Summary: Set during 3x09 "Marionette". Olivia's emotional upheaval at the invasion of her privacy, and her life.

Tulip Petals
MATTERS OF THE HEART (1)

I need more dreams, and less life.

She closes her eyes, momentarily revelling in the gloriousness of the first sip of her coffee. As ridiculous as it is, she realises just lucky they all are to have the promise of good quality food and drinks at all times. When Olivia opens her eyes, she notices Peter scrutinising her, his brow furrowed, lips slightly parted as if wants to speak. As she raises an eyebrow at him inquiringly, he exhales heavily.

"There's something I need to talk to you about," he begins, his eyes dropping to study the plastic top of his disposable coffee cup. When his eyes lift, they are held with an unspoken apology. "About her."

Olivia's words die in her throat. Uncomfortably, she shifts in her seat, her fingers curling tighter around her coffee, seeking comfort from the warmth that radiates from the liquid inside. After recounting the entire tale to Broyles earlier that morning, she has no desire to even momentarily relive the doppelganger ordeal any time soon. Images of opened mail and rumpled bed sheets flash painfully through her mind, causing her to wince.

Peter seems to be oblivious to her discomfort, or he is ignoring it. From the distressed look in his eyes, Olivia can tell that this is something he has to share. He cannot remain quiet. "I noticed..." Peter pauses, swallowing loudly in the short silence that ensues. The movement is very visible, like he's trying to force the swallow around a lump that is building in his throat. "...changes. Small changes, but they were definitely there. She's..." Again, Peter's voice trails off, leading to a pause. His forehead creases into a frown as he seems to fish for words. A miniscule half smile briefly tugs one side of his mouth upwards. The expression is one familiar to Olivia, and it is enough to turn her innards cold. "She's quicker with a smile and just..." He struggles, trying to vocalise exactly what is on mind. This time, it is Olivia's turn to swallow uneasily. She is positive he is about to say something she'd rather live without knowing. She'd be perfectly content for him to stop talking and change the subject. But in typical Peter fashion, he continues. "I dunno, she's just... less intense, maybe. She said that when she was over there, when she saw her other life," Peter breaks eye contact, once again become engrossed in the sight of his coffee. "She that it made ehr wanna change. To be happier. And I believed her, because that made sense-"

Olivia cuts into his sentence mid-flow, unable to hear the rest of his justification. She understands why he would be confused - she had never really expected anyone to be able to differentiate her from from her doppelganger. What she doesn't understand, however, is why Peter feels obliged to tell her what he's saying. "There was no way for you to know," she reassures him with a smile. "Everything happened so fast, I don't even know how they did it myself. And that's ok." Olivia nods at Peter, smiling. She raises one shoulder in a shrug. "I'm here now."

As soon as the words leave her lips, Olivia realises that she means what she has said. The past is irrelevant. She is back where she belongs. Once again, she is the governor of her own future. But despite her assurance, she can tell that Peter remains unconvinced. He blinks slowly and swallows hard, his gaze flitting about the busy cafeteria, never allowing his eyes to meet her own. When he eventually finds his voice, it is soft and hesitant with worry. "When you asked me to come back to this world with you, you said-"

"-That you belonged with me." Olivia blushes. She knows her inability to acknowledge raw, true emotion is one of her many faults, but she manages a smile regardless. She meant it then. She means it now.

"And so I came back for you. For us." Olivia's smile freezes on her face. She remains still, paralysed as she listens to his words. "Then we started seeing each other... I managed to explain away all the differences, all the characteristics that weren't you because I told myself that we were different, our relationship was different..."

Peter loses his voice at the precise moment Olivia loses her smile. Inside, she is frozen. The cold is seeping through her skin. Tremendously, she forces herself not to begin shaking. When Peter finally regains his voice, Olivia can hear that he is pleading with her. Begging her to understand. "I thought she was you, Olivia, I-"

He breaks off, unable to continue. Horribly his eyes clash against hers. A moment of terrible realisation is passed through them. Olivia involuntarily convulses, the frozen feeling thawing to a heat that is steadily beginning to rise. "Does everyone know?" It is whispered, a voice as weak as her heart.

"I reported everything when I found out who she was." Peter's answer comes rapidly. If there is anything in the world that Olivia can commend him for, it is his honesty. She can tell from the anguish that shows through the cracks of his composure that he is being utterly truthful with her, but Olivia is unable to allow his honest to sink in. It sits in the space between them, hanging in the air.

Peter shakes his head, leaning closer to her across the table. "Olivia, I'm sorry."

Olivia shakes her head, making a futile attempt to dismiss his apology in a way that could be passed off as convincing. But the movement is too rushed and too frantic. She is repulsed by the invasion of privacy, that Fauxlivia has managed to infect and taint a part of her life that should have been closed off limits. "You know, she had a really full life," Olivia speaks quickly, the words tumbling from her lips. She tries to pull herself together, to allign herself into a picture of professional calm and composure, but she is struggling. Although he hasn't meant to harm her at all, Peter has crippled her. In that moment, Olivia wants to be vindictive. She wants to wound him.

"She had a really sweet boyfriend," Olivia shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "And if he hadn't of been out of town... who knows what would have happened."

The minute the words are out in the open, she wants to snatch them back. Peter has recoiled slightly, his expression faltering as the implied meaning settles in. Again he swallows hard, exhaling perhaps a little heavier than he would usually do. This is Peter, she tells herself. I can't hurt him. Hastily, she breezes on, trying to correct her spiteful comment. "She had friends, people who loved her, people who risk their lives simply to help her, and they all believed I was her."

Olivia frowns, biting her lower lip before continuing, trying to think of anything even remotely articulate to say. "So, you, um, I-I can understand how-"

"Mr Bishop?" Thankfully, Olivia is saved from floundering for a feasible end to her sentence by the clinically smooth voice of one of the medical staff. She hovers uncertainly at the edge of the table. The undercurrent of tension is blindingly obvious. "Dr Ross is out of surgery now."

"Can you just give us a minute?" Peter appeals for more time, turning away from her, ready to resume the conversation. He is leaning forward staring intently at Olivia.

Flustered, Olivia rapidly shakes her head, stumbling over her words as she hurriedly scrapes her chair back. "Peter, it's fine. We're good."

She stalks away, following the doctor, her blood burning with a combination of fury and grief.

It's not fine. We're not good.