Olivia was on her way to being fairly drunk. Her mind felt cloudy and she barely remembered dancing in the dingy bar, and then she was in a cab, arm resting in Peter's, his smooth voice slurring slightly as he told stories of growing up with Walter.

Olivia's usually confident stride had turned into more of a stumble as they had made their way from the cab into her apartment. Hanging off of each other, using the walls to prop themselves up, they laughed their way to her front door, wiping tears from their eyes at Peter's memory of the time Walter got too high and wouldn't get out of the bathtub because he thought it was a boat. Olivia's stomach hurt, her cheeks felt strained and her cheeks were damp with her tears of laughter. Blury eyed, she reached for her keys and after missing the lock twice and dissolving into a fit of giggles, she made it through the door.

Throwing her coat onto the couch, Olivia swayed into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Closing it again, she saw Peter taking in the sight of her apartment from the middle of her lounge.

"SSSSo I'm out of beer." Oliva slurred slightly, her voice still husky and low. Pulling her hair band out, she shook her hair and ruffled her hand through it, twisting around while biting down on her cheek. "But I know there's some whisky around here somewhere."

Peter nodded slowly, removing his jacket and running his hand through his own hair, making it stand up at all angles. He tossed his coat on top of hers and moved into the kitchen, catching her squat down to rifle through a cupboard.

"Aha." She chimed, standing up, glass bottle in hand, filed with an amber liquid.

Peter raised an eyebrow, he was tipsy but still coherent enough to think that this might be getting out of hand. This was Oliva, his FBI handler. Though, Peterthought he wouldn't mind being handled by her. Peter grinned at the idea and swayed a little, catching ahold of the counter, maybe he was drunker that he thought.

Olivia opened a cabinet and reached up for the glasses on the top shelf. She moved onto her toes to try and reach but Peter saw that short of climbing onto the counter, she wasn't going to reach them. Peter moved towards her and took the shot glasses in his fingers. Looking down he realised he was pressed flush against Olivia, her ass against his crotch, his arm shadowing hers in a stretch. Peter froze. She hadn't mentioned what had happened in the bar the whole ride back, and it had taken at least half of the ride to get his erection to subside.

Peter moved back and placed the glasses on the bench. Olivia turned and he noticed her eyes were sparkling, it was a dangerous look, one filled with so many questions, eyes that could see right through him.

" .. I have to use the bathroom" Peter stuttered "But pour me one"

Olivia nodded, a sly grin flittering across her face.

"Down the hall." She said slowly, her mouth moving as she tasted every word, licking her lips when she finished. Peter nodded and swallowed hard.

Oliva turned to the counter and poured two glasses of the whisky, quickly drinking one back before pouring herself another. She was tipsy, horny, and the cute guy she had been working with for the last few weeks was in her apartment.

Not to mention, less than an hour ago she was dry humping his hand in the darkened corner of a bar, his erection pressing into her with every sway of his hips. Olivia shuddered at the recent memory, the feeling of his hot breath on her neck, his strong arms around her, holding her steady as his fingers made slow circles over her nub. Olivia hit the counter with her fist, her skin was prickling all over and the warmth between her legs was throbbing repeatedly. Olivia threw back another drink and took the cap off the bottle to pour another one.

"Getting a head start on me?" Asked Peter, his voice smooth and low, carrying over the table between them.

Olivia made a split second decision and quickly lifted her hand to twist open two of the buttons on her shirt, exposing the cups of her bra and the small smell crevice between her breasts. Olivia licked her lips and turned to face Peter, glasses in hand.

"If you want it-" Olivia said, holding out a glass to Peter and dropping her voice even lower. "Come and get it."