TITLE: Half of Boston
PAIRING: Walstrid
CHARACTERS: Astrid Farnsworth, Walter Bishop, Peter Bishop, Olivia Dunham, Phillip Broyles
GENRE: Dark
RATING: M
SUMMARY: life in the mirror world
WORD COUNT: 1987
WARNINGS: Language, nudity
SPOILERS: 1.18
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I missed 1.20 so I wrote this to occupy my time.
DISCLAIMER: none
"Walter."
The man in bed beside her made no sound, still lost somewhere in his dreams.
"Walter," she said again, emphasising his name and elbowing him roughly in the side.
"What?" he grunted, rolling away from her.
She sat up, resting back on her elbows. "Where's your cell phone?"
"I dunno," he mumbled, spooning one of her down pillows.
"Did you leave it in the living room?" she asked, not seeing his phone next to hers on the nightstand.
In the darkness of the room, the light coming in through the sole window cast a pale, ethereal glow about their bedroom. In the past few months she'd become accustomed to working in the dark and she could see perfectly fine.
"Probably. I don't really care. I was dreaming of owning my own soda fountain."
"That's great," she said rolling her eyes, "but I think it's ringing."
"Then go answer it," he said, sounding annoyed.
Astrid gave a dramatic sigh to let him know how irritated she was that she had to retrieve the phone she had told him a thousand times he was supposed to take to bed with him. Because her mattress was against the wall, it meant she had to crawl over his pyjama'd form to get off the bed and that meant he was going to act like a spoiled brat as she climbed over him. Indeed he writhed a bit and made noises of discomfort, but she had long since gotten past the guilty feelings of disrupting his sleep.
Her shit apartment was comfortably small for just one person, but the second Peter decided his father was just too much to handle and left him on her doorstep, chez Astrid had become miserably cramped. The queen size mattress that had once seemed luxuriously large was now crowded feeling, especially because Walter liked to sprawl out as the hot summer months were approaching. She had no idea how he could wear clothes to bed as she simply went to bed wearing Chanel 5 like Marilyn Monroe did—it was just too hot to wear anything more!
In the living room she found the now quiet cell phone still lit up on the coffee table and she lifted it up to check the screen.
One Missed Call.
Astrid gave another irritated sigh and clicked button that said "view" and saw the Olivia had called.
"Assistant!" Walter hollered from the bedroom. "Your damn phone is dancing around on the nightstand! Do something!"
Astrid dashed back into the bedroom and grabbed her cell phone. She saw the caller ID and groaned.
"Olivia. It's three in the morning," she greeted.
The other woman's smoky voice sounded exhausted. "I need you to get Walter ready. There's been another attack."
She looked over at the scientist in her bed. "Give me ten, maybe fifteen minutes."
"I'll send the directions to your phone," Olivia said before hanging up.
Astrid grumbled as she took her firearm off the windowsill at the foot of the bed and pulled her belt holster off the dresser. Slipping on panties and a camisole, she returned to the bed. She gently placed a kiss on Walter's cheek and smoothed the curls along his forehead. "Hey, you need to get up. There's been another attack."
"Get me my chinos," he mumbled.
She shook her head. "They're in the laundry."
"Get me my chinos."
Astrid had in fact been wearing the same pair of jeans for the past five days, but she wore lots of perfume to help block out the stench of death in the air and Walter had a tendency to wipe mustard on his own clothes, making it harder for him to re-wear things after one use. Today she decided it was finally time to put on a new pair of pants so she opted to put on a pair of herringbone slacks that didn't match anything she owned. It was too early in the morning to argue with him so she decided to make a compromise instead of fight with him.
She dug through the laundry to find the pants he wanted. "Fine, but you're wearing a clean shirt."
He didn't move. "Deal."
"Get up, Walter," she insisted as she tossed the chinos onto the bed.
"I want one of those protein shakes. A vanilla one." He sat up. "Will you put almonds in it?"
She began to button up her white oxford. "Yes, but I need you to get out of bed and put on your clothes."
"You have to give me another kiss," he demanded.
"Walter, please. No games this morning," Astrid begged.
"I want a hardboiled egg, too," Walter huffed, sounding hurt that she wasn't going to continue playing.
"Okay, now get dressed."
Astrid hurried out of the their bedroom to the kitchen, buttoning her left cuff as she went over to the cabinet that held the insulated lunch box she packed every morning for the two of them. She moved to the fridge and pulled out two of the bottled protein shakes, removing the top off one of the drinks and set them on wobbly card table that served as the dining room. She then selected two large oranges and two peanut butter and jam sandwiches she'd made up the night before and slipped them into the lunch box. From the freezer she removed an ice pack and from the spice rack on the counter she found her bottle of chopped almonds. She poured a tablespoon of almonds into the open drink, put the cap back on and used a permanent marker to label the bottle with a large "W". She placed the drinks into the lunch box, zipped the top closed and returned to the bedroom.
Walter was sitting on the edge of the mattress, completely dressed, save for socks and shoes. He wiggled his toes at her as she pulled on her socks and took her boots out from under the bed.
"Where are my socks?" he asked curiously.
She crouched down to tie up her bootlaces. "Same place they were yesterday."
She heard him go to the dresser and a drawer opened, but when he returned to her side, he offered out a small pale pink object in the palm of his hand. "This is for you."
She tilted his hand to see the object in the moonlight coming in through the window and her eyes widened in surprise. "You found my button."
"It was under the fridge. I found it when I was cleaning the kitchen."
She stood up and kissed him on the cheek for a second time that morning. "Thank you."
Astrid slipped the button into her pocket and found her gaiters that slid over her boots and up to her knees under her slacks. Walter put on his socks and boots as well, putting on his own gaiters under his chinos.
"Did you put almonds in my drink?" he asked as he finished strapping the hard plastic around his shins.
She retrieved their Kevlar from the closet. "Of course."
"I'm ready to go," he announced happily. "Do you think Peter will be there?"
"Absolutely," she said as she strapped her vest over her chest. "And I'm sure he'll be excited to see you. Why don't you get that book you wanted to bring him?"
"Where did we put it?" he asked as she put his Kevlar vest on him.
"Check the coffee table," she said, letting him go.
They moved into the living room and while Walter searched for the book he'd bought his son, Astrid collected their lunch box and finally strapped on her side holster, feeling very powerful with the added weight on the left side of her hip.
"Found it!" he sang and she held out her handbag for him to place it in.
"Okay, let's go."
In front of the apartment door was a solid armoire they'd loaded down with heavy books and barbells; it took the two of them to move the large piece of furniture out of the way and both of them always managed to make a nervous joke that if something happened to one of them, they wouldn't be able to get out of the apartment…
Astrid unlocked the three deadbolts and once they stepped out the door, she felt her cell phone vibrate, indicating Olivia had just sent over the directions to the scene. Walter began digging through the lunch box to find his shake as she relocked the apartment door.
"I need more undershirts. This Kevlar chafes my nipples." Walter began to shake the plastic bottle with his name violently.
She recalled the first week she had worn her bulletproof vest without two shirts underneath and grimaced. "I know what you mean."
"We need to go grocery shopping, too. Can we ask Peter to come?"
Astrid wasn't going to hold her breath. "If he wants to."
In the underground parking garage, the large black government plated Suburban blinked its lights as she unlocked it with the remote on the keychain Walter had found on the ground well over six months ago.
As they climbed inside, Astrid glanced over at her passenger and said, "Co-pilot, I'm going to read you the directions and you're going to put them into the GPS, okay?"
Walter saluted. "Aye-aye, matey."
She read the address off her cell phone and Walter dutifully punched in the correct keys to illustrate the map on the GPS unit.
"Tah-dah!"
Astrid started up the Suburban. "Let's rock and roll!"
The large vehicle rolled heavily on the streets of Boston. Armor plating and bullet resistant glass made Astrid feel much safer out driving since the Outbreak. She glanced over at Walter and smiled, watching him bounce happily in his seat to the music. It didn't matter that it was still early in the morning—the streets were always seemed to be mostly devoid of cars, just the occasional taxi or military truck.
Or of course, an ambulance.
At the scene she saw that Peter Bishop was already there, chatting up Agent Broyles and Olivia. They too were wearing their FSU emblazoned Kevlar and looked relieved to see that she had arrived with Walter. Off in the distance of the freeway tunnel they were in, she could see a white sheet covering a body.
"Peter!" Walter cried happily and ran over towards his son.
Peter gave him an awkward embrace. "Hey, Walter. How are you?"
"I'm fine! I have a gift for you," Walter said, rummaging through her handbag to produce Erich von Däniken's "Chariots of the Gods?"
The younger Bishop looked a little startled. "Oh, thank you."
Agent Broyles motioned for Walter. "Dr. Bishop, if you'll come with me."
Walter followed Broyles and Olivia, leaving Astrid alone with gave her a weak smile and asked politely,
"How've you been?"
She shrugged and decided to be honest. "Good. Sweaty. And you?"
"I'm getting better." He looked over to his father, who was with Olivia and Broyles, assessing the damage. "How's Walter?"
She wished she could be a bitch about it, but she understood why he abandoned his father to her. "He misses you. But I make sure he's feed and doesn't miss too many SpongeBob episodes."
Over by the incredibly mauled body, Walter gave a delighted laugh. "Ooh, Assistant! Come look at this man! He's wearing women's underwear!"
They returned to the apartment five hours later, at exactly eight-twelve. It was considerably cooler inside and after they pushed the armoire back into place in front of the door, they proceeded to undress once more, removing their soiled and bloody clothes. As they made their way back to the bedroom, they fumbled their hands over one another, they kissed possessively…but the moment they fell onto the mattress, they both seemed to be thinking the same thing. His body still flush against hers, they pulled the sheets up over them as they fell into a dead sleep.