Hello to all the amazing folks I met at Longmire Days! What an awesome experience. It's been a long time since I've been able to visit this story. The plan is to finish before the season 5 premiere date. Thank you for your patience and let's hope it doesn't disappoint.
Anger floods through him. His muscles twist and contort at the rage of the situation and her borderline insubordination.
"What is your problem?" His words are sharp as if he is suddenly aware that she is being disrespectful.
She shakes her head back and forth as her eyes scan the road.
"Nothing. Nothing is my problem."
"Vic." He says her name harder and their eyes meet and don't waiver.
"I don't care anymore." She says, "You can write me up or fire me. It doesn't matter."
His lips press firmly together as the boundaries of his emotional capabilities stretch and tear.
"Are you really this oblivious or are you just a fucking asshole?" She shakes her head as her eyes squint trying to seek any hint of hope.
"I thought this would be an ok time."
"For what?"
"To talk."
"No. You didn't."
Their respective hearts shred in a crisscross pattern with little pieces of flesh floating and swirling between them serving as an occasional reminder of the mutual damage they have done to each other. That's how they leave it. The investigation takes precedence as it should. With his descent into silence she feels part relief and part dismissal but when she spies the Bronco casually lurching up the dirt road she clears her throat and he sits up in his seat. His eyes squint slightly avoiding her judgment. His hand blades against his forehead out of habit verifying the occupants and he sees the golden hues of Donna's hair. His heart doesn't stop. His breath doesn't come up short like it did at the sight of his partner on the madman's porch.
Vic fervently manipulates her thumbs on her iPhone and Walt can only presume she's texting Eamon. She eases the Dodge onto the dirt road, the Bronco just out of sight.
"Eamon will meet us on the east side."
Walt thins his lips as his mind leaps forward filling in the narrative. She doesn't take this silence as insult. This is how they work. When they work. She pulls to the side and they walk the forty yards toward the house as he stares ahead occasionally looking around as if ghosts were following them and maybe they were. He doesn't dismiss the possibility. Eamon's hand is in the air and he silently points towards the rear of the house indicating he has eyes on the corner. They form a triangle for observation and Walt approaches the door and lightly knocks on the custom door. His thumb cocks the Colt's hammer.
Her footsteps are soft on the other side but he hears them.
"Heather, open the door." He says and it is seductively soft but strangely in context.
Vic tilts her head and glares at him trying to decipher the abnormality of his behavior. This time when the door opens he wedges his worn leathered boot between the door and the jam. Vic moves closer keeping her angle with her Glock to her side.
"I know they are here." He says and her toes curl as she steps aside, his hand presses against her arm and he shifts past her in the threshold. Vic is on his heels and doesn't exchange pleasantries with Heather as she enters the perfectly decorated home.
"They are in the study. Go on in." She gives him a half-smile, "You remember the way." It's a declarative statement as much for his benefit as hers.
Walt keeps his hand on his Colt and shortens the distance to the room his blue eyes are bright and transfixed as he searches for the threat. Walt blades the corner and Donna looks over to him, her fingers interlaced between her knees, as she leans forward sinking in the soft imported davenport.
"Desmond, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine." Her voice is clinical void of emotion. "He's here to help us like we talked about."
Desmond looks over his shoulder his weathered face partially hidden by his Army fatigue jacket. He scrapes his fingers across his weathered chin sizing up the tall lawman.
"Desmond." Walt says with the calm familiarity of men who have been to war.
Walt looks at Donna and shifts his weight and the floorboard creaks under the strain. With a slight nod he motions for her to come to him. His arm forms an instinctive barrier as she moves around him sweeping past. Vic resents the gesture but she covers him as he cuffs Desmond without dramatic effect. They work in a perfect tandem without exchanging a word and with the last click of the metal cuff Desmond begins to sob.
"He's suffering from a complete mental break." Donna proclaims.
Walt looks back at her and his lips purse acknowledging her assessment.
"If you can give us a ride to the hospital, Walt, I'll do the paperwork." She is nonchalant about the entire episode and Vic returns the attitude in kind by walking out of the high end home and leaving Walt to both his past and his future.
Eamon meets her at her truck and doesn't ask what happened.
"You ok?" His eye closes from the sun.
She shakes her head but she's not about to cry.
"Want me to kick his ass?" He half-smiles when she doesn't respond.
"You want me to try to kick his ass?"
He shows teeth this time when he smiles and it earns him an eye roll. He'll take that under the circumstances because he knows that's all she will ever be capable of giving him. The aloof lawman has her heart.