(A/N: Okay, this story is major AU. Honestly, it was just something I came up with out of nowhere and went with. I like the premise, but it would require too much changing of the actual storyline to even start to place. Just…fill in the gaps with whatever comes natural. I tried to stay as close to actual while still being in a whole other dimension. Reviews are greatly appreciated, please include chapter names for my benefit. Sidenote, this is her biological father, not the abusive stepfather. No one likes him.)

Olivia Dunham was nervous.

It made no sense. She battled the impossible and saved the world on a weekly basis, head held high. But the fluttering in her stomach and the dampness of her palms were unmistakable.

She even let Peter drive. That's how nervous she was.

He hummed idly to the quiet rhythm floating from the radio, seemingly oblivious to the torment Olivia was feeling deep within herself.

But she should've known better than to doubt Peter Bishop, especially when it came to her.

"You okay?" he prodded lightly, already gauging an answer on her reaction.

She heaved a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm good," she lied.

"You're lying, but okay." He pretended to let it go, but she knew that even while driving he was watching her minutely, trying to figure out what was really wrong.

She saved him the trouble. "I'm a little nervous," she confessed, shrinking back into the leather seat.

He chuckled. "Aren't I supposed to be the nervous one?" After all, I am meeting your parents."

Olivia glanced out the window, stalling her response. She recognized their surroundings immediately, and started to calculate an ETA, partly to distract herself and partly because it was habit.

"Hello? Earth to 'Livia?" his voice faded into her ears.

"What?" she asked, missing something.

"I asked how much farther we go."

"Oh," she said. "Just up ahead, take the second right." She pointed her finger in the direction she wanted him to follow.

He nodded and continued driving.

Olivia noticed that the closer they got to the house, the more nervous she felt. It wasn't the only thing she felt, but it was certainly one of the strongest.

And when they pulled up out front, she could've sworn her stomach contained a gymnastics event. The only thing that eased her was Rachel's car already in the driveway.

Rachel knew Peter. Rachel liked Peter. Hell, even Ella like Peter.

But the second they reached the bright red door, Olivia found her skin crawling and the back of her neck tingling.

Peter grabbed her hand and interlaced their fingers, standing still a moment before reaching up and rapping his knuckles against the painted door.

They could hear a boisterous giggling, and Olivia let slip a smile before the door swung open to reveal her father, Ella draped over his shoulder and trying to wiggle out of his grip.

"Olive!" he boomed at her, grinning widely. "And Peter!" he added, the smile not slipping but a mischievous light glinting in his eyes.

"Hi, Dad." Olivia stepped over the threshold and past her father and niece, pulling Peter behind her with an iron grip on his hand. He didn't say anything, but a gentle squeeze when they entered the living room of the cozy house sent a small jolt of reassurance, and something else, through her.

"Hi Uncle Peter!" Ella called, still over her grandfather's shoulder but no longer struggling.

Rachel emerged then from the kitchen and rushed at Olivia, pulling her into an embrace. "Hi," she whispered next to her ear. Olivia released Peter's hand to return the hug, and when they pulled apart Rachel smiled at her sister. She turned to Peter. "Hi, Peter. Good to see you," she said, still smiling.

"You too, Rach," he replied, smiling back.

The girlish giggling resumes behind them, but now Ella's fleeing her grandfather's tickling fingers.

She rushes at Peter, and he bends to catch her mid-stride, swinging her up and onto his waist. Her pencil-thin legs wrap around his torso, and, somehow, Peter seems to hold the child with an amount of ease.

"Oh my! Ella, are you getting taller? I swear, you've grown two whole feet!" he jokes.

"That's because you're holding me, silly!" she shouts, and pokes the tip of Peter's nose with her finger. "Silly Peter," she says, quieter, and it's almost endearing.

Olivia struggles to pull her eyes from the pair, but forces herself to turn and disappears into the kitchen. She finds her mother standing over the stove, stirring something slowly.

"Mom," she breathes out, and the woman turns to her.

"Oh, Olive." She crosses the small kitchen and embraces her, rubbing her hands in slow, calming circles over her elder daughter's back.

"How are you?" she asks, still tucked against her mother's shoulder.

She pulls away just enough to look at Olivia. "I have both my daughters and my granddaughter under one roof, how do you think I am?"

Olivia smiles, and her mother turns to go back to the stove. Wooden spoon in hand, she asks, "So, where's Peter?"

"Uh, he's out in the living room with everyone. I should probably go check on him."

"Okay, sweetheart."

Olivia reappears in the living room, where Peter and Ella have begun a game of checkers while her father sits back on the couch.

"So, Peter, what do you do for a living?"

Peter makes a move, jumping one of Ella's pieces. "Um…"

"He's a consultant. He helps out with cases," Olivia interjects.

"Yeah," Peter agrees. "My father and I both do work with the FBI, on occasion," he says with a slight smirk.

A silent look of agreement passes between the two, and Ella's brow furrows in thought as she looks at the board.

"I like Grandpa Walter. He's silly," she says dismissedly, and then jumps two of Peter's pieces and beams in triumph.

Olivia takes a spot beside her father on the couch and Peter's seat on the floor.

He leans back against her legs and she places a hand on his shoulder, her thumb discreetly brushing against the nape of his neck.

"So, Olive, what's the FBI got you doing nowadays?" her father asks, leaning in and putting his arm up behind her shoulders.

Olivia swallows, "Oh, you know, just catching bad guys," she half-lies.

"Oh, I'm sure you're just being modest. You probably save the world on a daily basis."

Peter coughs.

"Whatever you say, Dad," she adds quickly.

Ella makes another move, and looks up at Olivia. "How's Gene, Aunt Liv?"

Olivia smiles. "Gene's good. Walter took her on a field trip just a few weeks ago."

"Who's Gene? Another agent?" her father asks.

"Gene is a cow, Dad," Rachel says, returning from elsewhere in the house. "She stays in the lab where Dr. Bishop works." She takes the remaining seat on the couch beside her sister.

"A cow and a lab, huh?"

"My father's a scientist," Peter explains.

"We do experiments with Astrid!" Ella exclaims.

Olivia turns to her father, "Another agent."

"Ah," he says. "Your father sounds like an interesting man."

"You have no idea," Peter whispers and Olivia smacks him gently, causing Rachel to giggle.

Marilyn pokes her head out of the kitchen and calls, "Dinner's almost ready. Girls, can you help me dish up?"

The two sisters stand, Olivia tousling both Peter and Ella's hair on her way to the kitchen.

Rachel is handed a stack of plates while Olivia gets the silverware, and they set the table for six. Next is food, a large dish of spaghetti in the center of the table, a plate of garlic bread on the left and a bowl of salad on the right.

The remaining members are called in and sat at the table. Everyone is served and digs in to the home-cooked meal. Idle chitchat passes between the group, laughing over childhood memories of Olivia and Rachel and an amusing, yet slightly disturbing tale of Walter singing to Ella and Gene makes Olivia and Peter exchange nervous glances, but her father simply bursts into laughter.

The meal winds down and Marilyn excuses herself to begin the dishes. Peter offers to help, and isn't dissuaded at all when the eldest Dunham woman tries to insist on performing the chore alone.

Ella volunteers to dry, and Olivia, Rachel, and their father sit at the table and continue talking.

With dinner dishes cleared, Ella happily announces that dessert will consist of apple pie and vanilla ice cream. Olivia and Rachel end up with those dishes, but Peter jumps in to help with drying.

They reenter the living room to find Ella and her grandfather started on a game of checkers with her grandmother sits on the couch with her reading glasses and a book.

Eventually, the game is finished and Ella is herded off to bed by Rachel.

Olivia and Peter say their goodbyes and thank yous.

In the car, Olivia opts to drive them back to the hotel. She takes Peter's hand in hers. "Thank you," she says, "for all this. Tonight was fun," she adds with a smile.

"Yeah, it was," he agrees. "You had no reason to be nervous."

The drive back to the hotel is quiet.

In their room, Olivia stops Peter just inside the door and pulls him against her, lips meeting his with a passion that he hadn't anticipated.

When they break apart for air, he whispers, "Wow."

She smirks at him and pushes his jack off his shoulders, leaving it abandoned on the floor as they move in the direction of the bed. She continues to undress him until he stops her with an equally intimate kiss, her jacket and shirt quickly shed.

Everything after is a tangle of bodies and discarded clothes and bedsheets. Somewhere, between kisses, Olivia leans in to Peter's ear and whispers, "I love you."

He grins at her. She'd expressed the sentiment before, but never said it in so many words. He kisses her neck and, breath warm against her neck, he whispers back, "I love you."