So here's a story that swam around my mind for a few days. I wrote it the best i could for tonight, seeing as my hometown team just won the series! YEAHHHHH born orange and black Giants! Anyway, the story is a little bit solem and i wish with all my heart that the confrontation between them would be like this. so without further adue, here is my tale.

Summmary: Olivia shocks herself, and everyone else.

Warnings: T

Spoilers: Season 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Peter stands behind the glass of the interrogation window staring into the cold steel room. He's wearing his black peacoat, his head hunkered down and hands shoved in his pockets. It's a warm and toasty 75 in the room, but all he feels is cold. He deserves it he guesses, this frosty chill that encompasses his soul and body, for he couldn't tell the difference between the woman that sits handcuff to the steely chair in the room and the woman that will be interrogating her. Both of which, are namely Olivia's.

He hasn't seen her since she's come back from over there. Which is a good thing he figures, because he partly doesn't want to see her in pain and partly because he hasn't had the chance to see her yet. She's kept herself from him and locked away, kind of like the way the other Olivia had been locked away in a cell. Of course he knew where she was the whole time, hell his father had gone to see her in the hospital, but he hadn't. He could bring himself to feel her wrath. So he'll stand on the other side of the glass and watch, watch as the two Olivia's face off.

He wonders how she'll react to seeing her, if she'll fight her or simply interrogate her like any other human. He watches the other Olivia fidget, stretch then stiffen and relax back into her seat like nothing is wrong. But there is this line of worry on her face that he can see. He wishes he can't see it, because he's seen it before in her eyes and it troubles him because it's not her, it's wrong. She's wrong. He rubs his face and looks up to see the door open.

She walks with a limp, a black wooden cane that looked like Charlie's old cane he had used when he was attack by that beast. He limp was slight but noticeable. Her body looked thin, frail, and she appeared to have dropped several pounds since he saw her last. But it wasn't the thin frailness of her or the limp she had for a temporary moment, but it was the wear on her face, the lines that he had never seen before. She hadn't had a chance to dye her hair back yet, so it looks blonde at the roots. She stands across from her double and stares. The other Olivia watches her with a smirk on her lips.

"I see you made it back," Bolivia says, grinning, "Have a nice trip."

Olivia moves and shrugs her shoulders and pulls out the chair and sits.

"A bit rough," she answers her. She moves slowly, stiffly and she places her cane on the table, the initials CF clearly visible to the other Olivia.

"Did you bring back a souvenir?" the other Olivia said, motioning towards the cane.

"No," she says, "It was a gift, from my Charlie."

"Charlie Francis?" she asks incredulously, "You slept with Charlie Francis?"

"No," Olivia answers, "He gave it to me, before he died. He was killed by a shape shifter from your universe."

The other Olivia's eyes widened at her and she remained silent. Olivia didn't give a hint of a smile to her.

"It was strange," she begins, "To see him alive. The hardest thing I've ever done was to shoot my Charlie, because he was from your universe, a shape shifter. So to see him again, different by alive, it was like opening a wound. I'd take him over here if I could."

"But I don't remember much," Olivia continues, "Because I was you. Literally, I was you. I know things about you you've never told anyone. Your mother doesn't even know them. I was filled with your memories-"

"Does it bother you I was you," the other Olivia cuts out, agitated that she had become her. Was she really that dispensable to the Secretary? "Does it bother you that no one was able to tell the difference between us, that with a few lies I was able to be myself and be you?"

"It will always bother me," Olivia says lowly, keeping everything in check, "You have no idea how much it will bother me. But we're different and you were found out-"

"By Ella," she says with smug satisfaction, "I fooled everyone smarter than a six year old."

"Does it bother you that she found you out?" Olivia counters, "Or are you okay with it? How long were you going to be me, until you believed your own lies?" Olivia pauses and lets the questions sink in. She sees a tell in her eyes and nods, "You were becoming me. You wanted my life. You were almost wishing that the treatments were going to work, so that you could live my life and I could live yours. You were trading sides, you were becoming soft-"

"I slept with him," she blurts out, "Your beloved Peter Bishop," she spits. Peter feels his body tighten as she physically recoils from her words, "Yes, I slept with him. And he believed I was you, he was utterly fooled by me the whole time. And it was fun," she sneers. She wants to hit a barb with her alter self, she wants to see her lose her composure and collection and bend under her gaze. She wants to be the hurricane, and this Olivia, Peter's real Olivia, he wants her to be the tree, forced to bend at her winds and force. But Olivia is calm and collected.

"And the best part," the alter Olivia says, "Is that he enjoyed it, too."

There is a heavy silence in the room, and Peter can hear the beating of his heart and the blood in his veins. He wonders what Olivia will do, what she will say. He wants to hear her be upset and scream and yell and be angry with him because he deserves no less. But he doesn't want to see her cry or stay cold. He waits for her to speak, to hear her voice. And she remains silent, as if she's processing the information.

"There's the difference between us," she says oh so softly, "The thing that sets us apart. The whole time I was you, unconsciously you, I never touched him. Frank. There was something wrong in my stomach, something off. I didn't want to touch him. That was it. And every time I saw your Charlie I felt my heart ache. There was so much that was wrong and weird. But that's the difference, I was able to tell it was wrong, to feel that I didn't belong-"

"I belong!" blurts the alter Olivia in anger, "I belonged here, because it was my mission-"

"And you gave up every dignified fiber for your mission-"

"You are not me!" she shouts angrily her fists pulling at the restraints that bind her, "You are nothing like me!"

"I know," Olivia answers calmly, picking up her cane, "Because even after all you've done, after all you've said. Even after all the people you've fooled and lied to or the deaths you've caused here and over there, the difference is this. I forgive you-"

"NO!" Cries Olivia in anger, her whole being shaking, she doesn't want to hear it and Peter can't believe it.

"I've seen your world," Olivia says, standing, "The damage that's been done, the pain you go through every day. I've seen the masks and oxygen zones and the amber zones and the rarity of coffee and avocados and I understand. I understand you now. I understand your motives. You wanted a better world. You thought that by destroying our world from the inside out you could fix everything. But you forgot one thing. You can't do it alone. You alone cannot fix everything. That's your problem. I was like you, I understand. You're full of pride and it was your downfall. It was the reason Ella knew. It's the reason you're upset now-"

"How can you just stand there and not hate me? Hate Peter? How can you be so calm and collected when everyone you loved has betrayed you," she sneers, her smirk returning.

"Because," Olivia says sadly, "It's happened before. Betrayal stings, only for a while. But as for hate, I could never hate anymore. I'm too tired to hate. I've been you. I've seen your world. There's enough hate between our two universes to last to infinity-"

"So hate me!" Olivia angrily shouts, "Hate everything about me! Hate my world for doing this to you! Hate Peter for betraying you! Don't stand there and give me this righteous crap you think you have been entitled too. Deep inside you hate my universe and me. I can feel it. So admit it Olivia," she sneers cockily, "Admit you hate me."

Olivia has moved to the door and reaches for the knob, looking over her shoulder at her double and then over to the window, staring the shocked Peter down in the eyes. He knows she can't see him, but he can feel her gaze, completely filling him whole.

"That's the thing," she whispers, "I'm just too tired to hate anymore."

And she closes the steel door with a light click, walking down the hallway with her slight limp.

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