A/N: Okay, so I know with Bolivia's evil death mission she's supposed to be all gung ho and stuff, so pretend that they have happy personalities (after all it is called fan fiction) I've made Lincoln and Charlie all Christmas-happy :)
BTW this is my best attempt at drunk-talk.
Tuesday 21st December
The Fringe Division office had been decorated with the help of Charlie and Lincoln. Charlie had even convinced Colonel Broyles to wear a Christmas hat. Most of the agents had been sent home for the holidays, with the exception of Lincoln's team, the best of the best, just in case. Besides, Colonel Broyles, with his connections, knew that Olivia (with Frank away) was free, Lincoln had no known family and Charlie had already volunteered to stay anyway.
With the office so empty, Lincoln pranced around the room, singing-a-long to Christmas carols. Charlie groaned, rubbing his hands over his temples.
"I regret buying him that." Charlie moaned into his hands,
Olivia sat in her chair, feet on her desk, "Well I regret buying him that stupid holographic media player. Fat jolly Santa's and elves everywhere. You know, they look so real, but every time I go to kick one thenthey disappear!" Olivia complained.
As Lincoln sang out aloud the lyrics, another Elf appeared in front of Olivia, dancing to beat. Olivia picked up her (wireless) keyboard and threw it at the hologram. The keyboard passed straight through the little green elf, as it blurred and disappeared, the music scratched and skipped a few beats before settling again. Charlie just laughed at her annoyance. Lincoln glared at her, before walking towards her. He leant down, leaning over her desk.
"What's wrong? Why you trying to ruin Christmas?" he pouted at her, she couldn't help but smile at him.
"Maybe she's the Grinch in disguise." Charlie suggested. They all knew it. Olivia wasn't one for Christmas, but she did her best to hide it, only occasionally going off at someone, usually at Lincoln.
Olivia threw scrunched up paper at Charlie, hitting him in the face.
Lincoln looked at the time, 8:36. "Come on, Broyles said we're free after 8:30."
They all stood, Lincoln turning off the carols and placing his red Christmas hat snug on his head. Charlie just rolled his eyes, as they walked out of the door.
"So, what are you cooking us, Charlie?" Lincoln asked. Dinner the week before Christmas was a Charlie Francis tradition. Individually, they had no one, but Charlie made it traditional that they all had someone to celebrate with.
"Probably, just buy takeout as usual."
The drive to Charlie's was full of his and Lincoln's singing with Olivia's groans of disapproval.
Unlike Olivia's apartment building, Charlie's was not overly decorated. Charlie had managed to limit his festiveness to just a plastic tree decorated with coloured glass balls, limited tinsel and a few plastic toy reindeer and Santa's hanging from the fake branches.
Olivia had agreed to stay if Charlie kept the Christmas carols to a minimum, which he did, but once they had finished a bottle of wine, the carols played and Olivia sang with them. She wasn't completely out of her mind drunk, only three small glasses. But she had lightened up, her mood cheery and her willingness to sing Christmas songs with them, dance, twirl.
When midnight struck, Olivia was more clear-minded, still loose and cheery. Charlie had passed out on the couch and Lincoln and Olivia for forced to carry him up the stairs to his bed room, pull off his shoes and jacket and tuck him in. All the while, holding in their laughter.
Neither felt 'sober' to drive, so they crashed on the couch, watching crappy late night movies on Charlie's long-out-date television.
As they watched, Lincoln traced his fingers up Olivia's thigh, gently grazing over her hip. He moved his hand to the hem of her shirt, raising Goosebumps on her bare midriff. Olivia didn't move an inch, her eyes focused on the colourful Christmas pictures flicking across the screen.
His hand brushed up under her shirt, as he neared the edge of her breast, she moved suddenly. She pushed him back against the couch, kissing him fiercely. Her fingers ran through his hair as his pushed her shirt up her body. Olivia held her arms above her head as Lincoln pulled her shirt off. His fingers traced her left breast, kissing the top of it as he did. Lincoln's shirt fluttered to the floor, their bodies pressed together. Lincoln undid the button and pulled down the zipper on her jeans, slipping his hand inside them.
Their kisses got hot and heavy, Olivia's hands fumbling with Lincoln's pants, pulling the belt free.
They were too caught up in themselves to hear the stumbled footsteps on the stair case.
"Hay, giys, waz are yu dsoing?" he slurred, half asleep, the alcohol barely
They both turned to see drunken, half asleep Charlie stumbling down the stairs, clutching the handrail for dear life. They still clung to each other, their bliss shattered, but only slightly.
"Charlie! What –wha-" Olivia choked on words. Charlie and Frank were friends, if he found out, he'd probably tell him with one phone call.
"What this." Lincoln whispered into her ear, "Charlie, I am about to screw Olivia. Can you give us some privacy?" he asked, his voice calm, sure.
Charlie nodded obediently, turning back up the stairs, "I must be dreaming. You guys hate each other." He stumbled back upstairs.
Lincoln waited till he hear the door shut, before kissing Olivia again, picking up from where they left off.
Olivia pushed Lincoln away, standing up and searching for her shirt, "No, not—not here, not today." Lincoln pouted at her words.
"Charlie is upstairs, and-"
"You're not exactly quiet."
Olivia glared at him as she got dressed.
"Do I get a raincheck?" Lincoln asked hopeful.
"Maybe."
"But it's Christmas!"
"You'll have to wait to open your present." She teased.
Olivia kissed him quickly before gathering her things and walking to the door.
"You're not driving are you?"
"No, I'll walk."
Lincoln watched her leave, smiling to himself. Rainchecks always meant the next day with Olivia. She always came back.
