"Oh." Walter wrinkled his nose and tilted his face to the side, drawing in a deep breath before he returned his attention to Ralph. "Do you want more water?"

Ralph groaned, slumping indelicately against the side of the toilet. His eyes rolled toward the ceiling and he fumbled for the handle, relieved when Walter reached it first and flushed. "I think I've thrown up everything I ate and drank today. I don't want to put anything else in my system."

"Yeah. Uh…okay." Heaving a sympathetic sigh, Walter rubbed circles on Ralph's back, feeling the boy's body start to relax. "I don't want you to get dehydrated, but we can wait until your stomach calms down. Is there anything else you need?"

Ralph shook his head before shifting to lay down on the cold tile floor. Walter pitied the young genius and wished there was more he could do to help. Unfortunately, the combined IQs of Scorpion's members couldn't overcome something as mundane as a stomach virus.

Paige would be arriving soon, at least. In the field of caring for Ralph, she was the undeniable expert.

Walter was glad that she hadn't received his messages until her art history class let out. She sounded slightly frantic when she called, but once he assured her there was no crisis, Walter knew she trusted him to handle the situation. And while it certainly wasn't the most fun he'd ever had with Ralph, he welcomed the opportunity, in a strange way. For years, he'd reassured Paige that she was no longer alone in watching over her son. This was merely Walter putting his money where his mouth was.

"Walter?" her strained voice echoed as soon as the garage door swung open. The genius left his post and walked to the top of the stairs so he wouldn't disturb Ralph further by yelling.

"We're up here." Paige's eyes darted to his before she dropped her bag and rushed up the stairs to meet him. "He's fine," Walter said quietly as they walked toward the loft's bathroom together. "It only started about an hour ago. He thinks he might have eaten bad pizza at school."

She dropped to her knees, brushing Ralph's bangs away from his clammy forehead and taking his temperature with her hand. "Oh, baby," she murmured, glancing from him to the older genius. "Thank you for taking care of him. I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. I was halfway across town and—."

"Please," Walter interrupted, shaking his head. "I didn't mind."

The liaison stared at him for a moment, then blew out a breath and nodded. Her arm wrapped around Ralph's waist, preparing to help him stand, and Walter's came to the boy's other side—to help her or stop her, he wasn't sure.

"You could stay here." Walter cringed at the blatant eagerness in his voice as Paige raised her eyebrows. He cleared his throat. "I mean, Ralph's still vomiting with some frequency. Perhaps it would be easier if he rested here until he was more stable. You're both welcome to stay as long as you need."

Paige had more than a decade of experience in dealing with Ralph's illnesses. She had it in hand. He knew that. And what kind of man volunteered to let a sick child desecrate his bathroom? Walter could just picture himself laying awake until morning as Ralph ejected whatever remained of his stomach contents.

And yet…the thought of Paige and Ralph staying the night, even under these circumstances, caused an odd thump in Walter's chest.

"Uh…thank you," Paige said uncertainly. For a second, Walter thought she might be considering the offer, until she pushed herself up and wiped her now-damp palms on her jeans. "But we can't impose on you like that. You've already been more than enough help." He opened his mouth to reiterate his earlier statements, but her next words rushed out before he could speak. "Plus, I'm sure he'll want to sleep in his own bed. T-Tomorrow…I might have to call out if he's still sick tomorrow, if we don't have a case I can—."

"The virus is likely to stay in his system for at least twenty-four hours. He'll likely need you tomorrow. I will, uh, tell the team to anticipate your absence."

Walter hated the days that Paige wasn't at the garage, when she had an appointment or on weekends if they weren't on a case. But if he couldn't persuade her to stay, he could at least alleviate her concern over devoting the appropriate amount of time to Ralph.

"Thank you, Walter. For everything." The smile she offered, though small, was enough to convince him he had done the right thing. She perched herself on the edge of his bathtub, running her hands through Ralph's hair soothingly. "Come on honey, we're going home. I'll stop on the way to get you some medicine and ginger ale."

Ralph burrowed his face into Paige's leg and shook his head. "No. Dad already did."

Her gaze widened, flying to Walter at an almost unprecedented speed, and the genius was sure his expression betrayed every bit as much surprise as hers. Paige furrowed her eyebrows as she looked back down at her son. "You mean Walter?"

He wanted to explain that he hadn't left Ralph to get anything, that he just happened to have the necessary remedies stocked around the garage—mostly thanks to Paige's habit of picking up personal items for him when she went grocery shopping for the team, things that he was too stubborn to buy himself—but he didn't know how to answer without appearing to presumptuously accept the mistaken title.

Ralph lifted his head, as visibly confused and embarrassed as the two adults. "Y-Yeah." He pressed his lips together, glancing at his mentor sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't…"

Walter looked to Paige. Once the initial shock wore off, he concluded that this was a simple slip of the tongue and easily smoothed over. Drew was not a regular fixture in Ralph's life, and Walter had been filling somewhat of a paternal role over the course of the evening. Not to mention that the young genius was ill and understandably experiencing a mental fog. The most efficient course of action was to reassure the boy and then set about retrieving the items he'd mentioned. "Ralph, it's—."

"It's time to go," Paige said abruptly, drowning him out as she lifted Ralph to his feet. "Are you okay to walk?" The boy clutched his stomach but mumbled in agreement.

Walter swallowed. Perhaps he'd read the situation wrong. Paige was deliberately avoiding his gaze now, directing all of her attention to her son as she guided him toward the entrance to the loft. Was she upset? Had he responded incorrectly to Ralph's comment? She'd barely given him a chance to respond. What Walter had considered a virtual non-issue seemed to be affecting her much more strongly.

He held his tongue, attempting to analyze her sudden shift in behavior, but they reached the door too quickly and Walter disliked the idea of Paige leaving when she was clearly upset. "I'm sorry if—."

"Walter," she said in a quiet voice, halting him. Paige cleared her throat and handed Ralph her keys. "Go wait in the car, okay? I'll be right there." Neither of them spoke until the door clicked shut behind the young genius, and then the liaison exhaled and ran one hand through her loose waves. "No, I'm sorry. This is my fault."

Her fault? He hadn't thought it was anyone's fault. "Paige, really, it's okay."

She held up her hands between them. "I know you care about Ralph. And I appreciate everything you do for him. I really do." She bit her lip. "But, uh…I think the lines are getting blurred. Maybe I've been relying on you too much lately. I didn't mean to put that pressure on you. You never signed up for that kind of responsibility."

You never signed up to be a father. Paige's meaning was clear enough, but Walter still felt like he was missing something. He'd made it clear, in his own unusual way, that he loved Ralph and was wholly devoted to helping the boy grow intellectually and emotionally. Far from being scared off by the moniker, Walter felt privileged to have fulfilled that need for Ralph, even temporarily. Paige's reticence didn't make sense, unless…

Unless she didn't want Ralph to see him as a father.

Maybe she wanted to entrust that role to someone else, to whoever swept her off her feet after Tim. Or maybe she just thought his emotional difficulties made him an unsuitable choice as Ralph's parental figure, in the same way they'd taken him out of the running for her romantic affections.

Walter's stomach dropped. He thought he was making progress. But it still wasn't enough for her.

"Good night," she murmured, wrapping her fingers around his forearm and squeezing gently. The genius usually craved her touch, grateful for whatever he could get even though it was never enough. This time, though, it left him cold.

"Good night," he echoed as she left, not realizing until the garage fell completely silent that he'd neglected to give her that stupid medicine.

This is just going to be a short two-shot. Second part will have more of Paige's perspective and a metric ton of fluff. Review if you're up for it. ;)