Title: At Arm's Length
Rating: T
Author: SamSpade
Spoilers: Firefly
Summary: The last few moments of Firefly with Peter and Olivia that we didn't see.
In that moment she knows he's right and it pains her to even admit it to herself. She can still hear those five words that somehow make her unravel and suddenly realize he knows her in ways better than she knows herself. 'Keep people at arm's length.' She does do that, more than she'd like to admit and maybe that's why the relationship with Fauxlivia developed with Peter. She likes to think she'd have that happily ever after with him but there is a strong truth to his words.
Seeing that happy old couple as they started another new case that morning had really sunk in that she would never have that—not if she kept people at arm's length—especially those she truly cares for.
Maybe the catalyst had been the Observer shooting Peter. It made her realize she wasn't ready to lose him again and he still belonged with her—even after all that they'd been through she was ready to look past it.
She wants to make right by it but she's unsure how. Peter is right, she never asked him what his favorite book was. It wasn't for lack of caring, she just never really thought about it. Was Fauxlivia more considerate than she? No, she wouldn't allow herself to think like that. Genetically they were the same but they were two very different people—their environmental factors and influenced had shaped them differently. She was certain of it and yet there was a nagging feeling that they still somehow came from the same seed, as they weren't twins but closer than that—each other.
If the day couldn't get any worse her heart pounds erratically as she watches Peter convulse on the floor after drinking from a carton of milk in Walter's fridge. She does the only thing she knows and dials Walter Bishop, following his instructions to stabilize Peter. It works and for the first moment in weeks she can feel a hint of a smile on her face. She saved him.
She watches his eyes slowly open and her fingers move to his forehead, "hey, there you are."
Peter's voice is gruff and it's taken a moment for him to realize what's happened, "where'd I go?"
She leans down and kisses the top of his head, "the milk you drank from the fridge, it was one of Walter's experiments." She hates having to tell him the bad news but she's sworn never to lie to him again and right now—there's no need to.
Peter nods and grimaces from the ache in his head and now his throat is painfully scorched. "Do you mind giving me a ride home?"
"Of course not," she would have offered sooner if she hadn't been so stupid and stubborn. She half wants to invite him back to her place to look after him but she knows it's not the wisest of decisions and she's half-confident that Walter can do the job for the night. She helps him to the car, her arm around his waist though she feels him steady on his feet. He doesn't object though and she wonders if it's because he likes the close proximity or he really needs the strength of her embrace as she walks him to the car. She helps him in and watches his buckle his seatbelt before shutting the door and walking around.
By the time she gets into the driver's seat she catches a quick glance at Peter and his eyes are closed. She opens her mouth but quickly shuts it, thinking what he needs is rest.
She doesn't turn on the radio and the drive to the Bishop Residence is completely engulfed in silence. She wants to speak, to tell him so much that she feels but isn't sure now is the right time. The time never seems right, never feels right and she wonders if the words will always die on her tongue.
She pulls up to the Bishop house and parks the car. She watches Peter stir and wonders if he was asleep the entire drive or if in fact he had just been resting his eyes. She walks around to help him out and he seems to walk better now but she still wraps an arm around his waist and feels his arm fall around her shoulders. She inwardly shudders and her body instantly heats up but she ignores the sensation as each step she takes walks him closer to the front door.
"Your key?" She asks and he seems dazed and it takes a minute for him to dig into his pocket. By then Walter has heard the commotion and the front door swings wide open.
"Peter!" Walter exclaims relieved to see his son alive and well. "Come in Agent Dunham."
Peter tries to loosen his grip from Olivia but she doesn't let go. "I'll help you to the couch," she offers seeing in across the room and Peter willingly obliges. She helps him lie down and finds him a blanket to cover him with. He looks tired and exhausted and there's so many things she wants to say before it's too late but Walter is standing beside her staring at his son and the words never seem to come.
Peter feels the plush sofa beneath him and opens his eyes ever so briefly as he stares up at the one woman who would cross universes for him and still be kept at arm's length. "Thank you," his voice is raspy and raw and she leans down kissing his cheek and he feels the hint of intimacy somewhere and he half wonders if he's hallucinating from the milk that he'd ingested not so many hours earlier.
"Feel better, Peter." She reluctantly pulls back, retreating towards the front door letting herself out. She feels like the cowardly lion and smiles as she hears in the background Walter turning on his record player.
The End.