Of Eggnog And Festive Flirting
Two : Say, What's In This Drink?
"We really need to stop meeting like this, sweetheart."
Damn him. Damn Peter Bishop to the deepest pits of Hell. He's met someone and he was only anxious to see her so that he could show off his new distraction and he's here now, messing with her and expecting her to be 'just friends' with him and for it all to be okay and that means no more annual one-night-stand, and damn it, the sex was really, really go-
"Once a year is definitely not enough of you."
Oh…
Oh.
Oh.
She moves to free herself again and this time he lets her, allowing her a first glimpse of him – and then she drinks him in, all Peter and charming and… festive. He's wearing a green sweater – a shade of green that actually looks good with his blue eyes – adorned with red detailing along the neckline and sleeves, and looks surprisingly… well, hot.
She quirks an eyebrow, an unspoken question in their silent Peter-Olivia language, the one they'd spent years perfecting and the one that, until this very day, only the two of them understand.
"Let's just say Walter was a little too determined to get this on me this year and actually mailed it over. And since the weather's crazy, I figured I'd just throw it on." He explains, shrugging as if it's no big deal. But they both know it is, to Walter.
"That might explain why he's pointing you out to everyone as his son."
"Actually, 'Livia," And there he goes again, pairing the nickname with a smirk because he knows it irks her (not anymore, ever since he left and she stayed to become an agent, but no way she's telling him that), "I'm pretty sure he's pointing both of us out, probably as a couple with some line about us being madly in love."
She blushes a deep, Christmas-appropriate shade of red and he grins, placing a light hand on the small of her back as he guides them to the kitchen in search of some edible food that his mother has surely stashed away.
Olivia moves slowly, just enjoying the familiar, warm imprint his hand leaves on her back as she puts more distance between them, leaning up against the wall as he hunts for sustenance. "Someone's hungry," She observes as Peter roots around the kitchen, knowing exactly where each and every single thing is, almost as if he lives here year-round.
It's only the two of them in the kitchen and he shoots her a teasing grin for just a moment before going back to the task at hand. "It was a long drive and I thought I'd get a bite before you decide to have your wicked way with me and hold me prisoner until tomorrow morning."
"Peter!" Olivia gasps, scanning for witnesses.
"Yes, sweetheart?" Really, Elizabeth is to blame for all of this; she's raised a son who's entirely too charming for his own – and Olivia's – good.
"You really shouldn't say stuff like that." She informs him, arms crossed and cheeks pale with no hint of rushing blood to them; finally, she's acting like the grown-up that she is.
"Because it makes you want me?" He questions from the depths of the pantry.
"No!" Peter quickly turns around and puts himself in her line of sight to shoot her a look of disbelief. "Okay, well, yeah," She shrugs it off. "But mainly because anyone could walk in and hear that!"
She thinks she might get a heart attack or something when the familiar clicks of heels echo across the wide kitchen.
"Hear what?" Elizabeth smiles warmly as she rescues her son from his current predicament and Olivia draws on every single bit of her self-control to keep herself from blushing.
"Oh, nothing. Just that Olivia's going to tie me up after this and have her way with me." He peeks out from around Elizabeth's back to wink at her and she glares, uncertain of what else she can say – certainly nothing because it would only make the situation worse, right?
"You children," Elizabeth smiles indulgently, slapping Peter's hand away from the unprepared food she's brought out for him. "I remember how everyone always thought you were together, and you'd work it to your advantage. Still playing the same game, I see."
Peter chuckles and Olivia's heart starts beating again, He looks at her with bright eyes as if to say, see, nothing to worry about.
Screw you, she mouths.
Later, he smirks.
Damn it, Peter Bishop is going to be the death of her.
"Elizabeth makes the most amazing eggnogs." Olivia decides much later when she is sipping down her third or fourth; she isn't keeping count.
"Wait until you try mine. Her family secret with a dash of mad Bishop genes. The perfect combination." He brags, shooting her that heart-stopping smile again.
"If by mad Bishop genes you mean pharmaceuticals – and home-grown ones – then no thanks." She says quickly, her eyes dancing across the room, taking in the strangers and a few familiar faces. Peter lets out a short laugh from his spot next to her and she wonders if she can sit any closer to him on this couch without drawing attention to their comfortable proximity– both Astrid and Walter have made sure to 'check up' on them numerous times this evening.
"It's… weird," Peter muses from his spot right next to her. "The way they're looking at us." He elaborates when he catches sight of her questioning look. "It's like they're waiting to see if we'll suddenly stop laughing, or look away from each other and act awkward."
"Maybe," Olivia offers. "Maybe it's because that's how two friends usually act after they…" She trails off, unsure of just what it is they're doing.
"After they sleep together?" Peter throws in boldly, his smug smile replaced by a concerned look when Olivia chokes on her drink.
"You-" She coughs out, trying to regain her composure. "You really need to stop talking like that." Peter nods seriously, as if he'd even consider listening to her.
"But?" He prompts.
"But…yeah," She concedes. "You're right. Most friendships usually become awkward when it's as… messed-up as ours."
"That's because we're not like 'most friends', 'Livia. And we've never really had the time to be awkward about this." Peter smiles as her grip on her drink lets up slightly. "I mean, we spend, probably, 48 hours or less together in a year. And most of those hours aren't exactly filled with conversation." He smirks, eyes bright with mirth.
"So the way I see it, we don't have time to be awkward."
"Huh," She nods slowly, taking it in. "You might be right, Bishop. Now that you bring it up, I barely see you – ever."
"I know. Which is why…" He pauses for added drama.
"Which is why…?"
"I might be moving back to Boston."
"Seriously?" She smiles brightly only to regain her usual, deep-in-thought look because if Peter moves back to Boston, then they'd have plenty of time to be awkward.
"What's wrong, 'Livia? I expected you to be smiling for a whole lot longer than two seconds about me coming back. Think about it – we'd do all that crazy stuff we always wanted to do but never had the chance to as kids." And then he pauses, as if something's just occurred to him. "Or are you worried that you won't be able to hide me from your boyfriend?"
"Maybe you're the one freaking out about a secret girlfriend." Olivia retorts. Yes! She speaks! A triumphant grin is kept on the inside as she maintains a serious front which, to her surprise, is matched by Peter.
"There is no girlfriend, Olivia," He admits with furrowed brows. "Hasn't been for a long time. I mean, all this time, you didn't think that I – did you? I mean, while we were… did you have a-?"
It's cute to watch him be the speechless, stammering one for once, but she quickly rids him of his doubts. "Nope. Never. There hasn't been a boyfriend for a long time, either."
And then they sit in their comfortable Peter-and-Olivia silence, the kind that could never grow awkward, even when you turn and find the other openly staring at you and you feel like you should say something, but maybe not.
"Amazing." Peter mutters after a few beats, prompting Olivia to look up and observe him with a curious smile on her lips.
"What?"
"In some weird way, we've been like this monogamous couple for the past few years – a faithful monogamous couple who only meet once a year."
A monogamous couple – she hates to admit that she likes the sound of that more than she should. This is Peter, her best friend Peter, Peter who she, sure, occasionally sleeps with but still – Peter! The kid who used to play with toy airplanes and admired her stick figures and stole her cookies – that Peter!
Only he wasn't as practical as he is now, back then when he played with toy airplanes. And he certainly wasn't as charming as he is now, back then when he complimented her childish work. And he certainly, certainly wasn't as attractive as he is now, back then when he stole her cookies.
And those things he does to her… he certainly didn't know of back then.
He's waiting for some sort of response, she realizes when he turns to look at her. "Weird." She comments, echoing his earlier sentiments.
"So… what do you think – would you be able to handle me full-time, Agent Dunham?" He grins playfully, relaxing.
"Full-time?" If Peter thinks that being in the same area means free days together, then he's certainly in for a shock once he realizes just how much she works. She barely has a life, actually. Walter's Christmas party is the only socializing she willingly takes part in every year – other than that, it's all Bureau-related (and mandatory) affairs.
"Full-time." He nods. "I can't wait to see how it's like to work with you guys. Walter might be a pain but Astrid told me he has his moments… sometimes."
But she isn't listening; stopped listening after he mentioned, oh-so-casually, working with her. In the lab. Every day. Every hour.
"Peter," She interrupts with an indulgent smile. "I work in a confidential division – one that isn't supposed to exist. It's not as if you can just waltz in, drop in a copy of your impressive resume and get a job."
She's afraid she's hurt his feelings – or pride – when he remains silent for thirty full seconds. "I thought he told you," Peter mutters eventually and now both of them are confused. There's one thing about Olivia Dunham: she hates being confused.
"Who would've told me what, Peter?" She asks and it comes out harsher than she had intended for it to.
"Your boss, or something. Broyles. He called me up and offered me a civilian consultant post. Said you need a partner and it would really help if I would consider." Peter quickly fills her in, and though she remains quiet, she's surprised that Peter would give up his nomadic life and move back to Boston just because her superior told him that she needs help.
She has a million questions but only one can't wait. "And you took it? The post?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. 'Livia, I don't want to invade your space or anything. I mean, you don't talk much about it but this secret division of yours is everything to you. I wouldn't want to just barge in. That's why I told Broyles I'll talk to him after the holidays – after I talked to you."
"So… would you like to have me around all the time, bugging the hell out of you, asking for a gun?" And then he smiles that boyish grin, the one that's convinced her to skip lunch, secretly dispose of vegetables and later on, lie to his parents about their whereabouts. And she's done for; not that she wasn't going to agree in the first place, but that grin of his just sealed their fates.
"I don't know, Bishop. That part about you bugging me for a gun sounds like it'll get on my nerves." She teases, and they both know she's going to say yes, sooner or later.
"I'll try to keep the bugging to a minimum. C'mon, 'Livia. You and me against the world, remember?" And then she softens, because she hasn't heard that in so long.
"The last time you said that-"
"-Walter had just enrolled you in my school after the accident. And no one would be friends with you because they'd heard of the fire. So you came to me, close to tears, and you admitted that you were scared of losing me. And then I said…"
"It's you and me against the world; always has been, always will be." Olivia finishes, caught up in ancient memories from a lifetime ago, back when her faith in Peter hadn't been a sure thing and children were the single most evil enemies she would ever face.
"Yes," She finally nods, her voice just loud enough for him to catch her words. "Yes, Peter, I would love for you to come work in Fringe."
"I'm beat."
He isn't, and she knows, but his mother doesn't.
"Alright, Peter. I've got your room all set up, so you go get some rest. Olivia, your old room is ready for you, darling. Just head on up anytime."
"Thanks, Elizabeth. I think I'll go chat with Astrid for a while first; make sure this one," She playfully nudges Peter, "gets to bed first and doesn't try to scare the crap out of me with some crazy prank."
"Ah," Elizabeth sighs fondly. "Those days seem like a million years ago." She bids her son goodnight and Peter does the same, throwing in a 'see you in your dreams, Dunham' over his shoulder as he climbs up the stairs. Olivia excuses herself to make small talk with Astrid for all of three minutes before she decides it should be alright for her to go up now.
"I'm exhausted, Astrid. See you after the holidays?" Astrid, unlike her, actually has family to go visit and friends to meet and all those normal holiday-errands to run.
"Exhausted." Astrid scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Go get some hotness, Liv. See you next year." Olivia briefly considers some sort of protest, but really, why even try when it comes to Astrid? So she smiles and nods and climbs up the same flight of stairs Peter had just ascended a few minutes earlier, working to keep her steps slow and heavy and tired – all the way until she gets into her room, the one next to Peter's.
Her overnight bag sits on her bed, the same one she had slept in night after night for years. The quilt Elizabeth had made for her is proudly displayed over a huge chest, full of tiny things she doesn't quite have the heart to throw out nor take away from the Bishop home. She quickly pulls out a sweatshirt and comfortable pants before heading into the bathroom and comes out a while later, clean-faced and ready to fidget in her bed for the next hour.
And then she falls asleep.
"'Livia?"
Olivia jumps up, crazy reflexes kicking in before her brain can process the fact that Peter's the one calling her name – her nickname.
"Peter," She sighs, her heartbeat slowly steadying. "I fell asleep." She admits, scooting aside to make room for him as he closes her door behind him.
"I figured. You look like crap, sweetheart."
"Way to make a girl feel better, Bishop. Is this what you say to every single female friend before you sleep with them?"
"Nope, just this one gorgeous but crazy stubborn best friend of mine who needs to realize that weekends should be free of paperwork."
Her heart skips a beat when he calls he gorgeous because Peter has always been the only one to throw out compliments at her just like that – sincerely. And then his words sink in.
"Hey!" She protests as he slips under the covers, propping himself up to face her. "I don't do paperwork on the weekends."
"Think again, 'Livia. You even brought your paperwork here! As if I'd let you out of my sight long enough for you to even complete a sentence."
"So what? You're gonna lock me in for the next twenty-four hours and go on and on, hoping that your parents won't a) walk in on us and b) miss us during Christmas dinner tomorrow?"
"Later today, actually, and that sounds like a great plan. But I don't know… I think four rounds is your limit."
Her eyes narrow as she shifts her frame, easing into a position that allows her to tackle him should she need to.
"Is that a dare, Bishop?"
"Totally, Dunham."
And then he pounces on her.
Just one more chapter left. I hope you can all use your smart, creative imaginations to fill in the blanks, because there will be no smut. Or lemons. Or sex-scenes. Just, you know, in case you didn't understand the first two terms; thought I'd make it clear. Chapter title from my favorite classic: Baby, It's Cold Outside. As some of you might know, the next line is 'I wish I knew how to break this spell' and it was a close call between these two lines for the title, though I finally settled on the first line simply because it fits in nicely with the first part of the chapter.
So… how about we do that gift exchange thing again? Chapter for review? Review for chapter? *squeal* It's almost Christmas!
E Salvatore,
December 2011.
