Author: Ocein
Copyright—not mine. Fringe is a J.J Abrahams, Fox Network production.
Peter/Olivia friendship

"I Can Feel the Distance Getting Close"—Tori Amos

She wasn't herself and when she freaked out at the noise she had the sudden realization that something was amiss about her. Am I seeing images of him again? Someone or something is playing with my thoughts.

So as she found out, motion sensory lights were not a fine invention. She was reaching for an old file in the basement when the motion detector lost its signal on her movement—she had been standing still for the past ten minutes.

Light evaded the room and she could barely make out the silhouette of the filing cabinets in front of her. It was then that she heard the rustle again. Breathing in and then exhaling she abruptly turned around when she heard the noise creep closer. Peter snuck up from behind her and when he started to say "hey" she jostled his arm in a tight grip. Her sudden movement yielded the light motion detector to turn back on. Peter just stood still in incredulity as she composed herself.

"Peter, what are you doing here?" was what escaped her lips first.

"Uh, I've been in the room since you've been in here. You were just so engrossed in whatever file you have there" he said looking at a section of the folder that lay in her other hand.

His frown softened "why are you so jumpy? Are we afraid of the dark sweetheart?" He smirked at his latest witty remark.

She frowned at him and gathered her files that lay scattered across the cold concrete floor.

"No, I'm not afraid of the dark…I just…I was about to break your wrist in half so don't 'sweetheart' me." Her anger and frustration were evident in her countenance and by the way she gathered the files.

What's her problem anyway? Peter raised his eyebrow at her sudden aloof demeanor and stepped back as she exited the room.

Why do I feel like this is becoming a habit? Olivia closed her eyes in exasperation as she entered the lab in search of her keys.

She stared at the contents of the coffee that spilled to the floor in a sudden clumsy moment. Instead of quickly gathering the mess with a towel she watched as the coffee dispersed from the puddle and began to flow through the narrow pathway creases of the floor tiles. She wanted to disengage with the moment but she was transfixed on the scene before her. Her eyes fixated itself as her mind wandered. To think that spilled blood flows in the same direction-- through the grooves and outlines.

"Maybe you sh----" Before Peter could finish his sentence Olivia turned abruptly, for the second time this week, and jostled his arm. Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments but it was enough to read her emotions—turmoil and fear. Before he could conjure up a witty remark, she was on her knees cleaning up the mess with the towel Peter had attempted to give to her while her back was turned from him.

This isn't like me. Frustration elicited for the second time in his presence this week and she stifled the urge to let the sob escape.

Peter sighed when he saw her fight with her emotions. What is going on with this chick? He crouched down aside her and said her name.

"Olivia" he breathed. When she didn't look up he gently but firmly grabbed her wrists. All she could do was steal a glance at him.

His gaze softened again when he read her countenance. He grabbed the towel from her hand and let it drop to the floor as he led her to stand up.

I can't face this right now. It'll be a lot easier if he wasn't here trying to…help me. She turned her gaze to the coffee pot as she fought off another powerful urge to cry.

Peter, sensing the tension in the air, laughed "what? Is it whiskey time yet? There's nothing like getting cocked at nine in the morning. Great way to start a day."

He laughed at his own joke hoping she'd at least a crack a smile. When she didn't and began to do the exact opposite his eyebrows rose. Shit.

Whatever wall had been holding her emotions captive had broke at Peter's attempt to make her smile. It started with a tear and rushed to a countless number that cascaded down her cheeks and the tip of her nose. She hung her head and just leaned in. Before Peter could assess the situation he closed the gap between them. He pressed his chin to the top of her sobbing head and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair. "I was just trying to make you laugh. You just seemed tense lately."

The last part of his speech made her choke on more tears. Peter silently cursed himself and tightened the hold on her.

Maybe you should just be silent…stupid. He just held and comforted her until she stopped quietly crying. What he thought was her attempt to look up and meet his gaze was a quick dart upward in the general direction of his face. She silently mumbled "sorry", backed away, wiped her yes, and turned toward the door.

"Olivia, wait." Peter was dumbfounded but was smart enough to catch something before it turned into a catastrophe.

She cursed under her breath and turned towards him, her eyes puffy. Her voice changed back to its stern serious tone when she spoke. "I'm sorry Peter; I shouldn't have taken advantage of you."

He let a laugh of amusement and anger escape his lips. "Advantage of me? I'm a friend, not a cheap date." After the last failed attempts he didn't expect her to chuckle. He was surprised when she did.

She stepped closer to him once more. She looked into his eyes which read confusion and something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Thank you for being a friend," and with that she grabbed his hand briefly before turning back towards the door.

I can't understand this girl. She puts up a Great Wall of China yet lets me through when I least expect it. He just stares at her as she exits the room, the clacking of her heels still echoing in the desolate lab.

I had no intention of expanding this into a larger fic, but I could. Any reviews, rants, or raves?