Title: Hot Head and Cold Feet

Summary: Waige is having a heat wave. This is a little idea that came into my head as I'm suffering through the first heat wave of the summer.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own /scorpion . This story is for entertainment purposes only. I make no profit and no infringement of copyrights is intended.

Chapter 1

Paige dropped her shoulder bag on the desk and waved a quick hello to Sylvester before heading for the stairs.

"Paige!" the mathematical genius called as he stood and rushed around his desk to follow her. The liaison stopped and turned. The look of annoyance on her face caused Sly to stop abruptly, nearly losing his balance. "Walter…uh…" he began nervously, "Walter just went up there to shower. He said he needed to do that before you got here."

Paige sighed and dropped her arm, which she'd been holding up high to keep the outfit she carried from touching the ground. Sly swept in and quickly took the garments from her, before they could contact the always slightly dirty garage floor. The building was so old that even a Roomba running 24/7 couldn't keep up with the dust and dirt that seemed to fall perpetually from the ceiling or blow in every time someone opened a door.

"Thanks, Sly," Paige responded in a tired, but grateful voice. "I suppose I can't fault him for wanting to use his own facilities, but I was really looking forward to a shower of my own!"

"I'm…I'm sure he'll be down in just a minute," Sly assured her as he took the clothing and hung it from a nail that jutted out from one of the support columns. "Why don't you… why don't you sit down while you wait and I'll get you a nice, cold drink?"

"Oh, thanks, Sly. If I can't have a cold shower a cold drink will be the next best thing. Although I may just dump it over my head."

"Still no luck with the A/C repair?"

"No." Paige took the water bottle from Sly and immediately lay the chilly plastic against her neck. "And of course this has to happen during the worst heat wave to hit L.A. in years. I'm just glad Ralph is visiting his dad this week. If he were here I think I'd have to get us a hotel."

"Are you sure you don't want me to take a look?" Walter asked as he came down the stairs, his still damp curls hanging limply above his collar. A few drops dampened the dark cotton of his shirt. "Air Conditioner technology is not very complex. I'm sure I could find the problem and fix it for you."

Paige stood and grabbed her clothing from where Sly hung it. She paused just a moment on her way to the stairs to briefly plant a peck on her boyfriend. "Thank you, I appreciate the offer; and I know you could probably fix it. But if I let anyone so much as breathe on the unit, it voids my homeowner's warranty. I don't want to have to come to you guys for everything that goes wrong." She then made her way swiftly up the stairs to use Walter's shower.

Walter got a cup of coffee and made his way to his desk. The genius usually preferred to enjoy his first cup in the quiet of his upstairs home while he spent an hour working on his private projects. But Paige's condo had been without air conditioning for three nights now. She came to the garage dressed in light shorts and a tank top and carrying her clothing so that, as she put it, she would not be "dripping sweat and staining her good clothes" before she even left home. She would then shower and change in Walter's loft while he began his day downstairs instead.

Walter was surprised at his own reaction to her appearance that first morning. She was wearing a pair of cutoff shorts that had bits of torn threads hanging down and brushing the tops of her thighs. The thin tank top she wore clung snugly to the outline of her breasts. While not soaked, the top was, indeed, very damp and it was quite clear that she wore nothing at all underneath the thin knit.

After Paige explained her appearance, begged to use his shower and proceeded up the stairs, Walter went to the rest room to adjust his trousers. The mere sight of her hadn't aroused him fully, but it was enough to make him uncomfortable. He remained in the rest room for several minutes until the problem subsided of its own accord. He'd resorted to reciting the periodic table to avoid the image of Paige reappearing in his head.

"Walter?" Sly approached him, thankfully distracting him from the memory of that image before the issue repeated itself.

"Walter!" Sly repeated, inexplicably jerking his head in the direction of the stairs.

"What?" Walter asked. "Does Paige need something? I didn't hear her call down. Does she need towels?"

"No!" his brother urged in a stage whisper. "She needs your help with her air conditioning problem!"

Walter stared back quizzically. "I don't know how I can help her. She's refused to let me fix the unit because of her concern about breaking the terms of her insurance policy. I could sneak over there and fix it anyway, but I doubt she would appreciate that."

Sylvester moved to sit in a chair next to Walter's desk, and leaned over to continue in an even lower whisper. "Can't you think of some other way to help? At least until her A/C is working again?" It was obvious the man was trying to drop a broad hint, but Walter was not picking up.

"I have no idea what you're trying to get at, Sly. If I cannot fix her A/C, what else can I possibly do?"

Walter turned back to examine the code on his laptop screen. He really wasn't looking at it though. He was wondering what it was that Sly wanted him to do for Paige and why he had no idea what it might be. Granted, his brother-in-law – his brother – had been married. But the marriage was fleetingly short. As always, the thought of his sister's shortened life gave Walter a moment of sadness, although more frequently now he was able to quickly refocus his thoughts on her amazing ability to conjure happiness out of every moment that was granted to her. She'd bestowed that happiness on Sly, as well. Walter understood that better now.

The younger man sighed dramatically, then leaned in closer. "You could invite her to stay here, where it's cool," he suggested. "She probably isn't getting any sleep at all at her place."

Walter twisted back to face the other man. "She won't get any sleep here, either. I don't have a guest room."

"A g..guest…" Sly stuttered. "But you're…you two…aren't you?"

Walter glared at his friend a moment, but then softened. He supposed it was a reasonable assumption.

Nearly four months had passed since Walter found Paige in Lake Tahoe. He'd driven through the night, arriving at four o'clock in the morning. It took all his willpower not to ignore the early hour and pound on their hotel door, but some part of him – some part that apparently had a touch of functioning EQ – realized Paige would not be pleased at the scene that would create. Instead he'd waited outside the front door of the hotel, until the two came out just before nine. Exhausted and sleep deprived, he'd stumbled out of his car, walked up to the pair and immediately blurted, "Paige, I love you. I've been an idiot. Please come home with me?"

Their response was beyond the last thing he expected.

"Ha, ha!" Tim chortled, nearly doubling over, then extended a hand, palm up, towards Paige.

Paige starred a moment at Walter, then turned to look at Tim, then down at his hand, then back up at Walter. Finally, she pulled the purse out of her bag, took out a twenty dollar bill and slapped it into the Navy Seal's palm.

"I hope you're happy!" she exclaimed, although to this day Walter wasn't sure whom she was addressing. She'd stomped off, without any explanation.

"You better go after her," Tim advised, pocketing the money. "She's not mad at you, she's just sore she lost our bet. I'm sure if you catch her… and maybe tell her again… she'll be in your arms before you can say Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

Walter turned back to look at the man he'd practically thrown at the love of his life. "Super… what?"

"Never mind," Tim insisted, gripping Walter's shoulders and turning him around. "GO. AFTER. HER."

Tim gave Walter a little shove and Walter took a jerky step in the direction Paige had gone. He took another step. Then he was running. He was so tired he wasn't sure he was even breathing, but his legs were pumping and within moments he reached Paige. Before he could stop himself he stumbled on a ripple in the asphalt and sprawled directly in front of her, effectively bringing her forward march to an abrupt halt.

"Walter!" she cried. Kneeling down she began to inspect him, placing a hand gently on one shoulder. "Are you all right? Do you think anything is broken?"

"Just any vestige of dignity I had left," he groaned as he turned over. Sitting up, he brushed his palms together, wincing as the dirt and gravel clinging to his skin aggravated the nasty scrapes. His pants, he concluded, were ruined as he fingered a gaping tear on one knee. The knee in question was bleeding sluggishly, and he was fairly sure he would walk with a slight limp for a day or two. "Nothing a large, economy size of Neosporin won't take care of." he muttered.

"You're sure?" she asked again, concern and the ghost of a laugh battling to take over her features.

Walter nodded, continuing to carefully examine his clothes and exposed skin for damage. Paige turned until she was sitting beside him on the still cool asphalt. She draped her arms around her raised knees.

"So then, maybe you should try this again. Why is it you're here, Walter?"

Walter stopped his assessment of the physical damages and turned to look at the woman sitting next to him. Her hair was pulled back into a casual pony tail and she was wearing silver earrings. He was amused to realize the dangling charms were representations of the DNA double helix and recalled Ralph had given those to his mother for Christmas.

"I think I made that very, embarrassingly clear," he mused.

"Yeeesss," she drawled. "I suppose you did, at that."

"So then the question isn't what am I doing here," Walter continued. "The question is, will you be staying with Tim, or will you come back with me?"

Paige leaned back, then looked up into the sky. Walter assumed she was trying to think of a way to let him down gently. She might not love him, but he knew she would never want to hurt him. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised at her rejection. He'd rejected her repeatedly. In the end he'd actually pushed her into another man's arms. He could only blame himself if she chose to stay with the handsome, outgoing, "normal" Tim. He turned back to his contemplation of his ruined slacks, not wanting to see the look in her eyes when she finally told him.

The next thing he knew, her face was in front of his. She was smiling and moving very, very slowly closer. When she was just centimeters away, Walter realized what she was planning, although he wasn't entirely sure he believed it. He also realized she was giving him every opportunity to back away. This was something he'd never been comfortable with – Paige knew that. Paige didn't know how affected he'd been the last time this happened, when she'd saved his life. Still less did she know the impact of the time before that. He was intensely uncomfortable, but he didn't think he could back away if his life were at stake. And perhaps – it was.

With a sudden impulse, Walter decided that if he could drive 450 miles to tell Paige he loved her, he could move another couple of centimeters. He leaned forward and met her lips with his.

Her lips were soft, and tasted of the coffee she drank every morning. Walter was surprised at how different this kiss was from their previous kisses. He realized that every bit of discomfort fell away the moment their lips touched. In fact, this was comfort. It was warmth, and peace and… home. He never wanted to leave.

Walter reached up, putting one hand behind Paige's head as the other arm went around her back and urged her closer. What had been a sweet, comfortable kiss was deepening. He opened his mouth, and nipped lightly on her upper lip so that when she responded he swept his tongue in to explore the warm, moist depth of her. Too soon, though, she was the one who pulled away.

"Hey," she said. "Let's go home."

July 8, 2016