A/N: I don't own Fringe. If I did, the show would still be going...
After Etta's eyes sleepily drooped shut and her breathing became even, Olivia quietly stood from her place next to Etta's bed and slipped out the barely open door. As she walked down the stairs and into the family's kitchen, Peter called out to her, not bothering to turn around from his place at the stove, "You know what was on the top of the kid's Christmas list, don't you?"
Olivia grimaced, "She hasn't let that topic go yet? I was hoping if we just didn't make a big deal over it, she would forget about it for a while."
Peter chuckled, "Well, ever since Nathan Anderson's baby sister was born, Etta's had her mind set on it. A couple hours ago she even asked me, 'Daddy, I really want a baby, you know. Can you pleeeaase ask Mommy to get one in her tummy?'" Peter imitated her high pitched voice and threw his version of Etta's pleading look over his shoulder at his wife who smirked in response.
"You know, you're like putty in her hands," she retorted with an eye roll. "Soon enough, I'm sure you're gonna join her in asking about that." Olivia's smile faltered a little as her forehead creased with stress.
Placing the completed food on a plate and pushing it towards Olivia, he sat down next to her at the kitchen island. "Livia, I want to know what you're thinking right now. Why do you look so worried?" he asked, imploring her face for more information and resting his hand on hers.
"I'm just… overwhelmed with the new case, you know?" she sighed. "Plus, we still have no leads on Walter's whereabouts other than the videos he left." As soon as she brought up his father's disappearance, Peter's face fell. "I just feel like it's not the right time to consider bringing a new life into the world when we are barely keeping up with the one we have already. We've already got our hands full with taking care of our perfect little girl sleeping upstairs," she said, bringing a smile to both of their faces. "And digging up more information on Walter. And the new cases we've been getting the past few weeks. And not to mention, there's talk about reopening the bridge, collaborating with Walternate once again since we're no longer in danger of David Robert Jones tearing a hole between our universes anymore," Olivia tiredly rambled off the list she fed to Peter every time he brought up the possibility of having another child.
"I understand what you're saying, Liv, but you always just shut me out when we have this conversation," Peter said, visibly exasperated. "I know it doesn't feel like the right time. But other than that, do you really not want another baby?" Peter's voice softened as he continued, "I've never seen you happier or more at peace than when Etta was born. And you're just so perfect with her; disciplining her so she won't be spoiled, but always so loving and caring… I just would love to see you like that again," he whispered.
"Peter, I—," her voice cut off and she sighed. "I know you're ready. And Etta's ready. But… I just… I don't know if it's the right time for a baby, you know?" she looked up at Peter from underneath her eyelashes as he cupped her cheek reassuringly.
"If everyone waited for the 'right time' to have a baby, the world's population would be decreasing exponentially," he reassured her softly. "There is no right time for a baby. Especially not for people like us, who know too much about how messed up the world is."
Olivia raised an eyebrow at him. "Is this supposed to be convincing me to bring another life into the world, or talking me out of it?"
"I just mean to say, you're overanalyzing what it means for it to be the right time. We're married. We have a beautiful, healthy daughter. We have stable jobs. Not to mention we're just about to reach the age where it would be considered a high risk pregnancy, so it's better to do this sooner rather than later. I think this could be the right time, for us."
After pausing to contemplate his words, Olivia exhaled slowly, "I'll consider it."
Peter tried to not let his smile get too wide, as to not scare her off, "That's all I ask. Now, Mrs. Claus, I think it's about time we get all the presents set up under the tree. Would you care to accompany me to the basement and bring them up?" he asked, smoothly changing the conversation and clearing her plate.
"I don't know if we'll even be able to reach the tree with that monstrosity in front of it," Olivia replied with a pointed look at the fort Etta and Peter had built. Peter laughed in response.
"Don't you worry about Fort Bishop. Etta left Santa a note on the coffee table to say that if he couldn't get around it, he could just leave the presents at the entrance," Peter responded, gesturing to the piece of paper propped up with the name 'SANTA' scrawled out in her three-year-old penmanship. "She even left the old man milk and cookies."
"So we're doing this whole Santa thing by the book, I see," Olivia muttered, "Where did you learn all of this? I can't quite picture Walter wanting to do something so trivial as nurturing the belief in Santa."
"You're correct. He wasn't quite as fun-loving back then to say the least. But my mother always said that a healthy imagination leads to a creative mind," he called as he headed down the stairs. "Now are you gonna help me with this or not?"
Olivia smiled and shook her head as she got up from her seat and started towards the stairs.
A/N: Thanks a ton to muggleindenial28 for the review! Unfortunately I had this chapter written already and kinda skipped over Etta's storytime ;) Maybe next time I'll include one of those!