7.

Olivia and Peter were hauled down a long, dimly-lit hallway. When their captors finally stopped in front of a heavy iron door, Peter looked over at Olivia. She looked scared, and that was a look he never wanted to see on that pretty face. He caught her eye and gave her a smile and a nod. This is gonna work out just fine, doll, he thought, as though trying to will her to hear him.

To his surprise, she smiled back, her nose crinkling up the way it did when the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She may have given up on them, but she was still in there fighting. "I'd hold the door for ya, doll, but I think these guys might object," he joked as one of their silent guards punched in a passcode for the door. Green lights sudden flickered on, and the door creaked open.

"Inside," Gemini ordered.

"Like we have a choice," Olivia groused, glaring at one of her captors as he gave her an ungentlemanly shove. "They don't have charm schools where you're from, do they, Big Boy?" The man merely cocked his head at her curiously, and gave her an extra shove. "Chivalry is dead," she murmured.

The room they entered was empty except for a folding table and a very large flat screen TV. Peter and Olivia looked at each other curiously as the dark screen began to flicker to life. A moment later, a thin, wizened face, almost cartoonish in its paleness, appeared. "Good evening, Miss Dunham," the spectral face said in a raspy, weak voice. He turned to Peter. "And Peter Bishop. The man with the glass heart. You're holding up better than I would have thought."

"I come from hearty Irish stock," Peter sneered, earning him a kidney punch from one of his captors.

"Hey!" Olivia shouted.

"Enough," the face on the screen ordered. "I'll need him later."

"Oh, really? Whatever you need me for, I ain't doin' it," Peter said adamantly.

"You're speaking as though you'll have a say in the matter, young Peter," the face said mildly. "Anyway… Miss Dunham, I have to tell you how much I admire you. You are exquisite. I'm so very glad your path crossed with my dear old friend Walter Bishop's."

"You're William Bell," Olivia breathed.

"In the not-quite-flesh. I'm delighted to meet you. I wish it could have been under better circumstances. I'm afraid you've put me in a difficult spot."

"Gee, I'm so sorry," Olivia said sarcastically. "How'd I do that?"

"You're nosing around in things that don't concern you."

"So, the potion is yours," Peter interjected. "You re-created it from the notes you kept with Walter." At Bell's eerie smile, he continued. "But, why? I doubt you're in love with the idea of love. That's Walter all over, but you? Not so much."

"My dear boy, love has nothing to do with it. It's merely a side effect."

"A side effect?" Olivia barked. "You screwed around with their hearts, you rat. You made them love people they didn't really love. That's disgusting."

Bell chuckled softly. "You can't make a person love another, Olivia. Isn't that right, Peter?" He smiled triumphantly when Peter lowered his head. "This is about compliance. Acquiescence. Capitulation. My formula is designed to make a person completely and utterly docile and compliant to the needs and wants of another. I needed to have a test group, and I found it."

"Compliance… " Peter mused aloud. "If you somehow managed to dose large groups of people – whole populations through the water supply or something – you could…"

"Pave the way for a more ordered society," Bell finished.

"Enslave entire cities, you mean!" Olivia exclaimed. "You want to sell this to the highest bidder, don't you?"

"I already have an offer, Miss Dunham," Bell said evenly, his eyes flickering to Gemini. "But I find I need to do one more test."

Gemini approached, and set a small lab beaker on the table. "This is the combined dose of my formula. I split it into four cumulative ones before, but I need to know the results of a combined dose. And one of you is going to help me."

"Yeah, right," Peter spat.

"No way," Olivia said at the same time.

Gemini nodded, and the goons pulled their guns, aiming them squarely at Peter and Olivia's heads. "Oh, I think you will," Bell said. Either one of you drinks, or the other one dies."

"You're nuts," Peter said through gritted teeth.

"Bastard!" Olivia shouted.

"I'm a scientist. Those three things are not mutually exclusive. Now… Drink."

Peter and Olivia looked at each other for a moment, Peter offering her a sad, affectionate smile. Olivia looked away; she had to try and reason with Bell. If he had worked with Walter, there had to be –

Peter lunged for the beaker, picked it up, and drank the formula in one swallow.

"Well done," Bell smirked.

"Oh, God!" Olivia cried as Peter clutched his chest and doubled over. She pulled against the restraining arms of her captors, lowering her head to try and get a glimpse of Peter's face. "Peter, no!"

He lifted his head ever-so-slightly, and gave her a wink. "Now!" he shouted, slamming backwards into his own captors.

Following his lead, Olivia took "her" goons by surprise, and slipped out of their grasp, turning and slamming a knee into one of their groins, while throwing an elbow into the other's face.

Peter had managed to hold onto the beaker, and crushed it into one goon's face; he spun and got behind the other, slipping his bound hands over the captor's head in a choke hold. In seconds, the goon went still.

Gemini was slipping out a side door when the front doors suddenly blew open, and a crowd of cops ran in, led by Lt. Broyles. "PD! Drop your – " He stopped when he saw four unconscious, fedora-clad bald men on the floor, a barefoot Olivia Dunham in smeared lipstick, tousled hair and a ripped evening gown, and Peter Bishop, whose tuxedo seemed to have a missing tie. "What the hell?"

Peter, bent over at the waist trying to catch his breath, looked over at Olivia and grinned. "I knew you were a good dancer," he wheezed.

Olivia barked a laugh. "Nice of ya to join the party, Chief. What, your invite get lost in the mail or something?"

"Actually, Constance Nash told us you were in trouble," Broyles said as two of his officers cut the zip ties from Olivia and Peter's wrists. "She dropped the dime on you two to these guys, but felt kinda bad afterward. Seems this is where she came to pick up her love potion, so we thought we'd drop by."

"Well, that works for me," Peter said, finally straightening up. He stood up just in time to see a glint of metal out of the corner of his eye. "Gun!" he yelled, shoving Broyles out of the way as Gemini reappeared and fired a shot that hit Peter square in the chest. Broyles' men opened fire; Gemini fell like a ton of bricks.

"No!" Olivia shrieked as Peter slammed against the wall, then slid down to a dead stop. "Please, Peter." He wasn't dead. She couldn't lose him. Not after the way she had left things. She knelt on the floor next to him, resting her forehead against his. "For once, in my life, I have someone who needs me…" she sang softly, cradling his head in her hand.

Peter gasped suddenly, jerking to consciousness. "Olivia!" he exclaimed.

"Hey," she said softly, her hand on his cheek as he focused. "You're back. It's okay."

"You all right, doll?" he asked. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "Broyles?"

"Fit as a fiddle, Bishop," Broyles said, sauntering over. "You're pretty quick on your feet, boy. I appreciate the interception. But, if you don't mind my askin', why are you alive? That bullet took you square in the ticker."

Peter unbuttoned his tuxedo shirt, exposing the metal gate that enclosed his glass heart. The gate now sported an extra decoration – a flattened 38-caliber bullet. He nodded to Olivia; she gently pried the pancaked projectile from the gate, and opened the doors. There, in his chest, the glass heart beat, strong and sure.

"Well, I'll be good God-damned," Broyles said, adding a whistle for good measure.

Olivia gently closed the gate, resting a hand tenderly on it afterward. Suddenly, she remembered. "But… the potion… you drank it! How come… "

Peter merely smiled. "I have some theories," he said cryptically. "We can talk about that later."

"You're damn right we will," Olivia said hotly. "We'll talk about what the hell you were thinking when -"

"Bell!" Peter shouted, pointing at the TV screen.

They all turned. It suddenly went dark. Bell was gone. "Damn it," Olivia snapped, her fists clenching.

Peter wrapped his hands lightly around her wrists; her fists unclenched. "He'll get his someday. Don't worry."

"Ya know, Bishop, I actually believe you," Olivia smiled.

"Why wouldn't you? I'm as honest as the day is long," he joked.

"Oh, right. Well, I'll say this for you. You sure know how to show a girl a good time." She ruffled his hair.

"Don't say I never take you anywhere, doll face," he retorted, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it.

"Get a room, you two," Broyles groaned.

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