A/N: So... My first Fringe story. I just started watching it about two months ago, and I completely fell in love with it and watched all of the episodes in about one week. Obsessed, I know. So, I don't really know where this fits in with the storyline and Alter!Olivia and Walternate and all, but I imagined somewhere later on in season 2, before all of the mess, see what you think fits. This was partially beta-ed by the awesome SheWillBeLoved013 (I added some lines and couldn't wait to put it up, so if some scentences strike you as odd, blame me).
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Fringe and its hotness. Or Peter's.
Olivia Dunham felt completely carefree.
She was laying on the soft green grass, feeling the comfortable warmth of the summer sun creep over her, slowly lulling her into sweet oblivion. A tiny breeze passed by, lifting long strands of blonde hair and carrying them with the wind, tickling her nose. She wiggled it, pushing the lock out of her face. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear water running and lapping upon the rocks in the creek without a care in the world. Its sound was almost like music, mixed with the singing of birds in the trees around them. So peaceful, almost too peaceful, but today, Olivia had promised herself, she wouldn't think about it. Today, she was going to do what she wanted to. And so far, it felt good.
She opened her eyes, and was rewarded with the most beautiful sight before her; blue lapis lazuli shining with pure contentment. They were a color she'd come to love, the color of the brightest ocean stretching out for miles and reflecting the sun with its entire splendor.
Those eyes were trained upon her, studying her with that look a look of slight wonder. Suddenly, she became very self-conscious. She tried to turn away from his inquiring eyes, but he placed his hand on her cheek, effectively stopping her from moving away.
"Can't I just look at you for a while? You're beautiful." He murmured lazily, yet with a serious undertone.
Olivia blushed, but didn't turn around. The statement had shocked her a bit. Never had he told her she looked beautiful, at least not in this many words. But, the day was too nice and the feeling she had was too good to ruin it by over-thinking every word he'd said, so she let it slide.
"Good." He said when she moved back next to him. "I told you this place was nice, didn't I?"
She nodded. He had been right, this spot was beautiful and it felt very good to just get away from her crowded and stressful life for a while. But then again, she shouldn't be surprised. Somehow, Peter always knew how to make her feel better.
She tilted her head and stared up to the sky with squinting eyes; the sun was at its highest and almost blinding. The sky was perfectly blue with a few clouds of contrasting white, looking like creamy drops of milk in azure blue water. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Peter looking up as well, forming little creases by his eyes when he too had to squint against the triumphantly shining sun.
"That one looks kind of like a dog, don't you think?" Peter said, interrupting her thinking and pointing to an interestingly shaped cloud drifting by.
"I'm not so sure; it looks more like a cloud to me." She said with a little snicker. Peter shook his head, a playful smile adorning his features, and said:
"Use your imagination. Live a little, Olivia." Sighting, she caved and looked at the next cloud coming their way.
"I think it looks like a…" She cocked her head a little, studying the cloud like she would a crime scene. "Tree. A big oak tree, like the one that used to be right in front of my window." She paused, staring at Peter without really seeing him. "It was so enormous I imagined it had a village of small people living in it. Rachel and I used to tell each other stories about them, making up whole families and all. I loved that tree." She smiled dreamily, momentarily lost in a rare happy childhood memory. Peter couldn't help but grin too, enjoying the sight before him.
She shook her head a little, clearing her mind of the old memories, and looked at him. "Your turn."
"Alright. I see… A bus." At seeing her skeptical look, he explained further: "You know, one of those red double-decker busses they have in the UK."
"Right." She said sarcastically, seeing no such thing in the cloud above them.
"What, you don't see it? It's obvious! Right next to the one that looks like a frog."
She chuckled, amused by the things he saw in simple clouds. He might be very cynical and often sarcastic; he still had a lot of imagination. Peter pointed out a few more things above them, each object more far-fetched than the other, and finally, after trying in vain to convince her that there was truly a flying pig pictured in the cloud hovering over them, he gave up and rested back onto the grass with his eyes closed.
Still with a slight smile on her face, she too closed her eyes, thinking only about the nice warmth of the golden sunrays hitting her face and the sound of a hummingbird floating in the air, waving its wings erratically just to keep flying. It felt almost too good to be true, so impossibly perfect, like a dream she didn't want to end. And maybe it was a dream, and maybe it would end, and maybe she'd wake up in a minute, disoriented and alone in her lonely bed, wanting to go back but feeling the memories slip away already...
Then she decided something. If this was a dream, if this defining moment of perfection in her life was all just a figment of her imagination, it would end the way she wanted it to. Why hold herself back when it wasn't even real? So, she tilted her head and placed a soft kiss on Peter's completely surprised lips. It was just a small kiss, barely a brush of lips and completely ridiculous. But then Peter moved his hand behind her back, pushing her against him and kissing her properly. With his touch, she felt all the worry and stress she'd had slip away, and felt free. She felt so real, so alive, and felt his lips on hers and then his hand gripping hers and her head resting on his chest, and she couldn't help but ask:
"Is this a dream?"
And Peter laughed. It was a melodic sound, like the piano he played so skillfully and the wind that was gushing through the trees, ruffling the leaves and stirring up the nests of the young summer birds ready for their first flight. He answered with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips:
"Only if you believe it is."
A/N: So? I'd love to hear your thoughts, I don't know if I'm any good at Fringe fics...