Okay, so I officially suck. There's no reason for this fanfic being dragged out so long, and I really am sorry about how long I've left it.

Firstly, I know the fanfic didn't work for a long time when I uploaded chapter three. I still have no idea why it kept disappearing, but hopefully it won't happen with this chapter.

Secondly, I wrote this, and chapter five as one chapter but it turned into six pages on word, so I thought I'd give your eyes a break and split it into these two final chapters. Chapter five will be uploaded on Tuesday, after I've refined it a bit.

Enjoy :)

The fourth time is a long time after the third.

Time passes. Olivia avoids Peter Bishop where she can, their recent trip to Germany having proven how weak she truly can be. Without so much as a drink in her system she had willingly gone to his hotel room, crawled into bed beside him and when he had kissed her, she had melted against him. Professions of love had escaped his lips while they'd been tangled together, and this time she couldn't pretend to have misheard him. Not again, and so she'd mumbled a moronic, 'I know' and let his roving hands distract her from everything else. On the plane journey on the way back, Olivia acknowledges that the whole incident was very much her fault, and they both firmly agree that nothing more can happen between them.

Nothing more, that is until the next time she has a bad day about two weeks after they touch down on American soil. Somehow she finds herself inside a bar that she has always known Peter to frequent. And sure enough, she's only on her second drink when the man himself walks through the door. It's clear he spots her immediately, although he tries his best to pretend that he doesn't. She bides her time however, and sure enough three shots later he drops into the booth beside her, a whiskey in either hand.

She pretends to be drunker than she is, giggling in random intervals and touching his arm more than she usually would, until she finally raises the courage to haul him out to a nice dark alleyway. After the way she has treated him, she knows deep in her heart that intoxication is her only real excuse for dragging them both into this again.

She makes her intentions clear, stepping back against the wall and drawing him close. He proves more resilient than usual however, and it isn't until her hands rise up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck that he ducks his head and presses her hard against the alley wall, his lips moving against hers with a furious haste.

There's nothing even slightly gentle about him this time. His teeth nick her tongue, and as he grinds hard against her, it becomes all too clear that he's willing to screw her here and now against this wall if she'll permit it. However despite all pretences, she's not quite far gone enough to allow that to happen, so when his right hand grazes the fly of her black pants, she bats it away gently and turns her head to the side, so her lips just brush against his ear as she mumbles

"Let's go somewhere else." However the answer she receives is less than enthusiastic

"Like where? Walter's at my place, Rachel's at yours and I seriously doubt you want either of them to know what's going on here."

"I used to get a hotel room, with…" perhaps she's had more to drink than she realises, because the words escape her before she realises just who she is talking to, and although she cuts herself off before she names her dead lover, it's clear the damage is more than done. At once, he steps backwards and looks up at the sky, as if searching for an answer written in the stars. An awkward, silent moment passes before he speaks again, in a softer tone, but with a side of desperation

"Tell me you love me." The look she gives him can only be described as pure, unadulterated panic. However she hates the void of silence that's slowly forming, so she forces herself to speak, to say anything.

"You're drunk, Peter" she sidesteps, staring at his shoes and feeling her face redden

"But you're not" he challenges, "I told myself I wasn't going to say anything, Liv, but it's not fair. You know exactly how I feel and I need to know where I stand, so if you love me, please just tell me." Even now, alone and in the dark she can't bring herself to say the words he desperately wants to hear. She's well aware that her silence is damning, but after John she can't even consider saying that to another man. Truth be told, she can't even bring herself to consider it. He gives her just under ten seconds, but it feels like a lifetime before he talks again

"Okay, let's try something easier. Do you even like me?"

"Of course I like you" she begins, but he cuts her off

"I don't mean like a friend. I mean like someone you could someday see yourself loving. Because if you don't even like me, we have a serious problem." She feels like slapping him, like screaming, like demanding to know if he seriously thinks she just sleeps with all her male friends. But still, the fear overwhelms everything else, and so she still says nothing. Finally, Peter makes a frustrated noise and takes another step away from her

"I guess that's it then." He barely glances at her as he pulls out his cell phone, flicks through his contacts and puts it to his ear

"What are you doing?" she asks in a low tone, almost afraid to speak to him

"Calling you a cab" he replies in an equally dead tone.

"What about you?"

"I'll walk. I need to clear my head."

He waits with her in silence until the taxi arrives, offers to pay her fare and finally takes off into the darkness. She almost stops him, but selfishly, her self preservation still means more to her than breaking his heart temporarily. He'll get over her- of that she is sure. Eventually. He's going to have to.

In the weeks following the alleyway, things are bad between them, but slowly and inevitably, they get better. Peter visits Rachel at the apartment less, claiming that seeing Olivia there reminds him too much of work. They keep their professional and private lives as separate as possible, and although she misses his gentle flirting, she recognises it's for the best.

All in all, Olivia's life is surprisingly good. Until that is, she misses a period. The full blown terror begins early, and without a word to anyone she takes herself straight out to the pharmacy, and buys a test, and then another - because one can never be too careful. She takes one in the bathroom of the mall, and another when she returns to her apartment. When both are negative, she allows herself to breathe again and resolves not to mention in to Peter, for fear of slicing open old wounds.

But then the very next day she arrives home from work to Rachel, standing arms crossed, the empty pregnancy test box sitting on the kitchen table. Rachel had found it in the trash apparently, in a chain of events that sounded altogether too much like a Friends episode for Olivia's liking, but Rachel is too worked up about the little blue box sitting between them to explain further. As soon as Olivia assures her sister of the negative result, the real inquisition begins. Who is this potential father? How does Olivia know him? Has Rachel met him? Better yet, could it be Charlie?

Knowing she'll get no peace 'til answers are given, Olivia frankly reminds Rachel of Charlie's married status before inventing a man, a colleague, from another department of the FBI. She considers using Lucas, but quickly disregards the idea, knowing things could get complicated if Rachel still had his cell number. It is now, during this tidal wave of questions that Peter makes his entrance, escorted by a chattering Ella. He takes one look at the little blue box on the table and blanches considerably.

Rachel notes the look on his face with a mild smirk.

"Don't worry. It's 'Liv's, not mine." When his look of horror only intensifies, Olivia has to wonder how he ever made it as a conman when he's just so damn transparent. Of course, Rachel picks up on the look immediately and before long, she puts two and two together, and gets four.

Amidst all the accusations, Peter denies any sort of affair, but sick of all of the lying, Olivia crumbles faster than any perp and admits to the two night stand. Ella is sent to her bedroom and the unavoidable screaming begins. The guilty pair silently accept the barrage of insults that come their way, but Olivia can barely look at Peter, seeing the plain fury in his eyes, all directed towards her. Perhaps a quarter of an hour later, Peter is sent packing by an irate Rachel, who shrieks after him that she never wants to see him again. Next Rachel insists that she and Ella are leaving for good in the morning. Olivia knows that eventually, be it weeks, months or even years, her sister will forgive her, but that knowledge doesn't help to ease the burning shame in any way. And nor should it.

At about midnight, Rachel enters Olivia's bedroom, a surprisingly calm aura about her, betrayed only by the stiffness with which she grips her coffee mug

"When?" she asks in the hard voice she uses when she's trying so very hard to be unemotional

"Once about six months ago, and than again when we were in Germany." She leaves out the alleyway, and indeed the fact that this thing between she and Peter had been building for far longer than Rachel's relationship with him.

"Who started it?"

"He kissed me first" Olivia says immediately, before her loyalty to Peter forces her to be more honest, "But it was my fault. They both were. The first time, I got him drunk and the second I practically dragged him into bed with me."

"Why?" Rachel's mouth is a dangerously thin line, and yet Olivia still can't find an answer

"I don't know"

"Olivia, you had an affair with my boyfriend. The least you could do is tell me why you did it." Because I love him? Because part of me hates you? Neither are entirely true, and neither, she expects are what Rachel wants to hear.

"Because it's been so long since John and I just needed to feel loved" she finally finds an obvious answer, but from the look on Rachel's face it's entirely the wrong thing to say

"He loves you?"

"I think so."

"Do you love him?" Rachel fires back, and finally Olivia relents a little.

"Maybe."

"Maybe? You screwed my boyfriend because you might love him?" Rachel's voice is shrill again, and before long the rants began again, and continue well into the early hours of the morning.

Peter, for his part makes it clear he's not at all happy the morning after. Words like betrayal, pathetic and selfish are thrown about and when Peter finally storms from her office, Olivia can't help but feel like their friendship has at last been irreparably damaged.

Luckily for them both, she's wrong.

For the fourth time occurs a long time after the third. But it is most definitely worth the wait.

I know I don't deserve reviews, but I'd still quite like some =]