A/N - Guest: I was forgetting Paily that I used to love.

You know, that's actually what started me riding this story. I was in an Uber, and I heard someone dedicate a song to her high school sweetheart whom she hadn't seen in 35 years. The song that she dedicated reminded me of a Paily scene, and I went through all my Paily vids to track it down. Along the way, I rediscovered a bunch of scenes that reminded me why I love these two in the first place. I'm glad that this fic did that for you! :) Thanks for reading!


"Emily!" Paige came to an abrupt halt, putting her hand on her heart, after turning down an aisle in the supermarket and almost walking straight into Emily's shopping cart.

"Whoa! Slow down there, Paige!" Emily called out amiably.

Paige was looking at her strangely, silently. Emily was confused. "Paige?"

"Oh, sorry, I just…" Paige didn't want to admit why she was looking at Emily like that, so she lied, trying to make a joke out of it. "I… was just thinking that, if you spent a little more time in the gym, you wouldn't have to push that huge cart around" – she widened her arms to indicate how large it was – "for that small amount of groceries." Paige pointed at the groceries, which barely filled up one corner or Emily's shopping cart. "You'd have the arm-strength to carry one of these shopping baskets instead." Paige lifted the basket that she was using to carry her groceries and tapped it a couple of times, intentionally flexing her bicep as she did.

Emily rolled her eyes and patted Paige on the shoulder. "Well, unfortunately, we're not all blessed with guns like yours," she said. Giving Paige's shoulder a friendly squeeze, she added, "Killer."

Paige's head recoiled as she laughed. "Killer," she said, shyly looking away. "No one's called me that in years."

It was Coach Fulton who first came up with the nickname. It had something to do with Paige's killer instinct when they were competing. It didn't take long for the team to pick up on the nickname. Eventually, they started calling her "McKillers."

But, like most things between Paige and Emily, there was an extra layer to the nickname: one that was known only to the two of them. That night at Paige's pool, after Emily told her not to look away and they kissed in the moonlight, Paige responded, "I can't help looking away. You're killing me with those deep brown eyes."

Emily placed her hands on Paige's chest, just below the shoulders, and leaned in again. "You're the real killer," she said, in a soft, sincere voice. The kiss she gave Paige was so tender that it was hard to tell where Paige's lips ended and where Emily's began. From that night on, whenever Emily used the nickname, it served to remind Paige that it wasn't just a one-way thing; that while she may have been the love of Paige's life, Paige was just as much the love of her life.

"So, you're doing a little bit of shopping?" Emily asked, trying to keep the conversation moving before the moment got awkward.

"Yeah, a little bit of shopping," Paige said, resisting the urge to dip her head. "Hey, I was going to ask you, do you still have the same number?" Before it could sink in that she was asking Emily for her phone number, she quickly added, "Because I was going to text you, you know, to see whether you wanted to meet up at the gym sometime, but I didn't know whether or not you'd changed your phone number." Her voice trailed off as she realized that she was nervously going on and on.

Emily laughed at how shy Paige was being – after all these years; after all they'd been through together. "Yeah, it's the same number," she said, almost smirking.

"Oh. Okay. I just thought, you know, it might be nice to have a workout partner, you know. And, you know, since we've been partners – workout partners – in the past, you know…"

Emily nodded her head. "Yeah," she said, to let Paige off the hook. "That would be good." Emily added, "I'd like that," to fill in the silence. Paige still didn't reply. "Do you…. Do you need me to give you my number?"

"Huh? What?" Paige recovered quickly, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure I must have it stashed away somewhere," she said sarcastically.

"Okay. Good." It meant something, for Emily, to know that, however many times Paige had changed phones, she'd never deleted her phone number. She quickly thought to add, "I'm pretty sure I have yours somewhere, too." Even though she matched Paige's sarcastic tone, she genuinely wanted Paige to know that she hadn't let go of her phone number, either. "Unless… unless you've changed your number?"

Paige chuckled. "No, it's the same number. After all, Nick McCullers isn't about to figure out how to reprogram the old touchtone phone in the kitchen just because his daughter got a new phone number." Emily laughed spontaneously, and the sound made Paige happy, so she milked it a little. "Besides, it would be a toll call, if I changed to an Iowa phone number, and we know that, daughter or not, he's not going to pay for a toll call!"

Emily's laughter was contented, and she let her hand land softly on top of Paige's forearm. She'd missed that. She missed being friends with Paige, just shooting the breeze; sharing a laugh. "You're crazy," she said with a sigh.

"Well, the nut doesn't fall far from the tree, I guess…"

An older woman came up behind Emily, making Paige realize that they had been blocking the aisle. "Well, listen, I should probably…"

"Yeah," Emily said, sliding her shopping cart to the side, to create some room. "See you later… Killer!"

Paige smiled, despite herself. As Emily walked past, she said, "Bye, Em," so softly that only she could hear it. She immediately cursed herself for her lack of guts. "Oh, Em?" she called out. Emily, her hands on the shopping cart, pivoted at the waist with a wide, welcoming smile. "I'll be in touch about the gym," Paige said, looking Emily straight in the nose.

Emily, still smiling, nodded, and gave Paige a wave as she pivoted back around. It made Paige feel a little schoolgirl-y inside. She couldn't avert her eyes as Emily walked away, until the older woman, completely oblivious to the moment she was intruding on, cleared her throat and gestured towards a can of peas that Paige was blocking her from. "Oh... Pardon me." Paige reached for the can and handed it to the woman, who smiled wordlessly and walked off in a huff.

Paige didn't know whether to celebrate or to cringe over the fact that she'd used her pet-name for Emily. It was a big step for her, especially after she'd bailed on it just a split-second earlier, but, at the same time, she wasn't sure that she wanted to send the message that using the name "Em" sent. At least she had plausible deniability, using it when she did – as an afterthought; a quick way to get Emily's attention. That was, after all, the way that Emily's other friends used the name.

Emily was only slightly less ambivalent about Paige's use of the name. It was definitely good to hear, but maybe Paige was trying to normalize it; to change its meaning – especially after the way that she had used it in the bar. On the other hand, it came after Emily had used her pet-name for Paige, and Paige went out of the way to get to say it, coming up with an excuse to get her attention when she really didn't have anything to add to the conversation. It reminded Emily of that time she'd left a message for Paige and started to say, "I love you," out of force of habit. Paige, of course, must have seen through her attempt at covering – "I'd love to hear from you." – just as Emily could see through the way that Paige tried to minimize the use of "Em."

Whatever. Emily decided not to get too worked up over the name either way. She was on a journey, and she knew that it was going to be a long, slow trip. The important thing was just to keep making progress.


Paige shifted the basket from one arm to another and thought back to seeing Emily with the shopping cart. She just looked so mature; grown up. There was Paige, still looking like a college student, making a late-night to the convenience store to pick up some aspirin and tampons, but Emily was pushing a cart, like an adult; someone with a fully stocked kitchen and a fully stocked life, filled with grown-up responsibilities.

Emily was always a step or two ahead of Paige, on their journey. She was a leader on the swim team when Paige was still getting her feet wet; she was comfortable and settled with her sexuality while Paige was still in denial; she was ready to move on with her life, while Paige was still clinging to the relationship that they once had.

It was no wonder Emily always found it easy to leave Paige behind. Paige would have left herself behind, too, if she were in Emily's position.

"No," Paige said out loud, through gritted teeth. She wasn't going to fall prey to that again. She had come to Iowa to clear her head, and to stop measuring herself on the Emily Fields scale of evolution. She couldn't let the fact that Emily was back in her life throw her off course. Not again. She wouldn't.


Emily was on pins and needles as she waited for Paige's call. Well, not Paige's call. Paige had never said that she would call, and Emily knew how much Paige hated phone calls. They got her all flustered, even in the best of times. Calling up her ex would've been an even more flustering proposition. Emily could almost see Paige pacing around in her apartment, talking herself out making a call; convincing herself that it would be okay to send a text.

No call or text came that day, but that was fine. Emily briefly considered contacting Paige, but she decided against it. No need to pressure her. They were only going to be able to move forward at a pace that Paige was comfortable with.

It was twenty-four hours (almost to the minute) after their encounter in the supermarket that Emily heard from Paige. The timing wasn't coincidental. Paige, just as Emily had imagined, had had a tough time convincing herself that contacting Emily was a good idea, so she imposed a deadline on herself: She would have to reach out to Emily within one day. Sending the text ended up being as much about Paige accepting and meeting her self-imposed challenge as it was about setting up a time when she could work out with Emily. And that had been the point of setting the deadline in the first place. Paige knew herself; she knew how to motivate herself to do something that she was afraid of doing.

The text was terse and to the point. "5:30 Mon," followed by a thumbs-up and a question mark. Emily giggled to herself when she read it. Paige wasn't giving any feelings away. The text was all business. She imagined that Paige had chosen 5:30, even though it was closer to 4:00 when Emily met her in the gym the last time, to keep Emily from trying to negotiate a later time and draw the conversation out longer. In a fit of mischief, Emily briefly considered stringing Paige along; – asking a bunch of questions (should she bring coffee, where would they meet) and suggesting other times, just to frustrate Paige to the point where she would end up picking up the phone and talking it out. Had she been younger, she might have done that. High school Emily probably would have done that. But Emily was through playing games. She played it straight, sending back a thumbs up and adding, "Looking forward to it!"


Paige was on-edge Sunday night. She found it hard to sleep. Different scenarios for Monday morning's work-out kept going through her head. She was afraid that she would mess things up and things would end badly. She was equally afraid that things would go well and she would fall into her old patterns with Emily and end up on that old, familiar road again. That road led to a crash, every time.

If there was anything that she had learned in high school, it was that she and Emily could never just be friends. When they got close, their energy would either draw them together push them farther away. It was never neutral. That was why she ended up leaving Rosewood. Things were good when they were attracting each other, but something always seemed to interfere, so that they ended up repelling each other.

Something or someone.

Maybe things could be different in Iowa. They were adults, after all; not kids, riding a roller coaster of emotions and hormones. Maybe their energy had settled down to the point where they could just be friends and get close to each other without craving more.

And maybe the moon was made of cream cheese.


Emily noticed Paige's apprehension as soon as she got out of her car and saw her sitting on a bench outside the gym, examining her nails and, occasionally, biting them. She looked up with a game smile when she saw Emily approaching. Without thinking, when Paige stood up, Emily leaned over and hugged her. That was the way that she often greeted her friends; she didn't mean anything by it. It seemed to calm Paige down, to know that she could hug Emily without being overcome by convulsions of lust.

Friends.

It was an important first step. After their workout, they still did their little dance – Paige lingering in the pool to give Emily time to shower in privacy; Emily lingering in the locker room, and, eventually, meeting on the sidewalk to say good-bye. They parted with a hug on the way to their cars, and set a time for their next session, on Wednesday.

Baby steps.

Working out together three days a week, as a couple of weeks went by, things began to become more relaxed; more familiar. They fell into the old rhythms that they knew from high school, and often shared a laugh about some memory or inside joke from those days of swimming for the Sharks.

"Why are you sucking for air, Ms. Fields? Why is your breathing so heavy? Just swim! Just swim!"

"Oh, God, Paige!" Emily couldn't concentrate on the treadmill. She was laughing to hard. "Holy…" Emily sighed heavily and pushed the "END WORKOUT" button, suddenly not in the mood to complete the whole thing. "God, you sound just like her!"

"No," Paige said, trying to control her own laughter, "You know who really nailed the Coach Fulton impression?"

"Sydney!" they said in unison.

"God, that girl…" Emily said wistfully, shaking her head.

"She used to do an impression of you, too," Paige said softly, as if she were admitting something that she wasn't supposed to tell.

"What?" Emily's head snapped to the side in shock. "How come I've never heard about this before?"

"Because…" Paige drew out the word as if the answer were too obvious to have to say. "You know how much she looked up to you. You were like a big sister to her. She would've died if you ever found out that she was impersonating you."

"So, what did she say? What did she do?"

"Just, kind of, put her hands on her hips" – Paige put her hands on her hips, with her elbows bending out at the sides – "and surveyed the perimeter." Paige slowly swiveled her head from one side of the room to the other, with a sober expression, nodding slightly from time to time. "You know the routine. 'I'm Assistant Coach Emily Fields, and I'm in charge, bitches!'"

Emily's jaw dropped. She was smiling. "She said that?"

Paige dropped her "Emily" impression with a shrug of her shoulders. "With her body language, yeah." Emily shook her head with a sigh. "I guess it was kind of intimidating for her to join the team senior year, as the new kid who needed to establish herself."

"Oh, so she was afraid of me?" Emily shoved Paige playfully. Everyone on the team knew that Paige was the intimidator. Emily had always been the ambassador; the one who welcomed new people to the team.

"Well, let's face it. She was crushing on you." Emily rolled her eyes. "At least at the beginning."

Emily really didn't want to go there. Paige picked up on her reluctance. "All right, ladies!" she barked, lapsing back into her impression of Coach Fulton. She was clapping her hands rapidly and strutting back and forth, with the same scowl Coach Fulton always had when she was trying to light a fire under her team. Emily was standing at attention, as if she were lined up next to her teammates, and trying her best to suppress a giggle fit. "Nobody ever got anywhere standing still!" Paige shouted.

Emily shook her head in agreement. As Paige was about to continue, she blurted out, "Except on a people-mover."

"And..." Paige stopped in her tracks, surprised at Emily's retort. "Except what?"

Emily put her hand over her mouth to cover her laugh. "Or on an escalator." She scrunched her mouth close, to avoid breaking into a telltale smile. Paige rolled her eyes. "An elevator?" Emily squeaked out.

"Boy, you're really full of the jokes today, aren't you?" Paige observed, dropping her Coach impersonation.

But Emily wasn't finished. "Or maybe like a really crowded bus, where it's standing room only." Paige stared at her blankly, not sure how to react, or how much longer Emily was going to keep it up. "You know, because... you could still get somewhere... even though you're standing still," she stuttered haltingly, her voice getting softer under Paige's withering glare. She had to put her hand over her mouth again, to hide the smile.

"Ha ha," Paige said flatly. "It's just a shame that you weren't this clever back when Fulton used to say that!"

"Are you kidding? If I'd said that to her back then..." - Emily shook her head, looking off into space - "... I'd still be swimming laps. You know, like the time Syd and Jody..."

"Dumped a whole package of Tide Pods in the pool!" They were both laughing uncontrollably.

"And they dissolved like ten minutes into practice..."

"And once Fulton found out, she made them swim the rest of their laps in it..."

"But their suits were really clean!" Paige's laughter faded into a sigh. "Oh, God," she said, her voice trailing off. "I'd almost forgotten about that!"

"Jody had hives for like a week. Remember? Her mom threatened to sue the school for her medical bills?"

"Yeah, and Fulton threatened to send her the bill for draining and rechlorinating the pool!"

Emily smiled to herself, happy to be able to take some time out to share a good memory with Paige.

She didn't linger on the moment, though. She knew that she couldn't move too fast. She had a lot of ground to make up, and she was going to have to take it one step at a time. She took a deep breath and tilted her head towards the pool. "Are you ready for this?"

Paige put on her competition face and pumped her fist. "Let's do this!"


"Hey," Paige said, swimming up to Emily who was sitting on the side of the pool after finishing her laps. "Are you, um… hungry?"

Emily looked suspicious. "Are you going to try to get me to eat some of that ranch and Buffalo chicken pizza?"

Paige smiled shyly. "Well, maybe…" She was about to say that maybe it was a stupid idea when Emily nodded, squeezing her bicep.

"Well, I'll make you a deal." Paige looked confused. "If you promise no more weird-ass pizza, I promise no more forced viewings of 'Rudy!'"

"Hey!" Paige playfully splashed Emily, to protest the designation of "weird-assed pizza," but she backed down, realizing that Emily was right. "Okay," she conceded. "It's a deal."

"Okay," Emily said, smiling shyly. She tilted her head towards the showers. "I just need to hit the showers."

"Yeah." Paige nervously cleared her throat. "I'm... um... I'm going to cool down in the pool for a few more laps."

Emily tightened her lips and nodded, to acknowledge what Paige had said. She understood. The walls were still there. No skipping steps.

They rode to the restaurant in their own cars and had a pleasant time over pizza (pepperoni and extra cheese; nothing weird) as friends. Then, they got into their own cars and headed back to their own apartments.

"Well, that's good," Hanna said, trying to sound upbeat. "You guys are back to being friends! That's progress, right?"

"I didn't move to Iowa for a friend, Hanna" Emily pointed out bitterly. "I had plenty of friends in Rosewood."