Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been five months since my last Fringe post...
Residence
Of course, Bell not leaving hadn't been considered.
It's always been a question of how and where. Never had Peter postulated on the duration of when. In the interim, Peter has taken to peering at every container sideways. A rebuilt server, the water tank and an orange juice bottle have been weighed as possible hosts.
With that last suggestion, they think he's gone a little pear-shaped. He believes it's called desperate.
Do they make change of address forms for this?
He tries not to think about wrinkled skin when viewing her flawlessness in sunlight, tries not to recall his hands sweeping the dangerous curves that now move with a graceless jilt. Indeed, the sight of an inexperienced operator maneuvering that body stomps the life out of Peter's previously rampant desire.
The issue is in no way enhanced by the fresh gravel instilled in her voice. A reminder that she is not herself, that a dried prune has stolen Aphrodite's shell.
Shoving the man's essence into a Tic Tac box looks promising.
Bell seems to be taking a depraved delight in his current vessel. From his youth, Peter remembers that the older man had never been much to look at. Reincarnation into a stunning blonde woman has given the scientist an exceptional window from which to view the world.
Just when she only had eyes for Peter...
When Agent Dunham challenged the abrasive stranger to call her sweetheart again, the gentleman squatting in the hollows of his psyche tried to repossess his body from the greedy bastard who'd taken up residence. It started then.
And it's stalled now.
In all the time he's known her, Peter has never been capable of non-sexual thoughts in Olivia's presence. Until now.
Every so often, Astrid will clear her throat, the curly head bobbing toward a would-be woman discovering how to thrust out a hip to its greatest advantage. No matter how practiced, it looks geriatric under Bell's control.
The scientific method calls for trial and error, fail and recalculate. In the interest of exploration, test driving the opposite sex might go further than merely posture play.
For science, naturally.
The idea of Bell experimenting with his new toy keeps Peter awake at night.
And if Olivia finds out there was any questionable conduct, she'll be ten shades of pissed. Which Peter will allow, nurture even, after his lips have reasserted a prodigiously thorough claim on the mouth presently describing to Walter the limitations of the female urinary arrangement.
In detail.
Whatever vessel they find for Bell, it had better be bulletproof.