I could write all the discussions between Walt and Vic that surely follow about the age difference and the employer/employee dynamic and what everyone else in the county will think about their relationship, but it's been done multiple times, in multiple ways, by multiple people, including myself. I don't want to do more of the same. You all pretty much know how Walt and Vic feel about those things. Generally speaking, he's concerned and she's not (according to their grand creator Craig Johnson). So, I've made the conscious decision to not write about these discussions, though I may allude to them here and there. Know that those discussions happened in this story. They had to in order for Walt and Vic to stay true to themselves, but they will not be recorded in detail.

I look at the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time today.

"Vic, is everything okay? That's about the 15th time you've sighed in the last 1/2 hour."

"I'm fine Ruby."

I hadn't realized I'd been sighing. Where is Walt? I'd had a much deserved day off yesterday and haven't talked to him since I left his cabin the night before. Had I pushed my luck and taken things too far? Is he avoiding me? It's 1:00 and he hasn't been in the office all day. I'm not sure I'll be able to hide my anxiety if I ask Ruby where he is so I'm not going to. I try to refocus on the stack of reports on my desk that need finishing up. The skills that make someone a good cop are not necessarily the same skills that make someone good at managing paperwork and it's always been my least favorite part of the job. Why can't there be a robbery or something? A nice, safe crime where no one gets hurt but is still enough to take my mind off my boss. Anything would be a better distraction than sitting at my desk doing paperwork.

I jump when I hear the phone on Ruby's desk ring. Damn, I need to take it down a notch. I stand up and make my way to the Reading Room to take a few deep breaths in private and splash some water on my face. Get a grip, Vic. I open the door and practically run right into Ferg.

"Shit, Ferg! What are you doing?"

"Are you okay, Vic?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You seem a little on edge today."

"I'm not on edge."

"Okay."

I don't think he believes me.

"That was Walt on the phone. He wants you to meet him, but if you need me to I'll "

I practically snatch the post it out of Ferg's hand before he's finished his sentence, "No, I'll go."

"I'll be here if you two need any help." After giving me a cautious look he turns to go back to work.

I take a moment to compose myself before walking purposefully over to my desk to pick up my jacket and keys. I don't look at the note in my hand until I am down the stairs and seated behind the wheel of my truck.

I follow the written directions and eventually turn into the parking lot at the Fort Phil Kearney Historic Site. I pull into the space next to where Walt's leaning against the rear quarter panel of his truck. He keeps his head down until I walk over to him.

"Hey, Vic. Glad you could make it. I didn't interrupt anything at the office did I?"

Not unless you count my obsessing about you, "No."

"Good."

"A state historic site? Did someone steal something from the gift shop?"

"Nope."

"Then what are we doing out here?"

He walks around to the drivers side of the Bullet, "Get in."

I shake my head at his lack of response but do what he says.

"How was your day off?"

"Good."

"Did you do anything fun or interesting?"

Where is he going with this? "Well, now that Shaun's things are gone I spread my clothes out to cover the whole closet instead of keeping them where they were on just one side."

He nods, "That's good...Cady came and helped me pack up Martha's clothes about 6 months after she died. If it had been left up to me it would have taken a lot longer."

"That's understandable. Those were different circumstances than mine."

"I still don't use the whole closet."

"I don't imagine you have enough clothes to fill it, Walt."

"True. What else did you do?"

"Well, I did some cleaning, watched a little TV and then grabbed a book for a nice, long bubble bath."

I notice him smile.

"I do read, Walt."

"Actually, I was reacting to the bubble bath, not the reading."

"Oh." I'm not sure what to say to that and opt for changing the subject, "So where are you taking me?"

"The Fetterman Battle Site."

"What's that?"

"It's the site of the largest Indian victory against the U.S. Army until the Battle of the Little Bighorn. Eighty men under the command of Capt. William Fetterman were ambushed by a group of Sioux, Cheyenne and Arapaho in December 1866. Fetterman and all his men were killed."

"Sounds delightful."

"The Sioux tried to create a repeat performance a few miles east of here the next summer but weren't successful."

"So you brought me out here for a history lesson?"

"I like this place. It reminds to not get too comfortable. Just because something has worked for you once before doesn't necessarily mean it will work again. It also reminds me there is always more than one side to every story."

After he parks the truck we both get out and take in the landscape, "Besides, you get a fantastic view of the mountains from out here."

He looks down at me as if he's trying to memorize my face, "This is it, Vic."

"This is what?"

He starts to walk down the gravel path so I follow.

"This is what we do while we wait for the papers to be signed. We spend time together, get to know one another better. Test the waters so to speak. I like this place. I wanted to share it with you. I'd like you to share things with me too."

"Oh."

"I missed too much time with Martha and Cady because of my job and how much I allowed it to consume me. I missed out on too many birthday parties and Christmas Eves. I missed out on too many breezes and sunsets. It's not a mistake I plan to repeat."

We continue on until I blurt out, "Bluegrass."

"Huh?"

"Music. I like Alison Krauss. I've never admitted that to anyone, not even Shaun. Her live album's the best."

He smiles and nods, "Okay. I look forward to listening to it with you."

I nod, "Okay. This getting to know each other stuff isn't so bad."

"See, you should listen to me more often. I actually do know what I'm talking about sometimes."

"Yeah, I guess you do."

We walk through the Fetterman site, stopping to read the displays explaining both sides of the conflict. I was so used to being surrounded by historical locations growing up in Philadelphia that I guess I'd never really considered that significant historical events happened in Wyoming too. Once we make the turn back toward the truck I decide to try to satisfy my lingering curiosity about Walt's absence from the office earlier today, "So what were you doing all morning."

"Cady came out to the cabin for breakfast and then we took a ride out to visit her mother."

"How did it go?"

"I can't remember when we last had such a special time together. We took the photo album with us. We talked and reminisced. I will treasure that time with her as long as I live. I can't believe I almost never allowed it to happen."

I put my hand on his shoulder drawing him up short, "I'm glad it went well."

He smiles, "Thanks. I am too."

We continue on to the truck in a comfortable silence.

"I still like rock music by the way."

"I know you do, Vic."