Here's part two of this little tale. Things are getting interesting! Hope you guys enjoy— the final installment should be along in a week or so.

Moving Day
Part II

Vic's new place turned out to be a decent-sized second floor apartment at the quieter end of what residents of Durant claimed to qualify as 'town.'

It was situated above an insurance office and featured nicer than average hardwood floors and several south-facing windows that let in an abundance of natural light. The entryway was at street-level with a small vestibule at the bottom of the stairs, perfectly equipped for typical Wyoming jacket-hanging and boot storage. The interior stairway led up to the main living area, which was separated from the kitchen by an island counter. Vic had hired a moving company a few days prior to deal with the truly heavy and cumbersome items, so most of the furniture was already here and the layout of the room was beginning to take shape.

A narrow hallway led toward the back of the building and housed the bedroom, bathroom, and one smaller room that could be put to another purpose. Currently it was serving as home to boxes and random items whose fates were somewhat uncertain. There was also a pile of electronic equipment and a small desk, giving Walt the impression that Vic intended to eventually turn the room into an office of sorts.

The kitchen appeared to be well equipped with all the modern amenities— including a six pack of his preferred beer in the fridge— but Walt made a mental note to check the water and gas hookups before leaving his deputy to her own devices. The smaller kitchen appliances had been stashed in the first set of boxes they'd transported today, so the coffee pot and toaster were already situated and a box full to bursting with pots and pans and an assortment of utensils was perched at one end of the island so they could unpack the basics. He'd already dealt with the plates and cutlery, which had been stuffed haphazardly into another rattling box. He half-smiled, lifting the microwave onto an appropriate space on the countertop. For some reason, Walt wasn't the least bit surprised that his deputy wasn't the most organized of packers.

Another feature of the new domicile was that it was a mere stone's throw from the station, which would be all-around convenient for Vic and also handy in weather emergencies and the like. He had nearly made a comment about how this would be a far better place to take the occasional sorely needed snooze than the cot in the jail cells with its poky springs and soundtrack of unavoidable ambient station noise. Then he realized how it might sound, for him to suggest the idea of himself visiting her home for such an intimate purpose as sleep. Even if he was referring to a quick nap on the sofa, it was far too easy to take the vision a step further and imagine himself sharing her bed.

As an abstract concept Walt would admit that it was something he had imagined often, had dreamt about in surprising detail. The reality, however, was a lot more complicated. He knew what he wanted, and he was under the impression that she felt the same way— there were all the looks, the casual touches, the ever-present tension. But taking that step would change absolutely everything, and although they seemed to be in a constant state of moving toward each other he wasn't sure if they were ready for the next level. Then again, who ever really was?

There was a clattering on the stairs and he peered over from the threshold of the open-plan kitchen to see Vic hefting a long, awkwardly shaped box over one shoulder. As she reached the top and stepped into the room she wobbled, teetering beneath the poorly distributed weight. Walt was by her side in three long strides, stepping in close and carefully relieving her of the cumbersome burden.

"Whoa there. Where do you want this?" It wasn't heavy so much as incredibly unwieldy. He shrugged to one side, readjusting the parcel and using his left hand to steady it.

She blew out a long breath, swiping the back of her hand across her forehead. "In the other room, I guess. At least it's the last box— wasn't sure If I was going to junk it or keep it."

"What is it?" Walt started toward the hallway with her following in his wake to keep up the conversation. He couldn't see her face, but somehow managed to hear her rolling her eyes.

"It's all of the hunting and fishing equipment my charming ex-husband bought when we first moved to Wyoming. He thought living out here was going to be like something out of one of those lame ass adventure novels for pre-teen boys."

Propping the oblong box in the corner of the small room, Walt gave her a look that invited her to continue.

Vic leaned against the doorframe. "Needless to say, he never used any of it. Not so much as one damn lure. When we got here in late summer, work was all over him. He spent five weeks away in the first two months we were here, and by the time things settled down it was the dead of winter and Sean had suddenly lost interest in the outdoorsy life." She snorted. "Kinda ironic, when you consider how much time I was spending trudging over heavy snowpack with you."

She was looking at him wistfully, expression something nearly tender, and Walt was sure there was a deeper message hidden in her statement. Something to do with just how quickly Vic and Sean had grown apart once Walt was in the picture. He found himself suddenly nervous, unsure of what to do with his hands, and obviously unable to beat his escape from the increasingly crowded room with her blocking the only exit.

He cleared his throat. "If they're all in good condition you could sell 'em. Lot of outfitters in the area buy used."

"Guess so," she said with a non-committal tilt of her head. "Looks like we're all done. You want a beer?"

"It's five o'clock somewhere."

"Yeah? Well it's six o'clock here. I think we've earned it."

Now that was a sentiment he couldn't argue with. He followed her back to the main living area, eyes fixed on the wisps of hair at the nape of her neck in a bid to train his eyes away from the swing of her hips in tight black capri pants at the periphery of his vision. Walt was sure the familiar heft of a beer in his hand would calm his prickling nerves. He ran a hand over the back of his head, likely disarranging his hair even further than usual as Vic stepped down from the slightly raised floor of the kitchen and passed close to hand him a Rainier and flop onto the sofa with her own.

The far end of that same sofa was the only other surface not covered with boxes and therefore currently available for sitting. Walt perched there, gradually relaxing against the cushions as his muscles unwound themselves from the exertions of the day. After one sip of the cold beer he realized he'd been remiss, and held the bottle out toward Vic with the neck pointed toward her.

"Cheers, to your new digs."

Returning the gesture, she smiled and pulled her knees up to sit more comfortably, facing him. "To my new life, actually. Cheers, Walt."

Her words hung heavy in the air as they sat in silence, both drinking their beers and wondering just what that might really mean.

xxxxx

Vic couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun. They might only be halfway through their first beer, but she'd managed to break the weirdly charged silence between them by talking a bit about her plans for the apartment. She needed new curtains, definitely, and some of those cool barstools for her kitchen island. She owned a dining room table, but it was in storage— she'd inherited it from a pushy great-aunt, and while she sort of liked the old fashioned styling it was too large to use in this apartment.

Now, a smiling Walt was telling her stories about his days as one of Lucian Connally's deputies. It was so refreshing to hear him talk about something lighthearted, and she found herself laughing out loud at the idea of Lucian needing nine stitches after referring to ex-boxer-turned-burglary-suspect Ricky Bolenbaugh's wife as "Little Ms. Bowling Ball."

They had ordered a pizza, realizing that they hadn't bothered stopping for lunch. In their line of work they seemed to go way too many days in a row without eating properly, so they'd asked for a salad, too. Vic was skeptical, but Walt claimed he really did know where to get a decent pie in this God-forsaken town. At least they delivered— she wasn't interested in moving or letting this relaxed and tousled version of Walt out of her sight.

He had borrowed her cellphone to order the pizza, and had also taken the opportunity to check in with Ruby. Apparently Ferg was out on a probably bogus vandalism call, and there hadn't been so much as a stolen stick of gum in terms of crime for the entire rest of the day. Cady had phoned the station from Denver, but insisted that it wasn't urgent. Vic respected Walt's diligence and sense of duty, and it warmed her heart to see the set of his shoulders change, tension draining away as he realized it was alright for him to unwind for a change… she could get used to the sight of him, no hat, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle as he leaned back against the couch cushions.

I bet I could get used to a lot of things, she told herself in a playful warning tone.

A lull in the conversation found them finishing up their beers as they waited for the pizza, and they sat in companionable silence. Vic ran her pinky finger along the edge of the beer bottle, thinking.

"Thanks for today, Walt. I couldn't have done it without you."

There was that smile again, the one that made her lower abdomen feel fluttery and tight.

"Sure you could have. Just might've taken a bit longer, that's all."

Vic looked at her feet, which were perched in the center of the cushion that separated his part of the sofa and hers. If she stretched her legs out straight, she could easily touch his thigh with her foot. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

He leveled her with a serious gaze. "It's not flattery. It's just the truth."

The earnestness of his statement caused her to grin and shake her head. "Yeah? Well maybe I didn't want to do it without you, even if I could."

One of his bare forearms was stretched along the back of the sofa, and his fingers seemed to flex involuntarily. His eyes smoldered, there was just no other way to describe it. The charged atmosphere was back with a vengeance, but he seemed determined to keep it all in check.

She relented, breaking the intense eye-contact. "You want another beer?"

The sudden change of tone seemed to catch him by surprise. "Probably shouldn't— need to drive home later."

Raising an eyebrow, she lifted herself from the sofa. "Two beers is nothing."

"On an empty stomach?"

"Pizza's going to be here soon, so it won't be empty for long."

He bowed his head in acquiescence, acknowledging her obvious wisdom. "You win."

"I like hearing you say that." She smiled somewhat wolfishly.

Walt shot her a good-natured glare in response. "Well don't get used to it."

Vic busied herself in the kitchen a bit, figuring they could use the space after that intense exchange. She found some forks for the salad and even a pizza cutter in case they needed it. She grabbed two more beers from the fridge, but couldn't seem to figure out what Walt had done with her plates. That was one nice thing about a wide-open living area— it put guests in easy shouting distance.

"Hey Walt? What did you do with my plates?"

"Should be in the cabinet, above the microwave I think…"

She opened and closed a couple of the cabinets, not having noticed that his voice was moving closer. She found shallow bowls they could use for the salad, and finally spotted the plates on the top shelf of the same cabinet. Reaching up on tiptoe, her fingertips could only reach the bottom of the stack. "Who the hell puts their plates on the top shelf?"

A low chuckle emanated from directly behind her, and Vic froze as she saw one of Walt's arms enter the corner of her vision. "I shouldn't've put them up so high. Forgot how short you are." He snagged two of the plates with ease, leaning so close she could feel the heat from his body.

"Short? Now listen here, mister—"

The plates were still in his hand as she half-turned toward him, her shoulder brushing against his chest. She looked up into his face at the same moment he peered down into hers, and that was precisely when they lost control of the situation. Vic absently noticed the sound of the plates clattering onto the wooden cutting board as a rushing noise filled her senses. She felt the edge of the countertop digging into the small of her back as Walt edged in, wrapping one strong arm around her waist and yanking her against him as their lips met for the first time.

Finally. It was all she could think, as the ability to form sentences had fled the moment his mouth claimed hers in an insistent and ardent kiss. Her hands dragged up his chest, one bracing at his shoulder while the other slid up and over his stubbled jaw to rake into the hair just behind his ear. Her eyes drifted shut and she pushed up into the kiss, causing their chests to rub together as the contact deepened. Walt's large fingers dug into her back when the tip of Vic's tongue traced along the seam of his lips. Then both their mouths were open, molding rhythmically as his unoccupied hand cradled the side of her face.

It felt so good, so right, better than she had ever imagined— and she had imagined a lot. Eventually they both needed more air than they were able to take in through their overtaxed noses, and their lips wrenched apart on a shared gasp. Walt was looking at her with obvious affection, and astonishment bordering on panic. His fingers traced over her cheek, his thumb just brushing the corner of her mouth.

"Vic, I—"

She pressed two fingers against his lips. Vic wasn't ready to let this moment end, and she'd be damned if she was about to let him ruin it by becoming talkative all of a sudden. No, she wouldn't let him backpedal from this. "Shhh. Just—"

Breathing shakily, she removed her fingers and replaced them with her mouth. She kept it soft, placing a couple small kisses and then brushing parted lips back and forth before gently drawing Walt's bottom lip between both of her own. Feeling the rapid rise and fall of his chest where her right hand lay over his heart, she almost started to worry at his lack of response. But then he angled his head just so, slanting so that his mouth fit perfectly against hers.

In the midst of their renewed kiss he made a rumbling "Mmmph" sound in the back of his throat that did things to her, not least of which was to make her knees turn to jelly. Walt held her tighter as she leaned into him, and she luxuriated in the feeling of his hand sliding into her hair and carefully pulling the tresses loose from their ponytail. God he was good at this, and she had hopes of spending months, years, finding out exactly how talented Walt Longmire was.

Running her hands over the muscles in his back, she contemplated the possibility of getting horizontal as soon as humanly possible. And hopefully naked, too, although she didn't want to scare him off by being too aggressive. Maybe she didn't need to overthink it— Walt's kisses were passionate and sensual, and now his hand had drifted down to her ass and he was drawing her in and grinding the impressive bulge in his Levis against the junction of her hip and thigh. She released a throaty "Ohhh," and her eyes fluttered open to find him watching her with keen interest. Walt kissed the side of Vic's face, and dragged his lips over to tease the sensitive skin beneath her earlobe.

It was at that point that an unfamiliar buzzing noise rang through the apartment. They both jumped, startled out of their rapidly escalating embrace. They stared at each other, breathing heavily, still standing so close. After a few moments the buzzer sounded again.

Victoria Moretti silently cursed the gods of the Italian culinary universe— their fucking pizza had arrived, five minutes earlier than expected.

xxxxx
xxxxx

Hahaha oh pizza, why did you have to pick today to be delivered on time? Which will prove stronger in the next chapter— the indisputable allure of pepperoni, or Vic's powerful urge to send Walt to bed with no dinner (she'll send herself too of course)? Let me know what you think! ;D