A/N: If you haven't watched Fringe you are missing out. Seriously. Fringe is the all time best show ever. It is so good, I have been hesitant to even try to write fic about it because I know there is no way I can do it justice. So, this is just a tiny drabble that I coughed up. I've decided that I want to be a die hard Walter and Astrid shipper. Yes, it is a thing. Just go with it. So, this is my first Fringe fic and it is about Walstrid. Or Aster. Or Bishworth. Whatever… I haven't finalized the name yet. It is just a light hearted romp. And the lyrics to "Five Years" do not belong to me. I did not write them. They belong to and were written by David Bowie. I hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to comment. I always appreciate a thoughtful comment almost as much as Walter appreciates a good strawberry milkshake.
"Astro!" Walter yelled into the cavernous lab. "I need three bunsen burners and seven sterile erlenmeyer flasks, pronto!"
"Walter," Astrid said patiently, stepping out from the back office area. "It is high time you learned my name. It is also high time you learned that I am not your slave, and I told you multiple times that I was leaving on time tonight."
"Hmmm? No, dear. I'm not high Not yet anyhow." Walter said without looking up from his notes.
"You didn't hear anything I just said, did you?" Astrid snapped.
Walter looked up from his work. He sucked his breath in sharply as he regarded the woman before him as though he had never before seen her. "Why, Agent Farnsworth. You look lovely."
"Thank you, Walter." Astrid smiled, running her hands over the purple silk of her cocktail dress. She swung her coat around over her shoulders and slipped her arms into the sleeves.
"But, what is the occasion?"
"Remember? I told you I was going out tonight. I have a date."
"But with whom?" Walter asked in pure perplexion.
"Well, when you say it like that, it seems completely impossible that you think I might have a date with someone."
"No. No. I don't mean that. I just have never known you to, eh, date before."
"I guess we don't know everything about each other, Walter," Astrid sighed. She patted his arm. "Anyway, since you asked, I'm going out with Brandon. You remember, Nina's lab assistant at Massive Dynamic?"
"Him?" Walter crinkled up his nose and forehead as he thought of the scientist. And then he furrowed his brow in irritation as he realized he wouldn't have anyone to help him in the lab that night. "But, if you go out, then who will stay here with me?"
"What about Peter?"
"Oh, he's out with his girlfriend, Agent Dunham," Walter said and the statement brought a smile to his face as he considered the happy couple. He rubbed his hands together and bounced a bit on his heels.
"I'm pretty sure you can call her Olivia now that she and Peter are together."
"How right you are, Ostrich!" Walter cried happily, looking back to the pile of papers in front of him. He rifled around in them and found a couple strands of red licorice. He held one out to Astrid, who had crossed her arms angrily over her chest.
"Really?" She said, but her tone was light and gentle as it always was. "Ostrich? Walter that's not even a name. It's an animal."
But Walter had gone back to scribbling notes on his dry erase board, looking back and forth between it and the papers on the lab bench next to him. He had a piece of licorice hanging out of his mouth and was chewing it in a steady rhythm as he worked.
"I need some Bowie," he said suddenly and did a little hopping turn to fetch his record.
It had been two years since Astrid started working for this bizarrely brilliant man, and although he didn't yet call her by her given name, she felt certain there was a devoted fondness beneath all his distracted and occasionally ill-humored manner. He'd been devastated when he learned of her attack in the lab after he had gotten lost in Chinatown. He'd been so sad and tender as he regarded her swollen face and she had felt oddly comforted by his fingers as they glanced over her bruised flesh.
As she considered him, she felt a reciprocal fondness for him as well. She'd grown accustomed to his odd behavior, non sequitur remarks, and even for the ridiculous way he could never get her name right.
"You're lucky you're cute," she said under her breath as she turned to go.
"What was that, dear?"
"I was just saying if that's all, then I am going to go."
"Ah, yes. Alright then. Be safe out there."
Astrid turned and made her way toward the door of the lab. She was on the top step, her back to Walter, when her phone rang. She opened the clasp on her clutch and dug her phone out. "Hello? Oh. Ok. No, it's fine. I understand. Sure. A rain check then. Alright. You too. Bye." She slipped the phone back into her purse and bit her lip. She started back down the steps toward Walter.
"Did you forget something?" Walter asked. He looked up from his work, his face filled with genuine concern. "Did you change your mind about bringing along a canister of my mescaline mace with you?"
"Mescaline mace?" Astrid couldn't help but ask.
"Oh yes! It is a new product I've developed. The mace temporarily stuns the attacker, while the mescaline disorients them and puts them into a hallucinatory stupor. It is a product that I hope will help women on the go, ah, such as yourself." He turned back towards the store room. "Just let me grab you a sample."
"Walter, no. I do not want any mescaline mace. I don't even see how that could be helpful. And I'm also pretty sure that would be illegal to carry around on the streets of Boston. Or anywhere." Astrid's shoulders rose and fell in a big sigh. "That was Brandon. He had to fly back to New York early and isn't able to meet up for our date tonight. So I guess I can help you with sterilizing your erlenmeyer flasks afterall."
"Oh that will be fantastic," Walter said turning back to Astrid and clapping his hands together. "But Agent Farnsworth, why do you look so sad?"
"Don't take this the wrong way, but sterilizing lab equipment is not really my idea of an amazing Saturday night. I was really looking forward to going out with Brandon. It was so tempting to think of having a little romance and excitement in my life. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've been out on a date with a guy, let alone kissed one?" Astrid put her clutch down on the lab bench and started to take off her coat. "I'm just disappointed. That's all."
"I am sorry," Walter said, but his green eyes glittered and Astrid could tell he was selfishly glad to have her company.
"I guess it's just you, me, and the autoclave," she said.
"But my dear, there is hardly anything at all more romantic than science. Come now. We will find a way to take your mind off of all your troubles." Walter walked over to Astrid and helped her take off her coat. "Ah, and if we can't find a way, we will simply invent one. Now how about I make you a strawberry milkshake?"
"That would be nice," Astrid conceded. "I'll go get the ice cream and blender."
"It's just our luck Jean gave us a fresh batch of milk this afternoon which I purified and set to chill in the refrigerator. You can grab that as well when you are back there."
Astrid returned with the blender and then went back to get the ice cream, milk and strawberry syrup. She also brought out a fresh box of Peek Freans. She set everything up on the bench. "At least there aren't any cadavers in here for once," she said with as much cheer as she could muster.
"To be honest, I find it a bit lonely in here without them," Walter sighed and set to scooping out strawberry ice cream. "Now, would you enjoy a little hit of something in here? It is after all Saturday night?"
"Walter, for the eight hundredth time, I do not do hallucinogens." Astrid said without batting an eye, and it struck her that conversations such as this one had become commonplace in her life.
"Ah, yes, yes. Pity that," Walter muttered as he measured out the strawberry syrup. Walter's fingers pressed the button on the blender and the lab was filled with the whir of metal blades liquefying ice cream and milk. When the blender stopped, they could hear the song:
News guy wept when he told us Earth was really dying.
Cried so much that his face was wet.
Then I knew he was not lying.
David Bowie sang in a scratchy voice from the record player. Walter's hips shimmied, without his brain really realizing what he was doing, in time with the music. Astrid watched and a smile spread over her face.
"Here you are," he said and handed her a frosty glass of milkshake. "Maybe this will help to make spending Saturday night with me to be not so bad afterall." His fingers brushed over hers as she took the glass.
"Spending any night with you is never a bad thing, Walter," she said as she took the glass. They clinked their milkshakes together and took a sip. "So what are we working on tonight anyway?"
A sly smile spread over Walter's face and his eyes shifted up and to the right. "I am perfecting my recipe for Violet Genie."
"Oh my goodness, Walter. I'm almost afraid to ask. What on earth is Violet Genie?"
"It is a special blend of LSD and benzodiazepine that is meant to enhance the psychedelic effects of the lysergic acid while decreasing the side effect of anxiety and vomiting."
"I am pretty sure I could lose my shield for helping you with this, uh, project," Astrid said, shaking her head with dismay. Not only was she not going out on her date with Brandon, but she was committing a felony here in the lab with a former inmate of the St. Clair's Institution. She wondered if she should call Peter and Olivia, but thought better of it. At least someone should be enjoying a romantic Saturday night out and about.
"Do you know what your problem is, Asterix?"
"It's Astrid, Walter. I mean, seriously, how would you feel if I started calling you Waldo, or Warren or something besides your name?" She suddenly felt very tense and annoyed. Here she was with a man who could never remember her name, instead of going out with Brandon, a handsome and intelligent man who actually knew her name. "But what is my problem?"
"You need to relax, my dear. Have a bit of fun!" He set his glass down on the lab bench and did a little twirl in time to the music.
I think I saw you in an ice-cream parlor,
Drinking milk shakes cold and long
Smiling and waving and looking so fine
Don't think you knew you were in this song.
Astrid giggled in spite of herself. Walter shimmied over to her and swept up her hands. He placed her hands on his shoulders and engaged her in a bit of a box step. Astrid put her arms around his neck. She felt a bit dizzy and rested her head on his shoulder, the wool of his sweater soft as a pillow under her temple.
"We've got five years," Walter sang along with the song. "What a surprise."
"Did you put something in my milkshake?" Astrid asked, laughing and leaning up against Walter.
"No. Of course not." Walter's hands were warm through the thin material of her dress. "Well, the strawberry syrup might have fermented, or maybe I distilled it with vodka. But I'm pretty sure there was no LSD in any of the ingredients."
"Pretty sure?" Astrid asked and for a moment her face was worried.
"Relax, dear," Walter said and kept dancing. It felt nice to have a woman in his arms, her head against his chest. He looked down into her curls and held her a bit tighter. "Is that coconut?"
"What?"
"In your hair? Does your shampoo have a coconut oil base?"
"Oh. Yes. It is a coconut shampoo."
"Smells lovely," Walter said and inhaled deeply, oblivious to whether or not his sniffing was making Astrid uncomfortable. "And amber? Blackberries? Vanilla? You really do smell magnificent."
"Thank you," Astrid whispered against Walter's chest. She found herself praying the song would never end, even as she knew it would.
And it was cold and it rained so I felt like an actor
And I thought of Ma and I wanted to get back there.
Your face, your race, the way that you talk
I kiss you, you're beautiful, I want you to walk.
Walter hummed along in Astrid's hair.
"I've never been much of a Bowie fan," Astrid murmured.
"Well, you still have time," Walter said. "Belly and I used to argue about what was his greatest song. I always said it was Starman. I can't actually remember which song Belly favored. Maybe that was a part of my brain he had removed. Either way, I suppose it is long gone." His voice sounded sad. Astrid looked up at him. He was so much taller than she was.
"I think your brain is just perfect the way that it is, Walter," she said. For a long moment they held one another's eyes.
"Thank you, my dear," he said. He looked away. The next song started to play. Something about soul love.
"Could we listen to that one again?" Astrid asked.
"Certainly!" Walter said and broke away from her to lift the arm of the record player and move it back to the previous track. He raised his eyebrows, nodded his head with the music, and smiled. Astrid found herself feeling bereft without his arms around her.
"Could we dance a little longer?" She requested. She opened her arms as he came back to her. "At least that way I can say I sort of went dancing on my Saturday night?"
"Well, I don't see why not," he said and gathered her to him once again. They swayed with the song. "You really do look beautiful tonight, Astrid," Walter said.
She stopped suddenly, and moved so that he was at arm's length from her.
"What did you just say?"
"I simply said that you look lovely tonight, dear."
"No. What did you say? Exactly? What did you call me?"
"I said, you look beautiful tonight, Astrid."
"You called me by my name! My real name!" She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
It wasn't the first time she had shown him such affection. But it was the first time it had felt different. Maybe it was the music. Maybe it was because he was being kind to her when she was lonely and disappointed. Or maybe he really had slipped a tab of something into her milkshake, but for some reason, this little kiss felt different. Her lips lingered for a moment on the skin of his creased cheek.
He was old enough to be her father. He had been committed as criminally insane. He had tried countless times to dose her with acid. He could be curt and rude and he had no problems announcing when he had an erection because he needed to empty his bladder.
None of it mattered.
At that particular moment on that particular Saturday night, none of those details carried any weight with Astrid Farnsworth.
They stopped dancing.
"I wish," he whispered, gazing down into her face, but he didn't complete the thought.
"What? What do you wish?"
"I wish I were a much younger man. And I wish I could bottle the way you smell right now so that I could keep it with me forever.."
"Oh, Walter," Astrid sighed. She was quite certain Brandon would never have said anything so sweet and romantic to her.
A tear trickled down Walter's face and she caught it with her finger, then cupped his face with her palm. She slid her hands to the back of his neck and stood on her tiptoes again so that she could reach his lips with hers, as she pulled him down toward her.
Walter uttered a small moan in the back of his throat as he and Astrid pressed their lips against one another. She pressed a bit harder and then opened her mouth slightly, which caused him to do the same. The heat of their breath mingled. They tasted of strawberries and cream. She ran her fingers through his hair and his hands encircled her waist and pressed her close to him.
And then it was over and they came away from one another, their heads swirling.
"I can think of a million reasons why that should never happen again," Walter said.
"Yeah," Astrid agreed.
"But right at this moment, I do not want to consider any of them. I just want to be awfully glad that it did happen."
"Me too."
"You were in this song," he hummed, quoting Bowie.
"Well, at least now I can say it hasn't been so long since I've been kissed."
"Thank you, my dear."
"You don't need to thank me, Walter."
"All the same," he sighed and squeezed her shoulders. "Oh and also?"
"What?"
"You will probably want to change out of that pretty frock. Or at least put on a lab coat or an apron. We don't want you to get messy."
"Ah. Thanks, Walter. I think I'll do that."
Astrid walked into the back to find a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, her legs wobbly, her head light, her heart melting.