I ship Yellowverse Olivia and Lincoln now after Alone in the World. And if Peter doesn't come back (though I'm almost positive he will...) I want to see a buttloaf more of that couple. xD

So based on those feelings, this is what I came up with. I know SunnyWinterClouds wouldn't approve, but this is my story, not hers.
(If you're reading this, I miss being your beta...)

I will probably continue this later. If I don't, I'm going to go ahead and list it as complete. I've had this written down since the season premiere.

If anyone else can appreciate this couple, please review. Please!
As for the songs...pick what you want. I originally had three songs picked, but I figured it would be more fun this way.

Olivia Dunham flipped through the binder. Each page was protected by a transparent page protector, though some were stained with booze or beer or whatever else people had been drinking. She stopped somewhere in the middle of a page. Her finger flew down the two-column page as she scanned for a song. When she found it, she took the binder and pressed it to her chest, closed tightly so nobody could see what page she'd been looking at, then went back to her table. There, five others sat. One side had three people, and the other, hers, had two.

One of them was Astrid Farnsworth, Walter's caretaker and her best friend. The other was her boyfriend of two months, Lincoln Lee. Both worked for Fringe Division, like she did, but neither held the same job. Olivia was in charge of Lincoln, and Astrid was a consultant for them.

"Olivia, if you don't want to go first, I will." a kindly agent had volunteered and stood up.
Olivia looked up to see Astrid above her. She smiled. "Thanks." she said, handing Astrid the binder.
Astrid pushed it away. "I already know what song I want to do." she replied.

Lincoln sensed her discomfort and squeezed her hand. "Are you okay?" he mouthed. Olivia shook her head slightly, then mouthed a "We'll talk later." back at him.

Across the table from her sat her alternate. Mostly, people called her Liv. Across from Lincoln was Captain Lee, otherwise known as Lee, who also happened to be his alternate and Liv's own boyfriend, and across from Astrid's currently-empty place was Agent Charlie Francis. The bar-called the Wet Dog-was a place Olivia was familiar with. She often came down here and tried to socialize. Mostly, she just talked with Sean White, the owner of the bar that he affectionally called the Dog. He'd give her free whiskey on Mondays.

"Olivia." Liv's curious tone surprised her. "What song were you thinking of doing?" Neither of them was completely used to their temporary truce. They were more allies, or good acquaintances, than enemies now.

Olivia shrugged. "Actually, I was wondering…if maybe you'd like to do it with me?" she asked.

Liv shrugged. "What were you thinking?" she asked.

Standing up, Olivia motioned for Liv to follow her. "Here. I have it on a CD in my car…want to hear it?" she offered. Liv nodded and the two, posing as twin sisters, left for Olivia's car.

… … … … …

The second he was sure they were outside, Lincoln pulled the white binder towards him. He thumbed through the combination of plastic and paper, trying to find a song he knew but with little luck.

When he was about two-thirds of the way through the book, a name stuck out to him. He dog-eared the page, earning him a look from Astrid, and suddenly wondered how many questions he could get away with before Liv and Olivia got back from her car.

"So…" he began, feeling uncomfortable. "How…how long have you been working for Fringe Division?" he asked the group.

Lee shrugged. "Almost five years, now. Liv's been working there about four."

Charlie grinned. "I joined three days before him. Still didn't get a promotion."

Astrid giggled. "Four years for me. Same for Olivia."

Lincoln smiled. "Five months." he said, shrugging. "It's funny how we're the same, but…different at the same time. I didn't work up the courage to stand up to my boss for a promotion until after the…after my partner died. I miss him."

That sparked Astrid's curiosity. "What was his name?" she asked.

"Robert. Robert…Danzig." Lincoln said, hesitating. "He's probably still alive over there."

Lee slowly nodded. "He's…he's a field agent in the FBI. We could arrange for you to meet him, if you really wanted, I guess."

Lincoln shook his head. "No!" he said abruptly. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I don't want my memories of Robert getting messed up, you know? He was my best friend. He had a son and a daughter and a wife who he loved very much. If I met the other Robert, my head would be really, really messed up. Even more than this whole Fringe Division business has made it." he clarified.

Lee nodded, and then raised his eyebrows. "Liv and Olivia are back." he announced with a wink in their direction. Charlie elbowed him in the ribcage.

The two slid back into their seats, before Olivia stood right back up and walked over to the sign-up sheet. She wrote something on the piece of paper, counted how many names were in front of hers and Liv's, then headed back to the table. "After this guy, we're up next." she said. Liv nodded. "You sure?" she teased. Olivia rolled her eyes. "Positive."

… … … … …

Their singing earned applause and some confusion-the crowd didn't know why the two women looked almost exactly the same-but the confusion soon cleared when Olivia smiled, pointed to herself and Liv, and mouthed 'sisters'. Not that this was a huge deception to pull off-the two were almost identical, save for their hair and personality. They were easily sisters or cousins, even twins.

Liv pulled Olivia back to their table, and the two took their seats. Olivia had loosened up from the three double shots of whiskey, becoming the Olivia who Lee was familiar with. She was like Liv now, not Olivia. Lincoln had a feeling that this was an Olivia who would dye her hair red if he asked.

There was something about this…well, not drunk. More like carefree Olivia. There was something about her that made Lincoln Lee feel uncomfortable.

Olivia squeezed his hand. Until then, Lincoln hadn't realized that she'd been holding it.
"Lincoln. You okay?" she asked. He nodded absently.
"I'm fine. Just thinking." he said and felt a hand on his face, pressing it towards the side. Lincoln gave in to the pressure and found himself looking at Olivia's face, only inches from his own. She brought her face towards his and pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss.

"Love you." she said lightly.
He smiled. "Love you too."

Astrid excused herself to go to the bathroom. She felt uncomfortable watching her best friend make out, so she chose not to watch. Nor did she want to witness the serious kissing that she felt sure was about to take place between Liv and Lee. Agent Francis, being smarter than she, had escaped minutes earlier to play darts with a man old enough to be her father. Charlie was getting smoked, but he was having fun in the process.

And the happiness of her friends was what mattered to Astrid.

… … … … …

It was three in the morning when Olivia realized just how drunk she was.

Her lips had been almost permanently attached to Lincoln's. Their lines had slurred-he was beginning to be okay with this Livlike version of her. She was okay kissing like this in public. Kissing like this in front of herself, for crying out loud!

(Though Olivia had noticed that Liv Dunham was otherwise very much engaged.)

"Lincoln." she said softly.
"Yes?" he breathed.
"Should we go back to my apartment?" she asked.
Lincoln nodded abruptly, but stopped. "And leave Liv and Lee without accommodations?"
Olivia chuckled. "They can stay at your house." she said. This time, Lincoln laughed, but he cleared his throat loudly and waiting for his alternate to look up. He slid him the key.

"That should get you into my place. Address is on that card. Tell Astrid where we are, if she asks." he said, pointing to the little plastic square that was attached to the keyring.
Lee nodded, pocketed the key, and turned his attention back to Liv.

Lincoln stood up, offered Olivia his hand, and together the two walked back to her SUV. He, less drunk than she was, managed to drive them to her apartment, where they stopped only to take their coats off before fleeing to Olivia's king sized bed.

… … … … …

Olivia woke up with a mild headache and a warm arm draped around her naked torso.
"Hey." Lincoln's voice said from behind her. "You okay?"

Olivia smiled. "Absolutely fine." she said, turning over to kiss him.
At least drunk sex wasn't a problem for them. They weren't exactly a sex-free couple. But it wasn't like they did it every night! Okay. Maybe it was most nights. But still. If God didn't approve of sex, why would he have given them the parts to do it with?

Not like she was religious or anything, though.

She heard Lincoln groan as he got out of bed. "Headache?" she teased. He grimaced. "I must've had a freaking bottle of whiskey last night."
"You going to make me breakfast?" she asked.
This made him grin. "Cinnamon rolls in a tube okay?"
She smiled back. "As long as you're making them."

A while later, he came back with two cinnamon rolls covered in cream cheese frosting on a plate. Holding one out to her, he smiled. "It took me all of twenty minutes to make those, 'Livia. They'd better be good enough for you."
"Twenty whole minutes? Wow! It must've taken you forever to bake two cinnamon rolls, Lincoln Lee."

He smiled. "Take a bite. No poison, I swear."

She did, and chewed it slowly. That was when she chomped on something metal and spat it out, wincing.

"What is it?" he asked, instantly concerned, but with a smile on his face. Olivia picked up the metal object and turned it over in her fingers a few times. She noticed Lincoln was down on one knee on the floor.

"Marry me, Olivia?" he whispered quietly.
She looked at him with awe and love in her eyes. "A thousand times yes." she murmured.

He broke out grinning and pulled her down on the floor in his lap. She leaned up and kissed him, and both of them knew this was a moment they'd love forever. Olivia didn't know about Lincoln, but she'd never take a cinnamon roll for granted, ever again.