*Knock, knock, knock*
Olivia looks up from the case file she was just reading. She pulls her glasses off and sets them gently on the table as she stands. Dressed only in her loose Nothwestern t-shirt and a baggy pair of black sweats hanging off her waist, she pads her way to the front door. She looks through the peephole to see Peter, in his usual peacoat and dark jeans. She pauses a second, hand frozen on the doorknob. After a few seconds, she sighs and opens the door. "Hello." She some hair behind her ear nervously.
"Hi. Can I come in?" He looks in her eyes, searching for something. She looks away.
"Sure." She returns to the table where she was reading and picks up her glass. He amber liquid slips past her lips and glides down her throat. The glass is empty in a heartbeat, and she pulls it away and stares at it longingly.
Peter clears his throat, hoping to get her attention.
"Oh. Would you like one?" She places the glass back on the table and moves towards the cabinet where the bottle resides.
He nods. "Please." He undies his coat and slides it off. Draping it over the back of a vacant chair, he moves in the opposite direction of Olivia, distracted.
She grips the bottle in one hand and an empty glass in the other as she returns to the table. She is silent as she pours them half full.
Peter moves back towards the table to retrieve his drink. Olivia watches, surprised, as he shoots back the contents of the glass in a single, swift motion. He grimaces as he swallows,, and places the glass back on the wooden tabletop.
All too aware if the of the week's past events, Olivia's one is anxious as she asks, "Somethin' on your mind?"
He drops heavily in to the vacant chair at the table. " You could say that, I guess," Peter sighs and rubs his temples roughly.
Olivia mirrors him as she also empties her glass and sits down in her chair. She pours them both another drink, though she doesn't touch her glass. Her reaches for his, but does not lift it to his lips. He taps his fingers on the outside, staring into the amber. He lifts his eyes to Olivia's, and hers drop to the open case file on the table.
"I'm sorry to come here so late." He takes a small sip of his drink as Olivia glances at the clock. 1:42am.
"It's fine. I was up, anyway. She closes the file and puts it aside.
"I can see that," he says with a smirk.
"Just looking over a few things before I turn it in to Broyles."
They sit, silent, staring into their glasses on the table.
"I couldn't stop staring at you, today."
Olivia takes a drink. "Really? I didn't notice."
Peter chuckles sarcastically. " Probably because you were avoiding looking at me. You'v been avoiding me all week."
Olivia stretches across the table for the bottle. "No, I haven't," she counters, unsure of her own words.
"Yes,you have. Ever since the night we went out. When I asked Walter about it, he said he didn't know. When I asked him about how you two whisper to each other and get angry over little things, he said the same thing. I just want the truth."
Olivia's cell phone rings.
She lifts it to her ear. "Dunham."
Walter's voice floods her ear. "Hello, Olivia? I'm afraid I've done something terribly wrong." His voice is shaky, as if he'd been crying. "I told Peter the truth. And now he's gone." Olivia looked at Peter. Walter's breathing was ragged. "What am I going to do? I can't lose him!"
"Walter, it's okay. Peter's here." At his father's name, Peter's eyes find Olivia's.
The older man breathes a shaky sigh of relief. "How is he? Is he angry?"
Olivia watches Peter a moment. "It's going to be fine, Walter."
"I know I've asked a lot of you recently, but you'll make sure he's okay? That he's not leaving?"
"Yes. Goodbye, Walter." she hangs up the phone and places it back on the table. "He's worried about you."
Peter sighs. "Well, right now, he deserves a lot more than worry." After a few moments of silence and the last of his drink, Peter reaches for the bottle.
"I knew there was something going on. So I told him I would just go ask you, and he freaked. He sat me down and told me this long story about how I'm from the other universe and he saved my life. He said you saw it that night. The glimmer." Peter's voice was tense, angry. He was holding back to keep from yelling. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice quieter, hurt.
Olivia sighed. "Walter asked me not to. He wanted to tell you himself." She took a drink.
Peter was silent for a long time. Eventually, he whispered, "He kidnapped me. He broke both worlds to take me from mine."
"You would have died, Peter. You did."
"But what about them? My parents?"
"I don't know. But Walter raised you. He loved you. He has lived with that hanging over him for years and years. I'm not saying what he did was the best choice, but it was the right one."
Peter swallowed back another drink. Olivia could tell he wasn't doing well. She poured herself a final glass then stood to put away the bottle.
She had her hand on the back of her chair when he stood. He wasn't drunk, but he was close. Mostly, he was just upset. His eyes burned from holding back tears.
"Can you still see it?" he asked quietly. "The glimmer?" His eyes were closed, as if braced for the worst.
"No," Olivia sighed. "It wore off after a couple days." She could see the relief in his eyes, but also the pain. She could tell he wasn't planning on sticking around. His hand moved toward his jacket, and Olivia panicked. "Don't go," she whispered. She could feel the fear creeping in, and she fought it. "I know your first thought is to get as far away from here as possible, but don't. I don't think Walter could take it if you left."
Peter moved closer to Olivia. Dangerously close. She could feel his warmth, even though they weren't touching. Yet. "What about you? What would you do if I left?"
Her breath hitched in her throat as he brought a hand to her cheek. She could feel it, again. The fear. A flash of gold surrounded him. He moved closer, his breath on her face. She closed her eyes to block it out. "Don't go," she whispered again, just before closing the distance between them.
Their lips moved together, urgent. One of Peter's hands brushed through her hair, the other around her waist pulling her close. Her hands rested on his cheeks, holding their faces together. Her body relaxed, molding into his. A perfect fit. He felt it, too. His hand slipped under the hem of her shirt to rub his cool fingers on the soft skin of her lower back.
When she pulled away, she rested her forehead against his, eyes still closed. She wasn't afraid of this anymore, but of it still being there. The glimmer. Peter's other hand moved from her hair to her chin, tilting it up to face him. Her eyes opened to find his. And there was no glimmer.
Her lips crashed down on his and her hands tangled in his hair. Now both his hands were on her waist. He gripped her tightly as their mouths moved in sync.
Peter backed Olivia into the kitchen counter, then lifted her onto it. Her hands had moved from his hair to his shirt, fumbling to unbutton it. She slid her hands under the fabric and let her hand res over his heart. It was beating fast, as was her own. She slid her hands up and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. She pulled out of the kiss and looked into Peter's ice blue eyes. In a single move, her shirt was off as well and their lips latched back together, nothing between their pressed bare chests.
Peter's hands back on Olivia's hips, they slid down to the top of her sweatpants and pulled. She lifted herself, allowing them to slide from underneath her, down her legs and on to the floor.
Peter lifted her off the counter and her legs hooked around his waist. His lips moved from hers to her jaw and down her neck to where it met her collarbone.
When they reached the bedroom, Olivia unwrapped herself and hey stood at the edge of the bed. Peter still kissing her neck, she began to unbuckle his belt. Once loose, he kicked off his shoes, the pants sliding off him to the floor. Both of them left only in their underwear, they fell back onto the bed.
Olivia quickly rolled on top of Peter. He began to laugh at her obvious preference for dominance, but was cut off by her mouth on his again. She pressed against him, and he groaned into her mouth. She did it again, and he flipped them over. He pulled away from her and brought a hand up to caress her cheek. He gave her a long, soft kiss before whispering, "I'm not going anywhere."