After the initial euphoria wears down, they don't talk about it for some time.

There's simply too much that has happened, the enormity of what they've been through making it a little hard to put the abstract thought of having created a new life into concrete terms, terms in which they could bring themselves to actually talk about.

It doesn't surprise her at all when he asks her as they drive back to her apartment if she'd prefer he stay at his place for a few days.

Another woman might have found it a callous gesture, to be asked if she'd prefer to be left alone after having gone through the day she had, or perhaps wondered if the emotional upheavals of having a dead girlfriend resurrect and then be told she was pregnant had finally done it for him, that the old Peter Bishop had decided to stage a comeback after all, or rather was gunning to make a break for it.

She couldn't blame him really.

She'd be disappointed, devastated, heartbroken, of course, but she couldn't blame him.

But his voice is sincere, and Olivia knows it's not that. That he is familiar with the way her mind works, knows she likes to processes things by herself, come to terms with major life changes in private before she's ready to include him.

It's why, where every instinct would tell him to keep her in his sight at all times, especially now, after what they went through mere hours ago, Peter does what Olivia expects he will do…put her consideration before his.

"Stay." She tells him simply.

She doesn't tell him, that him being next to her is about the only thing keeping her sane in that moment, the knot in her stomach so tight, she wonders how she hasn't doubled over and snapped into two yet.

She sleeps soundly that night, body too exhausted to mull over things that need some definite mulling over and wakes up rather late the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee, finding him already up, sitting in the kitchen in front of his laptop.

It's a reassuring sight to place her eyes on him, in her apartment.

"Morning." She saunters in, running her hands through his sleep tousled hair, automatically reaching into the cabinet to pull out a mug for herself when she remembers and stills. She looks from the corner of the her eye where she knows he is watching her, and holds the mug for just an extra second to see if he'll say something.

But he doesn't and she simply sets it down and pulls out a glass instead and pours herself some juice from the fridge, taking a seat in front of him, unaware as if that he's watching her the whole time.

He gives her a smile, but again doesn't say anything, or comment on the switch in her morning beverage.

"It's nice and sunny outside. We could head into town and get some brunch if you felt like it." He tells her instead.

She nods in-between taking a sip of juice. Two can play this game. "That sounds nice."

"I also got us our tickets for next week. "

"Tickets?"

"The jazz concert…" he clarifies, "…at the commons. We went last year remember? And you said you wanted to do it again."

"Right. Of course." She nods, remembering then the conversation they'd had only two days ago… before they got busy trying to stop the universes from ending.

"Unless you don't feel like going anymore?" He looks at her hesitantly. "I am sorry I should have confirmed with you… I can cancel…"

"No we should go." She's shaking her head. "I want to… I mean." She gives him a small smile.

He nods, and they lapse into a few moments of silence, each taking purposeful sips of the beverage they're holding before he shrugs and gives her a questioning look.

"So what else do you feel like doing?" He asks her.

"About?" She asks cautiously.

"With our free week." He clarifies. "Broyles said we could even take off till next Wednesday if we wanted. I was thinking we could maybe catch a couple of movies, and there's a Bruins game this weekend, you like hockey don't you? We could even get away for a couple of days if you're in the mood for a little vacation…"

He stops talking when he looks at her blank expression, his face falls a little. After a second or two of waiting for a response from her, he nods with a sad smile, his eyes drifting away. "If you have other plans that's okay."

He was doing it again, Olivia thinks, trying to give her space and not broach the obvious subject until she took initiative, until she made some clear indication that she was okay to talk about this, distracting her and possibly himself instead with talk of plans that could keep them busy without really taxing them. He's desperately trying to keep it casual. To act as if nothing has changed, like they were still the same couple they were forty eight hours ago and hadn't been suddenly hurled towards impending parenthood that was a close nine months away.

Seven and half months … a voice in her head automatically corrects her. She's been pregnant for six weeks already.

He hasn't even asked her how far along she was, Olivia thinks with a twinge of disappointment.

It won't do. No, this won't do at all.

She wishes for once he would just disregard this maddening patience he has always had with her closely guarded boundaries, that he would just say hell with it and ask her if she was feeling alright, if she needed anything, if she had thought about making an Ob/Gyn appointment maybe.

If he could just stop being so Peter and not act all in deference of her and make some acknowledgement of the fact that she was carrying his child…their child.

Their child…

Suddenly the air seems to have become depleted of all the oxygen.

"I love hockey." She says, reaching for his hand, giving him a full smile. "And a movie sounds great. But I was thinking we could also maybe find some time to go take a look at some of those listings you were talking about."

He looks at her with a surprised expression and she simply shrugs. "Like you said we do have a whole week off, might as well get started on that."

We're going to need the extra space sooner than we thought. She almost says, but stops herself.

One step at a time. They can do this.

They can do this?

He nods at her, and then furrows his brows in concentration as if remembering something.

"You know what, Lara in the Marine Biology department, told me a few days ago about this really great house in the neighborhood she stays in." He says, looking to his laptop.

"Who is Lara?" Olivia looks at him with some curiosity. "Have we worked with her for a case before?"

"No you don't know her." He shakes his head. "I met her at a department conference Walter dragged me to a few months ago where she was presenting and we got coffee afterwards to talk about her research some more. "

"Really?"

He then shrugs when he catches her knowing glance. "We may or may not have occasionally hooked up in the other timeline. Didn't amount to much but we stayed friends …or until I got erased and whatnot. But we reconnected so we're friends again I suppose, except she doesn't know we were friends before…a little more than friends. I wonder if that's' ethically wrong… to know that about someone when they don't know it themselves. it's an interesting philosophical question if you think about it, except you can't because the logic of time travel would mean a temporal switch which would imply the action precedes the ethical dilemma which then would negate the need for having one in the first place…" He rambles, talking more to himself.

"Peter…"Olivia interrupts in a patient voice and he stops when he sees her mildly exasperated look.

"Right. My life is weird. But you already know that." He sighs with a nod. "Anyway to answer the question you're dying to ask but won't , it was long before you and I got together or even got ten miles within the radius of getting together… and she's married now." He hastens to add and she simply laughs.

"I wasn't dying to ask anything." She says categorically. "And since when are you so interested in Marine Biology research?"

"I happen to be interested in a lot of things. There's a lot more to Harvard than Walter's emporium of believe it or not." He gives her a teasing look. "Some of the brightest minds in the world work there. You'd meet the most fascinating people doing the most brilliant things if you took the time and actually got out of the basement."

"I'll take that under advisement." She nods with a smile. "You were saying something about a house?" She says then trying to bring them back to topic.

"Right, so I ran into her a few days ago and was telling her how we were looking for a new place and she told me we should check this house out. It's in Cambridge, really close to campus. Her husband's a realtor. I could give him a call, set up a meeting time for us to go look at it." He's already back on his laptop, trying to pull up information, but he pauses to look at her for a brief second.

"Is that okay?"

"That sounds great." She nods, ignoring the little flip that her stomach does.

One step at a time…

Olivia falls in love with the house the moment they walk into it.

It's like an intense head rush, reminiscent of a teenage crush that grips her, an enthusiasm that she didn't even know she was capable of feeling for a building of four walls and a roof, her approach to finding accommodations having always been strictly functional for the most part.

It's nothing like the old Bishop house in Cambridge, this one a lot more modern with uncluttered spaces, clean lines and large windows that allowed for ample sunlight.

But it's the same feeling that she's had all her all those time she had stayed over at Peter's place… the feeling of being home.

She keeps calm on the outside, as the agent takes them around. She can't gauge Peter's reaction yet. He has that unreadable poker face of his on as he asks the practical questions that she doesn't remember to ask, too enamored by the thoughts of living here.

Olivia wanders off on her own, while Peter continues to talk to the agent, not missing the fact that he's asking about the schools in the area. She makes her way upstairs, as if on instinct, finding her way to the corner room on the second floor which served as the nursery.

It hits her the moment she walks into the room, a longing so strong that it doesn't even compare to the early morning musing she had shared with Peter on a whim just a couple of days ago, the desire she has slowly but surely been nursing for over a year now, since that night she had kissed him in a bar.

And suddenly Olivia knows as she takes in the room, that this was the house she wanted. This would be their home, where they would bring their baby home from the hospital. This is the home in which she would raise her daughter…daughter… where she would read to her and put her to bed every night.

Peter could build a tree house for the big Ash in the backyard and they could tie a swing to one of the branches.

They could have tea parties in this very room.

She has memories of those. Sitting around a little table with stuffed animals and a two year old Rachel who kept upsetting her carefully laid out plastic tea set because she was too excited. Her mom would bake real cupcakes for them and her father would play with them too, after coming home from work, still in his uniform, sitting on a chair several sizes too small for him, where he pretended to sip imaginary tea and eat cupcakes with them.

It's a life she had had once, she almost forgets. A life that was every bit perfect and normal as it could get, when her father had been alive and she felt safe and protected and nothing could ever get to her because he was there to take care of her, to make everything better.

It's the kind of life she wants for her child. It's the kind of life any child should have, to never have to hide under beds and cower in fear, or lie in school about falling down and learn how to use concealer at the age of eight to hide bruises…or kill someone with a gun.

And just like that she's afraid, impossibly afraid of everything, of this happiness.

Its too good to be true, too good too last.

"Olivia…" Peter's calling for her, snapping her out of her thoughts and she turns around to see him standing at the doorway.

"He said we could have a few more minutes to look around."

She nods and she sees him look around the room, probably thinking about the same things she was thinking, a soft smile playing on his lips as he meets her eyes.

"This is the house I want." She tells him, trying to quell her anxieties and seem happy.

He smiles and nods. "Don't you think you'd like to see some more places before you decide that?"

"There's no need." She shrugs. "I want this one…if you do too that is." She adds,

He smiles again, moving closer to her, lips pressing against her forehead.

"I want what you want." He tells her.

"Okay." She nods, folding over into his embrace, shakily.

"Okay."

Its going to be okay. She tells herself, trying not to tremble violently as she feels happy and overwhelmed and so, so scared...

It has to be.