A/N: Sorry it's been so long between updates. Thanks for the reviews. Just one more chapter to go after this.

Chapter 7 - The One In Which They Meet Mr. Jones

"David Robert Jones?" Olivia could hear Charlie typing it in as he said it. "So what are we looking for exactly?"

"Any connect between Jones and our case. Or a connection to William Bell." As soon as Olivia had seen Jones' face on the screen she had flown out of the nursing home and was currently on route back to the federal building.

There was a pause as Charlie filtered through the information. "Well he was a student at Harvard. Don't know if he ever knew Bell, but their time there overlap by a year, so it's possible. After that it's the usual collection of academia and lab work. And then he goes off the grid for a while. That's weird, he's currently leasing a commercial property here in Boston."

"Where?"

"Oh you're going to love this Liv, it's a warehouse, one guess where."

"The first crime scene?"

"The very same. It would have been Jones' garbage that the victim was found near."

Olivia made a sharp U-turn, "Okay Charlie, I'm going to need you to meet me there with a team. Send some uniforms out before us, but tell them not to engage, just to keep watch and make sure that Jones doesn't leave".

Even before she turned down the street Olivia knew something was wrong; something felt off. She turned south and saw the sky filling with plumes of black smoke. In moments her suspicions were confirmed. Flames licked what remained of the warehouse's windows and the roof was partially collapsed. Olivia ran her fingers through her hair in frustration as she watched her first real break in the case go up in smoke.

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"So was anything at the scene salvageable?" Peter asked as he handed Olivia a coffee.

"I don't know. We're still waiting for the go ahead from the fire department before we can get investigators onto the scene. But it doesn't look good. Whatever the fire didn't destroy the attempts to put out the flames most probably did."

"Ah, fire and water. It's always that way. Life and death, renewal and destruction, forever linked".

Olivia looked up at Walter, but was too exhausted to even respond. Fortunately, she was spared a reply by the ringing of her phone, "Maybe this is them. Dunham?"

"Agent Dunham? This is Emily Curran. I thought you should know, that man, Mr. Broid or whatever his name really is, well he's here and he's acting very strange. We're afraid."

"Okay, Emily, I'm on my way there, in the mean time, phone the police and keep your distance from him. If you could evacuate the building or seal off the rooms without putting yourself in danger it's not a bad idea". Olivia hung out the phone and throw her coat over her shoulders in one motion, "Jones's with Bell. I'm headed there". Peter grabbed his coat and followed her towards the door, "No, Peter. Stay here".

"That's just not going to happen."

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The police were already on the scene by the time Peter and Olivia arrived. They had cordoned off the area and had most of the staff and the patients secured in a separate part of the building. They haven't been as successful with Jones. He had sealed himself in a small room with Bell and threatened to kill him if anyone stepped foot in the room. "Is he armed?" Olivia asked the lead officer.

"I'm not sure. We couldn't tell if he had a weapon or not, but he was carrying a syringe filled with red liquid. He had it pointed at the vegetable's throat."

"So what are you thinking?" Peter asked as soon as the officer was out of earshot.

"I'm thinking I'm going in that room."

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

As a civilian, it should have seemed ridiculous to Peter to be strapping on a bulletproof vest and following Olivia directly into danger, but Peter didn't even question it. Whether it was echoes of his dreams or just a strong desire to be at her side, somehow he knew that he was exactly where he was suppose to be. The SWAT team was already lining the halls as they approached the room. They looked at Olivia skeptically, but parted for her and Peter. There they stood, in front of the door, as if waiting for an invisible sign to tell them to begin. "I guess we should knock," Olivia said, throwing Peter a sideways glance. She did just that and waited.

"I've already told the last person that if anyone attempts to enter this room I will kill this man. Did you expect I would tell you something else?" Came a cocky voice from behind the door.

"I think you will. I think that anyone that has gone to the kind of trouble you have gone through to try to save this man wouldn't be in a rush to kill him."

There was a long pause. Peter held his breath.

"You are different, aren't you? Well, Miss... Forgive me. What is your name?"

"I'm Agent Olivia Dunham with the FBI."

"Well Miss. Dunham, you seem to be more informed than your predecessors. How is that, exactly?"

"Before I can answer that, you're going to have to let me come inside."

What followed was a long moment of thoughtful silence. "Very well. But I will speak only to you." Olivia turned away from the door for the first time and looked back at Peter. The look said, 'stay here'. The look she got in response said, 'not a chance'. She shrugged and opened the door.

Jones looked rather surprised to find two people in his company. Instinctively Peter put up his hands. "Hey, I know you said just her but I'm not armed, I'm just-"

"You're not FBI, are you?"

Peter almost laughed, "No, I'm not", and then when Jones raised an eyebrow he added, "I'm just here with her."

Jones smiled at that. It was a sinister smile, the kind you might imagine on a cartoon snake as it speaks to a mouse. He turned back to face Olivia, but still directed his comment to Peter, "I imagine she has that affect on a lot of people. Well, Miss. Olivia Dunham, you were going to tell me what it is you think you know about me and my work".

Olivia took a step closer to him, her hands at her side, ready for the situation to change. "I know that you have been working on a cure for Bell. That you've been testing it on innocent civilian. I've seen the trail of bodies you've left in your wake."

"Ah yes, progress isn't without its price."

"16 dead is a hell of a price."

"If it was someone you loved, someone who you cared about, you wouldn't think so. Besides, need I remind you that he's not dead yet? And with this he may just come alive again".

Peter couldn't help himself, "So is it finished then? Is that the cure?"

Jones considered him, "It may be". He turned back to Olivia, a strange and familiar look dancing across his features. Peter had seen that look on his father's face countless times; when he was examining a new specimen or poring over a report. It was the look of a clever mind trying to work something out. "You're the one that sent the police to my lab". Olivia said nothing, but the look of contempt she gave him said it all. "Well then, young lady, if this man dies today it will be your doing".

"I thought you said it would cure him," Peter interjected again.

"I said it might. It is the closest I have ever come, but I was unable to test it. I suppose there's one way to find out". Jones raised the needle towards Bell's neck. In the same moment Olivia had her gun aimed at his head.

"Don't do it. Put it down, Jones". The needle remained firmly in place, but it had yet to pierce the skin. "You have done so much to cure him, how can you risk his life now?"

Much to their surprise Jones started laughing. The needle held its place, but his eye found Olivia's, "Life? You call this life? Look at him, Miss. Dunham". The truth was, if Bell's life wasn't hanging in the balance, it would be hard to remember he was even in the room. He sat just in front of Jones, his hands cross in the usual way, his eyes staring out just beyond them, only ever moving when Jones moved him. He was as pliable as any puppet, and Jones was looking to cut the strings. Jones had been looking at him, at his state, with disgust, but soon a different look spread across his face. It was a look of caring and admiration. "He was meant to do great things. We were meant to do great things together".

"But that's not what happened," Olivia said, never taking her finger off the trigger.

"Silly girl, isn't that the highest pursuit of science? Concurring fate and bending the world to our whim?"

Two thing happened next in such quick succession that Peter didn't have time to process them until they were over. Jones plunged the syringe into Bell's neck and Olivia shot him right through the shoulder.

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The initial moments of chaos, in which the room filled with the SWAT team, an unconscious Jones was hand cuffed, and both men were rushed to the hospital, were soon followed by the necessary bureaucracy of statements, phones calls, and notes taken for future paper work. While Olivia finished up with the lead officer on duty Peter put a quick call into Harvard to tell Walter what had happened. Peter could already sense Olivia standing behind him as he hung up the phone.

"Was that Walter?"

"Yeah. He's going to head over to the hospital to lend a hand. He seemed rather pleased about it to tell you the truth."

"That's good. Besides Jones, Walter's the closest thing we have to an expert on this virus."

"Do we know anymore?"

"Not really. The cops have found his car, but there was nothing in there. They're making their way to his apartment now, but I suspect it will be the same. I think he destroyed the rest of his supplies in the fire."

Peter felt crestfallen, "So could he walk?"

"Fortunately, he brought just enough stuff and made just enough of a scene to hang himself."

"So we saved the day." Peter said in disbelief.

"I think we did." She smiled at him and let out a breath. It felt like the first time all night she had a moment to release all the tension that had been building up for the past hour.

Peter felt it too, "Do you want to get a drink. Or five?"

Olivia laughed, "Actually, Jones should be out of surgery in the next little while and I wanted to be the first person to talk to him".

Of course she did, Peter thought. "Hey I'm just happy I didn't die today". He was about to add that with only one syringe his odds of survival were actually pretty good, but he noticed Olivia was looking away. She seemed lost to her own thoughts. "What's wrong?"

She looked back at him and made a bit of a face as she tried to distill her thoughts into words, "I was thinking about what Jones said about Bell and about 'concurring fate'. Thinking about how he would do anything to make the world into what he thought it should be".

"Well he is a sociopath."

"Yeah, but what's our excuse?" Peter raised an eyebrow. "We were warned and we have it on good authority that those Observers actually do exist out of time, and yet that didn't stop us. Stop us from making the world what we wanted it to be". She was looking at him now with an unreadable expression, but Peter knew he couldn't wait any longer. He had to say something. His head flooded with all the things he'd wanted to say, wanted to ask, and so what ended up coming out of his mouth was some sort of horrible mix-up of all of it.

"What do you think of me?" It really didn't make any sense in the context and he didn't blame her for having such a confused look on her face. He tried to save himself. Mostly, he was trying not to ramble. "I mean we always talk about what they, the other us's, think of each other, but what do you think of me? Because I can't stop thinking about you. I have never met anyone like you. I think you're amazing". He ran out of steam before he ran out of things he wanted to say, but now that silence hung between them, he somehow knew that it would have to be her who broke it. At least if something were to come out of it. She looked at him, she looked away, she looked back. She didn't say anything thing. He took a step back, deflated. She seemed about to follow, but the lead officer had just entered the room. He had something for her to see. She was asking for a minute, but Peter saw his moment and he took it. "I'm sorry Olivia, I shouldn't have said that," she looked frantic, but whether that was because of what he said or because he was leaving, he couldn't tell. "You finish up here, I'll just take a cab home". And with that he was gone. She never managed to say anything.

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Peter couldn't sleep. He sat at his kitchen table feeling like a fool. What right did he have to ask her that, to put her on the spot? She didn't owe him anything. Really he had been lucky to be in her life as much as he had. Luck that he couldn't help but feel was about to run out. They'd done the impossible. They'd caught the bad guy, and it haven't occurred to Peter until that very moment, but with the case behind them there wasn't a reason too see each other as frequently. This wasn't the other universe; he wasn't a 'civilian consultant', not in any official way, and how often would she be tasked cases involving virology? And so, although it was nearly two in the morning, he sat in his kitchen and wondered if she would disappear from his life as quickly as she had entered it. His pessimism was interrupted by a knock. With great effort he walked down the hall and opened the door. Olivia was standing there. For a long moment neither of them knew what to say. "I thought you might be Walter."

"At this hour?"

"Sometimes when he can't sleep he comes over here to make waffles. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. This may be presumptuous, but I thought..." she pull a bottle of whiskey out of her coat pocket, "Thought I'd take you up on that drink after all."

Peter smiled and led the way inside, "I'll get us some glasses. Were you able to interview Jones?"

"For about five minute when he got out of surgery. He seemed rather pleased with himself. He admitted to it all. Except Mark Fletcher, our first victim. He seemed genuinely surprised about that one. He accused us of trying to 'pin any unsolved case in the city on him'. Doesn't matter. It's open and shut."

"Then I guess his little virus can't result in the end of the world." Peter said as he poured the drinks.

"Guess not." She was smiling at him, working up her courage.

Peter handed her a glass, "To disaster narrowly averted."

She took a sip and then set the glass back on the counter. "Peter, about what you said before-"

"No, Olivia. Don't worry about that. I... I was out of line-"

"Peter." Her tone demanded his attention and her eyes sought his until he was quiet and looking right at her. "I've been pretty bad at this for a long time. I think that's one thing that transcends universes. But I've been thinking about what you said, what you asked, and I can't stop thinking about you either. I think you know me better than anyone else in the world, which is crazy, because I've only known you for three months. But when I go to bed at night I'm looking forward to hearing your voice in the morning. And I have these dreams and I just think she is so blind to not see what's right in front of her, what's staring her in the face. And all I can think is that if she could see into this universe she'd think I was crazy to put the fate of the whole world in jeopardy just to be friends with you". Olivia's eyes had wondered away from him as she spoke, but now she looked back into his, trying to catch his reaction.

He simply smiled, "What do you think we should do about this?"

She smiled back and then shook her head slightly, as if to dislodge her self-doubt once and for all. She stood up on her toes and kissed him. It was a light kiss, at least at first, but soon his arms were wrapped around her, pulling her further into his embrace. After a moment she pulled away. He watched her carefully, a questioning look on his face. She reached out and took his hand in hers, and then wordlessly led him down the hall and up the stairs.

Peter was surprised his body even moved. He felt as though he was only aware of the three inches of skin on his hand that was in contact with hers. But obediently his legs followed her lead and finally stop just inside his bedroom door. She had released his hand and now they stood facing each other, an arms length away. He should want to grab her, kiss her, run his fingers up her spine, but there was a stillness to the moment that came over him instead. Perhaps it was just a calm before the storm, but he enjoyed the mediation of it. A moment to shift roles, to become something else. He took a step towards her. She followed suit. He reached out to her. He could feel the soft skin of her neck and her smooth coils of hair. But then she was pulling away; reacting to a sound it took Peter a moment to recognize: her cell phone. "One day I'm going to take that away from you and sell it as scrap metal".

She looked apologetic, "It's Charlie, I'll get rid of him, and then I promise to put it on silent." Peter couldn't help but notice the way she moved away from him as she answered, as though the intimate setting couldn't also encapsulate the world of work, "Charlie, it's 2 am on my day off. We've caught the bad guy and saved the world, can't I just have tonight to myself?"

"I'm sorry Livy, but I need you to come back in. We've found two more bodies, and we think there's more on the way."

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