Part 7: Anniversary
Olivia tried to ignore the fussing baby as Rachel pinned her hair into place. Etta was four months old and still healthy and perfect. She had big blue eyes like her dad and a little tuft of blonde, almost white hair. She was a smiley, cheerful baby who almost always slept through the night. She was a chatterbox, always calling out for attention. Mostly it was cooing and gargling, but right now she was being a little more demanding.
The girls were in a large dressing room on the top floor of the wedding venue. The room was ornately decorated with large floral wallpaper, over stuffed chairs, gold mirrors. It could hold more than ten women all getting dressed and doing their hair. Right now, it was just Olivia, Rachel, Ella, and of course, Etta.
The venue was usually used for much larger weddings. For the Dunham-Bishop nuptials, they were not using the main room. They had reserved a small private section of the garden for both the wedding and the reception. Only a handful of people were coming, just their family and less than a dozen friends. She didn't need anything else.
Rachel seemed to know what Olivia was thinking. "Hold still," said Rachel.
"Let me just pick her up. She'll quiet down," Olivia said.
"She'll quiet down if you just let her quiet down. You just fed her. She's fine."
"I'll do it," said Ella and slid out of her chair. She wore a lavender dress and had a flower pinned in her hair.
"Just rock her carrier and give her a toy out of the diaper bag," instructed Rachel.
"Yes, Mom," said Ella.
Olivia sighed. She was not used to being told what to do by her little sister.
"I'm almost finished," said Rachel.
Olivia squirmed, but didn't say anything else. She watched her sister working in the reflection of the mirror. Olivia could braid and that was as far as her skill with a hairbrush went. Rachel learned how to do all sorts of hairstyles and makeup. When they were kids, Rachel was always trying to give Olivia makeovers. Olivia always said no, but for her wedding day she acquiesced.
"Done," said Rachel after a few more minutes.
"It looks amazing," said Olivia as she turned her head back and forth to see the full effect.
"It's so pretty, Aunt Liv," said Ella from her position on the floor beside Etta.
There was a knock. Rachel moved towards it, but stopped before opening the door. "Who is it?" asked Rachel.
Olivia used the distraction to scoop up Etta from her carrier. She'd stopped fussing, but Olivia couldn't resist holding her daughter.
"It's Nina, not Peter," called the voice.
"Oh good, come in," said Rachel.
Nina pushed open the door. "You girls ready?"
"Almost," said Olivia. Her hair and makeup might be all done up, but she was still wearing a button-down plaid shirt and jeans.
Nina swooped into the room. She wore an elegant dress in a dark blue rather than her usual black. "This is like high school all over again. You're going to miss the bus," she teased.
"I would like to point out that it was in fact Rachel that was always late," said Olivia.
"That might be true—and I'm not saying it is—but right now you're the one who is not ready," Rachel said.
It was true. Rachel's hair and makeup was done and she wore a knee-length, lavender dress. The color matched Ella's dress.
"Give me the baby and you get dressed," ordered Nina, who was also having a hard time putting Etta down.
Olivia passed her daughter over to Nina. She ducked behind a screen that matched the wallpaper. Rachel handed her the dress. She slipped it on and stepped from behind the screen.
The others in the room were silent. Rachel broke the quiet first after the pause.
"You look incredible, Liv. Just incredible. I'm so happy for you." She moved forward and gave Olivia a hug.
Nina stepped forward and kissed Olivia on the cheek. "You deserve this."
"Thank you. Both of you."
Only then did Olivia turn and look at herself in one of the mirrors. She smiled at the reflection, then made a face to stop her herself. Most of her blonde hair was pulled back in a bun with the rest of it tumbling over one shoulder. The makeup was delicate and focused on her eyes. The dress was simple. It wasn't a traditional wedding dress, just an ivory cocktail dress with thin straps and a lavender sash.
Ella got up. She stood next to Olivia and took her hand.
"What do you think, baby girl?" Olivia asked.
"I'm not the baby girl anyone. Etta is," said Ella.
"I guess you're right. What do you think, Miss Ella?"
"You look divine."
Olivia laughed. "Thank you. You ready to be the flower girl?"
Ella looked up excitedly. "Oh yes."
They all knew that Ella had talked of nothing else for the past month.
"Are you ready to get married?" asked Rachel.
Olivia turned away from the mirror. She nodded.
Nina fastened Etta back into her carrier. Ella grabbed the diaper bag, eager to help. Rachel linked arms with her sister. They make their way downstairs, passing through the waiting area for the restaurant. A few of the patrons watched. Everyone loves a wedding.
Walter was waiting for them on the patio.
"I never understand what take women so long. I should run experiments the phenomena," said Walter.
"It takes as long as it takes," said Nina. "We're ready now."
"I can see that," he said.
The ladies got reorganized. Ella passed the diaper bag to Nina. Still holding Etta in her carrier, she let one of ushers lead her down the aisle.
Nina was the queue. The music started playing. Rachel went first. Ella went next, holding her bouquet proudly. The music changed. Olivia took a deep breath. Walter held out an arm.
"You look wonderful, dear," he said. "Just as beautiful as my Elizabeth."
Olivia squeezed his arm. "Thank you, Walter."
They didn't need to say much else. Together, they stepped off the flagstone patio and walked down the aisle. A dozen or so chairs were set out in lines. At the end of aisle was an arch covered in rose vines. The sky was blue and the sun was just barely beginning to set, giving the scene a warm, golden glow.
Peter waited beneath the arch. He wore a grey suit. His tie was matching in lavender. Rachel was to the left after the space saved for Olivia.
His back was to her, but at the last minute Peter turned. He smiled and his eyes sparkled on the verge of tears.
"You look beautiful," he quietly said.
She smiled too and even blushed a little.
Walter kissed her on the cheek and shook hands with Peter. He then took his seat and the officiator began to speak. He welcomed the guests, the family and friends and began talking about the commitment of marriage.
Olivia kept her eyes on Peter. She watched him and let her mind wander. She had heard the speech before.
It was exciting, but the wedding was nearly as momentous as everyone thought it would. Not for Olivia anyway. She knew nothing was going to change between Peter and herself. She was doing it for Etta, so her daughter would never have to answer questions about her parents. She doing it for Peter, so he could have concrete evidence of the stable family he had been missing since he was a boy. After she had gained her memories of the other timeline and Peter had been reassured by September, he had held onto her so tightly that she had known they would be together. They might as well have said 'I do' in the cold street.
Planning the wedding had been something to do while she was on maternity leave. It wasn't a-best-day-of-her-life kind of moment. She already had what she wanted. Peter, Etta, it was all she needed. In all the timelines, in all the universes, it was all she needed.
She suddenly found herself thinking of her double on the other side. Somewhere out there, so close and so very, very far away. She found herself hoping the red hair who shared her face had found happiness too. Did she end up with Lincoln? Would she have children? Would their lives continuing to be radically different? Or would they fall into similar patterns? Wife, mother, work. Olivia could only wonder. She would never know.
Olivia focused back on what was being said. They were getting to the part where she had to participate.
"In sickness and in health," intoned the officiator.
Olivia made eye contact with Peter. She rolled her eyes ever so slightly. They had already been through a whole hell of lot more than sickness and health. He winked back. They had been laughing about it the day before. Peter wanted to have the words changed, but since their work—and by extension what they'd been through—was highly classified it wouldn't have been allowed.
"I do," Peter said.
"Do you Olivia Dunham take Peter Bishop to be you lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" the officiator asked Olivia.
"I do," she said.
"The rings," he said.
Eddie waddled forward. He was dressed in a smart and very little tuxedo and clutching a pillow with the rings. The crowd collectively awed. He was supposed to give the rings to the officiator and return to his seat beside his father. Instead, he panicked. He held the pillow up to Olivia. As soon as she took it from him, he went straight for Rachel. He buried his face against her legs. The audience laughed.
Olivia handed the pillow to the officiator. No one tried to convince Eddie to return to his seat.
"All are welcome here," said the officiator who a broad gesture. The audience laughed again. He cleared his throat and continued. "Do you have a ring for the bride?"
Peter removed one of the rings from the pillow and took Olivia's hand. He just held it for a moment, a beat. No one else would have noticed. It was a pause, a deep breath, the split second before everything changed.
"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love for you. Let it be a reminder that I am always by your side and that I will always be a faithful partner to you," he said and slipped a simple platinum band onto her ring finger. They had picked the words carefully. He had like the use of partner. That's what they had been when they first met and that's what they would be for years and years to come.
The officiator spoke again, but directed towards Olivia. "Is there a ring for the groom?"
She reached for Peter's hand and slid the matching ring onto his finger. "I give you this ring as a symbol of my love for you. Let it be a reminder that I am always by your side and that I will always be a faithful partner to you," she said. Her voice was clear.
The officiator spoke for the last time, "In as much as Olivia and Peter have consented together in wedlock and have witnessed the same before this company and pledged their vows to each other, by the authority vested in me by the State of Massachusetts, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss."
They kissed. It was soft and familiar. The kind of kiss she expected to get for the rest of her life. Though the crowd was small, they still cheered.
The newly weds laughed. They were loved by those that surrounded them. Peter held out his hand again. She took it and together they walked back down the aisle.
While the ceremony was clear in Olivia's mind, the rest of the evening was a blur, a joyous blur. She was glad Astrid's father, who was an amateur photographer, was floating around with his camera. She knew there was too much to take it. They shared a meal with their family and friends. They danced.
The sun had really set and Olivia sat off to the side at an empty table with a sleeping baby in her arms. The patio was lit by fairy lights and smiling faces. Peter danced with Ella. He knew she was watching him.
The song ended and after giving Ella one more twirl, he came over. She smiled up at him.
"Wife?" he said.
"Yes, husband?" The word felt good on her tongue.
"I think our carriage will be here soon."
They weren't taking a real honeymoon, not with a four-month old baby. However, the honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons was reserved for them for one night. Rachel, Greg and the kids were staying at the house with Etta. Peter and Olivia were under strict orders not to come home or worry for twenty-four hours. There was a limo coming to take them to the hotel.
"I guess we should find Rachel and say goodbye," said Olivia, not looking forward to handing her child off the first time over night.
Peter was already scanning the group of people. Rachel caught his eye and came directly to them.
"The car should be here in ten minutes," she said.
"We know," said Olivia. "We don't want to make a scene. We'll just slip out, but we're not going to take the little one with us."
Rachel gingerly took Etta out of her sister's arms. "Don't worry about anything."
"I won't, but—" said Olivia.
"Nope, I've got it."
"I know, but—"
"No buts."
"Please, remember—"
"I remember."
"You didn't let me—"
"It doesn't matter."
"Let me finish what I—"
"Nope."
Olivia looked like she wanted to deck her sister. Peter laughed. "Alright, I think Rachel is giving us a hint."
"He's a smart man, you've got there," said Rachel.
"Husband," Olivia corrected.
"Smart husband," Rachel said with a smirk.
Nina appeared. "The limousine is here."
"Okay, we're going," said Olivia. She leaned over a place a gentle kiss on the top of Etta head. "Good night. We'll see you tomorrow. Love you."
Peter did the same.
"Now, go you two. Don't worry about anything," said Rachel.
"Okay, okay. Thanks for everything, Rach. The hair and planning most of this. It was perfect," said Olivia, looking seriously at her sister.
"You are welcome. I think Nina said it well. You deserve this."
Olivia smiled. Peter said good night too. "You'll make sure Walter makes it home?" he asked the little group.
"Yes, a car has already been arranged," said Nina. She waved her hands in the direction of the exit. Peter and Olivia started moving.
"I know that," said Peter over his shoulder. "That doesn't mean he'll actually make it back to his lab."
"I'll make sure," said Nina again.
"And tell him we said goodbye," said Olivia.
"It's under control," said Rachel.
They were at the front now, where a sleek, black limo was waiting. They said good night to their daughter one last time and got into the car.
"Are you doing okay?" asked Peter after they had been driving for a while.
"Yes," she said simply. She scooted closer and rested a hand on his leg.
"She's absolutely fine. Rachel will take good care of her."
"I know. I'm not worried. I just don't like being away from her."
"I'm just wondering if she misses us."
Olivia didn't answer. She doubted a four-month old was able to wonder where her parents had gone or even really notice as long as someone fed and changed her. Peter was always more sentimental than she was. It didn't do any good to point it out. It was Olivia who missed Etta, not the other way around.
"She'll be fine. We'll be home tomorrow and wishing we had a babysitter."
He laughed and kissed her. "You're right, but I don't want to wish away tonight."
Olivia raised an eyebrow and looked at him with what old movies would call bedroom eyes. "We're still not going to get much sleep."
"No, we are not." He kissed her again.
The limo pulled into the covered driveway of the hotel. A doorman opened the door for them and showed them to the front desk.
"How may if help you tonight, sir?" asked the woman behind the desk. She wore a crisp uniform.
"My wife and I—" he paused to cast of a wide smile in Olivia's direction. She smiled back. "We're checking in. The honeymoon suite."
"Of course, Mr. Bishop. Everything is ready for you. Clark will show you up with your bags." She indicated a bellhop who had appeared. "And congratulations."
"Thank you," said Peter and Olivia at the same time.
She slipped under his arm as they walked towards the elevator. His gripped tighten for a moment and then relaxed as if they fit together. And they did. There lives were crazy and messed up most of the time, but they had somehow managed to find each other. It felt right.
They rode the elevator all the way to the top. The bellhop showed them into the room. It was enormous and impeccably furnished. The turn down service had already come and gone. Olivia eyed the bucked of champagne chilling one of surfaces. Everything was waiting just for them. The bellhop gave them a short tour and disappeared.
Olivia stood by the large, picture windows, staring out over the city and the harbor. She kicked off her heels and started to take down her hair one pin at a time. Peter wrapped his arms around her from behind.
"This room is ridiculous. It's bigger than my old apartment. It's a great view, though," she said.
"I have a great view, too," he said and his voice vibrated against her back.
"Champagne," she said after a pause.
He didn't say anything, just hooked a finger underneath the thin strap of her dress and pulled it down her shoulder. He kissed the spot where it had been.
She heard the ice rattling in the bucket and the satisfying pop of the cork. He returned to the window and handed her one of the crystal glasses brimming with the bubbly alcohol. They clinked the glasses together.
She took a huge gulp. She hadn't had any thing to drink at the wedding because she was breast-feeding. She was officially off duty now and the alcohol would be out of her system by the time she saw Etta again. So, she allowed herself to enjoy it.
"Happy?" asked Peter.
She smiled. "I don't know why everyone keeps asking me that. Of course, I'm happy. How could I not be? My daughter is sleeping soundly with my sister and I just married the love of my life, even though the ceremony wasn't really necessary because I know we'll always be there for each other."
"That's right. I'm never going to lose you again."
Stretching up, she kissed him on the cheek with her hand lingering against his face. She then moved away from him, pretending to explore the room and greedily slipping from her champagne until she stopped beside the king-sized bed. As she set her glass down on the nightstand, Peter came up behind her again.
He slowly unzipped her dress and lowered over her hips. She stepped out of it. He gathered it up and laid it over the back of an armchair in a little sitting area beside another picture window.
She stood in front of him in nothing, but the fine, lacy lingerie she'd purchased for exactly this moment. She still felt fuller than she had before she pregnancy, but she was working hard to get back into the field ready shape. She guessed it showed by the look on Peter's face when he turned back around.
Olivia grabbed his tie and pulled him back to her. She tucked her hand beneath the shoulders of his jacket and slipped it away from his body. He did not put up a fight as she then began to work on the knot of his tie with slow, deliberate moments. Then, she moved onto the buttons of his shirt.
He tried to kiss her a few time, but she always remained just outside his reach. He moaned low, more like a growl.
The shirt felt to the floor. She lifted his undershirt over his head. The game is too much for both of them. As soon as the t-shirt passes over his head, they collide.
He kissed her hard and deep. She fumbled for his belt buckle as they move closer to the bed. They tumbled onto the mattress. He was on top. His hips were finally freed from his pants. He buried his face in her neck. His hands were entwined in her long, blonde hair. He untangled his fingers just long enough to get his hands underneath her arched back to undo her bra.
His lips moved down her collarbone, across her chest and down her stomach. She moaned now, but he stayed around her midsection, fascinated by the space where their child came from.
Now, he was playing games, teasing her with the closeness that wasn't close enough. And she let him. This was what he was after. That moment where she just let go. She melted under the weight of his body. He lifted his head and their eyes locked.
She wriggled free just long enough to scoot more solidly onto the bed. He followed her after stepping out of his dress pants, boxers and yanking off his socks.
Hands slid up her calves and along her thighs. He took hold of her underwear and tugged them down. She was not passive, but she allowed him to direction the motions. Her own hands found his strong shoulders and moved smoothly down his back. She bit his muscular forearm to get his attention. He turned, pressing his nose against her. She kissed him. He kissed back and pushed inside her. They moved together.
Nothing has changed or at least she tried to tell herself that. She still knew every inch of Peter's body. He still knew exactly what to do to make the fire in her belly burn fiercely.
Her thoughts floated away from her. She was distracted, but it was freeing. She was not weighed down; she saw clearly.
There was a feeling of triumph. She'd done it. She had the happy ending she had scarcely dared to believe in. She had been a shield for so many people. She had made sure they got what they wanted, Rachel in particular. She didn't blame them, but she had taken the bullets to protect those she cared about. Figuratively, of course, but she would have actually done it.
She had managed to pull together a happiness that was deeper than anything she could have dreamed of because she had earned it. All the grief, all the memories, a part of her wished it hadn't happened, but she wouldn't change it. Those horrible things had brought her here. She wouldn't go back to before as she had almost begged after John Scott had died. If there hadn't been an after she wouldn't have Peter. She wouldn't have Etta.
Articulating this was well beyond her. She could only hold to Peter. And she did. Fingers digging into his back as their pace reach its climax. For a few blissful moments, Olivia thought of nothing. She was pure sensation.
It was quiet except for their heavy breathing and little murmurs of pleasure.
He rolled off her. He lay on his back with his arms spread across the bed. She tucked against his chest and put her head into the space beneath his chin.
"Are you happy?" Olivia asked. They had been distracted before she could ask him.
"Yes," he said as if the single word was all he could manage.
She didn't push him to be more eloquent. She already knew what he was thinking. He wasn't thinking of the physical pleasure. He was thinking that he had the one thing he had always wanted. He had a home.
"We're lucky," he said. "It took a lot to get here, but it was worth it in the end."
She sighed in a content way. "I was thinking the same thing."
"Today was perfect. You looked amazing. I couldn't believe it."
"What is that supposed to mean, Mr. Bishop?"
"I mean, Mrs. Bishop, that I didn't know you could get any better. I've seen you dressed up before, but this was different. You had on your wedding dress."
She didn't answer right way. "I do feel different. I thought it was going to be like a birthday. You turn a year older, but you don't really feel any different."
He reached for her left hand, which was resting on his bare chest. He kissed the ring.
"It's doesn't change the way I feel, but it makes it official now. You're stuck with me," he said.
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"There is no other person I would rather be stuck with. In any universe. In any timeline."
"But most importantly here and now," he said and if it was possible pulled her a little closer.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! I officially have two more parts planned out. Stay tuned! They may not come as regularly as these other parts. I'd appreciate if you bare with me.
