FRINGE

CAMBRIDGE

No inFRINGEment intended. I'm merely borrowing the characters and I shall put them back in their box when I'm finished.

Note: missing scene -- mild spoilers for 'Safe' [110] – just a fluff ;)

-o-

She hung up her phone and turned her attention back to Peter. Was drinking the real challenge or was he trying a new approach at this bonding thing he was so adamant about this very morning?

Well, she could hold her liquor; it pretty much came with the territory with the 'boys'. She nodded and picked a table in the middle of the bar and sat down. Peter glanced at her from the bar, still puzzled by her previous attitude. She was blowing cold and hot at the same time and he could not figure out where exactly he was standing on her moody personal radar, probably high enough, since she was facing him with a smile.

"Just keep them coming man," he said with a wink to the bartender. "We're gonna be here for a while."

He took their drinks to the table and for a moment, they drank in silence. He knew that he had to ask her. Nobody can live without friends, let alone without a best friend. And he was only having his –and her, for that matter, best interests at heart. That was bad enough she had no friend, she seemed to be unable to keep hold of the pretty obvious candidates.

"So… you were with the Marines?" he prompted. Lots of possible bonding in the Army, that was part of the equation when you have to trust your friend with your life.

"I… yes, I think I was," she hesitated.

"What was… that?" So that was her strategy towards him that she could not make heads or tails which memories were her own? He did not expect Walter's tank experiment to get in the way of his usual routine. That was only a minor setback.

"I'm sure I was in the military Peter. What part of those memories is actually John's…" she said with a frown. He was getting impatient, probably on account of her phone call, and of the proverbial one hour Broyles deadline. It brought an even broader smile on her face. Lots can happen in sixty minutes. She was glad he acted so spontaneously upon her invitation to tag along to Cambridge and that he was actually trying to make her part of his life, --until he eventually puts on his disappearing act, she pondered. She shrugged and gulped her glass gesturing to the bartender for a refill. So far, she had only displayed a poor attempt at keeping their relation strictly professional when she knew all along that she liked him. Not at first really, when she was so obviously enthralled in her quest to save the day, and John. And the wait was probably a mistake now that Walter had really messed up with her head. Twice.

"I see. May I ask you something else?"

"Shoot…"

"What was it with the brother and sister team? Is this flirtatious banter with Drew part of your interrogation techniques the ones where answers can only be obtained with the bail of a sibling?"

"Told you. It's easier that way."

"Why? Come on, never heard of that one before. I can understand, in certain circumstances, the bad cop good cop routine --minus the bad cop. Look, to cut to the chase, you weren't exactly grilling the man, Han. What are you afraid of? That you could actually like me? "

She smiled, --a sad smile and make a show at fidgeting with her glass.

"To pretend I'm not your friend, really, what purpose does it serve?" he insisted, placing his hand on hers. "Why do you feel threatened?"

She locked her eyes on Peter's.

"You should not," she swapped her hand away from his. "He can see us," she added with a nod to the bartender.

Another lame excuse. What was it with her? She never made any attempt at getting close to him but at least, until now, she was being honest.

"A guy can comfort his sister, for crying out loud, and your friend Drew doesn't give a shit whether brother Rick is holding his sister's hand. God, what's wrong with you, Dunham? Why are you so afraid of human contacts?"

"It was not flirtatious," she said with a blank stare. "I was trying to make a connection with him to retrieve valuable intel and it ultimately worked."

"Listen Dunham. I'm not questioning your talents here. Yes, you got the intel but what does it tell about us?"

"About us? Sorry, what does it have to do with anything? There is no 'us'. I… --"

"Don't do that Liv', at this point, if not anything, you must know I'm your friend," he said, keeping his voice down, leaning to her over the table.

She nodded awkwardly. Her mouth twitched and she gave him an uncertain glance.

"Yes, I know…" she finally said.

"And here it is, as always the ever present 'but'."

"Peter, it's difficult for me, see. There's nothing personal."

"Personal? Great choice of word, Dunham, you must know that if you want to make friends, you have to make it personal! Unless you don't really want to have friends, that's sort of the core of the notion."

"Sorry, it did not come out as I intended… I mean that's not what I wanted to say. Well, I guess what I mean is that I'm a woman…"

"Thanks for stating the obvious, Han."

"… and you know how difficult it is for a woman to have her place in a male working environment."

"Okay. If one thing Dunham, you're not afraid of clichés. You're not this fragile damsel in distress you're trying to paint all over you today. I damn know you're not. And it's me you're talking to, here. Peter, remember? Not some drooling colleague of yours at the Bureau. Not to mention that you practically dragged me over here!"

"Yes, you're right. And I'm glad you came. It's a much needed breath of fresh air."

"At last!" he grinned.

"But."

"Oh yes. That 'but'."

"It's bad enough that your father considers me as your girlfriend…"

"You know he doesn't!" he protested loudly before continuing in a whisper when she gave him the stern look. "No he doesn't. Does he?"

Why was he feeling disturbed now? He was just trying to get closer to her and somehow she had managed to turn his boyish offer into a complicated matter.

"You mean his crack about empty encounters?" he asked.

"No, you're right. He probably just thinks that we have an arrangement."

"I'm not sure that I'm following you Dunham."

"Fringe benefits? Bed buddies? Office shag? Casual nookie? How do you want me to spell it out for you Peter?"

He looked stunned. "Certainly you're not thinking I'm trying to get inside your pants?"

"Peter, what I think is hardly relevant here. It's difficult enough for me as it is. See, I was trained to deal with hostage crisis, chemical attacks, suicide bombing, the whole nine yards. I'm having trouble to fit into this new assignment. I'm having trouble to relate to Broyles, for the life of me, I'm even having trouble to relate to myself right now."

So much for trying to be his friend when she was the one acting as one.

"You must understand that it has nothing to do with you or Walter. You probably remember my lapse of judgment about my friend slash partner John? Well on top of it, I'm having these very intimate visions of me… from John's point of view. I'm not sure I'm quite ready to experience that, just yet."

Her head sank to her chest.

"I can't think of anyone ever ready to experience that."

"Please, don't tell Walter." Her voice was even and toneless. "I wouldn't want to put more… erotic ideas inside his head," she smiled.

"Sure I won't, believe me, indulging Walter into his little habit, that's the last thing I want," he grinned. "By the way I want to take some time to apologize profusely for his continuing gruesome remarks."

"Yup. Well." She waved dismissively. "Are we good?"

"Not as good as I'd like," he said with a smile.

"You're not going to turn into your father are you?"

"Touché."

"Thanks Peter anyway." Now, she was the one patting his hand. "The fact that I can say out loud that you are my friend is nothing short of extraordinary. I know I can trust you but just now… you're my brother Rick."

"Coming from someone who considers her sister as her best friend, I'm flattered Dunham."

"It's something I can handle."

"More than friend Peter?"

She blushed.

"More than friend Peter."

He grinned.

"Okay. I can live with that."

Then it hit him. He was the one with the trusting issues. He was hiding behind his bravado and supposed good looks to get the girl when she was pouring her heart out to him. All she knew about him apart that he was the son of Frankenstein, was that he would have liked to be a dinosaur when he was ten. Well, maybe it was time to grow up and trust her.

He retrieved a deck of cards from his pocket. "Do you know anything about cards Dunham?"

That was as good a place to start as any, until we're ready.

Scratch that, he thought, until I'm ready.

-o-

So… what do you think? I guess that Pacey invited himself without my consent ;)