Yay story time! I keep saying I'm going to take a break and then I come up with another idea so just ignore me when I say that from now on. I'm not sure how long this will be yet. Three or four chapters, possibly? I've read many great fics about this villain but I hope this story will have a little something different. :) Thanks for reading!

"You're such a liar."

"Categorically untrue," Walter replied, pulling a stack of plates out of a cabinet and sliding them over to Paige. "Geniuses like facts. We abhor dishonesty. Ask Ralph."

"And yet you have frosting on your hands," the liaison chuckled, crossing her arms in front of her chest and raising her eyebrow teasingly.

Walter blushed and grabbed a napkin, wiping the telltale icing off his palm. "Fine. I had one of the cupcakes. But I hadn't eaten in…" he counted on his fingers, "twelve hours, and I doubt that Ralph's bake sale will suffer catastrophically from one missing item."

"You're paying me for that cupcake," she insisted, pointing at him as she walked out of the kitchen with the plates. "It's going toward Ralph's astronomy club."

The genius followed her, folding the cloth napkins haphazardly on the table as she arranged the plates at each setting. "As long as it's not benefitting…" His face twisted into a grimace. "Sports."

"I can wholeheartedly assure you that these cupcakes will not benefit children's physical health in any way." Paige glanced down at her watch and let out a sigh. "I've got to pick up Ralph from the Morrison's. Can you make sure the drinks are cold?"

Walter could think of a thousand better uses of his time than loading bottles of soda and wine into the fridge—or a sit-down dinner in general—but when it came to Paige, the answer never seemed to be anything other than, "Sure."

"I will never move again," Toby groaned, slumping down into his seat and rubbing his hand over his stomach. Happy, unable to resist the temptation, slapped him and laughed hysterically as he launched forward, looking like he might be sick. "That was poor planning, Happy Quinn. If I return this chicken parmesan back into the world, you're all going to be suffering with me."

"Oh, are we not suffering right now?" she quipped, staring at him with innocent eyes.

"I'm going to get you for—oof." The shrink leaned back again, the exertion required to tickle her causing an unpleasant sensation in his appendix. "Later. I'll get you later."

Happy tossed her napkin at him. "Pretty sure you've been saying that for years."

"And that'll make my ultimate revenge much sweeter," Toby insisted, wrapping his arm around the back of her chair—the closest form of physical contact she permitted him in front of the team. "Just wait until—."

"Toby, shut up," Walter snapped, but the tone of his voice hinted at discomfort more than anger. The psychologist dropped his arm and he and Happy shifted their chairs away from each other.

"I, for one, am glad you guys are happy," Paige said, grinning at them before shooting Walter a dirty look. The genius caught it and withered under her disapproving gaze. "Life is short, and it may be shorter for us, so…you shouldn't waste any time hiding."

Toby opened his mouth to comment on the obvious intention of her remark—it was obvious to the team, at least, if not to the two people concerned—but Happy kicked him under the table and he bit his tongue.

Brushing aside the awkward silence, Paige stood up quickly and gathered the plates, stacking the used utensils on top. Walter instinctively moved to help her, but she pushed on his shoulder to lower him back into the chair. "I have a surprise. Everyone wait here."

"It's a good thing we've got knives to cut all this tension with," Cabe muttered to Toby before taking a swig of his beer.

Paige arrived a moment later with a chocolate cake in her hands, illuminated by the flames of six blue candles. Happy helped to support the base as Paige lowered it onto the table, grinning proudly.

"What is this?" Walter asked, staring at it curiously.

"The sixth anniversary of Scorpion," she announced, dropping another stack of fresh plates and silverware next to it. "Walter told me this was the day he officially registered the company. It seemed like something we should celebrate." The geniuses stared at her blankly until her smile dissolved. "What's wrong?"

"It's great," Walter insisted. "It's just that, uh…" He glanced at the others for approval and they nodded, knowing exactly what he intended to say. "Scorpion wasn't really Scorpion until Ralph and…you." His eyes flicked up to hers. "So it's more like two years."

Paige cleared her throat, embarrassed by the sudden wave of emotion that washed over her. She looked over to her son at the end of the table, choking up even more as she saw him beaming. "Thank you, guys."

Afraid she might actually break into tears, the liaison shook her head and handed Happy the cake server, smirking as the mechanic made the world's most exact knife cuts. She circled the table and dropped back into her seat next to Walter, discreetly using her sleeve to clear her eyes.

"Ninety-six days," the genius muttered under his breath.

Paige released a soft laugh. "What?"

"I said two years," Walter answered more clearly, but still in a voice only meant for her. "But it was actually two years and ninety-six days."

"Oh." She cursed herself as the tears welled up again. That kind of knowledge was the cornerstone of the geniuses' minds—they could and did recite facts like that in their sleep—but sometimes it betrayed an extraordinary level of acceptance and loyalty that no expected them to be capable of, least of all themselves. "Best two years and ninety-six days of my life."

Paige's smile widened as Walter looked up at her through dark eyelashes. "I, um—."

"Happy!" The shout was punctuated by a sharp clatter as the cake server made contact with the metal stand, and Toby shot up from his chair, drawing the attention of the group as he hovered over her body. He lifted her eyelids to examine her pupils. "She's unconscious. Paige, call 911."

The liaison reached into her pocket for her phone, but her hand felt like lead. She commanded her fingers to stretch out as the heaviness spread rapidly through her arms and into the rest of her body, blurring her vision and making her head ache. Paige was vaguely aware of Walter's hand on her face, his voice distant and cloaked, her own name sounding strangely unfamiliar. She felt his arms wrap around her as she slipped off of her chair, and then it was over.

When was the last time she'd been this hungover? Never, that she could remember, not even after her wildest nights in college. Paige blinked, the sliver of light that fell at her feet appearing vastly harsher as her head pounded. A low beeping faded into her senses—her alarm clock, most likely—and she reached instinctively to shut it off, her disorientation compounded when her wrist hit a hard, cold surface.

"Paige." A deep voice pierced through the noise, drawn by the clinking of metal. Walter…it was…did they? "Paige, are you okay?"

She forced her eyes opened, wincing at pain like a spike through her mind. He was a few feet away from her, but everything was still blurry. They were…standing? Hanging. They were hanging…

"Walter!" she gasped, the reality of their situation hitting her abruptly and sending her into a panic. Paige yanked down on the chains, trying to reach him, but the effort made her dizzy and she bit down hard on her lip to contain the nausea.

"Don't move, Paige." Walter's calm tone brought her back from the edge and she relaxed her arms as best as she could, squirming as her toes grazed against the ground. "Save your energy. We'll figure this out."

Paige tried to ask if he was hurt, but the words caught in her raspy throat. She coached herself to focus on breathing, knowing that she would be of no use unless she could channel her adrenaline and focus. She was grateful as her heartbeat slowed and her sight began to clear, allowing her to examine their surroundings. The room was empty except for the two of them, and Walter hung from the ceiling by thick chains, a position that all of her senses confirmed she shared. There were no windows, so it wasn't natural light illuminating the room. She blinked again as she inadvertently looked into the single light embedded in the ceiling.

"Where are we?" she whispered, her voice too weak to reach normal volume. There was no doubt he had already observed everything she'd seen and more, but no conclusions formed in her mind. The genius twisted his body as far sideways as he could to face her, cringing as he rubbed his wrists raw. "Stop, Walter, you're hurting yourself."

He looked at her with as much amusement as he could muster and reluctantly complied, sinking back into his restraints. "We're underground. Forty feet, judging by the density of the air. How do you feel?"

"Uncomfortable," Paige admitted, pushing through the wooziness to sort out her memories. "The party. Happy and I…"

"You two were the lightest and the first to lapse into unconsciousness. Then Toby, and then me."

"Ralph?"

Her son's name fell out of her mouth, small and fearful. Walter's expression hinted that he wanted to comfort her, but without concrete information, he could only shrug in defeat. "I don't know."

"Ralph," she said weakly, feeling every ounce of her strength flow out of her body. If they were sedated by something in their dinner, her son had to have been affected. Her stomach tightened in sickening knots as she wondered if he was safe, what he was thinking, if he was calling for her…

"The team will take care of him," Walter said earnestly, mercifully interrupting her train of thought. "They won't let anything happen."

"Are they safe?"

Another look of helplessness from a man who was so rarely helpless. Rather than repeat what she already knew, he nodded to her chains and said, "We're going to get out of here, and we will find them. I promise."

Paige pressed her lips together, swallowing the substantial lump in her throat. "Okay."

"Okay." Walter wriggled his arms, twisting them at various angles to find the weakest point in the cuffs. "These are solid. Brand new, there's no wear in them."

"We must be special," she joked weakly, attempting to conceal her nerves. Walter could think infinitely better if he didn't need to worry about steering the liaison away from a breakdown. He offered her a crooked grin.

"I just need to—." The genius inhaled sharply and jolted, cursing to himself. Paige moved to grab him, frustrated that he was just out of her reach. "Something stabbed me," he explained, answering her unasked question. "A sharp edge. Must be a feature of the cuffs."

Something stabbed you? That's the best you've got?

Walter's eyes widened. Paige noticed the change in his demeanor and leaned forward, concern flooding her features. "What is it?"

You used to be much smarter, Walter. I keep telling you that, but maybe now you'll finally see it for yourself.

A voice. The voice. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what, Walter?" When he didn't respond, she pushed against the restraints and snapped, "What do you hear?"

"Collins," he whispered. "He's in my head."

Damn right I am, Walter. Just like I've been for the past five years now. You've never been able to push me out.

A sharp burst of static erupted in his eardrum, and Walter nearly jumped out of his skin. "It's a comm," Paige said in disbelief, rattling her cuffs to draw his attention. "He's not in your head, Walter, he's on a comm!"

Look at that, Nancy Drew might not be entirely worthless after all.

The genius tensed, simultaneously relieved that he wasn't in the middle of a psychological episode and horrified at the realization that Collins was real. Collins had kidnapped him and…

He met Paige's gaze, uneasiness pooling into his chest as he studied her. The woman who had replaced Collins and changed Walter fundamentally. Mark saw her as both unworthy and a threat, became obsessed with her role on the team, wanted nothing more than to defeat her and reclaim his place.

"She's not your enemy, Collins, I am," he announced, ignoring the questioning stares from the liaison. "Let her go."

"I don't consider either of you enemies, per se," Mark said smoothly on the other end. "I'm more interested in proving a point."

"If you're going to kill us, then get on with it," Walter growled.

Paige clenched her fists, frustrated at hearing only one side of the conversation, but Walter stayed quiet, refusing to grant Collins any more influence over her than he'd already achieved.

"It's actually going to be a great deal more fun than that. See, killing you would mean wasting one of the greatest minds in existence. On the other hand, killing Ms. Dineen would turn her into a martyr, thus ensuring that you never see the truth." Mark let out a low whistle and enunciated his next words, determined for Walter to hear every one clearly. "I don't have to kill Paige. Because she's going to betray you."