It took Liv a moment to realize what was happening. She thought the way everything seemed to ripple around her was a result of Olivia's lips pressed hard against her own, her tongue tracing the roof of her mouth. She was too distracted by the taste of her. A melding of coffee and Mint. There was a bitterness to it that made her toenails curl. She was enveloped in the smell of her. She smelled of some sort of flower; too soft to be perfume, a shampoo perhaps.
No matter how hard she pulled at her hips, she couldn't get close enough. Her nails dug into Olivia's ass, ever trying to increase the pressure, the friction. From the moment Liv met this Olivia Dunham she had known two things: they were two points that should never ever touch, and if they did, the explosion would be magnificent.
She was so caught up in the tangling of limbs and the sensation of skin sliding against skin that she barely noticed the world shimmering out of existence for the second time that evening. For a long moment she vibrated at a different frequency, out of sync with the rest of reality, and then everything just slipped away. The once warm water was now ice cold. She was no longer caught in an embrace of passion, but one of necessity. Olivia was limp in her grasp, her head rolling into the crook of her neck as Liv made to carry her from the tank. She waded through the water and propped open the hatch; the fresh air a sublime relief.
She carefully placed Olivia on the ground. Liv went to grab her gun, and did a sweep across the lab. It was quiet; he was gone. Perhaps he had found what he was looking for, but for now she had other concerns. Now that she could see the blonde, the vision alarmed her. Her face was so pale, lacking any of the flush that had previously graced her cheeks.
Jumping back and forth between universes appeared to be very taxing on the body. Within seconds Liv was kneeling at her side. She slowly lowered her head down until it was a breath away from Olivia's. The warm exhale against her face came at a great relief. She was still breathing. Rising to her feet, Liv had to use a table for support. Olivia wasn't the only one low on energy. She didn't bother to suppress the shiver that overwhelmed her body, rolling down her soaked frame. Liv picked up a towel that had been lain out. Bending back down to Olivia, she gently wrapped it around her. Being only in her underwear, Olivia's skin was covered in goosebumps and was cold to the touch. Liv slid one hand under her shoulder blades and the other beneath her knees. It took a few moments, but she managed to get to her feet with Olivia draped in her arms. Olivia's head once again found the crook of her neck; Liv fought the distraction of a warm breath against her drying pulse point.
As Liv neared the couch she couldn't help but crack a small smile, Olivia was almost exactly equal to her in mass, which meant Liv was able to lift her own weight. Wait until she told Charlie. When Olivia was settled on the couch, Liv sought out a change of clothing. Her top was over her head before she reached the back office. She knew that was where Walter kept the towels. She doubted it had changed. Walter wasn't much for change. She pulled the towel to her face and inhaled deeply.
It wasn't the technological or cultural differences between their universes that had made her feel the most out of place when she had been here. It was the little things. It was the way fresh laundry smelled. It was the way the air felt, thicker, like every movement took just a bit more effort, like the very air was fighting her presence. She leaned against the wall for leverage as she sought to remove the cargo pants that clung to her like a second skin. She dried herself, absently humming an old lullaby under her breath as she did so. Once dry she began rummaging through cupboards in search of something to wear. Walter would not take kindly to her borrowing his clothing, but she wasn't going to face a shape shifter in a towel. She spared a glance to the phone on the table; she had a call to make. She wished she were on her side, with her people.
When she emerged from the back office, she was dressed in pajama pants and an oversized tee shirt. Her walk was haggard, lacking its usual bounce. She wasn't sure how much longer she could remain standing. She didn't know how to move forward, Broyles had made it clear that she and Olivia were to stay here. No universe jumping this time. She had neglected to mention how they had gotten back. Her fingers idly traced over her lips. They were rough, almost raw. She smiled, but it faltered.
Liv ran her hands through her hair; while she was here, she might as well make some coffee. The caffeine withdrawals when she had returned home had been frustrating, more so because Lincoln and Charlie had seen fit to tease her mercilessly for her jitters, claiming she had been spoiled by the extravagance of her mission. There was truth to it. She got to wake up every day without worrying about a hole being ripped open in the universe. She got to eat fruit out of season and have coffee every morning. She had missed the efficiency her world's technology allowed, and she despised that Fringe division here was not top dog. She did not care for answering to a long chain of command.
Liv sat on a nearby table, drew a mug to her lips, and regarded her unconscious companion. Truth was, she hadn't thought about it much, where the other Olivia Dunham went when she had assumed her life. There were moments, late at night when she'd be sorting through her possessions, trying to unravel the other her. She once came across and old book of drawings, filled with dark disturbing images and angry faces. She didn't fully understand then, but she had known that the darkness in those pages was connected to the flask she'd found in the nightstand.
And to think, that what they were doing was switching places, but while she had been prepared for it, her alternate had not. She was thrust into a new universe, and forced to assimilate to a life that was not her own. Olivia had been assaulted by foreign memories, Liv's memories. How much did Olivia remember of her memories? And how come she hadn't used them against her all those times Liv had sought to rile her up? Liv would have in a heartbeat.
Olivia began to stir on the couch. Liv continued to observe her over the rim of her mug, completely unmoving. Olivia rolled onto her stomach. The towel slipped down to her waist as she stretched; the squeaking of old couch springs echoing in the otherwise silent room. Olivia's eyes were clouded when they met Liv's, unreadable.
"Are you alright?" Liv's voice was quieter than she had intended, but it didn't waver. The need to fidget was almost overwhelming, and Liv had to take a deep gulp of coffee to avoid doing so. She didn't want to give anything away. The balance of power between them was shifting, muddled. Liv wasn't sure what Olivia was going to do about what had transpired between them. She was half certain that Olivia would avoid the subject all together, but the other half of her suspected that she would want to rationally discuss why it was a mistake and shouldn't happen again.
Liv honestly wasn't sure which she preferred. Either way Liv knew two things, Olivia had enjoyed it, and so had she. Olivia sat up and wrapped herself back up in the towel,
"I've been better, but I'm glad it worked. What about the shape shifter?" Liv wondered whether Olivia was referring to shoving her tongue down her throat or just in general.
"He's gone, and we've once again been given orders to stay put." Olivia was on her feet before the end of the sentence. Liv watched as Olivia pulled on a shirt and fought with the buttons,
"What are you doing? Don't tell me you're planning on looking for the shape shifter. You're in no condition."
Olivia didn't look up. Her fingers were fumbling with the buttons, shaking too hard to accomplish much,
"I'm fine," she gave up with the buttons and ran her fingers through her hair. Liv couldn't help but take in the sight. Blond locks no longer clung to her skin; now half dry they fell in a soft wave around her face. Olivia's chest was heaving slightly with every breath, her coveted control slipping through her grasp. It was funny. Liv had tried to elicit this response from her many times; she had made it her prerogative to see how tightly coiled her alternate was, and to free her from it. And yet, now she had, and it wasn't nearly as satisfying as she had imagined. With a sigh Liv approached, slowly as if not to spook her.
Olivia still didn't look up; Liv wasn't sure if she was avoiding her gaze or unaware of her presence, lost in the turmoil of her thoughts. Liv bit down into her lip as she concentrated on the buttons in front of her. She loathed button down shirts. They were so binding, so easily wrinkled. She could feel the heat radiating from beneath her fingertips. She was half done when her fingers brushed Olivia's stomach. Olivia's abs twitched under her touch. Liv paused, looking up but still finding Olivia's focus fixed elsewhere, staring at nothing with astonishing intensity given their mutual exhaustion. She was about to start on the next button when slender fingers enveloped her own, holding them still. Olivia wasn't looking at her, but her grasp was strong and unyielding.
Liv's fingers were dragged upwards, across Olivia's sternum and up to her right collarbone. Next they traced from her forehead down between her eyes. Liv was so transfixed by the motion that she let out a ragged gasp when she realized that Olivia's eyes were now locked onto her own,
"I feel these lines." Liv's hand was now pulled across Olivia's side, a few inches above the hipbone, "They wake me up in the middle of the night; they sear my skin, but leave no scars in the morning." Olivia's grasp on her hand tightened, and Liv winced despite herself, "I remember every dotted line. It might as well be inked into my skin like the tattoo on my neck."
Liv knew what she was talking about. She didn't know at the time that they had planned on killing her; she had -perhaps naively -assumed they would keep her alive. Only after she returned, did she learn that they had intended to cut her up, harvesting the pieces they wanted, and sending the rest back. It had been the first time she had given pause to consider the validity of blindly following her side. When she had been assuming her role, she had learned of a great number of misdeeds caused by her universe in the name of justice and saving their world. She had learned too late that she needed to be more cautious before following orders. Her side didn't always take the time to consider their collateral damage. Even now when they were working with the other side, she wasn't sure of the Secretary's intentions. And if she herself couldn't be certain of the agenda of her universe, how could Olivia trust in it, in her?
Liv grabbed at their joined hands with her free one, gently cradling Olivia's hand until it finally unclenched,
"I'm sorry." Olivia's eyes darted from their hands up to Liv's face, scanning her eyes for something. Whatever it was, Liv found that she was determined to give it to her, "I am so sorry." She took a deep breath; she wasn't good at these kinds of things. The last apology she had given had consisted of punching Charlie in the shoulder and stealing a bite of his sandwich, "I stole your life, and those in my universe had intended on not giving it back. But, I didn't know." Olivia rolled her eyes and tore herself away from Liv's hold. She was waving her hands, grasping at words that seemed just out of reach. Olivia retreated to the couch and sat down.
Liv made her way back over and knelt at the foot of the couch, "I didn't know, I didn't ask. But I would now. I see..." Liv paused as she felt Olivia's hands creeping up her thighs, the heat easily penetrating her thin pajama pants, "I see..." She couldn't finish; the words felt like ash in her mouth. Olivia's hands finished their journey up her thighs, snaking around her waist and pulling her off the ground and onto the couch.
They sat sideways- kneels grazing- Olivia in her half buttoned shirt and underwear, Liv in Walter's pajamas. Neither spoke a word. There were none to share. The physical and emotional exhaustion was too much. They silently held each other's gaze, until sleep overtook them.
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