I have had this plot in my mind for awhile. It's nice to finally get it here.

This fic is dedicated to Xeen Cyr and her excellent story "...And Have A Ball."

There is something very fun about Peter &Olivia undercover. I wish there were more stories about it*hint*.

Totally unbetaed. And I do not own anything to do with FOX, Bad Robot, or Fringe.

"The Scientific Group on Methodologies for the Safety Evaluation of Chemicals" really exists but I know nothing about them and assume they are wonderful, so please do not sue me.

Sometimes undercover ops do not go as planned.

Golden Girl

"I'll check us in, alright? Maybe you can find us some coffee?" FBI Special Agent Olivia Dunham did not wait for a reply. She turned toward the hotel's front desk practically skipping to the counter, long auburn-colored tresses flying everywhere in her haste.

FBI Civilian Consultant Peter Bishop turned away from where Olivia had stood, giving the grandiose hotel lobby a once-over and a nod of approval. Not bad for the Feds, he thought. As he continued his visual scan for a coffee bar he saw and felt numerous patrons look at him and then turn away.

Peter let out a breath of annoyance. He had told the Boston FBI's undercover expert at least twice it was too much, but Agent Phelps had insisted his disguise was perfect for this mission. With Peter's hair dyed a brassy dirty-blonde he looked like an older version of that bodacious character Pacey Witter from Dawson's Creek. Except Peter's eyes were now blue instead of their original piercing green, thanks to government-issued, soft, extended-wear contacts.

He had barely spotted the black and silver urns in the distance when Olivia grabbed his free arm and yelled "C'mon. It's already started. We have to change!" With Peter in tow Olivia broke into a sprint for the nearest elevator. As if on cue the elevator doors opened and the two settled with their carry-ons into the left rear corner as the car quickly filled. Peter could feel Olivia's chest pressed against his side. He sighed and thought about how they had ended up here.

-Flashback-

Peter and Olivia sat on opposite sides of the diner booth silently staring at Charlie Francis while the CD jukebox mumbled a rap song.

"Broyles?! Are you sure? How reliable is this intel?" Olivia Dunham's voice wavered, laced with surprise.

"Pretty reliable. Yeah. It's shocking isn't it? All the hard work Phillip Broyles has done for the Bureau over the years and it turns out he's a fucking mole."

"But are we sure?" Olivia practically shouted. She couldn't believe that another person she had trusted with her life was a traitor.

"Some undercovers in Atlanta saw him about a week ago, in an exchange. They have a picture of him handing over a USB."

"Wow." Peter Bishop took another swallow of his beer and sat back."What do you need us for?"

"If I weren't tied up in Springfield with the Williams' case I'd do it, but.."

"What do you need, Charlie?" Olivia leaned over the table toward Charlie getting in his face.

"OK then." Charlie flipped both locks on his briefcase and extracted a packet of papers. He looked both ways to make sure no one was paying them any attention. Then he handed each of them a packet of papers. "Two days from now there is a meeting of the Scientific Group on Methodologies for the Safety Evaluation of Chemicals in Washington. We are hearing through satellite chatter that Middle Eastern delegates will be there. After the keynote speaker there's a dinner and then a dance at the Kennedy Center." Charlie sighed. "Agent Peters in London somehow intercepted a correspondence from Yemen to one of Brolyes' email addresses advising him to rendezvous at the dance."

"To what? Hand over information?"Olivia asked.

"We think so. We suspect Broyles is getting ready to sell Bureau information to some radical group in Yemen. Maybe even to their government."

"God," Peter said taking the last sip of his beer.

Charlie locked eyes with Olivia. His voice turned low and loving. "Livvie, I need you to go there and watch for Broyles to show up. See if he's really a scum and if our intelligence is correct."

Peter sat up straighter, looking a little defensive. Charlie turned his eyes to him. "You too, Peter.

You're good at reading situations and people, with your background...you'll go together."

"But Charlie," Olivia interrupted, "Broyles will recognize us!"

"Not when Phelps gets done with you two, he won't."

Peter set his empty beer bottle on the table. "You'll give us back-up?"

"Sure. I'm putting four agents on it. They've already been briefed."

A silence hung in the air over the table, as they all focused on their inner thoughts.

"So we're good then?" Charlie asked.

Peter and Olivia looked at each other and then nodded.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you to keep this quiet. Nothing goes through the Bureau. I will get you your plane tickets, ID's, etcetera." Charlie sat back and gave them a weak smile. "Well, congratulations you two. You are unofficially undercover."

"Fantastic," Peter replied with his best snark.

Charlie started to get up signaling the end of the meeting. "I'll be in touch."