Title: Living Alone

Author: SamSpade

Rating: T

Summary: Following 4x06 "And Those We've Left Behind," Peter calls Olivia back to the house.

A/N: This is all I've wrote thus far – if there's interest I may continue it (and then it would likely be rated M). If not, consider it a one-shot. Feedback is greatly appreciated, including what you'd like to see happen. Thanks for reading!

Peter watched as Olivia left the house. He picked up the airplane sitting on the table and held it up in the air. He had a brief memory of his childhood – his mother buying him that plane. He was certain it was his mother from over here. He sighed heavily placing it back on the table. How could it be here if he never survived the frozen lake? Of course he survived, somehow. He existed right now. Why couldn't they remember him?

It would be easier to believe he was stuck in the wrong timeline, that he didn't belong here and she wasn't his Olivia. The sad truth was, staring at her, he knew it was Olivia. It had to be her. It wasn't the blonde hair or the green eyes but the look in her eyes, the deep sadness was something he'd seen before. Something when they'd first met. When she hadn't completely trusted him but needed him to help her. Now though, it was different. The tables had turned. He needed her. He needed her more than he realized.

He would have to be more careful, more subtle. He knew he'd been staring. It was hard not to stare at the woman he loved, even if she didn't know who he was. Besides it was even harder to grasp the fact she was having dreams of him! What did that mean? That he was in fact in the right place? Was the universe trying to correct itself? He glanced again at the toy airplane, maybe in time it would. He wasn't sure he could wait that long.

He worked silently at removing the sheets covering the furniture and glanced out the window of the front seeing the agent standing guard. Did they really think he would leave? At least they weren't keeping him another day in lockup at Fringe Division. He'd been thinking about escaping but again – where would he go?

He felt his stomach grumble and sighed as he walked into the kitchen. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find. The cabinets were empty and the fridge when he opened it smelled rancid. He quickly shut it. He would need to go shopping. Peter sighed as he walked towards the house phone. Surprised it was working he dialed the familiar cell phone number of Agent Dunham. He smiled when he heard her voice knowing that even across universes and time displacement some things would always be the same.

"Dunham." She answered the call.

"Hey Olivia, it's me - Peter." He shook his head realizing she wouldn't know who it was. "I need a favor."

Olivia raised a curious eye. "Can it wait until morning?" She asked glancing around her living room. She'd just slipped out of her shoes and was walking towards her bedroom wanting to undress and get comfortable.

"I don't have any food in the house – well nothing edible and seeing as how I don't have that stipend yet and no money, I could use dinner."

There was silence for several long moments on the phone. "Okay. Give me twenty minutes. I'll bring take out." Olivia offered. "Just - stay put."

"Will do boss," he smiled hanging up the phone. Maybe she wasn't the same – but she was still Olivia. She was certainly more of the Olivia he knew than the red-headed version he'd met.

He finished pulling the sheets down, tossing them into the laundry room. Thankfully there was detergent left behind and he ran a load of laundry. Next he headed into the kitchen, clearing the counter, wiping it down and trying to make it presentable for them both to eat on. Just as he was finishing he heard the door.

"Just a sec!" He called heading towards the front of the house. He pulled open the door, smiling as he saw her carrying a bag of takeout. "Come on in," he gestured stepping aside.

"Thanks," she nodded slipping out of her shoes and glancing around. "You've done a good job in here," she noted seeing the furniture again.

Peter's stomach grumbled and he laughed awkwardly, "thanks for bringing dinner." He nodded towards the fridge, "there's stuff growing in there."

Olivia made a face as she removed the cartons from the bag. "I wasn't sure what you wanted so I got a few things."

"Anything's fine," he shrugged trying his best not to be difficult.

"Thanks again for coming back over here."

"You know," she paused glancing at him as she reached for the chopsticks, "you could have just asked the agent at the door for twenty bucks to buy dinner."

Peter smiled, "I guess I could have but I wouldn't have had company."

She caught sight of his smile and it made her stomach somersault. "I'm not her," Olivia reminded him, shaking her head. "If you're thinking you can charm me into dinner and then bed it's not going to happen."

Peter could see the defense she'd put up around herself. "I promise my intentions are nothing of the sort. Just a good meal. The company is an added bonus. Nothing else." He held up his hands in surrender. "I promise, Olivia. Besides you're the one with the gun."

"Okay." She nodded slowly pushing a set of chopsticks towards him. "Tomorrow I'll talk with Broyles about getting you an advance on some money so you can have groceries and necessities." She imagined he didn't have any clothes except for the ones the FBI had already provided him.

"Thanks." He nodded. "Also if you wouldn't mind – I know where Walter parked his car before he went into St. Claire's."

"You're kidding." She raised a curious eye, taking a bite of dinner.

Peter shook his head, "well the Walter I know – we did all this before, moved in, needed a car. It's different but – like déjà vu." He laughed. "It doesn't matter. What matters is I'll need a car and I know where one is at."

"I'll have to talk to Broyles first. If you have a car – then you could leave. It would be difficult for us to keep an agent with you at all times."

Peter smiled having a bite of his dinner. "You're really that worried I'll skip town?"

"I'm not worried," Olivia shook her head. At this point she didn't care either way or at least wasn't going to admit to caring, "Broyles though, if you know him like I do, he needs to make sure you're not going to the press with what you know. Or worse."

"I wouldn't sell what I know. I wouldn't tell anyone. No one would believe it anyhow." He laughed. Peter took another bite of dinner. "Any chance you brought something to drink it down with?"

"Oh yes!" She finally smiled, pulling out a whiskey bottle. "Almost forgot."

Peter's face lit up in a real smile matching Olivia's. It had been awhile since he felt his heart leap. "You drink?"

"Of course," Olivia laughed under her breath. "Don't tell me you don't?"

"No, I do." He smiled standing up. "I'll grab two glasses," Peter offered as he headed to the cabinet. He grabbed two glasses, rinsing the dust off them before bringing them over to the counter. He watched as Olivia opened the bottle and poured them both a small amount.

Olivia raised her glass about to bring it to her lips when she heard Peter interrupt her.

"To uncovering the truth," Peter raised his glass watching her expression as she nodded and clanked them together.

"Yes, to the truth." She nodded, "and to you finding your way home."

"I'll drink to that," he breathed swallowing the liquid in one gulp.

Olivia watched him curiously as he poured himself another glass. "I'm not mopping you up off the floor later."

"Don't worry, I can hold my liquor," he acknowledged before having another bite of dinner. "This is so much better than interrogation room food."

She smiled down at her meal, shaking her head. "I'm sorry about that. The way you were treated – you have to understand though, you're an anomaly. You're not supposed to exist and you do. You're here. It's going to take awhile for people to trust you."

"I know that. I get it, Olivia." Peter tried not to sound short but why couldn't she see this from his point of view? Why couldn't they accept what he was telling was fact?

"Do you?" She asked cautiously.

"Every day I'm here I'm reminded of the fact that I'm not supposed to exist. I see it in his eyes and in yours." He stared at her, feeling his heart race. "I wasn't just good friends with the other Olivia – she was the love of my life. She eventually became my wife and the only way to try and save her, to save our world was to go back to the day that I destroyed our world."

"What are you talking about?" Olivia shook her head confused.

Peter glanced down at the food, it was easier than staring at the woman he loved that didn't know him. "She died – Walternate murdered her."

Olivia swallowed the lump in her throat. "Your father?"

Peter nodded slowly, "he may be my biological father but that's as far as our ties go. He tried to use me to destroy your world and I couldn't do it. So instead he started the machine over there. I don't know how he managed to do that without me but he did." Peter felt as though he were rambling. "I can't explain every detail but eventually their world died and our world was dying. He wanted revenge. So he got his revenge. My father, Walter, he and the first people created the machine. I was meant to travel back and change things—well my consciousness. We couldn't have known the repercussions. Even if I did – it meant saving you, I would do it again."

"You mean saving her." Olivia quietly corrected him.

Peter nodded slowly. "Yeah, her." He wasn't entirely convinced this Olivia wasn't his Olivia. Certainly she was different but she was more like the Olivia he knew than any other version he'd met. He tried not to stare at her, knowing it must have made her uncomfortable but it was hard not to. She meant so much to him and he had to pretend she meant nothing.

"I think I get it. At least a little more than before," Olivia admitted. "I'd been wondering why you were still here. Why you hadn't asked to go home – over there. Maybe you explained it all to Broyles but I - I didn't know."

"Walternate, he's not my biggest fan." Peter muttered.

"No kidding," Olivia sighed, "mine either. He kidnapped me last year." Olivia admitted. She wasn't sure why she felt compelled to tell him—this stranger something so intimate but she trusted him. It was something she didn't feel comfortable telling anyone.

"The other Olivia – she came here, infiltrated the team?" Peter guessed. He was surprised that much of what happened had still happened –with or without him, some things didn't change.

Olivia nodded slowly. "She did that in your timeline too?"

"Yeah she convinced me she was her, you, the other her," he laughed softly rubbing a hand through his hair. "Confusing much?"

"For anyone else, yes, I get it though." Olivia offered with a faint smile having another bite of dinner. "Tell me more about what happened." Olivia asked quietly digging into her meal.

Peter laughed, "it's a long story and somehow I doubt they're the same but she pretended to be someone that she wasn't and in the interim the blonde Olivia that I had fallen in love with, she was being held prisoner. Walternate had found out she was capable of crossing between universes and wanted to figure out how that was possible. Before she managed to escape, they had nearly cut out her brain to study it."

"Whoa!" Olivia held up her hand gesturing towards the food, "I'm eating." She made a disgusted face, "no wonder you don't want to go back over there." Olivia definitely was understanding the bitterness and anger Peter had towards his biological father. She finished the last of her dinner watching as Peter was only half done. She suspected he was taking his time but didn't say anything.

Peter smiled having some more scotch as he sat back at the counter. "So is there any chance you're going to tell me about the dreams you were having?" He'd shared his from that day, he was still wondering if hers were the same.

Olivia felt a slight blush cover her cheeks. She glanced down at the table, "no, no I don't think that's a good idea." She stood up, clearing the table.

"I can't seem to figure it out." He admitted having another bite from the carton of Chinese. "You and Walter – how you could be dreaming of someone that didn't exist, that you'd never met."

Olivia shrugged as she tossed her empty carton and chopsticks into the trash. "I certainly can't explain it. Usually that's Walter's territory."

Peter sighed "and Walter refuses to so much as look at me, let alone help."

Olivia walked back towards the table, sitting back down. "You just need to give him more time. Things haven't been easy for him, Peter. Since leaving St. Claire's he's had a difficult time readjusting to the world around him. He only feels safe in the lab. After seeing your reflection repeatedly, he thought he was going crazy and would have to return to St. Claire's. To make matters worse he tried to lobotomize himself a few weeks ago."

Peter put the chopsticks back down on the table, losing the last of his appetite. "He was okay though?"

Olivia shrugged, "he's Walter. I didn't send him back to St. Claire's, if that's what you mean. Yes, he'll be fine. It's been difficult on him and seeing you in the flesh – has scared him even further. You should be a ghost but you're not."

Peter stared at her. "Ghosts don't age, Olivia."

"Even so," she shrugged, "you're - "

"I'm what?" He asked curiously, hanging onto her every word.

She felt her voice catch in her throat, reaching for the bottle of scotch pouring herself a second drink. "You're different." Olivia swallowed the last of her second glass standing up. "I should go." She smiled weakly. "I'm sure you have more cleaning up to do and we have an early morning tomorrow."

"Olivia."

"Yeah?" She sighed softly staring at him. He was definitely cute. She could see how easily it would be to fall for someone like him.

"You still owe me an explanation on the dreams."

Olivia tried her best not to smile. "As soon as you give me an explanation as to why you were in them. Goodnight, Peter." She answered heading for the door.

He stood up and followed her into the hallway. "Goodnight, Olivia. I'll see you tomorrow."