A/N I've now written half of the next chapter as well and I have no idea how many more chapters there will be in this story. Also my husband and I are moving in a week so I probably wont be able to post so often as packing takes time. After that I'm going to a place with no access to a computer, let alone the internet for a week. Despite all this, I will not abandon this story, so don't worry if I don't update for a couple of weeks..

Also a huge thank you to all you lovely people who've read, reviewed, favourited and followed this story! You are all wonderful!

I own nothing and make no money.

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Her head was pounding. Slowly opening her eyes Vic could see institutional ceiling tiles and strip lights that were gleaming with light that seemed to be coming from a window somewhere to her right, rather than their own pallid glow. She slowly turned her head and saw a chair next to her bed with a very familiar coat hanging off the back of it. Vic was just contemplating pushing herself into a more upright position when the door on the left side of the room opened and Walt walked in carrying a cup that smelled distinctly of coffee.

"That for me?" she asked, smiling, deciding that sitting up was not such a good idea after all.

"No. This one is mine. You can have some water though. Or I can see if I can't find some ice chips for you." He smiled back and Vic couldn't help but notice the relieved look in his eyes as he scanned her face. It reminded her of another time they had been in the same situation, her in a hospital bed and him coming to visit.

"Water would be good. Thank you." She said as he approached the bedside table that was out of her reach and poured her half a cup before passing it to her. "What happened exactly? I remember the shooting but… I assume the asshat got in a lucky shot." Walt settled himself into the chair after pulling it a little closer to her bed.

"The asshat's shot went through the other guy before hitting you. Chipped rib, punctured lung and stomach and nicks on your liver. He's in hospital too, but he'll soon be in prison for a very long time." He informed her, his voice seeming to waver a little when he listed her injuries.

"Thank you Walt. For saving me." Vic said quietly, laying her hand on his where it rested on his knee. He turned his hand around to grasp hers and give it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm just glad you're ok."

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It was three days after she woke up before Vic got out of the hospital. The doctor gave her strict instructions on not to lift anything heavy, overexert herself or do anything much apart from take her antibiotics like a good girl. Relieved to be finally getting out, she signed the papers and point blank refused to accept the wheel chair ride to the door.

"I'm not a damn invalid. I'm perfectly capable of walking, so I'll walk." She felt a slight tinge of guilt at shouting at the nurse like that, but pushed it aside and walked to the door. They'd asked her whether she wanted them to call someone to come and get her, or call a taxi, but she had shot them down in that too. Armed with a bag of meds and wearing her outfit from the rave, she tottered out of the hospital.

Two days previously Ruby had called Vic's room and Walt had been called away to attend to a domestic disturbance on the outskirts of town. Despite enjoying his presence Vic had needed some time to think and to come to terms with the new dimension that seemed to be developing in their relationship. He was more open about looking at her and seemed to be more comfortable with touching her and being touched. She'd have been lying to herself if she said that she didn't enjoy the change, but it also made her want to think it over in a nice long bath (not an option with the stitches, even if her new flat would have had a tub), with a glass of wine (also out thanks to the meds) and some relaxing music (not available in the hospital). In absence of all this she wanted the room to herself for a few hours to do some uninterrupted thinking. It was thanks to this desire that she had practically forced Walt out the door, repeating several times that she was fine.

And he hadn't been back since. She'd spent the last day thinking that maybe there was nothing new going on between them after all and it had all been a hallucination caused by her medication, or worse yet, that she had, in her drugged state, pushed the boundaries between them and he had retreated as far as possible at the first opportunity.

Frustrated with the sawing back and forth that was going on in her head, she decided that the mile and a half walk to her new flat wasn't too far, especially if that meant that she didn't have to call the man that she was in love with, but who might have felt nothing towards her. Unfortunately she had not calculated her ridiculous heels that she'd been wearing the night of the shooting into her calculations of the distance. By the time she was less than half way to the building she called home her side felt like it was on fire, her feet were killing her and she was sure there would be nothing left of her little toes once she made it home. She was just swearing under her breath when she heard the distinct sound of a truck slowing down behind her.

"Just what the HELL do you think you're doing?!" Sheriff Walter Longmire had been annoyed, frustrated and even a little bit angry at her before, but now he sounded down right furious. She stopped like she'd hit a wall and slowly turned to look at him. He was standing in front of his truck, arms akimbo, a red tinge colouring his frowning face. His eyes seemed to bore into hers as the frown on his face deepened. "Well?"

"I'm walking home." She responded a little hesitantly, not wanting to aggravate the man standing in front of her.

"Get in the car." He ordered curtly before marching to the passenger side door and opening it for her. Deciding that arguing would produce no results, and admitting to herself that walking had completely lost its appeal in the half a mile she had covered, she made her way to the open door. Vic shivered a little at the heat radiating from his body and the feeling of his hand on her back as he leaned close to help her up onto the seat.

Once he was on his seat he turned to look at her. "Why didn't you have them call me to come and give you a lift home? Or if not me, then one of the others? Or even a cab?" When Vic turned to look at him, she could see the fury had subsided, replaced by a look that was mostly worry, but also a tinge of what seemed to be hurt. Had she hurt his feelings by not asking for his help?

"I'm sorry Walt. I thought... I thought you were all busy with work and I didn't want to cause a fuss and it's not a long way so I figured I could make it on foot."

"Vic. I- We all -care about you. It's not causing a fuss to ask for a ride. You were shot four days ago. You shouldn't be walking any more than you absolutely have to." His hesitation at saying he cared about her made Vic fairly certain that he had been a little offended that she hadn't called him, like he didn't think she really cared for him.

"Thanks. If I would have called anyone, I would have called you." She assured him with a little smile. He sighed deeply and his lips tilted up a little in response.

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When Walt had arrived at the hospital and found Vic's room empty a horrible feeling of panic had descended upon him again. Where was she? A split second later he realised that she had probably been discharged and there was nothing to worry about. He found the nurse in charge of the ward and questioned her about the whereabouts of Deputy Moretti.

"She was discharged about an hour ago."

"Who did she get a lift with?"

"She didn't want us to call anyone, not even a taxi. Told us to mind our own damn business. Then she refused to sit into the wheel chair to be taken to the door. Something about being able to walk so she'd walk." The nurse was obviously not impressed with the way Vic had been acting and even if Walt hadn't known who they were talking about, the nurses description would have made Vic his first suspect. Authority issues indeed.

As he stalked to his car his temper was definitely on the rise. She was hard headed and foolhardy. Why hadn't she called him? Was it because she didn't want him near her? He had been more tactile than normal with her in the hospital before Ruby had called him away. Vic had practically pushed him out the door, insisting that he was wasting his time with her and that she would be perfectly fine on her own. He hadn't been able to stop himself from thinking that she had pushed him out because she had been uncomfortable with how he had behaved since the shooting. That maybe she hadn't wanted to say anything but had needed to go back to the amount of space that had been between them since the beginning, back to the professional relationship. But if that was the case, why hadn't she called Branch or Ferg to come and pick her up.

He realised he was being irrationally angry as he drove down the road towards Vic's house, but that didn't help calm his temper. It was roused even more when he spotted a familiar blonde head of hair walking down the road. He wouldn't have recognised her if it hadn't been for the familiar gleam of her hair on its usual ponytail. She was wearing almost nothing, her skirt indecently short and the heels so high it was a miracle she hadn't toppled over yet. As a man he appreciated the sight of her legs and might have even briefly imagined them wrapped around his waist, but he did not appreciate that everyone else could see that much of her as well. It was stupid but the burst of jealousy just seemed to make him even angrier.

When she turned around at his shout, he could see a flash of the blood-stained white top she was wearing underneath the jean jacket she had on against the distinct autumn chill in the air. The sight of the blood reminded him of how close he had come to losing her and his anger abated a little. She seemed hesitant in her response probably wondering why he was so angry, but she came to the open door without argument. Her heels made them almost equals in height and when he put his hand to her back to help her into the cab, the warmth of her body seemed to awaken his senses. He felt her shiver a little and reminded himself to turn the heat up in the car as he made his way around the front to his side.

The rest of his anger disappeared when she quietly said that if she would have called anyone it would have been him. He allowed his lips to rise into a smile when he glanced at her smiling at him.

"Good."