Title: Behavioral Experimentation

Summary: Walter finally took Paige on a date. Neither of them want it to end – and Ralph is having a sleepover at a friend's home. Sequel to Observational Study. You should probably read that first.

Author's Note: This is a sequel to Observational Study. What do you think happens after they walk through Paige's door? This is rated M for good reason. It probably isn't smut in the traditional sense, but it is smut, nonetheless.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own /scorpion. This story is for entertainment purposes only. I make no profit and no infringement of copyrights is intended.

Chapter 1

Human behavior flows from three main sources: desire, emotion, and knowledge. ~Plato

Walter relaxed a bit, but kept his arms loosely on Paige's hips. "So… you'll be here…by yourself… all night?" he asked.

Paige smiled. It might take him awhile, but it seemed that Walter was learning. "I will be… unless you'd like to come in for a while… or… for the night," she suggested, hoping she wasn't moving things too fast.

Walter smiled. Then he grinned.

Paige unlocked the door and walked inside, Walter O'Brien following close behind.

He'd been here countless times before. Usually at the end of the day to discuss business matters after Paige put Ralph to bed. He'd always been perfectly comfortable before. Why did he feel so nervous now?

Paige dropped her keys and bag on the small table in the entrance way and announced, "I'm going to go back and get out of these shoes – they're pinching like you would not believe. Can I get you something to drink first?"

"No, no," Walter responded. "I am familiar with where you store your glasses and the selection of beverages you generally stock. I'll help myself as usual. Go ahead and change your shoes."

Paige smiled and nodded, then turned to walk down the hall, hopping on one foot to remove one of the offending shoes on her way. Again, there was nothing unusual about these events. Paige often wore shoes that apparently didn't fit well and would hasten to remove them as soon as they got inside the door. But somehow, tonight was different. For one thing, Walter found himself mesmerized watching her curious dance down the hallway. The first time he witnessed it, he suggested that it would be more efficient – and less likely to cause a fall – if she simply sat in the living room and removed the shoes first. Paige just waved one shoe up in the air, dismissing his comment and continued hopping down the hall.

Since that first time, Walter paid little attention to her strange antics. This time, he watched, smiling, enjoying the simple familiarity of it; but also enjoying how the hopping motion caused her skirt to hitch up a bit in the back, accentuating the curvature of her buttocks. As Paige turned to enter her bedroom, Walter shook his head and sighed. He was turning into a caveman.

Perhaps he should have gotten himself something to drink. In this moment, Walter wished he did drink – as in alcohol. Popular lore had it that intoxicants could sometimes serve to lower anxiety and relieve nerves and he was sorely in need of both as he sat feeling awkward and unsure of what his next move should be.

Earlier that evening he and Paige seemed unable to control their libidos. Sometimes she would start; other times he would. They kissed like high school kids under the bleachers – a phrase Walter had heard but didn't fully understand since he never attended high school. He wanted very much to do more of that, and he knew Paige was expecting it as well. Even Walter understood the suggestion in her attitude and tone of voice when she asked him in. Maybe that was the problem. Paige was expecting certain activities and Walter wasn't entirely sure he could perform to her satisfaction – at least not in that area.

He understood the basic procedures. He'd even participated in most of the generally accepted activities – at least a few times. Walter O'Brien wasn't a virgin, but right now he felt like one.

He was seated on her sofa. A new one that coordinated nicely with the other new furnishings she had purchased to decorate the living area in her new condo. All things that she was able to afford thanks to the success of Scorpion. A success that was largely due to her management of both the team and the business. Walter understood how much Scorpion's success changed his life; how it gave him purpose and the ability to pursue the greater good. He hadn't stopped to think – at least not in detail – how much Scorpion had transformed Paige's life. Usually when he thought of the effect on her, it was really the impact on Ralph that he recognized. Ralph's emotional education, his increased ability to interact successfully with normals, his access to higher education more suited to his intellect and his ability to interact with other geniuses. In most cases, Walter knew, improvements that Paige made to her own life – like the condo and the furnishings – she did more for Ralph's benefit than hers. But he was suddenly pleased to realize that she allowed herself some small indulgences as well. He knew she took classes in a variety of topics and was working to complete the degree she'd abandoned when Ralph was born. He also realized that the quality and extent of her wardrobe changed since her waitress days.

Unsure of what topics were appropriate for a date, Walter fell back into the tried and true topic of work. He and Paige discussed recent cases, problems with billing some of their non-government clients and the fact that some of the appliances in the garage's small kitchen could use replacing. They would have to divert some funds from the usual avenue of ever better and more powerful tech to provide a means to brew more palatable coffee and ensure that no one contracted ptomaine from food kept in the dying refrigerator. There was only so much even Happy could do.

During these mundane discussions, the genius was thinking that he needed to either get the post-date activities in gear or cut and run. He understood that Paige was giving him the latitude to set the tone and pace of the evening. What she didn't understand is that he had no clue how to do that. So he sat next to her, maintaining a small distance between them and staring fixedly forward. Each time he started to look at her, he jerked his head back, fearing that eye contact would give away all of his uncertainty.

Walter always maintained that romantic love was just the result of a variety of chemicals fooling the brain. If that was the case, then Walter's brain was well and truly fooled and he no longer cared how. He was in love and he wanted nothing more than to tell her; to show her.

"P…Paige," he stammered, frustrated that his ability to express himself so often failed him on these occasions. He was contemplating his hands, which were clasped tightly above his knees. Gathering his determination, he raised his head and stared straight at the artwork on the opposite wall. "I love you," he blurted.

May 25, 2016