She paced frantically back and forth in front of the door, trying desperately to work up the nerve to knock, to go in, to speak to him. It was simple. Just... ask him. It wasn't a big deal.

Right?

It would be fine. She would ask, he would answer. They could move about their night. It would be fine.

It's not like she was asking anything ridiculous. She was simply asking a friend for a favor. That's all.

Because they were friends.

Good friends.

That care deeply for each other.

Special friends.

The kind of friends that would risk their lives for each other.

She knew this was coming, and she mentally kicked herself for not being better prepared.

Things had ended with Tim, but even before it was official, it had been over for a long time. She knew it. He had known it. She had known it when she received that pretty envelope in the mail. But, stupidly, she had held on to something she knew she shouldn't, out of pride, desperation, loneliness. But now, that envelope was cursing at her and she needed to address it. Julia's call today, and her subsequent fumbling out words she never should have said, did not help.

She had really messed this up.

She paced again, drawing a deep breath, and tilting her head back, looking up to the ceiling willing it to give her the courage.

And that was how he found her, coming up behind her up the stairs, clearly surprised to find her there, on a Saturday afternoon, anxiously pacing outside of his loft apartment door.

"Oh, uh, Paige... Hi. I um, I didn't know you were here today. Have I forgotten something?" He moved slightly past her to open the door to the loft, holding a brown grocery bag in one hand. He was wearing jeans and a simple white tshirt and the look was wreaking havoc on her senses. Taking in her obviously rattled and anxious demeanor he grew instantly concerned. "Are you alright? Is it Ralph?" He took her by the elbow, leading her into the loft, where he stood, staring at her a wash of worry on his features.

"Oh, um, no. I'm fine, Walter. Ralph is fine. He's with Sylvester at the comic convention. Thank you. We're... fine." His entire body visibly relaxed at her words. Hers, however, did not. In fact, her nerves only skyrocketed. "I'm sorry. It's Saturday, I shouldn't intrude. This was a mistake. I'm just going to go." She was halfway out the door when his voice, and subtle chuckle, stopped her.

"Paige? What's going on? You don't seem... yourself." She didn't turn, but could feel him getting closer. Though, she startled when he spoke again, as he was directly behind her back. "I hesitate to even say you seem... flustered." His hand gently touching her shoulder to turn her around had her feeling dizzy. She turned, but wouldn't, couldn't, meet his eyes, afraid even he, the man incapable of normal human emotion, would be able to see the effect his close proximity meeting her already jumbled nerves was having on her. "Paige, what is it?"

He had no idea why he wasn't nervous. He should be. Rationally, her behavior would normally have him swimming with sharks type of nerves. Maybe it was because he had recently actually swam with sharks. Maybe it was because seeing her, normally so composed, now such a flustered mess was on some level amusing to him. Maybe it was because only one of them could be that nervous at once and she was definitely filling the anxiousness quota. Maybe it was because seeing her so worked up, and knowing that she was at his door, presumably to see him, on her day off, and it wasn't a crisis, had him feeling an excitement like never before. Maybe it was because they had been getting closer again, and he was too afraid to drive her away by also being nervous. Regardless of the reasoning, he felt unmistakably calm.

"It's stupid..." She mumbled, running her fingers through her hair. Something he had only seen her do when she was frustrated.

"Nothing you say or do is stupid." He only spoke facts, and she knew it. It gave her a little nerve to look at him. "Paige. Just tell me. Whatever it is, I assure you I will never view anything regarding you as stupid."

"I know that. I do. I'm sorry. I uh, don't even know why I'm so... rattled."

"Okay..." He drew out, moving toward his kitchen to put the grocery bag on the counter, her voice catching him off guard.

"I came here to ask you to be my date." She rushed out in one rapid breath, stopping him dead in his tracks, and the grocery bag dropping like bricks to the ground.

"I'm sorry...did you...?" He turned slowly, blinking rapidly, certain he had misheard her.

Date?

Groceries were everywhere.

"Oh my. I'm so sorry, Walter. I didn't mean... I wasn't... and your groceries... I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have..." She was kneeling in front of him, collecting the dropped food items that had scattered. It took him several moments before he joined her, her rambling confusing him more than her declaration. "Are you making picatta?" She asked, cutting off her own statement as she picked up two lemons rolling away.

"Uh Paige." Nothing. "Paige." Still nothing. He grabbed her hands, stopping her quest for produce. "Paige?"

"Yes?" She looked at him, her eyes wide as saucers, but feigning an innocent smile.

"What is happening right now?" He wanted to laugh, this was easily the most entertaining form of bewilderment he'd ever experienced. Seated on his knees mere inches from her, he was able to fully appreciate the beauty in her very frazzled expression. "Did you just ask me to go on a date with you?"

She breathed in sharply, looking down to where his hands still held hers on her knees.

"I, uh, well, I mean, sort of. Well, I did, but I should probably explain." She shot out exasperated.

He couldn't hold back the chuckle anymore. His insides were doing somersaults, the sheer idea of Paige saying anything to do with the word date and him together was enough for him to feel faint. Standing, he pulled her to stand as well.

"Come sit." He tried to pull her toward the sofa, but her eyes darted back to the mess of groceries. "I'm not worried about that..." With guilt stricken eyes, she reluctantly followed him to the sofa, and was amazed when he made no move to release her hands, and sat so close that their thighs were touching.

"Okay. I will explain, and then you can answer. But please don't feel obligated, pressured or anything like that. You can say no, I won't be offended or hurt. Okay?" His eyebrows rose in anticipation.

"Okay. I'm listening." Trying to soothe her some, he squeezed her hands, and allowed his thumbs to gently rub over her knuckles.

"Okay, well, my cousin Julia is getting married next weekend..." He blinked. Weren't they discussing a date? "In Fresno."

"Okay...? Did you want to take Friday--"

"No, Walter... I'm not coming to you as my boss, here." Her nervous snicker had him even more confused.

"Oh. Um, okay..."

"It's a full weekend trip thing at a Vinyard. Well, the thing is... I had already RSVP'd with a Plus One..." He saw a brief flash of sadness cross her eyes. "...but then, you know... Tim... anyway, so now I am without a date, and I had already mapped out the weekend for Ralph to go to Tyler's for the weekend... and he just doesn't really want to go to the wedding, so I don't want to force him." He nodded slightly. He knew Paige would never force Ralph to attend something he wasn't comfortable at. "Well, Julia called today, and she's just... dreadful, and well, in the heat of her grilling me, well, I sort of, well, I perhaps, maybe... told her... you were my date." Realization was dawning on him, he stared at her intently, processing. "You don't have to go, of course, I know it's a big ask... but I was wondering, maybe, if you don't have plans, if you may want to be my... date. For the weekend. No pressure or expectations, just, uh, friends... though, admittedly, my family will view it as more..." She was studying him as he studied her and couldn't read his expression at all. He was in a Walter rabbit hole that she had sent him down. "I don't know why I said your name. It just came out before I could stop it. I mean, you are my closest friend, so maybe that's why, and well, weddings kind of suck when you're alone, and I'm not particularly... close... with my family, they tend to be a bit like vulchers attacking... I can ask someone else or go alone, but I just thought it would be far more enjoyable... with... um, well, with you."

"You want me to be your date for your cousin's weekend long wedding event, 3.5 hours away, where your family will likely be inferring us to be more than friends?" He said it slowly, digesting and clarifying her request.

"Well, um, yes." Her teeth were clenched so tightly she felt they may crack.

"Without Ralph."

"Also, yes."

"Just, uh, you and me..."

"Again... yes."

"Right."

"Walter, it's fine. Really, like I said, I know it's a big ask, and it's such short notice. It's really fine. Don't worry about--"

"I'd love to." His boyish smile had her swooning.

"Wha--"

"I said I would love to. It sounds like a pleasurable way to spend a weekend."

"It...does?"

"Yes. It does. I'd be honored to be your date." He stood, releasing her hands, and walked over to the grocery mess, picking items up as she just stared at him in shock. "Friends... or uh... otherwise." He braved a quick glance, and smirk over his shoulder and he could tell he had stunned her with his suggestion. He rather enjoyed the feeling, in fact. It wasn't often he left her sheechless, and it certainly wasn't often he felt brazen enough to openly flirt or make suggestive inuendos to her. "I was going to make picatta for supper, care to join me? You can fill me on the details?"

"I'm sorry, just like that? Just, yes... and picatta?!" She chuckled, this was not at all going how she had envisioned.

"Well, I suppose we could order take out..."

"Walter O'Brien!" She laughed outwardly at his puzzled expression.

"Did I say something wrong?"

She finally pulled herself from her spot on the couch to join him at the counter.

"Are you sure you want to go to a wedding with me? It's not like it's just a couple of hours, Walter. It's all weekend. Socializing all weekend. With not just normal humans, but ones that I unfortunately share genetics with." He chuckled at her grimacing face.

"Paige, I'm sure. I won't leave you alone to the vulchers. Besides, it will be good practice for Happy and Toby's wedding." She twisted up her mouth into a thoughtful expression, her eyes narrowed at him. He held up the lemons. "Stay, please? Let me make you dinner?" If boyish charm and eagerness could be bottled, he would have enough to fill an entire apothecary.

"Walter, you're giving up your weekend to be my date, dealing with my insufferable family, to make sure I'm not alone. I should be making you dinner." The lemons were pulled from his hand before he could process it, and she was already grabbing his cutting board and knife. The ease in which she moved about his loft kitchen had him mesmerized, as if she felt at home, and clearly knew where he kept everything.

"Together, then?" He asked, pulling out his sauté pan.

She bumped his shoulder with hers, a pursed grin on her face.

"Yeah, I think... together... is a good plan. We, uh, work pretty well together." Her words were heavy with meaning that did not go unnoticed. He smiled back, rosy in his cheeks.

"So, tell me about this wedding. I've never heard you mention a cousin."

"Yeah, I probably haven't. We aren't very close. We were when we were young. She is the daughter of my mother's brother. But that whole family distanced themselves from us when my mother spent more time in jail than she did attending holidays and birthday parties. Then, I had Ralph as an unwed single mother, and he was so... different. Before I met you and understood why..." She shot him a smile, still so thankful for that. "Anyway, they can be really judgmental, and cruel and ignorant. I didn't want him to be on the receiving end of a careless remark. We've just never had much of a bond since childhood. We send Christmas and birthday cards, talk every now and again. Maybe see each other once a year." They worked together seamlessly as they prepped the food while conversing.

"I see. I'm sorry to hear that. Doesn't seem very fair to you." He was trying so hard to be a good friend lately, and she just wanted to hug him and tell him what a good job he'd been doing.

"Maybe, maybe not. It doesn't really bother me anymore, I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything. But, when I got the invite, I knew I would hear an earful on my life and it's track to nowhere." Her voice betrayed her with how dejected she felt.

"I don't think I understand. Paige, you've built an incredible life for yourself, and for Ralph. You're smart, talented, successful, by far the most incredible mother I've ever encountered. What could they possibly think is a track to nowhere?" He was so serious and genuine, and she had to fight the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

Instead she laughed.

"Well... Mostly my love life, Walter. They don't see success the same way you or I do. You can be successful and wealthy independently, or you can be married to someone successful and wealthy. Preferably both. What you can't be is a still single mom with no romantic prospects, in her mid 30s, who, while comfortable, has to budget carefully and work full time. I think it's part of why my mom went down the path she did. That need to keep up with the Jones's."

"Oh, their name is Jones?" She giggled.

"It's an expression, Walter. It means that you're always trying to keep up with the neighbor with the nicest house, the friend who always has the latest tech, the PTO mom who always has time to bake things from scratch for the bake sale, and volunteer three days a week... just always trying to be and do more to fit in with the people you feel inferior to." He nodded in understanding.

"Ahh. I suppose I can understand that feeling." Dousing chicken cutlets in flour, he hesitated in continuing. "Uh, do you, uh... wish, you uh, had a more... to say, fulfilling... love life?" It was the first time she'd sensed nerves on him since she had arrived, and on some level it eased her.

"Don't we all?" She let out a humored sound from her throat and smirked his way. "I'm happy with my life, Walter. Don't get me wrong, but yeah, I wish there was... more. Someone. You know, that someone who knows my favorite meal, and makes me feel calm when I'm feeling anxious, that I can go on adventures with, but also just do the day to day monotony with. Someone I could be there for, and he could be there for me." She was making no effort to disguise the fact that she meant him, as he continued to coat chicken to make chicken picatta, her favorite meal, and judging by his shy smile and subtle glance her way, he recognized it.

"I see. That, uh, does sound... fulfilling." Making quick work to wash his hands, he turned his face to her. "Would it be... easier... for you, if you had a romantic partner..." She faced him, her eyebrows pulled together questioningly. "...at the wedding, I mean. With your family. Would it be easier for you? Would they treat you more respectfully? My knowledge of familial relations are, uh, lacking."

"Oh, um... I suppose so. At least their comments would lean toward 'when are you getting married' and less about how I'm going to die alone, a poor old woman surrounded by cats." She joked, laughing, but bit back her laughter when she saw the way his face scrunched up deep in thought. "Walter, are you okay?"

"Hmm. Yes. Just thinking." He broke from his thoughts, returning to prepping the meal, and avoiding eye contact with her. How he so desperately wanted to ask her to let him be that partner. "So, uh, tell me the plans for the weekend."

"Oh, well there's a meet and greet thing Friday night at 7:30, so figured if we hit the road by 4:00, we'd only be a little late getting there with traffic. It's going to be vulchers, wine and lots of cheese if I had my guess. Then a rehearsal dinner Saturday night, but I'm not in the wedding, so I think my role in that is very limited. We would have most of the day Saturday to do whatever, and then Sunday morning there is a guest brunch, and then the wedding is at 4:00. With it being a long weekend, we could either drive back late Sunday night, or stay and drive back Monday, but I'm sure you'll want to get bac--"

"Let's drive back Monday. It'll be safer to drive during the daylight hours, when rested, and since we'll be hurrying to get there Friday, it'll give you a chance to see the sights along the way. You, uh, enjoy sightseeing."

Who was this man and what had he done with the real Walter?

She smiled, sneaking a look at him. There was a sweetness and excitement embracing his features and it was making her chest flutter.

"Okay. Uh, Monday it is then." She saw him purse back a grin and she was certain she was dreaming. "Thanks Walter. For doing this. I, um, just... thanks."

"Of course. That's what friends do, right?"

Or it's what people who are desperately in love with someone and will do anything to spend an uninterrupted weekend away with her do...

"Right. That's what uh, friends, do."

She considered carefully on whether to tell him that the hotel was already booked and they would be sharing a room, but thought perhaps, she wouldn't scare away her gift horse just yet.

No, right now she would do mundane tasks like making dinner, her favorite dinner, with the amazing man at her side who was going to be her date...

As a friend... or otherwise.