Author's note: I've been participating in an annual tournament (my 8th straight year) on another site this month that's been sucking a lot of my time. Writing has kind of taken a back seat. I should get back on track after the 25th.
I've think I've written from Cabe's POV once or twice, but only a sentence or two. It's considerably more in this chapter. Hopefully I've done him justice. And I have to give some credit to my daughter Alex again. Toby's shenanigans later in this chapter are part of a story she and I came up with years ago for another character we'd created while getting ready for school in the morning. She's given me her blessing to use it here.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Paige stared at Walter, knowing his mortified expression matched her own. She was suddenly aware she was naked, a fact that hadn't bothered her only moments earlier. Probably because only moments before, Walter had dropped a bombshell she hadn't had time to recover from before Happy's interruption.
"Uh, I-I'd better go." Walter started to slide out of the bed, stopping as he came to the same realization she had, doing a double take at his lap. Pulling on the sheet to cover himself, he searched for his clothes.
An awkward silence filled the room as they both got dressed. Walter's confession had blown her mind. He'd been so wonderful, she certainly wouldn't have believed it had been his first time if he hadn't told her. He only stated facts, so it had to be true. It had been nearly a decade since she'd had sex, maybe she'd been too wrapped up in her own insecurities to detect any inexperience on his part.
She had noticed he'd been a lot more confident the second time. . .and the third. Whatever aversion he'd had to physical contact appeared to flown out the window, at least where she was concerned. Smiling as she remembered how he'd responded to her touch, she glanced at him. He was tucking his t-shirt into his jeans when he suddenly jammed his hand in his pocket and his face paled.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Uh, I. . . We. . ." He dug further down into his pocket. What the hell did he have in there? she wondered. Only one way to find out. . .
She moved around the bed to stand in front of him, tugging his arm upward, then plunged her hand into the pocket. Pulling out its contents, she tossed the condom packages on the bed. Oh, God, there had to be at least seven or eight of them scattered over the bedspread. Lifting her eyes, she saw Walter's face had gone from white to bright red.
"Somebody was optimistic," she said tongue-in-cheek, biting her lip to keep from giggling.
"I, uh, I. . ." He was staring at the floor, still blushing furiously. "I-I didn't know w-which. . ." He paused to take a breath. "I didn't know w-which kind to get. I've n-never. . . I-I'm sorry. . ."
"It's all right, Walter." Feeling bad for teasing him, she slipped her arms around neck. "I'm on the pill. For other reasons than just birth control," she added, seeing his questioning glance. She swept her hand over the packets on the bed. "It's actually kind of sweet you even thought about it."
"Oh, um, okay." He closed his eyes for a moment as he frowned. "I-I. . .I should probably go."
"I don't want you to." She pressed herself against him, tangling her fingers through his curls
"I don't want to either." His breathing grew harsher. "But. . .but I need to go."
Paige lightly kissed his lips. "I know," she sighed as she released him. "It's going to be hours before I'll see you again."
"I know," he replied, absently rubbing the back of his neck. "So-so. . .w-what does this mean?"
"What does what mean?"
"This." He gestured toward the bed then between the two of them. "Are we. . .are we together? Like a couple?"
"Do you want us to be a couple?" she asked, even though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.
"Yes," he declared before she'd even finished the question. Then he drew back, aiming his gaze at the floor. "I-If that's what y-you want."
"I want us to be together too." Sensing he needed some reassurance, Paige threw her arms around him. "I love you, Walter," she whispered into his ear.
"I love you too."
"You really were amazing. I never would have guessed." She nipped his earlobe as she twirled one of his curls around her finger.
"Y-You don't have to-to say that. . ."
"Walter," she interrupted. "It may have been awhile since I've. . .done it, but I still know when it's great. You were wonderful." As he parted his lips to reply, she pressed her mouth to his, slipping her tongue inside to tangle with his. A groan escaped him as his hands settled on the small of her back.
Three more loud knocks rang out, followed once again by Happy's pissed off voice. "Dammit, O'Brien. Last warning. If I have to come back again, I'm coming in whether you two are decent or not."
They sprang apart like guilty schoolchildren "I-I'd b-better go." He glanced anxiously at the condoms scattered on the bed and made a move to pick them up.
"I'll hang on to those," she said, hurriedly gathering them. "Your pocket is probably not the best place to store them."
Walter nodded as he stared down at the floor. "Okay." Grabbing his flannel shirt, he slipped it on and took a step toward the door.
"Wait." She wrapped her arms around him again, feeling the solidness of his body, breathing in his scent, wishing they didn't have to part. "I love you."
Something inside her melted as he grinned at her. "I love you too." She wasn't sure who moved first, but the resulting kiss left her breathless and weak in the knees. It wasn't until she heard the door knob rattling that she reluctantly let him go.
Walter took a deep breath, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder as he walked out of the room, knowing if he did, he'd never leave. He opened the door, surprising a very determined Happy, who had been jimmying a corner of the card lock apparatus.
"About time, dumbass," the mechanic said as he shut the door behind him. "And hey, thanks."
"For what?" he asked, wondering if she'd won another bet.
"For not making me see you and the waitress naked. That would have scarred me for life." She smirked as she stashed her tools inside her jacket. "Did Paige manage to clone Mr Sleazeball's phone last night before you two got freaky?"
"She did." He patted his jeans pocket which held the device. "I've already sent the info to Sly." Walter glanced behind him as they headed for the elevator. Paige might think she was done with Yuri, but that didn't mean the band leader was done with her. The worry the tall Russian would continue to sexually harass the liaison almost caused him to turn back around.
"So. . .it must have been nice to sleep in an actual bed," Happy said, interrupting his thoughts as she pushed the down arrow.
"It was nice." His mouth curled into a smile. "Although we didn't sleep all that . . Oof."
The mechanic drove her shoulder into his arm, knocking him off balance. "Ew, shut up." Glancing up at him, she added, "and wipe that goofy grin off your face, Groupie Boy, or everyone will know you got laid."
"Groupie Boy?"
"You sleep with a band member, you're a groupie."
"But it was Paige. She's not really a band member."
"Yeah, whatever, Groupie Boy." She rolled her eyes as the elevator doors opened to reveal the band's manager.
"Oh, good," said Darby as he hustled out into the hallway. "Where the rest of you?" He was wearing another of his old fashioned suits in a plaid so garish it hurt Walter's eyes, along a sheen of perspiration on his broad forehead and a slightly frantic expression.
Figuring he meant the other roadies, Walter pointed toward the suite where the party had been the night before. The older man nodded. "You two, get to venue. They want us out now, not later." He reached into his jacket, taking out his wallet. and holding out a twenty dollar bill. "Go now. Take taxi."
"Uh, sure," said Happy, palming the money.
"Good, good." Darby bustled past them down the hall.
Walter glanced over at Happy, who shrugged as she stepped into the elevator. "Come on, Groupie Boy. I need a cup of coffee before I do anything else this morning."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I prefer 'noob'." He jabbed the button for the ground floor as the doors closed.
ooooo
Meanwhile, earlier that morning back at the garage, Cabe walked down the stairs from the loft, wanting to snag a cup of coffee before having to drive Ralph to his day camp. Today was the first day and the youngster had been enthusiastically singing its praises the previous evening. He figured the kid would be chomping at the bit to head out.
Instead, he found the boy slumped in the middle chair of a row of three, a look of boredom on his young face. Sylvester was staring at his computer screen with an expression that was a mixture of disgust and horror. And the doc. . .
"You destroyed our fort," said the agent as he stared at the remnants of the cardboard box Toby was fiddling with.
"Your fort," announced the shrink, "is now my puppet theater."
Cabe shook his head. "Don't you think Ralph's a little too old for puppets?"
Toby ignored the boy's "yes" with a wave of his hand. "No one's too old for puppets." He gestured to one of the empty seats. "Pull up a chair. The show's about to begin," he added giddily.
Reluctantly sitting next to the kid, Cabe sighed. He had a briefing at Homeland in less than an hour, so whatever torture the behaviorist was going to put them through hopefully wouldn't last long. Although, he grimaced, a minute would probably be too long.
"Welcome to the Toby Curtis show!" The crookedly hanging curtains attached to the front of the box were dramatically opened, causing them to fall to the floor. Toby was inside the box with just his head and shoulders visible in the jaggedly cut window. The doc ducked down then a sock puppet appeared. It was wearing a beard and a tiny hat.
"Starring Dr Toby Curtis!. Produced by Tobias M Curtis! Directed by T M Curtis! Written by Dr Tobias Curtis! Set Design by T Meriwether Curtis!" The puppet bobbed up and down, its mouth opening and closing as the credits were being called out.
"Today our first guest is none other than Team Scorpion's very own human calculator - Sylvester Dodd!"
Sly didn't even look away from his computer screen as he shook his head. "I want no part of your ego fest." Cabe glanced over at Ralph, who was rolling his eyes.
Apparently unconcerned by Sylvester's rejection, Toby kept talking. "Moving on to our next guest. He's big, he's bad, he thinks he's our dad. . . Let's give a big welcome for Homeland Security agent, Cabe Gallo."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Aw, come on," pleaded the shrink. "Afraid you'll be upstaged by a puppet?"
"No, I'm terrified of being trapped in an appliance box with a lunatic," growled the agent.
"Okay then, moving along to today's mystery guest. He's got a big brain and an even bigger ego. His hobbies include being efficient, telling people his IQ is higher than Einstein's, and suffering from unrequited love for a certain liaison. I'm sure you've all guessed by now. . . That's right. . . It's Walter 'Mr 197' O'Brien! Yaaaaayyy!"
Another sock puppet with dark curly hair and a frown popped up into view. "Hello Dr Curtis, thank you for inviting me to your wonderful show."
Ralph tapped Cabe on the arm before leaning over and whispering, "I think Toby's losing it."
"I think you're right," the agent agreed.
"I think the sooner Happy, Walter, and my mom wrap up this case, the better." The youngster shook his head as Toby obliviously nattered on.
"Your mom's going to be in LA later today. Maybe after you're done with your camp thing, we can arrange for you to see her?" suggested Cabe.
"Walter, too?" Ralph grinned up at him.
"Sure."
"Maybe you could get Happy to visit Toby, too. I think her being gone is the reason he's been acting so nutty." The boy swirled his fingers around his ears.
"I'll see what I can do, kiddo." Cabe looked at his watch, then got to his feet. "We need to head out if you're ready."
"Okay." Ralph hopped out of his chair and ran over to get his backpack.
"Oh, you're so much smarter than me, Dr Curtis," the Walter puppet was saying when the door slammed shut behind Cabe and Ralph. Toby's head poked out from behind the box.
"Hey, where'd everybody go?" he asked.
"Cabe is dropping off Ralph at his day camp and then he's going on to Homeland," Sly replied briskly.
"Well, poop." The shrink made the puppets dance from side to side. "No one appreciates a good puppet show anymore."
"They would if there were a good puppet show to appreciate."
"I don't like mean Sly," declared Toby. "He's nothing but bad news."
"Then you won't like this either." Sylvester pointed at his screen.
"What?" The psychiatrist walked over to the other man's desk, still wearing a sock puppet on each hand.
"The phone Paige cloned last night is clean, too," said the human calculator. "No gun deals, just more porn."
"Well, double poop." Toby blew a raspberry.
"I'm going to go take another shower," said Sly with a shudder. "I never realized the music business was so filthy."
"Everything's filthy, Sylvester," said the shrink. "The whole world and everything in it is covered with filth. You of all people should know that."
"That's a pretty bleak attitude," said the younger man. With a shake of his head, he got up from his desk and headed up to the loft.
Toby plopped back down in his chair and stared at the puppets on his hands. "Well, Mr 197," he made the Toby puppet say, "pull your IQ out of your ass and solve this case so I can get my Happy back."
"I'll do my efficient best, Dr Curtis," he made the Walter puppet say. In a fit of disgust, the doc tore off the puppets and flung them down on his desk.