A/N: So I really don't have time for an other fandom, but I've been a Fringe fan since it started. Mostly a Peter/Olivia fan, but never enough that I had to write out a story to keep the idea from buzzing and distracting me. Then Lincoln Lee came along and my heart just melted. So what do I do? I go to ffnet and look for Lincoln fics, and find two. One being in Spanish that I can't read. Oi. So this idea, buzzing in my head as I should be studying for my American Lit test on Wednesday got written. That line was just too good to pass up. And their chemistry is too good. And Lincoln is just too freakin' awesome. I have an other idea floating around on what I *want* to happen when it comes to Lincoln finding out that the Olivia that locked him in the shed really isn't his Olivia, but I found out the hard way writing a Covert Affairs fanfic that trying to outwit the writers in a multi chapter before the season's done is never a good idea. Then you end up writing what they were going to write anyway, but attributing it to the wrong character. Poor "Boundaries" may never be finished. Sad day.

Anyway, first Fringe fic. Please enjoy.

Because You Kissed Her One Time

She'd sent him all the right signals. All the signals that a single woman was supposed to send to a single guy to show that she was interested. Since the moment she'd joined his unit within the Fringe Division they had clicked with what Charlie affectionately called their "Vulcan Mind Meld." There was a certain chemistry between them that had made the transition – one that might have been slightly awkward by the fact that Lincoln had just been promoted to the unit leader after their former leader had been killed during an investigation – smooth and seemingly perfect.

All this said, it was not unusual for Olivia and Lincoln to find themselves delayed after a round of celebrating in which she would laugh off his attempts to find the perfect cocktail that would help in what he felt was her need to acquire a taste for alcohol. It was one such night that she laughed as Lincoln continued on about a particularly funny story from his and Charlie's days at the Academy that had to do with the latter's obsession with parasites.

The story ended with both agents nearly on the ground laughing – Charlie having left nearly an hour before with the rest of the stragglers and no longer there to defend himself – and Lincoln draining his final swallows of whisky from his glass. His blue eyes sparkled brightly with mischief as Olivia continued to chuckle over the story. "I really should get home," she murmured finally, still smiling.

"Probably so," he agreed and stood, swaying slightly as he did.

Olivia reached out and took hold of his shoulder, steadying him slightly. "Need a ride home?"

Lincoln started to decline, but after swaying again decided to accept. He grinned sheepishly and paid the tab – ignoring her frustrated groan over not paying for her own soda – before starting for the door. He felt a slight flutter in is chest as the pretty woman at his side slid an arm through his, giving him not only a steadying hand but adding to the closeness between them.

They walked out to her car like that, arm in arm, and laughing the whole way about nothing in particular. About halfway to Lincoln's apartment, Olivia turned her bright green eyes on him. "You know, I think Charlie's been lying to me," she said seemingly out of nowhere.

The blond man chuckled. "About what?"

"He warned me when I first transferred in that you were serious and not to take it to heart if you seemed rude."

"Yeah?" Lincoln laughed, leaning back against the seat and finding that his eyes wouldn't leave her even if he commanded them to. It was like being stuck in a trance. "What do you think?"

"I think you're damn good at your job," Olivia said after a moment, her eyes once again trained on the road. The only sign that she knew how intently he was staring at her was the slight hint of red tinting her cheeks.

"I am damn good at my job."

"And modest."

"Oh, always modest. I'm the most modest individual in the Fringe Division."

They broke out laughing again as Olivia pulled up to Lincoln's apartment complex. When she put the car into park she turned back to look at him, finding that his eyes had never left her at all and the blush spread ever so slightly. It was cold outside, she reminded herself, and if he noticed it she could blame that. Not that he would remember half of the conversation in the morning anyway.

The laughter died off and Lincoln continued smiling, but it differed from the carefree smile from moments before. It was like the weight that Olivia had noticed from time to time was back and threatening to pull him down. "I've got to be the best," he murmured almost as if he were about to divulge information that she should not be privy to. Perhaps he was.

Olivia found herself leaning closer and across the middle console as she spoke. "Why's that?"

"Everyone thinks that this job was just handed to me," he answered quietly, eyes distant. "My dad's a big-shot judge and he's friends with Secretary Bishop. Truth is he wanted me to go to law school, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it."

"I think you would have died of boredom."

"You know, I think you're right." Lincoln reached a hand up and brushed a lock of hair back behind the other agent's ear. Their faces were close and before either of them knew it he had leaned across the bare distance and their lips met.

Olivia stiffened slightly but didn't resist as he continued to kiss her. He tasted like whisky, something that she normally would have despised, but somehow she found herself leaning into it. It was like a need that she hadn't known of was being met and she felt his hands tangled in her long hair and they finally broke, both panting in the cold air. She blinked and then reality crashed in around her. "Lincoln."

"Mm?" he asked, looking slightly more sober than he had when they'd begun their conversation.

"I can't do this."

"Listen, they're not as strict about work relationships in our division-"

"That's not it." She watched his expressions change and then finally settle on confused.

"Then what is it, Liv? I mean, you've been giving all the signs, unless I've totally been misreading you…"

"You haven't. And you have. Damn it, Lincoln, I don't know." She felt flustered and found herself leaned up against her door and away from him. Hurt flashed through his blue eyes. "It's not you."

"Oh yeah. That's one of the lines that men always love to hear."

"I'm serious, Lincoln," she huffed. "I'm dating someone."

He paled. "Liv…"

"If I've been giving you signals, I didn't mean to."

"It's serious then?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"You think so?" Lincoln grit his teeth and ran his hands through his short hair. He shouldn't push her, he told himself. He really did care about her and he wouldn't – couldn't – risk losing her friendship. They worked well together. All three of them did. He couldn't jeopardize that.

"Lincoln?"

The blond startled out of his thoughts and reached for the door. Cold air flooded into the car upon opening it. "Hey, thanks for the ride, Liv. Would have had to have called a cab if you hadn't offered."

She blinked up at him, a silent question hanging in the air.

"G'night," he said instead of answering it and gave her a slight wave. Then he shut the door, shuffling off through the snow that had lightly begun to fall and leaving her alone in her car.

She watched him go, a sinking feeling in her stomach and tears brimming her eyes. She touched her lips, still warm from his kiss. "Good nigh, Lincoln," she whispered to the empty car.

Monday morning rolled around far too slowly for Lincoln Lee. He wouldn't consider himself a workaholic, but Sunday had certainly given him more time to think about Saturday night's events than he would have liked.

"Morning, Lincoln."

He turned, seeing Olivia wave in his direction. He forced a grin that he reserved for her and returned the wave.

She covered the distance between them and stopped, looking slightly awkward. "Hey, I called a couple times yesterday."

"I know. I saw that late last night, but didn't know if you'd still be up when I saw them." He looked a little sheepish. "I had a bit of a hangover and didn't do anything productive until mid afternoon anyway. What's up?"

She glanced around, checking for anyone that might be listening. "I just… just wanted to make sure that we're still good after Saturday night."

Lincoln stared blankly at her, his mind running ninety-to-nothing. He didn't want to do this. He was really hoping that she would have just dropped it and moved on as if nothing had happened. That might have been the easiest way. He paused. Maybe it still was. "Saturday night?" he echoed, feigning confusion. "Listen, all I remember is that I got really wasted and that you gave me a lift home – thanks, by the way, - but other than that it's kind of a blur."

A relieved expression crossed Olivia's face. "Really?"

"Yeah. I didn't make an ass out of myself, did I?"

"No, of course not," she said hastily. "It's nothing. Not even worth mentioning. Sorry I brought it up."

He gave a casual shrug. "So we're good, apparently, being that I don't know why we wouldn't be."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as if she was beginning to question his honesty, but she let it go. "Seriously, Lincoln, I could have crashed the car and you probably wouldn't have known that night."

"Was I that far gone?"

"Yeah. Pretty bad."

They laughed it off together, both pretty sure that the other knew the truth. It was all right, though, because they also knew that their partnership meant more to them than all the awkward moments that the truth would bring.

A/N: So, let me know how I did. Not only am I new to writing for Fringe, but I'm a review addict. Those are the good drugs that Walter was really talking about. Reviews. Yup. I know these things XD

TS