Chapter 3:

Disclaimer: I do not own any little bit of Scorpion

Thank you for the reviews! Love reading them. Hoping "jerk move, man" posted by Guest was directed at Walter and not me! This chapter is Walter's POV after their argument followed by Paige's next move.

Walter gazed at the door for a moment and then strode purposefully to Paige's desk and swept off all of the contents, almost including her monitor, which wobbled precariously and then settled back into place. He then gave the desk a childish, but powerful kick with his right foot, causing him to grimace and double over in pain, and the monitor to have the good graces to dramatically topple over and fall face down on the desk, which had been forced back several feet.

He paced around the garage, thoughts racing between a reenactment of their argument and concern for Paige driving in an agitated state with Ralph in the car. The last time he had gotten into a car after one of their altercations, their only other really heated altercation, had resulted in him driving over a cliff. But that was Mother Nature's fault he reminded himself. And Paige was far more level headed than he was…wasn't she?

Walter ran his hands through his hair. This was what it felt like to experience emotion. Anger he was used to. Frustration? Sometimes. But this was exacerbated. What was different? Why did this hurt as much as her saying she didn't want Ralph to become him? He, no, they had both agreed to the sensible outcome of remaining colleagues and friends. So this was just a switch that needed to be turned off. That was it. End of story. No other factors to consider. "Turn off the EQ, Walter," he told himself. "Better yet, forget you ever tapped into it to begin with."

He went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water, twisted the cap off, and drank deeply. He tried to take several calming breaths to make himself think and behave rationally. Not working. He could go for a walk. He could work on the rocket. He could go up and run trials with Cabe Jr. He wanted none of it. He contemplated following Paige to her apartment, but couldn't think of anything to say to her that might be productive. She was angry with him. Sooo angry. And he was mad at her too. Maybe this had to happen. Maybe the only way to be "professional colleagues" was for one or both of them to move on. He just hadn't anticipated that she actually would. He hadn't given another woman another glance. But Paige had moved on. Right now she was getting ready for a date with a well-to-do, grudgingly handsome (he supposed) eligible bachelor. And he hated it.

He went over to his desk and created a table on his computer to pinpoint his anxiety surrounding this ordeal. After sorting through all the "fraternizing in the work-place" scenarios that barely kept his attention, he noticed his thoughts kept drifting back to Paige and Simon scenarios. What were they doing right now? Each time he envisioned Simon's hands all over Paige caused a rise in Walter's blood pressure. And when he imagined her hands on Simon's chest, shoulders, hips, he felt betrayed, even sickened. A peal of thunder cracked followed by a heavy downpour. Walter recalled a report about a fast moving storm front that was supposed to cause a quick deluge and then move on. His thoughts went back to Paige. Maybe she would have just canceled the date? What was she wearing? And about that lingerie just sitting in her drawer…he wondered what it looked like, and how it would feel under his hands. He wondered what she would like, and how she would feel under his hands. He imagined himself deftly unhooking her bra and kissing her soft, perfect breasts. He allowed his mind to drift, while still gazing blankly at the monitor in front of him. After his eyes grew dry from staring at his computer for so long, Walter realized the rain had stopped, as the earlier reports had suggested. He wandered up to the roof, hoping the night air and fresh scent of the world after a hard rain would help to soothe his mind, and maybe, just maybe his heart.

-ooo-

Paige sat up on her bed abruptly after replaying the conversation between her and Walter just over an hour ago. She was less angry and more aching. She wished her date tonight was with Walter and not Simon. The more she tried to convince herself that Simon was a good catch – a decent man, the more it soured her stomach. She tried to picture herself kissing Simon, waking up next to Simon, in bed with Simon, but his face kept morphing into Walter's and she allowed those visions to play longer than she knew she should. Paige ran her fingers under her eyes, hoping she hadn't completely ruined the make-up she had so recently and painstakingly applied. She went to her closet to pull out a purse to match her burgundy dress and began pulling the necessary items from her daytime bag into the clutch. When she reached for her phone, she thought only for a moment, and then called Simon.

He answered on the fourth ring. "Hi Paige, I'm just leaving work to get in my car and meet you."

"Hi Simon, ummm…I was wondering if it would be ok if we had a slight change of plans…"

"Oh, you're not canceling on me, are you? I've been looking forward to seeing your pretty face all day."

"How sweet," mused Paige to herself. This is what it felt like to be appreciated.

"No, I'm just wondering if you could pick me up at my apartment. Maybe come in and say a quick hello to Ralph and then we could go—"

"Aw baby – I'd have to take Lakeview Avenue I think to get to your place. Do you know what that's like at this hour?" Simon protested.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just didn't feel like driving. I can just meet you at Beso's for a drink or two. I just might be running a little late." A sudden courage came over her. "Or…" she steeled herself, she could do this, "Or…we could go your place if you'd prefer?" Hearing silence on the other end, she continued with a breathy voice, hoping it sounded sexy, "I mean, I'm so curious as to what your bachelor pad looks like and we could just have a few cocktails there?"

"Well," she pictured him rubbing his hands together like a villain would in an old Western, "that sounds like a great idea, babe." Simon sounded like he was smiling like the Cheshire cat. "It still doesn't clear all the traffic out of LA though, does it? How about I send you my address and then you can take a cab over here? Cab ride's on me by the way."

"How romantic," thought Paige sarcastically. But, determined to go through with the evening, she said, "That's sounds perfect."

After ending her call with Simon, Paige walked over to her dresser drawer and pulled it open. She pulled the tissue paper off of the two pairs of matching bra and panty sets she had purchased, waiting to be worn for such an occasion. She ran her fingers over their satin and lace and thought about how she had purchased them with Walter in mind. She had created fantasies about how Walter would be the one, the only one, to see her in them. How he would have slowly, and nervously unzipped her dress, and been rendered speechless by her—"Oh get over yourself!" her inner voice chided. But she still couldn't bring herself to don the pretty undergarments. The dress she was wearing provided enough support that she didn't need a bra, and the panties she had on were satin and seamless and well, fine. Good enough. They probably wouldn't stay on long anyway. She was going to do this. She had just invited herself to Simon's home and he'd eagerly agreed. If that wasn't an open invitation for a night of sex, she didn't know what was. It was about physical need. There was nothing wrong with it. It was about moving on. But she kept seeing Walter's big brown eyes and picturing how hurt he would be if he ever found out. "This isn't about Walter!" she shouted at herself. And with that, she quickly looked up the number for a cab service.

Well? Reviews please? Thanks for reading! Next up is Simon's lair!