A/N: I wrote this today, and decided that I have too low self esteem and I overthink things, so I'm posting it before I talk myself out of it.

He feels like a pawn in their game. They kept this a secret from him. Even Olivia. He thought he could trust her.

He's at her door, hesitating, his hand raised to knock. He pushes back the thoughts, refusing to let his mind convince him not to do this. He's made it all this way without thinking. He can't stop now.

Two quick, quiet knocks. But he knows she'll hear. A small part of him hopes she won't.

"Peter?" It's like she can't believe her eyes. Like she thinks she's hallucinating.

"Hey, 'Livia. You busy?"

She smiles, bewildered. "Of course not."

He examines her as she leads him inside, pours him a drink.

She's fully dressed, and it's after two in the morning. She had no intention of trying to sleep. There are gray circles around her eyes, ones that seem to have been there a while. Her hair, always pulled back in that flawless ponytail with not a hair out of place, is down now, a little disheveled.

She's noticed him staring. "What?"

"Liv, you look like shit."

"Gee, thanks." She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her drink as she sits down next to him. Peter rolls his glass in his hands.

"Seriously, Olivia. How long has it been since you slept?"

She bit her lip, the way she always did when she was upset. "I took a nap after work today."

He nodded. "And how long did you sleep?"

"Half an hour."

"What about last night? Did you sleep at all?"

No reply. He'd suspected as much. He grinned, smug.

That made her snap again. "Well, it's difficult to sleep when Walter calls you every hour to ask if there's new information on the whereabouts of his son, because he's up late every night fretting over him."

The guilt card. She always seemed to have that one in her hand.

Peter stared at the drink in his hand.

She wasn't done, but this time her voice was softer. "Not to mention that you can't sleep yourself, out of worry."

His eyes flickered back to her. "Neither of you should worry about me. I'm a big boy; I can take care of myself."

She smiled feebly. "I know. Walter knows too. He misses you."

She didn't say it, but he knew that by "Walter" she meant "we."

They'd been unconsciously moving closer. Olivia blinked, and pulled back, took another sip.

"Why are you here?"

He smiled, swished the liquor around in the glass before drinking some more. "I honestly don't know."

She just blinked.

The alcohol made him go for it. "I guess… I guess I missed you too."

She smiled, staring back at her glass.

"But you're going to leave again."

He didn't answer. Truthfully, he didn't really know. He hadn't planned past tonight. He hadn't even planned tonight.

"What are you looking for, Peter? What do you think you'll find?"

"I – I don't know! I just needed… to get away. I needed to think."

She bit her lip, and stared at the wall. Her glass was empty now.

"And? What did you find, while you were thinking?" Her voice was scalding now. Anger boiling under the surface. Hurt.

He finished his glass, too. "That I don't belong here. That this is the reason I've moved around, always looking for something I didn't understand. Because I'm not from here. I don't belong anywhere in this universe."

"So you're going to leave again." She was good at hiding, but there was a tone to her voice that most wouldn't catch – pain.

He rolled his glass in between his hands. "I never actually thought about it. I didn't think about tomorrow, or the next day. I didn't even think about today. I just hopped on a plane and went where it took me."

They were close again, mirroring each other, one elbow on the table, their hands propping up their heads, the other hand on their knees, which were almost touching.

A few centimeters. To him, they seemed like a canyon. He jumped it anyway, bumping his knee into hers.

She blinked up at him. She was even closer now. He remembered the last time this happened, after Jacksonville. A ghost of that rejection flashed through his mind for a moment, but he erased it. He had to do this.

His hand moved to her knee on its own.

He heard her breath hitch for a moment. "Peter…"

He shook his head and pressed his lips to hers.