Chapter Ten.

A small but persistent humming interrupted his crossword puzzle, and Peter looked up from the newspaper, blinking a few moments. He reached out from his sprawled position on the bed, scooping up the cell phone and taking a glance at the caller ID. A small, confident smile touched his face, "Hey, Walter, turn that down," he said as he slid the face of the phone upward, holding it to his ear.

Walter, pajama-clad and spending little to no time in his own room, cursed softly as he missed a note on the guitar-shaped controller in his lap, "I'm busy!" he exclaimed in exasperation as he tried to keep up with a fresh wave of scales.

Frowning, Peter leaned forward to grab up the remote, turning down the volume of the Hendrix song, "Hey, Astrid, what's up?" he asked.

"Hey, Peter," she said, her voice still hard to hear from the game, and Peter turned up the volume of the speaker.

"I was just thinking of calling you. I was wondering-"

"Um, Peter, I was… I was wondering if maybe I could talk to Walter," Astrid said.

Peter paused, his eyebrows dipping momentarily, "Is something wrong?"

"No. I just need to talk to him. Is he there?"

Peter looked up at his father, hurriedly clicking away, "Yeah, he's here. Mostly. Sure, I'll get him for you…" Peter lifted the phone away from his ear, pressing a palm over the mic, "Walter!" He called, "Walter, do you want to talk to Astrid?"

"Who?" Walter questioned, his eyes intent on the screen.

"Astrid. From the lab."

Walter chewed his cheek in contemplation, "The cute girl? With the face?" he questioned at last, holding down a chord.

Peter chuckled, "Yeah."

Walter dropped the controller onto the carpet, grabbing up the remote to mute the television, "Give me the phone," he said, holding out his hand, and Peter handed it to him. Walter was about to answer, when he paused, looking up at his son, "Stings a little, dunnit?"

"Shut up," Peter frowned.

"Walter Bishop speaking," Walter said into the phone, rising to head for a little privacy in the bathroom, "Yes, hello. Peter is my son. With the beard. I don't have a beard. I used to- what was that? Yes. No. Maybe. Sometimes. Uh-huh…" his comments were disrupted as he shut the door.

Peter looked up at the SONG FAILED bold print on the television screen, thoughtful. Astrid had sounded slightly distressed, and he wondered if it had anything to do with his father. If that were the case…

Peter got off the bed to gather the controller off the floor, Walter's responses muffled through the wall. Peter wound the chord in his fingers absently, his thoughts suddenly straying to the absurd- nothing had happened between them, had it?

Was he jealous?

Peter suddenly shook his head, letting out a laugh. He was getting upset over something that simply couldn't happen. Freaking out over hypothetical situations- he had always been good at being paranoid. He pressed down on the green fret, electing to try the song himself.

xXx

"Walter, quit singing into the phone!" Astrid snapped, agitated.

"The acoustics in the bathroom are quite good," He replied apologetically, his voice distant and hazy through her cell phone speaker. She had to plug her unoccupied ear with her finger to hear him over the chatter of passersby.

"Yes, great, grand," Astrid sighed, "Walter, I needed to talk to you about what happened in the lab yesterday. We can't have something like this hanging over us, you know."

Miles away and several stories higher, Walter had taken to observing just how strange his pinky toe looked, seated on the edge of the bathtub, "Oh, yes, certainly," he answered understandingly.

Astrid frowned, glaring as a taxi cab passed, horn blaring for what appeared to be no reason, "Do you even know what I'm talking about, Walter?" she questioned flatly.

"Nope," Walter replied in sing-song, pulling his leg up to his chest to get a better look at his foot.

Astrid sighed, "I figured as much. Walter, what happened in the lab… it was just an accident, okay? When you remember, you'll understand… but you can even think of it as a joke, if you want," Astrid smiled into the phone uneasily, "a funny anecdote not to tell Peter."

"Now see here, miss," Walter said, frowning as he released his foot and let it drop to the tiled floor, "I'd say it's slightly offensive for you to pass off my more clever of attempts at recognition like this."

"You remember?"

"And a bit uncharacteristically bruising to my feelings, might I add. Not everything I do is for instant, irrelevant gratification. I thought that you might understand this," Walter said, rising to begin drawing circles (his favorite geometric shape) on the mirror with the soap bar, "apparently I was mistaken."

"No-Walter-" Astrid said, stopping in her foot travel in the hopes that somehow it would give her something more to reply with, "Walter, I-"

Walter tasted the soap, grimaced with bitterness and spat it out, "Peter does the same thing. Everyone always does the same damn thing. I'm mentally precarious, miss Annex, but that doesn't mean that I'm not completely capable of having feelings and interests, just like everyone else. Do I seem a separate species? Am I so foreign, in my objectives?"

"Walter, I didn't mean that-" Astrid stammered, shamefaced.

"Am I being a pity case, or simply an inconvenience?!" Walter snapped, and slammed the phone shut. He sighed, massaging his temples, immediately regretting his words, "You stupid, stupid old fool," he muttered, slouching against the door.

Elsewhere, Astrid lifted the phone away from her ear, blinking at it for a few moments in shock, "Walter…?" At length, she sighed, stowing the phone in her pocket and hunching her shoulders miserably. How in the hell had things gotten so ridiculously out-of-hand in the span of only a few days?

She kicked at a leaf with a frustrated curse.

Walter thudded his forehead on the wall with a tired groan.

Peter exclaimed with surprise at his game, trying to ignore the gnawing feel of suspicion at the back of his thoughts.

xXx