Olivia watched as pouring the salt into the water made it stir to life. As it absorbed the salt, it resembled fog as seen through a mirror. The steam rose around her, a caress beckoning her into the tank. No one knew that Olivia used the tank from time to time. There was nothing better for a migraine than submerging yourself into a hot bath isolated from all light and sound.
Her thoughts were muddled, by both pain and exhaustion, as she mechanically removed her clothing. With every layer she removed, she felt just a bit freer. As if her neatly pressed suit was armor she no longer had to bear. As the last of her shirt buttons finally submitted to her ministrations, she let out a ragged sigh. Tossing it onto a nearby monitor, she descended into the tank.
Olivia greeted the darkness and silence as an old friend. It was odd that she found floating in the tank as soothing as she did given her past experiences. Her first experience in the tank involved trying to reach her dying lover, followed by trying to exorcize said lover from her mind. Then the tank was used to cross universes, also a rather traumatic experience. But the truth of it was that in the tank it was just her. Simplistic but poignant. That burden to do what must be done, the responsibilities of her past, the heavy feeling of knowing all those people out there doing damage that would continue to do so unless she stopped them. Talk about weight of the world, Olivia wasn't even sure how to begin to describe bearing the weight of multiple universes.
Her peace was short lived, however, even through the thick metal she heard the unmistakable sound of a door opening and closing, or rather slamming. She steeled her nerves and resisted the urge to jump out and face the intruder. She had no weapon, and it was unlikely the intruder would think anyone was in the tank. It was possible it was Walter unable to find sleep due to some breakthrough, either a way to grow a spleen or a new taffy flavour. Or it could be Peter; Olivia had arrived to the lab to find him on a number of mornings, pouring over diagrams, searching for that missing piece home in every line and equation.
Olivia crept to the door to the tank and opened it just slightly so she could listen. Whoever it was, they were pacing. Back and forth. There was a rhythm to it: a dozen steps and then the smallest of squeaks, like someone was spinning around on the spot. There was a voice, while it was only a low muttering, Olivia could never mistake it. It was her voice, or rather the Alternate Olivia.
Olivia bit her lip to swallow the groan that threatened to escape at this disturbing realization. Her alternate was the reason for her migraine and being here in the first place. It only figured her alternate would turn up the moment she found some solace. She'd come over from the other side to help with a case. Another hybrid shape shifter was making trouble and the other side wanted to show good faith that they were not behind it by offering their aid. Or rather the aid of Alternate her.
They'd spent the entire day pouring over files, looking for a pattern, a rationale for the shape shifter's actions that could be traced back to a source. It'd been a long day. The only highlight being the moment she caught Liv trying to scroll down on her file. Her fingers trailing down it, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, and then furrowing even more at her at her distracted mistake. It was clear she was accustomed to her words appearing on a screen rather than a page. Liv's head remained focused on the file in front of her, but Olivia didn't miss her eyes darting up to see if she'd been caught. Olivia bit her lip to keep her smirk hidden and instead reached for another file.
The differences were so glaring at times, and so blurry at others. It wasn't as if she didn't smirk or find humour in life, it's just that she didn't choose to indulge in it. Liv seemed to indulge herself a lot. It infuriated her, as it often did, how little it seemed to bother the other Olivia to be around her. She seemed so relaxed, almost loose, a feeling Olivia could rarely manage even in the comfort of her own home. Then again, given that she could now hear the staccato of her alternate's harried pacing, perhaps she'd gotten more under Liv's skin than she'd realized.
With a resigned huff, Olivia pushed her hair back and emerged from the tank. There was no point delaying it any longer as her alternate seemed unlikely to leave any time soon. She avoided looking at Liv until she had both feet on solid ground. She felt off balance facing her alternate enough at is was. That said, it seemed Liv was the one off balance this time. She was just staring at her. She'd shucked her leather jacket at some point, leaving her just in a white v-neck and a dark cameo pair of cargo pants. Her gun was hanging limp in her hand, most likely drawn during her sudden appearance. She seemed like she was frozen in the middle of a movement, leaning forward ever so slightly like she had intended to take a step forward, but had changed her mind. Stuck in her forward momentum, when all Olivia wanted to do was back up into the tank.
All that could be heard in the half-lit room was the steady drops of water hitting the floor from her hair and limbs. Ironically it was when she was clad in only her underwear that she felt the least exposed to Liv, but this was probably because Liv was lacking all her usual bravado. She looked tired, even more tired than she herself felt.
"What are you doing here?" Liv's voice was surprisingly quiet. Her eyes were still appraising her, rolling up and down her frame. Looking for what, Olivia did not know. Olivia felt her defenses prickle at the question; this was her lab, her world.
"I could ask you the same question."