"I haven't done this in a long time." He admits knowing that the more he tries to hide his nervousness the more it will show and he knows enough about her to understand that he never wants to be nervous with her, ever.
"Come on, Walt." She says half-humored.
He answers with his customary, "um," as he takes one long stride past her, his chest brushes her shoulder and he blades her body while he grabs the truck door handle.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to, um" his voice trails off and the fast flash of teeth nearly saves him but not quite.
"It hasn't been that long. You had plenty of practice with Lizzie." She digs because she can and in truth she knows she was always jealous and always a little angry even though she had absolutely no right to be either.
He holds open the door and for a moment she thinks he didn't hear her or worse he chose to ignore her and as she presses into the seat she thinks she was wrong about him. He's just like all the rest. He's weak.
She folds her skirt over her lap to move it from the door jam and he stays there, and he's close, and he's touching her side with his chest, his hand gripping the edge of the door frame. He looks over and sighs and pulls his pants up the way he does then he looks back at her, gritting his teeth.
"Lizzie was a distraction." He says it like he's quoting the weather report.
She turns to face him, her eyes blank but indignant and before she can retort he leans in just a little and says kind of low, " A necessary but unfortunate distraction and I was wrong but it's done now."
She gathers her senses, pleased that her momentary assessment of him was wrong, and her approval of him is transparent then suddenly without any warning or prediction he leans a little closer and she does too and their closed lips press together but neither one of them says anything and they don't touch each other or paw at each other instead she leans back in her seat while he closes the door like they have rehearsed this in their imaginations and he walks around and gets behind the wheel and as he turns the key in the ignition he looks over at her and asks, "You ready?"
He's asking about more than dinner but it doesn't change her answer, "Yeah."
It is pleasant enough as first dates go between friends. The unsureness and battlefield of nerves is absent as they relax into casual conversation that centers around work, Durant, and Absaroka in general. Vic doesn't feel the need to impress him so she orders a steak and he does the same and they laugh and smile and tease like they used too back before the darkness took over. Neither one of them talks about it and neither one of them is prepared to talk about it really so they avoid it and after dinner they stroll to the ice cream shop Walt spotted on the main street and somewhere between the first block and the second block he finds her hand and she holds her fingers together and presses her palm into his.
They stand in line with all the other Saturday night couples and study the flavors on the multicolored chalked menu. Walt steps behind her, fists ground in his pockets, and his eyes focused on the chalkboard to avoid being distracted by the scent of coconut filling her hair. A couple of recalcitrant kids run through the shop and bump into him forcing his hands up and onto Vic's back.
"Sorry, Mister."
The obviously frazzled mom calls them back over and apologizes. Walt smiles and retrieves his hands.
"You didn't have to move them."
She says without looking at him so he steps just a little closer with his hands splayed on her hips and she leans back into his chest and he feels the heat from her body and the thought flashes that they fit and he smiles because it's like he's always imagined in his day dreams.
"What are you going to have?" His baritone voice hovers above her head.
"I'm still thinking."
Vic's distraction weighs on her mind as she tries to remain cool while pressed against him. She's always wanted to touch him like this and the urge to do so has altered her behavior over the years. She's conditioned herself to ignore him and dismiss his sexuality and now that she can acknowledge it she is a bit thrown by what to do with it because being with him is easier than she ever thought possible. She thinks that the proverbial shoe will drop at any moment and she catches herself holding her breath and waiting.
They stand and keep their places in line and when they reach the cold counter the aged clerk smiles brightly his large brown eyes radiate through his square black glass frames, "Welcome to the Shop. What can I get the missus?"
Walt expects a scatological response and intercedes, "Anything she wants." He smiles at the clerk and he repositions his grip on her hip and he can feel her flinch.
"I'll have what he's having." Her words are stilted as she displays her best behavior.
"Double scoop of chocolate."
"Just plain chocolate?" The clerk asks.
"Yup."
"Living it up, I see." He jokes.
"Yup, usually get vanilla." Walt gives him a rare glimpse of his campaign smile.
Vic laughs out loud and puts her hand on his threading his fingers through hers just before reaching up and taking her cone.
She turns around, looks up, and smiles, "I'd offer you a lick, but you have the same flavor."
He feels his ears getting hot and he takes his cone, "Here hold this while I pay the man."
They smile at each other and walk down the street eating their ice cream completely at ease with each other and in the fictitious world they are presently walking in they silently agree to hang out there for a while.
At her house, he walks her to her door, and he takes off his hat and holds it in his hand circling the brim round and round out of habit.
"I had a lovely time, Walt." She smiles and she's beautiful.
"Me, too." He says. "It was nice." His face is a bit pensive and he can feel it, he can feel everything, and it doesn't scare him because he's convinced she feels it too.
He cants his head and leans forward and she meets him half-way, his fingers trace her cheek and rest on her ear as his slightly parted lips meet hers. They stand there in the deep darkness of night and they kiss and hold each other and it feels good, it feels natural, it feels right.
Their hands are tentative though their hearts aren't and she pulls away, his face flush, "I need to say goodnight." She says into his chest.
She can feel his heart beating through her fingers. Out of habit and past experience she's prepared to offer a host of defenses for denying him but he tells her goodnight in her ear and leans back.
Vic can't help but notice the bulge in his jeans but she doesn't stare at it or touch it or say anything because if she does he will be saying good morning instead and as much as she wants him she knows she's not ready, not yet.
He smiles his beautiful tight lipped smile and asks, "Would you like to go out again for dinner or something?"
She nods, "That would be nice."
He kisses her on the side of her mouth and says, "Great, so, ah, goodnight."
He gives her a quick grin and a faint wave and walks back to his truck and she knows without a doubt it will be or something.
If only they could be this easy! The rest is for your imagination. See you on the other side of season 4.