Title: Secret Garden

Summary: Paige has a new hobby. Waige fluff with a dash of smut.

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

"I do not understand why you insist on doing this. It's messy, inefficient and expensive."

Walter stood on the patio overlooking the back garden of the home he now shared with Paige, Ralph and the latest unexpected addition, Margaret. As soon as they learned of Paige's pregnancy, she had begged to buy a house with a yard and garden. Walter wasn't opposed to living in a house, although he appreciated the conveniences of condominium living. High on that list was the fact that all landscaping was handled by the condo association. Walter had his fill of soil and dirt growing up. He had no desire to become a suburban husband with…. what was it Toby had called it? A "honey-dew" list.

"But it's good for you. Plus I enjoy getting my hands a little dirty, even if you don't. I find it relaxing. Riding herd on you geniuses makes me long for something a little more basic in my life." Paige wiped a gloved hand across her sweaty brow, leaving a small streak of light brown mud to join the one that graced her left cheek.

Walter had to admit she looked… enticing… wearing a tank top and shorts with her hair pulled back in a pony-tail. Wisps of hair escaped to cling damply to her neck and around her face. They'd resumed intimate relations a few weeks before, but things weren't quite back to what Walter remembered as "normal". He knew logically that it was due to the baby, but it assuaged his guilt to blame it on the house. He loved his daughter in ways that taught him things about love he never knew. But there were times when he resented the loud, interfering, annoying, little bugger.

Ralph was old enough now to spend his nights on campus. Being the smart young man he was, and knowing their home had been invaded by a creature capable of screaming at decibel levels that rivaled the sound of jet engines when they passed mere feet overhead, their son spent nearly ALL his time at CalTech. Ralph had the perfect excuse – he was too busy working on his second doctorate to spend time at home or to help look after the baby.

Walter sighed and made his way down the stairs to the lawn. He glanced down at the tiny bundle in the baby carrier. She was sleeping, but no doubt if he suggested a joint shower to Paige, Margaret would suddenly need changing or be hungry or simply want to be cuddled. It never failed. He wondered what Sly would say if Walter asked him to calculate those odds.

He came up to the spot where Paige was busily pulling weeds and using the small hand cultivator to aerate the soil between her plants. With the water restrictions that seemed a permanent feature of Los Angeles life, her garden was necessarily tiny. The yield would be small, but she promised the flavor of the tomatoes and beans and other vegetables would be worth the effort.

"Why don't you set Meggie down and come help me. You might find it relaxing, too," Paige suggested.

Her smile was certainly inviting. Walter realized it would be enjoyable just to be close to her – to share this with her. He set the carrier down, making sure it was firmly seated on a level bit of the lawn. Checking the sleeping infant, he tucked the blanket around her. It was nearly dusk and, although the day had been warm, with the fading light the temperature was dropping. The likelihood was that he would spend at most ten minutes weeding before the tiny girl demanded attention and he would have to take her back inside. He could manage some gardening for ten minutes.

Fortunately, he had changed into shorts himself when he got home. He kneeled down next to Paige and asked her how he could help. She handed him the cultivator. "You can work along behind me with this. After I pull the weeds, you rake the dirt around the plants, especially where I've disturbed it. Be careful not to injure the plants, though. We won't get anything from them if we tear them up."

"Okay," he said, taking an experimental swipe at a divot left where Paige had pulled up some sort of broad-leafed plant. This wasn't too bad, he mused. He followed as Paige shifted down the row of small bean plants, plucking out unwanted invaders. Each time she moved, or a breeze wafted by, he caught a scent from her that seemed to stimulate his primal senses. It was a combination of sweat and sun-warmed skin with an unmistakable undertone of milk and a slightly musky scent that he recognized as… wait a minute… he knew that smell! Paige was… hot! And not from the late spring heat wave!

Walter glanced at the baby. Still sleeping soundly. He worked the little rake faster, assuming his very responsible wife would never consent to going back in the house until their chore was finished. Maybe if he raked faster, she would weed faster. He moved over, bumping into her slightly.

"Hey!" she shouted, and bumped him back, grinning as she tossed a small weed, dirt clinging to its roots, at his chest. "You're not supposed to move over until after I move!"

Walter stared down at the bits of dirt scattered across his shirt. He couldn't bring himself to respond in kind, but this sort of thing demanded a counter attack. He sidled over even closer and bumped again, nearly causing Paige to topple. She flung an arm out to keep herself upright, then forcefully bumped back. Walter found himself sprawled on his back, thankfully mostly in the space between the rows, although as he looked up, he realized one heel was planted firmly on what had been one of Paige's precious heirloom tomato plants. He looked at her face. The damage was clearly her fault, but she might not see it that way, considering how she fussed and fretted over her garden. Of course, she might claim that he started the whole thing; an argument which had significant merit. He was a dead man.

Paige smiled. Then she chuckled. Then she laughed and, turning on her knees, she leaned over, placed her hands on either side of his chest and lowered herself down to kiss him. This was not the response Walter was expecting at all. Still, he would not waste an opportunity. He reached a hand up and grasped the back of her neck, pulling her down so that he could better maneuver his lips to match hers. Her mouth was warm, almost hot. He relaxed and allowed his tongue to explore. This was a delightful interlude, and worth enjoying. But Paige would never allow it to go far. Any minute now she would break apart and insist they get back to work. Sometimes she was no fun at all!

As he predicted, Paige soon broke off the kiss, and rose up on her knees above him. But instead of the teasing command to get back to work, she stared down at him, her eyes mesmerizing. There was a smoldering look in the dark brown orbs that Walter recognized as intense desire. He was just about to whisper that they should go inside when Paige reached down and unbuttoned his shorts, carefully unzipping his fly. Before he could protest, she reached inside and was stroking him, her normally silky fingers slightly roughened from the work she'd been doing. He hoped he wasn't allergic to any of the plant sap she'd been intimate with recently. At the moment, though, any future misery he might endure would simply have to take care of itself.

"Paige?" he whispered, tearing his eyes from hers to glance again at the baby. "Here? Now?"

"Here," she affirmed, "now. Margaret is sound asleep. If we move her she might wake up. We have a nice, high fence and it's been entirely too long, Walter O'Brien, since I've had a nice quickie with my husband. Please don't tell me you're not in the mood, because I don't think I can believe that."

She grasped the hem of her tank and wriggled it up over her full breasts, revealing that she'd been doing her weeding braless. Walter knew sometimes the nursing bras chaffed and Paige would go without when she was home and not expecting to go anywhere. But if this was her habit when gardening, he would have to seriously reconsider his objections to the activity.

For now, though, he reached up and took advantage of the implied invitation. Paige's breasts were a source of endless fascination. From a scientific standpoint, he knew they were simply masses of specialized adipose tissue meant to produce and store nourishment for offspring. That was actually part of the fascination. But they were also firm and yielding at the same time. If she hadn't fed Margaret recently, they would be too tender for him to touch. But she seemed fine with it now. He closed his eyes and enjoyed gently kneading and occasionally circling and flicking her nipples with his thumbs. He was aware that she continued to stroke him and would soon have him primed and ready.

He felt her rise up again when his hands lost contact with her breasts. Opening his eyes, he realized she had maneuvered her shorts down and they were now stretched across her thighs. She tried to position herself above him, but the shorts made that impossible. Finally she stood up and whipped the garment off, along with her very sensible lime green cotton panties. Walter could not believe he was lying in a vegetable garden, with his fly open, exposing a raging erection, his very naked wife standing over him.

She kneeled back down and straddled him. With one hand she resumed working his shaft while the other grabbed his hand and placed it back where it was before, making it clear what his assigned task was.

"Don't you… don't you want me to um… to… to go down on you?" he asked. He almost always pleasured her with his mouth before they took things too far. It was the best way he knew to make sure the activity was as enjoyable for her as it was for him. But apparently Paige was having none of that today.

"I've been having these thoughts about you all day, Walter. I'm so wired right now I think I might come just by sitting on that old, dead log over there. I'd much rather sit on your very alive, pulsing, warm log."

Walter's eyes widened. He wasn't used to Paige talking… it wasn't exactly crude, but it was… earthy.

Before he could say anything else, Paige was hovering above him, guiding him to her entrance and slowly lowering herself onto him. He felt the moist heat of her envelope him and he thought for sure his eyes rolled backwards into his head. For a moment, he didn't breathe. Then she began to move up and down, riding him with all the speed she could manage. Walter brought his knees up slightly to brace his feet on the ground and help support her. Clasping her waist between his hands, he matched her rhythm and helped her to rise up and down and up and down. With his help, she was able to increase the speed of her movements. She also tilted her pelvis back and forth, so that her clit would brush along the length of him.

"Oh gah!" she cried.

"Gah bah!" came a response from a spot on the ground just a few feet away. Walter prayed his daughter was happy.

Paige's eyes flew open and she glanced in the direction of the noise, pausing on a downward stroke. Satisfied, she glanced down at Walter and smiled. "She's fine. Just kicking at her blanket a little."

The smile turned into a wicked grin and Paige resumed her movements, lazily at first, but gaining speed as he once again added his assistance. This time her eyes remained open and she stared into his. Walter stared back and understood. She was a mother and would protect and care for that little life with everything that was in her. But she still loved him, Walter O'Brien, and she would make sure he knew that, too.

Before long Walter was no longer capable of much coherent thought. He felt a pressure building and knew he was on the edge. His one thought was that Paige was still unsatisfied. "Paige!" he gasped. "I'm… I'm close! I need to… you need…."

He thought frantically. He didn't want to flip them over and have Paige butt naked in the dirt. He needed to do something to bring her closer. He began to raise and lower his hips, working to match his rhythm to hers. Then he brought one hand down from her waist, carefully wiped his fingers and thumb on his shirt and reached between them, seeking the small nub hidden in her folds. It was difficult, trying to locate it while she was moving. He had to be careful that he didn't suddenly jab her. That could bring things to an abrupt, crashing halt. Finally, he braced his fingers just above her thigh so his hand moved up and down with her. Reaching over with his thumb, he was able to find her clit, and began to rub it between strokes. It was awkward, and he was frequently dislodged, but it seemed to be having the desired effect.

"I… Walter!" she gasped, "I'm… almost… almost… almost… OH!"

Walter stilled a moment, looking up at the woman who was his whole world. He rarely got to see her face so well while she experienced her release. He was surprised to note that her eyes weren't closed, but she was staring up at the sky. Her skin was flushed and shiny from a sheen of sweat. Within a moment, she closed her eyes and slowly resumed her movements. He could feel the tremors within her, and was soon caught up on the edge of his own completion. It came over him suddenly, almost unexpectedly, and he felt he was exploding, not just inside her, but within himself as well. As if every cell was charged and vibrating with energy.

A few moments later, Walter realized that Paige was lying comfortably on his chest. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her firmly on top of him, up away from the ground. He felt a slight shiver course through her and realized she must be freezing. It was nearly dark now and a breeze was stirring the bushes that lined the perimeter of the back yard.

"Hey," he said, stroking her arm, "we should get inside. You're going to catch a chill."

She rose up, bracing her hands against his chest. "I think you're right. I was all hot before but now… I am getting a little cold."

She pushed up further and smoothly rose to her feet, reaching down to help Walter. He was surprised to realize that his knees were a little shaky. He wasn't used to doing anything but lying in bed for a few minutes…. or several hours… after they made love. Nonetheless he began to gather up her discarded clothing. He moved to hand it to her, but she shook her hand.

"Anything that's out here has already seen everything there is to see and I'm just going to take a shower as soon as we get inside, so there's no point putting those on again. You take them inside and I'll get the baby."

Walter watched as she stepped to where their daughter was happily gurgling in her carrier. He decided he might have to bring her something special tomorrow. She'd been such a good baby and he was so grateful. He waited for Paige to join him and they walked toward the house together. Walter realized belatedly that his fly was still open, but he decided that if Paige could walk into the house naked, he could deal with a bit of exposure too. Like her, he planned on a shower as soon as possible. Maybe Meggie would even allow them time to shower together. He supposed he shouldn't get his hopes up, though. That might be pushing it.

"So what do you think of my little garden now, Walter?"

"I think I'm learning to love gardening!"

September 6, 2016