All he had offered her was mixed signals that left her confused. Then, he snapped at her when she fought for clarity.

He wanted to have more feelings for Donna than he did. They hadn't exactly gotten off on the right foot and he felt unable to find his equilibrium. He wasn't good with women. It was a miracle he ever married Martha. He struggled to find a feeling of ease with Donna. It was impossibly elusive and he didn't know why.

He never felt that way with Vic.

Until recently.

Until he started to push her away and shut her out.

She tried. As usual, she pushed and she did try to talk to him. He was unwilling to do so. His time away made it feel like there was a crevasse between them that was bottomless and not able to be bridged.

He felt isolated ever though she was sitting in the Bronco beside him.

The relaxed Vic who rested her arm on the window and smiled at him was gone. He missed her. The Vic that existed with him now was quiet and the tight set of her jaw broadcasted the myriad of emotions she felt. Anger. Disappointment.

Maybe even hurt.

For a split second back there, he thought she might lose her grip.

His radio crackled to life and the moment passed.

She walked away from him.

What else was there to do.

He didn't give her any reason to stay.

"Whether you like it or not, your life, it impacts mine."

Her words hung in his mind. It was her last ditch attempt to get him to see. All he did was stare.

He hated himself.

Now, it felt as though a final wall had been erected between them. A wall of his own creation that imprisoned him with no clear way out. She was quiet and closed off.

All that was left to do…was drive.