Chapter twelve

"Where are we going, son?" Walter asked eagerly as they mounted the stone steps to the walkway on the grounds of the university. A sudden cold spell, hinting at the upcoming fall, had forced the uncomfortable inside, and the Bishop men found themselves almost alone, save the odd student crossing their path unheedingly in a dash to get back inside.

"Walter, I need to talk to you," Peter said seriously as they walked.

"Oh? I'll be blessed with a conversation, then? Shoot, son, shoot, this is progress!" Walter looked as if the day couldn't get any better as he had to hurry to keep up with Peter's long strides.

"We're both pretty smart guys, Walter," Peter said reasonably, "I mean, excluding the fact that you're…well, you're nuts, Walter."

"Um-hmm."

"What I mean to say is that we're both smart enough to know that something is going on."

"Oh, Peter, I'm sorry. You're just not my type," Walter joked, "but that Broyles fellow- he's a tall drink of water, isn't he?"

"Walter, be serious for ten damn seconds," Peter snapped, stopping his father by the shoulder. They stood in silence on the outdoor terrace for a few moments, breath fogging slightly, "what happened between you and Astrid, yesterday?" Peter asked at last.

Walter contemplated for a few seconds, turning to begin picking at a chip of paint on a pillar, "Nothing," he replied.

"Bullshit. You can't be as pokerfaced as she is, you and I both know it-"

"No," Walter interrupted, glancing up at his son, "I can be even worse." he returned to picking at the paint absently.

"This isn't fair, Walter," Peter said, his hands balling into fists in his pockets, "whatever happened completely screwed everything up, and now she's avoiding me at every turn. What did you do?"

"Mighty protective, boy," Walter said, frowning as he pried off the chip. He examined it in his fingernail, "Do you think I hurt her, or something? Do you think I'm capable of something like that?" he flicked the debris away, onto the cement, crushing it under his shoe.

"I don't know what you're capable of, Walter, that's why I'm asking," Peter growled.

"Exactly. I don't think anyone really knows what I'm capable of, I don't even think I do," he glared up at Peter, "But that's my goddamn business, isn't it?"

"Walter," Peter warned darkly, returning his glare, "If you did anything-"

"Are you thinking of getting physical, then? Peter, I'd be sooner to sever my own leg with a table knife than do you or her any harm. I know my place, and I overstepped it- I apologize. But don't think you know everything about me, or even close to enough to even remotely anticipate my methods; I'm only human. Just like you. Just like her. Just like anyone in this damn place."

"You like her, is that it?" Peter questioned, at last moving to confirm his suspicions.

"I do."

They were silent for another few minutes.

"Is it like a crush, or something?"

"Probably. I don't know."

More silence.

"She's really cute. I guess I understand."

"You have your old man's taste, son."

"Oh, shut up, you pervert."

They smiled at one another.

"So, is she a tall drink of water, then? I never got that term, actually. It's pretty retro."

"No, that term is reserved for one of Agent Broyles' disposition, and sheer stature. No, I'd say she's more like…" Walter considered, "A cherry float. Perhaps."

Peter laughed, "I don't even want to think into that analogy. Come on, Walter, let's finish our walk."

"I have to warn you that it's probable that she'll turn out to be a biter. Speaking from experience," Walter said with a hint of color as they strode off, Peter with his arm around his father's shoulders.

xXx

Astrid was running a brush over Gene's soft hide in her deep thoughts when something struck the Plexiglas panel of the lab door, and she froze with dread. She hadn't had enough time to even remotely come to any sort of conclusion, in her questions, even as both of the Bishops had been gone for a good part of the afternoon.

Astrid straitened, brushing her hands on the front of her jeans and taking a deep breath.

The door burst open, Walter fleeing before it, "Base, base! I touched base!" he cried, diving for immediate cover behind a table.

"I'mm'a kill you, you bastard!" Peter bellowed, charging into the lab after him.

"Whoa!" Astrid yelled, stepping in to intercept Peter in his rampage, "Peter, just calm down! Calm down!"

"I'll be damned if I calm down! The son of a bitch hit me in the back! It's against the rules!" Peter tried to shift around Astrid to get to his cowering father, "Get out here and face me like a man, damn you!"

Astrid continued to block him, "Peter, it was just a kiss!" She cried hopelessly.

Peter paused, "A what?"

"A kiss! And-and it was more like an accident, actually! But not! I mean-"

Peter's brows shot up on his forehead, "Really, Walter?"

Walter nodded, peeking over the table.

Peter smiled, "Smooth bastard," he murmured.

Walter threw another acorn at him, setting Peter into another rage, "No fair! You can't keep throwing while I'm distracted, it's against the rules!"

"You can't hit me when I touch base!" Walter retorted, and they continued to delve into their pockets, hurling handfuls round, hard, brown acorns at each other, missing entirely as the seeds bounced and clattered off the lab equipment.

Astrid felt heat touch her features, "Are you two playing a game with acorns?!" She demanded, furious, "here I am, all set to break up a huge fight, and you dumb asses are throwing crap at each other?! Go to hell, both of you!" she stooped to grab up a few acorns, throwing them.

"I'm on base! You're breaking the rules!" Walter insisted, laughing as he evaded her projectiles.

"Astrid's on my team!" Peter said, delighted.

"No, she's on my team! She's my assistant! There's just a disagreement in the ranks!"

"I'm not on either of your stupid teams, you idiots!" Astrid stormed off, slamming the door of Gene's stall behind her. She leaned back against it, grinning from ear to ear.

xXx