REKINDLING THE ROMANCE
AN: I can't seem to stop writing fix it fics. They keep popping up like popcorn. So here's another...
oOoOoOoOoOo
Coal black smoke belched out of the roof and around the jagged edges of the shattered windows, boiling angrily into the night sky. Flames knifed through the broken glass and the charred holes they'd stabbed in the siding, hissing their ire at the water from the high-pressure hoses the firefighters wielded. The condo squealed and groaned in agony as walls, floors and ceilings gave up and crashed inward while the fire celebrated its victory with an impressive display of white hot sparks.
A bare-footed, night-gowned Paige Dineen leaned on her car across the parking lot huddling underneath a scratchy woolen blanket an officer handed her when she'd escaped from the inferno. Ralph sat on the curb beside her staring in horrified fascination, watching mesmerized as their home and everything in it died a fiery death.
Ralph had been awake when the gas line blew causing a fireball in the apartment next door. That fact was probably responsible for saving both of their lives. As it was, they'd both suffered some superficial burns getting out before the whole building was completely engulfed.
It happened so fast. There was no time to grab essentials, let alone mementos and keepsakes. Paige would let herself grieve over all she'd lost later. At the moment, she was numb with shock as well as experiencing profound relief they'd both made it out alive.
Plus, she really needed to concentrate on the more pressing issue of figuring out where they would stay for the rest of the night.
The ashes of her purse were still inside what was left of the building. She normally would've set it on the little table by the front door. But, tonight of all nights, before she'd gone to bed, she was making a grocery list and left it on the kitchen counter instead. It contained everything she needed. Her car keys, her ID, her cash, her debit card, her credit cards. Even her cell phone was now toast.
All those little things a person takes for granted. Lost. Gone. She had no way to contact anyone. She supposed she could borrow a phone, but the only numbers she had readily memorized were Ralph's, hers, the Centipede office and… the garage. Which wasn't an option.
Before she could finish that thought, a well-known silhouette came stalking through the dense mist cast from the hoses and the thick, gray, ground-level smoke. The flashing red and blue lights and flickering firelight cast his face in shadow and lent a disco-like background strobe to the purposeful rhythm of his stride.
Paige was so relieved to see Walter her knees almost buckled.
However, as he got closer, his face didn't seem especially welcoming.
Ralph stood and jogged over to him. He grabbed the boy's shoulders. "Are you alright?" His eyes met hers then narrowed and did a quick assessment. "Both of you?"
Her son nodded. "Yes. We're fine."
"Walter? What are you doing here?" Paige asked, not meaning the words to sound as ungrateful as they came out. She was sincerely confused.
"I called him when you were talking to the police." Ralph pulled his phone from his pocket and gave her a guilty look.
Paige opened her mouth to scold him for presuming, but her son interrupted her. "He was the only logical choice, Mom. Toby and Happy have a spare room, but there's no bed in there. It's full of old medical textbooks and essays and motorcycle parts. It's almost floor-to-ceiling boxes. Sly lives in a closet. He has no extra room. Amy has a boyfriend and a new roommate…"
"I'm glad you called me, Ralph," Walter cut in tersely, frowning in Paige's direction.
"There was really no need for him to bother you. I don't have my keys, but if one of the firefighters could use a slim jim to let us into my car, we could spend the rest of tonight in there and…"
"No." Walter bit the word off angrily. Paige quailed a bit under his suddenly furious glare. "You and Ralph will never spend another night in a car again as long as I'm alive and I'm able. Understood?" He took a breath and his demeanor and tone softened slightly, but it still brooked no arguments. "You can have the use of my loft for as long as you need it. I'll take the airstream."
"I couldn't ask that of you…" She tried.
He clenched his fists at his sides. "You aren't asking. I'm tell… I-I'm off-offering. Please. I have more than enough room. It's no trouble."
He looked down quickly, but not before she saw his teeth clamp together and his jaw working. He blinked hard a few times. Unfortunately she knew him well enough to know he was struggling with being overcome by his emotions.
A few uncomfortable beats later, Walter took off his coat and draped it around Ralph's shoulders before toeing off his shoes and holding them out to Paige. When she only stared at them, he shook them impatiently. "I have socks that will somewhat protect my feet. Your feet are bare. We have to walk across a wet parking lot littered with burning embers and broken glass. It's either borrow my shoes or I'll have to carry you on my back."
Well. When he put it like that.
He dropped them on the ground in front of her and she slipped her feet inside. They were blessedly warm.
Without another word, Walter pivoted on the spot and took off toward his car fully expecting them to follow. Naturally Ralph did, leaving her to clomp slowly and awkwardly after the two geniuses in shoes several sizes too large, like a little girl playing dress up.
His were some mighty big shoes to fill. In more ways than one.
She'd discovered that fact pretty quickly after a few weeks of attempting to run a genius consulting business on her own and trying to keep her disagreeing and diverse co-workers on task. Paige finally understood why Walter had often acted so autocratically. It certainly saved time and headaches. Sure, at Scorpion the glory hadn't always been shared as equally as it should've been, but the blame had always, without exception, landed squarely on Walter. Her eyes had been painfully opened in a way they hadn't been before the split.
Ralph clambered into the back seat like he always did. It forced Paige to either choose the front seat next to her prickly ex or look like an idiot getting into the back like she was catching a ride with some random Uber driver.
He didn't look at her as she sat down next to him and buckled up. No one spoke as they drove away.
Once the adrenaline wore off, Paige felt unbelievably exhausted. And scared. Leaning against the cool glass of the window, she felt the press of weak tears behind her eyelids as they slid closed over gritty eyes. She also noticed the minor burns on her hands had begun to sting and throb. Her teeth started to chatter. She hadn't even realized she was shivering until it was nearly uncontrollable.
Before she could ask, Walter cranked the heater up to full blast.
The next thing she knew, the car was gliding to a stop in the lot of a twenty-four hour pharmacy.
Walter reached over and lightly touched her arm. "I need my shoes back. I'm going to run in and grab a couple of things you and Ralph will need for tonight. We can worry about other necessities tomorrow." He spoke in a low voice, glancing furtively into the back seat.
As he got out, she opened the visor mirror to surreptitiously check on Ralph. Her son was out cold, his head lolling back against the headrest, his mouth open and slack. She smiled, shaking her head. It always amazed her what Ralph could sleep through.
Then she caught a glimpse of her reflection. She almost cried out in dismay. Her hair was a damp, windblown mess. Her cheeks were liberally streaked with soot and the useless tears she'd hoped went undetected made conspicuous runnels through it. She wiped her face as best she could on the blanket that still covered her. Now, if she could only find her brush. Paige searched the floorboard for her purse until she remembered it had burned up in the fire. Along with everything else they owned.
By the time Walter came out of the store, she was bawling. Nose running, eyes swelling, face blotching, full-on ugly crying.
He opened her door and set a plastic bag full of toiletries on the floor by her feet. His expression was all stark panic. She would've found it funny if she wasn't already so distraught.
Walter gulped and dug his phone out of his front pants pocket. Paige tried to get herself under control as he paced the parking lot talking to… It sounded like he said Toby? But she couldn't hear properly over her own hiccupping sobs.
A few minutes later, he was crouched down beside her. "Paige?" he said tentatively. "Toby... he, uh, said this-this, uh, reaction is likely due to shock. He said I should try h-hugging you? Is-is that okay?"
He hadn't finished speaking before she fell into his arms, a fresh wave of wailing and blubbering pouring out of her. Walter patted her back hesitantly and murmured nonsense into her smoky-smelling hair while she leaked tears and soot-blackened snot onto his shoulder.
Paige kept apologizing. She didn't know if she was sorry for the current circumstances or if she was begging forgiveness for past mistakes. Not that it mattered since neither could understand the words regardless.
Walter released her like a live viper when she'd finally pulled herself together. He dug around in the bag until he located a packet of tissues and he handed them to her unceremoniously before returning to his side of the car.
Paige mopped up her face and blew her stuffy nose. Her eyes flitted around looking for somewhere to dispose of it and finally settled for crumpling up the tissue and stuffing it in the pocket of her nightgown. To have somewhere to look that wasn't in the driver's direction, she dug through the sack and found toothbrushes and socks, a hairbrush and ponytail holders, deodorant and burn cream. And a warm, plush pair of slippers. In her exact size.
Paige used her teeth to remove the tag separating the scuffs and put them on over frozen toes.
Wow. Even their toothbrushes were gone. Another bout of tears threatened, but she bit her lip to contain it. They were alive and unharmed. That was the most important thing.
Plus, they had a… friend. One who was willing to take them in until they figured all this out. Yes, they were homeless. Again. But they weren't broke this time. And they weren't alone.
Paige's eyes met Walter's. No matter what crisis happened. They could always count on him. Why had she ever taken that for granted?
His focus returned to the road and soon they were pulling up outside the garage.
Home.
No, they weren't homeless at all. A blanket of peace descended and wrapped her up snuggly. She knew. She and Ralph would always have a home there if they needed it.
Walter opened the back door and shook Ralph's shoulder gently. "Hey. Wake up. We're here." The boy groaned and pulled a face. "Just come inside and you can go right back to sleep if you want."
The tired teen shuffled toward the door, yawning hugely. Ralph automatically keyed in the alarm code – it hadn't been changed – and continued inside and up the ramp, undoubtedly to faceplant on the couch at the first opportunity.
Walter and Paige stood facing each other in the middle of the remarkably unchanged office area of the garage. They both watched until Ralph disappeared then their gazes came together and locked. Paige felt that old, familiar buzz of awareness arc between them.
Holy crap. She'd forgotten how handsome he was. Here she was looking frightful and bedraggled, and there he was looking more appealing than ever. Damn him to hell and back.
Walter broke eye contact and gestured toward the stairs. "Um. I'll just go get my stuff, so you can…"
"Yes. Get your stuff. Okay. Good-good idea." She sounded like a moron.
While Walter was upstairs, Paige took the opportunity to poke around a little. It was gratifying to note that Florence apparently hadn't moved into her old desk. Her own personal effects were probably boxed up and stored somewhere, but her desk didn't appear to be occupied at least. So, he hadn't replaced her. Yet. She shouldn't care.
But she did.
Walter came back down with a duffle under one arm. "All yours," he said before making a beeline for the trailer.
Paige took her time in a scalding hot shower. Everything about her smelled of smoke and there were some drywall fragments and heaven only knows what other debris in her hair. She'd unearthed some of her 'beauty products' hiding in the back of his bathroom cupboard as well as a tote full of Ralph's and her clothes in the top of Walter's closet.
After fluff-drying her hair, she chose a pair of soft pajama shorts she found among her forgotten things. Without allowing herself to think too much about why, she pulled on Walter's white oxford shirt instead of the matching top.
Still refusing to think about it, Paige crept down the stairs in her brand new fluffy house shoes and made her way quietly to the airstream.
The light was off, but she could see the faint blue glow of his laptop screen through the curtains. She tapped softly on the door and waited. Her heart knocked much louder against her ribcage.
Just when she was about to give up, calling herself all kinds of foolish, the door opened and he leaned his head out.
"Did you need something?" He asked. Then he noticed the shirt. His lips parted and his eyes widened.
Paige cleared her throat. Unable to hide how pleased she was with his reaction, she bit her lip to partially contain the satisfied smile. "I don't think I ever thanked you properly. I appreciate everything you've done. Everything you're still doing. I know you didn't have to."
"Yes I did," he whispered.
She felt herself slinking toward him, moving her hips sinuously while she saw him fight the urge to drool. "Why?"
Paige trailed a finger down the placket of buttons on the front of the shirt she was wearing watching his eyes closely track the motion.
"I, uh, couldn't… that is… There-there wasn't any way I-I…"
"You wanna know what I think?"
He nodded his head as she drew closer. He stepped to one side as she climbed up into the trailer next to him.
Paige placed a hand on Walter's chest right over his rapidly beating heart. Then she moved it up to cup his cheek. "I think you're a good man with a good heart. I think you'll always be there for us when we need you like no one else. Ever. I think you realize, in spite of our differences and our stupid mistakes, we belong together. We're family. I think you genuinely love Ralph and me the same way we genuinely love you. And you have to know, no matter what's happened between us, you're still the love of my life. Love makes sense when we're together. Am I right?"
Walter swallowed hard and nodded again, his eyes never leaving hers.
Paige couldn't say for sure who made the first move after that, but in the next instant they were kissing and touching and peeling off all remaining barriers, tugging, nipping and groping in their haste to feel skin on skin. It wasn't long before she found herself stripped bare and plunked down on the flimsy table – somewhere in the hazy back of her mind hoping it would hold her weight then reminding herself to trust her genius already did the necessary calculations – while Walter stepped between her thighs, his pants riding just below his hips. He drove into her and she keened into his neck, her nails digging into his back.
Yes. Paige was home. And she was home for Walter. They were together. They could face anything; handle anything as long as they were together.
They spent the rest of the night making up for all the nights they'd been apart.
Boy, was she was glad the airstream's walls couldn't talk.