A/N: Just a fluff ball for you to choke on, cause the next chapter of Secrets will not be a ball of fluff. :P
The smell of garlic and lemon sautéing in the pan wafted through the kitchen, making the small apartment feel even cozier. Paige moved around the space with practiced efficiency, opening cabinets and pulling out ingredients while humming a tune. Typical dinner time. Dinner was shaping up to be a comforting classic - chicken piccata, Ralph and Walter's favorite.
Walter, however, was lingering. Dare she even say, hovering. As always. He leaned against the counter, seemingly engrossed in something on his tablet. But Paige noticed he'd taken up residence directly in front of the spice rack she needed.
"Walter…" She said with an exaggerated sigh, "Excuse me." It was easily the tenth time since starting dinner she had had to physically move his body out of her way.
He glanced up, eyebrows raised, his expression a picture of innocent confusion.
"Oh, am I in the way?"
"Where else would you be?" Paige teased, her hands landing on his hips. She guided him gently to the side with a firm push, her fingers lingering for a moment before she leaned up and planted a quick kiss on his lips, as she always did. "There. Problem solved."
Walter's lips twitched, but he kept his gaze on the tablet.
"I'll try to stay out of the way." He murmured.
But not two minutes later, he was there again, this time standing in front of the drawer with the spatulas.
"Walter, hunny…" Paige said, this time with a laugh. "I need that drawer. You're killing me!"
"Oh, this one?" He made a half-hearted attempt to step aside, but it was far too slow to actually be helpful.
She rolled her eyes and repeated the process: hands on his hips, guiding him firmly to the left.
"You're worse than Ralph when I'm trying to cook! For someone so set on efficiency, you sure do hinder my ability to be efficient." She joked before dropping another kiss, this time a little longer, with Walter running a hand up her side, before he ducked his head, feigning disinterest, but his lips quirked upward in a small, satisfied smile. By the time she reached for the pasta pot to strain, he was blocking the sink. Paige let out a mock-groan and turned to him, crossing her arms.
"Okay, now I know you're doing this on purpose!" She accused, with a laugh, stepping into his space.
Walter tilted his head, pretending to consider her words.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
She laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair.
"You are such a terrible liar."
He dropped the act, his smile widening as he leaned down, so their foreheads touched.
"Sorry, I just like the way you touch me when you're frustrated and move me over. And how you always kiss me afterward. It's… nice."
Paige's heart melted, her teasing expression softening.
"Walter O'Brien." She said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "If you want affection, you don't have to sabotage dinner. You just have to ask."
"But this way…" Walter countered, his hands settling on her waist. "I get both affection and the added bonus of spending more time with you while you're in your element. I enjoy watching you cook."
She grinned and pulled him down for a proper kiss, her lips settling on his for longer than was necessary.
"Well, if you keep getting in my way, we're never going to eat. And I'm pretty sure Ralph will stage a rebellion."
Walter chuckled, reluctantly stepping aside.
"Fine. But I reserve the right to stand in inconvenient places if it means I get more of this."
"Tell you what, you can stand in my way after Ralph goes to bed, and I'll give extra affection." Paige said seductively, laughing as she turned back to the stove.
"That sounds like a most efficient plan, yes." He stuttered as she giggled, before settling at the kitchen table, still smiling, content to watch Paige cook, knowing he'd found the perfect way to get exactly what he wanted… her undivided attention.