FRINGE

Spin the Bottle

No copyright inFRiNGEment intended.

Note: round 4… it's only friends' bickering or is it more?

-o-

PART 4

"What?" he said genuinely puzzled by her proposition.

She couldn't help but fidgeting with her coaster. All of a sudden she was feeling embarrassed to be embarrassed. What was it with her tonight? Was it because of the full moon or what? She almost fell into Lucas' embrace and now she was stuck in a noisy bar with Peter. Wouldn't she be better home alone? Well, it was certainly way too late to feel sorry.

All she needed to do now was to speed the process and to get it over with --without losing her shirt on the way, that is. And maybe, maybe, she would feel better if she could talk about it.

"You told me that you'll ask me things, things about me…" she trailed, wishing she had called Peter back to cancel their evening after leaving Lucas at the restaurant.

"Oh, yes," he grinned. "No kidding? You're really up to it? Man, I can't believe you're doing this."

"… you said that if the bottle points to me, you won't kiss me…" she continued, trying to appear unfazed.

"I was only bragging." His grin was infectious as always and she looked down to avoid his steady gaze.

"… and that I will have to answer any question. Am I right?" she asked.

"Right…" he kept gazing, testing her, "… okay, I believe you, let's do it." He rubbed his hands in approval. He made the bottle spin but when it stopped, it pointed in his direction. "So much for learning secrets about you." He made a face and grinned. "Your turn. Ask me anything."

"Why were you in Iraq?" she blurted out without having a second thought.

"Come on," he sat back and grinned. "You know everything already! Oil business, supervising a pipeline construction, that sort of things, nothing fancy really, it was just a job."

"I didn't picture you in this role. You can do that, the just a job part?"

"Why not? That's basic engineering," he said, and she was aware he was only deflecting the question. "You don't need to be MIT savvy to learn how to do it, there's plenty of books available on the subject."

"So you said," she smirked, his bland affirmation reminiscent of their first days together in the lab and the Fringe Division. She spun the bottle. Peter again. Her evening cut short with Lukas sparked off the question. She might as well ask and get it over with.

"Who's Tess?" she said. Now she was the one staring. She felt the rush of adrenaline when she should have enjoyed having a good time with a colleague. It was getting out of hand. She didn't mean to get personal right away, it was so unlike her. She bit her lip, her head slightly tilted. And she thought she was embarrassed before.

"So you know about Tess?" he said matter-of-factly, his face serious. "Why am I not surprised?" He wriggles on the stool, elbows on the table, staring intensely at her with his best poker face on.

"Only doing my job," she states finally letting go of the coaster.

"Then you don't need my answer if you were spying on me. You probably know all there's to know."

"Who's the one who set the rules in the first place?"

He giggles. "That would be me. Okay, that was a fair question. Well, for the sake of argument, let's say she's an old friend." Pause. "Just like your old friend."

"Did you try to contact her again?"

"You will have to give the bottle another spin for this one. My turn." He placed the bottle in the centre of the narrow table and gave it a spin. The neck pointed to him again. His chin dropped to his chest dramatically. He knew when to yield.

"She contacted me. But you must know that I met her. Once. Not my finest decision when it comes to being discreet and not a liability to the Fringe Division, but I did. She was a very dear friend at some point. But she was in a bad relationship. She still is. It's complicated."

She could tell that he did his best to control his body language. His eyes finally left his hands and he sighed. "But that's in the past." His face was unreadable.

"Was it when things got out of hand a couple of years ago?"

"That would be another question," he smiled. "I gave you more than you asked for already, you're cheating."

She grinned back. "Better say that you don't want me to probe into your shady past."

"I'm not sure that you'd like what you find but basically, that would be right."

"Okay, I guess it's my turn again?" He spun the bottle and she took another swig on her beer. This time the bottle pointed to her. "Who's your friend?"

"Lucas? Like I said, we served together. We met in Sudan, we were special ops."

"How special ? Black ops?

"Not exactly, we were sent to assist the government, but I can't elaborate much, that's classified information."

"Selling military expertise to dictators, your past is not any shinier than mine."

She kept a blank face and didn't respond to his provocative stand. "Merely following orders," she said with a shrug. "Lucas is with the Bundestag now and he's only visiting. We lived together for almost two years," she volunteered. "That's two years I'd rather toss under the rug." She stared behind his shoulder and her eyes seemed glassy.

"Your turn, 'Livia. But let me order us something a little more up your alley first. Single malt?"

She nodded with an appreciative smile. "That'll do."

He gestured to the bartender and orders the drinks while she tried to regroup. What was next? She didn't feel like discussing her love life with him, even if it was supposed to be an innocent bar game designed to ease up the tension and help them work together. Yet they kept avoiding the elephant in the room. What he really wanted to know was about Nick… and probably why Walter was so upset after she confronted him. Maybe Walter didn't mention that, she pondered, scanning his profile absently.

"Why don't we get back to safer grounds for tonight and revisit our past some other times?" He turned back to her and smiled.

"That is a grand idea." She sounded more relieved that she should have.

"So… how's Ella?" he said and she got the funny feeling that the ground was giving way under her feet. She hated it when she was the one to lead the conversation into unknown grounds she'd prefer not to venture on.

"She's back to Philly. Rach is fighting for custody."

"Yep, I know. We discussed it over the phone."

Great. Exactly the kind of information she didn't need. She flushed violently.

Their cell phones vibrated at the same time. She checked the caller id. Broyles. She picked up, going all professional at once. "Dunham."

Peter's brow was furrowed and she had to fight the impulse to make the crease on his forehead go away with her hand.

"… Peter Bishop, yes… I'm on my way."

"I'll be right there," she said echoing him.