Disclaimer: This was written for my own and hopefully other people's entertainment, not for profit. I don't own any of the characters form the show, because if I did we'd get 52 episodes per year and I wouldn't have to resort to thinking up my own scenarios to help me through the hiatus.

Author's Notes: Set in mid season 3, this is an alternate follow-up to Entrada, basically replacing The Marionette. If bits of the dialogue sound familiar, it's because I *cough* borrowed them from those two episodes. I also took the liberty of traveling back in time to spring Newton from prison before Fauxlivia could get him to self-destruct. Apart from the fact that it was a crying shame to kill off such a colorful character, he was just the villain I needed to inspire me. In order to bring the storyline back to canon, just assume that he committed suicide in his cell off-screen, i.e. after the events of this fic.

Special thanks to my wonderful beta mvariorum who guided me around several rough spots, making this so much more readable.

I apologize in advance for any mistakes regarding medical issues or Boston. I did research my facts, but Google is a poor excuse for personal experience.

Part 1 of 3

If it wasn't for you I would never have made it back. You saved my life.

Those words played in Peter's mind in an endless loop, long after Olivia had succumbed to exhaustion again. He just sat there by her hospital bed at the Boston Medical center, her hand in his, pondering the irony of her revelation. She considered him her savior, when in fact he had deserted her in the worst possible way. Peter dreaded the moment when she would be strong enough to learn the truth. Not for his own sake, he would gladly take whatever scorn and punishment Olivia would inflict on him - feeling he deserved it and more. No, what would shatter his heart into a thousand fragments would be to see the love and happiness he had just witnessed fade from her amazing green eyes, only to be replaced by hurt and betrayal.

Peter didn't know how long he had been sitting there when the door opened and Broyles stepped into the room. Noticing that Olivia was asleep, the FBI agent beckoned and Peter joined him in the corridor, leaving the door open.

"Has she woken up yet?" Broyles asked.

Peter nodded. "She was conscious for a few minutes."

"Did she say anything? About the Other Side's plans for her?"

"No." Something in Broyles tone alerted Peter that there was more to the question. "Why? What are you thinking?"

"It's more of a gut feeling." Broyles' eyes wandered to the sleeping woman in the bed. "The circumstances of her return indicate that Agent Dunham escaped. And we know that the Other Side has agents here. They could be trying to get her back."

Peter caught on immediately. "You mean they may not have had the time to extract all they wished to learn from our Olivia. You think she's in danger."

"She could be. That's why I will have her transferred to a safe house."

Peter nodded. "Good idea. And just in case the shapeshifters are already watching her, we should use a decoy to draw them away."

"A decoy?" Broyles asked with a frown. "That would take time to arrange. I would prefer to move Agent Dunham as quickly as possible."

"Don't worry, I'll be the decoy." Peter's quick wit had already formulated a plan. "All we need is a volunteer who resembles Olivia superficially. The Shapeshifters don't know what kind of injuries she has, so we can bandage their heads so you can't see the hair. I bring the double out the back entrance, load her into my SUV, and drive to our house in Cambridge. In the meantime, you transfer Olivia into an ambulance that's parked in the garage out of sight."

Broyles nodded. "Good thinking. I will also provide an unmarked police car as an escort for you. That will make it even more believable."

"And just in case the other side has already infiltrated the ICU, " Peter added, looking up and down the corridor to make double sure they could not be overheard, "we'll make the switch in the elevator."

FringeFringeFringe

"Promise me to be careful, Peter," Olivia said as a nurse put the finishing touches to a turban of bandages that covered her head completely.

"No need to worry," Peter reassured her. "You've only been back a few hours. I doubt the Other Side already has an abduction scenario planned. This is just a precaution."

"Still." Olivia played nervously with the hem of the scrub top she wore. "I don't like the idea of you being the target in this decoy operation."

"But I'm the obvious choice," Peter insisted. "It'll work like a charm, you'll see."

Olivia sighed. "Promise me you'll call as soon as you're home, okay?"

"Of course I will." Putting his fingers under her chin, Peter lifted her face to press a kiss to her forehead, just below the bandage. "And I also promise to come see you the minute Broyles tells me it's safe."

Olivia nodded, trying her best to answer with a smile. At that moment the door opened and Broyles entered to announce that everything was in place, and that the police officer who had been dressed and bandaged to look just like Olivia was now ready.

Peter's plan went without a hitch. On the elevator ride down the car stopped on another floor to admit an male nurse pushing a gurney with a covered body on it. As the elevator continued its descent, the woman who was hiding under the sheet switched places with Olivia, who had been slouched in a wheel chair, an oxygen mask covering her mouth and nose. On the ground floor Peter got out pushing the wheelchair while the gurney continued its way down to the basement level, that housed the pathology department as well as the parking garage.

While assisting the patient into the back of his SUV and helping her lie down across the seats out of sight, Peter took care to shield her face from prying eyes as much as he could. He had just closed the door when two men approached him and flashed their badges.

"Detectives Reed and Decker, Boston PD," the taller one of them said. "We'll be escorting you and Agent Dunham to Cambridge."

"Thank you, detectives, I appreciate that," Peter replied, barely giving the offered IDs a glance since Broyles had announced their security detail. He walked around the car to the driver's seat while the two plainclothes officers got into their own vehicle, ready to follow the black SUV.

After putting the key into the ignition, Peter turned to the young woman in the back seat. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Sharon," was the reply.

"I'm Peter. Nice to meet you. You comfortable?" When she nodded, Peter said. "Then let's get this show on the road," and started the engine. As he pulled away from the curb he saw in his rear view mirror an ambulance exiting from the garage ramp behind him and turning in the other direction.

FringeFringeFringe

They made good time down Massachusetts Ave and were getting close to the Turnpike underpass when Peter had to pull up at a red light. To his surprise, the police car following him drew up level with him, and the officer in the passenger seat rolled down his window.

"We just heard that there's heavy congestion ahead, due to an overturned vehicle at the Beacon Street junction. Could be coincidence, but the timing and the location so close to the bridge are suspicious. I suggest we take another route, pick up I-93 and double back via Washington Street."

"Makes sense. Let's do it," Peter replied and set his indicator for a right turn.

As he drove down Belvedere Street, something kept niggling at his brain. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Peter looked at the display and saw that he had no signal. Next he activated the car's GPS and traffic advisory. There was no sign of an incident at Massachusetts and Beacon.

With a muttered oath Peter crammed the phone back into his pocket.

"Is something wrong?" the officer in the back seat asked.

"Yes, there is. The detectives following us are phony, and they somehow managed to block my mobile's signal."

Sharon made a move to sit up, but Peter stopped her with a quick, "Stay down!" When she obeyed he explained, "I don't want them to know we're on to them."

"Right." After a short pause the police woman asked, "You got a plan?"

Peter nodded. "I need to drop you off somewhere so you can alert Broyles. And then I have to get to the house in Cambridge without them noticing that you're not in the car anymore." He thought for a moment. "There's a gas station on Herald Street. I'll find a way to get out of their sight for a moment, and you make a run for it. Just don't let them see you, okay?"

"Gotcha."

Peter heard the rustling of fabric and when he turned his head he met Sharon's eyes from where she was crouching in the footwell behind the passenger seat. She had discarded the bandages and her face was framed by a mass of dark red curls. She was also pulling off the scrub top and pants, which was no small feat in the confined space. Underneath she wore a very short jeans skirt and low-cut halter top.

Looking ahead again Peter said, "I thought the idea was to be inconspicuous."

"Nope," Sharon replied, "the idea is not to be taken for an invalid Olivia Dunham."

Peter cast an approving look over his shoulder. "I see they picked the right officer for the job."

"Actually, I'm a Lieutenant," Sharon corrected him. "And I work in vice, so this outfit comes with the territory. But what about you?"

Peter smiled, but there was no trace of humor in the expression. "I'm going to play hide and seek with these guys."

FringeFringeFringe

"Are you sure he doesn't suspect anything?" the shapeshifter who called himself 'Decker' asked his colleague.

"Why should he?"

"This isn't the direct route to I-93."

"Maybe he's trying to see if we're being followed."

"Possibly." 'Decker' was not convinced. But just then, the SUV before them turned into a gas station.

"See," 'Reed' said with conviction. "He's just low on gas." But to their surprise the vehicle didn't pull up by the pumps but turned into an empty parking space right next to a mini van. There was no room next to Peter's car, so the shapeshifters had to park on the other side of the van. The moment the car came to a standstill, 'Decker' jumped out and walked over to Peter who had opened the SUV's hood and was just pulling out the rod to check the oil level.

"Anything wrong?" 'Decker' asked.

"Nothing serious. The oil light came on, so I thought I better check." Peter inspected the tip of the rod. "A bit on the low side, but enough to make it home." He put the rod back into its place and closed the hood. "Let's not waste any more time."

'Decker' nodded in agreement. As he followed Peter to the driver's door, he cast a look into the backseat of the car. The SUV's tinted windows didn't make for a clear view of the interior, but he could see the bandage covered head sticking out from under the blanket. Still, something didn't look right. The blanket was too flat. With an oath, he yanked the back door open and tugged the blanket away, staring in disbelief at the empty back seat.

"Reed!" he shouted. As the other shapeshifter came running around the front of the mini van, neither of them noticed the provocatively dressed girl slithering out from under the back end of the parked car and casually walking away.

'Decker' pulled a gun and jabbed it into Peter's side. "Where is she?" he demanded.

"Who?" Peter asked innocently.

"The woman in the back seat."

Peter grinned and shook his head. "There was nobody in the back seat."

This earned him a painful right hook into his kidneys, courtesy of 'Reed'. "Don't mess with us," 'Decker' growled. "We saw her get into the car."

"And she got out again on the other side as you two stooges were walking towards your car. Don't you get it? I'm just the decoy. Olivia is long gone."

'Reed' looked at 'Decker'. "Do you think it's possible?"

"I don't know. But check the area. See if she's hiding here somewhere. She's injured and wouldn't get far."

As 'Reed' walked away, 'Decker' pulled a phone from his pocket and made a call. He reported their position and the missing Olivia. After receiving instructions, he snapped the phone shut and motioned for Peter to step away from the SUV.

"We're going on a little trip. You're driving. But we're taking our car."

"Where are we going?"

"Newton wants to have a chat with you."