Author note: Thank you so much for your warm feedback, it means a lot!
Two more updates to go after this one and don't worry some reward is coming soon for us Waige Shippers.
You will discover a lot of tunes (Irish and not) in this chapter. Originally from 'Chris Isaak', the version of 'Wicked Game' I invite you to listen in the second half is the one by Ursine Vulpine ft. Annaca. Beautiful!
Hope you will enjoy the music as much as the chapter ;)
Chapter 4: Attraction
She was in his bedroom! The genius offered his commodities because he stated 'a woman needs some privacy' and the room had its own facilities. He was going to sleep in the spare bedroom. She felt a little self-conscious being in there. Everything was so different from the loft but so familiar at the same time. Everything in this bedroom reminded her of him.
For the last couples of weeks she spent most of the time in Walter's personal apartment at the garage to have some semblance of privacy while dealing with the visa situation. She found herself sleeping at least two nights in there, after juggling between minor cases and homeland negotiation for his naturalization. Of course not in the genius' proper bed but on the couch in the living area, otherwise, and knowing Toby, she would never hear the end of it. And the behaviorist always found a way to witness this kind of imprudence or indiscretion. She allowed herself one thing, under the pretense that it was innocent, to borrow - and yes borrow because he was going to comeback- his' pillow. It was the only two nights she might have succeeded at having a full night sleep. She never let herself dwell on that fact. Until now.
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"Hi"
Walter snapped his head up from his laptop a little confused. The genius was immersed in his work, after spending the first hour after her arrival obsessing about finding the cause for the liaison's presence. She could have told him by phone. It was more efficient! Why on hack was she there?
"Hi… You are up?" he finally said.
"Yeah… I- I needed that nap." She looked at him a little embarrassed then added; "Now I'm kind of hungry…" She wasn't going to tell him that she didn't have a proper meal and lost plenty of sleep since his departure. "I didn't eat well on the flight nor did I get much sleep."
"It, uh, it's comprehensive… uh, planes are not comfortable and airline food is not very appealing," he said staring at her intently. After a moment, which felt more like eternity, he added "Uh, if you want there is a pub nearby where you could eat a satisfying meal and experience the folkloric music… I, I know you love music. I'm sure you'll enjoy it," he supplied.
She nodded with a bright smile and turn to go change…
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On the plane, Paige read in a magazine that pubs in Ireland are an institution by themselves. Very friendly and casual, they are all about having fun. The Irish pub experience begins with their unmistakable outside façades. Beautifully painted wood -or stones as "Brazen Head", one of the oldest pubs in Dublin, which looks like a little medieval castle - and because pubs are traditionally family-owned, they often have big gilded, ornate letters at the entrance, indicating the owner's name.
The one near Walter's home ended up being very popular and a little crowd was gathered in the front. While 197 waited outside to makes his presence known to the guy managing the entrance, Paige, who was standing beside him asked if they had a reservation. The genius just smiled, pointed up with his finger, then turned when he heard his name. Confused she tilted her head up, her eyes widened and mouth felt open. When they approached the pub she was so overwhelmed by the atmosphere of the street she didn't notice the name of the establishment. On a big deep red plaque at the second floor level she could read "The SUSSEX", but the name on the front green facade was none other than "M O'Briens".
"What? … Did you …?" She hadn't have the time to finish as she had to trail behind the genius to catch up with him inside. They were asked to wait in the bar while the table was readied. The place was warm and very welcoming; the walls were covered in woods in a deep red tone, the barstools were the same color in a leather fabric. The space was crowded; people were inside and outside in the street happily chatting with drinks in their hands… She started to understand the meaning of "The Irish Pub Experience" and it was just the beginning.
She was so absorbed by taking in the ambience of the place, that she missed when she was asked what she would like to drink and she was surprised when a pint of Guinness was placed in front of her by Tony!, one of the oldest bartenders.
Yes, even the people working there were an institution!
The O'Briens' pub was divided in three sections; the bar, the restaurant named "the Sussex" and the lounge. The genius informed her that while it was recently renovated, the bar had remained untouched for nearly 100 years, making it one of the oldest in Dublin, but not THE oldest.
The Sussex restaurant carried the same cachet with more refinement and elegance than the bar. The paneled wall was a shade of green reminiscent of the outside facade. The tables and sofa-like chairs were also deep red color. They were seated next to a lovely, small chimney which had big picture beside it on the wall, framed with an ostentatiously carved wood, where you could read: M.O'BRIEN'S Grocer & Wine Merchant. This part of the place was very cozy and kind of romantic. Not awkward at all!
They had dinner in relative silence. Both avoiding sensitive subjects and by 'comme un accord' stuck to very neutral ones like Ireland & Ralph. When the meal came to an end, Walter offered to have a drink in the lounge, down stairs, so she could experience the real Dublin night life. Live Music!
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"What's happening? Why everybody standing up? " Paige asked when a five piece band took the stage followed by three women from the audience who positioned themselves on the improvised dance floor.
The waitress took them to a tiny table with two squeezed-together chairs, took their order and left.
Walter assessed the situation. He remembered seeing the program at the entrance yesterday.
Smiling, he turned to look at her. "They are going to perform the Morrison Jig. It's traditional Irish music also known as Cry Of The Celtic or Maurice Carmondy's Favorite. A lot of names and versions exist. In fact, James Morrison was the fiddler that made this tune popular, but he's not the one who wrote it. The story goes that Morrison learned the tune from a band mate in NYC, Tom Carmondy. Tom learned it from his father, who called it –The Stick Across The Hob-…" Walter trailed off, reminding himself that normal people aren't as interested in facts as him, but Paige seamed fascinated by his babbling. Or was it the subject! The music. He couldn't stop himself recalling her singing at the end of the case with the music prodigy Peyton Temple who synthesized electronic sounds… He stopped his train of thought and refocused on the conversation. Paige was looking at him… he was tempted to say fascinated.
When the first notes rang out, they both turned to watch the stage. Half of the pub's crowd was now down around the dance floor. Walter bent slightly until his lips were near her right ear "People are standing up because the music is quite appealing," he said with a half-smile.
Soon the whistle was accompanied by what could be described as a drum, and the company's liaison felt her hair stand up while goose bumps ran over her entire body. She looked at him with a stunned expression while he smiled knowing what was happening to her. She just managed a "Wow" when the tempo sped up a little with the addition of the accordion. The music halted, then all at once all of the instruments, including a fiddle and what looked like a mandolin, played at the same time making the tempo faster. She felt her leg moving with the contagious rhythm. The people around them were dancing in a line tapping their feet on the floor like tap-dancing. They were moving to regroup then lining up again. Their legs were flying while the upper part of their body stayed as still as possible. It was captivating, people jumping all around with the music performing little figures.
Walter was shaking his head slightly, laughing. He was very pleased with her reaction. Paige's eyes were literally glued to the crowd with an amazed expression on her face, her head and legs moving with the music. It was the first time a women in his company in what could be described as a date -even platonic date… they'd had a meal, drinks and then another drink and music and no Ralph either… so, yes, it could be described as a date- was enjoying herself.
The typical, traditional Irish music went on for two hours or so. According to the program, the musicians performed among others; Swallowtail Jig, The Glasgow Reel, Castle Kelly and Farewell to Erin. As well as a special guest who seemed to be an international star, but Paige had never heard of her. She was no less than "Karen Matheson" the vocal singer of the Celtic group "Capercaillie" with a guest star from Algeria "Idir" performing "A Vava Inouva". And this performance was the most sensational ever, the woman's voice was angelic and the song was sung in a foreign language –Berber according to Walter- and it felt like a spell was cast. Everybody was mesmerized by the performance. It was epic!
Paige was delighted and charmed by the atmosphere in the pub. People kept dancing, drinking and singing. It was the first time she had the chance to travel out of the US when she wasn't on a mission with Scorpion for Homeland. She'd never experienced what it was like to be a tourist or travel with a boyfriend, not that this was the case. But she couldn't keep from feeling a little self-conscious around Walter and slightly nervous now that she understood the depth of his feeling for her and her for him. She was excited like a teenager. Even her dates with Tim weren't that … thrilling. Sure, she was a little embarrassed to have traveled so many miles away from home – for sure the genius could say how many miles exactly - leaving her son at home, breaking up with her boyfriend and ending up staying at her boss … ex-boss's place. But she was so relieved to finally see him after two weeks of profound agony, after he'd left walking away from her and everything that ever had a meaning in his life; his company!
It was almost midnight and, by then, the soft music had lowered a few decibels. The atmosphere had shifted from festive to a more intimate one. 197 was contemplating the idea of leaving to be on the safe side He didn't want to risk putting them in a more awkward situation than they were already in. They were just friends, even though he knew she flew 5,174 miles, ending up just outside his door.
By chance she was the one to suggest they head back. What he didn't predict was that she would ask to hear some local radio. The device was set on a music station. After seeing the questioning look on Paige face, Walter explained that studies demonstrate that listening to background music while working improves concentration and therefore productivity. He just omitted the precise detail that said lyrics are often too distracting, so the study was specifically about melodies.
The genius blinked several times before zooming out of his head and understanding what she was doing. He looked at her extended arm, wondering if it was an appropriate thing to do.
She somehow saw his hesitation and smiled, telling him it was one of her favorite songs. Perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps it was the fact she was miles away from everything; home, kids, which included the geniuses as well as her son, Scorpion… responsibilities. Miles away in a new country and she'd just had a very beautiful, enchanting evening.
Perhaps it was the Irish Pub's effect!
She saw him visibly swallow. He was nervous. He looked away avoiding any eye contact. She was sure he was going to decline her invitation to dance. Perhaps it was too intimate for him. What was she thinking that she would just appear at his doorstep and everything would be back to normal!?
It wasn't the first time Walter heard the song... when he finally paid attention to the lyrics few days ago, he thought his brain was playing a trick on him. … Tonight wouldn't be an exception.
The world was on fire and no one could save me but you
He couldn't stop himself seeing both of them in that Chernobyl's building, him hanging on the beam and her giving him the breath of air he so desperately needed.
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do
Walter gaze dropped to Paige's left hand then, looking back at her with a faint smile, he wrapped his fingers around hers and stepped forward, tugging gently to pull her closer. He placed his left hand on her waist and slid it slowly up to the small of her back, without breaking eye contact.
"You're not pushing me on the swing", He remembered her telling him the last time he had her this close.
I'd never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you
Walter was looking at her with such intensity; Paige felt her body temperature rise. But something else was present in his eyes. Melancholy?
And I'd never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you
And it drowned her. The lyrics!
No I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart)
Walter drew her closer, losing eye contact.
With you (this girl is only gonna break your heart)
She was overwhelmed by his closeness. She couldn't keep her eyes from closing while his scent was enveloping her, taking her hostage. She breathed in and all of a sudden, her body relaxed, liberating all of the past weeks' tension.
What a wicked game you played to make me feel this way
She felt him brushing her hair with his nose and taking a deep breath.
What a wicked thing to do to let me dream of you
She felt his left hand on the small of her back tightening.
What a wicked thing to say you never felt this way
She felt him slightly step back and they locked eyes. The intensity of his stare… She felt herself being drawn to him.
What a wicked thing to do to make me dream of you
He felt himself drown in her hazelnut gaze, blurring everything in his periphery.
And I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart)
She felt her lips tingling with anticipation. She was giving in.
No I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart)
At once, the reality of the moment dawned on him; he couldn't allow himself to give in. It would lead nowhere, her feelings toward him were clear. He wasn't what she needed… and was leaving in a few days.
With you
He stepped back, thanked her and disappeared upstairs.
She stayed glued on the spot. What just happened? Did she misinterpret the signals?
