Olivia thinks Peter still has some of whatever drugs Walter gave him in his system. He swore not, but they've come back to Olivia's apartment and he's kissing her. She doesn't have the same excuse. She's barely buzzed. She kisses back. His hands cup her face and they are still kissing.
She says, "This is a bad idea."
He stops immediately. He says, "Okay."
"I have had some bad ideas."
"Bad ideas can be fun," Peter says.
"Yes," she says. She presses against him, pulls at his belt. He lets go of her face and shrugs out of his jacket. He pushes off her blazer.
She says, "We are both wearing too many layers."
"Okay," he says again, stepping back. He takes 90 seconds to get naked, 20 seconds more than her. "You know," he says, "It's not like I haven't seen most of that, but I still enjoy the view a lot."
"You answer the door at night in your underwear. So I've seen most of that, too," Olivia says. He is sitting on the edge of her bed. She straddles his lap and they are kissing again. He holds her waist and pulls her closer, nothing between them. Wherever his hands go, where their skin touches, it's all she feels. His hand is between her legs, his fingers teasing circles and stroking her before pushing two fingers inside her. She licks her hand and gets a satisfying near moan from Peter even before she's holding his hard penis lightly.
The sex is messy, slick wet, and hot. The second time he lies on his back and she lowers herself onto him and they're both louder than she expected. It's been a long while since Olivia came twice in a night. She feels sore in ways she hasn't since John. She likes it.
Peter lies next to her breathing heavy. He says, "I can't stay long, Astrid is already going above and beyond staying with Walter during his undoubtedly gleeful dissection of that parasite they removed from Loeb."
"Bathroom's that way," Olivia says, waving in the general direction.
He rolls briefly on his side, kissing her a last time. A six minute shower and quick redressing later, he's heading out the door.
He texts her "see you tomorrow" two minutes after he leaves.
He is smooth the next morning. He acts like nothing happened. She's grateful. It really was a very bad idea.
Six days later, their eyes meet across the lab while Walter sings an opera. She mouths "bad idea," and Peter nearly smiles back at her.
He knocks on her door two hours later. This time they have sex on her couch. Her legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts again and again. He doesn't move from on top of her after they both finish. He kisses her all over her chest. He leaves a mark on her breast and she hopes circumstances don't force her to beg Walter to go back into the tank again tomorrow.
A week later, he brings food. "I didn't have dinner and I know you didn't have lunch," he says, holding up Indian takeout. "Eat before or after?"
"After," she says, taking off her shirt.
He quickly agrees. He mumbles a joke about eating out before spreading her legs and diving in. His tongue is quickly in the exact right place, the pressure and pace has her loudly appreciative. She comes in a long cresting wave. She feels over done and when he's on top and thrusting in it is very nearly too much. It's perfect.
The Indian food isn't spicy at all. She says, "Don't go to this place again."
"Maybe I like bland food," he says.
"I don't," she says.
Next time is four days later. Then three days after that. After that it's every two or three days. She smiles at him, he comes to her place with food. He mostly gets burgers and fries. "I don't want you to complain again about the food lacking the spicy flavor you love," he says.
She knows Peter has Astrid watch Walter while he's off having sex with her. She feels more than a little guilty. She pulls Astrid aside in the morning. "I know Peter has you helping out, I hope that's okay with you," she says. "If it's too much -"
"It's fine," Astrid says. "I don't mind, Dr. Bishop can be fun. I think Peter and Walter get along better when Peter has a break. Everyone in the lab seems happier." Astrid's smile seems a little too knowing. "Also," she says, "Peter brings me very expensive coffee every time and sometimes a pastry."
"So it works out for you," Olivia says.
"Good good morning, did someone mention pastry?" Walter breezes in.
"Walter," Olivia says, looking away.
"Walter," Astrid says. "You aren't wearing pants. Or underwear."
"Ain't he fun," Peter mutters. He's carrying Walter's missing clothes and, as Astrid said, a latte that isn't in a cup from the cafeteria.
"Peter," Walter says. "The weather is so wonderfully bracing."
"He took off his pants and underwear in the car and just jumped right out. I thought about stopping him and making him put them on or maybe even tackling him to the ground, but I chose instead to walk about ten feet behind him and pretend I don't know him," Peter says. He sounds amused but there's a set of his jaw that says otherwise.
Astrid sips her coffee and says, "Yummy." She turns to Walter. "Dr. Bishop, I am not working with you until you put on pants."
Later in the day, Olivia is oddly alone with Walter while he dissects an eight legged frog with a joyful smile. She says, "Walter, you don't mind when Astrid is with you instead of Peter, right?"
"No, no, not at all. Aster is the one with lovely hair, yes?"
"Yes, that's Astrid," Olivia says.
"She is very pleasant company. And unlike my son, not being followed by frightening men," Walter says. He looks up at her, disturbed. "Do you know who those men are?"
"I do," Olivia says. "You've seen them?"
"Of course," Walter says. His is suddenly irritated. "I am not an idiot nor am I ignorant of my surroundings."
"No," Olivia says. She didn't know Peter's old friends in Boston were disturbing Walter. She's nervous. She stares at the one frog leg that's long and nearly pinkish.
"You should take care of that," Walter says. "I have other things, many other things that I need to be thinking about." Then his irritation is gone and he points at the frog. "I wonder how this would taste if it were fried? A little butter? Probably just like chicken, that is usually the answer."
That night she gives Peter a ride. She says, "Rachel and Ella are staying with me."
"Pick a motel, any motel," he says. He fans his hand out like he has a deck of cards.
"Can you pay? Harris will probably start checking my bank accounts any day now."
Peter nods. "No dirty little secrets visible to everyone's favorite oh-so-charming consultant."
Olivia says, "You aren't."
"I agree, I hate using the word little. Dirty big secret," he says, smiling at her.
"I didn't mean that," she says. "You are not a dirty secret."
"Awesome, let's go back to your place," Peter says. "Come on, Olivia, I'm not upset about it."
"I don't want to go back to my place because you've seen my apartment. It wouldn't be very private," she says. "I'd just prefer -"
"Not to be a Monty Python sketch about sex ed for your darling niece?"
She frowns and pulls into an inexpensive hotel. She says, "Which Monty Python sketch?"
"It's in Meaning of Life, I'm nearly positive," he says. He gets out and goes into the lobby. She sits in the car and thinks about all the ways this is a bad idea. A bad idea she keeps repeating.
She goes with him to the room anyway. She pulls him on top of her on the bed as soon as he closes the door. She's already wet. He's hard, too.
Like he thinks he needs to prove he is indeed a dirty secret, he swears into her ear, only half undresses her before he thrusts inside her, fast and strong. She enjoys it, pulling his hair to bring him closer.
After they are both done, he sits on the bed across from her, taking off his clothes. "Please don't tell Walter we're not using condoms," he says.
"I'm not saying anything to him. And we're fine, I have an IUD, I told you." She moves into his lap. "Walter says he's worried about the men following you."
"Walter is also worried that the tiny microbes in our hotel room will suddenly grow in size and smother us both," Peter says. He runs his hands slowly up and down her thighs, close to touching her between her legs but not there yet.
"Is Walter worried about that because he's seen it?"
"God, I hope not," Peter says. "Fine, bad example, but he's mentally ill. By definition, he's paranoid. He self medicates and hallucinates. Pardon me if I think maybe you shouldn't take his concerns so seriously."
"So no one working for, say, Big Eddie is looking for you?"
His hands still. "That's my problem. Not yours."
She gets off his lap. "You said that but it's been months now. What if Harris finds out?"
"And now we're not even having sex, okay." He gets off the bed and starts getting dressed. "Are you really that worried about Harris or is there something else going on here?"
"I'm sorry, I'm actually worried about the mafioso who's threatening my coworker," she says. She roots around the bed for her underwear. Peter is already fully dressed, arms crossed, staring at her. She finds her underwear but the elastic is stretched out, fabric fraying. She throws them away and get dressed. "I guess we're leaving now."
"I can get a cab," he says.
"Don't be a baby," she says.
He gets in the car, petulantly. She says, "Why are you so angry about this?"
"I said I'd deal with it," he says. "I don't need your help."
"You haven't resolved it at all," she says. "So, since I don't feel like catering to whatever stupid issue you're having; I'm taking care of it."
She hasn't seen that expression of anger in his face before. She's seen him shouting at his father, fuming at him, but this look is new. She doesn't know him as well as she thinks.
She drops him off at his hotel. He doesn't say anything as he gets out of the car.
In the morning, he is pleasant and affable. He acts like nothing happened at all. In the afternoon, she leaves and starts dealing with his problem. She calls him that night. "Get together whatever money you can by Monday night," she says.
He is silent. She can picture his face. He says, "Part of your fixing my problem?" His voice is light.
"Yes," she says. "Do it legally, please."
"As you wish," he says and hangs up.
She doesn't even go into the lab on Friday or Monday so she hasn't seen Peter for four days when she picks him up outside Kresge. He looks blank, which is a step up from his furious silence. He has a briefcase with him, it looks new.
He doesn't say hello and she doesn't try to start a conversation. She really doesn't understand why he's so upset with her. Maybe he isn't, but apparently she can't tell. She tells herself she is doing this to help Walter, to help Peter. She says, "You are not my dirty little secret."
"The way you keep insisting I'm not is very convincing that I am, you get that, right?" He still sounds unconcerned.
"I'm sorry I brought it up," she says.
"Not as much as I am," he says.
She parks outside Big Eddie's house. She strides up the step, her jacket open so her badge and gun are very visible. Peter follows right behind her.
She goes straight to Big Eddie's office. She notes the glares and people reaching for their guns. She notes all of them are looking past her and up. "Nobody likes you here," she says quietly.
He says equally quietly, "It's weird, isn't it? People usually love me."
They are in front of Big Eddie who also looks at Peter with contempt. She says, "You know the FBI and Homeland Security know exactly where I am right now. And that he's with me."
Big Eddie nods. She says, "So here's the money we talked about." She takes the briefcase from Peter and puts it on the desk.
She isn't actually surprised when Big Eddie opens the briefcase and there are stacks of fifties. She estimates it's at least 100,000 dollars. She said legal, she thinks. Peter's not stupid, she thinks.
"This isn't even half," Big Eddie says.
"It's more than half," Peter says. "Exactly how much interest are you charging?"
"It's enough," Olivia says. "Here is your deal. You get some of your money, you leave Peter and his family alone."
"And I'm left alone," Big Eddie says. He stands up. "So we're done. Go."
"My pleasure," Olivia says. She takes Peter by the elbow and they leave.
In the car, Peter says, "You stopped an investigation into Big Eddie for me?"
Olivia smiles. She says, "Yes, the same investigation and secret file we had on you."
"You were bluffing him," Peter says.
"It worked on you, I figured it would work on him, too." She is momentarily very pleased with herself. "Peter, where'd the money come from?"
"Atlantic City, Indian casinos," he says. "I even paid taxes like people who gamble legally do."
"This time your system worked," she says.
"Well," he says, "I'm banned from almost every place I went." He almost smiles.
"They gave you your money and kicked you out," Olivia says.
"They politely asked me not to come back since they couldn't prove I was cheating, because I wasn't. Then I politely went on to the next one," he says. "I owe Astrid something like a three week paid vacation to Tahiti or something. I can't imagine how awful Walter was."
"Did you ask him about the giant microbe thing? Has he tried to do that, does he remember?"
Peter says, "Honestly, I'm afraid to."
"This is nice, talking," she says.
"Were we not talking?" She looks over at him and he has the blank face again.
"Just tell me why this makes you so angry?" Olivia waits for a minute and he doesn't say anything. "Come on, I know you're angry."
He stays silent. She says, "I swear to God, I will pull this car over -"
"Okay," Peter says. "I am not my father. I can and do take care of my own problems."
"You and Walter," Olivia says. "You both have the same complaints, in a way."
"Salt my wounds, why don't you?"
He doesn't talk to her for the rest of the trip. She finds herself glancing at his hands, his thighs. She already misses the sex.
She keeps missing the sex. She doesn't want to keep pursuing her bad ideas. She stays slightly away, stands somewhere to the left of Peter.
Friday, she moves slightly away when she and Peter are alone in the back room. He throws up his hands. "Christ, Dunham, am I that repulsive?"
She puts her hands on her head. She says, "You are the exact opposite of repulsive, Peter."
He says, "I have no idea what that even means. I am too attractive to you?" He looks at her, definitely angry. "Is there any way for you to explain this that isn't insulting to me?"
"I'm not insulting you," she says. "I don't like that you feel like some nasty secret. I like you. I like having sex with you."
"I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to be sleeping with your consultants, which I assume is why you and I were private. That's not really nasty or dirty," he says. "That's you giving a damn about your career. I have no career right now besides babysitter so I don't care either way."
"You are more than a babysitter," she says.
"What exactly are we arguing about here?"
"I thought you were not happy with our arrangement or with me," Olivia says.
"You thought wrong," he says. "Though I am willing to admit I am probably sometimes difficult to read. But I don't try to make it hard with you."
"Okay," she says. "I feel like we're clear now. So I have to say, you don't just owe Astrid a vacation in Tahiti."
"You want one, too?" He sits down, legs long, hands dangling. "I didn't save that much money from my gambling spree. Hell, I didn't even save enough to send Astrid out of the country. I got her a spa weekend."
"I would love a massage," she says.
"Duly noted," he says.
"Also, I don't know if you have plans tonight -"
He smirks. "I don't have plans right now."
"In the lab," she says.
"Walter is back at the hotel, passed out. Astrid is enjoying her free Friday afternoon somewhere that is far away from Walter. Doors are locked." He trails off. "I hope I've convinced you that the reasons for keeping this private are not inherently dirty but that doesn't mean we can't add some naughtiness in."
"It's definitely not right to do it here," she says. She is already taking off her blazer.
"I would not advise doing it out in the lab area because God only knows what horrible experiments and concoctions and chemicals Walter has lurking out there. But this room should be okay," he says. He takes off his sweater and starts unbuttoning his shirt.
She sits down in a chair across from him and takes off her boots. She takes off her shirt and her bra. She stands up, slips down her pants and underwear and steps out of them. She is standing between his legs and he is naked as well. He reaches out and holds her waist, then runs his hands down to hold her ass. He says, "My favorite part of your outfit is that you left your socks on."
"So did you," she says, sinking down into his lap. "It's cold in here." She holds his face and kisses him. She could spend all day kissing him. She isn't cold anymore. He kisses her neck, pulls her up so he can put his mouth on her breast. He grips her butt with one hand while the other hand squeezes her other breast. She moans a little in appreciation. She holds his head, says, "More."
She says, "Peter," as he licks and fondles her breasts. She's sweating, gasping out meaningless noises. Now his mouth is on her other breast and she feels her heart pounding. She manages to say "please" though she's not sure what she's asking for.
He holds her waist again and she moves so she can lower herself onto him. "This chair is not the best for this," he mumbles. She moves again and in one breath pushes down while he rises to meet her. She is still for a moment, getting herself used to him inside her again. Then they both move, her down and him up and everything speeds up. She can't keep her head up. She could live forever in this second or the next or the next, and then she comes, scratching his ribs and moaning.
He keeps thrusting up for another few beats until he shudders and is done. She kisses him again for another little while until both of them are ready to move again.
She stands up and goes to the bathroom to clean up. They are both slowly getting dressed when Olivia's phone rings. "Oh, god," she says.
"Hi, Charlie," she says.
"Are you at the lab? I tried knocking," he says.
"Oh, yes, Peter and I are in the back, we didn't hear you," she says. "Gimme a second, I had actually fallen asleep." Peter buttons up her shirt while she zips up her pants. She doesn't bother with her blazer or her shoes as she walks towards the door to let Charlie in.
"Hey," she says.
"I got a sample of that thing," Charlie says. "Thing? Foam? What are we calling it?"
"I don't know what it is, either," she says. "Walter's back at the hotel, but Peter can look at it."
"Give me the foam thing monster sample," Peter says, behind her. He has his shoes on and looks nearly normal. Totally normal, maybe.
Charlie hands it over and Peter sits down at the table, getting to work. Charlie says, "Liv, can we talk?"
"Of course," she says, leading him back towards the front door. She is going to get the lecture now, the stop sleeping with your coworkers speech she so richly deserves. Charlie is disappointed with her, she is sure. He should be, she thinks.
Charlie says, "Peter paid for Astrid's weekend away?"
"Yeah," she says. "He felt like he owed her after she took care of Walter."
"Was that the weekend he got tossed from 6 casinos?"
She says, "Yes. He was getting the money for the Big Eddie deal."
"And that's now taken care of?" Charlie leans against the door. "Cause if Harris finds out…"
"I know," Olivia says. "It's taken care of."
"Good," Charlie says. "Good. Alright, I'll see you later."
"Good to see you, Charlie," she says.
Peter says, "Bye, Charlie," as Charlie leaves.
She is sitting quietly in her apartment, thinking about what Nina Sharp said. She would prefer to not think about it. She knows she needs to. Maybe she needs to. So she hears the quiet knock and quickly gets up.
It's Peter. She steps out into the hallway and closes the door behind her. He grins like she hasn't seen since they first started fucking. "You had a drink or five," she says.
"I did," he says. He leans in and kisses her, his hands on her face.
She says, "You had whiskey."
"I did," he says. Kisses again. "You should have come."
She says, "Jones disappeared. And Nina Sharp called. I could have been in cortexiphan study."
"Wow," Peter says. "What do you think about that?"
"I haven't decided that," she says. She leans her head into his warm solid hands.
"I think," he says. He screws up his face and looks like a four year old concentrating very hard. "I think that is more evidence for you being the reason all those lights went out. And us being alive."
"Now I really don't want to think about it," she says. She kisses him.
"Let's go somewhere and make out," he says, grinning again. "You can take a break from thinking."
"Do you?"
"Not really," he says. No childish smile this time. "But I think less when I'm drunk and making out with beautiful women."
"Let me get my keys," she says. She ducks back into the apartment. Rachel is standing in the dark, smirking. "I didn't mean to wake you up."
"You didn't," she says.
"I'll be right back," Olivia says. "Just an hour or two."
"Take as long as you need," Rachel says. "With your booty call."
"It isn't," Olivia says, as she leaves.
It totally is, she thinks. She drives them to a cheap motel. Peter is a happy drunk. He kisses her breasts, her ribs, her belly button. She is close to giggling at each one. She is pretty sure he is humming against her skin. It's hilarious, until she's wet and wanting. She pushes his head down to between her spread legs. She says his name.
He still seems giddy as he licks and teases her to even higher heights. Her back arches and she pushes herself onto his face. She closes her eyes and comes. He crawls up on top of her. He says, "I was gonna make a joke about flicking your switch but I forgot."
She laughs out loud. He says, "You're so pretty when you laugh." He kisses her over and over again while he fucks her.
He's like a puppy, she thinks, as he rests his head on her shoulder. She says, "Don't fall asleep on me, I'll leave you here."
He sits up suddenly and groans. "I think my hangover is already starting."
"Then let's go. I don't want you throwing up in my car."
They're about 3 blocks from his hotel when they spot Walter. "Oh, fuck," Peter says. "At least he has his clothes on." Olivia stops the car. Peter says, "You can drop me off here."
"My pleasure," she says. She thinks for a second he is going to kiss her goodbye, but he just leans in and winks before he gets out.
"Peter," Walter says. "Peter, I was looking for you. I was thinking about the manifesto -"
"Bye, Walter," she says, pulling away. She was distracted, she had been thinking less. But she saw Walter and now she is back to an irrational back and forth in her head. Did she turn off the lights, how did she do it, did she do it, was there really cortexiphan in her system, did Walter do this to her? She has no idea.
As soon as she opens the door, Rachel is walking up to her with a glass of wine. "So who's the booty call?" Rachel hands her the glass and looks her up and down. "I can tell it was a good booty call."
"I'm not talking to you about this, Rachel," Olivia says. She drinks the wine and hands the glass back to Rachel.
"Who was it? Come on, Liv," Rachel says. "Is it Peter?"
"Rachel," Olivia says. "I'm going to bed now."
Rachel says, "Tall, not a jerk, good with kids, Peter is a good booty call."
"Please stop saying booty call," Olivia says.
"Can I say boyfriend?"
"No, you can not say boyfriend, I do not have a boyfriend," Olivia says.
"You should make Peter your boyfriend," Rachel says.
"Going to bed," Olivia says and gently nudges Rachel back to hers.
Two nights later, she dreams about Peter. He is naked, lying on his stomach. He has some of sort tattoo on his lower back and she realizes that tattoo means he's dead. When she touches him, his skin is cold and clammy. She tries to rub off the tattoo but it isn't working. She wakes up with a start.
She wonders if her magic cortexiphan powers include dreams that tell the future. It seems as ridiculous as anything else she can imagine. She wants to call Peter. Which is really ridiculous.
She picks up her phone and calls him. "Dunham," he says. "What weird mutated bullshit do we need to investigate now?"
"None," she says. "I couldn't sleep."
"So you thought you would make sure I couldn't sleep," he says.
"I had a dream about you. You had a really ugly tattoo above your butt," she says. She's laughing at herself, like she has powers to see the future.
"I had a tramp stamp," he says. "That is a dream. As you know, I do not have a tattoo."
"Couldn't think of what you wanted?"
"Never wanted one," he says. "Too permanent."
"Nothing permanent for Peter Bishop," she says.
"I can change," he says. "I've had this job for a long time for me."
"So maybe you will get a tramp stamp," she says.
"I'll take you with me so I don't choose something ugly," he says. "Can I go back to sleep now?"
"Sorry," she says. "Yes, go back to sleep. Dream about what tattoo to get."
They say good night and she lays back in her bed.
A week later, she is driving Peter and Walter to their newest corpses. Peter and Walter are fighting and she has stopped paying attention. She usually listens. She usually pays attention. This morning she is thinking about the sweet little bald boy, about Jones, worrying about Rachel and Ella, was she treated with Cortexiphan, what does that even mean.
They arrive at the crime scene. Peter says, "Thank God," and gets out immediately. Olivia gets out and walks towards the crime tape with Walter.
"You must understand," Walter says. "My son -"
"Walter," she says. "I wasn't listening. I'm sorry, I don't care."
"I simply wanted to warn you that my son woke up in this foul mood, he is having a little snit fit. I apologize for his behaviour."
"Okay," she says. She walks straight to her constant beacon of sanity. "Charlie, please, drive the Bishops home."
Charlie chuckles right in her face. "No way," he says. They watch Peter and Walter snipe at each other over the four bodies and their grotesque injuries. "What happened to their car?"
"I think Walter totaled it last night," Olivia says. "I tuned out most of the argument."
Charlie takes a phone call and then says, "I've got the address of the doc's office, we need to pick up his files."
"That doctor?" Peter points at the least horrific corpse. "Who are these three?"
"His patients," Charlie says.
"I'll go with you to get the files," Peter says, walking quickly away from Walter.
"Great idea," Olivia says, smirking at Charlie.
After she finishes arranging for the corpses to be sent to Harvard, she has to drive Walter to the lab. He says, "I did not total the car. Nothing of the sort."
"Peter said it was at the garage?" She kicks herself for saying it.
"Please, it was minor damage, simple body work. Nothing broken in the engine. Peter is upset because he can't fix it himself," Walter says.
"You really think that?" She has to stop talking.
Walter hmphs and reaches for the radio. He lights on a pop music station and enthusiastically sings along to Britney Spears and Taylor Swift. It's slightly less irritating than he and Peter shouting at each other.
Walter hums-sings Womanizer for the next hour as he works on the autopsies.
Peter comes back with two boxes and a laptop. He gives Astrid the laptop and walks the boxes to the back. He says to Olivia, "Wanna share?"
"Oh, look, my son is back," Walter says, with an edge in his voice.
"Yes, I am," Peter says, calmly. He keeps walking and Olivia trails after him.
They divide up the files. She says, "Walter says you woke up in a foul mood."
"I'm sure he thinks that," he says. "By the way, Charlie knows. About us."
"Oh no," Olivia says. She winces.
"Don't worry, he doesn't think less of you," Peter says.
"Am I that obvious?" She is still wincing.
"To Charlie, who knows you incredibly well, I guess you are. But I don't think Broyles knows when you're getting laid with the same accuracy if that's what you're worried about," Peter says.
Olivia sighs. She looks at him, flipping through the file. She says, "Is Walter wrong that you woke up in a bad mood?"
Peter is silent for a few minutes. She assumes he won't answer. Then he says, "Walter is not wrong."
"Did you sleep badly?" She seems to have forgotten how to sleep through the night.
He says, "No." He rubs his forehead and stays silent for another few minutes. She reads through one of the doctor's files and sets it aside.
She says, "You don't have to tell me."
"Fine," he says. "The one time Walter and I spoke while he was in St. Claire's was when he called to tell me my mother had died. I didn't even go home for the funeral. I was in Europe."
"I'm sorry," she says. She thinks how Rachel is always sad on the day their mother died. Olivia isn't. By the end, her mother was in so much pain, Olivia wasn't sad when she was finally free.
She says, "Did you talk to Charlie about that?"
Peter looks at her, no longer quite as cranky. "No."
"I've met both of Charlie's parents," Olivia says. "They're very nice." She thinks she is not handling this well.
"He's the nicest of our merry band of freaks," Peter says.
"I think that's Astrid, actually," she says.
"You should be sleeping with her," Peter says.
"I don't think Astrid would date someone as dysfunctional as me," Olivia says.
"She is the sanest of our merry band," Peter says.
She smiles at him and feels awkward. She's an ass who says did you talk to Charlie about that.
She means to apologize later, but she forgets. He's on top of her at the motel and she is thinking about how she likes pushing him around. She even says it out loud and he laughs. Then she isn't thinking at all.
He says, "You were very loud there," as he gets dressed.
"I really like pushing you around," she says, putting on her shoes. "I'll drop you off at the garage and you can drive home from there."
The next morning Walter has nailed down which altered piece of equipment caused the doctor and his patients to perish. Olivia calls Charlie about tracing the manufacturers. Then she walks over to Peter and gives him with her present. "I got this for you," she says. "I got it for me, first, but I thought you'd like it. I think I wasn't, um, I feel like you told me something personal and I reacted badly."
Peter picks up the DVD. "So you got me a used DVD we talked about during one of our worst and thankfully rare fights?"
"I didn't say I was good at this," Olivia says.
Walter drifts by and takes the DVD from Peter's hand. "Monty Python and the Meaning of Life. I don't think I've seen this one. You know back in 1973, Belly and I were in London and I swear we took LSD with some of these men. But I never remember which. I know one of them was very tall. And had very English teeth. Horrendous bad breath. But he was hilarious, even when he morphed into a talking gila monster. Are we going to watch this tonight, Peter?"
Olivia is sure Peter looks disappointed. At Walter butting in? Peter says, "Of course, I'd love to watch a movie with you that was given to me personally."
"Good, it's decided," Walter says.
"Thank you, Olivia, apology accepted," he says. He adds quietly, "You really have nothing to apologize for."
The next morning, Olivia and Charlie arrest the rogue factory manager and two of his employees. Most of the equipment goes back to Walter, so she drives over to the lab to check that he's gotten it. Walter sees her and says, "Olivia. I greatly enjoyed that movie last night. Quite funny. And Peter told me which scene reminded you of our work here and I have to say, I completely agree."
"Walter says the fat man exploding has to be a fringe event, because that would never happen naturally," Peter says.
"It would have to be some sort of drug or bomb - you can not eat so much you explode. And you can not judge a person's health by their weight given metabolism, nutrition, and a host of other factors. It was definitely some sort of drug someone slipped into that mint," Walter says.
"He spent the rest of the movie trying to determine which drug," Peter says. "It was definitely the viewing experience I was looking forward to."
"I like Life of Brian better," Astrid says. She starts singing Always Look on the Bright Side of Life. She has a lovely voice. Walter starts singing along. Olivia and Peter get a mini-concert.
Peter claps when they're finished. "Resolved: Astrid should sing more often."
"Agreed," Olivia says.
"Absolutely agreed," Walter says.
"Thank you," Astrid says.
Days pass. Charlie is struck by the monster and Walter tries to sacrifice himself. She drives Charlie home after Walter clears him. She says, "I'm glad you're not pregnant, anymore."
"Me, too," Charlie says.
"So you know I'm sleeping with Peter," she says.
"Yup," he says.
"And you really don't think less of me?"
"Should I?" Charlie says, "Liv, you weren't wrong about John. I know there's no proof, but you know and I know. I trust you."
"Peter is mostly a good guy," Olivia says.
"He is when he's working for you," Charlie says.
They have more cases.
One night, they are in another cheap motel. Olivia's back is against the wall, her legs around his waist. He is holding her up and every thrust is a another thump against the wall. She is getting closer and closer, so close to coming, and then someone bangs on the other side of the wall.
Peter says, loudly, "It's a by the hour motel, what do you expect?"
She laughs and comes, banging her head against the wall as she does. She says, "It's not by the hour actually."
"Close enough," Peter says. He comes and they slowly disengage.
Their neighbor yells, "Do it on the fucking bed."
"The bed is disgusting," Peter says to the wall.
Olivia runs a quick shower and starts to get dressed. "How are you sleeping," Peter says.
"Fine," Olivia says.
"Liar," he says.
"Fine, I've been sleeping badly the last few weeks," Olivia says.
"Would it help if I snuggled up next to you?" He has a serious face and an insincere voice.
"We can try, if you want," she says, standing up.
Peter says, "I will happily lay down next to you after we sneak by Rachel and Ella, until you fall asleep, then I am showering and heading home. Because the shower here is also disgusting."
"We should be able to sneak around," Olivia says. She's not sure why she offered but she wouldn't mind seeing if she slept better next to him. She'd try anything short of actually admitting she has a problem.
They manage to get to her room without waking anyone up and she gets in bed while Peter showers. "Be my body pillow," she says.
"Of course," he says.
She dreams of a woman singing. Olivia pushes her in front of the subway train. She wakes with a start. Peter is still there, his arm across her chest. He says, "Fuck, fuck."
"Are you okay?" He touches her cheek.
She says, "Just a nightmare. A very vivid nightmare. You were going to leave."
"I know," he says. "Fuck, I hope Walter hasn't woken up and walked to Connecticut for maple pancakes or something." He sits up but doesn't get out of bed. "But tell me you're really okay."
"Yeah," she says. "Go home."
He kisses her and leaves. She works out, gets dressed, makes a whole pot of coffee. In the morning, Rachel says, "Was that Peter, your not boyfriend, leaving this morning?"
"He is not my boyfriend," Olivia says.
"But you are sleeping with him," Rachel says, grinning. "Trust me, I'm thrilled."
They start talking about coffee and Olivia sees the woman she killed on the news.
She goes straight to the lab and Walter takes her seriously, while Peter is insistent it's just a bad dream. They go together to New York City. They come home with the security footage. She buys caffeine pills. She gets to her apartment and Peter is waiting for her. "Rachel let me in," he says. "She's totally stopped flirting with me, am I getting less attractive?"
"She knows about us," Olivia said.
"An alternate explanation I can accept," he says.
She sits on the couch next to him, looking through files to stay awake. She sits back to close her eyes for just one second and Peter puts his arm around her. She dreams again, kills again.
She wakes up and tells Peter. She talks to a woman who calls herself Mouse. She falls apart, again, in Peter's arms.
They go to the restaurant, they find Nick Lane. They talk to someone at St. Jude's. It's much nicer than St. Claire's. She doesn't say that to Peter.
They talk to Walter about cortexiphan. He says things like summer camp, buddy systems. Peter is ready to strangle his father. Olivia doesn't know how she feels. Peter says, "What is wrong with you?" His voice is calm but absolutely furious.
Walter says, "I suppose many things, but I think I know how we can find Nick Lane."
She is hypnotized. They find Nick's apartment and all the clippings on the wall. She looks at his closet and sees something like her own. She goes up on the roof. He calls her Olive. She can't remember the last time someone called her Olive. She shoots him in the leg.
Later, Charlie brings her all the clippings for her to look at. Peter knocks on her door two hours later. She says, "I can't tonight."
"I don't want to tonight," Peter says. "I came to give you this, sorry it's overdue."
She opens the envelope. "Hotel reservation for tomorrow night. And a massage. Thank you," she says. She hugs him and breathes in, feeling safe for once. "You didn't have to."
"You kept saying I did have to," Peter says. "I had to save up from the magnanimous salary as a consultant to add to the small amount I had left from your buying off Big Eddie. But don't worry, you can tip very generously, it's part of the budget."
She looks at his face, the red in his eyes. "Did you sleep badly? You look like me."
He breathes out, his face slightly relaxed. He says, "I have nightmares sometimes."
"Like tonight?"
"Yes," he says. "I had night terrors for years and years growing up. Thanks to Walter, I never remembered them. But now sometimes I do."
She says, "Come in and sleep here."
"You know I can't," he says. "Much as I might want to, my father can't be trusted not to wake up and follow one of his vivid hallucinations or incredibly specific food cravings out the door to Tennessee." She is still in his arms and it's nothing for her to look up and him to look down and they kiss.
She says, "What did you remember?"
"I was drowning," he says. "The water was ice cold. It's probably a flashback or something to that time Walter crashed the car and the Observer saved us. But that doesn't make it less terrifying." He lets her go and backs up. "Anyway, you have your hotel room tomorrow night. All to yourself."
She thinks about stepping forward but she doesn't. She says, "Thank you again."