Hi. So, the idea for this popped into my head as I was sitting in mass. (Aren't I a good little Catholic girl?) Ha! Anyway, this is not what had originally popped into my head, that scene is coming up in a later chapter, and THEN you will understand why it popped into my head during something religious *cough cough* (this is a hint) *cough cough*

This bit developed while I was napping, and mostly because I felt as though the scene that I'd envisioned in church needed some leading into. Plus, I'm barely surviving this hellatus.

I hope you enjoy this =)

Oh, and by the way, I do not own Fringe. Fringe belongs to The WB and FOX and J.J. Abrams and all of his wonderful colleauges. I just wrote this for fun. And trust me, it IS fun. Plus, if I did own Fringe, we'd have lots of POLIVIA babies by now. And they'd be awesome. Although, there is no POLIVIA baby in this story.

Olivia sat up in her bed. She blinked and looked bleary-eyed at the clock on her nightstand. Four-thirty in the morning. For whatever reason, her body had decided that this was an appropriate time to wake up. She glanced down at Peter, whose arm was still draped across her waist. He was out cold. She sighed and gently slipped out of bed, so as not to wake him. She silently changed into proper running attire, tied the laces on her sneakers, and closed the door quietly behind her.

When her feet hit the pavement, she let out a heavy breath which released some of the tension she'd been holding onto so tightly. She allowed her mind to wander, but inevitably it began focusing on one subject: the man sleeping somewhat peacefully in her bed. Peter Bishop. Her mind ran through the events of the past four months. Peter's disappearance, her insane drive to get him back, the fearful kiss she'd stolen after she'd told him just how much she needed him, loved him. Then she recalled her captivity. She shuddered, forcing the memory of what that monster had done to her out of her mind. She'd gotten herself out, back to Peter. She was pleased when she came back to find that her alternate self had failed to fool him, even though somewhere deep down she knew that Peter would know. He was like that. She smiled briefly.

As she rounded a street corner she remembered how her alternate self had all of the sudden mysteriously disappeared from DHS protective custody. She was no doubt still in this world, but had not caused any disturbance in the two months that she'd been roaming freely, so to speak, in Olivia's world. Olivia shook her head, forcing her thoughts of her alternate self to scatter. Again her mind focused on Peter. He had apologized profusely upon her return. She could tell he was wracked with guilt. Even though this was not his fault, he still felt responsible. He'd never said as much, but he didn't have to. When she had first returned, it was difficult for her to sleep at night. She was still frightened to some extent over what had happened to her, so she had asked Peter to stay with her. He had eagerly obliged.

It had taken her weeks to get him to actually sleep in her bed. It was almost as though he was afraid to touch her, like he was scared that he would hurt her, or that she might break. Maybe at first she may have, but now she was back to feeling like herself, and she wanted him, sorely. Still, he hadn't made a move past telling her that he loved her, which is most likely why she was out running at five in the morning. Her frustration grew more immensely unbearable with each day and each night that passed without so much as a suggestion to something other than just sleeping in her bed. "Fuck it," she thought, "It is my turn to make a move. His balls are going to be in my court, whether he likes it or not." She turned in the direction of her apartment, and was decidedly going to wake Peter up and give him the righteous fucking he deserved.

She opened the door to her apartment, this time not caring whether or not she woke Peter. Not that it mattered, because there he was, standing in her kitchen, fumbling around with the coffee maker. "Hi," Olivia uttered as her brow furrowed. He was up, showered, and dressed. She checked the clock: 5:37. It was not like Peter to be up and moderately functioning so early. He answered her question before she'd even asked, "Broyles called. We've got a case." Olivia groaned. Fantastic. So much for her sex. Peter smiled at her, "You'd better go get in the shower, he's expecting us within the hour." As she crossed to her bedroom, she muttered mostly to herself, "I wish you'd waited for me." He must've heard her, because he riposted, "Oh, sweetheart, if I'd waited, we'd never be out of that shower in an hour." She glared at him. She was riled up and he was teasing her. It was so unfair. Although, this was the first suggestive thing he'd said to her in a while. Her fierce look softened into a smile, and she laughed softly as she stripped naked and walked slowly, very slowly, into the bathroom. She was teasing him right back. Her skin tingled and grew warm under the intensity of his stare.

After she was dressed, he handed her the keys to her SUV and a travel mug full of coffee. "Thanks," she said in a sultry voice, as she grabbed his collar and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Several seconds later, he pulled back. "Olivia," he said, opening the door, "we have to go." Her teeth clenched and her nostrils flared slightly as she let out an angry breath. There was no way in hell she was going to let him fall asleep tonight without first satisfying her deep desire. She grabbed his hand as they walked down her hall and out of her building to her SUV.

He looked at her as they got into the vehicle. "Are you alright, Dunham?" he asked her hesitantly. "Yeah, fine," she lied. She was far from fine. She would have jumped him right then and there had she thought he would have been receptive. But somewhere in her mind, a voice was telling her that it wasn't a good idea. They both had a sense of responsibility, and a case that was waiting to be explored. He accepted her lie for the moment, deciding that now was not the time to push her buttons. "Do you ever feel sorry for Astrid sometimes?" His question surprised her. The topic was one of the furthest things from her mind right now. "You mean, because she has to stay with your father?" she chuckled slightly as she tried to clarify. "Yeah," he laughed back, "it's not exactly what she signed up for when she joined the bureau." She looked at Peter, answering his question candidly, "To be honest, I don't think she minds. Sometimes, I think she even enjoys it. You know, he's really not that bad." She smiled at Peter. He returned the smile as he shook his head, looking out the window, "No, he's not." "Anyway," Olivia continued, "I've insisted that Broyles give her a raise." They laughed. "Good," Peter stated, "If anyone deserves a raise, she does."