A/N: Haven't had much time lately, have new mysteries and a huge backlog of science fiction flowing to my critique groups. So far I have two stories to enter in the Tony Hillerman short story contest, and hope my novel "Misdirection," currently undergoing liposuction for the magic 60k word entry, will be ready in time. This just poured out a few days ago, so I submit it to last until I can finish the other stories here (yes I do plan to finish them.) I envision this as a two-parter. This is pretty hot off the presses, be kind re typos.

The PREMISE: Is based upon a REAL experience I had, a black-out night in Sheridan, Wyo in 1974. I was 20, the age we all do stupid and silly things and hope our guardian angels are in synch with us those moments.

Truth is usually weirder than fiction. We were summer college students who kept our Jim Beam or whatever cool in the pop machine in the dorm. Geologists are a drinky bunch. We all went out dancing at a bar. Most of us were drinking Coors, but someone suggested I try a Rusty Nail (with Scotch which tasted like paint thinner) started dancing again, and I don't remember anything after…lost my favorite tin camp cup out of the Suburban that night, and woke up in my underwear in the dorm the next morning. My roommate (female) had kinda helped me undress. I remain thankful for her chaperonage that night.

So, reviewers: It COULD happen…LOL

Rememorize

Vic eventually resigned herself to the fact it was time for a hem-and-haw confrontation, and infiltrated Walt's office early Friday afternoon, while Ruby was out at lunch and Ferg was on patrol.

"Walt."

He looked up from his reports, and the brittleness around her heart softened, just a little. He had deep shadows under his eyes, had for a while, really. The Wrongful Death lawsuit was still pending, and she knew it ate away at his independence and made him second-guess his every move. They had all been pulling double shifts without Zach or Eamonn, and she suspected he was afraid to hire another deputy while under such scrutiny. What she had to say would only complicate that, but it had to be said.

"I need to tell you something."

"Okay." He didn't rise, something he used to do in deference to her as a woman. Part of her new persona-non-gratis, she guessed. It went along with the mysterious relationship with his girlfriend Donna, although she had thought at one point that might change. She had no idea of Walt and Donna's status.

The nature of my relationship is none of your business.

"Um. I'm pregnant."

Well, she got a reaction. Thunderstruck. Tongue-tied. Pole-axed.

Worse than hem-and-haw, then.

"Uhmmm…"

"I just thought you should know. I'll take myself off active duty in a couple of months when I start showing, where it might affect my performance."

"Uhhhh.."

"I've been looking around, and there are some trailers out near the Rez I may be able to afford, I won't trouble Cady with staying on, and I already have been watching the daycare ads, so I'll make it work."

"Ah, okay…" He appeared to be still struggling.

She waited. She knew he was processing an that it often took a while to get to his conclusions.

He finally managed, "The guy. The dad. What about the dad? Will he help?"

That one stopped her. Eamonn, only the once, had been more than five months ago. She was two months pregnant. Was he making some kind of joke? No…he wouldn't joke about that. That must mean…Walt didn't…remember?

They had both drunk too much, but what a night. It remained an indelible imprint on her memory, but…he genuinely didn't remember? Shit. No wonder there had been no indication, no offers, no apologies, no repeats in the last couple of months. He wasn't embarrassed, he wasn't pulling punches or in denial, he really didn't remember.

Ahhh, the seduction of Lucian's Pappy's. She'd thought she'd been far more memorable than that, but evidently not.

Her lips twisted to keep her answer neutral. "Um, not right now. I just thought you should know," she said again, feeling stupid and even lower than before. What had she expected? Protestations of love from him? She'd known better than that, but this…total absence of memory, like a wipe…

She sighed. "I had better get back to those phone records."

He made a noise, maybe agreement, maybe just actually taking in her words. He nodded, still looking pole-axed.

Well, so was she, for that matter.

He really didn't remember?

XXX

Two months ago

He'd called her from the cabin just before she left work for the day. It had been one long, shitty day in a succession of them.

"I've made a list of the suspects I can remember seeing at the party. I thought maybe we could compare notes."

She sighed. The downward spiral since Chance, Branch choking her, Walt's punch, in charge of the office for a month, had all taken their toll. She was just so damned tired, and she admitted on the other end, strung tight.

"Um, you don't have a date tonight or something?"

"No, she cancelled. I'm free."

That stung more than a little, it must mean he was still dating the doctor.

She exhaled. "I don't know, Walt. It's been a long day."

"Bring something from Henry's. We can eat and go over the list."

Fuck. That almost sounded like a date, but on command. Not good.

You can do this. Just say "no." But when had that ever happened? Not even when she was married to Sean. Finally in an exhaled rush, "Okay, but it'll be a while. I'm still working on the warrant."

"Whenever you get here is fine."

She punched the phone off with more force than it deserved. Who was she kidding? She was freer than free. Cady would be delighted if she went out for an evening. Since that one misbegotten night with Eamonn, she hadn't been out anywhere for anything, much less a date or a guy. Work with Walt in the evening was just more day, right? She was overworked, and he was working non-stop trying to repair the holes his management style had wrought since Martha's death.

She pulled up to the cabin in a flurry of dust an hour later.

He came out to the porch, beer in hand as she mounted the steps.

She held out the bag to him. "Dinner as requested."

Indulging her exhaustion, she went over to one of the rush-seat chairs along the porch. Plunked down. "Long day." It might have sounded like she was apologizing, but she wasn't, just enjoying the absence of motion.

He popped the tab and held out the beer to her. It was cold. She took it. "Thanks, but just the one. After that double shift, I was ready to either go home and straight to bed, or take a nap in a cell. This won't help."

It was well past time to rehire another deputy, and home was still a room at Cady's. Until Sean left, she didn't realize how little a deputy's salary bought in Durant, and how much a premium real estate market Durant had become with the casino so close.

"Well, let's go over the list and you can go on home. I probably shouldn't have asked you."

No, he shouldn't have—but when had that ever stopped him, before?

"Yeah, I guess the kid can get ruled out because his family provided him an alibi?"

He pursed his lips. "Maybe."

They ran down the list, with him still holding the bag with dinner in it. They ruled out almost everybody, but she made a few notes to check out. The work never ended. Par for the day.

She finished her beer, and without food, she felt a little light-headed, just enough to ask, "So we're not at the office. How's the investigation, the lawsuit, and that other stuff going?"

He turned and she thought she maybe saw a frisson of fear cross his face.

"Fuck, Walt, that bad?"

"Come on in and let's eat." He opened the door, she levered herself out of the chair and walked inside with him.

He went back in the kitchen, rummaged around and emerged with a nearly-full bottle of Pappy Van Winkles' Private Reserve.

"Christmas present from Lucian. Maybe also a 'sorry my brother had your wife killed,' bottle." His voice was like gravel, and more than a little wry, maybe trying for a levity that didn't work.

Uh-oh. Had she said the wrong thing? Had she started him on one of his think & drink cycles? She thought those had gone away after Martha, after Pronghorn Ridge, or maybe the month-long isolation after Barlow.

He held up the bottle in question. She shook her head 'no.' "I'll pass, but I'll eat my burger, and then I should go." She moved to the bag and pulled hers out.

She didn't want to watch him self-destruct, disintegrate. Once she had been his friend and would have followed him through hell and to the other side if necessary, but he had put her in her place in a derelict alley three months ago. She had not tried to pry further. Even tonight she was only asking a question which would impact them all if the suit did not go well.

He brought glasses and took a shot of Pappy's straight up and fast.

Shit. Any further discussion of the case was probably over. She began to eat, not polite, just fast.

"I'll get out of your hair as soon as I finish."

"Stay. For a bit." His voice was soft, almost pleading.

A pang, just that was what he'd asked while she'd been vulnerable, signing those fucking divorce papers and thinking he'd meant more. Stay.

"That hasn't worked out so well, for me, you know."

His eyebrows scrunched, and he poured another Pappy's. A search for liquid understanding, perhaps.

"What do you mean?"

"You asked me to stay. I'm not happy I stayed."

His brows drew down, and he went for Pappy's number three.

"Why are you not happy?"

She blinked slow and tried to formulate an answer to that which didn't sound needy. "You asked me to stay, so I stayed because you asked me to. Now you've moved on, and I haven't."

He looked confused. He reached for the Pappy's. "This stuff is as smooth as Lucian claims."

"Right." She was disgusted, and swiped the last of her French fries in catsup. "You really should eat something, Walt."

"Maybe later." He tossed back another shot.

Her heart sank, as he confirmed his intention to wallow.

"Okay, well…" she cleared her throat. I should be going."

"Donna cancelled, you know. She's cancelled three times the last two weeks."

Her lips twisted. "How many times did you cancel?"

He got a silly grin on his face. "Three times. Maybe she's mad at me."

Her lips bunched. Join the club.

"Don't go yet. Do you hear that?"

She stilled, listening. "Hear what?" She almost whispered it.

"Nothing. Nothing but a cricket or two. It's so pure at night."

She didn't disagree. If the situation weren't so sad, she would love to sit and just listen to nothing for a while. It was definitely peaceful, despite the cabin's history of violence.

"It gives me peace." He sounded so weighed down with everything he took upon his shoulders.

"It is…like serenity away from the world." She stopped, seeing him watching her.

Right. Her cue to go, before drunken Walt became self-pitying insensible Walt. She didn't want to watch that.

He sat up straight. "I think of her at night, you know."

Think of whom? Pronouns are so important. Please God, let it not be Donna.

She drained the last of her beer. "Who do you think of at night, Walt?" She asked it, preparing for her armor to be further shredded.

"Martha. I still miss her sometimes, 'specially when it's quiet. The quiet is like my friend, but lately, at times, it feels like my enemy."

Her heart melted. She understood loss and loneliness, even if she hadn't experienced it to physical death. In her mind, his loss as a friend to her was a daily death of sorts.

He wobbled as he sat. It woke her up to his vulnerability.

"Let's get you settled, Walt. I'll fetch you a blanket out of the pantry."

That she knew at all where they were remained an artifact of the one awful night she had spent on his couch long ago, when Lizzie had ignored the two trucks out front and acted like her being there was some sort of cosmic surprise.

She reached to try and get him to lie down, and he pulled her to him and buried his head in her chest.

"Stay. I don't want to be alone."

Shit. Wasn't this what she had wanted? Once? Maybe, but not like this.

She allowed herself to touch his hair, wrap her arms around him, comforting.

"It will all come out okay, Walt, it all will."

"She didn't just cancel. Donna broke up with me." His words weren't slurred, but were very soft.

Well, she wasn't sorry about that, so she really couldn't say anything to it. Over the last three months, she had made a few professional courtesy calls to Eamonn along the way, but hadn't had a personal conversation with him since he'd taken her to task at the Red Pony. They had each understood the other very well after that. Walt stood, or possibly, lay, unresolved between them.

"Aah, so that's what all this is about."

"And the lawsuit moved up another level, today."

She took a deep breath. It was all hitting him at once. She hadn't seen him drunk like this, ever. He might have some Rainiers from time-to-time, but he could hold a number of them pretty well. This was…different.

"If you're asking me to feel sorry for you, I don't. You chose Donna, you chose this route."

"At first I thought she was like Martha, and then, after Eamonn…I just wanted to hurt you."

Shit, he really was drunk. Well, then, she'd let him have it. Both barrels.

"I was only with Eamonn the once, to hurt you, Walt, and I'm really sorry things turned out like they did." She rose to gather her Styrofoam, bag and napkins and take them out to the indoor trash can at the back. No outdoor trash because of bears, of course.

When she returned, he was sitting up again, looking at her. She pursed her lips, tried to dismiss how he still drew her, but it was not a successful attempt. "I'll give notice as soon as I find something where I might have a future."

The look on his face was so sad, it took everything in her not to hug him again.

"You had to know this was coming, after what you said in the alley, right? It can't be a surprise. You can't trust a partner who keeps secrets."

He looked stricken. She closed her eyes, opened them again.

He cleared his throat. "What I said was wrong, but now, I just need to forget." He poured and drank another shot. Right about then, it looked pretty good, and there was another glass, just beckoning.

Double fuck. Maybe she needed to drink to forget, too. He looked from the glass to her, inquiring.

She exhaled. "Just the one." It wobbled as he poured it, but made the offering with no mishaps. She already knew it, she was so fucked…just being there was wrong for both of them, and it had very little to do with sex, but almost everything do to with love.

XXX

Two months later

After Ruby left, Walt came out of his office almost at a shuffle, the one leg, the old injury he would never admit, which dragged. She had seen how tired he'd looked at his desk. She was feeling kind of sleepy, herself. It was evidently a symptom of pregnancy she had not known about before.

"If you need any help, or me to talk to the father…"

She ducked her head. She almost blurted it out: "Talk to yourself!" - But she didn't.

"Thanks, but—remember the alley? Works two ways."

He blanched a little, but his features went impassive. "Oh. Okay."

"Good night, Walt."

She gathered up her things, past the gate and to the stairs. He was still standing behind her, almost dazed.

You be dazed, big guy, maybe it will help you remember.

XXX

At Cady's house, she put on tea and listened to messages. None for her, no surprise there.

Cady got home, pulled a beer from the fridge.

"Want one?" she asked casually.

"Um. No."

"Okay." But Cady's face registered disbelief. When had she ever turned down the offer of a beer from Cady, before? Ne-ver…

"We need to talk."

"Uh-oh. This sounds serious."

"Maybe. For me, not so much for you. Although…you will be impacted…"

"Okay…"

"I'm pregnant." She said it just as baldly to female Longmire Jr as to the man himself.

"Ohhhh." Cady's words came out in a whooossshh. "How did that happen?" Then she heard herself and turned pink. "I mean…aren't you on the pill?"

She shrugged. "A few weeks after Eamonn and I broke up, I was dead broke, so I ditched them and swore off men."

"Oh, right. I remember that. You haven't been on a date or drinking at the Pony in—months!"

"That's true."

"Yeah, the only night I remember you away anywhere was when you were working over at my—" Cady's eyes met hers and grew wide. "Oh, nooooo…." She exhaled, long. "Not,,,dad…"

"Yeah. Your dad, but it gets worse."

"How could that be worse? Dad, really?"

"Yeah, really. Problem is, he doesn't remember."

Her eyes grew even larger. "He doesn't remember…?"

"Do you think I'm memorable, Counselor Longmire? I mean, would you remember this face?" She struck a pose, made a face.

"Oh, Vic…"

"It is just more of the same in this existentially shitty year we've had…" She didn't go into Branch, it still hurt Cady to talk about him. She didn't go into the beatings, being thrust into the forefront while Walt wallowed in Barlow guilt at home. How their friendship had unraveled and finally dissolved. How they had pushed each other away, yes, now, she acknowledged she had participated in the debacle.

"I got a little drunk and just wasn't prepared it would go so far." She didn't go into how a drunken apology turned into the best night of her life, and probably the only one, from the way things were going. Cady didn't need to know any of that.

"Anyway, I'm looking at the trailers near the Rez, and going to try bartering for daycare after the baby is born." She sucked her breath in. "What that means is…I'm having him or her."

Then it hit her. Cady would know she was going to have a brother or sister before Walt would know. Triple fuck in a row of Sundays.

"Wow." While Walt had looked pole-axed, Cady looked all soft and sympathetic, not shocked like she'd expected. "I'm so…sorry, for how it is, but…congratulations? I'm just trying to figure it all out."

"Welcome to the club." She tried not to sound bitter. She wasn't, really. It was actually kinda, sorta, terrifyingly wonderful. Or could be. "I just have to figure it all out, too."

"Does Dad…know?"

"He knows I'm pregnant, but he seems clueless as to the dad's identity. I'm hoping eventually he will remember. He's a detective, let him figure it out himself." She paused. "Suffice it to say, he was drunk and depressed that night. Did you know Donna broke up with him? Or that the lawsuit has passed to a higher level? Or that he's terrified to hire another deputy?"

Cady looked uncomfortable. "He didn't share about that doctor, but yes, I know about the suit. I can't talk about it, because I work with one of the plaintiffs. But the deputy thing?"

"He hasn't had much luck with them this last year." Shit. She hadn't meant to refer to anything which involved Branch.

"Oh. Yeah. And now this."

Vic gave a long, audible sigh. "Yes, this. Fuck."

"And some," agreed Cady. "But for now…I endorse the tea, but how else can I help?"

She and Cady talked into the night about how to launch Operation Baby L.

XXX

Two months before

She woke abruptly, to the beloved silence broken by the sound of birds fluttering and chirping outside. A nest, maybe?

The bed was a mess, clothing strewn everywhere and the filtered pre-dawn grey flowing in through the windows. It had been very late when they'd finally succumbed to sleep, and he was still snoring peacefully. He might have a hangover whenever he woke, but at least it was a mercy he was getting some shut-eye.

She slid away from him, off the bed, remade her side of it, and plucked her clothing from the trail leading to the front room. Clothing in hand, she dressed quietly, washed her glass in the sink, put it away, and slunk out the door.

First things first.

Coffee, and then…more coffee.

In the car, she automatically went to put up her ponytail, but couldn't find the tie. She had been wearing it before…before…Shit. She wasn't going back in, no way. If it came up, she'd just say it fell out of her pocket.

So back to coffee and more coffee.

Her head wasn't so bad, but she felt like she could go back to sleep for a week, and she was on duty this morning. She made a mental note to move Walt's shift back to afternoon on the duty roster.

And sighed. She had no idea what would happen. Donna had ditched him, but was he ready, was she ready to take him on, after what they'd done to one another the past year?

The morning seemed interminable.

When he strode in just after lunch, cursory nods to everyone he just walked past and shut his office door with more force than necessary. She winced. That was not what she had expected at all.

When he did not call her in or speak to her for the next four hours, she became increasingly angry. He could at least acknowledge her, or apologize. Well, you could ask, for what? She had willingly participated, but it had crossed a line they had both kept as neutral, uncrossed territory for four years.

And now what? How did he feel? How would he react? Guilt, shame, pleasure?

The next hours, weeks, and months supplied her with her answer: nothing.

Nothing.

XXX

Four Months Later

Cady intercepted her as she carried another box out to the truck. Ferg and Zach were helping her move, wouldn't let her carry anything. She hadn't asked Walt, she'd been avoiding him for a while. It just hurt so much to be near him. Now that she was on desk duty, it was much easier to avoide him.

"Stop carrying stuff. We can do it."

"Fuck, it's not heavy. I won't hurt him, I promise."

In deference to beginning to show, was wearing—shudder—stretch maternity jeans and her uniform shirt untucked. It wasn't according to dress code, but she was in uncharted territory for Absaroka County. The voices behind the hands in Absaroka were not unexpected, but an unwelcome consequence. The poor department, with the lawsuit still wallowing along in legal limbo, and here she was, doing her best to tarnish it further.

She hugged Cady before she left.

"I can't believe he still can't remember, and you're letting him get by with it!"

She swallowed. "If it didn't mean anything to him then, it doesn't now." She didn't mean it to come out waspish, but the hormones were in full swing. Everyone at the office had backed off after some recent doozies had flown out of her mouth.

Carrying Walt's son, something had changed within her. A new attitude, surpassing the terror. Fuck them, if they couldn't take a joke. She was going to be one hell of a mother!

Only five months to go.

XXX

"Thanks for coming by, Eamonn."

"Oh, no problem, Walt, while we're cleaning house after Wilkins, I have nothing better to do." He grinned to let him know that was a joke

Walt wanted to grin back, but he couldn't. "You talked to Vic, lately?" He stood, his hands hooked in his pockets. He really wanted to hit Eamonn, but that would not be appropriate—yet—nor produce the desired information.

"Ah, no, not really, just a few case consults with her over the phone."

"You haven't seen her, I mean, like out of the office in the last four months or so?"

"No. Not at all. Why?"

He shook his head. "Not sure. Just thought I'd ask. So you two, you're not dating?"

"Whoa. Walt, we never "dated."

So he said it. Her words. "She said you slept together…had a sexual relationship."

Eamonn cleared his throat. "Ah. No dates, just the one night. That is, we haven't seen each other off-duty for what, seven, eight months now?"

"Oh." He was doing the math in his head, and knew that if that were the truth, Eamonn couldn't be the father. He'd been alternately terrified and resigned it was Eamonn, but it would at least have been closure. Now he'd have to figure out who she was really seeing. Someone she didn't want him to know about.

He'd had vivid dreams of her recently, and for the last few months. At first, he thought he'd felt guilty because of Donna, or even Martha, but the dreams had really taken over recently.

"Why all the Vic questions, Walt?"

"Oh, um, when you and she talk again, it will become clear."

"Okayyyy…."

"Sorry to bring you in for nothing, Eamonn."

"You worried about Vic?"

He shrugged. He really couldn't hide the concern. "Maybe. But thanks for coming in."

Eamonn jerked his head. "Okay. He rose, as Vic, shirt loose around her, threw open the door and strode in. When she stood hipshot with arms crossed, her shirt pulled tight around her belly.

"Hey. Eamonn. I heard you were visiting." Well, she sounded glad enough to see him.

"Hey yourself. Hey. Vic?" He challenged her to tell him.

"Yeah, knocked up, I know. Don't worry, it wasn't you. I would have called you."

"So who's the lucky guy?" Eamonn sounded like he was joking, or like he'd like to hit the guy as well.

She made a face. "Wouldn't you nosy menfolk like to know. Just let me be happy, okay?"

"Okay," said Eamonn, giving up.

From behind his desk, Walt felt himself glowering. He didn't want to give up.

XXX

One month ago

Lunch with Cady was going well. Then out of the blue she had to ask that question.

"So, are you and the doctor still dating?"

He used his fork to play with Dorothy's Cobb salad, and took a swig of iced tea. He had been trying to eat better, thinking that might make the dreams less pervasive. He had to change his sheets every couple of nights, now. It seemed like he had no control, and all he could see was Vic. Not Donna, not Martha, but Vic.

"No. I didn't know you knew about her. Broke up about three months ago.

"Oh. About the time Vic came out to the cabin to discuss a case?"

He thought back, remembered getting out the Pappy's, the rest of the evening disintegrating into a blur before fading to black.

"Yeah, I was a little preoccupied that night."

"Sorry about you and the doctor. Next time, you might consider introducing me to your girlfriend. You have a history of not."

"Lizzie wasn't my girlfriend. She thought she was."

"But Donna was?"

"Yeah, I asked her out, so, yes, I guess technically she was, but it didn't last long."

"Why did you break up?"

"She didn't like how I handled myself. She didn't like the country, or the cabin. She wanted…more than I could give. We just…didn't get along."

Cady sighed. "Okay, so it wasn't a great love tragedy then?"

He stilled. "No…"

"Did it happen because you really wanted to date Vic? I think she thought you wanted to, after the divorce."

He looked up suddenly. "Did she say something?"

Cady shook her head. "Not so much, only that she was very surprised you were dating the doctor."

"Hmmmph." How could he tell Cady, 'My department is under fire, and she was screwing someone else. I wanted to get laid, but my partner had changed her mind, so I looked somewhere else.' That was the problem. He couldn't.

"Dad? Are you in there somewhere?"

"Hmmmph." He couldn't say any of that, not to Cady, really.

"Are you going to start dating again?"

"That's personal, Cady."

"Dad."

"I don't…"

"What about Vic? She could use a friend about now, don't you think?"

"She's having some guy's baby. Some guy who's not in her life anymore, maybe never was." He couldn't help himself, the words came out like a growl.

"Even more reason to, then. I'm pretty sure she still likes you."

"Hmmmph."

"Just think about it, all right?"

But the time just never seemed to present itself, although he offered help again if she needed it. Maybe uncomfortable with his offer, he noticed Vic started avoiding him.

And the dreams intensified.