So, here is a new story. The plot's been running in my mind for a while, but i never had the chance to put it down. So i've started it and I'll see where it goes from here.
Disclaimer: no infringement intended
Warnings: none really.
Spoilers: Season 1, episode 7 (i'm sure everyone reading this has seen THAT episode0
Summary: A mystery vacation from Broyles?
Olivia stared at the papers like they were strange aliens. Like they had four heads and nineteen arms and seventy-three eyes and came straight from a B-rated horror movie. They were so foreign and misplaced on her kitchen counter that she wasn't quite sure what to do other than stare at them, the tiny stack of paper she hadn't seen since she first started her job a long time ago.
There were plane tickets and hotel reservations, conformation numbers and rental car agreements completely filled out in her name. Well, her name and the name of Peter Bishop. But it wasn't Peter Bishop's doing because he was currently on the line with her, just as silent and confused as she was.
"Liv?" he asked the receiver. Silence greeted him, following by the light, very light, breathing pattern of Olivia Dunham.
"Do you think it's so kind of joke?" she said uneasily. Peter let out a breathy chuckle. That was so like Olivia, always over thinking everything. He could hear a bit of hysteria in her voice and to be perfectly honest the whole thing was quite hilarious.
"Maybe it's a subtle gift from Broyles," Peter said reassuringly, "Maybe this is his way of saying we need a vacation."
"Doubtful," she replied quickly. It was too quickly for the likes of Peter and he frowned, running a hand over his face. He paced the living room of his home, walking to the window and looking out before pacing back to stand in front of the T.V.
"Look Liv," he said, "I don't want to sound like an ass, but I think we should go. I know I could use the time away and I'm pretty sure you need it more than I do."
"I just don't understand why there are only two plane tickets, just for you and I, not Walter or Astrid. If anything they deserve the time off more than us," she argued idly. Peter stifled a groan. She always argued for things like working extra. She never seemed to understand that she needed to take time off too, even if it killed her. She was just as deserving as Astrid and Walter.
"You know what Olivia?" Peter sighed into the phone, "Just forget it. Pack your bag, I'll be at your house tomorrow morning at 3 in the morning to get you. Don't worry about Walter or Astrid I'll take care of that tonight."
"Peter," she started, picking up the tickets and looking at them. Peter stopped her quickly.
"Don't even think about Olivia. We are going. That's final. Listen, Walter's about to come inside. I've got to go, see you in the morning."
"Peter," she tried again, but he had already hung up. She stared down at the phone in her hand and sighed loudly. Placing it back on the receiver, she picked up the tickets and gingerly traced her finger pads across them. They felt strange and unusual to her. She never was allowed vacation time, ever. Why did she get it now? And more importantly, where was she even going? Olivia dug through the stack of confirmation numbers and orders until she came a cross a glossy brochure.
On the front of the brochure was a beautiful aerial view of an island with tall, tropical looking trees covering it and surrounded by beautifully blue water, perfect blue water. From the view she could see the flawless white sand beaches and peaceful sailboats. She opened the page and skimmed over the text, focusing only on the amazing pictures of the palace-like place. Villas with white canopy tents over the front porch faced the beach. Jungle bungalows hidden within the trees surrounded an awesome pool with a cascading waterfall and glowing lights. Romantic candle lit tables glowed in a picture in the dusk light while in the picture right next to it a happy couple danced the night away near a bamboo bar.
Olivia frowned. The place looked more and more like a honeymoon resort than a place two adults could go to have fun. But the more she looked at it like that, the more she realized that maybe she could want it that way, that maybe she could use this to be the place and time to let Peter know just exactly what she wants him to know. She smiled a small smile at the thought but pushed it away from her head as quickly as it had come into play. She was sure there where some singles there that she could dance with; but part of her ached for the attention from Peter. Maybe this could be her chance.
Smiling to herself, Olivia found her way back to her bedroom and rummaging through her closet for her suitcase. She came up with a small black one and tossed it onto the bed, unzipping it. The last time she used this was in Germany, and she had almost slept with Lucas again. How ironic had it been that Peter was the one to break that up? She unzipped the bag and flung it open, spinning on her heel to pack her clothing.
She grabbed a simple black dress for one night, a flowing white one for a day on the beach and a red one for dancing. She packed herself three pairs of jeans and two pairs of shorts, happily ditching the slacks she had to wear for work. She grabbed three loose cotton blouses, a white shirt made of taffeta that her sister got her for her birthday one year, a blouse of chiffon silk that was a friend's that never asked for it back and one long peach colored silk strapless shirt, if she ever wanted to wear it. She was sure it was Rachel's, but Rachel had left it here when she moved out and Olivia had always liked the color a lot. Digging through a drawer she never really went into, she found a simple brown swimsuit and tossed it inside, along with a lime colored wrap that it had come in. Once she had stuffed all those items in the suitcase, she went into the bathroom and grabbed a bag, filling it with toiletries and stuffing it into a carry on bag.
Olivia wandered back into the kitchen around 8 o'clock, intent on making dinner. She pulled out a bottle of red wine and poured herself a glass, taking a sip. She was rummaging through the fridge when her landline rung, the caller I.D. letting her know Peter was calling her back. Sighing, she closed the fridge and picked up the phone, taking another sip from her wine glass at the same time.
"Hello," she answered, although she knew who it was.
"Hey," Peter said on the other side of the line, "It's me."
"I know."
"Oh," Peter said, sitting on the couch with his feet strung over the arm of it. He had muted the T.V. and was currently staring at the ceiling with a stupid grin on his face. "So, I got Walter all situated for the next five days."
"Please, don't tell me it's with Astrid," Olivia begged, hoping that he didn't do that.
"Well, not really," he started slowly. He quickly added, "See I called Broyles to see what we could do with Walter and he said there was some strange science convention which Astrid was going to speak at for the next five days and they had requested for Dr. Bishop to talk originally, but he didn't ask you or I because it was silly. But since Astrid is going, he decided Walter could go as well. And before you worry, I asked him if he could have an FBI handler that wasn't Astrid and he already has two assigned to him. He's very excited because apparently, they've been holding these things since he was a kid."
"Wow," was all Olivia could muster to say. She picked at the mortar in her counter as a long silence followed. Was she really wishing for a way to weasel out of this? Probably. "Have you packed, yet?" she asked, breaking the strange silence.
"Yeah," he answered, "I packed clothes for warmer weather. I'm so ready for the change."
"Yeah," Olivia answered, "Me too."
"So, I'll see you at three, right?" Peter asked, still staring up at the ceiling.
"Yeah," Olivia answered, downing the last of her wine, "I'll see you at three."
"Sleep well Liv," he said into the phone idly, almost as if he was just whispering it.
"You too, Peter," was her answer. He smiled as he heard his name from her lips and then the line clicked.
He stared at the ceiling, smiling like an idiot.