Title: Fruit of the Poisonous Berry
Fandom: Longmire
Characters: Vic Moretti, Walt Longmire, Cady Longmire, Ferg, Ruby
Category: Romance, Angst, Drama, Holiday
Rating: M
Word count: ~ 10,000
Summary: What will happen when The Ferg decides some Christmas decorations are in order and Walt and Vic end up under the mistletoe? Post-Season 4 Fix-It. Fic.
Spoilers/Timeline: Post Season 4
Author's Note: Written to the soundtrack of Clare Dunn's "Move On" and "Tuxedo" and Ellie Goulding's "How Long Will I Love You."

The full moon glinted sharp and bright against the darkness as Vic guided her truck down the dirt road that led to Walt's cabin. She drove faster than was safe, sliding around a corner here and hitting the gas to push through there. The three quarter ton truck was responsive and despite the temperature hovering just above zero, there was was no snow or ice to make conditions really dangerous. Vic was grateful. She didn't think she could have taken this drive slow and careful.

When she finally reached Walt's cabin, Vic turned the truck off and sat for a minute, flexing her fingers against the cold and her nerves. She bunched them into a tight ball and blew warm air into them. She had lived here for years and she still couldn't remember to grab her fucking gloves on the way out to the door.

Vic was stalling and she knew it. She hadn't been out to Walt's cabin since… that day. It looked nothing like it did now with the moon throwing long, deep shadows across the porch. It was a sharp contrast to the bright sunlight and relentless heat of that day. Now the only light was a faint glow coming through both windows. Maybe from the fire in the fireplace? It didn't look quite right though. Maybe Walt was still up? He would have heard her truck and come to the door if he was. It was part of the job. But that meant she had to get out of the truck or tuck her tail between her legs and go back to Cady's place without getting the answers she had come for. She could take a moment to decide or… Vic shoved open the door. Time to stop being a fucking coward. It wasn't a good look on her anyway.

As she climbed the steps to the porch, Vic gave the second step a little kick and wondered if the stain from Barlow's blood was still there. Now, in the dark, she couldn't tell. She had seen it when it was fresh and something about it had made her want to rip it out. But she knew shit about carpentry and after that she had been too busy running Walt's department to think about it. The last time she had been out there she'd been a little too busy trying to keep her boss from dying to look. Maybe someday she'd have a chance to satisfy her curiosity, but Vic didn't think it would be tonight.

Stopping in front of the front door, Vic balled her hand into a fist and pounded. She had always thought they should at least have a day course on that knock at the Academy but it had never materialized. She had added it to her exit evaluation suggestion though. Vic could just imagine the rolled eyes that had gotten from the Academy Director. There were no sounds from inside so Vic raised her hand to pound on the door again. Walt's Bronco had been parked out front so she knew he was in there.

Another moment of pounding and then Vic heard movement inside. Instinctively she took a step back as the sounds neared the door. She wasn't surprised when the door was yanked up and she was greeted by Walt with rifle in hand. Vic knew he kept it by the door. There was a frozen moment when she took in the long sleeve shirt and sweatpants that hung low on his hips. It was such an un-Walt look that it threw her for a moment until her hand clenched and the crinkle of cardboard under her fingers reminded her of why she was here.

Vic slapped the box against his chest and demanded, "What the hell is this?"

Startled Walt fumbled to grab the falling box as Vic shoved her hands back into her coat pockets and rocked back and forth from foot to foot. She really wasn't dressed for this conversation. "What? Vic?" A crease ran down one side of his face and Vic knew she had woken him. His brain still wasn't functioning. "Get in here," he said, putting the rifle down and reaching out to take her arm above the elbow to draw her into the cabin.

Vic jerked her arm away from his touch, but stepped into the cabin. If she had really come here for answers then she needed to give him a chance to speak and it was too fucking cold on the porch for that. Vic tried her best not to look around. She didn't need the memories.

Walt muttered something about having a seat and turned away from her to tend the fire, taking a few of the dried, stacked logs from beside the fire and adding them to the coals. He grabbed a non-descript grey blanket from the back of a chair and threw it around his shoulders, then scooped a markedly softer and more brightly patterned one off the back of couch and held it out to Vic. "It'll warm up in here in a minute," he said, with a half-hearted shrug. "Until then…" When she didn't reach out to take it, he added. "It's Cady. I mean she uses it when she comes out here."

Vic knew why he had clarified. Apparently he didn't want her to think it belonged to the good Doctor, but she wasn't sure it was any better that it was Cady's. Still it was damn cold and it looked soft. She took it and wrapped it around her shoulders, then waited. She had asked the damn question. He could answer it.

Instead Walt rubbed the back of his head with one hand and turned away from her, taking a few short steps in the confines of the living room. "I, ah, see you got my gift." He had gone to collect it from the small table beside the couch from where he had laid it down when he went to stoke the fire.

"Yep," Vic said, making sure to pop the 'P' in her annoyance. Monosyllabic answers were only fair play. Turnabout and all that.

Walt lifted the box a little toward her like he was going hold the invitation out for her to take again. "I wanted to take my intentions clear."

Vic bit her lip and cocked her head. "Well, you didn't. I have no fucking clue what that invitation is supposed to mean."

Walt sank down to a seat on the edge of the couch and reached out blindly to put the box down beside him, then looked up at her. For the first time, Vic realized the blank expression on his face wasn't lack of caring, it was terror. The chill that had settled over her, the blind irritation at his mixed messages that had washed over her from the moment she had read his invitation faded. Her hurt receded and she saw the cabin for the first time. A scattering of garland hung above the windows and a Christmas tree glowed with small golden lights in the corner. The decorations were sparse, but there were a few ornaments on the tree. Several looked handmade and inexpertly so. Vic would have been willing to bet they were things Cady had made as a child. It was more than a little shocking to see the place like this. Vic would have bet any amount of money, Walt wouldn't have wasted the time to decorate - and, apparently, she would have lost. It changed the look of things enough that Vic could glance around without that sick feeling returning to her stomach. It was enough that Vic could breathe again.

"Just tell me what you meant, Walt." She crouched down in front of the couch so that they were at eye level. She lifted the box. "I really don't know what this means and I can't…" Her hand trembled and she dropped it back to the couch as if it had burned and clenched her hand into a fist to hide the tremors. "I can't keep taking chances and getting shot down."

Walt's hand covered her own, his eyes flicking to hers seeing if she would pull away from him again. Every muscle in her body tensed, but Vic remained still and let him touch her. After a long moment, his thumb stroked across her wrist. A shiver ran down Vic's spine and she almost broke at the familiar gesture. He had touched her in the same way that day in the emergency room after the disaster at Chance's compound. Then that simple touch had been meant to tell her everything was okay; she could relax finally. He was there. Now… Vic had no idea.

"Talk to me," Vic said, hating how her voice broke and the tears that stung at her eye. She had sworn she wouldn't cry over him again. Wouldn't do this shit over a man any more.

"I love you." The words, bald and without preamble hung between them.

Startled, Vic lost her balance, landing on her butt on the dusty wooden floor. "Shit, Walt."

His other hand clasped her arm behind her elbow and with a two handed grip he tugged her up and onto the couch behind him. "I'm sorry." He wouldn't meet her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Vic said, brushing aside his concern. "What?"

"I love you," Walt repeated. "I don't want you out of my life." The warmth of his hands on her arm was incredibly distracting but Vic did her best to focus. "I know I haven't treated you…" He shook his head. "I never made you any promises, Vic, but what I did, it wasn't right. And when you saw, I couldn't even look at you. I don't know how you can stand to look at me."

"Hey," Vic said, raising a hand to touch his cheek and then letting her hand fall away again, still worried, despite his words, that it might be more than she could handle. "I couldn't." A small, bitter smile quirked onto her lips as his head jerked up to look at her. "Not for a long time. It fucking hurt, Walt."

"But you stayed," Walt said. "You didn't leave."

Vic grimaced and looked away. "The thought occurred to me." She shrugged. "But I've kind of gotten used to the way we do things out here. I mean, I hate this state most of the time. Winter sucks and the people…" she shook her head. "But there's something about it."

Walt nodded. "It gets inside you." He took a deep breath. "I was hoping you stayed for me too."

"You know I did," Vic said, shooting him a look. She hadn't given Australia or making things right with Sean a second thought from the moment he had asked her to stay. Signing her divorce papers had been the easiest thing she had done in a long time.

"I… hoped," Walt said, choosing his words carefully. "I couldn't quite believe it."

"Believe it, dumbass," Vic said without the slightest change of inflection.

"Okay," Walt said, a smile beginning to form at the corner of his lips. It was a good look on him, Vic decided. One she wouldn't mind seeing more often. His thumb was stroking over her upper arm now. He couldn't seem to hold still when he was touching her, but his touch was soothing. Even if every nerve in her body was standing on end right now. "The invitation…" he tipped his head toward the box. "I know I didn't go about things the right way the other day. I wasn't thinking clearly. I wasn't thinking about you. Again. I lost my head when I touched you and I couldn't think about anything else." He met her eyes. "It's not an excuse. Just an explanation." He raised his hand to touch her cheek. "I know what I said, but I don't want you to think I'm ashamed of you or scared of you. There are lots of things that scare me," he grinned as if in acknowledgement of how at odds it was with his usual image. "But you aren't one of them. You've always been there for me." He hesitated. "I haven't always done that for you though. I want to change that. You said you want to stop feeling like you have to hold back. You want to live. I'd like to do that with you, if you'd allow."

Vic could honestly say that out of all the things she had thought the night might bring, Walt's confession wasn't among them. "I don't know what to say. Walt." She could feel the burn of tears in her eyes growing and she looked down to swipe at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"It's okay," he said, his voice rough. "You don't have to say anything. You can think on it. I know it's a lot to ask." His hand brushed across her cheek one last time and then dropped away. "I'll be here."

The lost of his touch was a gaping absence, a sucker punch to the gut. Vic reached out blindly and caught his wrist, her fingers pressing in too hard. "Don't."

Walt froze. "Don't, what?"

Vic stared up at him and blinked. "Hold me?" She needed the solidity of his presence to believe this. If she left now...she had no idea what to think. She needed him to give her a moment and just… be there with her.

Without a word, Walt scooted back on the couch and held a hand out to her. Vic took it and turned to fold herself into him. She laid her head against his shoulder and breathed in the scent of his neck. His arms wrapped around her, drawing her into him, and Vic couldn't help it, sucking in a long shuddery breath and then another until the tears ran down her cheeks. She buried her face in his neck, squeezing her eyes shut tight, and tried to focus on the way his large, rough hand stroked up and down her back in a soothing motion.

Vic didn't know how long they had sat there before she raised her head. Her tears had dried on her cheeks and she was sure she looked lovely. Walt was looking down at her, watching her, but without any expectation in his eyes. Vic raised her hand to cup his cheek, bent his head down toward her and touched her lips to his. His arm curled tight around her waist as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, capturing her lips between his and drawing back. Vic nipped at his bottom lip and grinned as he pressed his lips to hers again, never easing the hold he had on her. It was a messy kiss, broken by her grin, but none the worse for it.

Her hand left his cheek and stroked down Walt's chest, finding the "v" of skin bared by his shirt. Walt covered her hand with his, holding her there and nuzzled her cheek. Stubble rasped against her skin and Vic knew she would pay for it in the morning, but at the moment, she didn't care. She shifted, using the hand she had on his chest to push herself up until she was straddling his thigh and looking directly into his eyes. He smiled quick and tentative, uncertainty still lingering in his eyes, and Vic kissed him again. She wanted to erase that look. Her hands dropped lower searching for the buckle of his belt. She snorted against his lips when she felt the soft thin material of his sweatpants instead.

The back of Vic's fingers grazed over his erection and he jerked at the sudden sensation. "Hello, Cowboy," Vic drawled against his lips. "You seem happy to see me." She drew back, a teasing grin on her lips. "Or is that just-"

Walt squeezed her hips, gripping her with both hands now to steady her - and himself. "I'm always happy to see you."

Vic's eyebrows shot up. "Always?"

"You'd be surprised," Walt muttered, ducking her head to press his lips against the side of her neck. She could feel the rush of heat in his cheeks against her skin. Knowing she could effect him like that made Vic's toes curl. She slipped her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck and held him to her as her other hand stroked back up the hard length of him and then dipped beneath the waist of his sweatpants to take him in her hand.

Walt groaned, his forehead pressing into her shoulder. "Be careful with that," he murmured through gritted teeth. "It might go off."

Vic laughed into his ear and ducked her head in an attempt to catch his gaze. "Don't worry," she said as she stroked him. "I know how to handle live weaponry."

Walt let out a strangled laugh and sagged back against couch, pulling her with him. "You do." He shook his head and opened his eyes. His hands tugged at the open edges of her jacket, then rose to push it back off her shoulders beneath the blanket. She let go of him for a minute to shrug out of the jacket, but was glad when he pulled the blanket back up around her. The fire was warm at Vic's back, but a chill still clung to the room. His hands slipped under the thermal shirt she wore beneath her duty shirt. Vic's breath hitched, but at the touch of his hands and at the twinge of worry that shot through her when she considered how he might react to the reminder that she worked for him.

"You gonna take that off?" Walt asked with a jerk of his chin toward her. He couldn't seem to resist and followed this motion by leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the line of her jaw. "You don't have to," he murmured against her skin. "But I want to see you."

Vic started undoing buttons with a speed she couldn't ever remember duplicating, not caring if they came undone or tore off so long as she could get it off. There was a brief tangle of fabric when she tried to tug her undershirt off before her duty shirt was completely gone, but a moment later she was free of both of them and Walt's hands were gliding up her sides. The back of his fingers brushed against the words inked into her skin just below the line of her ribs, then brushed over the swell of her breast. Her nipples were visible even through her bra. Walt pressed his lips to the newly bared skin even as his fingers worked at the clasp behind her back. Vic fidgeted, thrusting her chest forward and was just about to twist around to help him undo it when it came free. He tugged the offending garment off her and let it drop beside him on the couch as he took her in.

"Beautiful," Walt said, as he cupped her breasts in his hands and squeezed. When she squirmed in his lap, he did it again and ran his thumbs over her pert nipples. Vic groaned at the sensation as Walt bent to take one into his mouth. Her back arched at the warm, wetness of his tongue as it contrasted with scratch of his stubble across sensitive skin. His hand slid around to the small of her back to hold her up even as his other hand fumbled for the button of her jeans. His teeth scraped against her nipple to be soothed away by his tongue an instant later as he tugged her zipper down and got his fingers beneath the band of her underwear. Then his hand was cupping her, his fingers stroking through her warm wetness and Vic whimpered, biting her lip to hold back the sounds that wanted to come spilling out. Then one finger and another sank inside of her and Vic gasped, shifting her weight to the side to give him better access.

"Walt," she cried, her voice breaking over his name. Her hands clenched on his shoulders to hold herself up, to cope with the sensations he was drawing from her body. Her back arched as his fingers pushed up inside her and then hissed as they withdrew. She lurched forward and sank her teeth into his shoulder, needing something to cope with the way he was making her feel. Vic didn't beg, but, "Please," she hissed, squeezing tighter and urging him forward, not caring how she sounded right now. "I need you."

Walt tensed and for one heart stopping instant, Vic thought she had said the wrong thing. Then Walt sat back, lifting his hips enough to shove his sweatpants down, taking boxers with them. His erection sprang up free between them. Vic couldn't resist stroking up the length of him again, catching the bead of pre-cum on her finger. Walt grunted and tugged her closer. His hands on her hips lifted her up and Vic cooperated eagerly until she was settled over him.

"Look at me," Walt said, taking himself in one hand as she began to sink down onto him.

"Fuck," Vic swore, but did as he asked. The connection between them was electric and she couldn't have looked away as she wanted to as she settled onto him. He was thick and hard and filled her deliciously, so full that she couldn't stay still, squirming against him. His hips moved against hers and then the squirming settled into a rhythm, her clit pressing against him as he sank into her.

Vic didn't try to hold back as their motions grew more frantic. Her whole body was flushed with the heat of them and she had the urge to throw the blanket off, but not the concentration for it as a symphony of feeling began to grow within her. Her muscles screamed and everything ached until it didn't and Walt was pushing her over the edge. Vic cried out and Walt fucked her through it with short, hard jerks that kept her coming long after the initial wave until he followed after her.

Walt stretched to kiss the top of her head and tugged the blankets up higher around them. Vic opened her eyes and squinted against the dull morning light that had begun to seep in through the windows. She curled her arms more tightly around him and refused to lift her head. His heart beat steadily beneath her ear.

"I have to get ready for work soon," Walt said, breaking the silence at last.

"Yeah," Vic agreed. She had known it was coming. She knew the schedule as well as she did, nearly memorizing it for the past week in an attempt to avoid him. All that had backfired now.

"You can stay here if you like," Walt murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

Vic considered it for a moment, weighing the warmth of where they had lain against the questions Cady would surely ask when she got home about where she had been and the effort of getting up to go there. And then there were the ghosts that still lurked around the cabin, the unquiet shades of the other women in Walt's life. If she lingered there without him would they rise up against her in her mind? She didn't want that sick feeling to return, or some worse thought she wasn't ready to face yet. Better not to risk it. "Another time," she whispered.

Walt was silent and Vic wondered what he was thinking, but didn't press. She knew moments like last night's confession would be rare. His hand ran over her hip and settled at the small of her back. Vic decided she liked the weight of it and lifted her head to rest her chin on his chest and look up at him. He tucked a strand of behind her ear and smiled. "What about tonight? Will you go out with me?" He sat up a little, almost dislodging her, and glanced around. "I think I still have an invitation around here somewhere."

"No," Vic said, pushing herself up as Walt sank back into the cushions. She curled her fingers around his shoulders and refused to let go. "I'd rather stay in tonight." She grinned as she tilted her head and leaned in to capture his lips. "Raincheck?"

(4/4)

Many, many thanks to everyone who's responded to this story! The response has been amazing from this community and I really appreciate the warm welcome. It's been a crazy day and I'm beat but I'll respond to all the lovely pm's I've gotten tomorrow. I hope you all enjoy this last part. As ever I was a bit nervous, but I hope it works.