Chapter Title: Christmas
Pairing: Peter/Liv,???/???, Astrid/Walter
Characters: Astrid F, Olivia D, Peter B, Walter B
POV: Olivia, Astrid
Genres: Holiday, Family/Friends, Humour
Spoilers: You have to pretend 1.10 never happened as this was started before "Safe" and I'm not writing happy stuff without Liv
Warnings: mild sexual humour
Challenges: Christmas, December 17 2008,
Part of a Series?: Yes, "A Very Fringe Holiday"
Chapters: 1/3
Word count: 3377
Tinsel. Garlands. Poinsettia arrangements. Icicle lights.
Olivia felt like she had walked into a Macy's Christmas display. Well, one that had been set up in the basement laboratory of Harvard's Kresge Building. She hung her heavy parka on the coat tree and then simply stood still, trying to take in the decorated laboratory; someone had obviously spent a lot of time putting everything up and put a lot of effort into creating the paper chains and snowflakes hanging everywhere.
"Olivia!" Walter called out happily and her attention was directed to the makeshift office she had set up in one of the side rooms.
He was wearing a red knit sweater with felt reindeer flying across and much to her amused delight, Peter was wearing a similar sweater, though his was green and had a smiling snow man.
"Looove the threads, Peter," she teased.
Peter gave her a nasty smile and he handed her a folded black sweater. "Good, cuz here's yours."
A feeling of panic set in as she drew back from the piece of clothing. "Oh, uh, I don't wear—"
"You don't have a choice. Put it on," he ordered.
Olivia swallowed hard as she opened and held up the sweater and studied it. Cut out of red felt were huge bulb ornament shapes sewn on in random places, decorated with obscene amounts metallic piping and a disturbing quantity of sequins. As if that weren't enough, rhinestones the size of her thumbnails decorated the collar line. She took a deep breath and pulled it over her head.
"Wow. Uh, thank you, Walter," she said as she looked at herself in the reflection of a nearby computer monitor.
Walter gave a triumphant look to his son. "Told you she'd like it."
Behind his father's back, Peter mouthed, "Tasteful," and she scowled right back, thinking darkly,
'All I need now is a headdress made out of rat skeletons, and I'd fit right in at an Off-Off-Off-Broadway burlesque.'
Walter seemed oblivious to the less-than-enthusiastic feelings towards the sweaters and wandered over to an Erlenmeyer flask that was boiling over a Bunsen burner. "I've made hot chocolate! And the way you like it, Peter! With the ground hazelnut?"
Peter seemed quite surprised at this information. "You remember that?"
"Of course I'd remember how you like your hot chocolate," his father replied as though it had been a foolish question.
Olivia shrugged at Peter and they both accept mugs of the delicious hot drink. Astrid came bustling into the laboratory, arms weighed down with shopping bags filled with Christmas ornaments. Shutting the door with her hip, she came towards the trio.
"Dr. Bishop! I've brought the ornaments you asked for! Morning, Liv! I was…oh, uh, nice sweater," she said giving her a wary smile.
Olivia glowered. "This is an involuntary fashion statement."
"Hello, young lady! How are you this morning?" Walter asked cheerfully as he handed her his empty coffee mug, obviously wanting her to fill it.
Astrid looked as though she were trying to bite back a laugh. "Fine, Dr. Bishop. You certainly look festive today."
Peter snatched the mug out of her hands, shooing his father away. "Walter, she's not a slave. Good morning, Astrid."
"Morning, Peter. Did your dad dress you today?" she asked innocently.
He glared at her. "I didn't have a choice. And you have one too, so wipe that smile off of your face."
Walter returned to them, sidling up to the assistant. "And here's something for you to wear. I bought it while Peter was off getting us coffee. "
Instead of producing a sweater, he held out a small florist's box, which he opened with a flourish to reveal a corsage of holly, evergreen sprigs, and white flower buds.
"Ooh!" Astrid exclaimed, looking very happy.
"Wait, why does she get that? Why isn't she wearing one of these?" Olivia asked as the neckline of her own garish sweater irritated her skin.
"She already wears nice sweaters. I didn't want to muss up her sense of flair," the scientist said as he pinned the florals to her assistant's sweater.
"Thank you, Walter," the younger woman said, examining the corsage.
Peter looked just as pissed as Olivia felt. "Walter, we bought four sweaters. If Astrid gets a love token, who has the last sweater?"
"Gene, of course. Since she can't wear it, I've hung it next to her stall. Just because she's a cow doesn't mean she can't celebrate with us." Then he added, "And it's not a love token."
"Walter, I didn't pay twenty five bucks for the cow to join in on your reindeer games."
"Her name is Gene and she is a cow. Rangifer tarandus have nothing to do with this," he said critically then threw his hands in the air. "Oh! And before I forget, Santa came last night!"
Olivia checked her watch, which had a date function on it. Yes, she wasn't going crazy: it was still December 17, a Wednesday.
"Santa?" she said skeptically.
Walter handed them each a red fuzzy Christmas stocking, including one for Astrid. "And he didn't forget you, Miss."
Olivia held her stocking warily and decided to watch Astrid investigate hers first so she'd have some idea what to expect; Astrid fished out a rolled piece of paper and opened it up, smiling.
"Honourary Certificate of Laboratory Assistance," she read aloud, though seemed less enthusiastic about the next thing she pulled out. "And Cup-a-Noodles."
"Yes, shrimp flavoured," Walter said happily.
Olivia moved to one of the many desks and carefully poured out the contents of her fuzzy red stocking onto the wood surface. Four Hershey's bars, a ball made of rubber bands, an aluminum can tab, two Snickers bars, a bag of peanut M&M's, a single AAA battery, and a pair of 1991 license plate tags.
"Are these yours?" she asked Peter, holding the tags up.
"They go to the Vista Cruiser—is this where all the vending machine food went?" the younger Bishop asked as he peered into his own stocking.
"Not all of it," Walter replied uneasily then pointed overhead. "Mistletoe."
Olivia looked up and realised that indeed she was standing under a cloud of mistletoe and coffee filter snowflakes. "Oh, uh—"
"You have to kiss. That's the rules," he said firmly and she looked over at the younger woman standing next to her.
Astrid shrugged and gave Olivia a quick peck on the corner of her mouth before she could react. Peter grinned and Olivia decided she was far more interested in her candy bars than his face.
(Line Break)
Astrid was humming "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" while checking the latest shipment of test tubes when Dr. Bishop snuck up on her, making her jump about a foot in the air.
"Aquarius, do you have your car?"
"Oh! You scared me," she said, trying to calm her racing heart. "Yes, I have the car."
"Good." He pushed a handful of bills into her hands. "We need to go Christmas shopping."
(Line Break)
Dr. Bishop had rolled down the passenger side window, letting the frigid air into the car as he yelled, "We're getting a tree! We're getting a tree! We're getting a tree! We're getting a tree!"
Astrid pulled into the parking lot of the Safeway, where a Boy Scout troop was selling the Christmas evergreens and found a parking place for the government-owned SUV. She was happy to be out of the laboratory and as she found the doctor his pair of bright red mittens, she gave a silent prayer of thanks that he wasn't more than she could handle, though he was refusing his coat under the belief that he'd get the wool sticky with resin. Going out to participate in traditional Christmas pastimes of rushing and spending money was something she secretly enjoyed and could tell he liked, too. She also figured that Peter and Olivia needed a break from Walter and while her original reason for joining the FBI wasn't to become a babysitter, she was able to view it more as "hanging out". It was also considerably more fun than filling out papers or checking test tube shipments, that was sure.
"How tall of a tree do you want?" she asked as she climbed out of the vehicle and walked around to his side.
"Taller than me!" he said animatedly, waving his hands high above his head.
"Nothing too big, though," she said as a man in scout master uniform approached them.
"Morning!" the man greeted.
"We want to buy a Christmas tree," Dr. Bishop said happily.
Like a used car sales man, the scout master's face lit up and he gave them a toothy grin, beckoning them to follow. "We have plenty of great trees for you two to pick from."
As she walked among the rows of trees, she wondered what the two of them looked like from the outside. A couple? A man and his nurse? Two parishioners from a church? Dr. Bishop's observations of the atmospheric weather certainly didn't alleviate any of her questions.
"It sure is cold!" he looked down at the front of his festive Christmas sweater. "My nipples are hard. What about yours, Areola?"
She stopped walking and planted her hands firmly on her hips. "We are not discussing my nipples, Walter."
The man looked like he wanted to laugh and Dr. Bishop looked a little annoyed to have been scolded in front of a stranger.
"Just trying to make conversation." He looked over in the direction of the Safeway. "I have the sudden craving for whipped cream. And maraschino cherries."
"Please stop talking," she said with an exasperated sigh.
He gave her a very impatient look. "We will need to stop at the grocery store before we return to the lab."
The scout leader obviously felt it was necessary to add his two cents to the matter. "Sounds like you've got a good day planned out."
"Indeed!" Dr. Bishop agreed as he violently shook a tree that he apparently liked.
As she gave the man a death glare, Astrid decided he would NOT be getting a tip.
(Line Break)
A lovely tree tied to the top of the SUV and the Christmas dinner in the trunk, they had moved on to official Christmas present shopping. Kmart was decided upon as the best place to buy almost everything in one fell swoop. They were wandering the aisles, she pushing the shopping cart while his hand rested on the lattice patterned plastic.
"Do you think he'd like this mountain bike?" he asked as a child's bicycle display distracted him.
"Where would he use it?" she asked as she checked her watch, very pleased at how well she was budgeting their time.
"Good point. What about this helmet?"
With all of the crazy cases they were working on, it didn't sound like such a bad idea, but she shook her head.
He shrugged and looked at the toy aisle with its bright lights and colourful plastic. He instantly honed in on a red fire truck, plucking it off the shelf to examine it.
"Peter wanted one of these when he was eight," he said softly.
"Did you get him one?" she asked, watching him almost cower at the sight of it.
He shook his head. "No. That year I spent Christmas in the laboratory. I had forgotten all about it until now."
He set it in the cart, still looking at it sadly and her hand found his, her small fingers resting atop his knuckles. He gave her a smile that broke her heart and he wandered over to the next thing that caught his eye, a toy fighter jet.
"Honey, do you think he'd like a new radio?"
Astrid felt her heart stop. "What did you just call me?"
He looked at her blankly. "Hmm?"
"You just called me honey," she said pointedly.
He shrugged. "Oh, I'm sorry. I must have thought you were Peter's mother. But do you think he'd like a new radio?"
"I have no idea," she said weakly and pushed the cart in the opposite direction.
(Line Break)
Apparently Dr. Bishop viewed Peter's gear as brought back with him from Iraq as inadequate, so their next trip was to Cabela's, a large hunting retail store known as the "World's Foremost Outfitter" to buy things to replace Peter's, though Dr. Bishop assured her that he didn't think Peter would need to use it in Iraq ever again.
"He's got a secure job here," he said firmly as she found a shopping cart at the front of the store.
His hand once again held onto the side of the cart as she pushed it along the different aisles and displays.
"He needs a good backpack. The one he brings with him is simply horrible. He should have something better than a canvas rucksack. And new socks. His have holes in them," he said not hiding the disgust in his voice.
"Noted," she said as she looked at camouflage-coloured shoelaces, wondering if Peter might need new ones for the boots he wore.
Dr. Bishop wandered up the aisle a bit to look at sporks made of titanium. "There was one time I was in Atlantic City, and I accidentally order a fruit cup."
She grinned. "Don't tell me—you aren't a fruit cup kind of guy?"
He spun around to look at her, his eyes large. "My dear that was EXACTLY what I was going to say."
"You've told me the story before."
The surprised him even further. "We talk a lot?"
She nodded as she decided on a pair of black nylon cord laces. "Yes, we do."
"Is that all we do?" he said with a sly grin.
She couldn't help but return the same smile. "Are you flirting with me?"
He shrugged. "You could probably call it leering as well." He pointed at a display counter up ahead. "Look at that knife! You could cut anything with it!"
She shook her head and motioned for him to follow her. "C'mon, Dr. Bishop. Let's go get that pack."
His hand returned to the side of the shopping cart. "We should fill it with surprises. Like a bone saw. And maybe handcuffs."
"I'm not even going to ask why you think he'd need those things," she grumbled.
"I remember one time I laid slivers of almond all over a woman's—"
She held up her hand. "Stop right there. I don't want to know."
"You'll miss what I did with the honey," he warned.
"I don't want to know," she repeated.
"Your loss," he grumbled as he tossed in a few pairs of socks.
She rolled her eyes and started pushing the cart again. "I'm sure."
(Line Break)
"I sing the body electric. The armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them; They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them, and discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the Soul," he said his hands cradling the coffee cup they picked up at Starbucks. "Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies conceal themselves? And if those who defile the living are as bad as they who defile the dead? And if the body does not do as much as the Soul? And if the body were not the Soul, what is the Soul?"
Astrid was waiting at a traffic light, hoping it would turn from red to green soon because she wanted to get back to the lab to get all of the tree set up and decorated. That was always her favourite thing to do during the Christmas holiday other then setting up her great-grandmother's nativity set on the mantle in her apartment. Dr. Bishop seemed intent on reciting the poem, whether for himself or her, she didn't know.
"The love of the Body of man or woman balks account—the body itself balks account; that of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect."
He gave wistful sigh as he looked out the window. She cleared her throat and decided to show him that he wasn't the only person to know Walt Whitman's verse.
"The expression of the face balks account; but the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face; It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists," she said as the light turned green. She let her foot off the brake and Dr. Bishop turned to look at her, astonished. Astrid continued. "It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees—dress does not hide him; the strong, sweet, supple quality he has, strikes through the cotton and flannel; to see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more; you linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side."
"That sounds like poetry out of your mouth," he said, placing his coffee in the vehicle's cup holder.
She raised an eyebrow. "It is poetry."
He shrugged as if he didn't believe her, but still kept the carefree smile on his face. "If you insist."
(Line Break)
Astrid and Olivia happily carried in the grocery bags that bore the evening's early feast while Peter and Dr. Bishop argued about what the best way to bring the Christmas tree into the lab was. Tree finally in place and all the food laid out, Dr. Bishop took the opportunity to hand Olivia a book they had bought up in the school's bookstore. "Something for you."
Olivia's eyes got wide as she looked at the book, "Leaves of Grass". "Oh wow. This is really nice, Walter."
The doctor nodded, looking quite pleased. "You should read it to Peter. Men like to have pretty women read them poetry."
Peter facepalmed and Olivia quickly set the book down. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Be sure you do," he said, obviously unaware of her embarrassment. "Peter you'll have to wait for your presents. Understand? No peeking."
His son rolled his eyes. "I won't peek. Now can we eat? I'm starving."
Astrid herself was relieved to finally get to sit down and eat the food they'd purchased earlier in the day. "Safeway was selling complete Christmas dinners, which means everyone will be taking leftovers home."
"A Christmas goose!" Peter said happily as Walter uncovered the mighty bird in the center of the desk, still warm.
Olivia clapped her hands together. "This looks awesome!"
"Mashed papaya and dinner rolls," Astrid said taking the lids off two different containers.
Olivia set out paper plates for everyone and then utensils. Unexpectedly, serving spoons and napkins were produced and everyone began to serve themselves as the food was placed on the heavy wooden desk.
"I brought fruitcake. And it's good, so don't make that face, Agent Dunham," she said, raising her eyebrows at the blonde who was wincing at the sight of the candied fruit on the ring shaped cake.
"And now for a prayer," Dr. Bishop sang.
Peter didn't look happy to wait any longer for the meal, but waved his father on anyway. "Go ahead."
The doctor dramatically cleared his throat. "And I will execute great vengeance upon them with furious rebukes; and they shall know that I am the LORD, when I shall lay my vengeance upon them."
"Who exactly was that threat directed towards?" Astrid asked, making a face.
"Not a threat," he said through a mouthful of papaya. "A promise."
"He watched "Pulp Fiction" last night," Peter apologised as he poured gravy from a plastic container over his mashed potatoes.
"They don't say the verse correctly, but it certainly impressive sounding." Walter pointed his hand like a gun towards the mashed potatoes. "Bang!"
A/N: I think that Walter wasn't favouring Astrid over Peter and Liv with the corsage; he probably knew she'd appreciate flowers more than those sweaters.
I loved when Walter had that (hopefully) toy gun in 1.10. "Stick 'em up!"
Fun Fact: all of the stuff found in Olivia's Christmas stocking were things Walter pulled out of the Vista Cruiser's cup holders, which Peter was having him clean out.
Oh man, I'm ttly gonna write out a Fringe one-shot that follows the Pulp Fiction story line. It's gonna rule.