Finally actually getting into this fic. It is going to be rather Fly centric, but there's going to be a decent amount of Waige and Quintis in here too, because obviously all of them are at a critical point in their relationships. There's a bit of one of them to start out this bit.

Soft.

That was the only way Walter could think to describe the scene he was in. He wasn't even sure if it made sense. Soft, as an adjective, meant easy to mold, cut, compress, or fold; not hard or firm to the touch. Having a pleasing quality, involving a subtle effect or contrast.

That didn't make sense as an application to the light coming through the window, glinting harshly off of the pan on the counter. There wasn't, logically, anything pleasing about the small line of grime in the corners pf the countertops, a sign that no one had felt up to cleaning thoroughly. And he still had a slight headache from his ordeal less than two days before, eleven time zones away. To the naïve eye, or even perhaps to the knowing one, soft was not a word Walter had in the part of his vocabulary that described settings. And yet everything about this particular morning seemed soft.

Paige was studying her reflection in the refrigerator. "I knew it," she said, running a finger above her eyebrow. "I knew those days of not showering was going to make my face break out."

"Paige," he said, crossing the room and placing a hand gently on her back.

She straightened up, turning toward him. "You've never seen me with acne."

"Yes, I have."

"Not like this."

He genuinely had no idea why she was so upset. He wasn't blind, he could see the small spots she was stressed about, but as far as skin conditions were concerned, her outbreak was incredibly mild.

"Well," she added with a sigh, "now that I have a reason to be diligent about my pills again, I suppose I can also go back to not worrying about this."

Walter cupped her face and lowered his lips to hers. "You are," he said, kissing her again, "the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He moved his lips to her forehead, resting them there. She stepped closer and he pulled her in. "Oh, love."

Paige made a little sound in her throat. "God, when I'm in your arms I can so easily just forget we were ever apart."

He tightened his arms and bit his lower lip. "I suppose I'm the opposite. When I'm holding you I remember all the weeks my arms were empty."

"Aw." She was warm and solid and real against his chest. "I love that we can just slip back into this like none of it ever happened."

Walter released her and took a step back, studying her curiously.

"Walter?"

She was confused. But so was he. "Can we just slip back into things like this never happened?"

She shrugged, then frowned, as if regretting her expression immediately. "I mean…"

"All those things we said we had to work on…those things wouldn't exist in the front of our minds as things to improve if we hadn't been apart. And is it right to just brush those issues aside and go back to ignoring all the small problems until they get backed up like that drain in the lake?"

"No…"

"This isn't going to work again if we forget about our breakup. I would argue remembering is essential to us staying together." He realized he was breathing harder than just thirty seconds before. He recognized he was feeling irritable. He was losing a sudden battle with anxiety over the idea of losing her again. "Paige, we have to remember."

"Walter, Walter," she said, stepping closer and grabbing both his hands. "Breathe. It's okay. It's okay."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm being too literal again. Too analytical. I'm already messing this up."

"No." She shook her head, giving him that smile that was a combination of affection and amusement. "No, you're not. You're right. You just didn't understand what I was saying."

"Okay." He drew in a deep breath and let it out, slowly. "What were you saying?"

"That I love you. And that we can go back to that point. We don't have to start out like a new couple. We don't have to do first dates and getting to know one another and awkward nose bumping when we kiss. We were broken up. But now that we're back together, we're picking up, well, almost at least, where we left off." She smiled at him. "And I love that, Walter. I really do."

"Oh, yeah, okay." He nodded, giving her a nervous smile that he knew always looked more like a grin. "Yeah, I love that, too." He cleared his throat. "Although to be fair, we did start our relationship already in love with each other, and I don't recall any awkward nose bumping, and…" he trailed off when he saw her cock an eyebrow, relieved when he saw the smirk on her face that told him she wasn't upset. "I missed you, Pay."

She gave a little giggle. "I can't even begin to express how happy I am right now."

"You don't need to worry about that," he said. "I strongly suspect we're feeling the exact same way."

Florence's nerves evaporated into pure excitement as she and Sylvester chatted in between devouring the sandwiches and cole slaw they'd both ordered. Her favorite thing about him was how easy he was to talk to, and now she got to talk to him like this whenever she wanted, and she could reach across the table and briefly cover his hand if she wanted, and when he told a joke and she laughed she didn't have to go home and spend hours wondering why she'd laughed so, so hard at something that honestly wasn't that hilarious.

Although she did have to spend a moment, while chewing a mouthful of cole slaw, wondering how the heck she'd managed to convince herself she had feelings for Walter after that night of overanalyzing her response to Sylvester using a chemistry term as the punchline for a corny joke.

"You're about to lose your tomato," Sylvester said, bringing her back to the present.

She adjusted her sandwich to be more level, pushing what was left of the tomato more securely between the bread and the turkey. "Whoops."

"They really put a lot of food into these things," Sylvester said. "I always wondered if that was why Walter initially brought us here. Figured if we weren't going to remember to eat, might as well get a lot of nutrition packed into what we do consume."

"Efficient. Sounds like him."

"Sure does." He dabbed at the corner of his mouth. "So."

She frowned. "So?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking about this."

"You got really serious really fast."

"Sorry." He cleared his throat. "I was thinking on the way over here that maybe we could try to get to know each other a little better. Like we've talked a lot, but like…" He shrugged. "Not about stuff that couples talk about, I guess. But since we already know the basics, this can't be like a classic first date scenario."

"What if we each shared something that we think the other should know? Like, in terms of a relationship, something we wouldn't have necessarily told the other about before. When we were friends."

He raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. "Wow. That's a good one. Okay, do you want to go first, or should I?"

"Uh…how about you?" Florence realized she actually didn't have an idea of what to say on hand.

"Sure, sure." He thought a moment. "I assume you know I was married."

She nodded. "Yes. You told me."

"Right." He licked his lips. "She was my first girlfriend. She was every first I've had so far. So it's kinda unnerving moving forward, to have had your only relationship lead to marriage. I'm a math guy. And right now I have a one hundred percent success rate. And I know the odds of maintaining that are…well, very low. And that scares me. Most people have far less successful percentages which then actually ups their chances that each new relationship is going to last."

"Your logic seems odd at first glance, but I follow."

"Yeah, so that's basically it. What's yours?"

"Uh…" she hesitated. She had one in mind now, but actually bringing it up was a task. Because it was a big deal. Because it shouldn't be. "So, virginity is a social construct created to control women and shame them for sexual activity because realistically you are no different as a person if you haven't had sex just like you're no different whether or not you've had your hair dyed, or…or sushi." She paused for breath and feared that meant she'd been rambling. "But that first one, I haven't. Done that. I mean." She felt her face flush. "That was way too personal for a first date, wasn't it?"

He shook his head. "No. No. I know that's a big deal for some people. But you know I haven't either, so it's not like I would be weird about it."

Florence blinked in surprise. "You haven't?"

Sylvester cocked his head slowly. "So…you've missed all the virgin jokes that Toby makes?"

Florence gave a shrug, feeling awkward. "I assumed he was being an asshole."

"I mean, he was, but still."

"Oh." She cocked her head in the opposite direction. She had questions, but she was fairly sure they weren't appropriate to ask."

"Megan was sick," he said, which she knew, but then she realized he was answering one of those questions in her head. "It wasn't on either of our minds at the time, but she probably wouldn't have been able to."

"So we both…" she ran her finger around the top of her glass. "That makes me feel better. Like, less…inadequate?" She'd confessed to him in Europe that Ralph talking him up at ChemCon had made her feel, subconsciously, like she wasn't good enough. This alleviated that fear at least a little bit.

"Me too. I guess."

"I mean, I'm not…" Florence started.

"No, I know."

"Because it's not like we would, you know, today…"

"Of course not."

"I was – "

"Just saying," they said together.

Sylvester grinned. "Well. We got the awkward conversation out of the way."

"Well," she said, "we got my suggestion completed. Now what do you think we should share?"

He grew serious as he thought. "Hmm. How about…" he paused, setting his jaw. "How about we share something that worries us? Nip stuff in the bud, if we have any concerns, you know."

Florence nodded. "I like that." She cocked her head. "You clearly have something in mind."

He sighed, looking down at his hands.

"Is it…is it the thing we agreed on? About your feelings, and mine?" They'd talked, back in Europe, about how they knew they were going into this relationship in completely different places. He loved her. She was just discovering any sort of romantic feeling for him.

"No." He bit the inside of his cheek. "But it does have to do with your feelings."

She felt a pit settle in her stomach. "You're worried my feelings for Walter will come back."

He let out a quick but deep sigh that told her she was right. "It's just in the back of my mind."

She hated to see how bothered he was. "Sylvester…" she said, wanting to choose her words carefully but suddenly finding herself lacking an arsenal to choose from, "I…I don't know what to say to make you feel better about that."

"You don't have to say anything," he said. "You told me you were projecting onto him because he wasn't available. It makes sense. It's just that now he isn't available again. So…" he shook his head. "I just want you – I just need you to be honest with me. If you feel them coming back…"

"I will tell you," she said, "but they won't." She reached across the table and put her hand on his. "Sly. I know it must be weird dating someone who was confessing her feelings for someone else just a couple months ago, but you told me about Walter and Paige way back when, remember? How she was dating someone else just two months before they got together?"

"That was different," Sylvester said. "We all knew they were in love and her other relationship was just…it was just weird." He shook his head.

"I could argue the past few months have been a lot of just weird, too." She smiled. "Trust me. I've carried so much guilt. I wouldn't be here right now if I didn't like you like that."

"I know. And I know we just had this conversation the other day. I'm sorry for being redundant. So what's your concern?"

She didn't like how he brushed off his own worries. But she wasn't sure it was the time to keep pushing. "Well…" Actually, maybe it was exactly the time to keep focusing on his thing. Then she wouldn't have to share hers. "So back to what you were saying…"

"Nice try, Tipton."

"Dammit." She smirked at him, then grew serious again. "Okay. Here goes." She wrung her hands. "Your wife was your only relationship."

He nodded. "And I understand if that's weird for you."

"Sly, I'm older than you and the extent of my relationship experience was lip locking a couple people in college in situations I highly regretted almost immediately." She gave a dry laugh. My fear is that I won't measure up." She was surprised the words rushed from her lips so quickly and easily. "It seemed the relationship specific part of your lives was so beautiful and perfect – not the MS, obviously, but the relationship part. You'd mentioned the living with no regrets, and the joy you found in each other." She shook her head. "I don't know how to measure up to that. Or even come close." Pausing, Florence picked at her napkin. "I don't want to be the disappointing follow up to the love of your life."

"Megan is the love of my life," Sylvester said. "But that doesn't mean being with you is going to be disappointing. For years after her, I didn't think I could fall for someone again. I didn't think I wanted to. Then you showed up and you…you got all of my attention without even trying." He shook his head, smiling. "Watching Happy and Toby together, and Walter and Paige together, it made me believe there was only one person for everyone. But you've made me consider the possibility that maybe some people have their one, and other people have more than one chance at that feeling. That something extra feeling. The this is different from the other times feeling. I don't know if that makes any little bit of sense to you, but it does to me."

"I don't know what," Florence said after a long pause, "but I felt something when you said that."

"Yeah? Good?"

"Yeah, I think so."

He smiled. "Good. Can I say something?"

"Of course."

"The fact that that's your fear makes me feel better about mine. Like, I'm less worried now. And I feel bad – selfish even – for saying that. But…"

"But if I want to be good enough, my subconscious isn't telling me I should be somewhere else." She nodded. "You forget I have a brain that works that way, too. I would feel the exact same way if I was you. And you know what? I kinda do." She smiled. "Because your fear makes me feel better about mine. A little. I'm still worried you'll become disillusioned with me and I doubt that will fully fade any time soon. However, if you were so scared to feel a way again and I've made you feel that way, maybe I won't be a disappointment." She frowned. "Could you follow that? I feel like I'm talking in circles."

"I felt like I was."

"I followed you, though."

"Same here," he assured her.

"Good."

They smiled at each other. Sylvester reached across the table and took her hand. "It's only a start," he said, "but I think we're off to a good one."

Hope you're all enjoying this so far. Authors love reviews. ;)