Author's note: This chapter ends in a cliffhanger that's really not much of a cliffhanger since I dropped some pretty unsubtle hints in the last chapter. I've actually been dropping hints about this scenario since the middle of "Aftershocks". *Insert maniacal laughter here*

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Paige was wrapped up in Walter's arms, his face pressed against her neck. "I wish I could go with you," she said.

The mission didn't appear to be much of a risk on paper; a bank needing their forensic expertise in capturing an elusive embezzler, along with beefing up their security. But Scorpion had a knack for finding danger in the most benign situations. And she worried about not being there, in case something went wrong and he. . . Biting back a sob, she tried to stuff her anxiety into a far corner of her mind.

"I know you don't like being sidelined," he said, pulling away and kissing her forehead. "But we really don't need you this time."

"Wow, just what every girl wants to hear," she grumbled.

His eyes widened, giving him a deer in the headlights expression and she had to suppress a giggle. "Oh, I didn't mean. . ."

"I know you didn't." She sighed. "It's just. . ." She glanced over her shoulder at the turquoise trailer.

His eyes followed hers. "Maybe you and your mom can. . .you know. . .have a talk. . ." he said earnestly.

"Probably not a good idea." Paige took a step back and rested her arms across the top of her stomach. "I'm not supposed to get stressed, remember? Dealing with her is nothing but a big ball of stress."

Walter rubbed her belly. "I'm sorry," he said.

"It's definitely not your fault." Wanting to change the subject, her gaze wandered over to where Happy was assembling her tools as Toby hovered around her. Paige could almost feel the mechanic's annoyance from across the building.

"What's up with Toby?" she asked. "Happy looks like she's about to bean him with a wrench."

She watched as Walter's mouth tightened for a second. "No idea," he replied with a shrug. "We need to get going." He put his arms around her. "I love you."

Leaning in, he kissed her gently on the lips. Paige's toes curled as heat swirled through her. "I love you, too," she said when he lifted his head. "You be careful, okay?"

"I will." He slung his backpack over one shoulder before taking her hand as they walked toward the door, where the rest of the team had assembled. With one last squeeze of her fingers, he followed the others outside, tossing one last lingering gaze over his shoulder before disappearing from sight.

"Wow, he's got it bad for you, honey."

Paige slowly turned around to see her mother sauntering up behind her. Her hair and makeup were flawless, her rhinestone studded flip flops showcasing her bright red toenails. She was wearing the silky light blue robe Ray had left behind, and from what Paige could tell. . .nothing else.

Paige rolled her eyes. "Mom, put on some clothes."

Veronica glanced down at her outfit. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing? All the naughty bits are covered."

Paige closed her eyes and counted to ten. "This is a business, Mom. We need to be professional. People work here."

"And I seemed to have just missed them," said the older woman with a disappointed sag of her shoulders. She mumbled something Paige thought sounded like 'that handsome federal agent'.

Paige let the comment slide as she had another battle to fight. "I know it's been awhile since you've taken care of a child," she said, unable to keep the bitterness from her tone, "but instead of sleeping in, you were supposed to make sure Ralph ate breakfast and got to school on time. He missed his carpool and he would've been tardy if Walter and I hadn't come in early."

"He told me he didn't need any help when I asked," Veronica said with a wave of her hand. "Said he'd grab something to eat at school. By the time you were his age, you got off to school on your own without my help. Kids these days are so. . ."

"How would you know I didn't need any help? You were bouncing around from scam to scam. . . In and out of jail. . . Staying out all night and dragging your sorry ass back home at dawn. . ." Her belly tightened and she had to draw in a deep breath. "It would have been really nice to have a mother like the other moms. You know, the ones who actually cared about their kids."

"I had no idea you felt that way. I'm sorry, honey." Veronica clutched the lapels of her robe together.

"I've heard that before," said Paige, her vision growing blurry.

Her mom sat down on a chair next to the trailer. "I really am sorry. I just wasn't cut out to be a damn suburban Stepford wife who wore pearls while I vacuumed the living room."

Paige lowered herself carefully into a nearby chair. "Then why did you even try?" Sympathy rose within her, as undeserving as it was. She had no desire to stay home and vacuum either, with or without pearls.

"Because your father swept me off my feet," the older woman said with a sigh. "And when I got pregnant, he talked me into keeping the baby and getting married."

"Wait. . . Keep the baby?" Oh, God, had her mother thought about not keeping her? She'd been in jeopardy of not being born?

"Oh, it wasn't you," Veronica said, no doubt noticing her distress. "I had a miscarriage about a month after the wedding. I didn't get pregnant with you until a couple of months later."

Silence hung in the air as Paige digested her mother's revelations. She could understand not wanting to be trapped into marriage, but. . . The thought of not having Ralph had never crossed her mind. She placed her hand on her stomach. Or this one either. Neither of them had been planned but she'd loved both of them from the moment she learned of their existence. And she'd do anything for them.

Unlike the cold callous woman who raised her. Scratch that, the woman who'd grudgingly gave birth to her then pretty much let her fend for herself.

"I really like your Walter. He's one of the good guys," Veronica said, disturbing Paige's already disturbed thoughts. "I never did care much for Drew. It was obvious he was a no-good flake."

"You only met him once," Paige pointed out, not mentioning she barely knew Walter either.

"Yeah, but that was enough to get a bead on him." Her mother pushed herself out of her chair. "It's a knack I have. You don't stay in the business I'm in for long if you can't read people. Now, what do I have to do to get a cup of coffee around here?"

Paige clumsily got to her feet. "I have work to do," she said. "There's a pot on in the kitchen. Help yourself. That is what you do best."

She waddled off toward her desk, but not before she saw the shaken expression on her mother's face.

ooooo

It had been one of those days, when simple tasks became impossible, and the impossible seemed so simple. They'd caught the embezzler, but not before the woman had threatened to blow up the bank vault where she'd trapped several people inside, including the bank manager, Happy, and Walter.

He relived the tense moments as he helped Paige dish up the Chinese takeout they'd picked up on the way home. She didn't like eating out the cardboard containers, insisting it was too messy and made it hard to share. Of course, he acquiesced to her wishes, appreciative he'd made it back to her in one piece.

Plus he'd noted she was in a grumpy mood, having spent most of the day with her mom. Thankfully Veronica had decided to look up some old friends and had made plans to go out with them that evening. Walter could relate to Paige's dilemma. He loved his parents, but it was hard to be around them, especially his dad. There was no commonality between them other than the fact they shared DNA. And now that Megan was gone. . . There was nothing holding them together anymore.

"Got you the barbecued pork you like, Ralph," said Paige as she set down a plate on the table, breaking into his depressing thoughts. He was surprised when the boy only grunted in reply.

"Well, I'm starving," Walter said, placing a bowl of fried rice next to the pork. Letting Paige use his arm for balance as she sat down, he waited until she was comfortable before taking his own seat.

They ate in relative silence, all of them tired from the long and exhausting day. Walter frowned as he watched Ralph twirl noodles with his fork, allowing them to slid back onto his plate before swirling them again.

"Mom?"

Paige had been about to stuff a spoonful of teriyaki chicken into her mouth. "What, sweetie?"

"Why didn't you and my dad get married?"

Walter nearly choked on his own mouthful of food. Reaching for his glass of water, he took a large sip.

"Because he never asked me," Paige replied. Her face had paled and he could see her eyes starting to shimmer.

"Oh." The boy's expression was hard to read, especially for someone with low EQ. But Walter thought he saw sadness, with an underlying layer of vulnerability. Those were two emotions he was more than familiar with.

"Why do you want to know?" asked Paige.

Ralph shrugged. "Some kids at school saw you and Walter dropping me off this morning."

"What does that have to do with Drew?"

"They wanted to know if Walter was my dad."

"Oh." Walter watched as Paige's expression started to match her son's. "What did you tell them?" she asked. He could hear the hesitation in her voice.

"I said no, he wasn't my dad, and he wasn't my stepdad, that he was. . ." Ralph set down his fork and sighed. "Forget it."

"No, honey," she said softly. "If something's bothering you, you know you can tell me. . .tell us. . ." She put her hand on Walter's shoulder. He reached up and grasped her fingers, giving them what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

Sighing wearily, the boy genius continued, "I told him Walter was your boyfriend and that you and my dad hadn't been married either. And then they said. . ." His voice trailed off as he stared down at his food.

"What did they say, Ralph?"

Walter could see the youngster really didn't want to tell his mother what had been said. Kids could be so cruel. He'd learned early on to ignore the jokes and jibes which came his way because he was different. But even though he'd developed a thick hide, it didn't mean the insults and harassment didn't hurt.

"That you must be a real slut to have two kids with two different guys and not be married." The words had been spoken swiftly all in one breath, but Walter could easily comprehend each one.

He glanced over at Paige. She'd closed her eyes, the tears which had been threatening before now dampening her lashes. Abruptly, and with more grace than her pregnant body usually allowed, she stood up and fled the dining room.

Walter froze, unsure of what to do. Obviously Paige needed consoling, but Ralph looked like he was about to be sick. Deciding to deal with the more urgent matter at hand, he cleared his throat.

"Are these kids your friends, Ralph?" he asked. The boy shook his head.

"No, just some guys in my homeroom."

"Don't pay attention to them," Walter advised. "They're just bullies. Besides, marriage is an archaic institution which started with fathers selling their daughters to the highest bidder. It goes back to a time when women were considered property to be bartered."

When Ralph didn't reply, instead continuing to stare down at his untouched meal, Walter added, "I do love your mom. And you. And I would never willing leave you." It was true. He didn't need a piece of paper to tell him to stay.

He could tell by the boy's face his statements didn't placate him. "I think my mom wants to marry you," Ralph declared, gazing at him challengingly. "At least I think she'd like to be asked." He pushed his plate away. "I'm sorry," he said, "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's not your fault, buddy." Dammit, the kid was near tears. Walter tried to smile at him, but it felt more like a grimace. "I should have picked up on the clues before now. Not much of a genius, am I?" he asked in a joking manner, trying to lighten the mood.

Ralph ignored his feeble attempt at humor. "If marriage wasn't such an archaic institution, would you marry my mom?" he pressed.

Walter mulled over the question. Marriage had changed over the millennia, evolving into a bond between two people who loved each other. A bond he realized he wanted in the strongest possible way to tie him to Paige. . .and Ralph. Which meant he had to first take care of some unpleasant and complicated business.

"Yes, I want to marry your mom," he stated with conviction, "and I want us to be a family."

Ralph's whole demeanor changed as he grinned happily before stabbing a piece of his barbecued pork.

ooooo

Walter had cleared the table, packed up the leftover food, washed the dishes, and sent Ralph to bed before entering the bedroom he shared with Paige. He should have checked on her earlier. But he didn't know how to comfort her, not when he couldn't say what she wanted to hear.

She was lying on her right side, still wearing the shirt and yoga pants she'd worn all day, the rise and fall of her chest indicated she was either asleep or doing an excellent job of faking it. Her face still bore the traces of the tears she undoubtedly had cried because of his insensitivity.

He stripped down to his underwear and slid in beside her, pulling up the sheet to cover them both. She stirred a bit restlessly as he kissed her forehead.

"I love you," he murmured against her skin.

He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. As tired as he was, he knew he wouldn't get much rest that night.

ooooo

"Hey, Happy, got a minute?"

Walter had waited until everyone else had found something to busy themselves with before approaching the mechanic the next morning. She glanced up from the motorcycle carburetor she was rebuilding.

"Maybe. What do you want?"

"Uh, my car is making a weird noise," he said loud enough for the others to hear. "I was wondering if you could come take a look at it?"

She shrugged. "Sure, why not." She set down her wrench and followed him outside.

"There's nothing wrong with my car," he announced once the door had closed behind them. "But there is a problem."

"It's too damn early to be speaking in riddles, O'Brien," she growled. "I noticed the waitress giving you the stink eye this morning. What the hell have you done now?"

"Nothing," he said defensively. "Not directly anyway."

"Dammit, Walt." Happy raised a clenched fist and he took a step back. "Just spill it."

"We need to get a divorce."