A/N: Appreciate your patience as I got this chapter finished up! It's a longer one! My girls had a nonstop full weekend dance competition, and we're still recovering from the exhaustion. Though, I did have a good chuckle on day two after being there for like 15 hours with no sleep, picture what Walter would be like as a dance dad. That may come to be in a future ficlet. Lol. So, anyway, I appreciate the patience. The girls did amazing, and I am super proud, but was glad to get back to the story!

As always thank you for your stellar comments. Love to see your thoughts!

Xoxoxo

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Thankfully for them, with Paige not being in the wedding, they were seated away from Paige's grandparents, and her uncles… and Susan (who had immediately set out to ask if the reason they'd been missing all day was because they had taken her sexual insights into practice), all of whom were together with the main bridal party at the front table, and as such, left Walter and Paige to be seated at one of the back tables. Their table was much less stuffy, with some extended family Paige had little to no memory of, and quite a few friends of Michael, the groom. One of those friends, Josh, was a software developer and a hobbyist hacker, piquing Walter's interests, and the two had been chatty all throughout the multicourse dinner. The man's wife, Emily, and Paige had also hit it off, with Emily and Josh having a son around Ralph's age, of which she had shared had asperger's syndrome, so they had had much to talk about in terms of motherhood, special children, and loving a nerd.

Having not been a part of the bridal party had its perks, as they simply got to come to the free dinner and had no expectations for themselves other than to eat, and being away from that family tension table meant they could do so in peace. Both of which allowed them to relax. Paige stayed true to her word, only drinking her champagne, and even then, not finishing it, just enough to participate in Julia's lengthy speech and toast. Both she and Walter had been drinking water and club soda, and she was thrilled with that choice knowing that should they ever get that chance to kiss, or more, they would both do so without any doubt as to inhibitions. Making their own new friends, they didn't do a lot of interacting together, unless having a joint conversation with all four of them, but not much just the two of them, other than asking if they'd like another drink or to excuse themselves to the restroom. It was such a simple existence, as if they had done so a million times, like an old married couple entertaining friends, together but capable of leading with their own interests. They sat side by side, usually holding hands, or Walter, seemingly unaware he was even doing so, frequently slipped his hand under the table and rested it, with caressing fingers on her exposed thigh, which made it very hard for her to think, let alone converse with Emily. And for her part, Paige would place her hand at the back of his neck, using her fingernails to softly massage just where his hair started there, loving the feeling of his short hair beneath her touch, or playing with his collar. And every few minutes or so, without breaking his conversation with Josh, he would lean over and kiss her head, or run his fingers through her hair and give her the most fleeting, but sweetest smile, as if he just needed a reminder that she was still there and she needed a reminder that he found her to be the most beautiful woman in the world.

Waiters went around taking photos of the guests, and Paige and Walter ensured they got one together with his phone, as well as a group one with Josh and Emily. Paige had taken photos of the tables and ambiance to show Ralph, and when they got up to take a photo of the s'mores station before it was picked at, Emily had gotten a full length photo of them together, showcasing their elegant attire with a backdrop of the fancy dining experience and the pink sky from the setting sun.

When Josh and Walter's conversation had merged with Emily and Paige's, coding and their sons, Walter had taken the invitation to gush about Ralph and how proud he was of his many achievements and his love of coding. Emily had commented how refreshing it was to see a dad so willing to show pride in his son for things outside sports, and Paige had expected Walter to correct her about being Ralph's dad, but instead he had simply wrapped his arm around Paige's shoulder and said how thrilled they were that Ralph was following his own path, and they were overjoyed with what his mind could, and had already, achieved. Paige, on the other hand, hadn't really known how to take that. It brought to the surface those lingering doubts again. If this didn't work out, it wasn't just her that would be hurt. It was Ralph.

Toby had warned her once, to protect the most important thing, which was Ralph. She had heeded his advice then, but where had that gotten her? Was this going to be not only a giant mistake, but also, the most painful crash to experience as well? And if they did have tonight, even tomorrow… there was still a 3.5 hour drive home after the fact to contend with. It was all so confusing. Her heart said to give in to it, to him, to love, to risk. Risk it all. Take as much as she could for as long as she could. Life was too short and tomorrow wasn't promised anyway. But her brain told her this was not the rational thing to do. This was not smart, or steady, or safe. It was playing with fire, but doing so in a drought, in a timber shed, tied up. She was going to get burned. They both would. It was selfish to go into something so reckless for a few thrills.

As the main course wound down, Emily had excused herself to call their sitter and check in, and Paige followed suit, just needing a moment alone to collect her thoughts.

"I'm just going to walk around a bit." She had whispered politely to Walter who was mid conversation with Josh, as she stood, fixing her dress, and placing her linen napkin on the table.

"Oh, um, okay. Would you like company?" She could tell he was torn between wanting to come with her and wanting to finish his tech talk with Josh, and it brought a smile to her lips. Kissing his cheek softly, she shook her head.

"No, no. Enjoy your shop talk. I won't be long."

The twinkle in his eye as he looked up to her, the way his fingers danced over his knuckles as he took her hand in a sweet gesture to say goodbye, and the way he then wordlessly slipped off his suit jacket and stood to drape it over her shoulders, before sitting back down and resuming his conversation made her feel like she was both on Cloud Nine, but also in The Twilight Zone. If the Jeopardy question had been 'This male proved that chivalry is not dead', her answer would not have been "Who is Walter O'Brien for $500, Alex."

With one last brushing through his hair with her fingers, shaking her head at how bizarre her life had become over the last week, she walked off, leaving the terrace to come stand upon the grass, feeling her heels sink slightly. She could see fireflies off in the distance, and wondered if a young Walter ever captured any in jars. Though, surmised that if he had, it was likely to study them, not to play pretend. She would miss this place. Not the drama, but the rekindling of hope, promise, romance, friendship, that it had given her thus far. Miss the Walter she had been bestowed with her. Miss the possibility.

One week ago at this very moment, she was eating chicken piccata with Walter in his kitchen, an awkwardness about them, looming questions and excitement, nervous energy, but an overwhelming feel of hope and optimism. How a simple favor had turned her life completely upside down in such a short time period blew her mind. How open and welcoming Walter had allowed himself to be, to embrace her in such a way, to simply be here with her, but to go so far beyond, to let down his walls and defenses for her to see the man behind the curtain that rarely came out, to see him fight off the flying monkeys, and face the wicked witch. She definitely wasn't in Kansas anymore. It only made her want him more. What he saw as weakness was truly his greatest strength. Walter was a kind, gentle soul, attentive, caring, passionate, all locked away behind a shield of intellect. He didn't need a wizard to give him a heart, he had one all along, he just didn't know it was there. To be let inside was a true honor and privilege, one that she didn't take lightly. She would miss that, but would never, ever forget how warm it felt to be inside those walls.

And just as with Dorothy leaving, as she thought about the end with Walter, she knew she also shares similarities with the Tinman, for she also knew she had a heart, because she could already feel it breaking.

Why couldn't they just stay in Oz together forever?

"Penny for your thoughts, Peanut?"

She hadn't heard her grandfather approach, for the second time, as she stared out at the neat rows of grapevines, deep in thought.

"I don't know if even you could afford that, Papa." She chided, self-deprecating, as she turned to face the man.

"Hmm. Probably right. But, I would go into debt for you, my dear." Teddy wrapped his arm around Paige's back, settling his hand on her upper arm, as they stood side by side staring off into the distance.

"Thanks Papa. I'm okay." She lied.

"Now, Peanut, if there's one thing I've learned about the women of this family, it's that they keep everything entirely too close to the vest. Come on, tell an old man. You look troubled."

"Oh, you know, life, love. It's always a bit troubling, isn't it? Par for the course." She offered, being intentionally vague.

"Well, I suppose you may be right there. Did Walter do something? You two were gone all day it seemed… Looked as though I may have interrupted something before dinner."

"Oh, uh, no. No. Walter is great, Papa. We had a really wonderful day out. And yes, you may have interrupted… something." She chuckled quietly, still frustrated by the sheer amount of times they had near misses with each other.

"Sorry, Peanut." He blushed with a slight chuckle, eyeing her. "You know, when you were little, we could never get you to slow down. You were running before you had even mastered walking. Your poor father was always rushing to keep up with you. He used to say how you were always searching for the next best thing, always hustling. I knew the moment I first laid eyes on you that you would be different." Paige peered over, puzzled as to where this was going. "I have three children, seven grandchildren, and five great-grandchildren, Paige. But you, you were different from all of them. You never cared for any of this foolishness." He paused to wave his hand around at the luxury and money ambiance surrounding them. "All you wanted was a good book, to run barefoot in the garden, much to your grandmother's dismay, to seek adventure at every turn. No one really knew how to handle that. Except for me." Her brows furrowed, trying desperately to understand. "I was just like you, Peanut. Born into wealth, but wanting nothing of it. When I was twenty years old, I fell in love. The deepest kind of love…" She noticed a wistful, nostalgia about him, his eyes looking off at nothing in particular.

"Must have been, it's been what? Fifty years with Nana?"

"It wasn't with your Nan." Paige's head whipped up so quick in shock. "Nope. Her name was Nancy. Most beautiful woman I had ever known. I loved her with everything I had."

"I never knew this. I don't understand… what happened? How did you end up marrying Nana?"

"Well, my father didn't approve. She didn't come from our type. She was from a simple, but hardworking family. He had already arranged a courtship with the daughter of a fellow business executive, our marrying would bring a merger to the family businesses, and so, demanded I end things with Nancy."

"Wow." Apparently threats over love were a family trait.

"I was a fool, Paige. I did as I was told. Gave it all up. Not for wealth, but for my family. Never saw Nancy again. The arrangement was made, and within the year I had married your grandmother and became my father's junior partner, learning all about finance and day trading. Eventually, I surpassed my father, and expanded the business to include insurance sales, banking, real estate, hospitality, and your Nana's foundation of course. I have been very successful, made my father proud. But I never forgot what I gave up in order to achieve it."

"I don't know what to say, Papa."

"You don't need to say anything. I have had a wonderful life with Nan, she gave me three lovely children, a beautiful life. Truly. I love her, she loves me."

"Papa, I am not sure I am following…"

"Well, Peanut. The first couple of years, I thought about Nancy often, but as with most things, time has a way of moving on. It's rare these days that the thought of her crosses my mind. But, then I watched the way that you and Walter are together, the way you look at each other. It reminds me so much of Nancy and I, so young and in love, full of fire and passion for each other. It's rare. I really like him, Walter. You know me, I don't usually like anyone. But I like this one. He is real, and from where I'm sitting, seems really good for you, very fitting. I don't think I've ever seen you so happy, Peanut." His words, his tone, the way he rubbed her arm, and smiled, she truly believed he was genuine in his message. She couldn't be certain, but she didn't believe he had anything to do with Nana's threat. "I guess what I'm trying to say, Paige, is don't be so worried about the next adventure, that you miss what's right there in front of you. Sometimes, it's okay to slow down and just be." In all of her years, she and Papa had shared many conversations, but he had never opened up like this. "He's good for you, kiddo."

"Yeah… he really is. He makes me really happy, Papa. He really does. Knowing Walter has been life changing, you know? He's a bit of an oddball, but he's amazing, thoughtful, kind. And he's so good with Ralph. And uh, I don't feel the need to chase adventures anymore. Every day with him is quite literally a new one." The grin that spread across her cheeks as she spoke of Walter was radiant, and one that could only be bestowed upon a heart in love. "Papa? If you could go back in time, have a redo, let's say, would you do it differently? Fight for Nancy?"

"Oh, I don't know. That's not an easy question to answer. But, I do know that not fighting for her is something I've regretted since the day I walked away from her."

That broke her heart a little. A life of love with this woman, but instead, he had a life of… Betty. She honestly had no idea how her grandfather could put up with her antics all the time.

"Does Nana know about Nancy? Does anyone know?"

"Not a soul." He paused, then looked back out into the distance. "Well, your mom knew."

That forced her attention on him.

"She did? Wow. I uh, didn't think anyone cared for my mom much, nevermind trusted her with a secret."

"Well, secrets have a way of being told. But with her, no one would have believed her anyhow." He joked playfully, making her laugh.

"I guess you have a point there."

"I miss her everyday." She had not expected a comment like that.

"You guys… you didn't come to her funeral."

"No. No we didn't. I planned to, wanted to, but Nana, well it was too hard. Nana took it hard. I'm really sorry, Peanut. I know you had your issues with your mom, but she loved you, and we should have been there for you, for Ralph. I hope, in time, you can forgive an old man for making a very big mistake. I know how this family has never been easy on you, Paige. Seeing you this weekend, it's really hitting me that you're not that little girl stuffing her pockets full of cookies and climbing the apple tree anymore. You didn't need us then, and you definitely don't need us now. You did it all, on your own. I had hoped you'd ask for help, but I am very proud of you. And your parents would be very proud of you, too. Especially your dad. He was a good man, a good father. Loved you something fierce. Nana never cared much for him, because, like Nancy, he didn't fit her image of what should have been. But he was the best thing to happen to your mom. And just like me, she lost that wonderful gift of being loved by being a fool so focused on the next big thing. Your father would want to see you happy, just like I'm seeing you happy."

She wiped a tear from her cheek, having been entirely unprepared for this conversation.

"I… Papa…" She stumbled, speechless on how to to respond.

"I'm sorry, kiddo. I didn't intend to spring so much on you. I guess this weekend has me feeling a bit emotional. Julia is so much like your Nana. She'll marry Michael, and I'm sure they will build a wonderful life, find a way to love one another. But it'll never be that kind of love you have. She'll never live her life as you do, taking chances, risks, being carefree and unafraid of others opinions. It's sad. Not the legacy I wanted to leave for my grandchildren. So, when I see the dream, I feel I must speak out. That's you."

"I wouldn't call my life the dream, Papa. And I'm fairly certain Nana would also disagree."

Her life? A dream?

"Well, I may love the woman, but that doesn't mean I agree with her. I think you're doing pretty well for yourself, and what's more, you're doing it on your terms. Nothing, not money, not power, can compare to that. So don't let the small minded comments from people who have never truly lived get to you, okay? Just keep on being you, being spectacular."

There was a sadness at the depths of his words, and it broke her heart. He had always been a force of strength and poise around everyone. She had never seen him vulnerable.

"Why are you telling me all of this, Papa?"

"Loss does something to a man, kiddo. Losing your mom, made me realize all the things I never said that I should have to her, how much I loved her, how proud of her I was, how inspired. Maybe, just maybe, I can correct that with you."

She wanted to tell him, tell him that his daughter was alive. But that would also risk her safety, and would be doing so without even discussing it with Veronica first. She was torn, but after everything they'd done to protect Veronica, she couldn't risk it.

"Something tells me she'll get the message, Papa." When she got back, she'd have Ralph help her send an encrypted email to her.

"Theodore! Come please!" She heard the shrill, disapproving voice of her grandmother summoning from the terrace.

"Well, duty calls." Teddy put his mask of stoicism back on, and she wondered if on some level Walter reminded her of Teddy and that was part of his allure. She leaned up to hug him tight, taking a deep breath in of his expensive cologne. He had worn the same one for as long as she could remember.

"Thanks. For being the one that always saw me, and for uh, seeing the good in Walter. In us together, Papa. Means more than you know."

"Always, Peanut. Always." He placed a kiss to her forehead, in a way that only a parent or grandparent could muster, protective, loving and gentle, and she smiled watching him walk off.

Well, that was… something.

She wondered about this Nancy woman, a ghost of the past. Would that be Walter to her someday? Just a solemn, wistful look upon her face as she wandered over all the what ifs of yesterday?

It could have been just a minute or hours she stood there, reflecting on all her Papa had said, all the feelings it evoked in her.

"I wonder if I may have a dance with the most exceptional form of beauty at this party?" She blushed hearing the voice that had come up behind her.

"Well, so long as it's with the most devilishly handsome, and equally brainy, gentleman at this party…" She turned, his suit jacket still hung over her shoulders, to see her knight in nerdy armor, a bashful grin splayed across his face, hand extended to take hers, his crisp white dress shirt ever so lightly moving in the soft breeze of the night. She graced him with a stunning smile of her own, so grateful to be in his company.

"Well, uh, as long as you don't mind settling for me…" He quipped as she took his hand, allowing him to lead her toward the makeshift dance floor at the center of the main terrace, surrounded by fairy lights, soft music playing around them.

"You, Walter O'Brien, are far from settling." She removed the suit jacket, draping it over her chair on the way, catching Walter running his eyes over her as she did, before reaching the dance floor. Her grin grew as he spun her to face him, clasping her hand with one hand, while his other wrapped around her back, his fingers sprawled across the flesh of the open section of her dress, igniting an electricity in them both, while she placed her other hand delicately upon his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"I was thinking, after we danced this morning, in the fields…" He started, as he began to sway them to the rhythm of the music.

"...soaking wet…" She interjected with a laugh.

"Yes. That, too. Well, for Happy and Toby, I thought perhaps, arranging dance lessons for them may be a nice gift. Though, arguably, I am not the best at figuring these things out. Initially, I was thinking of getting tickets for some lectures on family planning, mingling finances…"

"Uh, probably best to not do that, Walt…"

"Right. Being here, with you, has me thinking… differently."

"I, uh, can see that. So, why dance lessons?"

"Well, Happy and Toby are none too light on their feet. Thought they could learn something nice for their first dance as husband and wife."

"Wow. Walter, that's actually really sweet." Her hand migrated to the back of his neck and she felt their bodies getting closer together.

"Well this weekend has had me trying to be more thoughtful, thinking about what you were saying about how Julia and Michael's wedding seems to be a business transaction, and not what a wedding is meant to be - a celebration of the special bond between two people."

"Yes, that's what a wedding should be."

"Well, that got me to thinking about Erwin Schrodinger, the father of Quantum Mechanics…"

"...of course it did." She teased, running her hand absently through the hair at the nape of his neck, as she locked eyes with him, intently listening to his every word, fascinated, as usual, but how his bizarre mind worked and connected the world around him.

"Schrodinger once told a story about how he loved his wife. Love, well, it made no scientific sense to him. He couldn't explain the bond." He was looking so deeply into her eyes as he spoke, as they swayed in perfect unison, the warmth of his body radiating against her own, his fingers caressing her skin. "But he said, when he stared into her eyes, their consciousnesses must have been mathematically identical, because that's when love made sense to him. When looking into her eyes." She could feel her heart pounding out of her chest, could feel the way he tightened his hold on her almost instinctively, could feel the intensity in which his eyes refused to leave hers. "Since, you stare into someone's eyes while you dance… dance lessons just made sense."

She was certain she was going to faint from hypoxia from holding her breath. Her head nodded, nearly imperceptibly, and she smiled, so longingly.

"When you put it that way, it makes a lot of sense." He smiled, that boyish smile, still not breaking his line of sight from her. "I think Schroder…"

"Schrodinger."

"Right. Him. I think he was right, Walt. Things have a way of… making sense… when staring into someone's eyes."

He noted that she, too, was not breaking her eyes from his, and the way the fairy lights were twinkling in them was absolutely riveting. Like watching fireworks in her eyes.

He longed to kiss her, tell her how looking into her eyes was the safest and most sure he'd ever felt in his life, how it was the only time in his existence he was sure that love was real and pure, and illogically logical.

"Yeah, I think he may have been on to something." He blushed, pursing his smile as he twirled her, surprising her.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you had taken lessons yourself, Walter."

"Just from you." As the song came to a slow moment, he did his best to impress her by dipping her back, making her chuckle.

"Well, I do believe the student has surpassed the master."

As he slowly pulled her back up, agonizingly close, their lips nearly touching, breathy and eager, he spoke sultry undertones, as he looked her over.

"You inspire me, Paige Dineen."

Who was this man? She had never once doubted that Walter O'Brien was brave and courageous. She'd known that since the day she met him, but, being brave while facing life or death, and being brave in facing her were entirely different situations, and this bravery was not something she knew how to handle.

"Walter…" She felt her words catch in her throat, wanting desperately to close the distance between… again. To finally put an end to their separation. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she could feel his racing through his chest that she was pressed against, could feel his ragged breath, and that terrified excitement in his eyes, as his hand pushed into her flesh as though he was trying to melt into her.

He wanted her. All of her. Wanted to consume her into his very being. Talking with Josh and Emily, he knew exactly what he wanted - that life. The wife. The son. The family. All of it. With her. He wanted to have weekend getaways with her where he could gush about his son and his life to strangers, because having that life with her would be worthy of gushing about. When they had assumed Ralph to be his son, he couldn't bring himself to correct them. The mere idea of it had always been his dream. Having Ralph as his son would be the greatest gift, and a job he would take so seriously. Being a part of raising him, watching him reach his full potential, watching him reach every goal he sets, and even seeing any failures and mishaps along the way, would be a true joy. Being there for his first girlfriend, learning to drive, watching him graduate, helping him move into his first apartment, get married, have children of his own, there would be no greater feeling than to be able to witness that, especially if he could do so at her side. Having them both.

But to have all of that, he needed to muster up the nerve to tell her. To kiss her. To stop dancing around her, and dance with her. Tentatively, he leaned closer, ready to seal the deal.

"Ladies, gentlemen. Dessert will be served in just a moment, if everyone could kindly make their way back to their seats." Leonard announced, breaking their moment.

This kiss was never going to happen. They both sighed, Paige closing her eyes, her brows raised in amusement and defeat. Walter just chuckled, rubbing her back.

"You do love dessert." He offered, trying to be uplifting.

" Not the sweet ending I was looking to indulge in." She muttered as they made their way to the table, causing him to laugh silently and wrap his arm around her back, holding tight at her hip, and placing a kiss to her head.

Getting back to the table, they noted how the dinner plates had been cleared, to be replaced with clean dessert plates, coffee cups and saucers, fresh silverware, and atop each plate, a roll of mints with a custom label. Walter held out Paige's chair for her to sit before taking his own and picking up the mint roll.

"Mint to be." He looked at it quizzically, making Paige laugh. "That doesn't make sense."

"It's a play on words, Walt. Mint. Meant." She patted his thigh under the table sympathetically, and amused.

"Ah, yes. How… clever."

"Welcome to wedding life, dear. Where everything is cheesy."

"There has indeed been an abundance of cheese here." She choked on her water laughing at his expense. "Oh. I see, you meant cheesy, as in poor quality. Not actual cheese."

"Oh Walter. Don't ever stop being you." She leaned her head on his shoulder, hugging his arm.

"In the literal sense, I don't think it would be scientifically possible to stop being me. However, I suspect you meant a less literal manner of speaking, as you find humor in my quite literal interpretation of common phrases. In which case, I will do my best to continue to do so, as I enjoy your laughter."

He was nervous, rambling even, and she was very much enjoying it.

As the night continued, it was clear to them both that eventually, they would be alone with each other, with the looming sexual and romantic tension hanging above them. They were bound to have to face it.

It made him nervous.

Very nervous.

After trays of decadent desserts were passed around, Walter and Paige opting to share a Creme Brulee and tiramassou, at Paige insisting that "variety is the spice of life", coffee was served and the evening's formality was beginning to wane.

"Want to make some s'mores? Warm up by the fire?" Paige asked, pointing to the roaring fire pit. She was chilly, but didn't want to be obvious about it, enjoying simply Staying as close to Walter's side as she could to keep warm, but with bare legs, and a bare back, and the cool breeze, it was becoming a bit too much, needing to have actual heat.

"Oh, here. Take my jacket again." He quickly offered, taking it from the back of his chair and again draping it over her shoulders, running his hands over her arms to ignite warmth with friction.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that. But, I appreciate it."

"I have a greater body mass, thereby conserving more heat than you. Plus, I am… uh, well…" He paused, trying to find a tactful way of addressing their clothing differences.

"Fully clothed?" She joked, seeing where he was going when he looked her up and down.

"Well, yes. Though, I wasn't sure how to say that without sounding like I was inappropriately observing your bare legs." She chuckled. Only Walter.

"Come on." She stood, taking his hand. "You can inappropriately observe my bare legs by the fire."

"Oh, I… um, well… I uh, that's not…" He stuttered, nervous he had screwed up once again.

"Relax, I like you inappropriately observing me, Walter." She tossed over her shoulder, dropping his hand, as she sauntered her way to the fire pit, leaving him to stare after her. His suit jacket completely hid her dress, making her appear as though she was wearing nothing but the jacket, and it forced some inappropriate thoughts into his mind.

Like what she'd look like wearing nothing but one of his dress shirts.

"Walt? You can observe from over here." She teased, as she broke him from his lustful gaze.

"Hmm? Oh, I wasn't… well, I was. I'm just… okay." He shook his head, lost on any way he could refute it, and made his way to her side a bashful smirk on his face. She handed him a long wooden skewer. "I uh, have never done this before."

"What? Inappropriate observing of my bare legs?" She was having entirely too much fun messing with him, as she placed a marshmallow on her stick.

"No, I have done that… plenty." She looked over with a playful smile and a quirked eyebrow. "I meant this…" He held up the skewer and a marshmallow.

"You've never made a s'more?" She asked incredulously, running through every rooftop fire they'd had, every campout with the forestry brave he'd gone on with Ralph. "How is that possible? We make s'mores all the time on the roof."

"Well, I've never wanted anyone… namely… you… to find me foolish for not knowing how, so I simply stand back as everyone else makes them." She stared on, shocked. "You, uh, always end up making me one."

"I always thought it was because you thought they were unhealthy! Or illogical." She was so bewildered. "You never made them? Even as a child?"

"No. Never. Though, to your observation, that is why I did not partake as a child."

"Well, I'm going to teach you. Walter O'Brien, prepare to make the best s'more of your life!"

She loaded his stick with marshmallows.

"You don't want to put them too close to the end, or they'll slip off. Now, put it above the flames. It will catch fire if you go too close. You're a genius, what am I saying, you know that. Of course you know that. Me personally? I like them burnt. Flaming ones are my favorite. Super gooey on the inside, crispy and charred on the outside. Perfection. But, not the best for s'mores. For a good s'more, you want it to be toasty, golden perfection. So when you bite into it, it's just gooey enough that it's melty, and it's also melting your chocolate, and adheres to the graham cracker. So above the flame, and rotate it slowly to get all the sides."

He had a 197 IQ, toasting a marshmallow was not rocket science, but he really enjoyed her teaching him, in a way that taught the enjoyment, not just the science.

"How's this?" He also really enjoyed how close she was to him, holding his hands on the stick, her face touching his shoulder.

"You're doing great, Walter." She looked up, baring a full toothed grin, her eyes crinkling in delight at him. "Now, you have your classic style, which is your basic Graham cracker, chocolate bar, and the marshmallow. Or, you can get fancy."

"Fancy s'mores… that's intriguing."

"Alright…" She peeked at his marshmallows golden color, and proceeded to grab a couple of Graham crackers. "Bring it here. Now, this is how I like to make them. Don't think too much about it. Just know it's delicious."

"I trust you."

"So you start with your graham cracker, then, instead of your classic chocolate bar, I do a peanut butter cup. Sweet and savory."

"...and protein."

"Yes, and protein. Then we amp it up even more… with bacon."

"Bacon?" He asked, unsure.

"Just… trust." He nodded, finding great joy in watching her work, and her eagerness to show him. "Now, to avoid getting your fingers covered in melted marshmallow, lay the marshmallow with the stick on the bottom half of your sandwich…" He did as instructed, carefully not to stab her as she held the bottom layer of cracker and peanut butter cup, laying the marshmallow atop. "Good. Then we cover with the bacon and the other cracker, squeeze together, and now pull the stick." Be removed the stick from the sandwich, and smiled at her excitement. "See? No messy hands, just deliciousness!" She held out the sandwich to him, which he accepted.

"Is there a trick to eating this monstrosity without making a mess?"

"None that I've ever learned. Just… dig in." She pulled his phone from the suit jacket pocket, having felt it in there as she was walking, and snapped a photo of him and his first s'more.

Attempting to be dignified, he took a bite, taking a moment to appreciate the flavors.

"I can see why you like the bacon on it. Salty sweet. It's very good… very… you."

She grinned proudly, making her own.

"Told you. Just gotta trust the process."

"Never doubted you for a moment. Thank you… for educating me on s'mores technique." He added, taking another bite, unceremoniously getting melted marshmallow all over his chin.

"You, uh… got a little something." She chuckled, coming up, impossibly close to him, using her finger to wipe off a dollop of the gooey mess from his chin, and locking eyes with him licking it from her finger. His gulp was audible enough for her to hear, and she flashed her eyebrows up at him suggestively, her lips pulled tight in an equally suggestive manner.

"Mmm. Yummy."

He was going to have a stroke if this kept up, at bare minimum, could pass out from all of his blood rushing away from his brain and going… south.

"I'm just going to go… wash this off… in the bathroom…"

"Okay, Walter." She said playfully, intentionally being obvious about checking him out.

With that, he turned and rushed off to find the restroom. He needed to get control of his physical being around her, which was getting harder and harder, as were… other things. He had never had someone affect him like this before, where he was not in control of his own reactions. Usually, he was able to turn himself off and on very easily.

But not with her.

Splashing some cool water on his face worked to both reset his senses, and also clear any residual sugary treat. However, when he returned outside, she was no longer at the fire pit. Stopping to look around, he caught a quick glance of her off at the edge of the terrace with a couple women he recalled being introduced to the night before, second cousins he thought, and smiled watching her. She was making small talk, and clearly wishing to be anywhere else.

"Mr O'Brien, nice to see you this evening. You and Paige appear to have had an enjoyable final day together." The mere sound of her voice made him long for the sounds of nails on the chalkboard, or the distinct snapping of the ruler hitting the backs of his hands when he would mouth off to his teachers in grade school.

"Ah, Mrs Thompson. So lovely to see you." His resolve of niceties was wearing thin in general, but was completely exhausted with the evil queen, allowing his utter sarcasm to ooze from his every word.

She stood before him, arrogance, disdain and superiority coming off of her in waves. He thought back to when he first saw her, and how commandeering he had found her to be, like Cabe. Only… evil.

"Did you have a nice day, son?"

"I am not your son. And yes, Paige and I had a very enjoyable day… away from here… and you."

"Don't get crass, now dear boy. It's childish and very unbecoming of you."

He had never wanted to hit a woman, and would never hit a woman. But, in that moment, he felt like she would deserve it. Perhaps a satellite could fall from the sky directly on top of her.

"I want to know why. Why do this to her? Try as I may, I cannot make sense of it. Paige is your granddaughter, and while my understanding of familial bonds is albeit limited, I am able to recognize that this is wrong. I am a man of logic and I simply cannot find any logical reason for you to do this. What do you gain from it?"

"Mr O'Brien, the why does not concern you."

"Then take my company, and I will tell Paige everything. There has to be some reason that a woman of your status would want to ruthlessly hurt her own grandchild, take her happiness--" He started, on for her to spin toward him hastily, with a fury in her eyes.

"Because she ruthlessly took my daughter from me!" She quickly regained her composure, clearly embarrassed at her own outburst, straightening her gray dress, and placing her mask back on.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand. How did...?"

"Veronica was coming home to us, Mr. O'Brien. She had had her fun with that boy, Paige's father, and was coming home. Was ending it. Was set to marry a boy at Teddy's firm. But then she found out she was pregnant, and threw away her life, her family. We begged her to terminate the pregnancy. But she refused. Instead, she ran off, getting married to that man. No education. Didn't have two pennies to rub together. But she turned her back on her family because of that child, because of Paige. And look what it got her! A life of crime. Prison after prison. She didn't even raise Paige being in prison all the time! That girl took my Veronica's life." Walter was way outside of his EQ wheelhouse, standing there stunned, confused, angry. "And then she finally got out of that Arizona prison, was turning her life around last year. We spoke with her. She was so excited to be starting over, getting her head on straight. Was discussing legitimate business planning with Teddy. That's when we learned of your precious company and you. Your love of Paige." His eyes squinted as he recalled their first conversation, how she told Paige she knew nothing of Scorpion, and how she believed Paige to still be working at the diner. She had lied then, just to make Paige feel uncomfortable. "Veronica was with you and Paige on your case Mr O'Brien when she was killed. All because she once again wanted to try with Paige, to be part of her grandson's life. A child born of wedlock, challenged… once again, forcing her to turn her back on her family. She was so desperate to be with that boy that she died for it. We saw it on the news. We watched her die. And it was because of that girl, and her dreadful son. She has been nothing but trouble since the moment she was conceived. And you and your company contributed to my Veronica's premature death. And for that, you both will pay the price."

He was completely bewildered. If she could just speak with Paige, she'd understand. Paige helped her. She didn't kill her. None of this made any sense, but even he - the king of poor communication skills - could see this was a big miscommunication.

"Ma'am. Respectfully, you have no idea what happened that day. If you just spoke to Paige..."

"I know all I need to know, young man. And you know all you need to know. Now if you'll excuse me, I have people to see. I trust there will be an end to this relationship by tomorrow, or I assure you Mr O'Brien, there will be an end to your precious Scorpion."

"Yes, you have made that abundantly clear."

"And if need be, Mr O'Brien, I will ensure Paige faces a life as miserable as my Veronica had. Don't play games with me, young man."

With that, she walked off, leaving Walter to his boiling blood and need to hit something.

Meanwhile, off the terrace, out of earshot, Paige was watching on to the conversation, which appeared tense and heated, and Walter looked as though he might actually slug her elderly grandmother. She was a bundle of nerves. This was it. The end. Watching him carefully, she noted how he rubbed a hand through his hair, settling at the nape of his neck, followed by vigorously rubbing his face. He was upset, by the looks of it, very upset. When a waiter passed by with a tray of what appeared to be whiskey or scotch, she was surprised to see him grab one of the glasses and knock it back in one gulp. Whatever had just transpired between Walter and her grandmother was bad.

Very bad.

His eyes began to scan the crowd, and she knew he was looking for her. Being too afraid of what was to come, she spun on her heels, unwilling to let him see her face, to know she had seen, though not heard, what had transpired. She pulled his jacket tight around her in the cool breeze of the night, rubbing her own arms in an attempt to comfort herself, and warm herself from the ice cold blood that was now circulating through her system, staring out at the fields, the spot they danced in within view, willing herself not to cry. She willed the arms of the jacket to hug her soul much like he had.

It was magical while it lasted, and she would find a way to be okay with that. She would have to.

She didn't see him rushing across the terrace once he spotted her with her hair being lifted in the light breeze, she didn't see him charge across the lush lawn, a man on a mission to cross the distance between them. She didn't see the look of pure determination upon his features.

All he could think of was how beautiful, and powerful and strong, and worthy, and wonderful she was. How she made him laugh, and love and smile. How anyone who couldn't see how great she was was simply wrong. Empirically wrong. And how he wanted to spend a lifetime erasing the voices of everyone who ever made her feel she wasn't absolutely perfect and worthy, even his own. How he wanted to love her and be loved by her, and have a lifetime of photos and memories and a giraffe figurine for every birthday.

She could hear his footsteps, hurried, behind her, but refused to turn. What she didn't expect was for them to not slow down as they reached her but rather abruptly stop just behind her as his hand simultaneously, and forcefully, spun her body around.

"Wal--" She didn't have a chance to scold him for nearly knocking her off balance, because as soon as she faced him, his eyes, pained, hungry, impassioned, met hers and within a millisecond, his lips crashed down upon hers, pulling her body so tightly to his own, holding her with such ferocity, kissing her with such unbridled passion, making her legs feel weak, and her heart nearly give out. His lips were soft and warm, but frantic and seeking more, which she granted, matching him at his pace. Once she came to process the moment, she had her hands running through his hair and gripping the back of his shirt to not collapse in his arms. When his tongue sought entry, she was a goner, opening her mouth, and her soul to him, their tongues dueling in passion. The taste of whiskey was fresh on his tongue. A soft moan escaped her, drowning in his mouth as he pulled her hard against him, his hands exploring her bare back beneath his jacket.

It felt like centuries locked in that kiss, a kiss so powerful, no one would ever interrupt it, and she knew if she didn't pull back, she would be undressing him with an audience, but the idea of breaking away first was too hard. The memory of their last kiss and how abruptly it had ended still raw in her mind. This kiss felt so powerful, igniting all of her senses, numbing her mind, making her forget hernown name. Three years of love captured within it, and she couldn't help the painful twinge in her chest knowing this kiss was the start of goodbye. Finally the need for air became too great, and she broke their lips apart, resting her forehead against his, clutching tightly to the front of his shirt to keep him close, and to keep from falling, feeling very weak.

"Walter..." She drew out from shallow, rapid breaths.

"I've been wanting to do that for a very, very long time." He moaned out and every nerve in her body tingled in response.

She met his eyes, passion and yearning swirling in them, but only at the surface, beneath that held so much love and promise. It was confusing, and painful, and yet the warmest she'd ever felt.

"Yeah, I've been wanting you to do that for a very, very long time."

"I uh, must admit, I don't know what to do now." He looked so unsure all of a sudden, not only realizing there were dozens of people around, but also, knowing what could come next.

"You wanna blow this popsicle stand?"

"I don't know what that means, Paige."

"Let's get out of here, Walter." She ran her fingers delicately down the side of his cheek, leaning up to kiss his lips, softly, gently.

With fluttering eyes, he nodded silently, taking her hand in his, and together they walked the short distance back to the terrace where Leonard gave a knowing wink to Paige as he cleared away some empty glasses, making her blush. With only an exchanged goodnight with Josh and Emily, Walter collected their gift bags from their seats, and the two, being as covert as possible, snuck into the building.

Once inside and out of view of prying eyes, Paige turned to hungrily set her lips upon Walter's once more, pushing him into a corner, catching him mildly off guard. Not that he minded, wrapping his hands around her, trying to feel every bit of her he could within acceptable means in a public space. Her touch, her lips, her tongue, his physical response was definitely outside of his control, feeling his pants straining as she pushed her body against his. They were making out like a couple of horny teenagers, with her pushing him against a wall, in the main dining room, where she was rubbing against him, and he was very, very turned on.

He needed to slow this down, cool down, take a cold shower. Minutes passed, and things were not slowing down, and he caught himself several times forcing his hands away from the clasp of her dress. He wanted her, but wanted to respect her and her dignity. Be in private. Not just maul her body. He needed to cool himself down.

"Ice cream!" He blurted out against her lips as her wandering hand began pulling at the hem of his shirt. Her body froze, eyes fluttered open, and slowly, she pulled her lips back to look up at him, confused, amused, breathless.

"I'm sorry… ice cream?" Her hands didn't leave him, and now that they were inside, where it was well lit, he could see that her lipstick had been mostly rubbed off, a soft red hue surrounding her lips, and he had to assume his also looked the same. She bit her lower lip trying to make sense of him, playing with his tie.

"I was trying to think of cold things." He offered in response, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Right… cold things…" She looked down at her feet, a blush spreading over her cheeks as realization dawned on her. "...because things are getting too… heated?"

She knew this was a mistake.

He could tell he had disappointed, perhaps even hurt her feelings a little, and he wanted to kick himself.

"I uh, well, I don't want to… rush… things… with you. You deserve better than that, Paige. I, um, would like to take you to get ice cream. A late night treat. Call it the best end to the best day?"

She smiled, albeit, embarrassed, but smiled.

"Okay. Ice cream. I suppose you're right, we could use a little… cooling down." He leant down to capture her lips once more, a kiss that was assuring, so she knew he wasn't saying no, he was just taking a breath. "This makes three desserts, Walter. Very unhealthy." She teased, taking his arm and leaning against it as they walked.

"Well, it's a good thing that passionate kissing is said to burn up to 20 calories per minute then." He gave her the ultimate school boy charm smile, as he led her to the car.

"Is that actually true? Or just a line so I'll make out with you?" She teased, leaning back against the passenger side door.

He brought his hand up to brush some loose hair away from her face, a wide grin across his features as he leaned in against her body, hovering just shy of her lips.

"I only speak facts. But… Facts have their benefits." He closed the gap kissing her once more, shivering at the feel of her under the weight of his body pinning her, and her fingernails scraping lighting along his spine.

"Alright Wonderboy. Let's go get some ice cream." She gently pushed him back a step, with a smirk, allowing him to open the door for her, before turning to look back at him suggestively over her shoulder. "But I fully intend on burning off the calories… later."

As she stepped into the car, he gulped, staring at her with such passion. She was going to be the death of him.

"Yes ma'am." He chuckled, closing her door and rushing around to the other side. Something told him he would be burning a lot of calories. And he would enjoy every single moment of it.

Was this what it felt like to have every moment of your life fall together? Betty would be taken care of, his plan was in place, he was confident in his cards. So, for tonight, he was just going to enjoy the start of something wonderful with her.

Paige smiled watching him rush around the car. Was this the feeling of getting everything you'd ever wanted? This was the moment right before the other shoe drops. It was a beautiful feeling. Tomorrow would come, and that shoe would drop, and it would suck, but for tonight, she would simply enjoy being with Walter, enjoy saying goodbye to what would have been the start of something so wonderful with him.

"Ready?" He asked with a smile, fastening his seat belt.

"I've never been more ready." She said sincerely, taking his hand in hers.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but tonight would bring ice cream.