Ch. 11: Dim
"How was your meeting?"
Vic gave Colter a sidelong look as she crossed the floor of the office and stood over her desk.
"Almost as fun as yesterday."
He flinched, letting her know the barb was effective. Vic picked up the post-its that Ruby stuck on her desk and looked through them. She laid them back down, deciding nothing was of immediate interest.
"I've apologized for that…"
Vic broke in, lacking the patience for anymore apologies or excuses.
"Any word on Mason?"
Colter looked glum, which answered her question.
"No. We have a BOLO out for him So far, no luck."
Vic turned her attention back to a stack of files on her desk.
"Do you have any idea where he might go?"
Colter watched her shuffle through the papers.
"What do you mean?"
Vic looked up.
"He's your friend? Any suggestions?"
He answered with a shake of his head.
"He's not the man I knew."
Vic tossed down the files and turned to him.
"Maybe he was and you just didn't see it."
She thought that he would argue. Object. But, he didn't.
"Maybe. Sometimes, people aren't what we think they are."
Vic held his eyes.
"That's true."
The office door opened, diverting her attention. Vic's eyes were drawn to a young man who paused in the doorway and scanned the room. His eyes fell on Vic and he headed her way with the confident strides of youth.
He was an average looking young man with light brown hair and eyes to match. Average height and weight. He carried himself with the air of someone who didn't lack self-confidence.
"Deputy Moretti?"
Vic nodded as he extended his hand.
"Jackson Tate, Cumberland County. Sheriff Cooper sent me."
Vic shook his hand and offered him a smile.
"Thanks for coming."
He looked around.
"Small office you got here."
Vic could still remember the first time she saw it and thought the same thing. Maybe, even more to the extreme coming from such a large city as Philadelphia.
"Yeah, it is. Did the Sheriff tell you about the job?"
"He told me that you needed another body until your Sheriff came back from an injury. Is that right?"
"Pretty much. We're shorthanded and we're working on a pretty big investigation. So…I need you to handle the usual stuff."
He seemed to understand what she meant.
"Patrols? Calls?"
Vic smiled.
"Yes. If you need anything, Ruby…"
She nodded at Ruby's desk.
"…can help you. And…"
She looked towards Zach.
"Zach?"
He stood up and ambled over.
"This is Zach Heflin."
Zach shook the younger man's hand, his eyes shifting back to Vic.
"Can you show him around?"
Zach gave her a nod.
"Sure."
He waved a hand at Tate and they walked off. Vic turned her attention back to Colter.
"I trust you'll let me know if you find out something?"
"Of course."
Vic rubbed her eyes as he walked into Cady's office, retreating to his laptop. The door opened again and Walt came in, removing his hat as he came.
"Hey."
Vic smiled.
"It's Grand Central Station around here."
He gave her a confused look.
"What?"
Vic shook her head in amusement.
"Nothing. What's up?"
He laid his hat aside and stepped in close to her.
"I need to talk to you."
Vic nodded and stood, waiting.
"Okay."
Walt gave his head a slight shake.
"Somewhere private."
Vic's eyes drifted to Cady's office. Colter was in there. That wouldn't work. Zach and Tate were still walking around the office, talking and comparing notes. Vic took his wrist and pulled. He followed her to the door marked Reading Room.
Vic closed the door behind them and faced him in the small room, her arms folded over her chest.
"Privacy is hard to come by today. So…what's going on?"
"You mentioned looking into Mason's background? Have you done that?"
Vic shook her head.
"No, I haven't been here very long."
He nodded, remembering her meeting with the mayor.
"I called Agent Vance…"
Vic tilted her head.
"Vance…"
Walt nodded.
"He helped me out when we were looking for Shane Muldoon and Malachi."
"Yeah, I remember. But…what does he have to do with anything?"
Walt shifted his weight.
"I called and asked him to look into Mason. And Colter."
Vic's eyes narrowed a bit.
"You called the FBI?"
Walt shook his head.
"I called one person at the FBI and asked him to keep it quiet."
"Walt…"
He cut in, not giving her a chance to finish her thought.
"You are not gonna have access to the background of a US Marshal. No one, at a federal level, is all that willing to help out a small Sheriff's department in rural Wyoming. Especially if you're looking into one of their own."
Vic sighed, quietly conceding his point.
"You should've told me."
"I am telling you."
"Before."
"You might've told me not to do it."
Vic huffed.
"Like you ever listen."
He shrugged.
"Well, this way you can't be mad that I didn't listen."
"No, you just went behind my back."
Walt shifted from one foot to the other again.
"I didn't…go behind your back. I have a connection and I used it."
Vic bit her lip and studied him.
"So…you're using official channels to go through unofficial channels. That's…so unlike you."
"Are you mad?"
Vic rolled her eyes and smiled.
"Do I seem mad?"
"Not really."
"Have you ever known me to be mad and you not know?"
"No."
"Then…I think you're safe."
Vic dropped her arms to her sides.
"I would rather you have told me this, though."
"Sorry."
The wry smile stayed in place across her features.
"You're really not."
Walt shrugged.
"Okay, I'm not. Vic, you need to know who you're dealing with. And…I highly doubt you would get very far doing things…the normal way. So…this is just another avenue to try. He told me that he'll call me when he knows something. And, that he wouldn't raise any flags. It's all…you know…"
"On the down low?"
"Yeah."
Vic vibrated with a laugh and surveyed him.
"Walt Longmire going rogue. There's something kind of hot about that."
Red started to creep up his neck and he dipped his face, which only encouraged her teasing.
"I had no idea you were so well connected."
Walt raised his eyes.
"Are you done?"
She shrugged.
"For now. Okay, so…when you know something…"
"You will, too. How was your meeting?"
Vic frowned and shook her head.
"It sucked. You know I don't do meetings. All that ass kissing they expect is just…ugh."
Walt smiled at her emphatic expression.
"And, you call me rogue."
Vic shrugged.
"Everyone thinks you're so…straight laced. You have this reputation. I know a lot of people who would be surprised to find out you have a little wild streak going on. People expect that from me. But, not you."
"Maybe you're the reason I have it."
Vic tilted her head.
"I…did you just call me bad influence?"
"No."
Vic reached out and shoved at his chest.
"I think you did."
She ducked her face in clear amusement at the idea.
"So…what? I corrupted you? Nice try."
Her hand dropped from his chest and the smile on her face faded.
"As soon as you know something?"
"Yeah."
Vic nodded. Walt turned and opened the door. Walt walked out with Vic on his heels. Colter was at the coffee pot and his eyes fell on them with more than a hint of curiosity at their emergence from the bathroom together. Vic caught his eye with a shrug and an almost serious face.
"He needed help."
xxx
"How's the new kid?"
Vic looked up at Zach as he walked through the office. He paused at her desk when he heard her question.
"Ambitious."
Vic halfway smiled. Weren't they all at that age?
"Is that a bad thing?"
Zach shook his head.
"No, I guess not. But, he might wind up making the rest of us look bad."
Her smile widened a bit as she leaned back in her chair.
"Afraid of being replaced?"
"You never know."
Vic let her eyes fall back down to the notes in front of her.
"Cady's not here so…I think you're safe. Or…we're safe from being replaced. Where is he now?"
Zach crossed the floor and took his own seat.
"He was gonna run radar before he got off."
Vic nodded. Her attention shifted and she could feel Zach still watching her.
"Vic?"
She looked up.
"Yeah?"
He shifted in his seat and looked slightly uncomfortable. That made her feel wary. She and Zach weren't exactly close friends. They got along and worked well together. But, he was closer to Ferg than to her while Vic had a stronger friendship with Cady. Maybe that was what kept her from getting too friendly with Zach. His history with Cady. Although, they parted on good terms.
"Have you talked to Cady?"
"Yeah, why?"
He shrugged.
"I wanted to call her. But…you know."
He moved around in his chair again. Vic eyed him.
"What…you afraid she'll get the wrong idea or something?"
He laughed lightly.
"I don't think so. But…"
His voice faded out. Vic drummed one finger on her desk.
"Are you asking me something or are you just talking?"
He smiled.
"I'm asking you if I should call her, I guess."
Vic stretched her legs out in front of her.
"You still care about her."
She didn't phrase it as a question. It didn't seem to bother Zach.
"I do. As a friend."
"Then, call her if that's what you want. You don't need permission."
She could see him considering her words. Finally, he nodded and looked away, diverting his attention to something on his small desk. Vic leaned her head back and looked at the clock. The minutes seemed to be ticking by slowly.
A call had come in about an hour earlier with a possible sighting of Finn Mason. Walt offered to go with Colter to check it out and Vic was agreeable to it. She didn't want to spend time sitting in a vehicle with Colter and she had paperwork to catch up on. Vic sighed at the papers that littered her desk. She didn't know how Cady kept up with it all. Although to be fair, Cady spent more time in the office than she did. Maybe that was it. She was doing her job and Cady's. And, babysitting Colter. That's how it felt, anyway.
She hadn't heard anything from them since then. Vic's gut reaction was that the sighting wasn't real. It was common when they released a description for people to see that person everywhere. Most of the time, it was a false alarm. But, they had to check.
In a mind reading moment, Vic's phone buzzed. Her eyes moved to it automatically and she could see a text from Walt. Picking up her phone, Vic's eyes ran over the screen.
No luck.
Just what she thought. Vic texted him back and lay her phone back down. It was nearly time to go home. She hoped to leave on time, anyway. These days, who the hell knew anymore. Vic rotated her neck, trying to relieve a slight ache in it. A dull pain was also settling over her head. It was frustrating. The constant tiredness and these headaches she was having lately.
Her generally good mood from earlier in the day had mostly evaporated and she just felt drained.
The paperwork was still sitting there. Waiting. But, Walt would be back soon now.
Hopefully, they could leave and go home.
Her eyes drifted across her desk to Ferg's. He was home with Meg. Fatherhood was rapidly approaching and Vic knew that he was unravelling a bit. Not that she blamed him. With Meg's recent scare, it wouldn't surprise her if it put things into perspective.
A possibly harrowing experience could have that effect.
It seemed like everything was going crazy. Vic closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She really just wanted some relief from her head. From thinking too much, she thought. Just too much on her mind these days.
Vic shook off the thought and focused on the files in front of her.
She didn't look at the clock again and couldn't have said how much time passed as she sat there. Zach was up and down a couple of times before he left. She heard his boots on the stairs until he hit the door and left. She was pretty sure it was only a few minutes later when she heard the sound of boots on the stairs again.
Walt.
She would know his footsteps anywhere. Vic dropped her pen and stood up, stretching her hands over her head and yawning. He came through the door and his eyes fell on her. He started to say something, but seemed to lose the thought.
"Feel okay?"
Vic shrugged as he walked over to her slowly.
"Tired."
His eyes roamed over her like he was looking for something. Trying to figure her out. She looked by him at the door.
"Where's Colter?"
Walt removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair.
"He called it a day. Which is what I think you should do."
Vic nodded and looked around the office.
"Okay. So…no good on the sighting?"
Walt shook his head as he waited for her. Vic pulled on her jacket and zipped it. She shouldered her laptop bag and stuffed her right hand into the pocket, jingling her keys.
"Let me drive."
Vic frowned a bit.
"My truck is here."
"I know. But, leave it. Let me drive."
She started to protest when Walt spoke up again.
"If you get a call, you can take the Bronco."
Vic relented. Her mood and her energy were clearly deteriorating.
"Okay."
They walked out to where the Bronco was parked on the street. Vic paused and looked up.
"Cold tonight."
"Yep."
Vic slid into the passenger seat and pulled her seatbelt across, clicking it and leaning her head back against the seat, her eyes halfway closing. Walt put the key in the ignition, but didn't turn it.
"Hungry?"
Vic shrugged.
"Not really."
Walt gave her a look across the darkened front seat.
"I know you didn't eat breakfast. Did you eat lunch?"
Vic slowly swiveled her head in his direction.
"Yes."
Her short reply didn't escape his notice. Neither did her tone.
"What time?"
His continued pushing earned him a look before she answered.
"I don't know, Walt. I didn't know that you wanted an itinerary of what I did today. Had you told me earlier, I would've made notes so that I could report back to you on it."
Irritation seeped out in her words.
"Vic."
Vic pushed out a breath.
"Don't do that. I hate it when you do that. I can decide if I'm hungry or not. I don't need to be told to eat."
Walt let her sudden burst of frustration subside before he spoke again.
"Are you done?"
A dry laugh escaped her.
"I'm not the one doing the interrogation."
"It's not an interrogation. It's a question."
"Same thing."
She replied quickly.
Walt looked away and out the windshield for a stretch. Vic sighed and looked out the passenger window. Before he could say anything else, she reached over and unbuckled her seat belt. Her hand pulled on the door handle and the door opened, casting the interior in overhead light.
"I'll just drive myself."
Walt reached out on instinct, his hand closing around her elbow.
"Vic…"
She jerked her arm free and got out of the Bronco before she turned around to face him.
"Just…go. I'll see you at home."
Without waiting for a response, she closed the door and walked in the direction of her truck. Walt sat and watched as she slid in and started it up, the headlights illuminating the street in front of her. Pulling out, her tail lights faded into the dark.
xxx
Walt pushed through the swinging doors of the Red Pony. He glanced around as he wove his way through people on his way to the bar. Walt took off his hat and lay it brim up on the bar. He waited until the young woman tending bar noticed him and came over with a smile. He recognized her, but he didn't know her name.
"Evening, what'll it be?"
Walt leaned his elbows on the bar, tipping forward a bit to hear her over the music that was streaming from the jukebox.
"What's good tonight? To eat?"
The young woman's smile stayed in place.
"What kind of mood are you in?"
"Something warm?"
She nodded in understanding.
"Chilly out. We got some good beef stew going."
Walt held up two fingers.
"Two bowls to go, please."
"Sure thing."
She disappeared into the back. Walt tapped his fingers on the bar. He wasn't exactly sure what set Vic off so suddenly. He could venture a guess. But, she hadn't seemed mad when he got back to the office. Earlier in the day, her mood seemed fine. Teasing and laughing, even. He knew it was stress. There was nothing else it could be. Between this case that she was still working to resolve, taking Cady's role, and the news about her father, he was afraid she might be nearing burnout.
She would deny that, of course. He would do the same if the tables were turned. Neither one of them was any good at pacing themselves when the going got rough. They were both so quick to dig in and tough it out. Some things were difficult to change.
Vic was independent. Her self-reliance was a source of pride. It was one of the things he loved about her. That wild streak that didn't know when to quit. That refused to quit, even when the world around her seemed determined to knock her down. It was the very thing that saved her life on occasion. And his.
But, it could be a struggle when she genuinely needed help. It could be a source of frustration when he offered comfort that she didn't want to take for some reason. That would be admitting weakness. Even after all this time, that was hard for her.
She would, no doubt, say the same thing about him.
He toyed with the idea of calling her. But, Walt decided against it. Vic's temper was not new to him. He was familiar with her varying moods. In all honesty, he probably shouldn't have pushed her so hard. But, she needed to eat. That wasn't optional. Not at a certain point. Whether she liked it or not.
So, he did what he always did. He gave her space. She would have time to get to the cabin and remove whatever she could of her work day. Maybe she would shower or just change into pajamas. The small details didn't matter to him. Hopefully by the time he got home, some of her anger would have ebbed.
Maybe.
"Walt, what brings you out tonight?"
His train of thought was interrupted by a familiar voice.
Julia.
Walt wondered how much she frequented this place. It seemed to be a lot. She sidled up to the bar, drink in hand, and offered him a wide smile. An inviting smile.
"Picking up dinner."
His eyes flicked to the kitchen door and he willed someone to come out carrying his order.
"Oh…do you have time for a drink?"
Walt shook his head.
"No."
Julia studied him and sipped from the mixed drink that Walt couldn't identify. Vic would know. She was up on that kind of thing. His current knowledge of drinks was based primarily on beer and whiskey.
Julia pouted a little.
"That's too bad. I think that you and I could have some fun together."
She extended her free hand and placed it on his chest, stepping in closer to him and nearly touching her body to his. Walt instinctively took a step back. Julia laughed at his reaction.
"I don't bite, Walt. Unless you want me to."
She was clearly drunk. Walt cleared his throat, picked his hat up from the bar, and placed it on his head.
"Julia…"
She waved a hand at him, breaking in on whatever he planned to say.
"I know. You're married."
She rolled her eyes when she said it.
"And that baffles me. Because you are so…you deserve to have some fun, Walt. Enjoy yourself. And…your wife seems so…intense. Angry, even. I hope she doesn't direct that at you. You deserve better."
The kitchen door swung open and Walt straightened up.
"That should be my order. You should…get someone to drive you home."
She moved in closer to him again.
"Is that an offer?"
The words came out slurred. The bag of food was placed on the bar. Walt grabbed it and shook his head at the obvious come on. He couldn't deny what Vic had been telling him since their first run-in with Julia.
"No. But, I'm serious."
She flapped her hand at him dismissively.
"I didn't drive anyway. I'm with friends. You should join us."
Walt dipped his face as she crowded him. Her perfume was overpowering and filled his senses. He never understood women who wore such strong perfume. It wasn't attractive in his mind. He preferred the subtle, more natural smell of Vic's shampoo more than any expensive scent that could be bought. Vic rarely wore perfume. Her day to day scent consisted of hints of shampoo, soap, and lotion. She would wear perfume on special occasions. But, it was just enough to make him want to press his face into her skin and breathe her in.
"I should go."
Bag in hand, he retreated and left the bar.
xxx
As usual, she regretted the anger almost as soon as it left her. The voice in her mind started in on her then. Walt only cared. That was why he pushed. Because, that's who he was. And, she jumped all over him with little provocation. She hadn't meant to. But, her head was still hurting, the ache having escalated while she sat and did paperwork.
And, she was tired. Stupid tired. It seemed like sleep was getting harder to come by. She had woken up a handful of times the night before. She hadn't told Walt, but once it was because of a dream. She suspected the dreams were part of what was plaguing her sleep lately. But, she couldn't ever remember when she woke up.
But, she remembered the one from last night.
Vic pushed the thoughts out of her mind as she shed her clothes to shower. Maybe that would clear her head and ease some of the ache. Not to mention, loosen up some of the tautness in her muscles. God, she was so tightly wound.
The hot water felt good. In all honesty, she could've gone to sleep standing up underneath the spray. It was on that note that she kept the shower short. She washed her hair and her skin and then shut the water off. She wanted a fire, but she didn't have the energy to put into it. Walt hadn't come home behind her. He must have stopped somewhere.
Maybe, he was just trying to avoid her.
She couldn't really blame him. She wanted to avoid herself.
Vic dried off and dressed for bed. Against the chill, she pulled on a thick pair of socks along with her pants and shirt. Walt's shirt, actually. She was standing in the bedroom debating on whether or not to go to bed when she heard the Bronco rumbling towards the cabin. Her mind flopped back and forth. All the while, she heard the familiar sounds of Walt close his door, followed by silence as he crossed the yard, then his boots on the steps and porch.
He came in and paused. Taking stock, she assumed. Looking around. Gauging things. She heard the rustle of paper as he walked into the kitchen. Vic closed her eyes and let out a breath. She slowly walked out of the bedroom. From the living room, she could see him standing in the kitchen. He placed a paper bag on the table.
Dinner.
Despite the continued darkness of her mood, she nearly smiled. For all the stubbornness she possessed, Walt wasn't one to be outdone. Whereas her style of head-headedness was more in your face and vocal, Walt was quieter in his rigidity. But, he was no less formidable. That was one of the reasons they worked where her marriage to Sean failed. He could rival nearly anything she tossed his way.
The wooden floor creaked under one of her feet and Walt looked her way. For a long stretch, he didn't say anything. Then, he went about the business of emptying the bag he brought in. Vic took a couple of steps in his direction, her eyes still on him.
"I'm sorry."
The words left her quietly. Apologizing was hard. Once upon a time, she hated it. Avoided it, even when she knew she was wrong about something. Maturity was a funny thing, though. It enabled a person to evolve into a better version with the benefit of hindsight. Past experience.
But, the thing about Walt was that he never rubbed her face in it. He didn't gloat or hold it over her head. Apologizing was a two-way street. Given and accepted with truth. His head bobbed a little.
"I know. I'm sorry for pushing you so hard."
He tossed the paper bag into the trash and faced her.
"Come have some dinner."
It was a request. Vic shuffled to the table and sat down. The stew was still hot and her stomach reminded her that she did, indeed, need to eat. She ate slowly and methodically. She knew that Walt was watching her, although he was trying not to be obvious about it.
Halfway through the meal, he finally spoke again.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
Vic shook her head.
"Not right now."
He accepted that and continued to eat.
Once the food was gone, Walt moved quickly to clean up. He tossed their trash and left the minimal number of dishes for later. Wiping his hands on his pants, he walked by her into the living room where he set about building a fire. Vic watched with a vacant feeling. Hollow, even.
In a matter of minutes, he had a healthy fire going. Vic walked over slowly to join him in front of it. She bowed her head and watched the flames grow, engulfing the logs that formed its base. They stood side by side for a handful of minutes as the room around them warmed.
It seemed like an eternity passed before Walt turned to her.
"Vic."
Her name came out with that multi-layered thing that he was so good at. Vic shook her head and turned into him, rendering him silent. She moved slowly, stepping into his personal space. Her hands landed on his hips and slid around to his lower back. She pushed her face into his chest and then stilled.
He heard the breath that she inhaled and her hands dropped away from him as she took a step back and lifted her face, her eyes connecting with his. She looked tired, but there was something else working its way in. Something he struggled to name.
"You smell."
His first thought was of the bar. The smell of food, alcohol, and people permeated the air there. The smokers who lingered just outside the door left the odor of cigarettes. But, that wouldn't have bothered her. At least, it didn't normally. She might not like it, but she didn't normally complain about it. Vic tipped her face towards him and breathed him in again.
"You smell like…perfume?"
She sounded unsure, but she was right. She met his eyes again and they were filled with questions. And, something else. It was clearer now. More readable.
Apprehension. Fear. A cocktail of both. Vic's stomach churned.
"Walt?"
His name escaped her wrapped up in questions. He fumbled for an answer, not wanting to set her off, but knowing that the truth was the only way to go.
"Julia was at the bar."
Vic's eyes darkened and sparked simultaneously. The effect would have been mesmerizing under different circumstances.
"What…did you hug her or something? Why do you fucking smell like her?"
Her voice wavered and she took another step back. Walt could see his window closing to calm whatever storm was roaring to life inside of her.
"She was drunk. She…she kept getting close. Too close."
Walt kept his voice calm and even.
Vic absorbed his words.
"Did she touch you?"
His hesitation answered the question for her. Vic nodded, her eyes dropping from his.
"Shit."
She whispered the word. Walt reached out and took her shoulders.
"Don't…Vic. Don't jump to conclusions. I told her no. That's what matters. I was only there to pick up dinner and I didn't know that she was there."
Vic bit her bottom lip and dipped her shoulders so that they slid free of his hands.
"What did she say to you?"
Walt sighed.
"Vic…"
She was resolute. He could see that.
"I want to know what she said to you."
"She asked me to have a drink with her. I told her no. She was there with friends. She…came on pretty strong. But…I took our food and left. Like I said, she was obviously drunk."
Vic's eyes held his.
"Is that all?"
He nodded, but even in her fatigued state, Vic could see through it.
"Walt."
His name came out sharp.
"There's no reason to do this, Vic. I left and nothing happened."
"Everything, Walt."
Walt's chin dropped and his eyes fell to his boots. When he looked back up, Vic was still watching him with the same unrelenting gaze.
"She said…that I should have some fun. That you were…"
He cleared his throat.
"…intense. Angry."
Walt nearly didn't say the last part. But, the better option seemed to lay all of his cards on the table and to not omit. He didn't want to worry about the words finding her later. Secrets always found a way to come out.
The truth was always best. Even when it hurt. Or, was uncomfortable.
He saw the motion of her throat when she swallowed and the moisture that gathered in her eyes. Walt knew how her mind worked. He knew what kind of demons lurked in her subconscious. The uncertainty and occasional lack of self-confidence that she normally hid so well.
She stood in front of him now, stripped bare and with a pained expression.
"I guess she's not wrong about that."
Her tone was quiet when she spoke. Walt shook his head and closed the distance between them.
"She is wrong. She…has no idea what she's talking about. She doesn't know you."
He moved to pull her to him, but Vic resisted and pulled away.
"Walt…I can't. You…you smell like another woman. That woman."
The words struck him. Walt started to unbutton his shirt and stepped back from her. Vic frowned.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking a shower."
He undressed as he walked to the bathroom. Vic heard him close the bathroom door and she heard the shower sputter to life. She stayed where she was and watched the fire.
Walt wouldn't cheat on her.
In her mind, she knew that.
But, smelling that woman on him was too much. It wasn't even a nice smelling perfume. It was gaudy and overbearing. Vic found it repelling and it put her mind at war with itself. On the one hand, she wanted to be away from the way he smelled. On the flip side, she wanted to erase it and replace it with her own scent.
The thought was equal parts primal and territorial.
Her body reacted before her mind processed anything. She strode into the bedroom. The water shut off and Walt stepped out of the shower just as she walked into the bathroom. Walt paused, towel in hand when he saw her. She ran her eyes over him and took him in, scars and all. Reaching out, her hand closed around the towel and she pulled it from his grasp with little resistance.
His eyes were on hers and she didn't waver in her stare, holding him in place as she erased the space that existed between them. Walt looked like he was about to say something, maybe question her, when her hands came up to either side of his face. Her fingertips slid into his wet hair as her fingers curled inward, holding him firmly.
Her eyes met his once more before she pulled him to her wordlessly. The force of the kiss was enough to make Walt grunt. For the briefest of instances, he was still. But, his hands came up to her hips as she started to walk backwards, dragging him with her and never breaking the contact of their mouths.
Just before she hit the bed, Vic turned and steered him counterclockwise in a half circle until his back was too the bed. She knew the moment the mattress hit his legs and he sat. Walt was good at reading her.
The best, really.
He seemed to know what she wanted. To sense what she needed from him.
And, Walt wasn't one to hold back.
Vic broke off the kiss as Walt scooted himself up the bed. Vic crawled up him until he lay on his back and she straddled his hips. With one quick movement, she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside, her eyes never leaving his. Walt's hands found a home again on her hips, where he tugged her pants down. With a little maneuvering, they were off and joined her shirt somewhere on the floor.
With nothing separating them, Vic placed her hands flat on his chest and leaned so that she hovered inches above him. Reestablishing the eye contact that seemed so important to her in the moment, she lowered herself without hesitation.
xxx
One of these days, she was going to kill him. But, it would be worth it. Vic was complex. It was easy enough for people who didn't know her to dismiss her outright. Like Julia Corbitt had done. But, such an act was a mistake. Vic's personality was constituted of many facets. They all combined with the right amount to make her who and what she was.
Contradictory.
She was strong, almost intimidating at times. There was a wildness to her personality that would never be quite tamed. It was less obvious now, with time and contentment. But, it still existed. It ran deep. It was partially what caused some to brush her off as rash and impulsive. She could be both. She would admit that. That part of her was partially to blame for the downfall of her first marriage. There were a lot of ways to paint it, but the truth was that Sean simply wasn't strong enough for her. He balked and tried to tamp down her strength in order to hide his lack of it.
But like a wild horse, Vic bucked at control. She required a certain amount of space in which to be herself.
But, there was also a softness to her. A thoughtful side that she reserved for those closest to her. The revelation of that side of her was slow in coming. She needed to trust a person first. Trust was one thing that didn't come easily.
It wasn't uncommon for the aspects of her personality to fight for dominance.
In that moment, she was partially sprawled over him, using his chest as a pillow with one arm draped across him. His heart was still thumping incredibly hard in his chest. Walt wondered if that counted as aerobic exercise.
Her own breathing was slowing down steadily, but she was still a little sweaty. He thought she might fall asleep in that position. But after some time, she moved.
Vic eased herself off of him and fully onto the bed beside him. She rolled onto her side so that she was facing him and placed one hand on his stomach. Her hand was soft on his skin. Soft and warm.
The room around them was partially dark. The light in the bathroom was still on from their hasty exit, casting a thin line of light into the bedroom. The light was enough to allow him to see her eyes. They were softer now, earnest.
"I'm sorry, Walt."
He wasn't exactly sure what she was apologizing for. He didn't care.
"It's okay."
She shook her head.
"No, it's not. I…I hate myself when I get like this. I know you don't like it."
He smiled a little.
"I actually didn't mind."
The words pulled a smile out of her.
"I'm sure you didn't. I just…"
She inhaled a shuddering breath.
"…I can't deal with the thought of her touching you, or hanging on you."
"Nothing happened. Nothing would have happened. You…are the only woman that I want. You're about all I can handle."
She smiled again.
"Mmm…I know that you wouldn't…have sex with her. But…"
She paused again, collecting her scattered thoughts.
"Forget it."
Walt shook his head.
"What is it? You can tell me."
She sighed.
"Smelling her on you just made me all…God, what's the word?"
He smiled.
"I know what you mean. I've been there."
He paused before continuing.
"I'm worried about you, Vic. This case, Cady being out. Ferg being out, now your dad…I think you need to take a break. You're going to burn out if you don't."
Her face stayed relaxed. Her eyes darkened a bit.
"There's something I need to tell you."
"What?"
She was quiet in the next moment while he waited, a bit of apprehension tugging at him.
"I had…a dream last night. A…a bad one."
"How many have you had?"
She shifted a little, her fingers flexing on his skin.
"I don't know. That is the first one I really remember. The rest have been…blurry."
"Same as before?"
Walt was acquainted with the dreams that plagued her sleep in the wake of her miscarriage. Dreams that seemed to start out in the light, with happiness. But, that shifted into darkness when the image of her child vanished. Walt didn't pretend to understand. Trauma manifested differently in everyone.
It was an experience that was unique to the individual.
"Similar."
Her tone told him she didn't want to go into details. He couldn't fault her for that. More than likely, the details were fuzzy anyway.
"Maybe you should go to the doctor. Get something to help you sleep."
Her expression told him exactly what she thought of that idea.
"I don't want to take pills."
Walt turned towards her.
"Will you do something for me?"
She eyed him with a hint of suspicion.
"What?"
Walt hesitated before speaking, unsure of how she would react to his request.
"I want you to take tomorrow off."
She answered quickly and like he knew she would.
"I can't."
Walt shook off her objection.
"You can."
"I'm in the middle of case…"
Walt cut in.
"One day…isn't going to make or break this case. It never has and it never will. You have been working almost constantly since Cady got hurt and you cannot keep it up. You are going to break under the strain, Vic. I can't…stand by and watch it happen. Just…take one day and give yourself a chance to recharge. Call Cady if you need to. I'm sure she'll agree with me."
She didn't look convinced. He pushed on.
"You're not doing this boy any good if you make yourself sick trying to solve his case. You need a clear mind. You need some rest."
Vic bit her bottom lip.
"Walt…I…"
Her words faltered. Her eyes fell away from his. When she raised them back, she simply nodded at him.
"Fine."
It wasn't the answer he hoped for, but it was a step in the right direction.