The hotel is luxurious. She flops on the bed and sinks into the blankets like clouds. Or like floating in a sensory deprivation tank, she thinks. Either way, she barely wants to get up. Possibly ever.
She does get up when the masseur comes. It's ninety minutes of actual heaven. She melts into the warm bath the masseur prepared and drinks the white wine and ice water sitting by her side. She first thinks of Peter when she wonders how much he paid for all this.
Then she blanks out everything, dries off, and gets under the expensive covers. She sleeps well for once and wakes up still feeling like she's been wrapped in the softest cotton. The worst part is getting dressed and leaving.
"That was pretty excellent," she says, nearly laughing, after the next time they have sex. Peter insisted on a better class of motel. The bed is not disgusting but it's nothing compared to the hotel. "Almost as excellent as my hotel and massage, by the way. Thank you again."
"You are thanking me for something you said I owed you," Peter says.
"I didn't mean it," she says.
"Sometimes it's hard to tell," he says. But the part of his face she can see from her point of view shows he is very nearly smiling. "We've been doing this a while."
"I know," Olivia says. She sits up and looks around for her clothes. He fucked her against the wall, her front pushed against the ugly wallpaper. Naturally, all her clothes are three feet over, near the door. "Is this your longest relationship?"
Peter rolls over onto his back while she gets off the bed and starts picking things up. He finally says, "Maybe."
"Does that mean it is and you don't want to say it?"
"You've said more than once you like pushing me around, you like being on top -"
"I've never said that," she says. "The being on top part."
"I think you know too much about me," he says. He sounds like he's joking.
"Are you scared to admit it?" She turns around as she gets dressed. He is still lying naked on the bed, now looking out the window. It's a view of a parking lot and short squat office buildings.
"Fine, yes, longest job of my life, longest relationship if that's what we're calling it." He sits up and looks at her. "Are you planning to use that against me?"
"Why would I?" She throws his clothes at him. "I just want to drive us home."
"I dunno," he says. He gets dressed and sits on the edge of the bed. "Too much time with Walter, I guess. I'm more paranoid than I used to be."
"I don't think you should be paranoid of me," she says. It feels like a more weighty statement than she had intended.
"Okay," he says. He is looking her right in the eyes. She wonders if he noticed her considering and reconsidering what she said.
She tells Rachel she's not interested in Singles Together. Rachel looks up from her divorce papers and blinks away tears. Rachel says, "Are you willing to admit you have a boyfriend?"
"If it makes you feel better," Olivia says. "Sure, I have a boyfriend."
"It does make me feel better," Rachel says.
Olivia almost tells her not to say anything to Peter but it sounds ridiculous in her head.
They're in yet another hotel. Peter pushes her hair behind her ears while she lays on top of him, grinding her hips down. He reaches down and pushes down his pants and boxers to his thighs. He's hard and she rolls against his dick, her underwear already wet. "You need to get these off," Peter says, his hands tugging at her underwear.
"Fine," she says. She sits back on his legs and pulls them off. Then she spreads her legs and lies on top of him again. He reaches down between her legs, gently teasing her clit. She inhales and exhales, want and need coiling in her. She shifts again to guide him into her. "Shouldn't we be more efficient at this?"
They go slow and then fast and then they are both finished. He says, "Was that not efficient?"
She lies on her side, one leg over his. He squeezes her butt. She likes this part a lot. When they can just be. She doesn't snuggle though she's pretty sure Peter would if she gave him a chance. She says, "I meant all the getting in the right spot, right position. We've been having sex for months."
"Is that a goal, efficiency?"
"Not like that," she says. "I don't know, don't listen to me."
Now he runs his hand up the back of her thigh. He says, "I wish we could just once fall asleep in the same bed and not have to rush off. But that would require a lot more sanity from Walter than I think I'll ever see in my life." He gently moves her off to the side. He gets off the bed and says, "Speaking of the man I am basically shackled to …"
"Is that how you feel about Walter, really?" She sits up and watches Peter get dressed.
"Sometimes," Peter says. "When he's babbling about his favorite strawberry milkshake recipe it's easy to forget he experiments on children including you and me, the way he treated me growing up. He's just a goofy child in an old crazy man's body who is also brilliant and should be kept away from explosives. But he's actually not. And mostly, yes, I would like to regain the ability to spend the night where I want."
It's sobering enough that she gets off the bed herself and starts getting dressed. She says, "He experimented on you? Did you get cortexiphan?"
"No, I mean, growing up, he hooked me up to car batteries to accumulate data. Like everyone does with their ten year old son," Peter says. "And I need to think about something else before you drop me off to listen to whatever nonsense Walter is saying to get to sleep tonight."
She starts seeing the other side, a completely different universe. Stanford Harris is blessedly dead. She doesn't feel bad for him. She lashes out at Walter and regrets it as soon as she leaves. Finally, Peter kills David Robert Jones.
She has free time, she has an empty apartment. Rachel and Ella are settling into their place. She sits on her bed. Peter calls saying, "Walter is on another walkabout and we don't have a case. You could come over here and spend all day with me. Maybe even the night."
"This is what you do with your day off?"
"Have sex with beautiful women? Well, gambling is out unless I really want to travel," he says.
"You know, Rachel has her own apartment now," Olivia says. "We could spend the day together here."
"Every minute we spend on your place or mine is less time we are naked," Peter says.
"Come over here," she says.
"Decision made," he says.
"I realized," Peter says as he comes in. "I realized that over here we have a much smaller chance of Walter coming in without knocking."
"But there's still a chance?" Olivia pulls him in close. "No belt."
"No underwear either," he says.
It's a delightfully naked day. They try out a few new positions. He compliments her flexibility, she admires his stamina. They even take a bath. Peter says, "Now I'm starving."
"Is that another come on?"
"No, I'm genuinely hungry," he says.
"I could go for Indian," she says.
"You always want Indian," he says. "I want pizza."
"I can do pizza," she says.
Then they do nothing at all. She is back to her morning before he called, but this time she is listening to Peter describe this one time when he was in Iraq. She says, "Are you going to confess to breaking the law to a federal agent?"
"I'm not going to now," Peter says.
She picks up the remote for the tv. "Pick something to watch."
"I am going to guess you're not interested in sports." He flicks past a few movie channels. "This one has comedy and adventure, according to the description."
"Good enough," she says. She pulls a blanket over them and leans against him.
She wakes up because Peter's phone is ringing. It's dark except for the TV still showing something. "Peter," she says.
"I don't want to wake up," he mumbles.
She puts his phone next to his ear. He reaches up and says, "Hi, Walter. Yes, I know it's you. Are you home now?" Peter rubs his forehead. "Tell me exactly where you are," Peter says. He stands up and starts looking for his clothes. "I'll see you soon."
"Walter," she says.
"Is in Somerville, at a Taco Bell. He doesn't have any money and he really wants a seven layer burrito," Peter says. "Because why would I get 24 hours to myself?"
"Have fun," she says. She wraps the blanket around her and walks toward her bedroom.
He pokes his head in. "I wasn't wearing underwear when I came over, right?"
"No," she says. "You were very proud."
"Not so much proud as ready to perform," he says. He smiles at her. "Sorry for whining, I'll see you later."
They actually have cases, more seemingly random occurrences and weird science. But they have weekends, too. Peter calls on a Saturday morning. "Come over here. I talked Astrid into taking Walter to some sort fruit pie festival."
"I actually have plans," she says. "Rachel and Ella are coming over and we are going to a street fair."
"I don't mean to invite myself along but if there's face painting -"
"Do you want to come?"
"Only if you want me to," Peter says.
"I didn't invite you because I thought that would mean Walter and the longer I can keep Walter from Rachel the better," she says.
"I could not agree with you more," Peter says. "But Walter has pie."
"Then I am inviting you," she says.
He arrives at the same time Rachel and Ella do. Rachel has can't stop smirking at Olivia and Ella won't detach from Peter. He doesn't seem to mind very much. Two minutes after they get to the fair, Ella is sitting on Peter's shoulders. "I'm so tall," she says.
She notices Peter's firm grip on Ella's legs. Peter says, "You are absolutely taller than me. Tell me when you see the face painting."
A half hour later, she and Rachel are sitting with lattes watching the fair go by. "I am enjoying that your boyfriend is doing all the parenting today," Rachel says.
"He seems to love it," Olivia says.
"Do you think it's disturbing that he really wants his face painted?" Rachel grins at her. "Is that a kinky thing?"
"No," Olivia says, firmly. "Not at all. I think he enjoys being with someone childlike who is actually a child."
"As opposed to?"
"His father," Olivia says, sipping her drink. "Which is all I am going to say about that."
"Hi, hi, hi," Ella says as she runs up. Her face is painted like a butterfly. Peter, who is right behind her, has cat whiskers.
"You call that face painting?" Olivia stands up and touches his cheek.
"I'm afraid of scaring Walter," he says.
They have a pretty great day. She walks him down to his car. He leans against the door and says, "That was fun."
She kisses him goodbye, right there in the street. He still has those ridiculous whiskers on his face.
In August, they get a call about a mysterious death on the western border of Massachusetts. "It looks like the same type of death we saw when David Robert Jones was opening and closing portals," Broyles says.
"Like how Jones himself died," Olivia says.
Walter refuses to leave the lab. He doesn't like the sound of it. He locks himself in the bathroom. Peter is exasperated. He says to her, "Maybe we don't take him with us. Astrid stays, we go."
Walter calls from the bathroom, "I like that plan. It's an excellent plan, Peter. Tell Agent Dunham we should do that. And you will send me samples. I will specifically need certain atmospheric samples."
She and Peter take a tiny plane across the state. She says, "You know you're getting what you wanted."
"One of the most frightening plane rides of my life? Not actually on my wish list," he says.
"I mean, we're working the case just the two of us. Out here."
"I hadn't even thought of that," Peter says. "Now more than ever I just want this plane ride over."
They land without incident. She tells him he was being overly dramatic back on the plane.
"Overdramatic would have been confessing all my sins before death," he says. "I didn't even get to the short list."
Then the sheriff greets them, looking downcast. Olivia shows her ID. She introduces Peter as a consultant. The sheriff says, "Consultant?" He lights a cigarette. "I'll take anyone. This is gruesome."
"We saw the pictures," Peter says. One body cut off at the neck and shoulder. One arm, cleanly severed about the elbow. "And there were samples -
"I took some," the sheriff says. "My deputy got sick so it was just me. I am very glad you are here to deal with this."
"Can you take us there?"
The sheriff keeps smoking while he drives them in his car. Olivia gets out of the car as soon as she can. She pulls out the pictures to figure out where the body and body part were. She looks back to find Peter. He is standing with the Sheriff, talking quietly while they both smoke.
Peter comes over and opens his case. "I see blood and vomit, and something else. I really hope Walter does not tell me what that something else is." He puts on his gloves and starts taking samples.
"I didn't know you smoked," Olivia says.
"Just trying to calm him down," Peter says.
"It looks like someone closed on a portal again," Olivia says. "But who can even open one? Besides Walter."
"William Bell travels between universes, apparently."
Olivia says, "And I'm still waiting for Nina to call and set up my meeting with him."
Peter starts walking around the perimeter, poking at things. He calls Walter. She only hears Peter's side of the conversation. It's more physics and quantum this and that. She doesn't see any signs of the equipment Jones had.
Peter puts his phone back in his pocket. "It's getting dark, we should head in."
"What does Walter say?"
"He has a number of theories I will explain over dinner," Peter says. "Massive Dynamic is sending us some specialized gadgets in the morning. And I need to send these."
It's not getting dark, it's nearly pitch black. They stop at the sheriff's station where Peter arranges to get the samples he took back to Walter. Across the street is a lodge with a Vacancy sign.
They walk into their room with their take out food from the diner two miles away.
Olivia digs into her food. Peter says, "Walter has a number of theories. The worst one is that our universe is imploding and falling apart. But if that were the case, we'd be seeing violations of the laws of physics around the wormhole. Which we didn't. Smoke went upward, dropped things fell down. Objects in motion stayed in motion. Next worse theory, someone actually opened a door to the other side like Walter did. Not to overstate, but there aren't many people who can do what Walter did and he doesn't even remember how he did it."
"So that seems to be out because there is only one Walter Bishop," Olivia says.
"On this side, yes. Remember, you said you saw Charlie and Broyles when you flashed over. And Charlie had a scar he doesn't have on this side." Peter eats for the next minute. "So maybe there's another me and you and Walter. Which is weird to think about. Do you think the other me has a cool scar?"
She says, "Back on track, please."
"Walter says he thinks that the effects of that first door he created were more destructive on the other side. I think Walter knows more than he is telling, frankly. I never know if he does that because he's justifiably ashamed of what he's done or he just doesn't remember."
"You don't think it's both? Maybe he tells himself it wasn't so bad," she says.
Peter reaches out and holds her hand. "If the destruction on the other side is worse, then that side could be experiencing spontaneous wormholes and violations of the laws of physics. Maybe someone even fell into a wormhole."
"I don't get it," Olivia says. She doesn't let go of his hand.
"Basically, when you violate the laws of physics in a big way, like opening a door to a parallel universe, theoretically, there would be consequences. Lots of consequences. Some of which might be actual holes in the fabric of reality. So one of those holes forms and you're just out hiking in the parallel universe Western Massachusetts and you take a wrong step and bam, you're here."
"Literal bam as it closes. Do the holes close?"
"Probably, maybe," Peter says. "You know this is all wildly theoretical."
"But it happened," Olivia says. "Do you think it was more than just those two?"
"We're missing some armless person at the very least. Walter was very firm that someone could survive that." He lets go of her hand and finishes off his dinner.
Ten minutes later, he is getting into the bed. "I have to tell you, Olivia, I am way too tired to perform up to my usual standards. So you're only getting snuggles out of me tonight."
She actually laughs at that. She brushes her teeth and changes into one of her college tee shirts. She gets into bed next to him. "This was your wish," she says. "Sleep together with no interruption."
"Which I am getting," he says. He pulls her closer. "We have plenty of time to have sex."
"I set the wake up call for 5 AM," she says. He is a snuggler.
"Of course you did," he says, kissing her forehead.
She wakes up when the phone rings. It's their wake up call. She has a text message from the sheriff that he will come by at 7 am. She opens her laptop and stands by the table, watching it boot up.
"Bend over," Peter says from behind her.
She does. She even wiggles her butt at him. He walks up behind her and grabs the sides of her underwear. "I am taking these off," he says. "Unless you don't want to."
"I want to," she says.
"Good," he says.
He pulls her underwear off and pushes up her tee shirt. She rests her head on her hands, ass in the air. She feels his mouth and tongue first. Then his hands, spreading her legs more. He licks from her clit to her opening and back again. Circles and circles and her knees are shaking. Then his fingers replace his tongue and she is quivering and sweating. "Fuck me," she says.
"If you insist," he says, his voice impossibly low. He enters her in one quick hard stroke. She reaches between her legs to rub her clit while he thrusts again and again. She comes panting, pressed against the table to keep herself up. Then he comes and sags against her.
"Stand up," she says. "We both need a shower."
"Absolutely," he says. Round two in the shower is slightly less vigorous but equally satisfying. Then the hot water starts to run out.
They manage to snag breakfast before the sheriff shows up. Peter says, "That's a good morning."
"It was," she says. "Now back to work."
"We're looking for someone who lost an arm and possibly one, two other people. But according to Walter, for most people, traveling between universes takes a lot out of you."
"Like David Robert Jones?"
"Not nearly that bad," Peter says. "It won't kill you."
Peter's phone rings and it's Walter. The conversation is fairly short this time. "Walter says he identified four blood types from the samples. One is the dead woman, one is the woman who lost her arm and the other two are men."
Peter and Olivia help the sheriff and his deputy do a grid search. Olivia finds the first body. It's a woman with no arm. She uses her walkie talkie to alert the county coroner. Then Peter comes over the walkie talkie saying, "I've got two bodies. Men. Honestly, it looks like they literally puked their guts out."
"Thanks for that image," Olivia says back to him.
After the bodies are taken away and sent to Walter, Peter opens the box from Massive Dynamic. "With this, we should be able to tell if any of the wormhole is left over. Or, if Walter's worst case is true, we'll discover a rip in the fabric in the reality that signals the complete destruction of our universe."
"Why do you look so cheerful when you say that?"
"Because I'm fairly sure it's not true," Peter says.
Charlie calls her while they drive a borrowed county car to the wormhole site. "Hey," she says. "What did I do to deserve this?"
"I just noticed you were out in Western Massachusetts with your boyfriend," Charlie says.
She wants to say no, he's not, but it's Charlie. She says, "Yes, I am on a case. I discovered a body today."
"I found two," Peter says. "Make sure to tell him that."
"Tell your boyfriend I heard that," Charlie says. "I have the IDs on your dead arm and dead body from yesterday."
"Let me guess, they never existed."
"You're wrong. Both of them are in the system. In fact, they're both in prison, right now. I had an agent check and they're both still there," he says.
"Wow," she says.
"I think the world is getting too weird for me," Charlie says.
"At least you're not pregnant," Olivia says.
She watches Peter wave things around and check readings. He turns to her and smiles. "World is not falling apart. Let's catch that death trap of a plane home."
Walter spends the next week worrying about the end of the universe. He flip coins over and over again to make sure that things are still random. He also refuses to let anyone touch the clothes or other items from the other side. Peter tells her Walter actually snarled at him when he tried to look at one.
She is in bed with Peter when Nina finally calls. "Nina interruptus," Peter says.
It is more post coitus interruptus, Olivia thinks. She listens to what Nina says, says "thank you," and hangs up. "She wants me to drive into Manhattan tomorrow and then I can meet with Bell."
"Want me to come?" Peter says. "Pun not intended, I swear."
"Nina said to come alone and not tell anyone," Olivia says.
"And you've already violated part of that. Come on, I'll just drive in with you, wait outside."
She looks at Peter. She says, "I don't completely trust Nina."
"That sounds like a yes," he says.
It is. He's almost always good company, she tells herself.
The morning she drives in, he starts listing questions she should ask William Bell. "Did he write the manifesto? Is it his fault the ZFT went out without the chapter of ethics? How involved was Walter with the cortexiphan studies because I think Walter is lying to us when he keeps insisting that Bell was in charge."
"I think that last one matters more than you than to me," Olivia says.
"It still matters to you a little," Peter says.
A car cuts them off and Olivia swerves. She says, "What was that?"
She looks over and Peter is gone. There's no sign of him. She swerves again, parking illegally. "Peter?" She tries to call him on her phone. She tries to call Broyles and Charlie and Astrid -
Someone (William Bell the World Trade center) tells her
Something shecan'tremembershecan'tremember
She wakes up terrified. "Where's Peter? Peter?"
She sees Rachel, a stranger, then Peter. "Peter," she says. "I need to tell you. I need my gun." She has to tell him something. The whole world is in danger. Peter whispers in her ear and holds her head. She has to do something.
She falls down a well again.
She wakes up. Peter is by her side, holding her hand. She says, "Peter. Where did you go?"
"Hey," he says. He reaches inside his jacket and passes her a gun. "I am probably not supposed to do this, but you ask for things, I just do it. Apparently I like being pushed around."
She takes it and puts it under her pillow. "Where did you go? You were in the car."
"The way I saw it, you were in the car and then we swerved and you weren't. I crashed your car, sorry. And then you weren't there for nearly an hour," he says. His voice does not sound as casual as he probably wants it to. She is sure she sounds like a raving lunatic when she talks.
She says, "But I came back."
"You shot through a window. You were nearly dead. You were very very close to dead," he says. He is holding her hand again, gripping it so hard it hurts. "Rachel and I would prefer you not do that again. And Ella, I'm sure, if Rachel had told her how close it was."
"I don't remember that," she says. "I don't remember anything, Peter. I went somewhere, though, and I can't remember."
Peter swallows and looks down. "Maybe Walter can help with that."
"I'm scared," she says.
"I know," he says. "But you're here now and Charlie is going to be here and Broyles assigned you a guard."
"That won't help," she says. She closes her eyes and breathes in and out. "Sorry," she says.
"Sorry for what? The thing about very nearly dying is that you could pretty much spit in my face and claw my eyes out right now and I would still be happy that you were alive to do it," he says. He still has a death grip on her hand. It's starting to be reassuring.
"I don't want to claw your eyes out, I promise," she says. "Should I want to?"
"No reason I can think of," he says.
"Good," she says. She sounds less shaky, she thinks. "You look like hell."
"I haven't really had a chance to clean up the last 25 hours or so," he says.
"Was I out that long?"
"It was yesterday, yes," he says. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"No," she says. She moves her hand away from his. "But I like, I like having you to push around. I can't do that in good conscience when you look this bad."
"Okay," he says. He stands up and leans over to kiss her hair. "I will go and shower and change. And then I will come back."
"Good," she says. "Come back."
Charlie comes and sits with her. He tells her a story about when he was a cop. He says, "Your boyfriend was a serious mess when you were nearly dead."
Olivia doesn't even think he's not my boyfriend this time. "It's sweet," she says.
"It's nice that someone gives a shit about you, everyone likes that," Charlie says.
A nurse comes in. A nurse tries to strangle her. Then jumps out the window after being shot by a female agent. Olivia pulls her gun from the pillow and confidently loads it, waits for someone to try that again.
Peter comes back, showered and shaved in fresh clothes. He looks sad. She has never seen him look so sad ever. She doesn't want to ask. He is going to tell her something horrible.
"The thing that attacked you was a shapeshifter. A soldier from the other side," he says. He sounds on the edge of tears. She is bracing herself. She is not saying anything, she wants to hold off the inevitable.
"It killed Charlie," Peter says. "I'm sorry." He holds her tight against his chest. He is shaking. Maybe she is shaking, too. One of them is crying.
Two days later she is not supposed to leave the hospital, but she insists. She is not missing Charlie's funeral. Peter pushes her in the wheelchair. It's a very nice funeral, she thinks. Very nice. She's an idiot. She's useless.
Everyone leaves, even Charlie's wife. Widow. It is just her, Peter, and Broyles. Peter steps away, rubbing at his eyes. Broyles sits down next to her. He says, "It was a nice funeral."
"I was just thinking very nice," she says. "Peter said, when they found the shapeshifter, it was already Charlie, it looked like Charlie. And Walter has found that the shapeshifters have mercury for blood."
"You're mostly up to date," Broyles said. "We also managed to save the Fringe division."
"That's good," she says.
"You should have your boyfriend take you back to the hospital," Broyles says.
She fiddles with her coat's belt. "You're judging me for that."
"No," he says. "I think we both know those regulations are made for a world that is not the one we are in."
"Okay," she says.
Peter takes her back to the hospital.
When she is actually cleared to leave the hospital she doesn't feel any better. About anything. She is angry all the time. She is angry all the time and Peter puts up with it. She feels angry and guilty. She says, "Who is taking care of Walter while you're here every night?"
"Walter is getting better at taking care of himself," he says. "Also, he's usually awake when I get home."
"I don't need a babysitter like Walter," she says.
"I'm not babysitting you," he says. "You get that you nearly died, right? The doctor said you were brain dead and Rachel was going to turn off the ventilator. So, no, I'm not letting you out of my sight, if I can. It's not babysitting, Olivia."
She limps over to sit next to him on the couch. She says, "Even Broyles knows you're my boyfriend."
"I'm your boyfriend?" He puts his arm around her, his grip is too tight. "Don't make me tell Walter."
"He might even figure it out," she says.
"When you feel better, you can come over and spend the night now that I have my own room," he says. "Then he'll definitely figure it out."
She stands up with effort. "Nina gave me a name. Someone who helped her. I am going to give that a try."
He nods.
When she gets back from meeting Sam Weiss, he's fallen asleep on the couch. She wants to lie down next to him but she would rather sleep in her own bed. She pokes his leg with her cane. He wakes up with a grunt. "Ow. Jeez, Olivia, I'm up."
"I want to sleep in my bed, with you."
He smiles. "Okay, what my girlfriend wants, my girlfriend gets."
xxx
Peter opens the door. He says, "You're here. Dinner, dinner, if anyone deserves a fancy dinner, it is you." He leans in and kisses her. "I am going to get my coat."
He is glimmering.
Walter says, "Please don't tell him."
Olivia says, immediately, "No."