Hey y'all! So sorry that It's been ages since I've posted anything, and my review track has been a bit skimpy lately - I've been extremely busy with life... in general :P

Anywho, here's something I found in my computer that I started back in february, but never got to complete for a variety of reasons... writer's block, the whole busy-bee thing, blah blah blah.

I hope you all enjoy this little Bolivia story I wrote about the superbowl.... cuz I love football, and cuz I've kinda made a habit of writing a fic for the superbowl each year :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Fringe. Never will. I'd probably have too much fun with it and drive y'all crazy.

Superbowl XLIII At the Bishops'

"Hello?"

"Olivia? It's Peter."

"Oh… hi Peter. Um… what's up?"

"Not much, but I was wondering if you'd like to come and watch the game with Walter and I."

"The game?"

"The Superbowl, Dunham. Cardinals verses Steelers."

"Right… um, I'd love to come, yeah."

"Great. See you, let's say, around six?"

"See you then."

"'K, bye."

That was the phone conversation that Olivia had had with Peter around noon. Now, as she checker her watch, it was ten past five, and all she could do was worry about her appearance.

Olivia frowned at the figure that looked back at her in the floor length mirror. The reflection just frowned back. Her hair was down, and she'd tried her hand at giving it a bit of a curl, just for a small change from her normally pin-straight everyday style... if you could even call it a style. She'd considered wearing a blouse, a considerably nicer one than she usually wore, but she dropped the idea and ended up deciding on a black V-neck sweater. Instead of her usual slacks, Olivia had donned a pair of jeans, something she hadn't worn in ages. They weren't exactly with the modern jean fashion – wider at the ankles and on the lighter side of denim blue, as opposed to the trendy dark and navy blues.

Crossing her harms across her chest, then letting them dangle at her sides, and finally coming to rest on her hips, Olivia mulled over how well the outfit fit her.

This is the Superbowl. You're going to watch a football game. Relax.

She sighed and let her shoulders slouch. This was ridiculous; it wasn't like she was going on a date or anything. Then again, Peter had never asked her to come 'hang out' or 'watch the game' before. Not that she would expect him to either. And then there was Walter. Olivia smirked. Having the mad-scientist-who-just-got-out-of-a-mental-institution-father-of-the-date along with you definitely verified that this was not a date whatsoever. She shouldn't have anything to be worrying about.

Yet here she was, worrying over how she should have just left her hair alone, that the blonde waves made her look too girly, and debating whether or not it would be worth it to throw on some extra eyeliner and mascara.

Oh for God's sake…

This was getting out of hand. Olivia wanted to look nice, but not overly preppy. This was just going to be two co-workers, friends, no – two mature adults – and one mentally unstable scientist – hanging out and watching the game.

Olivia checked her watch again. Amidst all her fretting, Olivia had lost track of time and it was already a quarter to six. In this weather, it would take at least twenty minutes to get to the Bishops' hotel, if she was lucky.

Grabbing her coat and boots, Olivia snatched up a pad of paper and pen to quickly scribble a note to Rachel and Ella. The two were out at McDonald's for dinner and she didn't want them to worry as to her whereabouts when they arrived home to find an empty, Olivia-less apartment.

Placing the note on the island in the kitchen and hoping that it would be distinguishable among the many crayon drawings of Ella's, the folders, and God knows what else, Olivia grabbed her keys and dashed out the door. Being late was never something she'd been known for, and this wasn't the time to change that.

X

Olivia arrived at the door to the hotel suite at exactly eight minutes past six. She smiled to herself. Her aim hadn't been to be exactly on time, but this, what one might call 'fashionably late' was just perfect.

She knocked quickly, bluntly ignoring the sudden rise in her pulse. Peter answered the door not more than a few seconds later, greeting her with a vibrant smile. Olivia tried not to stare – but she couldn't help it. He looked positively dashing in a white dress shirt and dark blue jeans. Her eyes traveled to Peter's shirt again, forcing her to take notice of the fact that the top two buttons were undone.

"Hi," she smiled back enthusiastically; the result of the sudden odd, giddy sensation that originated somewhere in her midsection.

"Olivia, hey, come on in," Peter's grin widened and he beckoned her across the threshold and took her coat for her. She smiled to herself at his simple courtesy. Olivia turned back to him and he grazed her elbow with his hand, guiding her into the so-called 'living room' of the suite.

Walter was already sitting in an armchair in front of the TV with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, his eyes eagerly glued to the screen. However, he looked up at Olivia's entrance and let out a peal of laughter.

"My dear! You're finally here, I was afraid that you would miss the game!"

"I'm not too late, am I?" Olivia suddenly felt a bit stupid for being fashionably late. Obviously, that was something you didn't do when watching football.

But Peter smiled again and shook his head. "It's no problem, the game just started."

Olivia blushed, embarrassed, and took a seat on the small couch. Peter did likewise.

"Hey, you want a beer?" Peter asked her, jumping up from the couch no sooner than he'd sat down, "We've got Guinness, Killian's, some Canadian stuff… Molson's or something…"

"A Guinness would be great thanks," she replied and sat back into the cushions, beginning to feel a bit more comfortable with her surroundings, and the prospect of a good beer.

"Great, I'll be right back." Peter winked and hurried out to the kitchen.

Walter leaned over to Olivia. "He's very excited about this, you know," the scientist whispered, "he's been trying to make everything just perfect for you all day, sprucing things up, making the room look nicer, getting drinks and some… real food." Olivia blushed even deeper. "He really likes you, Miss Dunham. It's very sweet to see my son going to such lengths for a woman," Walter continued, smiling fondly at a very red-faced Olivia.

She was about to try and formulate a response when Peter appeared around the corner with four beers. "What are you two conspiring about?" he joked, placing the beers on the small coffee table beside the bowl of chips.

"Oh, nothing really," Walter replied mysteriously, giving Olivia a secretive smile and shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Peter raised an eyebrow at his father, but let it go with a shrug and took his seat beside Olivia.

"Drink up, Dunham," he grinned slyly and offered her a beer in his outstretched hand.

Olivia blushed again. This was absurd. Crazy. She hadn't even had one drink yet, and she knew that her cheeks were already a bright shade of red that would undoubtedly last as long as she stayed in the hotel suite, if not for the rest of the evening.

X

Some hours and more than a few beers later, Olivia found herself laughing like she hadn't laughed in years, slumped over on the couch and gripping her side, almost to the point of tears, all from a story or joke that Peter had told a minute or so ago. She was too drunk to remember exactly what it was that was so hysterical that she had to lean over and grasp for something stable to anchor herself to, or risk falling off the couch entirely. Her shoulder found something warm and stable, so without thinking, Olivia let her head loll against it as well, her body still shaking with giggles and uncontrollable mirth. It was only when her anchor moved and began to tremble with the same giddy laughter that her drunken brain keyed in and she realized with a jolt that she was laying against Peter's shoulder. She jumped back and looked up from her half-crouched half-curled up position to find Peter's deep green eyes looking back at her. Silence fell on the pair for a moment, but then she smiled widely and burst into laughter once again, and at the exact same moment, Peter did too.

Olivia loved it – they way they were just laughing – laughing for the sole purpose of being happy and letting go of everything for a moment. Olivia smiled as her brain fuzzily tried to recall the events up to this point in the evening. The football game had ended about an hour ago, and it had been celebrated in full force. Walter had jumped up when the Steelers had officially won the game and begun to dance around the room, pulling Peter and Olivia along with him. But first, Peter, who had had a few too many drinks himself, had jumped up beside Olivia who was already on her feet and cheering along with the stadium full of football fans, and pulled her into a hug from behind. The two of them had lost their footing and collapsed backwards onto the couch, still in a semi-embrace. Olivia could remember feeling his body pressed up against her back and feeling his breath tickling her ear, making her bubbly with girlish giggles.

Walter had gone to bed soon after, muttering something about 'giving his son some privacy' and 'keeping his distance' but Olivia hadn't really thought much of it. All she was thinking of now was how pretty Peter's eyes had looked just a second ago when they were boring into hers. She had regained some of her composure and was currently sitting on the couch beside Peter with her feet tucked underneath her, reaching for the almost-empty beer bottle on the coffee table.

"God, this is good beer, Peter," she grinned, running a hand through what she knew must be very messy, mussed up hair, and took a gulp of the still slightly chilled drink.

Peter reached for his bottle, and, finding that it was empty, leaned in close to Olivia like he was about to tell her a big secret. Olivia shifted her position to lean in closer to him, enthralled by this new mischievous glint in his eyes, which were getting prettier by the second. "I know it's good stuff…" Peter began, gesturing to the empty bottle in his hand and dropped his voice to an even lower undertone, "and that's why I stashed another few glasses in the back drawer of the mini fridge… so Walter wouldn't see them." His speech came out a bit slurred here and there, but Olivia was overall impressed by his sense of control, even when intoxicated. He grinned at her, his face abnormally close to hers, and with every moment Olivia was more and more captivated by him. His smell, a mixture of his signature cologne, though Olivia had no idea what it was, was smothering her, and the added hint of alcohol just made it richer in her lungs. The lingering feel of his arms around her waist and the soft touch of his lips against her earlobe, and of course those eyes of his were like two green abysses that danced with lights that could be plants and stars in the night sky. God, they were so mesmerizing, she could just sit and watch them dance all night….

"I'm going to go grab us those beers, ok?" Peter asked, standing up with a considerable amount of grace for someone who had just drunk several beers.

Olivia was slightly disappointed for a moment form their lack of proximity, but she nodded and let her eyes follow his back until he was out of her field of vision. Momentarily free from whatever kind of enchantment Peter had woven over her, Olivia's head cleared just a little bit and one question resounded in her mind: What the hell am I doing?

A flood of panic began to wash over her. Her pulse skyrocketed and her instincts were screaming at her to jump up, grab her coat and leave. But something was rooting her to the spot and that was what scared her most – an element of her mind was doing everything in its power to prevent her from leaving. Usually, she was all for or against an idea, and once she was set on it, there was no turning back or changing her mind. However, lately, all these weird cases were shaking up her definitive sense of what to do in a situation – and this, right here right now in the Bishops' hotel room, this was the cause of the most stressful decision she had made in the last few months.

With a beer in each hand, Peter came back into the room to find Olivia sitting rigidly on the couch like she'd just seen a ghost. The drunkenly cute smile was wiped off his face immediately and replaced with one of worry. Olivia saw his brow furrow and tried to prepare herself for the onslaught of care that he would undoubtedly display for her at a time like this. Peter always was the first to jump to her side when she showed even the slightest hint that something might be wrong.

Peter quickly put the beers down on the table and took a cautious step towards Olivia. "'Livia? What's the matter?"

"I… I have to go…" Olivia stuttered, suddenly finding her legs and hopping off the couch like it was on fire. After all her drinks, standing up quickly made her head spin, but Olivia was determined to get to the door without falling and looking weak. Before she could make it more than two wobbly steps to the door, Peter's arm was around her shoulders, holding her fast. "Peter, please, I really need to leave…"

He gently turned her to face him. His eyes locked with hers and Olivia was powerless. "Olivia." He spoke softly, "What's wrong?"

For half a second, Olivia considered trying to tell him the truth, but the last sober voice in her head screamed 'no'. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, not knowing whether she should even bother saying anything at all. So she settled with the second best to the truth – part of it.

"I just can't be here, not now, I've had too much to drink and I need to work tomorrow –," Olivia began to get exasperated at her lack of articulacy, but Peter cut her off before it could turn into a rant that she would later regret letting slip.

"Hey," he put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. "I know this – you're not driving home like this."

"I can call a cab?" Olivia asked, almost desperately. She needed to get away from here, and soon, because Peter's scent was starting to take over her again. It was filling her lungs with every shallow breath she took, making it harder for her to think clearly.

"But you'll need your car in the morning, and it's here right now. So you know what?" Peter raised his eyebrows like he actually wanted her to guess, a small smile dancing across his lips.

She gulped. "What?" Olivia knew what was coming, she knew what he was going to say, and no matter what she said, it wouldn't make a difference.

"You can stay the night, and don't worry, I won't make you sleep with Walter – you can take my couch." Despite herself, Olivia smiled just a little bit at his words.

"But what about you?"

He shrugged. "I'll just grab some blankets or something and kick back on the floor." Peter's eyes found hers again and held her gaze. "How does that sound?"

There it was. The odd sensation that arose somewhere in Olivia's stomach whenever Peter made that face at her. The charm, the boyish smile, the smell, the hand gently touching her shoulder. If there was a little, sober voice in her mind, it was gone now or Olivia just couldn't hear it over the deafening silence that hung between them as Peter waited for her answer.

Olivia folded her arms across her chest. "Sure. Thank you, Peter."

His grin widened and he gave her shoulder a light squeeze. "That's great, 'Liv. I'm going to get us some blankets, be right back."

And with that he was gone, and Olivia was left standing in the middle of the room, staring blankly in front of her, wondering what the hell had just happened. As soon as Peter was out of sight, she dropped her shoulders and let out a long breath. Olivia was surprised at how tense she must've been – she didn't even know that she'd been holding her breath.

Peter was back a second later, his arms laden with an assortment of sheets with varying floral patterns on them. "So, I found some extra blankets for you if you need more than what I usually use, and these… if – if you wanted to change into something a bit more comfortable." Peter smiled, pulling a pair of sweats and an oversized football jersey out of the balled up sheets. Seeing Olivia notice the jersey, Peter chuckled and mumbled, "I thought it was fitting."

She smiled back and took the clothes from his outstretched hand. "Very, thanks."

"Bathroom's right over there," Peter jerked his thumb over his shoulder at a door on the other side of the room. She nodded and hurriedly went into the classic white-tiles hotel-style bathroom to change, noting that the jersey in particular had a pungent Peter-ish odor to it. Olivia smiled as the garment slipped lightly over her head and hung loosely around her slim figure.

Olivia emerged form the bathroom to find Peter lying out sheets on top of the think rug. He turned and, taking in her appearance, stifled a laugh. "Look at you! Lookin' like a real sports fan, there, 'Liv."

Self-conscious, Olivia just smiled and shook her head as she climbed underneath the blankets that Peter had laid out for her on the couch. In her preoccupation with getting the covers right up under her chin, Olivia failed to notice Peter taking off his shirt and stripping down to his boxers before he was directly in her line of vision. A deep blush immediately reddened her cheeks and neck at the sight of him. It wasn't like he hadn't greeted her numerous times in the wee hours of the morning for a case in similar attire, but for some reason, tonight, it took her by even more surprise and Olivia was unable to conceal her blush.

You're drunk… don't let yourself get carried away, Olivia's fuzzy thoughts were mingled with ones about Peter that she knew shouldn't be there, so she rolled on her back to stare fixedly at the ceiling in a futile attempt to clear her head.

"Goodnight Olivia," Peter grinned and lay down on the mattress of blankets, pulling a few on top of him.

She rolled onto her side again to face him. "Goodnight Peter… and thanks again for letting me stay."

A coy smile and a quiet "Think nothing of it," was his reply. Olivia nodded in acknowledgement and resumed her position on her back, tracing the patters in the ceiling plaster with her eyes. Pulling up the covers right around her neck, Olivia inhaled and smiled. They smelled like Peter. God, how she loved his smell. It was so comforting and set her frenzied mind at ease. Before she knew it, Olivia could feel herself drifting off to sleep and she welcomed it, sinking ever further into the warmth of Peter's blankets.

X

Olivia was woken by what felt like a sledgehammer banging repeatedly against her forehead. She frowned and opened her eyes slowly. It took a moment for the events of the previous night to sink in, but once they did, Olivia immediately knew the cause of the sledgehammer-like effect on her head – a hangover. She moaned and put a hand to her brow. In doing so, Olivia caught a glimpse of her watch, still on her wrist, having never been removed before she had crashed.

9:48 AM

Shit, Olivia thought and sprang up from the couch. Ignoring the hangover, the exhausted agent made her hurriedly over to her pile of clothes, tripping over the countless-sizes-too-big sweatpants and falling head first into the tangled pile of sheets that had been Peter's bed. Obviously, he was already up. Why didn't he wake me? Olivia half mumbled as she simply took off the oversized pants. They were too much of a bother to wear, and the t-shirt alone was almost long enough to be a dress on her. In any case, it wasn't like anyone was going to see her. The suite was silent with dust particles drifting through beams of sunlight the flooded in the Easterly windows. Walter was probably still asleep, and lord knows where Peter was.

Olivia picked up her clothes and turned to head to the bathroom and change when, out of nowhere, Peter came around the corner. Olivia gasped, surprised at his stealthy entrance. He was fully dressed, wearing loose jeans and a button down shirt, a mug of coffee in his hand.

"'Morning, sunshine," he greeted her warmly, walking up to her with a slight swagger, probably the result of another hangover, his gentle eyes only leaving her face once to notice what she was wearing. A smirk and a chuckle brought his features to life as his eyes met hers again. "No pants, eh? You really did make yourself at home."

Olivia crossed her arms across her chest defensively, but the sparkle in his eyes told her it was all in play. "They were too big," she stated matter-of-factly. "You really should get some more fitting clothes if you're going to ask people to stay the night like that."

"I'll keep that in mind," Peter nodded, those eyes of his even greener than usual in the intense golden sunlight that brought them to life.

"I'm going to be late for work, I have a mountain of paperwork to do –,"

" – So you're going to go get changed now and that you're nice way of telling me to shut up."

Olivia's eyes went wide. How did he know that? Peter's expression softened at the sight of hers. "Don't look so serious! I'm kidding, Olivia." Peter's eyes shifted and began to look suspicious again. "Unless that's what you really were trying to do."

Olivia frowned again, not knowing quite what to say until Peter burst out into laughter, just as joyful as he'd been the previous night, making her feel like a total idiot. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist," he confessed. She smiled, infected by his crazy mood and dropped her chin slightly to avoid letting him see her crimson cheeks.

"Hey, 'Liv."

A hand gently cupped her chin and tilted her head back up. Peter's eyes, now much closer to hers, gazed earnestly back at her. "I didn't mean to make you blush."

"I really should go get ready now," she said quietly, as some of the feelings from last night were beginning to bubble up inside her. Peter's hand remained on her chin and his face still precariously close to hers for a moment. She watched his eyes with a shielded curiosity. It was like they were searching for something in her, but couldn't quite locate whatever it was. However, just before he released her, Olivia could have sworn that there was a flash of recognition on his face, like he'd found what he was looking for in her.

Olivia passed by him and gently brushed her shoulder against his on her way to the bathroom. She changed hastily and emerged in a bustle, trying to get out the door as fast as she could. But at the same time, Olivia wanted to take as long as she could and draw out her stay. He was turning her into a bipolar mess.

Peter caught up with her when she was hurriedly pulling on her shoes at the door. "So…" he said slowly, watching her struggle in her haste to get to work, "This was fun, eh? We should do this again sometime."

The comment caught Olivia off guard as she pulled on her last shoe and stood to face him awkwardly. "Yeah, yeah it was. I mean, we should. Again."

"Yeah, definitely."

"I – I guess I'll see you at the lab in a few hours?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Peter winked at her, once again rendering Olivia temporarily helpless.

"Bye, 'Liv," he said gently and leant in to give her a quick one-armed hug. At least, that's what it started out as. Without warning, Olivia suddenly felt Peter's lips lightly against her cheek. His little bit of scruff tickled her skin and Olivia smiled involuntarily. Peter pulled away, this time with a slight blush creeping up his neck, and gave her one of his crooked grins that always made her smile, no matter what the situation. This morning was no exception.

"See you, Peter," she replied, the same smile still plastered to her face as she turned and stepped into the hallway.

"'Later," he called with a small wave after her. Olivia glanced back one last time to catch a peek at Peter's face as he saw her off. His grin was still there too.

Olivia heard the door close behind her when Walter's voice drifted to her ears.

"Was that Miss Dunham? Did she stay the night, Peter?"

"Yes, Walter, she did and before you even ask, no we didn't."

"But you had quite a lot to drink last night, son…."

This was something she was going to have to question Peter about later in the day. That, and the remaining feeling of Peter's lips on her cheek were the two most prominent things on her mind as she stepped into the elevator. Other images popped in and out of her mind as they pleased, and each time a new one reminded her of something that the alcohol had made her forget, it further solidified the legitimacy of the question "What the hell is wrong with you?" in her mind, but it also did the job of keeping Olivia's smile permanently etched on her face for the rest of the day.

Any thoughts? I'd love to hear about it in a review, I really would :)

Oh, and how awesome was Bad Dreams??? It's m'fave ep so far!!!

xoxo