A/N - inspired while listening the Shiver by Maximo Park. This is a little dark, which seems to be my feeling as of late. Dont worry I'm still working on Haemoglobin, I jsut got this stuck in my head. I'm trying to make Haemoglobin as good as I can for all the wonderful people who have reviewed so that the wait will be worth it. Okay then, enjoy.

Shiver

-

"Cause I shiver,
I just break up,
When I'm near you."

- Maximo Park, Shiver

-

It smelt like paint thinner and antiseptic. It burnt at his nostrils, scorching his mouth and causing bile to build up in his throat. His chest constricted suddenly as his brain created and spat out images of her strapped down somewhere in this godforsaken edifice with only the smell to keep her company. He swallowed thickly as he considered what he should say and what he should do; all of the possible scenarios filled his mind, good and bad. Privately he thanked whatever God there was that Charlie had bullied him into coming with him because he knew there would have been no way he could have pulled this off alone. The place he was in was derelict and dusty, tarpaulin sheets hung from the scaffolding that held up one side of the building; damp and mould had accumulated in the corners of the large cement floor, and scraps of unused metal lay scattered at odd angles. The briefcase in his hand felt startlingly heavy, like he was holding a mattress instead of a leather case filled with a million dollars.

Not for the first time, Peter wondered how he had become so attached to the blonde agent in such a short period of time. A year ago he had been securing deals with Iraqi oil lords on piping lines; and now he was gearing up to pay off a flesh peddler hired by a mob boss, much to the conflicted Charlie's disbelief. He checked his watch, ignoring how tight his tie was beginning to feel. They were late. That did not exactly exude 'sunshine-and-daisies' to him.

"Mr. King, you came." It was a statement and the tone with which it was uttered lifted at the end, making it seem like a question. Clearly the man in a similar suit, only Peter's was all black, who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere had not cottoned on to Peter's real identity. Peter tilted his head in the mans direction in a sign of greeting and lifted the briefcase a fraction before letting his arm go limp once more.

"Of course. My people are very… invested in acquiring this piece of the collection," Peter said in a haunting voice, making Charlie – who stood twenty yards from him, concealed by a solid blue piece of tarpaulin – wonder if he hadn't done this before. The man smirked crookedly and clicked his fingers. Two very large and very intimidating men entered behind the 'Speaker', as he had been dubbed by the media, with a familiar blonde in between them; the bigger one, Beefy as Peter nicknamed him in his head, had one meaty fist on her shoulder while the other one on the opposite side, Tattoos, clasped her torn and bloodied shirt with two hands. They walked until they were level with the Speaker and then stopped abruptly, causing her to stumble a little. Her eyes widened when they landed on Peter but she squashed it quickly and did not make any other indication that she knew who he was.

"I see. Well, would you like to inspect the merchandise or will face value be enough?" Peter nearly flinched at the sound of this man calling his Olivia 'merchandise' but stopped himself just in time. He had to keep it together: the aim was to get Olivia back in one piece and those bastards in a six by four prison cell. He smirked coldly and cocked his head, beckoning with two fingers. The Speaker nodded and jerked his head at the two henchmen. Beefy and Tattoos dragged Olivia to stand in front of Peter who was fighting with himself to not draw the gun tucked in the waistband of his suit pants. She looked at him then, meeting his eyes while he pretended to look her up and down. Her face was contorted in a look of pure contempt but her eyes filled with relief at the sight of him.

Setting the briefcase down behind him he raised a hand and ran it down her forearm, stopping to grab her wrist as lightly as he dared. He tugged ever so slightly so that she was out of the henchmen's grip and inspected her thoroughly for bruises, cuts and any other sign of damage, all the while making it appear that he was checking for something completely different to his companions. He raised a hand to her chin and yanked it to the left, looking closely at the large yellowing bruise that was setting in across her once flawless cheek. He clenched his jaw so hard he heard his teeth grind. The Speaker, as well as Tattoos and Beefy, picked up on the sudden shift. Peter noticed and carefully covered his tracks.

"I was told that she would be in pristine condition. What exactly do you think my… client can do with her?" He did not break the stare with the other man, focusing all his energy into not going Neanderthal and throwing her over his shoulder and marching out of there right then. The Speaker looked surprised and then suddenly apologetic. Clearly he was eager to get rid of her; Peter silently chuckled to himself – she had been causing obvious trouble for him. If he was honest with himself, he felt incredibly proud that she had not given in to the Speaker.

"We had some difficulties. And bruises can heal," he spoke fast, his features looking desperate. Peter's reply was quick and razor sharp, his voice dangerous and filled with meaning.

"Quickly?" The word caused all of those present, with the exception of Peter and Olivia, to flinch. The Speaker smiled tightly and began to look reproachful.

"Perhaps we can work out a deal. How about you take the girl and I'll knock off ten percent?" Bile and acid rose in his throat once more as he began to compare buying Olivia from this man to buying a vacuum. Beating back the rage that bubbled under his skin, Peter hummed under his breath as if he was considering the offer the Speaker had just made. He looked Olivia over once more, taking in every tiny detail, and nodded.

"Very well. But if this ever happens again, you can find yourself a new line of work. I hear KFC are hiring." Peter clicked his fingers and Charlie took that as his cue. The Speaker raised his eyebrows at the sudden presence of this seeming random man out of nowhere but Peter remained unfazed. "What? You can have mysterious click obeying henchmen and I can't? Little double standard of you, don't you think?" He said as he handed over the briefcase, considerable lighter than it was a moment ago. The other man chuckled lightly after nodding and gesturing to the bodyguards. At this point Charlie grabbed Olivia's arm roughly and held her still next to Peter, both waiting until the other shady characters had left. Once Peter heard the click of the back doors being shut, he dropped the extra cash in his hand and swiftly scooped her up in his arms.

She clung to his clothes, to his hair, to any solid part of him that she could. His arm curled around her knees and he lifted her 'bride-style' in order to carry her easily through the steel double doors. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she leaned her head in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply in order to smell the scent of his cologne. He planted a light kiss on her forehead, mindful of her bruises and a lengthy cut. Charlie opened the doors for him and they both half-ran, half-jogged towards the armored BMW; Peter climbed in the back with Olivia still wrapped around him while Charlie fired up the car and sped out of the deserted parking lot. Peter breathed as deeply as he could, desperate to rid his mouth and nose of the stench of the warehouse.