A/N: My first foray into the fandom after having marrothoed the entire series in a little over a week. It was my first time watching the show and it was FANTASTIC as I'm sure all of you agree. This may stay as a oneshot or it may become my dumping ground for all Fringe themed drabbles that pop into my head.
I was shot with inspiration for this (after not writing anything fiction all semester) while taking care of my three month old nephew for a week. Hope you enjoy!
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He came home to a quiet house. The entryway light was still on and there was a soft glow in the kitchen from the stove light, but otherwise it seemed like he'd returned to a sleeping house. He dropped his bag and hung his coat in the closet before making his way upstairs, careful to avoid the loudest of the creaking steps. The second floor was much the same as the first, with the only illumination being a couple of nightlights and a lone lamp in the master bedroom. He would have thought Liv was able to get the baby down already if he hadn't picked up on a low shushing noise the closer he came to their bedroom door. He crept up to it and gently swung it wider to see his blond mommy-goddess doing an awkward bouncing/swaying motion while holding their nearly four month old daughter who was chewing on her small fist. While Etta still seemed pretty alert for nearly nine at night, Olivia's eyes hed closed as she let her shushing taper off. Peter smiled half in affection, half in pity.
"You look like you're putting yourself to sleep there instead of the baby." Peter quipped.
Green eyes snapped open before falling half-mast with exhaustion once more. "Peter." She smiled at him and stopped her bouncing to walk towards him only to halt and resume the motion half way there as Etta began to fuss again. Peter closed the remaining distance.
"How long have you been at it? She's usually down by now." He raised a hand to rest on his daughter's back.
Olivia's eyes flicked to the glowing numbers on the alarm clock near their bed. "Nearly half an hour." She said, dismayed.
"Did she sleep for you at all today?" He worried over how tired she looked.
"For about an hour after you left and then only twenty minutes around four. She was fussy nearly the entire day and she still doesn't want to go down."
Peter immediately reached to take the baby from her. He'd left at eleven that morning. "No wonder you're exhausted. Let me take over." They made the transfer as smoothly as pros and Peter took up the rhythm of bouncing and swaying. "Let's let your mommy get some rest, huh, babygirl? Did you make her hold you all day? That's not very nice." He cooed at the small blue eyes staring up at him.
Olivia stretched out on their queen size bed watching through hazy eyes the beautiful sight of the man she loved rocking their daughter to sleep. "If there's one thing this is teaching me, it's how not to break under sleep deprivation torture." She joked sleepily, taking the chance to close her eyes.
Peter chuckled softly. "You sure you're not breaking Liv? I have a feeling you'd do just about anything to get her to sleep for three hours straight."
"Touché." Came the mumbled response as the blonde nuzzled her face into the oh so soft pillow. In what felt like only a minute in the haze of near sleep, Olivia felt the bed dip beside her and looked over to see Peter, now shirtless and sporting a pair of gray sweatpants, babyless and climbing under the sheets to join her. "How'd you do that?" She asked, astonished.
"What?" He paused and looked at her innocently.
"Get her to go down that fast?"
He shrugged and scooted closer to her. "Dunno. Guess she just wanted her daddy."
Olivia stared at him in disbelief for another moment before groaning dramatically and turning her back on him. "I hate you." She said simply.
Peter grinned at her childishness and wrapped himself around her, chest pressed firmly to her back. He let his hand slip beneath her shirt to splay across her stomach, nearly as toned as it was before the baby, and planted a kiss high on her neck. "You love me." He whispered playfully into her ear.
Olivia made a noncommittal sound, covered Peter's hand on her stomach with one of her own and reached back with the other to tread her fingers through his hair as he kissed her neck again. "I love you," she confirmed with a smile, "but I hate you." She made sure he knew as she tucked both her hands beneath her chin and pressed herself more firmly against his chest.
Peter couldn't help the grin on his face if he tried. He clicked off the bedside lamp and pulled the sheet a bit farther over both of them. "Yes Dear."