Thanks to everyone who's been reading and an even bigger thanks to those who have left feedback and reviews on this story. Things will be heating up in the next few chapters between our favorite duo. Hopefully I can get the next chapter written up with family over during the Thanksgiving holiday. Everyone have a great holiday (if you're in the USA) and a safe trip if you're traveling this week/weekend. Thanks again for all the reviews, you have no idea how great it is to hear such kind words.

Chapter 6:

The day had been long – driving back from New York to Boston. Lincoln had went over the police report involving the accident and had agreed that nothing showed any evidence of Nina Sharp's involvement. Olivia hadn't expected otherwise.

Peter was back at his home, a federal escort outside. He showered and changed, doing a load of laundry and cleaning up the house before Olivia came to pick him up for drinks. She had promised to be over after work. He half-wondered why she didn't bring him to the lab with her but then remembered Walter's recent outbursts and respected her decision. She was trying to be the mediator in all this. He glanced at the clock wondering how soon she'd come by. They hadn't discussed dinner but he still needed groceries.

Peter reached for the phone, dialing her cell number and waiting for it to pick up. "Hi, Peter." Already she knew who it was.

Peter smiled, it meant she either remembered the number or saved it into her phone. "We hadn't talked about dinner," he admitted, "I was thinking of stopping at the store, I could use some groceries."

Olivia nodded, "I spoke with Broyles and you'll have a weekly allowance that should cover food and basic necessities. Tim who is outside your house should be able to cover the first round using the Bureau credit card. By next week you'll have a deposit in your account."

"Thanks." He smiled, "what time are you planning on swinging by for drinks?"

Olivia glanced at Lincoln, "I've got a few things to finish up here and write up my report. Can we plan for 7:30 so I know I won't be late?"

"Sure." Peter nodded. It was nearly five o'clock already. "I'll see you this evening."

Olivia smiled, "yes, you will."

Two and a half hours later, Olivia was walking up the front steps of Peter's home. She told the agent standing outside the door that he could go home and she'd be responsible for Peter this evening.

He didn't ask questions, "if you change your mind," he briefly offered before walking down to the street to his car.

Olivia knocked on the door, hearing movement inside and smiled as he opened the door. "Hey." She breathed glancing him over. He looked good. He definitely was wearing a new shirt and a nice pair of jeans.

"Come on in." He offered. "I just need to get my shoes on and I'll be ready." Peter turned around to grab his shoes.

She laughed softly, "Peter, you forgot the tag," she laughed reaching behind his neck and snapping the tag off.

"Oh thanks." Peter breathed feeling her fingers brush against his skin. He turned around, his smile meeting her eyes. "Hate to think I almost wore it out with the tag on."

Olivia nodded slowly, "can't have that." She whispered. She could feel the sexual tension between them. Maybe it was just her radiating sexual tension since he'd been with another version of her – or maybe it was her and she had no memory of it since it never happened. She pushed those thoughts aside. They were going out for drinks, together.

Peter sat down in the foyer, slipping his shoes on before grabbing his coat and keys. "There's a place not too far from here," he admitted, "I thought we could go there, walk."

Olivia nodded, "sure. Sounds good." The smile grew even wider on her face, "I'd rather us walk, especially if you get too drunk. I'd hate to think I may have to wash out the inside of my car in the morning."

Peter's smile grew as he led her outside. "You think I can't handle my liquor?"

Olivia laughed, "I think it sounds like a challenge." She nudged him as they walked alongside of one another heading down the street. She slipped her hands into her coat pockets. It was cool outside but not freezing.

Peter laughed, "I bet you've got a two drink limit."

"Says who!" Olivia objected.

Peter nudged her right back, "says the fact you'll be taking a cab home if you have more than that. Or you'll have to crash in my spare bedroom."

Olivia smiled. "I think I technically have to stay with you tonight. I mean in your spare bedroom. I sent the other agent home so I'm your babysitter."

Peter raised a curious eye, wondering why she did that but didn't ask. "I always had this fantasy about my babysitter," he joked feeling her playfully punch his arm. "Owww."

"Wimp," she muttered with a laugh. "How much longer?" They'd only walked a few blocks but she hoped it wasn't too far.

"Who's the wimp now?" Peter grinned, "it's just around the corner," he pointed to the right. "Next block, one street over."

Heading into the bar, Olivia grabbed a booth and Peter sat down across from her. They both ordered a drink as soon as the waitress came. Olivia also ordered fries, having missed dinner.

"That's all you're ordering?" Peter asked. "You didn't eat, did you?" He hadn't thought she'd grabbed anything to eat but maybe he was wrong.

"We had a big lunch." Olivia shrugged.

"That was almost eight hours ago." Peter countered, "you should eat more than fries."

"I'm having something to wash it down," she smiled. "Relax, I'll be fine. With work it's rare I eat more than two meals anyhow."

"Yes but you've had one meal today." He couldn't help but count. Peter gestured the waitress back over, ordering some wings and tortilla chips as well. "You can share some of mine," he offered. "I'm hungry." He wasn't entirely starving, he had eaten a quick bite at home after shopping but he wasn't going to make Olivia uncomfortable either.

Olivia nodded, "okay." She smiled weakly, sipping her drink. "So tell me something about yourself."

Peter laughed, "I could ask you the same." He countered.

Olivia shook her head no. "I asked first. Tell me something you've never told anyone."

Peter nodded slowly thinking it over. "When I was in high school, after Walter had been sent away to St. Claire's, I had wished that he had been the one to die in that fire. I know it was a terrible thing to think but I was so angry with him for leaving my mother and me." Peter glanced down at the wooden table, his fingers moving over the crevices. "Have you ever felt that way?"

"I killed my step-father," Olivia admitted, staring at Peter. She watched as his eyes moved from the table up to meet her stare. "He was – hurting my mother. I had enough of it. He'd been drinking and just - awful." She let out a breath, "so after he got in the car to leave I went to check on Rachel, my sister. She was crying hysterically. I heard the car come back and so I went for the gun. I knew where it was hidden. I shot him once, then again. I don't regret it. Maybe I'm supposed to feel bad about what I did. I don't feel bad. He would hit my mother, beat the hell out of her when he'd drink. Some people don't deserve to live. I knew that day that my job was to protect other people. I had to look after those that couldn't help themselves."

"That's a lot for a little girl to come to realize," Peter whispered, staring at her.

"Maybe it was. For me – I never saw another option." Olivia admitted. She reached for her drink, finishing it and gestured the waitress for another. "Maybe we should talk about something a little more upbeat?"

"Couldn't agree more," Peter nodded relieved that their appetizers were brought out. He watched as Olivia ate her fries and she gestured for him to share. He grabbed one with a smile, glad they were getting along. "Thanks." He took one watching her intensely.

"What is it?" She laughed feeling his eyes on her.

"Sorry," he confessed shaking his head and glancing down. He'd been caught staring and was slightly embarrassed since she'd already told him as much a few days ago.

Olivia smiled, "it's okay. I know I look like her."

"It's not just that." How was he supposed to explain that the feelings he had – they were more than just for Olivia Dunham from his timeline. Staring at her, listening to her, joking with her, he felt as though they were one in the same. Was he supposed to ignore temptation because she didn't remember him?

"You love her," Olivia could see it. She smiled, "I'm sure she loves you too."

He wanted to ask her 'what about you?' but couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew the answer. They'd known each other less than a week. Asking her to feel something so intimate was absurd. Besides she was Olivia Dunham and if he knew her best then asking about her feelings would end up pushing her away. "She does," he finally answered with a laugh. "I'm sorry if I'm staring, I just - it's hard not to get caught up sometimes. I know you're two different people though." It was confusing to say the least. Though they were technically the same person, it was the experiences that made them different. Unlike the other universe, it seemed impossible to cross paths with yourself from another timeline – especially one that was different because of Peter Bishop. He wanted to stop thinking and just act – but acting meant kissing her and he wasn't sure how well she'd take it. Instead he finished his second drink.

"You're quiet again," Olivia was incredibly observant. She smiled weakly reaching out, touching his arm. "You'll find your way back to her, I know you will."

He wondered if perhaps he already had – they were both just too stubborn to see it. "Yeah, I hope I do." He admitted.

Olivia smiled letting go as she grabbed another fry. "Want one?" She smiled reaching into the basket and holding it up in the air. Peter opened his mouth, teasing her, not thinking she'd do anything – or if she did toss it at him. She reached across the table, popping it into his mouth. Olivia laughed seeing Peter's expression. "You didn't expect that." She tilted her head slightly. She liked surprising him. Something about it felt foreign. Maybe it had to do with the fact he'd already been in a relationship with another version of herself and she thought there wasn't anything left to surprise him with.

"No," Peter admitted, "I didn't." He smiled finishing the fry. "My turn?" He teased reaching for one. "Open up." He grinned tossing it at her but missing her mouth. It hit her chin and fell to the table.

Olivia laughed, "not even close."

"It was close," Peter objected, "besides you put in my mouth, I was trying to toss it into yours. You cheated."

Olivia shook her head, "I don't see how I cheated." She finished her second drink and the waitress brought her and Peter another one.

Peter lifted a chicken wing from the table, glancing up at Olivia. "Open up." He teased.

"Don't you dare!" Her eyes widened in horror. She knew if he did toss it at her, she'd have a huge mess all over her face and probably her clothes if she wasn't lucky.

Peter grinned, taking a bite before glancing back up at her. "I would if it meant I wouldn't get shot." He laughed, "but seeing as how you're the one carrying the weapon, I'm not taking any chances." He finished the wing before grabbing a second one. "Share with me?" He gestured towards the basket.

Olivia reluctantly grabbed one with a nod, "thanks." She hated to admit she was hungrier than she initially thought.

"So how was the lab? You had to write your report?" He hadn't seen her in a few hours and wanted to know what she was up to. He knew she'd had to finish her report for Broyles but hadn't thought it would have taken as long as it did.

"I did," Olivia nodded slowly, "I also got changed," she admitted – apparently he hadn't noticed the fact she'd showered and dressed for tonight. She tried not to feel disappointed. It was stupid to be upset over it. This was just drinks out, nothing special.

Peter smiled "I thought you looked different," he nodded towards her, "but you're hairs up."

"I couldn't decide," Olivia laughed. "I used to wear it down all the time and then I don't know it seems like the last few weeks it has just been - easier?" She couldn't explain what felt like an irrational decision she was making.

Peter didn't say anything, just merely nodded and smiled.

"What?" Olivia asked him, curiously.

"She always wore her hair up at work," Peter admitted. "It's probably why I'm constantly staring." He grinned. "You really wear your hair down?"

"I did until you came out of nowhere," she emphasized with a laugh. "Okay this is just getting weirder and weirder." She chewed on her bottom lip before grabbing another fry. "You want to hear something really weird?" She knew he would.

Peter nodded, "sure, go ahead."

Olivia laughed, hanging her head slightly, unable to meet his stare. "The other day when I came into the lab and you were there – do you remember how I had trouble looking at you?"

Peter frowned, "yeah I remember you looked flushed. I thought you were sick, coming down with a fever or something."

"I had another dream that you were in," she let the words hang in the air for a moment. "The dreams have gotten a lot more intense every night – except for last night." She confessed. "Sleeping beside you, I don't remember dreaming anything."

"That's, interesting." Peter admitted. He reached across the table, gently touching her arm. "What kind of dreams, Olivia?" He knew from his own they'd been quite intense. He hoped none had been bad.

"Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?" She laughed feeling slightly embarrassed. Her cheeks were flushing slightly and Peter nodded in understanding.

"Oh. Those type of dreams."

Olivia laughed, "yes and no. They weren't always that way. Every night though, they seem to get more intense."

"Do you want to talk about it?" He offered.

Olivia glanced up with a faint smile, "you want me to tell you about them? I don't think I can." She certainly couldn't do it here.

Peter nodded slowly, "that's okay." He didn't want to make her uncomfortable. "I just thought – we used to be intimate in the other timeline and maybe they're memories, not just dreams."

Olivia finished her drink. "Maybe. We can talk about it back at your place," she wasn't closing the door to the topic entirely. She was just out of her comfort-zone discussing it at the bar.

Peter nodded with a smile, "fair enough."

Olivia reached for some tortilla chips, "I'm glad you went ahead and ordered appetizers," she met his stare, "I guess my stomach was hungrier than I realized."

"That happens," he smiled standing up.

Olivia raised an eye. "Where are you going?"

"About to ask a beautiful woman to dance. Is that okay?" Peter quipped.

Olivia nodded slowly. "I guess so." That surprised her. "Just stay within my sight, okay? I'm responsible if you go missing."

Peter laughed, "it's cute how you have no clue I'm talking about you." He held out his hand, "dance with me."

"What?" She nearly choked on her words, reaching for the last of his drink and finishing it off without so much as asking.

"Come on," Peter smiled, "it's a good song. Dance with me." He reached for her hand and Olivia didn't object. She climbed out of the booth and held his hand, following him to the dance floor.

"I should warn you, Peter, I'm a terrible dancer." Olivia didn't want him expecting perfection – she was far from it.

Peter merely shrugged, "you got the tops I got the bottoms." He saw the peculiar expression, "my feet." He emphasized. "Just go with it." He led her onto the dance floor and wrapped his arms around her waist. Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck, immediately drinking in his scent once again. It was intoxicating. Their bodies were pressed together and she felt her heart pounding at their closeness.

"Peter," she breathed into his ear, pulling him closer so only he could hear her. "Why are you glowing?"

He laughed softly. She didn't pull away, merely gave a confused expression, tilting her head slightly – curious about what she was seeing. "I'm from the other side, remember?"

"Okay." That didn't explain it to her. "I don't get it."

Peter twirled her around and back into his arms, "people from the other side emit a glow but only those treated as children with Cortexiphan can see it."

Olivia nodded slowly, it made more sense. "Why didn't I see it earlier?"

Peter smiled, "are you nervous?"

Olivia laughed, "I'm terrified I'm going to break your toes!"

He held her close in his arms, "don't be." Immediately he felt her body relax against him and she shifted slightly as her cheek brushed against his stubble. He suppressed a moan, wanting to reach out and kiss her.

"Okay," she whispered closing her eyes momentarily burying her head in his neck. The scent stirred something within her. Her insides ached and she whimpered softly at the discomfort wishing he could satisfy her urges.

"What is it?" Peter whispered, his voice raspy and thick. He was feeling affected by her closeness as well and pretty soon he knew she'd feel it if they kept dancing this close.

"We should head back," Olivia breathed reluctantly pulling away. She gave him a faint smile before heading for the table, pulling out her credit card and paying for drinks and appetizers.

Peter climbed back into the booth wondering what would happen next. Would they pretend there wasn't a spark when clearly they both felt something? Would they discuss her dreams back at his place or would she push him away? All he could do was hope that she'd open up and maybe find her way back to him.