Author's note: Yay! This fic is finally finished. And I got it done before its 18th month anniversary. Yay!
Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed and encouraged. You all are awesome. Happy Scorpion Monday!
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Nearly four hours later, Walter limped into the garage, leaning against Paige on one side while Happy hovered on the other. The painkillers he'd been given were wearing off and his wound throbbed uncomfortably.
"Hail the conquering heroes!" Toby called out as he jumped out of his chair. He loped toward them, stopping in his tracks a few yards in front of them. "Or should I say the conquered hero? Holy shit, Walt. What the hell happened?"
Walter glanced down at his torn and bloody jeans. "It's nothing. I'm fine," he replied through gritted teeth as the pain grew a little more intense.
"Yeah, because you sound fine." The shrink turned to Paige. "How is he really?"
"It's a shallow graze," she said before repeating the paramedic's instructions.
"You need me to look at it now?" Toby looked back at Walter who shook his head.
"Do you want to stay down here or go upstairs?" asked Paige, rubbing his back.
"Here." Walter let her lead him as he hobbled gingerly over to the couch.
She slipped a pillow under his right knee. "Do you need another pill?" Before he could answer, the door creaked open and Cabe, along with the ATF agent Fitzsimmons, strolled inside.
"Good work, team," the Homeland agent announced. "Darbinian is singing like a canary.. We should have his associates in custody in a matter of hours."
"Mom!" Ralph ran inside the building, followed closely by a beaming Sylvester. After giving his mom an enthusiastic hug, the youngster was practically jumping up and down as he excitedly told her about his day camp.
Walter closed his eyes as he rubbed his forehead. The noise level quickly grew to an unbearable volume with everyone talking over each other. He'd hope to come back to the garage to some peace and quiet to counteract the chaos of the past week. Plus he wanted to be alone with Paige, although he had no idea how to broach the subject of their relationship.
From the cacophony swirling around him, one voice rose above the rest. "Two shipments of weapons left the country right under their noses," Fitzsimmons commented snidely to Cabe. "For a team of geniuses, it sure took them long enough to solve this case."
Rage roiled up inside Walter at the ATF agent's insult. "We never should have taken this case in the first place," he shouted, trying to stand up. His injured leg buckled beneath him as Paige reached his side, guiding him back onto the sofa.
"Walter, please. . ." She caressed her hand down his back in a gesture meant to calm him. But instead, she accidentally stroked the still raw scratches on his shoulder blades, causing him to flinch away from her touch.
"You didn't give a damn what happened to us," he pointed out angrily, ignoring her plea. "You sent us in there like lambs to slaughter. . ."
"Walter," Cabe cautioned as he came up beside Paige.
Brushing off the Homeland agent's concern, Walter continued to yell at Fitzsimmons. "We weren't prepared for what we encountered. The drugs and alcohol and s-s-sex. . ." He paused to take a ragged breath. "Paige was practically. . . And. . .and I . . .I. . . " His eyes darted to the liaison for a fleeting second. "I was. . .distracted by. . .things." Dropping his head into his hands, he added, "It's all. . .all my fault."
And it had been his fault. He'd failed on so many levels. Failed to figure out Darby was the smuggler, which had been crystal clear once he'd allowed the puzzle pieces to fall into place. Failed to protect Paige and Happy from the excesses of the band. Failed with Zalina by letting things with her get out of control.
A shocked silence has settled over the garage as Walter's tirade stumbled to a halt. Toby cleared his throat and opened his mouth, then promptly closed it when Cabe glared at him.
"Don't blame yourself, son," said the Homeland agent.
"Who else would I blame?" Walter asked. "This is my team. My responsibility. My failure."
"But you didn't fail. You got the bad guy," Sylvester chimed in.
"Yeah, after he let two shipments of guns leave the country." said Fitzsimmons.
"Yeah, and just how many did ATF let slip through their fingers?" Cabe replied hotly.
As the two agents argued, out of the corner of his eye, Walter saw Paige crouching down and talking to Ralph. The boy must have agreed with what she said because he nodded and smiled. Figuring she was sending him upstairs, away from the 'adult' discussion, he was surprised when she turned and spoke to Toby. It became even more curious when the three of them headed to the row of beat up lockers behind Happy's work area.
Shutting his eyes again, Walter let his head rest on the couch. He must have drifted off because a dull clank startled him awake. He glanced up to see Paige holding a pair of crutches. "What. . .?"
"Get up, mister, you're coming home with me," she said, interrupting his question.
"Oh. . .okay." He clumsily got up off the sofa using the crutches. Taking a tentative step, he stopped. "What about Ralph? You haven't been able to spend much time with him because of the case. I don't want to intrude. . ."
"He's going to stay another night with the guys," Paige cut in again. "Apparently they've made plans to experiment with methane gas tonight."
Walter slid his gaze over to where Toby, Happy, and Ralph were interacting. "They're not by any chance having Mexican food, are they?" he asked, trying to keep a straight face.
"Yeah, Toby said something about bean and cheese burritos." Paige frowned. "Why?"
"Nothing," he replied with a shake of his head. The less she knew about the evening's "experiment", the better. He was certain Sylvester and Cabe wouldn't let things get too dangerous. "Are you sure you want me to. . ."
"Yes, come on." Paige picked up their bags and headed for the door. Holding it open so he could pass through, she waited as Ralph ran over to say goodbye. Giving him a hug, she said, "Be good. Love you."
The boy just grunted as she let go. Then he turned to Walter and embraced him. "Glad you're okay," Ralph mumbled against his chest before stepping away.
"Thanks, buddy." Walter barely choked out the words. Glancing at Paige, he noticed she was biting her lip, her eyes shimmering with tears.
Hope and despair warred inside him. The fact she was taking him to her condo, the fact she was crying. . . Either she meant to dump him in private or. . .
Metallic rattling punctuated his progress as he made his way out to Paige's car. He was not a superstitious person. But he didn't want to dwell too hard on the second option.
ooooo
"Dig the new look."
Happy whipped around to stare at Toby, who gulped nervously when he glimpsed her furious eyes and mutinous mouth along with the red braids and nose piercing.
"Shut up, moron," she said tersely before spinning back around and picking up a mallet.
"What? No, really." He held up his hands as he approached. "It looks metal. That's a thing, right?"
"Yeah, whatever." She started pounding on a bike fender.
"So. . ." He almost had to shout over the noise she was making.
"So what?" Allowing the mallet to drop from her hand, she crossed her arms over her chest.
Pointing at her hair and nose, he asked, "Why?"
Happy shrugged. "Why not?" He must have been giving off vibes of skepticism because she sighed. "I was hanging out with Anya last night and we got a little drunk and. . ."
"Oh, God, don't tell me. . . Wait. . . Do tell me. Everything. Ow!" Toby rubbed his shoulder where she'd whacked him.
"Pervert." She jabbed her fingers lightly down his arm. "It wasn't like that. She wanted to put red streaks in her hair, and it sounded like a good idea at the time so I did it too." She shrugged as she pointed to the diamond stud above her left nostril. "Same reason for this. I'll say one thing about the Russians. They drink really good vodka."
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked gently.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Oh, I don't know. You spent most of a week with this Anya and it seems like you two became fairly friendly. And because now she probably thinks you betrayed her by just pretending to be her friend."
"Well, you have it all figured out, don't you?" Happy snarled. "She was just someone to hang with, that's all." She picked up her mallet and resumed banging on the fender. He didn't believe her, of course, and he doubted she did either. But he had bigger fish to fry.
"All right then, moving on to the next touchy subject that will make you want to kick my ass." He hustled over to his desk and retrieved a folder. Taking a deep breath, he cautiously placed it in front of her.
"What the hell is that?" she growled, interrupting her hammering once again.
"I figured while you were busy saving the world, I could do a little research on your former spouse."
"Former spouse?" She set down the mallet with a thud.
"Yeah. It appears Bob the Mechanic sold his shop four years ago because he'd had a heart attack. He didn't survive the second one a couple of years later."
"Oh." Grabbing her welding helmet and torch, she put on the helmet before firing up the torch.
"Is that all you have to say?" Knowing he was risking his life, he flipped up the visor.
"What else do you want me to say?" She stared at him defiantly. "Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I'll marry you, you dumb jerk."
All the air seemed to be sucked out of his lungs. "Yes?" he managed to croak out. Then panic seized him. "Oh, crap, I don't have the ring. It's. . ."
"We'll get it later," she said.
"I didn't know. . . You. . . The case. . ." Taking a deep breath, he calmed down enough to say, "I promised Ralph we'd light farts tonight."
"Seriously?" He couldn't tell by her expression if she was pissed or disgusted. "And you weren't going to invite me?" All his tension fled as her lips stretched into a smile and she flicked off the welding torch.
"I knew there was a reason I loved you," he said as they eased into each other's arms and kissed.
ooooo
"Are you hungry? I could fix something or we could order in or. . ."
Paige paused as she stepped just inside her bedroom. She'd left Walter propped up on her bed after helping him change into a pair of sweatpants and a clean t-shirt. As far as she could tell, he hadn't moved an inch since she'd gone to toss their dirty clothes in the wash. Wondering if the pain pill she'd given him ten minutes earlier had knocked him out, she noticed his eyes were open yet unfocused as he stared blankly at the opposite wall.
Concern immediately welled up inside her. "Walter? Are you okay?" she asked.
He didn't even blink before replying in a detached voice, "I'm fine."
How could he be? The turmoil of the last twenty-four hours had her head in a whirl. And she hadn't been shot. . .or nearly raped. She couldn't even imagine how he was processing it all. "No, you're not," she said matter-of-factly.
Looking startled for a second, he rubbed his hand over his face. "You're right, I'm not."
She had to sit down on the edge of the mattress, astonished he'd agreed with her. "Is it what happened with Zal. . .?"
"No. It's. . .uh. . ." His eyes were focused on the comforter as he traced his finger along the seams. "I'm sorry. I don't know, know how to say. . .to ask this. . ."
"Walter, you need to rest," she said, patting his uninjured leg. "We can talk later."
"No, I want to get this over with."
"Get what over with?"
"Us."
Paige's mouth fell open. Oh, God, what did he mean by that? She must have made a sound because he lifted his gaze to meet hers, his dark eyes filled with panic.
"No, no, no, I didn't mean. . . That didn't come out right." Walter raked a shaky hand through his hair. "I need to know. . . I need to know if there is. . .if there is an 'us'?"
"I don't understand," she said, her confusion plain in her voice. "Of course, there's an 'us'. Why would you think there wasn't?"
Staring down at the bed again, he said, "The whole uncover operation seem so. . .so surreal. It was. . . I couldn't quite believe what you and I. . . What happened between us was real." Pausing to take a breath, he rubbed the back of his neck. "And now that we're facing reality again. . . I. . . You would realize you'd been caught up in the. . .the. . ."
"Unreality?" she supplied, her lips twitching..
He nodded. "Yeah." He raised his head to gaze at her. "And you would. . . You wouldn't want me any more."
"Walter," she began as she scooted over to sit beside him, reaching out her hand. He grasped it in his, relishing both its softness and strength. "Sweetheart, I've had feelings for you long before we were assigned this case. I can assure you what I feel for you is very real," she said, giving his fingers a squeeze. "What about you? Do you still want me?"
"Yes." He swallowed uneasily as she moved even nearer. "My-my-my feelings were. . .are real, too. I love you."
"I love you, too." Leaning over, she lightly brushed her lips over his. Her mere presence by his side had accelerated his respiration and set every nerve in his body on edge. As the kiss deepened, he glanced downward. Heat burned through him as it was plainly obvious how she affected him, the knitted fabric of his sweatpants hiding nothing.
"Oh. . . My. . ." Paige's eyes darted in the same direction, her cheeks glowing pink..
"Uh, um. . ." He began to apologize but the words stuck in his throat.
"No, it's. . ."
An awkward silence ensued for a few moments. He watched, mesmerized, as Paige licked her lips. An irresistible force drew his mouth to hers the same moment she mashed hers on his. Her fingers slid up his neck, tangling in his hair as she tried to straddle him at the same time he was attempting to pull her onto his lap. It was clumsy and overwhelming and he groaned against her lips as she ground herself against him.
"Oh, God. . . I forgot. . . Your leg. . . Did I hurt. . .?" She attempted to pull away but he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her to his chest.
"It's fine," he cut in truthfully. It wasn't his wound that was aching, but an entirely different location. "That's not why. . .uh. . ."
"Oh." She kissed him again, tentatively moving her body up and down. "You're not still worried it's not real, are you?"
"I, uh. . ." He lost his train of thought as she slid her hands beneath his shirt. "I, um, I may need a bit more rea. . .uh, reassurance."
Her fingers trailed down his stomach, slipping under the waistband of his sweatpants. "More reassurance, huh?" she said with a smile before kissing his nose. "I can give you all the reassurance you can handle, mister."
And she did.
ooooo
FIN