Author's note: Warning - Heavy Angst Ahead in this chapter and the next. How heavy is it? I made myself cry as I wrote it some of it.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Loud clanking and the whine of an electric motor woke Paige. For a moment she forgot where she was before remembering crying herself to sleep on Walter's bed. Opening her eyes, she saw it was light outside. Rain pattered on the garage roof.

Walter! He must be back and parking his car inside to keep it dry. She hoped she'd left enough room. She'd brought hers inside, still worried Tim would try to track her down. Thinking she might need to move it, she hopped off the mattress before dashing into the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face, avoided glancing in the mirror over the sink at her red puffy eyes framed with dark purple shadows. She finger combed her hair as best she could before hurrying to the stairs.

Paige came to a halt half way down the staircase as she watched Happy and Toby slide a metal ramp from the back of the mechanic's truck. After they'd placed it on the tailgate, they walked over to where Happy had parked her motorcycle.

Disappointment filled her as her vision blurred. It wasn't Walter. He was probably still at the hotel with Simone, sleeping next to the French woman or else. . . A whimper escaped her lips at the picture of a drowsy Walter kissing and touching and. . . She spun around, intending to go back to hiding in the loft.

"And what do we have here?" Toby's mocking voice stopped her before she could take a step. "What are you doing here so early on a Saturday morning, Ms Dineen? I thought you and Mr Armstrong were leaving last night for your romantic getaway. Did you have a change of plans?"

Twirling back around, Paige completed her journey down the stairs, pausing at the bottom for a second before making her way to her desk. "It's none of your business, Toby." She began pulling open drawers, grabbing whatever was on top, tossing it on her desktop, then slamming them shut. "What are you two doing here so early?"

"Picking up my bike," said Happy as she fiddled with some gadget on its handlebars. "I'm selling it. Got a buyer coming over to look at it this afternoon."

"Selling it?" Paige asked incredulously as she closed the drawer she'd just opened. "You've worked for years restoring that bike. Why would you sell it?"

"Need the money. Plus I won't be riding for awhile" The mechanic shrugged nonchalantly but Paige could see the sadness in the other woman's expression. Happy pushed the motorcycle to the end of the ramp. "Dammit, Doc, come help me get this loaded up."

"Just a minute, sweetie dear," the shrink replied before turning his attention back to Paige. "What did you do with Timothy?" He smirked smugly. "Although I already know the answer to that one."

She ignored his innuendo. "Did you file the divorce papers?" she asked Happy.

Toby shook a finger at her. "Uh uh uh. We answered one of your questions. Now you have to answer one of ours. Ow, okay, mine," he added as Happy slugged his arm.

"Fine." Paige started gathering up the items on her desk. "There was a slight change of plans. And I forgot to pack this stuff yesterday."

"You need a ruler, a roll of stamps, and a manila file for a romantic weekend?" It was the shrink's turn to be skeptical. "What kind of kinky sex are you into that you'd need office supplies?" His suspicious expression turned to amusement and he leaned toward Happy. "Makes me wonder what the ruler is for," he said out of the side of his mouth as he gently nudged the other woman's arm.

Oh, God. A wave of heat flushed through Paige from head to toe. Unpleasant memories of Tim and his inadequate equipment sprang into her mind and she had to sit down. She wished they would just leave and let her wallow in her self-inflicted misery.

"Yeah, I filed the papers," declared Happy. "Cabe was right. A divorce takes six months."

"And baby Quintis will be here before that," Toby stated bitterly.

"Can't you go to Mexico or Nevada or somewhere for a quickie divorce?"

"Nope," the psychiatrist replied. "Not anymore. They all have residency requirements now. The only options left are the Dominican Republic and Guam. Getting a divorce in Guam would be the best route because it's recognized in all fifty states."

"Guam?" Were they seriously considering getting a divorce in Guam? Had they totally lost their minds? Or was she still asleep and this was all a crazy dream? She had to talk them out of this insanity.

"You guys can't just go to Guam," she began, "What if we need you for a case?"

"Settle down, Dineen, we're not going to Guam." Happy's voice cracked and Paige could see tears gathering in her eyes. "We don't have the money for starters. I just want to be married to the father of my child before it's born. Is that too much to ask?"

"It's just a piece of paper," Paige said, waving her hand dismissively. "It doesn't mean you're less of a family without it."

"Like you and Drew?" asked Toby with a sneer.

"Being married to him wouldn't have made him stay." Paige sighed wearily. "It would have only made things worse."

"You know," the shrink said as he glanced over at Happy. "Maybe Walter could lend us the money. It's his fault we're in this predicament in the first place. Ten days in sunny Guam and he'd be a free man. . .and you'd be a free woman." He tried to put his arms around but she lifted her knee and he backed off.

Paige shook her head as she got to her feet. "Walter would never agree to that."

"Walter can't deny us time off," the psychiatrist contradicted before grinning at Happy. "Hey, maybe we should stick around until he gets back and spring our idea on him. Getting laid should put him in a good mood." Toby waggled his eyebrows.

Her stomach lurched at the reminder Walter was with Simone. Her eyes grew damp and she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to stop herself from shaking. "Fine," she said, plopping back down in her chair. "Don't cry to me when he tells you no."

"We won't." The shrink threw up his hands before turning to Happy. "Let's get you loaded up, honey pie."

"About time, dumbass," the mechanic grumbled as she lined up her motorcycle onto the ramp..

Paige stared at them as they secured the bike into the back of Happy's truck, finally looking away with a sigh. Thinking she may as well do some paperwork while she was there, she grabbed a case file from her inbox. But before she could open the folder, the door creaked open and Walter stepped inside.

"Woo-hoo-hoo, look who's doing the walk of shame this morning," announced Toby.

Paige watched as Walter's face turned crimson. He had a serious case of bed head with his hair sticking up in odd places. His shirt has untucked, the buttons were done up incorrectly, he'd missed some of them completely. Dark burgundy lipstick stained the collar and there were smears of the same color on his neck. He was carrying his jacket draped over his arm and her breathing hitched when she saw his red tie in his right hand.

His eyes darted quickly around the room before staring at the floor. "Why are you all here? It's Saturday."

"Why are you here?" countered the shrink. Without waiting for a reply, he asked, "Hey, Walt, what's it like French kissing a French woman?"

"Shut the hell up, Toby." Walter lifted his head to glare at the psychiatrist, who received a whack upside the head from Happy. He'd heard Paige's gasp, but he couldn't bring himself to glance her way.

"Well, so much for the good mood theory," the shrink wisecracked as he opened the truck door. "So long, big brain, we've got a motorcycle to sell." With that, he climbed into the passenger seat and Happy drove off. The overhead door rattled shut behind them.

Walter had been keenly aware of Paige's presence from the moment he entered the garage. He'd squirmed as her eyes swept over his disheveled appearance. Dressing in the dark hadn't been one of his better ideas but he hadn't wanted to disturb Simone, who had been sleeping in the other room. He'd wanted to avoid an awkward scene with the agent this morning, only to walk into an even more awkward scene with the one person he really wanted to avoid.

"Walter?"

He didn't want to acknowledge her. He was tired, he'd tossed and turned all night, the guilt he had almost had intercourse with another woman and the frustration he hadn't keeping him awake. Dealing with her was the last thing he wanted to do. But he couldn't ignore her as a reason why she was there and not with the interloper crossed his mind.

"Is something wrong with Ralph?" he asked, glancing upward. "Is he upstairs?"

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. "No, Ralph's fine." She shook her head. "Walter, I. . ."

"What?" he said brusquely, staring back down at the cracks in the concrete floor. "I thought you and. . .and Tim. . .w-went away for the weekend. So if Ralph's okay, why are y-you here?"

She burst into tears. Pressing his lips together, he lifted his head to see her wiping at her face. She didn't look much better than he did. Her clothing was wrinkled, her hair was messy, her eyes were red and puffy and underlined with dark circles. He wanted to go to her, but he couldn't. She didn't want him. She wanted. . .Tim. Crushing his tie in his fist, he averted his gaze.

"Walter, please," she sobbed. "Don't be like this. I. . . We. . . Walter, I'm. . ."

"Why are you here? You made your choice. And it w-wasn't me."

"I'm sorry." She rose up out of her chair. "I know I hurt you. But I didn't want you to. . .well. . .you and Simone. . ." Walking toward him, she put out her hand.

He stepped back, staring at her outstretched hand like it was a snake. "I thought you w-wanted nothing to do with me. I'm still married. N-Nothing has changed."

Lowering her arm, she then wrapped it about her waist. "I know. I know I have no right to be. . .to be jealous. But I am. I can't help it."

Closing his eyes, he inhaled then exhaled slowly, trying to tamp down his frustration. He could feel her staring at him, and he met her gaze. "Not that you will believe me," he began, his voice as dull as the pain in his chest, "but I didn't have. . .I didn't sleep with Simone."

"You. . .You didn't? Why not?" She sounded incredulous.

"Because it felt like I was cheating on you," he replied, wanting her to know the whole truth. "I love you. And I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out, and I know I shouldn't have expected you to wait for me. But I did. And I know I've. . .I've lost y-you forever. I just. . .I just hope you and. . .Tim. . .w-will be happy together."

He spun away then, unable to bear her presence any longer. He headed toward the stairs, intending to shower and change his clothes.

A loud wail stopped him in his tracks. He turned in time to see Paige drop to her knees to the floor, her head in her hands as sobs wracked her body. Walter tossed his jacket and tie aside and rushed over to her, crouching down in front of her.

"What's wrong? Are you ill?" He wanted so badly to touch her, but he didn't want to make whatever she was going through worse.

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. Wrapping her arms around herself, she began rocking back and forth. She'd shut her eyes but not before he'd caught a glimpse of the distress she was suffering.

"Oh, God, Paige, what's wrong? What can I do?"

Reaching out, she placed her hand on his cheek. "I'm sorry. . .so sorry," she mumbled between sniffles. "I should have waited for you. Tim. . .oh, God. . .Tim. . .he. . .he. . ." She moaned again, her pain cutting him like a knife.

"What did he do, Paige?" He gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Did he hurt you?"

She was gasping for air and he could tell she was on the verge of becoming hysterical. Maybe because he was as well. "I should have. . .should have stopped him, I-I d-didn't want him. . ."

"He. . .r-raped y-you?" Walter's concern transformed into fury. "Mr Perfect r-raped you?"

"He's not p-perfect. He's. . .Oh, God. . ." She grew incoherent as her tears continued to flow. She leaned into him and he put his arms around her.

"Are you okay? Do you need to go to the ER?" he asked as he helped her to her feet and led her to the couch.

"No." She buried her face into his shoulder. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry?" She was trembling in his embrace and he had a hard time keeping his temper in check. "He's the one who needs to be sorry. If he hurt you. . ."

"I'm okay," she mumbled, contradicting herself when she winced as she shifted her position. He lightly patted her back until she finally calmed down. "I'm so sorry," she said again as she relaxed against him.

Without thinking, he kissed her forehead. He froze as she pulled back, staring at him with wide shimmering eyes.

"Walter?" Her breathless whisper sent a shiver down his spine. A wholly inappropriate response but he couldn't help himself. His ill-timed desire was fueled further as she drew closer until her lips were a millimeter away from his.

He closed his eyes, savoring the anticipation of her mouth on his. His heart was beating out of his chest, his breathing almost nonexistent. The scent of her lavender made him twitch with need.

The door slammed open, its loud creak startling both of them and they sprang apart.

"Paige? Where are you?" Tim's impatient voice proceeded him as he strode into the garage. He abruptly came to a halt as he glanced in their direction. "Paige," he said, coming toward them. "I've been worried sick. I've been looking. . ."

The ex-Navy SEAL never got the chance to finish his sentence as Walter jumped to his feet and launched himself at the other man, knocking his interloping ass to the floor.