A/N : I'm in a fluffy mood. Sorry if you were looking for angst, I guess my muse will come back to it soon enough. This is possibly - probably - the first piece of a two-standalone-chapters story. It takes place between 6B and Os. Reviews are loved, cherished and answered to.

Disclaimer : I do not own Fringe, no copyright infringement intended.

Midnight visitor

The door creaked as she pushed it open, the moon light filtering through the doorframe. She silently stepped into the house and locked behind her, taking her shoes off to avoid waking the inhabitants with her heavy boots on the wooden floor. Carrying them with her, her index and ring finger of her right hand in each shoe, she soundlessly climbed the stairs, silently cursing when a step squeaked underneath her foot. Finally reaching the top of the staircase, she passed the first door on her tiptoes, holding her breath, listening for any sign that its occupant wasn't asleep. It wouldn't be unusual for him to be wide awake at one in the morning, according to the other man he was sharing the house with. Whether it was because of insomnia or simply because the twenty four hours weren't enough in one day for him to conduct each and every experiment his brain could think of, nobody knew for sure. The man himself would probably be incapable of explaining his hectic sleeping habits.

Letting her breath out, she moved her right foot in front of her, intending on carrying on to the door facing her, at the end of the hallway. Suddenly, she stopped moving, becoming a marble statue, as her left ear picked a yawn. She waited, the seconds seeming interminable, her right foot barely resting on the floor. Closing her eyes, she shook her head, feeling like a teenager being caught sneaking into her boyfriend's house by his parents. But she was a grown woman, an FBI agent, who dealt with the most inhumane, gruesome criminals on a daily basis. Feeling enough time had past, reassuring herself the scientist in the room she was currently in front of was indeed in Morpheus arms, she hurriedly but silently walked the few feet left to the other occupied bedroom.

Promptly sneaking inside the room, she softly placed her shoes along the wall near the door and discarded her jacket, throwing it on the nearby chair. Pausing to look at the man lying in the bed facing her, she couldn't help the smile adorning her face. She couldn't believe they were a couple now - a secret couple, but one nonetheless. What felt like days before to her, she could barely look in his eyes without feeling her heart break. Now all she felt was warmth enveloping her heart, and strings pulling the corners of her lips upward.

She silently got rid of her jacket and pants, neatly placing her white shirt on top of them, the items joining her jacket. Slowly, she reached the bed and pulled the covers back, trying not to rouse the snoring man who laid sprawled underneath the covers. Stifling a laugh, she wondered how she could join him without waking him; after all, the bed was barely large enough for them to cuddle, how would she fit if he used all the mattress already ? She felt bad about waking him when he slept so peacefully, but then she knew she wouldn't be able to rest at her place, and he had told her she could join him and hog the covers - his exact words - any time she felt like it.

Until that night, she hadn't taken him at his words. But he had insisted, and had told her she should use the spare key she had of their front door. She had almost forgotten she had it; it was a simple requirement for the job, to be able to get in whenever needed, and the scientist and his son were barely officially consultants back then. For him to give her his consent to use it anytime was like he was giving her a key to his apartment. She had felt giddy, but had fought the grin from her lips and had nodded, brushing her hand along his arm, making sure nobody in the lab saw the sweet gesture.

Biting her lower lip, she placed her hand on his shoulder, pushing him gently; after a few soft pushes, he rolled over, groaning but not rousing from his slumber. Letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding, she slid under the covers, her right arm gliding along his until she was hugging him from behind. Relishing into the man's warmth, she relaxed for the first time that day, letting all her thoughts drift away. She closed her eyes and burrowed her face into his back, allowing his sent to soothe her. She could already feel the first tendrils of sleep, her body limp against his, her heartbeat slowing down to match his.

As she was barely awake anymore, she felt her lover stir, his legs stretching along hers. A strong hand reached the one she had placed on his arm, caressing her skin. "Olivia ?" he mumbled, his voice laced with sleep. Humming, she hugged him more closely, rubbing her nose against his skin. "Were you expecting someone else ?" Chuckling, he slowly turned around, careful to keep them both in bed. Smiling, he placed a soft kiss on her lips, his eyes sparkling. "I wouldn't dream of it." Looking at him through her heavy eyelids, she couldn't find anything to say, her right hand absently tracing circles on his skin.

"Couldn't sleep ?" he asked, his trademarked crease forming on his forehead. Shrugging, she gave him an apologetic smile; he knew she had trouble finding sleep, but she had stubbornly refused to use any medicine. He couldn't blame her.

"What is it ?" he wondered in hushed voice. He was supporting his head on his right arm, his left hand caressing the blond strands of her lose hair, lulling her. She couldn't find any explanation; insomnia usually found her during a case, when she couldn't rest until her brain clicked and she found out the culprit. It had been more than a week since their last Fringe case, and all she was doing was tying lose ends and writing reports.

"Nothing." His eyes conveyed what he didn't voice, begging her to tell him what was bothering her, to not shut him down. "I missed you." And it was true. She had returned to an empty home, to an empty bed, after a particularly long and boring day. His father had taken up all Peter's attention for days, oblivious of the recent evolution in his son's love life.

Sighing, Peter brought his lips to hers, sleepily kissing her. Moving to her neck, he burrowed his face against her shoulder, hugging her. "I missed you, too. I'm sorry I couldn't come b- " She cut him, shaking her head. "Don't worry, I understand. Once he's heard we'll never see the end of it. I want to secretly enjoy this while we can, we'll tell him soon enough." Nodding, he pulled back, stealing a kiss from her before pulling her with him. Peter laid on his back, Olivia pressed against him, her soft form keeping him warm. Her arms found their way around his body, enveloping him with all her love. He wanted to tell the world about he and Olivia, he wanted to shout from the top of his lungs, for everyone to know they were finally happy together. But he liked the secrecy, the stolen kisses and the lingering looks. He liked having her all for himself, at least for a little while. They would either announce the change in their relationship or somebody would discover it soon enough. For now they lived in their bubble, basking in happiness. And it was more than any of them would have dared imagine only days earlier.