BULLY FOR YOU

AN: I re-watched 'Little Boy Lost' the other day. It made me mad. Everyone treated Walter like sh*t in that episode. He got no credit at all. In fact, he pretty much got blamed and treated like garbage a lot in Season 3 and everyone else seemed to get a pass on their own bad behavior. Plus the PDA with Tim and Paige in that one made me wanna gag. Anyway, this idea popped in my head. Beware, there's some angst brewing before I make things better. Hope you can hang with me.

This takes place about four months after the disaster that was the series finale.

oxoxoxoxoxo

He took the job initially because it was about as far away from Paige and Team Centipede and Los Angeles and all of his other problems as it was possible to be. On the upside, the tax situation was better, the housing was more affordable and he'd always liked living in a temperate climate. Growing up in Ireland, he'd had his fill of gloomy skies, chill and rain.

However, he didn't count on August in Florida feeling like the swampy armpit of one of the many merciless bullies from primary school who'd given him 'sweaties' by the bike racks. He was never comfortably cool here. Or dry. The humidity in the air made him feel like he needed gills to breathe and he went through two sticks of deodorant in a week and at least the same number of clean shirts on any given day.

When Mrs. Thorpe, his new landlady - a grey-haired retiree who seemed to have nothing in her wardrobe but flowery mu-mus in blindingly bright hues - handed over his keys, she clucked at his complaints and assured him he would acclimate. She proudly informed him she was a snow bird from Vermont and she'd gotten used to it after a while. As if that was some kind of heroic accomplishment.

Walter wondered if it was calculable exactly how many eons it might take. But he didn't pose the mostly rhetorical question because he didn't want to prolong the conversation.

Even though it had been a long while since he'd worked for someone other than himself, he was nevertheless surprised to feel unsettled on his first day at his new job. He had no reason to be nervous. His skill set and experience most likely exceeded the majority of his coworkers and his intelligence certainly did.

Back when they used to be friends, Toby might have told Walter he simply didn't want to be rejected again. But the ultra genius had absolutely no intention of getting personally involved with the rest of the staff at this company. He was better off on his own. The implosion of the Scorpion 'team' taught him that much. That entire experiment turned out to be an abysmal failure on many levels. Walter prided himself on learning from his mistakes. The lessons he'd learned at Scorpion were especially painful and he had zero intention of repeating them.

Over-compensating for the muggy weather, which already had his shirt sticking to him at a few minutes before nine in the morning, a sudden rush of de-humidified, frigid air-conditioned air whooshed out and surrounded him as he opened the door to his new employers' office. The hassled receptionist behind the rounded desk gave him a hurried smile and held up one finger as she also signed for a package and answered the phone simultaneously.

He waited while she completed her tasks trying for an appearance of calm. It was unfortunate he still frequently heard his ex's voice in his head reminding him to be patient. That same little voice made him recognize the woman appeared to be overwhelmed and it wasn't her fault he was in danger of reporting late for his first day of work. The fault landed squarely on the road construction and flag crews who caused him to brake too quickly and spill the iced latte - he couldn't tolerate hot coffee anymore - he'd been sipping down the front of his first clean shirt of the day.

Finally, she appeared to hit a lull in her manic activities and she caught his eye. "Sorry about that. Mondays!" She offered him by way of explanation then she gave him a genuine smile and the company tag line, "Welcome to International Business Solutions – Creative Solutions for today's business challenges. What can I do for you?"

"Hello. I'm Walter Sullivan. I'm the new hire."

"Oh, yes! Welcome aboard. Right." She shuffled through a teetering stack of envelopes and papers. "I have your paperwork and your temporary badge… Ah, here! Go on back to HR. It's the first door on the left. Good luck!"

He didn't pause to inform her about his lack of belief in the concept of luck nor did he even bother to ask her name. He only thanked her politely and stepped around her desk when she buzzed the door open for him.

He wasn't there to make friends.

oxoxoxoxoxo

She was slumped at the conference table, stacks of paperwork scattered in haphazard piles around her. All of it was urgent. None of it could wait. She was almost too exhausted to care. It would be well into the wee hours before she made a sizable dent. She could and probably should consider hiring an assistant. Centipede was certainly thriving.

However, Paige Dineen wasn't. She found no pleasure in the success of her start-up. Not when it meant the demise of the Scorpion family and, even more importantly, most of the progress she'd made in her relationship with her son. Because Ralph wasn't thriving either. On a good day, he was closed off and quiet. On bad days, he was belligerent and hostile. Yes, the success of her company had come at too great a cost. All she had to show for it was hours and hours of burning the midnight oil all alone.

A bittersweet memory filtered into her tired mind, making her heart ache and tears sting her eyes.

Another late night. A different conference table. A curly-haired companion who shared the workload as well as smiles and yawns and furtive glances. They'd just finished blitzing through a small mountain of invoices and he'd asked if she wanted a refill of coffee. Paige had already consumed so much it was making her jittery. Or maybe she could be honest with herself now and admit it was the appreciative look in his dark eyes whenever they met hers giving her those butterflies.

She'd stood to stretch out the kinks, pressing her hands to her spine and bending backwards. She'd seen him out of the corner of her eye, frozen, a coffee mug in each hand, and watching mesmerized as if he was trying to commit to memory every soft curve. It set her whole body tingling with awareness.

He'd shaken himself out of his stupor and approached. Clearing his throat, he tried to hand her one of the mugs. She'd taken both of them. He looked puzzled but didn't resist or object when she set them over on her desk.

He still wore the adorable confused expression when she'd hopped up on the table. He finally caught on to her invitation when she grasped his hands and pulled him between her splayed knees, placing those strong hands on her hips before sliding her own slowly up his arms and lacing them behind his head. Pulling his face toward her, she kissed him thoroughly, leaving them both gasping and him groaning her name against her throat.

Now, imagining the look on his face when he'd accepted that invitation and laid her back on that table still robbed her of breath. Total adoration. He was completely enthralled. Enraptured. Stunned. Like he couldn't believe his luck. No one else had ever looked at her that way.

And she was now afraid no one ever would again.

oxoxoxoxoxo

"Welcome to International Business Solutions. Where IBS is supposedly a good thing. Let's get this party started."

The odd joke was lost on him, if indeed it was supposed to be a joke. Wearing a bewildered frown, Walter shook the offered hand.

"What'd you say your name was?" His 'mentor' eyed him up and down and seemed to find him lacking somehow.

"Um, I didn't. I'm Walter." He tapped the name on his temporary badge for emphasis. Perhaps she was dense.

"Walter. Gotcha. I'm Keilah. Come with me. I'll show you where to put your stuff." She turned on her heel and paced purposefully down the hall. He couldn't help but note she had a somewhat mannish stride.

She indicated a door on her right. "This is the men's locker room. You'll need to bring a change of clothes and a combination lock tomorrow. You're required to do at least twenty minutes a day of cardio exercise in the company gym upstairs. It's a dumbass policy, but what're you gonna do?" She shrugged. "It's not a bad gym if you're into that kind of thing and it's considered a 'perk' to use it whenever you want. There's all kinds of classes including…" She rolled her eyes. "…yoga. You can sign up online. I'll show you when we get to your cube."

At his horrified look, Keilah grinned. "Believe me. I feel ya. But this is a 'progressive' company for the new millennium. Heil, IBS! But, seriously, remember big brother is always watching and listening." She pointed a thumb at the high density camera over her shoulder.

"Personally, I just suck it up and use a treadmill on my lunch break everyday. It's okay. I've read it actually increases…"

"Circulation to the brain and therefore productivity. I imagine that is the general idea."

"That's what they tell me anyway," she said wearing a skeptical smirk, "It probably doesn't hurt the bottom line on the company's health insurance policy either." She gestured toward the elevator. "The gym's on the third floor and so's the cafeteria. It's a bunch of health food, organic and vegan garbage and you have to be in a different tax bracket than us to afford it. I usually bring mine from home or go out if I have time." She snorted, "Which is never."

While he was glancing around, Keilah suddenly took off down a side hall. "Hey! Keep up," she called.

Walter trotted after her, mildly irritated.

"We live in the basement like step kids." She opened the stairwell door and jogged down a flight. Then, when he'd caught up, Keilah paused with her hands on the exit's crash bar. "Listen, I feel like I should give you fair warning. We aren't the most popular kids down here with the e-geeks. As trouble-shooters, we're required to find and point out everyone else's coding errors. People generally don't like that much."

Walter gave her a wry smile. "Don't worry. I'm used to being unliked."

oxoxoxoxoxo

"Gallo."

The harsh greeting surprised her. Paige hadn't known exactly what to expect when she'd called Cabe out of the blue, but that one word carried quite a load of attitude.

She tempered her own voice to sound friendly and soothing. "How've you been? It's been a while."

"It has. Makes me wonder what you want."

She took a calming breath then another, refusing to rise to the bait. In truth, she did have an agenda. Paige was hoping to drop hints to Cabe about how Ralph was struggling. The idea being he would pass the information on to Walter without her direct involvement. She wasn't ready to admit to anyone besides herself how much she needed her genius ex's guidance. "I was just checking in on you. We miss you around here, you know?"

"That so? Coulda fooled me," he grumbled.

"Listen, Cabe. I'm really sorry I haven't been in touch. It was a little awkward what with… everything." There was a long pause where she nervously wound her office phone's cord around her fingers waiting on him to say something. "Um, it's been really busy here too…," she finally added meekly.

"Yeah? I heard Centipede was taking off like a rocket," He spit the company's name out as if it had a foul taste, "Got a big influx of clients recently?"

"Well, yes, actually. How did you know?"

"I may not be a genius, but I figured when Scorpion shut its doors for good, the roaches had to scatter somewhere."

"Closed its doors? What do you mean? I hadn't heard… Don't you guys still handle the Homeland cases?" Paige was truly shocked by the news.

"Not since my heart attack," he stated bluntly.

She nearly had her own heart attack once she'd fully processed what he said. No wonder he sounded so bitter. "Oh, Cabe. I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Are you okay? Why didn't anyone let us know?"

'What was wrong with Walter? He could've at least told us. Another example of his immaturity…' She thought those things resentfully, but stopped herself from saying them out loud.

"They tell me I'll live. I've been relegated to desk duty until I can't stand it anymore and retire. Carson is the other winner in the deal. Besides Centipede, that is. He's thrilled to have me under constant surveillance. As for why you weren't informed? I made Walter promise not to. He was already beating himself up for adding to my stress. You know how he gets. Blaming himself. I didn't think he needed the added… drama of seeing his old ex-pals."

"Oh, I see." Biting her lip, Paige turned instantly contrite. There she went with the old knee jerk reaction of jumping to false conclusions. "What can I do? What do you need?"

"Unless you can offer me a different job or a younger ticker, nothing."

The silence stretched while Paige fought off a crushing sense of guilt. She should've been there for Cabe. All of them should have.

The older man who'd been a second father to her and a grandfather to her child sighed, all the fight leaving his tone when he said, "There is one thing you could do for me."

"Anything."

"You could find Walter."