Chapter 2:

The walk to the restaurant was quiet, both them lost in thought. Occasionally their knuckles would brush or their elbows would touch, but they did not hold hands. Something was bothering her, of this, Peter was certain.

Olivia's expression seemed frozen and her movements were stiff, as if some stranger was wearing an Olivia Dunham costume. Peter had to hide a moment of alarm when he realized, that the way things were going, someone very well could be wearing an Olivia Dunham costume. Memories of Charlie haunted him for a second, but he shoved them away, "Olivia…" He tried to think of something to ask her or something to say, anything to break the silence, to ease her nerves, though he did not know what was bothering her.

She glanced up at him, her eyes searching his for some sort of sign, again he did not know what she sought in his gaze, didn't know what was troubled her, "Yes, Peter?"

He stopped walking, his hand moving to her elbow to stop her movement. She turned, facing him, her expression unreadable, "Are you sure everything is alright?" It occurred to him that it was quite possible that Walter may have said something to her that suggested his hopes for their future wedding and was glad for the fact that he no longer seemed capable of forming a blush. Too much had happened to him for such an innocent bodily reaction to embarrassment. Plus, he was really great at poker; he knew how to control his body's responses to certain stimuli.

"Yeah, Peter. Everything is fine. Why?" She gazed up at him as she spoke, staring into his eyes. She didn't try to dodge the question or escape his gaze. Olivia Dunham had a pretty good poker face of her own.

He sighed, "I don't know…you just seem…distracted. Look, if Walter said something to worry you…"

Olivia shook her head, smiling wryly, "What, you mean like the fact that he's a heavy sleeper?"

Peter sighed, his smile rueful, his chuckle soft, "Yeah…about that…"

"Peter, you don't have to explain."

"I just don't want you to think that I expect anything…like that. Walter was just being…Walter. He really likes you, Dunham…he thinks…well, let's just leave it at that: he likes you a lot. He's weirdly excited about us…spending time together…Wow, this is really awkward. I'm going to stop talking now." He turned away from her, "You know…I was actually considered kind of smooth before I started living with Walter…"

His words seemed to break through whatever thoughts had been troubling her, the fake smile mask fell from her face as her eyes lit up with humor, "You mean having Walter around hasn't boosted your popularity with the ladies?"

Peter laughed, though instead of running with the lighter mood, he felt like he needed to make something clear to her. His expression grew serious, though a faint smirk still turned the corner of his mouth, "I haven't really been interested in anyone in awhile, Olivia. Not since meeting you."

Her smile stayed and she linked her arm with his, "Come on…let's go eat. Have some drinks…see where it leads us." Her voice was husky and soft and he felt a thrill run through him at the sound. Though he knew he was not a sufferer of tachycardia, he could have sworn his heart sped up and skipped a beat.

-

The restaurant was quiet, calm, and intimate. A nice change of pace for them, considering they'd spent the last few days in a merged building around a guy who had reminded him inappropriately of the little guy from Total Recall. If that poor man had opened his eyes and said, "Open your mind…" Peter would have walked out; sure that it was some nightmare. Unfortunately it had been all too real.

He turned his thoughts away from unpleasant memories, hard to do, considering how many of them he had to choose from, and instead turned his attention to Olivia. She really was an amazing person and it wasn't just because she was the most beautiful woman in the restaurant or the fact that she could probably kick his ass without breaking a sweat.

She sat across from him, calmly sipping her wine and eating her dinner as if she didn't just save over one hundred people from disappearing into another dimension. It hadn't been easy for her, either, he remembered the expression on her face, the look of fear in her eyes at the thought of failing them. Though she seemed so capable and assured, Peter knew that compartmentalizing their tasks did not come as easily to Olivia Dunham as people might assume. She took every case personally, mourned every person they lost, blamed herself alone for every failure.

"This restaurant is fantastic, Peter. Thanks for bringing me here." The candle in the center of the table cast a warm glow on her features. Her hair was down and it fell about her shoulders in silky waves. The effect made her appear softer and less controlled.

He knew he was revealing far too much in his gaze, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. Just as he couldn't stop the words from tumbling from his mouth, "You really are the most beautiful…amazing woman I have ever met."

Her wine glass was half way to her mouth and her hand stilled at his words. She seemed to freeze for a moment and he worried he'd said too much. Revealed too much.

The words she said next were not at all what he was expecting, "Peter…" Her hand slid across the table, her pale, elegant fingers brushing the top of his knuckles, "Let's get out of here."

That husky quality was back in her voice; her eyes were liquid blue, revealing that perhaps, his feelings were reciprocated. For once he didn't worry about Walter; he didn't worry about the possible complications that could rise. All he thought about was her, wanting her. He nodded, turning in his seat to get the attention of their waiter as he passed, "Can we get the check, please?"

"Certainly," The waiter returned quickly and Olivia's hand did not leave his, her eyes did not stray from his face. He took the check with looking at the man and missed the waiter's knowing smile. He glanced down at the bill, freeing his hand from the warmth of Olivia's grasp to pull the wallet from his pocket and pay the bill. He dropped the cash on the table, unconcerned about getting change, and moved to pull Olivia's seat out and help her into her jacket. Her hand felt oddly tiny in his as he led her slowly out the door.

There were no words shared between them as she hailed a cab and they sat, fingers entwined in the backseat. She told the driver the address to her apartment and he was glad that they wouldn't have to face Walter again that night. Something had transpired between them, he was sure of it. He didn't like to have them at odds with each other. His faith in his father was tenuous at best, though he really did try. The experiments he'd done on Olivia in Jacksonville had filled him with disgust and anger. It was hard for him to reconcile the Walter he knew now with the Walter he had been then. The fact that he had experimented on Olivia when she was a girl, had hurt her so, filled Peter with rage. If she hadn't seemed to need him to steady her, if the mission hadn't been so important, he would not have let Walter's past discretions slide.

He'd had to remind himself that Olivia Dunham was more than capable of standing up for herself. She didn't need a knight in shining armor to slay her dragons. What she needed was a friend, steady, reliable; she needed someone to keep everyone working together smoothly, someone to enable her to do what she needed to do. If she needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there, a sounding board for her anger or a punching bag for her pain, he was there. He was her own personal cheer leader and well spring of good intentions, of confidence in her abilities, and desire for her to succeed. He supposed he was much the same for Walter and he liked the idea far better than that of a beleaguered baby sitter.

They arrived at her apartment building and Olivia paid the driver. He watched as she slid out of the seat, admiring the way her jeans hugged her hips and thighs. Her movements were fluid, cat like, and Peter was entranced.

She took his hand, tugging him gently forward, "Peter…" His name on her lips was a husky whisper, dripping sensuality and desire, "Are you sure…about this?"

His hands went to her hips and he leaned his forehead down to touch hers, "Isn't that supposed to be my line?" He asked, his voice just as husky as hers, his smile tender.

She pulled back to stare into his eyes. He could feel the touch of her breath on chin, "Peter…"

He closed his eyes, nuzzled her cheek with his nose, "Olivia…I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life."

Her breath rushed out as if she'd been holding it, it tickled his cheek, hot, warm and inviting. He found her lips, pressing with gentle passion, more questioning than demanding. This is your last chance to turn back…

Her response was unexpectedly passionate, though he should have expected she would throw herself into kissing the same way she threw herself into everything. Was there anything this woman wasn't good at? Not that he was complaining.

He let go of the last bit of his controller, seizing her body against his, his hands sliding up underneath her jacket to hold her closer, fingers digging into the soft fabric of her shirt, seeking the warmth of her skin, the smooth plane of her back.

She pulled away after a moment and began to lead him up to her apartment without a word.

Neither of them noticed the pale, eyebrowless man across the street, watching their movements with a clinical disinterest.