Fever
The doors sealed shut behind Agent Olivia Dunham's back. The bolt locking back into place seemed to echo in the empty room louder then physically possible. Olivia turned to offer a quick smile of reassurance over her shoulder to Walter and Astrid through the thick Plexiglas of the CDC's containment shield over the buildings' entrance. Astrid's face was grim her hands clasped before her chest in gesture of silent prayer.
Walter's face was almost blank; Olivia recognized that expression, having witnessed the same carefully blank control cross Peter's face numerous times. Helplessness and Panic. 'Livia quickly turned back to the crisis at hand.
Right. Simple really. She had to get to the climate control systems in the basement of the office building and return power to the air ventilation system allowing the sedative to be circulated throughout the building's air and averting a catastrophe.
In a building full of people driven into a blind frenzy to escape because of a prehistoric virus piggybacked into the modern world by a greedy oil tycoon.
Before the CDC released their hellhounds with big guns and no regard for human life to kill everyone in the building.
Piece of cake. No pressure.
Peter was in the building. And now so was she, if she didn't make it in time… But no she refused to think like that.
Starting towards the direction indicated on the blueprint she'd been provided Olivia tried hard not to think about how close they had already come to loosing Peter today. What the hell had he been thinking trying to rush the security guards to exit the building?
But then he hadn't been thinking had he?
He had already lost control of at least part of his higher thinking to the thing inside him. Its desire to spread itself overriding what Olivia knew Peter's natural reaction in such a situation would have been; to protect everyone, including her by sequestering himself inside the building and not coming anywhere near another living being.
Peters maniac expression through the window flashed again through Olivia's mind and she wondered if perhaps this wasn't all for nothing anyway. Perhaps his mind was already completely under the virus's control, his brilliant mind, pure genius even under the virus's influence; No. Olivia corrected herself mentally; Because of it.
Peter had tricked them into thinking he wasn't infected, in a matter of seconds jeopardizing everything.
Even if Walter did find a cure; a vaccine for the virus, had Peter's brain been damaged beyond repair? Olivia's mind couldn't help but call up the multiple eccentricities and shear insanity of Peter's brilliant father Walter; whose mind was completely and irrevocably shattered beyond repair.
Was it possible that madness in this family of geniuses simply ran too close to the surface and that was what had driven Peter over the edge? A weaker hosts? Easier Prey? A stronger weapon with which to distribute itself over a greater populace.
His blood shot eyes, rage reddened face as he locked his gaze on her, Pure Fury and…Hatred in his eyes. She'd felt fear for the first time looking at him, Fear of him as much as for him. He looked nothing like her Peter in that instant, He was a complete stranger, and a mad man.
Her Peter?
Olivia would have slapped herself if she'd been in the privacy of her own home. How utterly ridiculous, Peter wasn't Her Anything. And if she didn't hurry up neither of them was going to be functioning on ANY level long enough for her to properly chastise herself for such a ridiculous slip; even if it had only been in her mind.
Olivia was turning the corner to another set of stairs following the blueprints in her hand when a body slammed into her from behind at a dead run, the impact slamming her into the wall. Olivia's self preservation instinct, combined with her FBI combat training had her lashing out at her attacker with her foot and fist while reaching for her gun even as she tumbled to the ground.
Olivia felt a grim satisfaction as her assailant let out a roar of pain and fury her foot connecting with his knee, and her fist hit what felt like the side of someone's face; just a glancing blow before the hard concrete floor of the underground labyrinth of the basement connected hard with her shoulder and head to send blinding shots of white pain across her vision. All thoughts momentarily eclipsed by the searing pain, Olivia was powerless to stop her attacker from pouncing on her as she struggled to force her own limbs to listen.
Still trying to shake off the impact and still wrestling her Glock from it's holster Olivia pushed at her attacker desperate to gain the upper hand before she could be pinned completely under her obviously heavier opponent. Olivia tried to roll her body to free her gun and was instantly trapped as her attacker shifted his weight to her torso her body pinned almost faced down to the cold concrete, one hand trapped beneath her the other pushing uselessly up against the weight on her back.
"Liiivia!"
Olivia felt her blood run cold. No, this could not be Peter. Peter would never attack her.
Not your Peter….Her mind reminded her with a sinking feeling Olivia remembered the insane rage on Peter's face through the glass window….He's Not your Peter…
"You left me in here! You left me Livia!" Peter shook her like a ragdoll his large roughly calloused hands on her shoulders. His breath hissing in her ear hot, and livid with betrayal.
"How could you let them do that to me?" He shook her again and Olivia struggled with her foggy brain for a response.
"Peter, you're sick, but we have a cure, Walter has a cure, you have to let me up," Olivia swallowed her throat suddenly dry, fear gripped her stomach trembled along her arms and legs breath coming faster.
You have to Get up Olivia, Act, Move, Do Something!
Could she get away from Peter long enough to reach to room at end of the hall? If it came to a physical altercation Olivia knew she would be in trouble despite her training. She didn't want to hurt Peter, but as his hands tightened painfully on her she wondered if Peter was in control enough to offer her the same consideration. Would she have to…her mind stumbled over the thought, could she shoot Peter if it came to that?
It wouldn't come to that she'd get them out of this. "Peter, let me up, I have to fix something so that they can cure us, they can't come in until I do.."
"That's BULLSHIT Livia! There is no cure, the left us in here to DIE! You LEFT ME!" Olivia winced at the venom in his voice, if he squeezed her shoulders any tighter he might break something. She knew she would already sport multiple bruises tomorrow on her forehead, hip and shoulders from her tumble and where his fingers were digging into her flesh; if she lived to see tomorrow that is.
"Livia answer me!" His voice hissed in her ear, his warm breath sending shivers that had nothing to do with the fear coiled inside her straight to the pit of her stomach. She felt her muscles tense with an all new awareness how close he was. Peter had pinned her to the cold floor with the length of his body. His fever heated skin radiating flames of heat that poured right through her clothes to lick at the fear slicked skin of her back and thighs, his breath ragged and uneven bringing his chest into contact with her upper back every few seconds. She'd never allowed herself to be this close to him. Ever. It was a matter of professional courtesy as well as an act of self preservation.
Peter Bishop was dangerous. And not just because he was infected with a deadly virus and had her momentarily pinned to the floor her hands trapped useless below her , completely at he mercy of a temporary madman.
Oh no, Peter Bishop had been dangerous from the moment she'd first laid eyes on him.
Trouble with a capital T. He'd been Sex incarnate. Pure temptation. A feast for the senses.
A strappingly boyish and yet simultaneously rugged six foot, blue eyed perpetually tussled haired, smart mouth. As if that wasn't enough he'd also been fully armed to the teeth with a genius IQ and enough random tidbits of both intelligence and skill to keep her constantly not only off balance around him; but continually impressed.
Dangerous.
And he hadn't gotten any less dangerous to her senses or common sense as time went on.
Neither Bishop did anything half way and something about Peter Bishop made him want to court the impossible; flirt with disaster, push the envelope…he certainly seemed to take great joy in pushing her buttons. All of them, Even the one's she'd thought she'd put away for good after her disastrous affair with her partner.
But no Peter was always stirring things up and launching assaults on Olivia's delicate equilibrium and sense of right and wrong, ever challenging her to not just believe blindly in something but to know it; understand it, to defend her ideas and thoughts with the same conviction he gave his own.
The devilish quirk that touched the corners of his mouth when he'd pushed her into a mental corner and watched her fight her way back to the center ring was both intriguing and irritating.
Olivia had fanaticized about kissing that grin right off his face almost as many times as she'd entertained the idea of slapping him.
The way he invaded her space, leaning just a little too close. Sitting just a hairsbreadth from her side when no one was looking casually brushing his thigh against hers. Leaning so that when they talked his breath ghosted over her neck to leave Goosebumps against her skin was Dangerous
The lingering glances, and the coy smile he flashed her instead of having the decency to just look away in sensible embarrassment as Olivia would have done had he caught her looking at him that way.
Because that way, that Look, was Dangerous. You weren't supposed to look at your partner like you were wondering how she would taste.
"Livia I don't think you're listening to me," Peter's whole body seemed to press against hers and Olivia found it suddenly very difficult to breathe. Even more so when Peter's right hand released her shoulder to slide around her chest pulling her tinier frame flush against his. She found her breath coming out in harsh gasps had found the rhythm of Peter's breathing and was now mimicking it perfectly.
In and out in perfect rhythm minutes seemed to crawl, it felt to Olivia they lay there perfectly still for hours afraid to move, afraid to react, while simultaneously; terrifyingly aware of the seconds sliding away into minutes, of time closing in.
But still she lay there, just breathing, until she felt the heat of Peter's mouth envelope her ear and her breath caught in her throat nearly choking her.
She had to talk her way out of this. FAST.
"Peter..." No good, it came out as more of a moan then she'd intended. Olivia tried to swallow and start again. "Peter, you have to stop, you have to listen to me"
"No Livia, I always listen to you, I always do what you want." His words tickled along her neck his hot breath raising Goosebumps all the way down her spine as heat coiled hotter in the pit of her stomach.
"Peter, you're not well" His tongue began to follow a path from her earlobe down her delicate neckline, stopping just above the base of her neck to dip his tongue into the little hollow above her clavicle bringing a gasp to her breath that shouldn't have been there.
"Listening to you gets us nowhere,"
"Peter," Olivia had to close her eyes to try and collect her mangled thoughts when his right hand joined in the assault on her overtaxed senses, apparently no longer content to simply hold her body firmly against his own. He began instead tracing the outline of her breast through her button down blouse and the silky cup of her bra.
"Olivia," He was mocking her, she was sure of it. And she had to fight to remember why that was important when his mouth descended on her neck and earlobe again his tongue tracing a senselessly maddening pattern across her skin, nipping with his teeth against her then working his way back towards her jaw. He made an irritated sound of frustration at her apparent lack of response and quickly moved his left hand to turn her face to meet his own.
Olivia's brightened and startled eyes meet Peter's brilliantly blue and feverish gaze. His eyes traveled from her gaze down to her lips, and she had only a moment more to react before his mouth descended on hers in a crushing, mind numbing kiss.
His mouth and hands seemed to be everywhere. Nipping, then sucking, caressing and teasing. His right hand momentarily abandoning its quest to memorize her pert breasts after rolling her now embarrassingly taught nipple between his fingers once more, even through the silken material of her shirt and bra.
His expert fingers found the clasp of her suit pants and with a deft tug popped the clasp loose possibly from the material itself in his hast to free more flesh for his questing fingers.
His tongue requested entrance to her mouth in a way that left her no room for argument, and little air left to breathe. Dizzy with lack of oxygen and too many sensations coursing through her muddled brain Olivia gasped when Peter finally pulled back moments later to tease her bottom lip between his teeth.
"Peter, Jesus. Stop, you can't…we can't…" Her words died in her throat a second later as Peter thrust his hips down into hers, pressing the length of his impressive hard on against her backside. Peter's fingers dipped beneath the open waistband of her ruined wardrobe and into her panties moments later to cup her hot, wet core.
A moan ripped from Olivia's throat and her forehead dropped to the still cool patch of cement beneath her, gasping for air as she tried to protest again, hips unconsciously rocking up and away from the cement; pressing his length more firmly against her and simultaneously allowing his hand enough room to curl one finger into her moist heat. "Jesus, Peter! Oh god. Stop!"
"Shut Up Livia." Peter grasped her shoulder in his hand and in less time then she'd though possible had her body flipped, backside now firmly pressed to the warm patch of cement flooring, her legs parted around his hips as he ground down into her, his hands running down the length of her body and under her shirt to flit across the flat taught skin of her belly.
His mouth dropped to devour hers again, tongue invading her mouth in a deliberate parody of the rhythm his hips were grinding into hers.
Jesus. She was going to pass out. She was going to die right here on this floor and not even care.
Peter's hands found the edges of her shirt, having decided that it was in his way his hands gave the offending article a vicious yank ripping cloth and scattering buttons across the hallway. Leaving Olivia's chest and abdomen bare for his exploring hands and mouth which immediately consumed the tip of one of her rosy pink nipples peeking over the fabric of her bra having shifted to offer her almost no modest covering. Not that Olivia cared the second Peter's hot mouth closed over her already pebbled nipple and began to lap at its sensitive peak with his tongue.
Her hands went from shoving at his shoulders half-heartedly to running through his hair and clutching him to her. Moans of protest began to sound more and more like his name, with a course of rasping breaths and a plea not to stop.
Peter's hands tugged roughly at the waistband of Olivia's slacks tugging them slowly millimeter by millimeter over her narrow hips as the zipper gave way. Halfway over her hips he seemed to abandon the idea of taking them off completely in lou of thrusting his fingers under the silken edge of her panties and back into her body, curling his fingers against her and inside her in a frenzied pattern that arched her back and bucked her hips forward. Her hands clutched at his neck and back as she gasped his name before dropping to grasp at his own pants. She was desperate to feel his length in her hand, against her skin, sliding along her sex.
God she needed, wanted it like she'd never wanted anything before in her life, she was going to go mad if she didn't find a way to replace Peter's fingers with the length of his erection, still trapped in his vintage faded jeans. A whimpering plead left her lips just as she managed to undo the button on his jeans, and slide his zipper down enough to reach her hand inside his usually loose fitting denim, there was barely enough room for her hand now as she grasped Peter's length and stroked him from base to tip still encased in his jeans. He let out a hiss of pleasure against her skin and ran his teeth over the nipple he'd been lapping at moments before bringing a groan from her lips and an almost reflexive squeeze of her hand around his shaft.
Olivia brought her second hand into the picture trying to shimmy Peter's jeans out of the way enough to release his erection, and silently thanked God he wasn't wearing any boxers to get in her way. She wasn't sure she had the mental capacity left to handle that too.
Stroking his length firmly in her hand Olivia grasped the wrist of Peter's still pumping fingers with her other and with a quick pump of her hand down his length began pulling him towards her entrance. Not even bothering to remove her now soaked panties, Peter's fingers hooked through them pulling aside enough material to press the head of his impressive, twitching length against her entrance. She let out a gasping moan when she felt his shaft sliding along her slick lips, tantalizingly close to where she wanted him so badly, needed him so badly.
God she was so ready, so wet, so empty, she needed this more then she'd ever needed anything in her life, more than air. And judging by the hisses and groans Peter was making so did he.
"God Olivia, Oh God you feel so, so good." Peter's hand clasped around her neck holding their sweat glistening foreheads together as he meet her now equally feverish eyes. "God I wanted this, I wanted this so badly, you left me, God you left me,"
Olivia's hands smoothed up under his shirt covered back smoothing down his burning hot skin, "I'm Here, I didn't leave you, I came back," he thrust slowly forward a scant millimeter and the air left her lungs in a rush. "Oh God, Peter, Jesus, please I need you to… Oh god," he thrust forward again sliding his head along her soaked and swollen folds in a delicious torture sure to drive her more insane then Walter had ever been.
And then he was sliding inside her folds, entering her inch by precious inch, with maddening slowness, and control that neither of them should have had. Olivia bucked and writhed beneath him trying to drive him further inside of her, clawing at his clothes and back gasping and moaning as he pulled back and thrust slowly further and further in an achingly slow possession of her body.
She couldn't take it, she was going to go insane, and then suddenly with a deep thrust and a cry he was buried inside her to the hilt gasping for air, clutching her to him as he began to rock into her body in a renewed frenzy his hips crushing hers beneath him, hands clutching her to his chest, groping her hips, her side, moaning her name like a mantra that would save him from death.
God he barely fit inside her tight perfect little body, filling her to the point of almost-uncomfortable. Olivia could barely remember to breath his body moving inside her own in a perfect rhythm.
Wrapping her arms around Peter's neck Olivia could suddenly hear her wrist watch beeping frantically in alarm over the sound of her own breathing and Peter's.
She struggled for a foggy sex induced moment to remember why that was important, as Peter dipped his head to take her nipple back into his wet mouth she saw the air conditioning vent in the ceiling overhead.
God the Alarm was her 5 minute warning for when the soldiers were coming in to kill everyone. In a panic again Olivia managed to wriggle her gun out of it's open the holster on her half removed pants.
"Peter!"
He didn't respond but lifted his head to meet her eyes. She didn't waste the clear shot to pistol whip him hard knocking him off of her and onto the floor in a stunned daze.
Olivia was up in the next second and racing down the hall to the doorway to the control room. 30 seconds later she was throwing the switch and felt with relief the muggy air in the vents blow across the sweat soaked hair against her neck, circulating the gas that should be coming in any second.
Olivia debated for a split second before stowing the gun next to the vent and returning to the hallway, least Peter shoot her or vice versa before the gas took effect.
Olivia cautiously approached Peters body still laying on his side, not sure whether to expect another fight. Peter blinked up at her, unmoving, apparently she'd hit him hard enough to daze him for a few minutes. He was struggling to shake it off now, and not wanting the authorities to arrive and find them in a state of severe undress Olivia did her best to hike up his jeans and refasten her own shirt and pants before he came around.
Perhaps the gas was having a faster effect then she'd anticipated because she'd barely done that when she felt dizzy and crumpled to the floor next to Peter again.
He raised his head for a moment to look at her, but the feverish look was almost gone, and a confused expression crossed his features, "Livy?"
"Yeah, Peter?" He didn't say anything but wrapped an arm around her instead pulling her across the floor and back into the shelter of his chest. His face buried in her soft golden hair as he nuzzled into her neck breathing her in. "You came back," He raised his head to stare down at her.
Olivia could feel sleep tugging at her, standing right under the vent had obviously given her a pretty large dose already, she was fighting unconsciousness.
"Yes, Peter Always."
She closed her eyes as Peter pressed a kiss to her cheek and mumbled "My Olivia, this isn't over."
She certainly hoped not.
Finis
Disclaimer: Don't own them, sadly never will. In the case of one Mr. Peter Bishop really, really sad, I mean Hubba Hubba. ;) I'm not making any money, profit, fame or fortune from this venture. I am simply letting them out for a much needed romp. That's right this mindless drabble is entirely their fault, not mine. The Cortexiphan made me do it! ;) Now, Who wants an ice cream sandwich?
Chapter Two
Awkward.
That was the first thought to flit across Olivia's mind as she stumbled into consciousness on the EMT gurney.
Well, Technically the first thought that really started to solidify was a mixture of headache, cotton mouth and muscle aches the always followed a fight or a drug induced stupor…as she was recovering from both Olivia wasn't really that surprised.
What was unexpected in those first half lucid moments before reality really came into focus was the slick wetness Olivia felt, and the Goosebumps still raised on her skin by every movement of cloth or blanket.
What The Hell.
She felt like a horny teenager waking from one of those ever embarrassing dreams. Her body felt clammy with half dried sweat and slick with anticipation for nothing. She felt Oversensitive and Irritated at the same time.
Olivia tried to concentrate on the red and blue reflections in the dimpled metal roofing of the Ambulance she was in….She was awake, sort of.
Memories and bits of information flitted in and out of her head like hummingbirds zipping in and out of a feeder, there and then gone again, replaced by something else, choppy and out of order, she felt like someone had shoved what should have been the logical sequence of events in her night into a blender then shoved all the bits and pieces back in her abused head like some bizarre drugged out puzzle.
With the way her head felt it was possible her head might be the blender….she wasn't sure it was entirely done spinning yet.
Olivia began trying to reconnect her fuzzy memories into some semblance of order, trying to make some chronologic sense of the chaotic rolodex of images her brain was supplying; certain she must still be shaking off whatever bizarre sex dream she must have had; While making a mental note to chastise Walter for thinking it was a good idea to put some kind of hallucinogen in the sedative they were delivering to already delusional people.
Once she was in more control of her faculties that is.
Olivia closed her eyes trying to remember what had happened in the building just before she'd obviously succeeded in returning the air circulation to the building. But her mind steadfastly refused to offer up anything except the image of Peter writhing above her, his breath in her ear and mouth on her flesh.
Jesus. Olivia snapped her eyes back open to focus on the ceiling again.
Glancing around the interior of the vehicle Olivia was glad to find she was alone. She could hear voices just outside the backdoors and trying to sit up Olivia found that she was not strapped down, simply covered with one of the anti-hypothermia emergency blankets that were often piled onto disaster victims recovering from some state of injury or shock.
Taking stock of the state of her buttons Olivia wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and standing carefully and a little shaky moved to the end of the Ambulance to step out into the now subdued chaos that existed just outside the building's exterior.
Obviously the Virus cure had been a success or Olivia would have still be asleep or would have awoken inside a secured CDC container…she refused to think about the option that she would have not waken at all.
She needed to find Walter, and Peter, She needed to see him, make sure he was all right. Even if he wasn't awake yet, she just needed to see him. To know the fuzzy images in her brain and the slick heat still throbbing in her core wasn't real, it was just a dream.
"Agent Dunham" Broyles voice approached her just as she was attempting the steep steps down the back of the ambulance Olivia made it about halfway on her own and then accepted the hand offered to her, not feeling entirely steady yet.
"How are you Feeling?"
Wasn't that just a loaded question.
"I'm fine sir, a little fuzzy on exactly what happened,"
"Yes, they said that would be a side effect of the sedative used, but it will fade, I had the EMTs check you and Mr. Bishop out. It seems there was a bit of an altercation inside the building, do you remember any of that?"
An image of slamming into a wall and trying to punch someone in the face came to her but it was hazy like watching through a fog. Olivia kept her eyes on the surrounding crowd of EMT's, FBI and CDC workers not meeting his gaze. "Not really, It's all just bits and pieces now," She paused to take in a breath, trying to clear her muddled brain. "Everyone made it out okay though?"
She didn't specifically ask what she wanted to.
Peter. Did Peter make it out okay?
She knew if something had been wrong with Peter that Broyles would have told her immediately.
"Yes the vaccine that Dr. Bishop created worked on all the individuals infected, they're all being transferred to the hospital for observation for the next 24 hours just to be safe, but you and Peter are okay to return home after you've been cleared by CDC Doctor." He paused and seemed to take in her expression with greater scrutiny than before. "Unless you would like to go to the Hospital…."
"No." Olivia swallowed, and shook her head offering Broyles a quirk of her lips as way of apologizing for her suddenly cutting him off. "No, I'd just like to go home."
Broyles nodded in acknowledgment and instructed her to which CDC tent still held Walter and Astrid, and in which Peter was recovering; his father not allowing him to leave his sight since he'd left the building.
Steeling her nerves Olivia headed toward the makeshift building. She found Walter inside still tinkering with a few lab equipment supplies, Astrid with him, cataloging something onto a clipboard as he rattled off long names of something or other.
"Oh, Agent Dunham it's so good to see you!" Walter momentarily stopped in his hurried movements to practically skip to her side, clasping her night chilled hand in his. "I told them I would like a sample of the vaccine and the dead virus to work on further but they won't let me, do you think you could…"
Olivia was only half listening eyes casting around the make shift laboratory until they found a rolling gurney with a still blanket covered form on it.
Olivia let out a deep breath she didn't realize she'd been holding , he was here, not locked away in some container which meant the virus cure had truly worked. Despite what Broyles had assured her Olivia couldn't get over the deranged vision of Peter in her mind just after the building had been sealed off.
"Is Peter okay?"
"What? Oh Yes, Yes. He's Fine. He is still a bit sedated and I think he must have split his lip in some kind of altercation perhaps but other than that He is fine." Walter headed toward the sleeping form of Peter and standing beside him turned back to Olivia.
"See? He's just fine, resting that's all. We're all headed home as soon as he wakes up, although I would very much like to stop and get one of those hamburgers on the way, what do they call them? Wompers?"
"I think you mean a Whoper." Astrid said from Olivia's side smiling at her.
"Yes, that's it a Whoper!"
"How are you feeling?" Astrid asked as Walter went back to moving objects into a few cardboard boxes.
"Tired, sore, a bit muddled on what exactly went on."
Astrid nodded clutching the clipboard to her chest. "You should head home, we got this here and it's been a really long day, I don't think anyone would blame you for trying to get some rest."
Olivia nodded, "I think I'd like to stay just until Peter wakes up see if he remembers anything…I think I may have given him that split lip" Astrid grinned at her. "I feel like I should apologize,"
Astrid laughed, "If you punched him, I'm sure he deserved it. I'll grab you a chair we're just packing up some of the supplies Walter insisted on bringing over from his own lab to make the vaccine."
"Thanks,"
Olivia went to stand beside Peter's sleeping form, taking a closer stock of his appearance, he looked a bit pale, and he definitely had a split lip and a bruise was just starting to color his left cheek, his breathing was slow and even though, and his face slack and relaxed free of tension at least for the time being.
It was a relief to see him resting so peacefully compared to the Amped up and furious Peter she had had to witness earlier today.
Astrid returned with a collapsible chair and Olivia set up camp next to Peter's side to wait.