Chapter 10: In What She Said

Despite what he told people, Walter O'Brien knew he felt things. He felt fear, though, his impulsiveness usually kept it at bay. He felt love, he just failed in finding ways to express it appropriately. He felt loss, but he was a master at burying it. He felt pain, but could will himself through it like the best of them. He was skilled at keeping his feelings masked behind a curtain of indifference. A stoic facade. Sure, he failed to display EQ, he failed to process his EQ, he failed to express his EQ. But unlike what he said, Walter O'Brien did possess EQ. He had feelings. Strong ones.

It's just that, until she came along, it was very easy to shut them out and keep up the curtain.

But she came in, like Dorothy in a tornado, and ripped down his curtain revealing the Great and Powerful Oz for who he really was. A man. A man, that while gifted with intellect, was still just a man, whose heart beat, and lungs breathed, and soul felt.

Nothing made him more aware of this than standing in front of her condo door, dressed in a sports coat and button down shirt with tie, holding an exquisite bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, nervously shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, checking his watch every few seconds. He had told her 7:00pm. It was 6:57pm. He was early, and was fighting himself on whether it was appropriate to knock, or if he should wait the three minutes. He had already been standing there for close to ten minutes, but that had been too early.

Beads of sweat were forming on his palms, one resulting in an unpleasant sensation within his new glove device. The other making it difficult to hold the bouquet.

They would be going to a nice restaurant, but he suddenly felt nauseous and had no appetite.

What if he messed this all up?

What if this was a first and a last date?

What if none of this worked out?

What if he lost her?

Walter O'Brien, the wizard himself, was terrified. He was nervous. He was worried. All things he claimed he was incapable of feeling.

He checked his watch again. Two minutes.

Thoughts of the last twenty-four hours invaded his thoughts, as he continued to stand there awkwardly.

The feel of her skin against his. The way her laugh against his chest tickled him. How incredible it was to see her toothbrush still beside his as he got ready for their date. How calm she made him. How completely exhilarating it felt to be close to her. How open his heart had become. How liberating it was to let his walls come tumbling down.

One of Paige's neighbors, and older woman, with a small dog, walked by, giving him a little wave.

"Taking Miss Paige out?" She asked.

"Uh, yes. Yes, ma'am. We are going on a date. Romantically. We are now engaged in what would at one time be referred to as a courtship." Walter ever so awkwardly responded, gaining him a light chuckle from the man.

"Well, young man. She is a wonderful young lady, great friend." He smiled with a nod of agreement. She sure is. "She must think very highly of you. Don't believe I've ever seen her go out in all the years they've lived here, just working." That made him oddly sad. He remembered when he first met Paige, and had accurately assessed that she was overworking herself to provide a decent life for Ralph. He gave the woman his best interpretation of a normal smile. "Well, you two have a lovely evening. Take good care of her." She said kindly, with a smile. He could tell from her expression and how she spoke of Paige, that the woman thought very fondly of Paige and Ralph.

"Thank you. I will." He watched as the woman moved along, walking up to her door only a few down fro Paige's, before looking back at his watch.

7:00pm on the dot. Thank you neighbor lady.

Awkwardly, as to not over bend his fingers, he knocked on the door. It was mere seconds before the door opened, revealing the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

"Walter." She flashed him a smile that made him feel week in the knees, as she stepped aside, allowing him entry.

He took a moment to look her over. Her hair was styled in soft curls, but more "done up" than her usual work hair. Her makeup was heavier, but not overdone. and gracing her body was a stunning black cocktail dress, that hugged her body at every point, flowing down to her knees, falling just shy of modestly on her chest in a V shape, with small straps on her soulders, and coming from the sides of her chest. As she turned to let him in, he could see that the back of the dress was open, with those same straps lacing back and forth. She had black, strappy heels, which made her just a few inches shorter than him, and dangling silver earrings that made him chuckle internally, hoping they'd stay put today. She was gorgeous. Simply gorgeous.

"You...You look...umm, wow. You are stunning." Walter stammered, feeling much like he did that night they went to the gala for the arts, seeing her come out in that dress, being unable to form coherant words. He figured at least this time it was better than the yes he had shouted at her then.

Her face tucked down as she blushed, sneaking a peak back up at him.

"Thank you, Walter. Is it too much? I didn't know where we were going, I can always change." She was nervous too. It made it feel better.

"Uh, no. Don't change. You are perfect. I mean, you are dressed perfect. Um, no, you are perfect. I'm just going to stop talking now. These are for you." Why was he being such a bumbling buffoon? It's just a meal. He had been intimate with her last night, and yet, this was so nervewracking.

"Walter, they're so beautiful. Oh my, and chocolates? Wow. Thank you. You didn't have to do that." The sight of her smelling the flowers, appreciating his gesture made him feel on top of the world. "And here I was thinking you were having second thoughts." She walked off toward her kitchen with the flowers as she dropped that last line, and confused, he followed after.

"I don't understand. Why would you think that? Have I done something? Did I forget something important? Oh, because I didn't inform you of the location and appropriate attire for the evening?" He was panicking. He knew he would mess something up.

"Oh my god, Walter. No, no. None of that." She was laughing as she filled a vase with water.

"I'm confused then." Women, he was learning quickly, were a mystery he may never fully solve.

"I saw you through the window about twenty minutes ago. So, when you didn't knock, I thought you were having second thoughts."

Idiot. Should have knocked.

"Oh. I had told you seven o'clock. I arrived sooner than anticipated, so I waited until it was exactly seven o'clock. I'm sorry if that gave the wrong impression." Facts. Just the facts.

"Oh Walter." She had such an awestruck look on her face. "I supposed I should have known that. You are nothing if not a man of his word. But for future reference, you may come in early."

"I wouldn't want you to feel like I had invaded your space, or was rushing you. It's my understanding that women often take longer to ready themselves." Awkward Walter was definitely back.

"You wouldn't. I promise. And yes, we women like to take our time to get ready." She placed her hand on his chest, feeling the lapel of his jacket. "So, did you just stand on the steps the whole time?"

"Well, I had a brief discussion with your neighbor, an older woman with a small dog from a few houses down. She seemed pleased that you were going out for the night. That provided two full minutes of distraction while I waited." She was trying very hard not to laugh at him, he could tell.

"Mrs Ferguson. She's a great lady. Sort of adopted Ralph and I as her family when we moved in, her children all live out on the East Coast. She watches Ralph for me, and we help her out with some housework and errands. She makes the best banana bread, every Sunday." Her smile was so bright, he could listen to her talk for hours. "Ralph and I try to have her over for dinner once a week or so. She's been teaching him some old family recipes, and how to make pasta from scratch. Of course, it ends up being him teaching her the math and science involved in cooking, but they have a great time." Walter smiled at the thought of Ralph cooking with this woman. "And he adores her dog, Bailey, helps her out with him giving him walks when her knees are acting up. She got him after her husband passed away a couple years ago to keep her from being loney. She's always telling me I need to go out more, meet a man, be young and fun while I still can and all." There was an air of joyfullness as she spoke of her Mrs Ferguson. He loved that about her. She could befriend anyone, and make any stranger feel like family. He could personally attest to what an incredible gift that was, to be included by her.

"Sounds like a wonderful woman." He wondered if Paige spoke this fondly of him, or the other Scorpion team members. Wondered if she spoke of them at all, ever. He wouldn't ask, but he was definitely curious. That would be his new goal, to be worthy enough to have Paige speak so highly of him to others, that his role in her life held such an impact, she couldn't help but gush about it wistfully as she had done earlier with her father, or now with her neighbor.

"Yeah, she really is. Anyway, I'm sorry, I'm rambling on about Mrs Ferguson when I should be focused on our date."

"Please, don't apologize. I like watching the way you light up when you talk about something that matters to you." That earned him a sweet smile. He wanted to kiss her, but wasn't sure that was acceptable behavior before the date had even began.

"You're sweet." Yup, he definitely wanted to kiss her. "So, where are we going? You're not bringing me to Chuck E Cheese, right?" She grabbed her purse, sitting off lights as they headed toward the door.

"I don't know what that is. Do you sample cheese there?" Yes, in the forest, with the exterminators.

"No, no. Definitely not." Her grossed out look, and laugh piqued his interest. "More like communicable diseases, delivered by a giant rat." He wanted to inquire more, but he was also sure that was a bad idea.

"Oh. Well, I can assure you that I will not be taking you to any rat infested locations. I made us a reservation at Escala." He was still confused, but he surmised that he would remain that way for many, many things if he were to be in her life, and in the human world. Remembering his guide on chivalrous behavior, and her lessons taught first hand at that gala, he opened the passenger door for her, her smiling in kind and touching his cheek in appreciation and pride that he had remembered.

"Escala? I love that place! It's so hard to get a reservation there, how did y--... nevermind, you're Walter I'm not even going to ask." He closed her door and quickly went around to the driver's side.

"You mentioned once that you love it there." He hastened a quick sideways glance at her as he pulled the car out to the road, watching as she wracked her brain for the memory of when she would have mentioned it.

"Walter, that was in like February!" He stayed silent. This would be incriminating if he spoke. "Wait! The business dinner! On Valentines!" He could feel the red rushing up to his face. "Were you going to take me to Escala then?"

"I do not recall."

"Walter O'Brien. You are a terrible liar." She was smirking, and he couldn't help the smile that rose to his own lips when she laced her fingers with his gloved hand. "You know, I had questioned if that that business dinner was your way of attempting a date. Valentine's Day and all." He still refused to speak. He knew he had been caught. She had him figured out. "I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed when you canceled." He finally turned to look at her, her face aglow with the passing street lights. He had nothing meaningful enough he could say to that.

The past was the past, he was looking forward to their future, and hoping he wouldn't make idiotic moves like that one again.

"Well, we're here tonight." She added, squeezing his hand gently.

At the restaurant, Walter did everything he remembered from the Gala, he had been rehearsing it all in his mind for hours. It was an equation. A simple formula to success. Follow the steps, check the boxes. Pulling the car up to the vallet, he exited, and went around to open Paige's door, extending his hand out for her to take.

Check one.

As she stood and fixed her dress, he offered his arm to her, being a proper escort, just as she had taught him last year. She took it gleefully, wrapping her arm around his and leaning in to his shoulder - very different from last year.

Check two.

Arriving to the door, he paused, opening it for her, and holding open, motioning for her to enter, earning himself a "Such the gentleman" and pursed grin in return.

Check three.

After offering his name to the hostess, he allowed Paige to reclaim his arm, as they followed her to the quiet table. "Your server will be with you on just a moment. Enjoy your meal." Carefully, Walter pulled out the chair for Paige, making her giggle under her breath, just enough that he heard it. He imagined she was just as surprised by his behavior as he was. Taking her seat, he assisted in pushing the chair back up to the table.

Check four.

"You're taking that chivalry checklist very seriously." She giggled, reaching for the drink menu.

"Is it that obvious?" Crap, was he overdoing it? Being too robotic? Was he a million miles from normal?

"Yes, but I love it." She gave him the sweetest eyes over the menu, teasing, playful.

"I just want you to have a nice, normal night for once. I know I'm not normal, but I'm trying."

"I appreciate the effort. But, Walter, you don't have to try so hard. No, you're not normal, but that's what's so great about you. You're special. You're very... you. And you are wonderful." The menu had been forgotten, placed down so she could reach across the table and take both of his hands in hers.

"I must admit, I feel... inadequate... with you. I'm afraid you'll realize that to be true, that you'll become disinterested in my ability to be what you need emotionally." Walter confessed, a solumn, uncomfortable expression gracing his face.

"You feel inadequate? Walter, you're the smartest man in the world..."

"Fourth." He interjected.

"... sorry, FOURTH. See? I don't even have a number. I don't understand ninety percent of the things you say, none of the math, none of the science. My night school grades average with Bs, and I'm fairly certain you have never once received anything less than an A..." He opened his mouth to speak, and she quickly added "... except maybe in gym class." He smiled and nodded. "Walter, I feel inadequate every day with you, with all of you. I worry you'll get bored with me, that I won't be able to fulfill you on an intellectual level." He swallowed hard. He feared something would come between them, and they hadn't even ordered a drink yet.

"Are you saying that we are incompatible?"

"What? Walter, no. I need you to stop overthinking so much, okay? This..." she motioned between them. "...is good. We are good, Walter. Sure we are very different. And we will probably drive each other crazy in many ways, and have to be creative to ensure we're both having our needs met, but I think we are very compatible, Walter. So, don't worry so much, okay? Let's just... enjoy... us."

"That sounds...logical." She was right. Of course she was right. Before he could say anything else, their server had arrived.

Not one for alcohol, he ordered his usual club soda, but insisted Paige enjoy a drink, with her settling on a glass of wine. Paige ordered a pasta meal, and seemed surprised when he ordered a steak and didn't ask if they had fermented fish. He had had that for breakfast, so it seems the logical selection to go for steak.

"While I am still healing, it's important to have a balanced diet containing foods dense in protein, which beef has plenty. Beef is also an excellent source of several vital nutrients to brain and muscle health, such as iron, zinc, selenium, riboflavin, niacin, vitamin B6, vitamin B12, phosphorus, pantothenate, magnesium, and potassium." He declared proudly."

"Wow, that's a lot of information about beef. Um, how would you like that cooked, sir?" The waitress, a young girl around twenty, asked, a cross between amusement and confusion in her tone, and on her face, as she shifted awkwardly, no doubt questioning if Walter was drunk, making Paige snicker to herself, hiding her smile behind her wine glass. He was so excited to share his wealth of knowledge.

"Medium-rare please. Fun fact! The more well done a steak is cooked, the more potential for it to contain carcinogens called heterocyclic amines, versus meat that is cooked for a shorter period of time. However, interestingly, the amount of time the steak cook does not effect the amount of nutrients."

"I don't think I've ever learned so much at a table before. I'll um, just put your orders right in, and be back with some bread and your salads." The waitress fled the table, like she was running from the plague.

"Oh Walter, I don't think I could ever be disinterested in you." She chuckled coyly, squeezing his hand. He didn't understand was funny, but as usual, he didn't suspect he would understand even if he asked.

Taking a moment he looked around the restaurant, it was a beautiful establishment, had a small live jazz band playing, and even had a small dance floor. He observed several couples swaying to the soft harmonics. Impulsively, he stood up.

"Is everything okay?" Paige asked, concerned as his abrupt movement.

"Yes, I would just like to ask if you would like to...dance...with me, that is. There. On the dance floor." He was greeted with a extraordinary grin as he held his hand out to her.

"I would love to." She stood eagerly taking his good hand, letting him lead her to the small dance floor. Remembering their dance at the gala, without being told, he placed his gloved hand at the small of her back. "You remembered, well done, Walter."

"Well, I'm slightly less nervous about touching you as I was the last time we danced." He chided, stroking the bare skin of her back.

"That's why you were acting so odd? I thought you were just a terrible dancer, or it was just your normal aversion to touch. I didn't think you were nervous to touch me." He lead them in a slow dance, swaying together in sync, as she looked at him, completely mystified.

"Well, I am a terrible dancer, and I do have an aversion to physical contact, however, with you I find that aversion seems to subside. Though, I don't quite understand how that is possible."

"Well, you're growing Walter. Progressing. Becoming more human. It's only natural that you would experience changes with that, like overcoming your aversion. Even if it is just with me."

He was enjoying holding her, publicly, as they swayed and turned to the music. Free to touch her, free to stare into her eyes, free to be with her, take pride in being her date. No ruse to dancing with her, no mission, no crisis, no false pretenses, no Sylvester in his ear asking why he was so impatient, no rich men taking her away.

"I was just thinking about the differences between the last time we danced and now, and there's one distinct similarity..." a laugh left his mouth, and she turned to look at him inquisitively.

"Us?"

"Well, that too, but this hand was injured the last time as well."

"You know, Walt...you can dance with me without being injured." She chided back as he noticed their waitress placing their salads and bread on their table.

"Noted." He kissed her cheek softly, delighting in the warmth of her skin against his. Just as the song ended, he took her hand and lead them back toward their tabls. "Thank you for this dance, my dear."

Check five.

"Your two left brains aren't so terrible at dancing." Paige remarked, referencing the joke he had made that night. "I love when you tell jokes. They're rare, very unique, like little Walter unicorns." He was tempted to debate her on the assumption that unicorns were rare, and not just imaginary, but thought better of it. Sometimes he knew how not to ruin a moment.

They sat, Paige sipping her wine as they ate their salads.

"Well, I have a most excellent math joke for you then." She bit her lip, then licked it ever so slightly, before putting her fork down.

"Ah, yes. Math humor, the best of all the unicorns." He was pretty sure that was sarcasm, but, again, he wasn't about to ruin this.

"Well, it's a scary joke about math, but I'm 2-squared to say it." His excited little boy smile made her laugh far more than his terrible joke.

She moved her cleared salad plate to the edge of the table as she spoke through her laughter, "And that is why I love you." They both immediately froze, and she locked eyes with him, panicked. "Oh, god. Um, Walter. I uh, I didn't... I don't... I..." For his part he just stared blankly at her, mouth agape, fork frozen in mid-air, lettuce hanging from it. "Oh god. Walter, please, say something. I have messed this up. Let's just pretend this didn't happen and oh god, I am so mortified."

Once again, his brain was not braining.

Paige said the L word.

It was like an old cartoon playing in his head with a bunch of random rodent creatures performing a marching band routine, clanging symbols together and pounding on drums. The words that followed were lost to the internal noise. All he heard was the L word.

"Walter! Say something please." Her voice broke through to him.

"Hmm? I'm s-sorry, w--wha-what?" He blinked in very rapid succession.

"Walter, I'm begging you. Please, say something. Anything. I'm in full mental breakdown mode here." He noticed the panic on her face, and grew concerned.

"You said the L word." Facts. Super facts.

"Oh boy." She muttered, covering her face with her hands.

"I'm sorry Paige, I'm just, uh, processing."

"No, no. No processing. Forgetting. This is so new, and I know you're not there so please, just forget." Her face was red, her voice pained, and her body was extremely tense.

Slowly, he put his fork down on his plate, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

"I am going to ask you a question, and I need to answer honestly, okay?" Silently, she nodded through her embarrassment. "When you said what you said, did you mean it in the sense of friends and family what you said, or romantic what you said, and if it was romantic what you said, did you mean it?" He knew he was sounding like a fool, but he needed to know.

"Walter..." She clearly didnt want to answer him.

"Paige, I'm not running. I'm processing, and in order to do so, I need all of the variables. That's all." Facts. Just facts.

"Okay. But, I answer and then we forget it, okay?"

"Understood."

"I meant it in a romantic, 'in' what I said , and yes, I meant it. I just didn't mean to say it. Yet." She was actively avoiding his eyes.

Tentatively, he reached across to take her hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but just as he did the waitress appeared with their meals. He sighed, defeatedly, but Paige appeared relieved by the interruption. He counted the seconds, trying to be polite, while anxiously awaiting the young girl to leave.

Finally.

"The food looks great. How's your steak? Cooked to your liking?" Her attempt at changing the subject did not go unnoticed.

"Uh, yeah. Yes. It's thermic ratio is most favorable." She smiled a half smile, the awkward tension between them palpable. "Like you." His attempt at word play was clearly lost on her as he took in her puzzled expression. "Hot. That was my way of saying you are, um, hot. Which is a slang adjective to describe ones beauty or sexiness." That worked. She laughed.

"Thank you, yes, Walter, I, um, know what hot means." She shook her head humorously. She was at least somewhat relaxed now.

"Paige?" She looked up inquisitively, and he took her hand once again. "You said yet, so, not yet, but when you're ready, I'm in love with you, too." Now it was her turn to freeze. "I told you, I'm not running. This, for reasons I cannot explain, does not scare me. So, I will forget, until you tell me to remember. Okay?"

The glassy look in her eyes, the way her eyebrows rose ever so slightly while being pulled together, the way her lips parted, her breathing slowed, and her grip on his hand tightened reassured him that he had said the right thing.

He hoped.

"Okay."

He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

They were okay.

They were happy.

They were in what she said.

He'd call that a check six.

The rest of the meal went by in comfortable, easy conversation, both feeling relieved by their admissions. Even if they were forgotten. Walter regaled Paige with tales of growing up in Ireland on a farm, Paige told him stories of living in hellish conditions with a baby Ralph, leaving her terrified of rats, to which he questioned if that was where her concern for the cheese sampling place had been derived from, which had made her laugh again. They talked about Ralph, and his intellect, and how he was making friends, connecting personally to others. The spoke of Happy and Toby and their shenanigans, and questioned whom besides Cabe, would be the first to figure them out. Walter bet on Toby, mostly because he wouldn't let it go, whereas Paige bet on Happy, stating that she might be quiet about it, but she was always observing and questioning. Walter was about to bring up Megan and Sylvester, when two desserts - Baked Alaska - appeared with their waitress, and not the check.

"Oh, I'm sorry, we didn't order this." Paige politely pointed out.

"I know. Another party that came in for take out ordered them for you." confusion washed over them both as they exchanged looks between them and them and the waitress who was visibly very uncomfortable, and opened her order pad to read something. "I was told to tell you that Baked Alaska is the most scientifically interesting dessert, to thank you for breakfast and to tell you that they were happy to be celebrating you being together."

Paige's jaw dropped like an anvil.

Walter, in typical Walter fashion, spoke to the waitress.

"Do you know why Baked Alaska is the most scientifically interesting dessert?" He was gearing up, excited for another culinary science lesson.

"Walter, honey. Leave the poor girl alone." Paige scolded playfully.

"Ah, yes. Sorry." He muttered to the girl. "I'll take the check from you whenever you get a moment." Politeness. He could do that. Check seven.

Paying the check - check eight. He was on a roll.

"Oh, well, that party actually covered your bill. You're all set."

Quickly, Paige pulled up the most recent team photo on her phone.

"Was this them?" She held the phone out to the girl, still reeling from this development.

"Uh yeah, yeah that's them. Well, those two." She pointed out Happy and Toby.

"Thank you."

"Yes, uh, thank you for your exceptional service this evening." Walter added, not really sure what to say or do in this moment.

"It's been...interesting. Thank you both. Enjoy your dessert." And off she went.

"What the hell just happened?!" Paige querried, as Walter dug into his dessert.

"I'm not certain, however, my guess would be that Toby hacked my computer and saw that I hacked the restaurant's reservation system for tonight, and came here to see what I was up to, and Happy, well, she's Happy." Facts. Just facts. Walter took another bite, as Paige looked on, face of annoyance. "You know Paige, this would be a great culinary experience for Ralph to try with your neighbor, it really is the most scientifically interes--"

"Walter!" Oh, he knew that tone. It was not a good one.

"Yes my sweet?" He was not above flattery as a means of getting out of trouble.

"If you say scientifically interesting one more time, I'm going to cover you in meringue and cook you in a 450 degree oven."

"Understood. I am gathering that are displeased with the dessert?" He was looking at her cockeyed, much like a dog that was confused.

"What? Walter, were you even here just now? Toby and Happy know. As in know, about us." She was growing impatient with.

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that, Walter!"

"Are you concerned about that?" Unchartered waters, stormy seas, and his captain was speaking in riddles to him. He had no idea how to navigate this one.

"Aren't you? We agreed that it would be best to wait to tell people." She didn't seem angry, and the annoyance was gone, she just seemed worried. About what, exactly, he had no idea.

"Well, rationally speaking, we didn't tell anyone, so really, we have not diverted from our original plan." He took another bite of his dessert. "You really should eat yours. It's quite magnificent." She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head slightly at the absurdity that was conversing with Walter O'Brien. With sharp movements, she took the spoon and dug in, taking a bite. Her face of enjoyment said it all. Taking another bite of his own, he said "See, magnificent and scientifically--" She shot him a death glare, and swallowing the cold inner ice cream with a gulp, quickly changed what he was about to say. "--riveting." She rolled her eyes at him and snickered. "Paige, relax. Everything is going to be fine. I'm not worried, we planned on telling them, so it's not as though it was a secret, and if it were, we were both awful at maintaining that secret today. I counted at least a dozen instances where one of them would have been likely to figure it out, and that was just with my interactions. Nevermind when they were all pretending not to notice us in the kitchen. And we both know everyone eavesdrops on everything at the garage."

"I guess you're right." Quickly, he tried to run back through every conversation they had ever had. He was certain he had never heard those words come out of her mouth.

"The good news is, it would seem they are accepting of our relationship."

"And we got a free meal out of it." She joked, clinking spoons with Walter in toast. "I guess that just leaves Sylvester."

"Something tells me he was kept aprised." She nodded in agreement. They could both picture Sylvester on the comms listening in, voicing his discomfort at spying on his friends and wishing to not be involved.

"You know if Sylvester knows, he can't keep a secret, especially from Megan. Are you okay with that?"

He looked toward her, but beyond her, mulling over his thoughts before speaking.

"I planned on telling her, much like I planned to tell the team, so this is a much more efficient means of information disbursement." Facts. Strictly, facts.

"Walter, I'm not talking about efficiency. I'm asking of you're okay with Megan, your sister with whom you love dearly, learning of our relationship through the team, and not hearing it from you directly. I would be upset if Ralph found out from anyone beside us, and I'm wondering if the same is true for you with Megan."

"I concede your point. I suppose on some level, it would have been more meaningful to have shared the news with her myself. I'm not upset with anyone over it, but I guess one could describe my emotional state as being one of disappointment." Still facts, but more human facts.

"Well, maybe tomorrow we could go and see Megan after we tell Ralph, or before, and you can tell her in person. And before you tell me that it would be inefficient since she likely already knows, consider that perhaps Megan would also prefer to hear from you directly."

"I guess I can't really argue with that logic." She smirked, a face of success he chalked it up to. "Under one condition."

"Why is everything conditional?" She joked, to which he made no reaction. Typical Walter. "What's the condition honey?" That got a reaction. He enjoyed the terms of endearment just as much as she did.

"You let me tell you why Baked Alaska is the most..." he paused, choosing his words wisely. "...technologically compelling...dessert."

"Oh good lord, Walter O'Brien. Just tell me about the damn dessert so we can get on with our night." She hammered out exasperated. He lit up like a lighthouse on a foggy night as he explained, in great detail, the complexities of the dessert. She wanted to be annoyed, that much was clear, but the way she rested her chin on her hand, lips pursed, with the corners of her mouth pulled up in amusement listening to his animated presentation, eyes locked on his, he knew she was not annoyed. She was beguiled by his quirkiness.

Finishing their desserts, Walter threw some extra cash down on the table for an additional tip for their server, telling Paige she had earned it for being so inquisitive about meat science. She had laughed but let it go. Just as he had when entering, he offered his arm to escort her from the restaurant, held the door for her, and after retrieving the car from the vallet, opened the door once more for her.

Perfect gentleman, all the checks.

As he slipped into the driver's seat, she took hold of his hand.

"Thank you for your exceptional chivalry, but also for being your normal nerdy Walter self. I had a wonderful date with you, Walter O'Brien." She leaned over to kiss him, but he stopped her.

"The date isn't over yet, my dear." He said excitedly. "And I promised to expect nothing more than a kiss goodnight, and I am not saying goodnight yet." She laughed, leaning back into her seat, accepting that she would not be getting her kiss yet.

"Alright Romeo, take me on an adventure."

He smiled, pulling the car out into traffic.

Romeo was a reference he actually understood.