Paige woke up to discover she was the only one in bed.

Laying flat on her back and staring at the ceiling, she furrowed her brow, trying to remember if Walter had come home with her and Ralph that night. Yes, she specifically remembered him asking, repeatedly, if the light from his iPad bothered her as she tried to sleep. He'd chuckled when she said the only thing preventing her from sleeping was his repeated queries.

That was most definitely last night. So...

Paige slid out of bed. He was always up before her, but he usually stayed in bed until she awoke, afraid that Immigration was going to come and break down the door, ready to call the marriage a fraud if one of them was in the bedroom and the other wasn't.

She hadn't even tied the strings on her pajamas in the past four months in case they had to undress in a hurry. But, thankfully, the surprise visits had all been brief and at a fairly decent hour.

She wandered out of the bedroom, knocking on Ralph's door and hearing the yep that always signaled that he was up and getting ready for school.

She was nearly in the kitchen when she heard the door open. "Walter?" She called out, hoping it was him and not immigration. "Is that you...babe?"

His head popped around the corner, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her. "Hey!"

"Hi, where were you?"

"I was out...out, uh, getting these." He reached around the counter and a large, colorful bundle came into view.

"What's...what's this?" She asked.

She was expecting him to look at her oddly and reply flowers, because of course that's what they were. But he merely shrugged, giving her a tiny smile. "It's Valentine's Day," he said, and...did he sound shy? "And you know...you're...my wife."

Paige could tell she was blushing furiously as she reached out and took them, drawing the bouquet to her nose and inhaling deeply. She'd just been saying the other day that the condo was looking drab, and the combination of the colors and fragrance filled up her senses. "I, uh," she stammered, feeling like an idiot for being so thrown off by what was such a common gesture, "they're beautiful." Knowing he often didn't understand implications, she smiled at him. "I love them." She felt the coarse ribbon tying the stems together. "We'll have to get them into some water." She walked over to the sink, laying the flowers out and grabbing her kitchen scissors. "Can you cut all of these about an inch and a half from the bottom?"

"Sure." He took the scissors from her and she was keenly aware of the warmth from his hand. Filling a vase with water, she took the flowers from him, one at a time, and assembled them inside. "So pretty," she murmured. The early sunlight was coming in through the window, and the flowers looked even brighter. She patted them lightly, turning to smile at Walter. "Happy Valentine's Day," she said softly.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he responded, a corner of his mouth turning up in an almost playful manner. "Mrs. O'Brien."

Their eyes were locked, their faces barely a foot apart. She wanted him to kiss her, and suddenly he was, closing the narrow gap between them and brushing his lips gently over hers, his hands resting lightly at her waist. She slid her hands between his bent elbows and his ribs, kissing him back gently in the path of the sun.

"Aw, cool!"

They broke apart, startled, and turned in unison to see Ralph, his backpack over his shoulders, leaning on the table and grinning broadly.

"Ralph!" Paige said. "You didn't eat breakfast."

"They're doing breakfast at school today, remember?"

"Oh." Paige did remember signing a form for that. "Right." Why had she had to sign a form for... "You're going in early today. Which means it's time to leave now. Which means we are about to be late." She grabbed her keys. "Walter, you coming with us?"

"Yeah," he said, grabbing his laptop bag. "Yeah, gotta go straight to the garage from Ralph's school, though."

"No problem." Paige held the door open for him as she and Ralph exited the condo, and as he reached out to take it from her, he stopped.

They both did.

They smiled at each other, and she glanced back at him again as she turned away to look for the first step. The way he'd looked at her just then...the way he'd looked at her in the kitchen...a shiver went up her spine and it wasn't at all the kind that she got when watching scary movies.

Her heart was fluttering in her chest and her cheeks were tinged pink as they headed out to the car.

"What's up with you, 197?" Toby asked, jogging down the stairs. Paige and Happy were still up in the loft, the former showing Happy the little Valentine outfits she'd gotten for little Grace. As much as he wanted to help dress his daughter up in them, he had to get to Patrick's. His father in law was designing a bundle of flowers made entirely of metals.

"Hmm?" Walter looked up from his laptop. "What do you mean?"

"You've got a...slight..." Sylvester walked over to his desk and leaned on it, studying the older man. "A lightness to you."

"Did something happen with you and Paige?" Toby asked. "Oh my, my, my, I think something did."

"My relationship with Paige is not for public analysis," Walter said.

"But your marriage to her is," Toby said. "But you just used the word relationship which implies that something happened that wasn't for a picture for the photo album."

"I may have gotten her flowers for Valentine's Day," Walter said. "And there may have been a brief...contact...between our lips, but..."

"Oh my God," Sylvester said. "You guys are really..."

"No," Walter said, holding up a hand. "Don't."

"I get it," Sylvester said. "Things might be starting to happen for you guys for real and you don't want us to jinx it. But Walt, that's got to be exciting. You guys haven't kissed for no reason other than feelings in...oh gosh, since you got out of the hospital from your car accident, right?"

Toby cleared his throat. "Sly."

"For geniuses like us, we remember things, especially things that bring back intense feelings. You have to think about that kiss...every day. All you have to do is close your eyes and you can see her exactly how she looked that night. That one time that you knew that there was nothing involved but the energy between the two of you. To think that you guys might be getting to that point again...I know how overwhelming it is," he said, "to be at the start of something big. And if I hadn't had people to talk to about it..." he shrugged. "Walt. We're here. We're here for you. And for her."

"Don't get excited," Walter said.

"But it's you guys," Sylvester said. "It's always been you guys." He cocked his head, noticing a slight frown on Walter's face. "Uh...what's the matter?"

"N – nothing," he said. "Have we had this conversation before?"

"What?"

"The...Paige and my first kiss. I feel like I've had that discussion previously."

"Not from me," Sylvester said.

Toby shook his head. "Me either."

Walter shrugged. "Huh."

Paige grinned as she saw Happy's jaw drop at the sight of the metal flowers, noting the pleased look on Toby's face as he took in her reaction. Their expressions sent butterflies straight to her stomach as she remembered her own morning with Walter.

"Look at Mommy and Daddy in love," she whispered to Grace. The baby looked up at her, clapping her little hands together. "Yes, look at Mommy and Daddy in love."

Happy turned from Toby, walking over to the couch and picking her daughter up with a smile. Carrying her back across the loft, she tucked her head to Toby's chest as he wrapped his arms around her, the baby protectively between them.

Paige got up, striding purposefully down the stairs.

Walter wasn't in the main room, and she wandered into the kitchen. He wasn't there either. She wondered briefly if he'd gone to get her something else for Valentine's Day, and even as that pleasant fluttering in her stomach returned, she was suddenly filled with guilt that she hadn't gotten him anything. He didn't need a watch, he wore cologne only on special occasions...technology. He would love something new, something that was just released in stores, to make his own improvements on.

Paige pushed open the door to the garage, and stopped. "...Walter?"

He was standing a few feet from the car, hands in his pockets, staring off into nothing.

"W..." she cocked her head. "What's going on?"

"I couldn't go up to the roof because you guys were in the loft."

She cocked her head in the other direction. He was agitated – something had clearly gotten to him – but she had no idea what. "And...why not?"

"Sly said something to me today." He turned to look at her. "About our first kiss." He paused, as if expecting her to have a response, but she had no idea where he was going with this and didn't know what to say. "He said that, that due to my brain make up, and...and other...f – factors, that I would remember every detail. Such as...such as what you were wearing. Your perfume. How your lips felt."

"O – okay." It's not due to your brain make up. Normal people can remember every detail of important moments too. Believe me. "What does this..."

He looked at her as if she should have connected all the dots by now. "Space."

"Space," she said, nerves beginning to stir.

"You told me you talked to me," he said, taking in a deep breath. "You don't remember telling me that you know how much I think about our kiss?"

"I...I didn't. Tell you that," she said. He hallucinated me talking about our kiss? Toby hadn't told her that. Then again, she supposed none of them would have known her half of whatever conversations Walter thought happened. "At least...at least when you thought I was telling you that, I wasn't actually talking to you then. It...it must have been...just a part in your mind." She knew he wouldn't like that – he hated having gaps in his memory. His brain was his strongest and most reliable tool.

Walter looked more disconcerted than before. "You...you said we talked about Baked Alaska, but...but after that..."

Oh God.

"Were you talking to me after that?" He asked, his voice not sounding like himself.

Paige nodded, her heart in her throat as she thought about why she'd come bounding down the stairs in search of him just minutes ago. Not like this. Not like this. "Yes."

"You got me to pull the lever. You got me to come home. You saved my life."

"I would have done anything to bring you home, but you saved your own life," she said, suddenly not wanting an inkling of credit for anything that happened that day. "You pulled the lever. You just needed some help getting there. That's all."

"You said..." He started, and she knew where this was going; she wanted to throw up, her head began to spin, she didn't want to do this, "you said that you love me." His face contorted. "Why would you say that if you didn't mean it?"

I would never say I love you if I didn't mean it. It wasn't what he said, but Paige could read between the lines.

"I...I understand...needing to complete the mission," Walter said. "I know...I know I've lied to fulfill our objective. It's..."

"I would have said anything to bring you home," she blurted, tears in her eyes. "But that doesn't mean I lied to you. I didn't even know how I felt then, okay? Even about Tim, and I was dating him. All I knew for sure was I had to get you to want to come back to us because we can't live without you and if you died because I didn't try hard enough I'd never forgive myself. You're so important to me, Walter. You're so important to me."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. "Why didn't you...all this time? All this time, you all knew, and I...we've been married for four months."

She could see how much he was struggling to keep some inkling of control. He was spiraling, she could see that, as he tried desperately to process something that would be a lot to take even for the most adjusted individual. And he had to be embarrassed on top of it all, knowing that this had all played out in front of the team and they'd been carrying those memories all this time. He probably even knew that they'd kept it from him for his own good – but that wouldn't make him feel any better. She took a step toward him. "Walter..." The look in his eyes was terrifying her. "Walter, can we go somewhere and talk?"

He stared at her, then, "no."

She blinked. "What?"

"I'm sorry. I can't. I can't."

She hesitated before asking why not.

He bit his lip. "Because I know now how it feels to tell you that I love you and hear you say it back. I'd imagined it before but..." His breathing grew audible. "I...I never imagined that it would hurt so badly."

She could have sworn that something was actually squeezing her heart. She wanted to go back to that morning, when his lips were catching hers between them, when the early morning sun danced around them and despite the fraudulent marriage she'd been feeling things that were incredibly real and incredibly good.

Hell, she'd go back to five minutes ago in the loft, deciding to come down here and tell him...but she couldn't now. Not like this. Not when he was looking at her like that. He had never looked at her like that before, she couldn't identify it but it wasn't good and she was suddenly terrified.

"I was going to drive away. Find somewhere alone to think. But you have the keys."

"Walter, please. Let's just go inside, or – or we can drive somewhere together! Anywhere you want. We'll find somewhere we can be alone. And we'll talk. We'll talk about anything you want. And I promise it'll be okay. We'll get through this. We can get through anything."

Her voice had naturally dropped into the soothing tone that she used just for him, for moments like this when he was so fraught. It wasn't working. He was listening, but her words weren't having any effect.

Paige's face drained of all the color that had been so present that morning as the realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

She was no longer a safe space.

"Please give me the keys," he said, his breathing ragged. He wasn't angry with her. She wished he would be angry with her. Anything but the broken expression.

She shook her head. "No."

"Paige, please, I...I have to..."

"I know," she said. "I know you need time to process and I know you need to be alone and I know your brain is failing you right now and I want you to be someplace where you can recuperate from this but I can't let you drive."

"I'll be careful."

"You always think you're careful."

A car pulled up, seemingly out of nowhere, causing them both to jump, and Paige swore her face didn't have another ounce of blood to lose when she saw the pattern on the folder sitting on the dashboard. This wasn't a person she recognized – but she knew why they were here.

"Hi there," said the woman as she exited the vehicle. "I'm Hotchkiss. From Immigration. Are you Walter and Paige?"