Author's note: Sorry it's taken awhile to update. I went on vacation again, totally off the grid even though I spent some time in the largest city in my state. Then it's taken me another week to recover. This fic is coming up on its 1 year anniversary and I'd like to have it wrapped up by then. Not making any promises though.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Hey, Akim! We finished now!" one of the roadies shouted as Walter wheeled the last speaker into place.

"Good job," said the head roadie, nodding with approval. "Okay, everybody, tomorrow is day off. Just show up sober at nine on Wednesday morning." Cheers and laughter greeted Akim's announcement as the others started leaving.

Walter flipped his right wrist to check his watch. 11:42 pm. Probably too late to contact Paige again. He'd sent a reply to her text while he and Happy had wolfed down a couple of tacos earlier in the day. But his phone had remained silent as he and the others unloaded and set up the band's equipment.

Concern for Paige threatened to overwhelm him. What if Yuri had discovered what had, or rather, what hadn't happened? What if he demanded more sex with her? And how did Zalina fit into all this? What if she found out about him and Paige? What if. . .

"Hey, Valter." Mikhail's voice broke through his worrisome thoughts and he turned to see the other man standing behind him.

"Uh, yeah?"

"We," the roadie began, indicating himself and the two other men Walter had played cards with, "we wondered if you want to come with us. We're going to check out strip clubs."

Walter was sure the revulsion he felt showed clearly on his face, but surprisingly the others didn't seem to notice as they waited expectantly for his answer. "Uh," he said, frantically searching his brain for an excuse which wouldn't alienate his newfound friends. "Sorry, I can't," he stated as a reason popped into his head, "my-my brother lives here. . .in LA. He's expecting me."

"Da, no problem, he can come too," Mikhail said, giving Walter a friendly thump on the shoulder.

The idea of Sylvester at a strip club. . . Images of the younger genius wiping down the pole with anti-bacterial soap and lecturing the women about hygiene almost had him bursting with laughter. Tamping down his amusement, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, I really can't. H-He's. . ."

"Hey, no problem," said Mikhail. "Maybe next time, okay?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." Walter watched as the men wandered out of the building. For some reason, he felt bad, like he was missing out on something. Maybe if their destination had been somewhere less sleazy, he might have joined them. He had no interest in seeing scantily clad women. . .except for Paige. With a grin, he recalled their night together, and how stunning she was and how her body. . .

Abruptly switching from his prurient thoughts before they careened out of control, he glanced around the stage, wondering if Happy had already left. He'd last seen her about an hour earlier, deep in conversation with the other pyrotechnician. Sighing, he decided she must have gone and started to head for the exit himself when he heard a giggle coming from behind a stack of amplifiers. A giggle he never would have recognized a week ago but now was all too familiar. Surreptitiously as he could, he made his way over to the amps and peered around them.

Happy had her back to him, and Akim's hands on her ass. The now easily recognizable stench of marijuana hung in the air around them. The head roadie was bent over her, and if Walter was a gambling man, he would have bet his life savings the other man wasn't kissing the mechanic's mouth but somewhere lower. Oh, shit.

Ducking his head back around the corner, he pressed his back to the equipment, shamelessly eavesdropping. For several uncomfortable minutes there was nothing but quiet moans and moist sucking noises emitting from the other side of the stack. Walter closed his eyes, a mistake as unwanted images floated through his brain.

"Come on, baby, I got room at hotel," said Akim, his words punctuated with kisses. "Just you and me. . .unless you want to invite Anya too. I'm okay with that."

"I. . .I can't." Walter was surprised by the frustration in Happy's tone.

"Why not?" the roadie asked a bit angrily. "I thought you liked me?"

"I do," replied the mechanic. "Just not that way. I'm sor. . ."

The rest of her apology was suddenly muffled, only to be replaced by groans. Walter debated whether he should intervene, possibly risk facing Happy's wrath, or walk away, possibly leaving the mechanic in a situation she would later regret. Guilt would consume him if something happened to her he could have prevented.

His indecision became moot as Happy finally spoke. "Okay, I do like you that way. But. . ." She took a deep breath. "I already have a boyfriend."

About time she remembered that, Walter thought self-righteously.

"A boyfriend?" Akim sounded pissed. "Ha, I'm supposed to believe that?"

"It's true," she said just as angrily. "He asked me to marry him."

"Did you say yes?" the other man asked.

"No," the mechanic replied, and Walter noted the sadness in her voice. "I couldn't. I'm already married."

"Fuck." He could feel the exasperation in Akim's expletive. "Married? Then why are you fooling around with me. . .and Anya? What are you, a tease cock?"

"It's cock tease. And no." A tense silenced ensued, and Walter knew Happy was having trouble explaining herself. "It's complicated and. . ." she began.

"No shit," the head roadie cut in before adding with a mirthless chuckle, "Why your parents name you Happy? You're not happy. You're one fucked up bitch."

The crack of a hard slap made Walter wince in apprehension, as the likelihood Akim was going to fire her on the spot was nearly 100%. Harsh breathing filled the air for several moments before the other man growled menacingly.

"You better watch yourself. Screw up again and you're fired," the head roadie snarled. Walter slid around to the front of the amplifiers when he heard footsteps, positioning himself just in time to see Akim stalk away.

Allowing the mechanic some time to compose herself (and to make it appear as if he hadn't been listening), Walter took a deep breath, and with as much nonchalance as he could muster, stepped around the corner.

"Oh, hey, there you are." At least that's what he'd meant to say. All he got out was, "Oh, hey. . ." before his mouth fell open as Happy spun around, glaring at him with tear stained cheeks and still watery eyes.

"I suppose you were listening to all of that, you son of a bitch." There was ferocity in her tone he'd never heard before, and it frightened him more than a little.

"Uh, no. . . I mean, um I was just looking for y-you," he fibbed. "I was-was wondering if you wanted to come back to the garage with me."

"You suck at lying, O'Brien," she stated. "And no, I'm going to my apartment. By myself." Walking up to him until they were almost toe to toe, she stared threateningly at him. "If you ever tell Toby what you've just overheard. . ."

"I don't know w-what you're talking about." He took a step back and held up his hands.

"Liar." Her steel-toed boot met his shin. He doubled over and grabbed his injured leg, lifting it off the floor as pain radiated from his knee to his ankle.

"Ow! What the hell. . ." Walter straightened up, hopping on his good limb.

"Swear you won't tell anyone," she hissed. "Not even Paige."

"Okay. Wait. . .why can't I. . ." He swallowed the rest of his question as she aimed her foot at his uninjured shin. "Okay, okay, I swear."

"Good. See you Wednesday." Stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets, she stomped off.

Walter watched her depart before shaking his head. He limped towards another exit so she couldn't accuse him of following her, coming to a halt as he approached a doorway when someone on its other side spoke.

"I need to see some ID, miss," a gravelly voice demanded. A voice Walter recognized immediately. Cabe must have started his security detail and was trying to keep some groupie from bothering the band.

"I have it right here, sir."

Walter's face broke into a huge grin. Paige. Right on the other side of the wall, sounding like she was attempting not to laugh. His breathing accelerated, as did his heart. His brain switched off its worrying mode and. . . And another part of his anatomy was practically jumping for joy.

"I can vouch for her. . .sir," he announced as he stepped out where they could see him. His stomach did a little flip when she flashed a dazzling smile at him.

"And who the hell are you?" Cabe asked, tipping his head toward another security guard across the hallway.

"Uh, Walter O'Brien. I'm a roadie." he reached for his wallet. "If you need to see my identification. . ."

The Homeland agent consulted the clipboard he was holding. "Sure." He waved at the other guard. "Hey, Charlie, I got this under control if you want to take a break."

"I do. Thanks." The other man pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket pocket and headed for the nearest exit.

"Smooth," Paige commented as Walter stuffed his billfold back into his jeans. Oh, God, she was having trouble restraining herself from running into his arms and kissing him and touching him and. . .

"Yeah, well, he's been hinting about going out for a smoke for the last half hour," Cabe declared, interrupting her wayward thoughts. His eyes darted from her then over to Walter. "You two kids seem pretty happy to see each other."

She watched as Walter's face turned beet red, felt the warmth which flushed over her own. Deciding to change the subject, she said in a rush, "How's Ralph? I have tomorrow off. I'd go see him tonight but it's too late, he's already asleep."

The older man mumbled something which sounded like "you'd be surprised" before stating in a louder voice, "Kid's doing great. He really wants to see you." The agent then turned to Walter, "You and Happy off tomorrow too?" He peered over Walter's shoulder as the genius nodded. "Where is she anyway?"

Paige didn't think it was possible, but Walter's cheeks grew even redder. "Uh, she, ah, she w-went to her apart-apartment," he said before switching the topic himself as he glanced at her. "So. . .did you get my text?"

"What. . . Oh, yeah. Sorry I didn't answer it," she replied. "I, uh, I figured you were working and I shouldn't disturb you." There was no way she was telling him she'd spent most of her afternoon and evening avoiding advances from the other band members and stressing over whether Zalina had discovered she hadn't slept with Yuri.

It hadn't help her anxiety the blonde singer kept making cryptic and crude comments during a vocal practice held in Yuri's hotel suite. Paige wasn't sure if they were directed toward her or Yuri. . .or maybe at both of them. The lead singer had written a new song and wanted to perform it at the upcoming concert so they'd spent several hours going over the lyrics. The song was hastily penned garbage, but clearly based on the sex he believed he'd had with her the previous evening. She wasn't looking forward to Walter hearing it, hoping most of its filthy innuendo would fly right over his head.

"So where are we at in this investigation?" growled Cabe, jolting her from her thoughts once again. "I was hoping you guys would have this wrapped up by now. I had both ATF and Homeland chewing my butt today. Sure would be nice to go home and be able to relax by myself after something like that."

"Ralph's not giving you too much trouble, is he?" Paige asked uneasily. The boy genius could be a handful sometimes and Cabe did seem more tense than usual.

"It's not Ralph who's being the pain in the ass," grumbled the agent under his breath. A little louder he growled, "Two more weapons shipments have left the country, one from Phoenix and another one from San Diego just this afternoon. Right under our noses. So have you three been wasting your time playing grab ass or have you been tracking down some solid leads?"

"One of the other backup singers had a fiancé who was a Chechnyan rebel," Paige volunteered before explaining the rest of her suspicions.

"And one of the roadies is dating the other singer who got busted," offered Walter, filling the older man in on what he'd overheard and theorized.

"Did you clone their phones?"

Walter shook his head. "Not yet. Nazar keeps to himself most of the time. He'd wondered why I was suddenly befriending him."

"And Zalina would rather claw my eyes out than be within five feet of me." Paige glanced over at Walter. Her stomach churned as she realized what they were going to have to do, and saw he'd come to the same conclusion as a horrified expression came over his face. "Oh, God."

"What?" asked Cabe.

"We're not going to be able to clone anything until Wednesday night," she replied hastily. "Everyone's scattered because of the day off and . . ."

"I don't care when it gets done, just so it gets done before another shipment of arms leaves the country," the Homeland agent cut in.

"You know, don't you?" Walter directed his question at her and she nodded. It hadn't been too hard to figure out since everyone believed she'd slept with Yuri, she was now 'available' to the rest of the entourage. But she wasn't worried about herself. She'd handled Yuri on her own, and Nazar probably wouldn't even be interested since he already had a girlfriend.

"Know what?" Cabe stared unhappily at both of them. "Somebody want to tell me what's going on?"

"I'm going to have to pretend to seduce Nazar," Paige said, before adding in a terrified whisper, "and Walter's going to have to let Zalina seduce him."