Author's note: Omg, I'm so sorry I haven't been posting much lately. I'm dealing with some physical and mental health issues that are really making it difficult to get much of anything done. I keep hoping things get better soon and I can get back to posting more often. Thanks for your patience and for your continued support.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Oh, look at these!" Paige waved an impossibly tiny pair of shoes in the air.

Walter glanced over at Ralph, who was rolling his eyes. The boy genius appeared to be about as thrilled as he was about shopping for the baby. But it was something which needed to be done and Walter wanted to support Paige in anyway he could.

She tossed the shoes into the nearly overflowing cart. He was amazed at the ever growing number of tiny clothes and mystifying apparatus she was adding to it. Ralph shook his head.

"He won't even be able to walk for almost a year," the youngster whispered as Paige exclaimed over a onesie. "Why does he need shoes?"

"I don't know," Walter replied as he wondered the same thing.

"How can one small infant need so much stuff?" Ralph complained, not bothering to keep his voice down this time.

"Most of the clothes will be outgrown in a matter of weeks," Walter pointed out, slightly disturbed by the fact he now knew what exactly a onesie was. "They're really not. . ."

His observation ground to a halt at the sound of a sob escaping Paige's throat. Walter looked up to see tears glistening in her eyes as she clutched the small garment she held to her chest.

He glanced at Ralph, who stared back at him. "Paige. . ." "Mom. . ." they said at the same time. "I'm sorry," Walter continued as Ralph nodded and added, "Me, too."

"It's okay," she sniffed. "I know I'm going a little overboard but. . ." She waved her hand over the cart. "Babies are messy. You used to go through several outfits a day, Mister," she announced as she ruffled her son's hair. "I was always washing your clothes because I barely had anything for you."

"That's not true," the boy said. "You had plenty of love for me."

"Oh, God. . ." She burst into tears.

Walter and Ralph exchanged glances once again, and he could see the youngster appeared to be as baffled as he was. "Paige. . . I'm sorry. . ."

"No, I'm not upset," she explained, reaching into her purse and pulling out a tissue. "That was the perfect thing to say, Ralph." She kissed the top of his head, and even though Walter could see the boy's face reddened, he didn't move away.

"You can get whatever you think we'll need for the baby," Walter stated, bowing to her superior knowledge of onesies and diapers.

"What this baby really needs is a name," she said, dabbing at her still streaming eyes.

"I know," he agreed, even though so far they couldn't agree on one. "Maybe we should. . ."

"Is his last name going to be O'Brien?

Ralph's query startled both of them. Walter glanced over at Paige. Of course, he hoped she would eventually choose his surname. He couldn't explain why it was important to him their child bore his last name. It just was. And as disquieting as it was, he was leaving the decision up to her

"I don't know. Probably," she replied, and Walter's concern lifted a little. "Why do you ask?"

"Drew contacted me the other morning," said the youngster, looking uneasily at the floor. "I forgot to tell you."

Paige crossed her arms over her stomach. "We can discuss that later. What did he want?"

"He wanted to know what he could do to make up for abandoning us," Ralph stated. "As if anything really could." The boy genius shook his head. "I ask him to let Walter adopt me so we could all have the same last name and be a real family. He said no."

Walter was stunned, yet filled with joy. Adopting Ralph was an idea he'd kept buried in the back of his mind for several months. A hope he didn't know would ever be feasible. That Ralph had been thinking along similar lines. . . He pressed his lips together tightly to stem the wave of emotions he was experiencing from pouring out.

Paige had no such qualms as she started crying once again. "Oh, God," she said through sobs. "I'm going to run out of tears if I keep this up."

Drawing her into an embrace, Walter knew lecturing her on how the flood of estrogen and progesterone being released into her system was causing her mood swings would only upset her again. So he stayed silent.

He was occupied with rubbing her back when someone else pressed up against them, wrapping an arm around his waist. Ralph.

"Sorry, Mom," the boy said, glancing up at them. "I realize the baby department at Target is probably not the best place for this discussion."

'No, it's not," she said through sniffs. "I'm sorry, too. I know I've been hard to live with the last few weeks and I wish I could promise you both it'll get better but it's not. Not for awhile yet."

"It's okay." Ralph hugged them tightly then let go. "I've been reading up on the later stages of pregnancy," he stated, "and what you're experiencing is pretty normal. In fact. . ."

Walter suppressed a grin as the youngster told Paige about hormonal fluctuations and other phenomenon related to the third trimester. He should have been bothered she meekly accepted explanations from her son rather than him on the same subject but he wasn't. Their bond was much stronger and always would be. If anything, he envied their relationship, as it was the exact opposite of the one he'd had with his parents.

And that was just as much his fault as it was theirs. Placing his hand on Paige's belly, he vowed he would strive to be the best father he could be, whether this child was a genius or not.

"I'm tired," Paige announced, interrupted his musings. "I think we've done enough shopping for today."

Walter heartily agreed with Ralph's muttered "Oh, thank goodness" as he pushed the heavy cart toward the check out.

ooooo

"Whoa, did you guys buy every baby bootie in the store?" Toby asked as Paige, Walter, and Ralph walked into the garage, each loaded down with several bags.

"No," replied Paige, setting the sacks she carried on her desk with a sigh. "We only got about half of what we need. We still need car seats and a high chair and a crib and. . ."

"Uh, you don't have to worry about the crib," said Happy as she stepped forward, flipping up the visor of her welding helmet. "I made one for you."

"Really?" Paige could feel tears forming in her eyes again. Damn hormones anyway. "That's just. . .wow."

"Yeah, well." The mechanic's cheeks darkened as she pulled a sheet off something next to her workstation. "It's made of stainless steel."

Paige waddled closer. "Stainless steel?" Seemed like an odd choice of material for a crib.

"It doesn't splinter and it won't break. The tubes are hollow, not solid, so they're not any harder than wooden spindles would be," explained Happy. "And here, check this out." She pointed to a pair of buttons then pressed the top one. The mattress began to rise upward.

"That's genius," Walter said as he came over to stand beside Paige. "No bending and lifting." He placed his hand on the small of her back, rubbing it gently.

"Plus it doubles as a changing table," the mechanic said, pausing for a moment before listing the rest of the crib's features..

"Happy, it's incredible. Thank you," said Paige. She nudged Walter, who mumbled his gratitude.

"It's from both of us," Toby chimed in.

The mechanic glared at him. "And just how much work did you put into it?"

"I suggested adding the rocking motion," the shrink said defensively.

"You did." Happy still frowned at him. "Fine, it's from both of us."

Paige was touched the other woman had taken the time to design such a wonderful gift for them. They'd almost bought one that afternoon, the lack of space in the car the only reason why they hadn't. But this one was so much better than anything they could have purchased at a chain store.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she barely registered Cabe striding over to the turquoise trailer and stepping inside, coming back out a moment later carrying a cloth covered rectangle. "I guess since we're having a impromptu baby shower, I might as well give you guys this," he said.

"What is it?" Toby asked as he made a grab at the cloth.

"Not for you," growled the agent, shifting it away from the behaviorist's grasp. "It's for the baby. Here." He thrust it at Walter.

Wondering what on earth it could be, Paige glanced at Walter, whose slight grin told her he'd already guessed. Unable to contain her curiosity, she pulled away the stained fabric, revealing a painting of the night sky, filled with stars and planets, and featuring a remarkably detailed space shuttle.

"Oh, my god, Cabe," she gasped. "It's beautiful."

"Thanks." The older man blushed. "I know it's not shuttle blueprints. . ." The corner of his mouth twitched as he looked over at Walter. "I hope it's okay, Son. Ralph told me about your plans for the nursery and I thought. . . I'd already started it before you went into space and. . . "

"It's all right," Walter replied with a smile. "My, uh, adventure in Elia's rocket hasn't dampened my enthusiasm for space exploration."

But Paige noticed his face grew grim. Thinking about his unscheduled rocket launch and his close call with death scared the hell out of her. And because of that, they'd never really talked about it and how it must have affected him as well. She knew he'd probably say it didn't bother him, but judging by his expression, she knew it wasn't true.

Deciding it was discussion for another time, she changed the subject, saying to Cabe, "I didn't know you painted."

"Used to when I was a kid," the agent replied, ignoring Toby's muttered "yeah, on cave walls" comment. "Guess I still have a knack for it."

"You certainly do. Thank you." Paige leaned over and kissed the older man on the cheek.

"Um, I have something too." Sylvester got to his feet and bent down, lifting a large cardboard box from behind his desk.

"A plain brown box?" Toby smirked. "Those usually result in a baby."

"What are you talking about?" asked Sly, a bewildered look on his face as the shrink's innuendo flew over his head. "The box is not the gift."

"Toby," Paige warned with a nod toward Ralph, who appeared to be as confused as the human calculator.

The behaviorist had the decency to look ashamed. "Sorry," he said. "So what is it?"

"It's heavy," said Sylvester as he carried it over to Walter's work station before setting it down.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know," Paige muttered to Toby.

"But satisfaction brought it back," the shrink replied. "That's the whole quotation," he explained. "Most people don't know that part." He grinned at her.

She rolled her eyes as Walter revealed another box inside the one he'd just opened. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's an autoclave," stated Sly.

Walter pointed up at his loft. "I already have one in my lab."

"I know, but you've used it for cleaning things that had mouse urine. . ." The younger genius shuddered, obviously disgusted Walter would commit such an atrocity.

"What is an autoclave?" asked Paige, not quite keeping the frustration from her voice.

"It uses extremely high temperatures, steam, and pressure to sterilize items," Sylvester told her.

"Oh." Knowing how germaphobic he was, his gift made sense, even though things could probably get just as clean in a dishwasher. "Thanks, Sly," she said with a smile.

Toby cleared his throat. "Well, since this is turning into a party, why don't we order some pizzas and break out some sodas."

"We should play some games," suggested Sylvester. "Although I don't know any which would be appropriate for a baby shower." He smiled warily at Paige. "I could look some up online."

"Guys. . ." she began before being overwhelmed by their thoughtfulness, her eyes growing damp once again.

"Come on, it'll be fun," said the psychiatrist. "You and Walt could use a little fun in your lives."

"Okay, why not?." Paige turned to look at Walter, who didn't appear to be thrilled but seemed resigned.

"All right then!" Toby whipped out his phone to order the food. "I suppose Big Brain wants anchovies on his pizza?"

"Hey, anchovies are rich in Omega-3 fatty acids. . ." Walter began before the shrink cut in.

"Yeah, but they can contain high levels of mercury. . ."

Tuning out Walter and Toby as they argued about the health benefits of fish, Paige decided she should help Sylvester come up with some games, with the hope they'd be more traditional than the ones the geniuses usually came up with. "Dang it," she said as she dug around in her purse for her cell and came up empty. "Ralph, can you go see if my phone is in the car?"

"Sure, Mom." He headed out the door as she waddled her way over to Sly's desk.

She'd almost made it across the room when Ralph dashed back inside. "Did you find it?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "There's a woman outside sitting in her car talking on her phone."

"Oh, God," Paige said, protectively clutching her belly. "What did she look like?"

"I dunno," the boy shrugged. "I didn't get a good look at her because she rolled up her window. I think I scared her. She was probably about Grandma's age. But it wasn't Grandma. I'd recognize her."

"Oh, God," she repeated, glancing over at Walter and seeing the matching panic on his face.