A/N: I hate doing this to you, but I feel that this introduction is necessary before you proceed with reading this story. If you've reached this page, then you must be well aware that this fic contains explicit adult content, and that it is between two consenting individuals of the same gender. If you do not ship slash, or like to read that sort of thing, I recommend that you turn and run as far from this fic as fast as you possibly can, for your own good. I had some difficulty writing this fic, because you cannot exactly easily differentiate between two characters with the same name, so if it becomes cumbersome to read for you, or I get enough complaints about it, I can take it down, re-edit it, and then re-post it to make it easier for you to read. This is also only my second femslash fic that I have written in my entire life. Ever. Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated so that I can understand what I'm doing right, and what needs work/improvement.
This fic is the result of mean and nasty little plot bunnies that refused to leave me alone for the last month and a half. It is inspired by a song by artist Natalia Kills. That song is called 'Mirrors'; hence the title of this fic. I highly recommend you check out that song if you don't already know it. Also, I find Natalia's song 'Kill My Boyfriend' to be very fitting for O². Furthermore, once you read this fic, you will see that I have included an address in it. I have not invented or made up this address, it is a legitimate address to The Hollywood Motor Inn, and if you're a visual person, or just interested, you can find their page via google, and look at pictures of the room I used as the setting for this fic. Once you're on their page, find the link to view their rooms, and then click on the picture for The Arabian Room. That is the room I envisioned when I wrote this fic. The HMI is only about an hour outside of Ellis Island, just so you know, so I figured it would be a good location to set the story.
Additionally, this fic has been dedicated to three lovely women who are all very dear to me. The first is Ambre, who has a special anniversary to celebrate today. I would not even be here posting this at all if it weren't for her. I don't know what I'd do without her. The second is Pearl, who is legitimately my twin, because we are literally leading parallel lives. I bounced so many ideas about this fic back and forth with her, and she kindly endured my obnoxious texts about searching online for sex motels with mirrors on the ceiling while simultaneously encouraging me. The third is Lori, who is all kinds of wonderful, and if you're at least minimally astute, and pay close enough attention, you will see what I deem to be a clever reference to her within this fic. If it weren't for the inspiration of her intense ability to write super hot smut, this fic would have remained in my head.
Last, and most importantly, are the disclaimers. I DO NOT OWN FRINGE, IN PART OR IN WHOLE, IN ANY WAY. It belongs to its respective, rightful owners. I've only borrowed two of its characters for the evening and that was only mentally. I do not own the song 'Mirrors', nor do I own its lyrics, which comprise the opening quote of the following fic.
Oh, and P.S. - Surprisingly enough, this fic does not feature Peter in anyway, shape, or form. It takes place after 4.02 and before 4.04, but implies that the Olivias had to work a case together again, this time over on our side. I'm actually admittedly shocked Peter didn't find his way into this, because I am incredibly fond of that nakedly beautiful now-existent man. Oh well. I guess no man can come between O²!