Disclaimer: I do not own Fringe or its characters; they belong to J. J. Abrams & Co.

Note: This is a Missing Scene; hence the beginning dialogue may seem a bit familiar. ;P

*Gift fic for agntdunham! Enjoy!

.::CHINESE COWS::.

~obsidian~

"…at least five anonymous blood samples from volunteer donors, a microorganism detector, massive-grade corsistonasees – oh, she's still here! (oh, this tank was the best!) – oh, and a two year bos Taurus." Walter ended his list of needs by tugging at the tarp covering his beloved and aforementioned tank.

Astrid's hand froze millimeters from the pad she had been furiously scribbling upon. "A what?"

Peter couldn't believed it. "A cow." He smirked at the ludicrousness of it all as Astrid moved to help Walter. "He wants a cow."

Walter gave a brief smile of thanks to Astrid for her help in removing the tarp, but carried on heedless of the interruptions. "Purebred, not crossbred," he stressed. "This is very important. Mature week, 850 pounds… eternal path average 2.37!"

A pause. "…Is he joking?" Olivia really could not tell.

Peter stepped up to explain. "Genetically, humans and cows are separated by only a couple lines of DNA – so it's a test subject."

"Where'd you learn that? MIT?" she teased.

"No, actually," came the sarcastic reply. "I picked that up reading books. You should try it sometime, it's fun."

Another pause, as Olivia internally mulled over a decision. She turned to Astrid, with a resigned yet determined look on her face. "Get him the cow."

"Thank you!" Walter beamed – he looked like Christmas had just arrived. Walking up the stairs to the level Peter and Olivia were at, he commented: "The only thing better than a cow is a human! Unless you need milk," he added thoughtfully, "then you really need a cow." And with that enigmatic remark, Walter turned his attention to calibrating an old spectrochromatography machine.

It was now several hours later. Astrid and Olivia had managed to make the lab somewhat habitable by sweeping and dusting. The "standard forensics package" arrived afterwards; Peter and Astrid made the executive decisions on the placement of the equipment. Walter's requested cow made an arrival during this chaos, and he spent a long time examining 'the specimen' and interrogating its 'handler' on the upbringing of the cow.

Finally, everything was in place: all supplies and equipment had arrived. Walter had set up the initial stages of the drugs he would administer to Olivia, and John Scott was set inside of a special stretcher. All they had to do was sit and wait.

There was a knock at the door. Astrid scurried over to it, yelling out: "Oh, that must be the takeout!" She returned shortly, carrying two plastic bags laddened with cheap – but deliciously aromatic – Chinese food. She set the bags down on a table with a huff of accomplishment. "Well, dig in, guys."

Walter eagerly turned to the new food. "Ah, thank you, Astyr."

The woman in question looked at him quizzically over the latest version of her name; however, it was Peter who spoke up, massaging his forehead in an attempt to not let his frustration get the better of him. "Walter! For the twelfth time, her name is Astrid."

Olivia simply shook her head in amusement at their antics, and quietly thanked Astrid for the much-needed food.

Astrid, still unsure of how to react towards her new superior, smiled with a hesitant but bright smile. "No problem." She dug immediately into the bag for the Low Mein, however, claiming it as hers.

Olivia read off the contents as she sorted through them. "Well, there's more Low Mein, some Shrimp Fried Rice, Wonton Soup, Crab Rangoon –"

"Oh, gimme some of that Rangoon." Peter held out his hand to grab his desired choice from Olivia. She ended up settling with some Sweet and Sour Chicken. Walter thoroughly examined the contents of each blank, white, and unidentifiable box with deep sniffs, finally choosing a dish of fried vegetables.

They all sat on unopened boxes in a half-circle, the cow in its stall a dozen feet away. At first everyone dug in enthusiastically, ravenous from the effort it took in making the lab decent. Once their stomachs realized that they were getting food, they slowed down and a quiet silence descended upon the four.

Walter was thinking about all the necessary steps and preparations he had yet to do for the synaptic transfer. Peter was thinking about how he had even allowed himself to get dragged into this whole mess – and with the FBI, no less. Olivia was thinking about what she was risking, what she was trying to accomplish by entering this endeavor with only the knowledge and expertise of a brilliant man locked in a mental institution for seventeen years.

Astrid, meanwhile, was thinking about how everyone else looked gloomy and depressed. She also found it amusing that they had a cow in the laboratory. Slowly, a plan came to mind. She placed her chopsticks upright into the container of Low Mein, ignoring the fact that it was considered terribly rude in most Asian countries.

"Hey guys, what do you think we should name the cow?"

Peter stared at her, baffled. "Why would we name the cow? It's not a pet."

Walter interjected with a memory. "You used to have a small puppy as a child," he stated with nostalgia. "Named it Gills, if I recall."

"No," Peter replied with irritation. "That was the goldfish, Walter. It lasted three days. There was no puppy – mom was allergic to dogs." Seeing his father's pensive expression, Peter brushed it off with a frustrated "whatever".

Astrid was determined. She may be a bit intimidated in the presence of a fully-trained Field Agent with dozens of years of experience, a bit nervous of targeting Peter's seemingly-quick wrath for his father onto her, and a bit… concerned, about Walter, sometimes… but she would not let them sink into a funk. They needed to be confidant and determined if this was all going to work out.

"I really think we should name the cow. It's a living being, and we should treat it as such."

Peter gave up. "Fine. What are we calling it, then? Bertha?"

Astrid frowned. "You make her sound like an old lady! We need something better than that!"

Olivia watched the proceedings with amusement.

"What about bos Taurus?" Walter suggested with his eagerly-stilted speech.

"We are not calling it 'cow' in Latin," Peter instantly refuted.

"Hm…" Astrid placed her fist against her chin, one finger cocked up, in the classical 'pondering pose'. "What about Idun?"

"Idun?" Olivia questioned.

"Oh. She was the Norse Goddess of Spring. Idun guarded the apples of youth that kept the Norse Gods young – this is where the archetype of magical apples came from – and she heavily associated with fertility. Many ancient mythologies associate cows or rams with fertility, and so I thought…" Astrid trailed off at the stares given to her. "What? I really like mythology!" she defended.

"Because Edom is obviously better than Bertha," Peter sarcastically replied.

"Idum," Astrid corrected. "And I think it could work," she said in her slightly-unsure tone.

" 'Eh-dune', whatever."

"Oh! Oh!" Walter cried out in a eureka moment. His hands twitched, he has so excited that it was hard for him to speak. He continued in an eager whisper. "We should name it butterscotch!"

Peter immediately shut him down with mock-incredulity (because really, one should never be surprised at what come out of that old man's mouth). "We are not naming a cow after a drink you've been ridiculously obsessed with recently!" The end of the sentence was said so rapidly that it almost became squashed into one word.

Olivia smiled at the dynamics between the three. "What about Gene?" she finally offered.

"Genies?" Astrid was puzzled – she didn't understand what allusion there was.

"No, Gene. As in DNA?"

Everyone gave a collective "ah" of appreciation as they understood.

Olivia turned to Peter. "You did say that humans and cows were only separated by a couple of genes, right? And that's the reason why we got the cow?"

Walter gave a toothy grin. "Agent Dunham, that is absolute genius!"
She gave a small smile in response.

"Gene…" Astrid mulled, sounding it out. She looked over at the cow in question, who mooed in response. As unofficial, self-appointed name-decided (she had started the topic, after all), Astrid decided. "Gene it is! …It's a cute name," she added almost confidentially, still not looking away from the cow but digging into her Low Mein with renewed enthusiasm.

"So I don't even get a say in this anymore?" It was more of a statement than a question, but Peter's response was colored with defeated resignation.

Hearing the tone, Olivia replied, "Yup!"

Later…

"Is that a cow?" Charlie asked apprehensively, knowing he would regret the answer as soon as he asked it.

"Oh, that's Gene!" Olivia replied with delight.