Chapter Three
Twenty minutes later, after having dealt with Brazilian fire ants and strategically
digging out a pile of rubble so the ceiling wouldn't collapse onto them,
the ground began to rumble again. "Aftershock," said Walter unnecessarily.
He pushed Paige to the ground, knocking down Toby in the process, then used
his body to shield hers. He grunted as small chunks of concrete landed painfully
onto his back. Thankfully the shaking didn't last nearly as long the first
quake.
"Dammit, Walter," Toby said as he tried to stand up. "You made me twist my
knee."
Shaking off the debris covering them, Walter helped Paige to her feet. "Are
you okay?" he asked. She had thrown up earlier, overcome by the stench of
noxious fumes filling the tunnel and she still looked pale. The smell was
making his own stomach a bit queasy and he knew he'd be tasting it in the
back of his throat for days.
"You're hurt. Where are you hurt?" Shit, he had hoped she hadn't noticed
his sharp intake of breath as he put his weight on his leg.
"My ankle. It's fine," he lied. He tried to take a step but stumbled as pain
throbbed in his injured joint.
Toby hobbled over to him. "It's not fine, jackass," he said as he yanked
up Walter's trouser leg and removing his shoe before pressing two fingers
over various areas of his foot and ankle. "Sprained, not broken," he finally
diagnosed.
"How do you know without x-raying it?" Paige asked, sounding a little panicked.
"Ottawa ankle rules," said the shrink, demonstrating as he spoke. "No bone
tenderness along the distal six centimeters of the posterior edge of the
tibia or tip of the medial malleolus, and no bone tenderness along the distal
six centimeters of the posterior edge of the fibula or tip of the lateral
malleolus." He shoved Walter's shoe back onto his foot. "Try walking on it."
Walter took a few tentative steps, wincing every other step. "I need something
to wrap it," said Toby. He pointed to Paige's waist. "Give me the belt off
your coat."
She pulled the belt from its loops and handed it to Toby, who then expertly
wrapped Walter's swelling ankle. "What about your knee?" she asked.
"It'll be fine," came the reply. "No thanks to Walter recklessly endangering
me to protect you. I know what a torn ligament feels like and this isn't
it."
"I didn't mean to. . ." Walter started to apologize.
"You never ‘mean' to," Toby sneered. "You didn't mean to punch that guy this
morning, you didn't mean to shove me aside just now." He shook his head.
"We don't have time for this, we need to get moving."
He limped off ahead. Paige took Walter's arm and draped it over her shoulders,
intending to let him use her as a crutch.
"Paige, I can walk on my own," he insisted, trying to distance himself. But
she held on.
"You're hurt and you need help."
Looking into her eyes, he saw nothing he could say would dissuade her. "Okay."
Leaning on her just enough to take a little pressure off his ankle, he stepped
forward with his good leg.
"Tell me again why we live in Los Angeles," said Toby as they trooped single
file into the garage. "Earthquakes, wildfires, mud slides, flash floods.
. ."
"Gang wars, traffic jams, air pollution. . ." added Sylvester as he plopped
down at his desk.
"Temperate weather, beautiful beaches, world class museums, top-ranked universities.
. ." Paige said with a weary smile. "Although I'm not feeling all that glad
about living here myself after spending most of the day running around in
the sewer." She glanced down at her clothes and wrinkled her nose. "I need
a shower. . .Ralph, we should. . ."
"You can use the one upstairs," Walter offered. He didn't want her to leave.
Not yet. Not ever.
"Oh, okay." Paige walked over to her desk and took a small bag out of the
bottom drawer. "I'll go now, if you're sure?"
Walter nodded, unable to speak as thoughts of her in his shower filled his
head. He watched as she ascended the stairs and disappeared into his loft.
It didn't help he now knew what she looked like naked. Not that what he had
imagined before was so different from reality, but still. . . He exhaled
sharply, trying to clear his mind.
"I've scheduled another appointment for you two with Dr Rizzuto."
"We already saw him," Walter said as he spun around to face Toby. "I don't
think. . ."
"That you and Paige stonewalled him? That you both lied to him. . ."
"I didn't lie."
"Lied by omission then," Toby pointed out. "Like you've been doing ever since.
. ."
"We're fine. You're the one with the problem," countered Walter. "Why are
you so obsessed with what happened?"
"Because you're not fine, neither of you," said Toby. "And you're endangering
the whole team."
"If you're talking about this morning, you didn't hear what he said. . ."
"Doesn't matter. You have to stop mollycoddling her. I nearly puked today
when we were running around in the sewer, and I don't just mean from the
smell. You kept telling her how brave and strong she was, but as soon as
there was even the tiniest hint of danger, you were wrapping her up in cotton
wool."
"If you're done. . ."
"No, I'm not done." The shrink shook his head. "You tossed me aside like
a used tissue in order to protect Paige."
"I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me, Toby?" Rage threatened
to engulf him. He needed Paige before he did something he'd regret.
"Give it a rest, Doc," Happy said as she came up beside him. "Ugh, you need
a shower, too. You stink."
"This isn't over, O'Brien," Toby announced, throwing his arm around Happy's
shoulders. "Oh, so you don't care for eau de sue-air, ma cherie?" he asked
as she pushed him away. The two of them bantered back and forth as they headed
out the door.
"Walter, a word," Cabe said as he beckoned to him.
"Uh, okay." Walter sighed, knowing he was in for another lecture as he followed
the other man to the opposite side of the garage.
"I wasn't joking around this morning," Cabe began, "Homeland is threatening
to cut off our funding. No more paychecks. No more benefits. No more government
cases. And that probably means no more Scorpion."
"Scorpion survived before without Homeland," Walter said defensively.
"By the skin of your teeth." The older man shook his head. "Son, I can't
begin to know what you and Paige went through. But whatever it was, you can't
go around assaulting military personnel. You're lucky you're not being brought
up on charges for using that ensign as a punching bag this morning. Damn
lucky. You could be facing up to twenty years in prison."
Hanging his head, Walter knew both Toby and Cabe were right. He needed to
control his anger. But it was difficult when the person he was the angriest
with was himself.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't intend to hit anyone. It just. . .happened."
"I'll do what I can to salvage this situation. You could try to cooperate
with the therapist the doc set you up with," Gallo suggested. "Paige, too.
It's her job to keep you in line and she's not doing that anymore."
"Okay."
Paige came down the stairs then. Her hair was damp and she had changed into
a pair of black leggings and white t-shirt. "Shower's free," she said. "I
think I left you some hot water."
"Thanks." Walter watched as she walked over to Ralph and ruffled his hair.
With a sigh, he turned away to go clean up.
Fifteen minutes later, he made his way back downstairs, wearing a polo and
jeans. Cabe, Sly, and Ralph were sitting at the kitchen table eating from
cups of yogurt, although the agent was looking at his with suspicion. "Where's
Paige?" Walter asked.
"She went up to the roof," said Cabe before he spooned a small portion of
the yogurt into his mouth.
Walter didn't stay to see his reaction as he headed back upstairs. Opening
the door to the roof, he immediately spotted Paige, sitting in a chair, her
knees tucked up to her chest, gazing up at the night sky.
"There were a couple times today I thought I'd never see the stars again,"
she said as he approached. She lowered her eyes and smiled at him.
"I have to confess I was concerned a few times myself." He swallowed nervously.
She looked so beautiful; well, she always did; but tonight, she took his
breath away. "Los Angeles is still one of the most polluted cities in the
country, although particulate levels aren't nearly as bad as they were forty
years ago. California has some of the most stringent emission. . ." His recitation
of facts trailed off as Paige chuckled. "What?"
"Only you would bring up particulates and emission controls instead of appreciating
what we can see." She glanced down at his feet. "How's your ankle?"
"It's fine."
"Which means it hurts like hell but you don't want to admit it."
Damn, she knew him too well. "Okay, yeah, it hurts. I've had worse though."
Paige laughed. "Now you sound like Toby." Her smile faded as she lifted her
head to meet his eyes. "I think we all should take CPR and first aid classes,"
she said. "Not Toby, of course. But he's not always going to be available,
like when we were. . ." Her breath caught in her throat and it was a moment
or two before she could continue. "I just think it's a good idea, that's
all."
"No, it's something we should all know," he agreed. "I've taken a CPR class
before but it's been at least five years ago. You're right, we rely too much
on Toby for medical advice. We all should at least have some rudimentary
knowledge. Like today with my ankle."
"I'll look into signing us up for classes tomorrow." Paige rested her chin
on her knees. "Ralph can take them with us."
"I'm sure he'd like that." Walter dragged a chair over and sat down opposite
her. Paige dropped her feet to the ground and he leaned forward, taking her
hands in his. She could see droplets of water from his shower still clinging
to his curls and had to resist the urge to run her fingers through them.
"I, uh, I was wondering. . ." he began, uneasily glancing around before finally
looking her in the eyes. "Uh, if you would like to have, um, d-dinner with
me, er, F-Friday night?"