AN: This is my first attempt at a Longmire story, and it's an episode tag for Harvest. I usually don't write in first person, either, but I've gotten so used to Walt's thoughts being presented that way through the books that I was doing it before I even realized it. Anyhow, please let me know what you think.
Unexpected
Vic Moretti crying was something to behold, and something which I was sad I had to see in the first place.
I could feel her tears through my half-open shirt, her face pressed against my neck, one hand fiercely gripping the faded chambray at my shoulders.
It had been a long time since my safety had worried someone like this.
In her defense, she'd had a particularly awful twenty four hours. I'd seen some of the evidence – her wrists, her ribs, her face. With every new injury that had been revealed, I was glad all over that Chance Gilbert was dead. In fact, I was contemplating going to the morgue and shooting him again, just on principle.
I guess the bullet that had grazed my arm was the thing that pushed Vic over the emotional edge.
"It's alright, kiddo," I said quietly, hand cupping the back of her head again. "Everything is alright."
Her grip didn't relax.
She wasn't the only one who had been deathly afraid yesterday.
"If it's all the same to you," I continued, still talking to the side of her head, "could you not scare me like that again?"
I could vividly remember the fear that had crept down my spine as I'd pieced everything together. The one person that was more dangerous to Vic than Ed Gorski…what were the odds? Hell, maybe Chance'd had his Americano survivalists herd the damn bear into the road.
At this juncture, not much would surprise me.
After several more minutes, Vic turned her head so her cheek was on my shoulder, breathing now interrupted only occasionally by a small sob. "I'm sorry," she finally whispered.
I thought about stepping back so I could see her eyes, but I didn't think she'd let me get that far. "For what?" I demanded.
"For being stupid enough to walk down that driveway." Her tone was hard. "You could have been killed."
This time, I tipped her chin up, keeping my other arm around her. "I think you took too many blows to the head. You were the one that was in danger of being killed."
I held her eyes, and I could see the residual fear and exhaustion in them.
She put her head back on my shoulder and I let her, realizing that she really did just need to be held. I was the one around to do it, for about fifteen different reasons, not the least of which was that I wanted to be.
I felt her release a deep breath, felt her eyelashes against my neck as she blinked slowly. She still had my hat in one hand.
It had been a bit of a strange moment, getting stitched up for the umpteenth time, Vic sitting in the corner of the room holding my things, in the spot that was usually reserved for wives. She had been utterly silent, and I had gotten the impression she was somewhere far away.
She finally stepped back, her death grip on my shirt relaxing. For just a heartbeat, I pressed my forehead against hers, then released her fully.
"I'm taking you home," I said, shrugging into my coat with a little difficulty and reaching for my hat. "You're officially off for the rest of the day."
Vic gave me the barest hint of a smile, wiping at her face. "Gee, thanks, boss."
We walked to the truck.
I didn't touch her again.
XxXxXxXxX
"Glad we could have this heart to heart."
And then she was gone.
I wasn't an idiot. I knew what she wanted to hear. But it wasn't something I could say, not right now.
"No, I don't want you to quit because I'm pretty sure I'm more than a little in love with you, despite the fact that you're married, technically my employee, and just a few years older than my daughter."
That would have been a hell of a conversation.
It did not make it any less of a true statement.
This was not a decision I could make for her. If I asked her to stay, she would. But she needed to stay for herself, and not because of some idea about something I wasn't even sure I could offer her.
Maybe, with time.
I put my head on my desk and sighed. I then tried very hard to not think about what the rest of my life was going to look like if I didn't have Vic around.
I failed.
XxXxXxX
When I found her in my office, waiting for me behind the desk, I'd felt my heart sink right into my knees. This was it – her resignation.
Very reluctantly, I took the envelope from her.
"I don't want to read this."
But as I scanned the first few lines, I was given a shock. There was hope, a great deal of it, and relief that this was not the news I feared, but it was replaced almost instantly with deep misgivings.
There was also some flat out fear when I read the part of the report that Cady had supplied.
"We need to do something," Vic said, still paused at the office door.
Despite the gravity of the situation, I looked up at her. "We?" I echoed.
She folded her arms, chin raised in a defiant manner I knew very well, though I wasn't sure which of the men in her life she was rebelling against – me or her husband. "As it turns out, there aren't a lot of other jobs in Durant I'm qualified to do."
I smiled, not bothering to hide my pleasure at her words. "Vic, this is the second time this week you've scared the hell out of me. My heart can't take much more."
Her answering grin was a bit tight around the edges, but it was a smile nonetheless. "Mine either," she replied, and I knew there was going to be some fallout from Sean about this. How much and how severe…well, we would see. Her eyes crinkled at me. "I thought deputies came and went, Walt."
She was fishing, but under the circumstances, I was willing to take the bait.
"They do," I allowed, "but angry, blonde Italian women are in short supply out here, and I'm thinking I'd have a hell of a time replacing you."
Her smile was broader now. "You're damn right you would."
I refolded the letter she'd written, tapped it against my desk.
Vic's eyes followed my movements. "What are we going to do?" she asked again.
I thought. "Well, tonight, we're both going to go home and get some sleep and hope Branch doesn't go off the deep end in the next twelve hours or so. Tomorrow, we'll make a plan."
She nodded, pushed at the door again. I could read the lines of exhaustion in her stance.
"See you in the morning."
And as long as I did, I would deal with the rest of it.
"Goodnight."
I sat at my desk a long time after she left, wondering how in the hell life had gotten so complicated.
But Cady was safe in town tonight, and so was Vic. Henry was out of prison. There had been nights when none of those things were true, so I decided to be an optimist for the moment.
One day at a time.