Ideal Normalcy
By Cortexikid
A/N: Just the first chapter of a little two-shot with some smutty goodness (in the next chapter) to tide us over until September.
I suppose it could be linked to my two other fics "Pain, Fear, Love" and "Fleeting Moments" but it can just be read by itself too.
Disclaimer: If I were in charge of Fringe, Peter would find out about "Bolivia" in the first episode of Season 3 and kick her ass until she told him her devious plans and how he can get Olivia back. Seen as I've no idea how anything will actually go down, is pretty good indicator that I am not in charge, nor own Fringe. Sigh.
So she made it back.
After weeks of being caged up like an animal in a zoo for the viewing pleasure of one Secretary of Defense Walter Bishop, Olivia Dunham managed to escape, thanks to the experiments performed on her as a child by an entirely different Walter Bishop.
Explaining her recent "oddness" to Rachel over the last couple of weeks had been easy, she merely feigned (well not entirely) tiredness and stress over being on an "uncover assignment"(hence the hair alteration) that was of course, classified.
She had all her bases covered. Until it came to her niece.
"Aunt Liv, is it really you?" the girl had asked upon her arriving home for the first time in many weeks.
"Of course, baby-girl, who else would I be?" she replied, trying not to glance at Peter nervously as they entered the living room.
The little girl regarded her aunt for a moment, and as if suddenly making a definite decision she exclaimed, "I missed you!" before wrapping her arms around her Olivia's waist and smiling up at her.
"Don't be silly, silly, you only saw me last week," Olivia continued the lie, clutching her niece back, trying not to seem more frantically relieved upon seeing her for the first time in actually two months.
Rachel smirked in her direction, seeing her daughter's reaction.
"Honestly, Liv, she's been like that for the last few weeks, asking when you're coming back even when you've just gone to the store. Hi Peter, it's been a while," she smiled, turning her attention to the man standing quietly in the doorway.
Olivia had almost forgotten he was there in her haste to greet her niece; she had to force herself not to hug her sister with the gripping intensity in which she desperately wanted to. She had thought she'd never seen them again, after all. But the plan was to remain nice and normal, well as normal as she could manage after everything.
"Hey Rach, yeah I was away for a while and when I got back things were just crazy at work. How've you been?" Olivia was grateful for Peter's charm – even if it was temporarily directed at her sister, as it gave her time to study her surroundings.
Everything seemed so…familiar, exactly the way she left it. Except, she knew better. She tried not to think about that alter-bitch touching any of her things, wearing her clothes, sleeping in her bed, bathing herself in her shower, eating her food, watching her TV with her niece…spending time with her Pete-
Suddenly, it was all too much.
"Uh, I'm-I'll be right back…bathroom," she mumbled, covering her mouth with the back of her hand to disguise her laboured breath.
She barely made it to the bathroom before the shaking took control of her limbs. She sat on the toilet seat, head in her hands, breathing in and out deeply, trying to gain control of herself.
It had been like this the last eleven days that she had been back. And she had spent the entirety of those eleven days making sure that she was well enough (in every sense of the word) to finally go home.
They had her alter-self in custody, arresting her and keeping her captive on the third day of Olivia's return. She had demanded that the alter act normal and calm, telling her sister she was going on a operation for a while and would not be able to contact her – all the while being under strict supervision by a team sent by Agent Broyles, of course.
This was Olivia's only source of comfort these last few days as she tried to deal with everything.
"'Livia," a soft voice came from behind the door, "are you okay?"
Okay, so maybe it wasn't her only source of comfort.
"Peter…" she mumbled, leaning forward and clutching the sink before opening the unlocked door. She found it hard to lock anything now.
Barely half a second passed before he was standing in her quaint en-suite bathroom with her, shutting the door gently, gazing down at her.
"Hey…" he trailed off, unsure of how to continue.
It had been, tense, to say the least, these past eleven days. Between the shock of her return, recovering physically in the hospital to the mental strain she found herself under, everything was just so difficult.
They had still yet to fully talk about what happened to her. But Peter was not going to rush it; he cared too much and would not rock her already fragile state.
"Hey…" she whispered, still standing with her left hand clutching the edge of the sink.
She had spent time making sure that the sickly, pale, frail look had subsided somewhat but as she caught a glance of herself in the mirror she could clearly see the evidence conveyed. Her eyes lowered, not wishing to linger on herself when she felt a soft pressure on her arm.
Turning, she saw Peter's hand resting gently on her. Slowly, she dragged her eyes up to meet his. She could see herself reflected in his gaze and like the mirror they showed the truth, the harsh reality that she now faced, the haunting in her eyes that had intensified. So she settled her gaze elsewhere.
On his lips.
It was almost by accident, but a part of her knew that that on some level it was a conscious decision. They too had yet to discuss anything that had happened before her capture (for obvious reasons) but now, as she stood here in her bathroom, silently tracing the outline of his mouth with her gaze, she couldn't help but cast her mind back, to what seemed like an eternity ago, to the moment where her heart had skipped a beat.
"Peter…I-I don't know how to…" she shook her head, frustrated with herself as she felt the familiar sting threaten her eyes.
The pressure left her arm and clutched her cheek, stroking softly, familiarly, and she closed her eyes, leaning into the touch with such minute caution that Peter may have imagined it.
"'Livia…you…you're not alone in this. If you need me, I'm here," he whispered, leaning forward slightly, trying to catch her eye again.
Softly, he nudged her chin to rise.
She complied, out of what she didn't know but like the times that they stood close like this before she felt drawn to him, her eyes finding his almost without her consent. Looking into those handsome mixture of blue and green, a soft smile graced her lips for the first time in what felt like years.
"Peter I think I ne-"
"-Liv, are you alright in there?"
The two jumped a little as the tap on the door and Rachel's concerned voice interrupted them. Peter flashed her a quick grin as the two stared at each other for a moment, their predicament dawning on them.
"Uh, yeah Rach I'm fine, just-just getting into the shower…" she trailed off, her brow furrowing at the terrible lie.
"Oh, okay, well, I just wanted to let you know that me and Ella are gonna hit the road, I've got some friends coming over to my place in a while so…hey do you know where Peter went? He was here just a second ago…"
Olivia heard the badly contained smugness lacing her tone. She knew damn well where Peter was…or at least had a fair idea. It made Olivia wonder just how much time her alter-self and Peter spent together, especially around her sister.
Sensing her thoughts going in undesirable directions she quickly changed course, "oh he had to go back to the lab, something for work, I'm gonna get ready and meet him there in a bit. I'll see you later, Rach, you and Ella have fun," she finished, trying to keep her voice as normal as possible as Peter shook his head, he too badly concealing his smirk.
"Okay…bye Liv," came the almost sing-song reply.
Olivia listened intently for her sister's retreating footsteps, all the while ignoring the man next to her. After a moment she heard a small voice call "bye Aunt Liv" before the front door closed with a dignified snap.
Olivia could hardly bring herself to look at Peter, but she decided to face the music and was met by his uniquely coloured orbs dancing with unshed laughter.
She smiled softly again, allowing a little of it to grace her own eyes before gesturing towards the door.
"I guess we should…"
"Yeah…"
The two left the small room silently and walked out into the open living room. Olivia went straight to the kitchen, pulling a glass out of the cabinet before searching for something in every available space. Peter watched intently as a frown began to form on her face.
"She-she got rid of it all…apparently she doesn't like the taste."
Neither acknowledged who or what he was talking about or she looking for. Olivia slowly lowered the empty glass to the table.
"Did she tell you that?"
It wasn't something she thought she was ready to talk about yet, but the words had tumbled from her lips before she could stop them. Without turning, she could tell that he was as uncomfortable talking about this as she was but that didn't mean she didn't want an answer.
"Yeah, when they took her in I-I asked her a few questions. Why I never saw her drink and why she turned them down happened to be one of them."
Olivia nodded, turning around but not looking at him.
Peter could tell that this seemingly simple conversation was getting to her and wanted desperately to change the subject.
"Huh so that would have been something to explain, right? Why we were both in your bathroom while-"
"Don't. Peter."
Those two words stopped him in his tracks. He was at a loss of what to do. He usually was so good with words, always knew just the right thing to say in any circumstance, but here, now, with her, after everything…the words just wouldn't come.
"Look, I'm gonna get some rest okay? I've gotta go see Broyles in a couple of hours, discuss tactics and…so I'll see you later?" she posed it as a question but Peter still felt the plea behind it.
She wanted to be left alone.
Yet he did not want to comply.
"Yeah, you should get some rest, it's been a long day," he replied, while turning on the spot and sitting down on her couch, looking around for the remote.
"What are you doing?" she asked, not irked but certainly confused.
"What's it look like I'm doing? It's been so long since I've watched some bad day-time TV, I might as well catch up now," behind his light-hearted words he knew he was taking a huge risk here. Olivia Dunham was not the type of woman that would like the thought of being looked after or 'babysat' but he could not bring himself to leave.
"Peter…" he heard the warning in her tone but…her eyes spoke a different language altogether. He glanced up at her and caught her gaze and at that moment he saw so many whirling emotions reflecting back at him that he did not know how to respond.
Relief. Regret. Frustration. Anger. Pain. Fear. Warmth. Affection…
He knew she was battling with herself. Battling with her usual hardened self, but after all she'd been through, he guessed she just had no fight left in her for an argument.
Olivia knew, deep down, there was no chance of him leaving and a part of her (the part that would struggle to admit it) was so grateful for that. For him.
Turning towards her bedroom, she decided not to acknowledge his decision any further, just mumbling "I'll be back in an hour" as she tried to ignore the familiar tingle in her stomach as she felt his eyes follow her.
That was when she saw it. Her bed. Her bed that was tossed and unmade as if someone had been sleeping in it for days while experiencing vivid nightmares.
She backed out of the room silently, trying to ebb away the images of the other her sleeping with her head on the pillow, the blankets pooled around her knees.
As if they couldn't get worse, the image sprang to mind of her not alone in her bed. With a familiar man wrapped around her, kissing her neck, murmuring her name…
It was sickening.
Peter glanced up as he saw Olivia return, a look of confusion, hurt and disgust on her face.
"Livia, what's wrong?" he asked, standing up and walking over to her.
She wanted to ask him, really she did, but she just couldn't bring herself to. To show such…weakness, concern over what might have been.
He would have told her though, wouldn't he?
"Peter I…I think I'd like to watch some bad day-time TV instead…" she mumbled, not looking at him as she walked over to the couch and sat down.
"Okay…whatever you want, it's your house," he chanced a smile as he sat down beside her and passed her the remote.
Nodding, she began flicking through channels, her eyes looking but not seeing. Peter sat back into the couch, his head turned towards the TV but his eyes flickering to her every few moments.
It seems normalcy (whatever normalcy people like them could get) was proving a bit more difficult than they both idealistically thought…
A/N: So I may not see this happening in Season 3 but I had fun writing it all the same. The next chapter will more than likely be rated M so I'll be changing the rating, just to let you know.
Reviews are appreciated =]