Chapter Seventeen
Walter paced outside the infirmary where Paige and Cabe were getting checked
out by the base's medical personnel. "It's just some bruising and a couple
of cuts," said Toby. "They're both going to be okay."
Stopping in front of the shrink who was sitting in a chair next to Happy,
Walter muttered as he glared across the hall at Tim, "No thanks to him."
"That's it." Toby got to his feet and grabbed Walter's shoulder, dragging
him away from the others. "Paige could be dead if not for Tim," he said,
coming to a halt once they were out of earshot. "He risked his life by giving
her his jacket."
"So that makes him the big hero?" Walter shook off the psychiatrist's hand.
"She shouldn't have been there in the first place. You heard him over the
com. He almost blew the whole op by losing his temper when Copley goaded
him about his partner. He deliberately put Paige in danger."
"Listen, buddy, I know you love her," Toby said. "But you can't protect her
every second of every day. You have to step back and let her live her life
and make her own decisions, and yes," he continued as Walter opened his mouth
to protest, "you're not going to like some of them. You can't keep smothering
her. You're going to snuff out any feelings she has for you if you don't
give her some breathing room."
"I. . .I. . ." Sagging back against the wall, he pounded his fists on it
in frustration. "I. . .I can't lose her."
"Well, you're going to if you don't stop pouting like a baby. . ."
"I am not pouting."
"Yes, you are." Toby sighed. "I get it. You're threatened because Tim shows
up with Channing Tatum's body and Mitt Romney's hair and you think you can't
compete with a guy like that. Well, guess what?" he said, "you're no slouch
in the looks department yourself and Paige loves you for more than your curly
hair and dark brown eyes."
"You're wrong." Walter's attention was distracted as the infirmary door was
opened and Cabe walked out. Mr Perfect Intern hurried over to the older man.
"Oh, you think so?" The shrink indicated the two Homeland agents. "If you're
not worried about Paige falling for his charms, maybe you're worried Cabe's
found himself a new macho son figure he'll like better than you."
"That's preposterous. We've done here," Walter stated as he pushed himself
off the wall. "I'm going to check on Paige."
Toby shook his head as the genius stalked down the hallway. "Man, he is messed
up," he said before going back to sit next to Happy again.
Walter put his arm around Paige's waist to steady her as a plane hit a pocket
of turbulence. She had fallen asleep almost as soon as they had taken off
from base in Djibouti, her head lying on his shoulder. He couldn't rest,
couldn't shut off his mind as the image of her getting shot replayed over
and over again.
He could have lost her because he had let himself be persuaded into trusting
someone he barely knew. Someone who had turned out to be a lying, untrustworthy
prick.
Anger boiled up inside him as he glared at Tim, who sat on the other side
of the transport. The other man must have felt his scrutiny because the intern
looked over at him with an expression Walter couldn't even begin to read.
"Ugh." Sitting on Walter's other side, Cabe ran his hand over his face as
he woke up. "Did anyone get the license of the truck that ran me over?" he
asked before groaning as he shifted in his seat.
"Yeah, it was Mack One Two Punch," said Toby. He and Happy were cuddled up
between Tim and Sylvester.
.
"Very funny, Doc," growled the Homeland agent. "Seriously, I'm getting too
old for this shit." He glanced down at his watch. "Where the hell are we
anyway?"
"By my calculations, somewhere over Texas," Sylvester declared.
"I was stationed in Corpus Christi for six months," Tim volunteered.
Walter tightened his hold on Paige as the former SEAL and Cabe swapped stories
of different military bases where they'd been stationed. She moved restlessly
against him, unconsciously wincing when she moved her right arm. The doctor
at the base had been less than helpful, giving her a topical analgesic for
the pain and telling her to keep her shoulder mobile so it wouldn't freeze
up.
He knew deep down he was responsible for their injuries, both Paige's and
Cabe's. Allowing Tim to be added to the team had been a mistake, he changed
their whole dynamic. But on the bright side, they would only have to put
up with the asshole for a few weeks until he was either reassigned or reinstated.
Walter couldn't wait.
A few hours after the team had returned to the garage, Walter rose out of
his desk chair. Abandoning the report he hadn't been working on anyway, he
walked toward Paige's desk, going over his plan. It was nearly three in the
afternoon, and he intended to offer to go pick Ralph up from school, hoping
she would want to come with him. If she did, he would take them both out
to dinner, then he anticipated she would ask him to stay at her place and
even he knew they couldn't do anything because of her injury, he. . .
A solid shape abruptly interrupted his thoughts and blocked his progress.
Looking up, Walter frowned. Tim. Standing there with a big dumb grin on his
big dumb face.
"I think we got off on the wrong foot," the trainee began. "Why don't we
go grab a meal together later? Get to know each other better?"
"You lied to us. I don't like being lied to." Walter glared at the former
SEAL. "Did you lie to Cabe too? Rook him into going along with your mission?"
"The government assigned the mission." The friendly smile disappeared. "And
Cabe knew what he was getting into and he said nothing but yes."
"So why keep it secret from the rest of us?" No doubt the lying jerk had
an excuse for that as well.
"Because he knew we might take fire," Tim explained. "Our orders were shoot
to kill. He knows that's not your thing. He was trying to protect you."
Walter took a deep breath. Dammit, that sounded exactly like something Cabe
would do. Still, he didn't like being kept in the dark, especially when it
wasn't just him personally at risk, but the rest of his team as well.
"Fine, you didn't lie. So. . ." He tried to go around the intern but Tim
stood his ground.
"Now that we've settled that," the trainee said as his stupid grin returned,
"so, dinner later?"
"Sorry, I have other plans." And even if his plans with Paige fell through,
he still didn't want to go anywhere with the big dumb jock.
"Oh, okay, maybe some other time then, Boss." With that, Tim turned away,
going back over to speak with Cabe.
"I'm not your boss because you're not part of the team," Walter mumbled under
his breath before continuing on his way to Paige's desk.
A week later, Paige was going through her apartment as she made a list of
items she needed to buy on her next shopping trip. Walter had not stayed
over the night before, a first since they had returned from Djibouti. A slot
at the UCLA lab had opened up for the previous evening and she had persuaded
him to go. He'd been reluctant but she'd been insistent, explaining she didn't
want him to give up the things he enjoyed for her sake. And to be honest,
it had been kind of relief when he had finally agreed. His constant hovering
because of her injury had been driving her nuts.
Walking into the bathroom, she opened the doors to the storage area under
the sink. Rolls of toilet paper, bottles of shampoo and conditioner, nearly
full packages of pads and tampons. . . Frowning, she tried to recall the
last time she had used either of the last two items.
Oh, God. Hurrying out of the room, she rushed out to the calendar
in her kitchen and took it down off the wall. Flipping from the current month
of March, past February, and back to January, she panicked as she all saw
were the appointments and special events she had written down. A small ‘x'
was noted on January 12th.
Paige plopped down in the nearest chair. Oh, God. Her last period
had been two weeks before she and Walter had been held as hostages, two weeks
before they had. . .
But. . .But. . .she was on birth control pills, remembering the embarrassing
scene when her purse had been searched and the packet had spilled out. Closing
her eyes, she groaned, also recalling she and Walter hadn't received their
belongings back until nearly a week after they'd been rescued.
Not only was it not impossible, it was entirely possible. She pressed her
hand to her stomach. Oh, God.
"Ralph, we need to go." She went in search of her son, whom she found in
his bedroom, tying his shoes.
"It's not time," he replied, not looking up from his task.
"I know," she said, hating to upset his routine. "I need to stop and pick
up something on the way to the garage." When he opened his mouth to protest,
she added, "You can spend the extra time with Walter."
"Okay," the boy genius readily agreed. "I want to show him the program I'm
working on for my coding class."
"Great." Snatching up her coat, purse, and Ralph's backpack, she herded him
out the door.
Fifteen minutes later, Paige dashed into the nearest pharmacy. Grabbing the
first test she recognized, she bounced from foot to foot as the clerk rang
her up.
The garish pink package firmly stashed in her purse, she and Ralph walked
into the garage. And into chaos. Toby, Sylvester, and Tim were crowded around
the Proton Arnold game; the shrink and human calculator noisily cheering
on the intern. Happy was at her workstation, welding on a piece of metal,
ignoring the commotion.
"Hey, Walter." Ralph ignored the other men and ran over to the genius's desk.
"Want to check out my coding project?"
"Hey, Ralph." Walter's face broke out into a smile as her son opened his
laptop. "Sure, buddy, let's have a look."
Her heart did a little flip as she watched the two of them interact over
Ralph's assignment. Walter was more of a father to her son than Drew had
ever been. She knew he'd do anything to protect him. . .and her. She had
to bite her lip as her eyes grew damp.
A loud whoop filled the garage. Looking up, she saw Toby and Sly dancing
around excitedly. Wiping away a tear, she asked Walter, "What's going on?"
"A statistical improbability," came the terse reply. Paige had to stifle
a hysterical laugh, wondering what he would make of the statistical improbability
they were facing.
"Oh, don't mind him," said Toby as the intern crushed another level. "Tim
is going to beat his high score. He's just feeling intimidated."
"I am not." Walter glanced up from Ralph's computer for a moment to glare
at the shrink.
"He still has all his lives left." Sylvester was hopping around like a big
kid.
"You can't spell ‘intimidation' without ‘Tim'," Toby declared. "The neuro-transmission
speed between his brain and fingertips is amazing."
Paige rolled her eyes as she saw the frown of displeasure on Walter's face.
Boys.
Deciding the commotion over the game was the perfect distraction, Paige slipped
away into the bathroom. Digging the test out of her purse, she ripped it
open, then read the instructions. It had been nearly twelve years since she'd
had last used one and they seemed more sophisticated than she remembered.
Once she had peed on the stick (that part hadn't changed), she waited anxiously,
checking her watch as the seconds ticked by. Finally, the required three
minutes passed, and with a hand she noticed was shaking, Paige picked up
the test.
It was positive.