IT SHIFTS AGAIN
Friend Or Foe
They are sitting, of all places, on a wide, movable ladder just to the side of the Machine. Out of the way enough to stop any of the scientists from both worlds protesting against their presence, but too much in full view of all the researchers and statisticians at work within the Bridge to Lincoln's liking. Olivia seems distracted though, and more than a little unsettled.
"So, he just appeared out of nowhere?"
Olivia purses her lips, and Lincoln automatically prepares himself for the outburst that'd normally follow the same expression on Liv's face. But Olivia just sighs, and then shrugs tiredly. "Not exactly 'out of nowhere', he appeared in the middle of Reiden Lake. Swimming – who knows? Rescued by a father and son who were fishing."
"My father used to take me fishing at Reiden Lake in the summer when I was young," Lincoln says softly, remembering a man whose shadow, even in death, he'll most likely never surpass, at least in his own eyes. "You know who else had a summer house there?"
"Walter Bishop," Olivia replies with a sideways look at the man who so complicates her thoughts and emotions these days.
"Our Reiden Lake is now ambered. It was one of the first locations the Secretary had quarantined after he developed the compound for amber," for a moment he looks sad. Then more cheerfully, and all too obsequious, "Do you think your mystery guy has a double on my side? Want me to discreetly check our databases?"
"You?" Olivia raises an eyebrow and smirks, "Discreet?"
"What, I'm discreet, ask-" Olivia starts to laugh silently, her nose all crinkled up, and her shoulders shaking. "Well, ask people- though not Liv. Or Charlie. They lie about me all the time."
Still grinning, Olivia nudges him gently, "Why do I get the feeling it'll be Agent Farnsworth who'll do the actual searching?"
"Well, she's better at it," he leans sideways against her, their shoulders pressing together. "And faster too."
Olivia dreamily watches his fingers surreptitiously entwining themselves around hers, "I dunno, Broyles didn't say- I'm not sure if it's the right time for your Secretary to know."
Lincoln looks up, momentarily confused, "What does the Secretary have to do with this?"
"Mystery guy says he's Peter Bishop. And he knows too many details about everything. Broyles is-"
"Wait. The Secretary's kid? I thought he died?" his grip tightens around her fingers.
"Well, he did. I mean, both Peter Bishops, yours and the one from our side - as far as it has been reported anyway. We're not really sure who this man is, or his agenda, but he's agreed to a DNA test. Walter's being difficult about it right now though," Olivia looks intently at Lincoln. "If he does end up being who he claims to be - who's to say which side's Peter Bishop he is." A slightly horrified look crosses her face, "Lincoln, this is important. You can't- You cannot mention this to anyone. Not even to your team."
"Olivia-"
"No, I know what I'm asking. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything all, but-" and she pulls her hand away from his. His fingers curl around the sudden emptiness, but he stops himself from reaching for her. She gets up from their makeshift seat, and stares across the long length of the warehouse-like space at the two opposing doorways to the Bridge.
Lincoln watches her shoulders slump forward. She shakes her head sadly as she faces him, guilt clearly written on her face. As she opens her mouth to continue, he interrupts, "Don't even say it."
She bites her lip, "But it's true. I may have compromised this fragile peace we've got going. Do you understand the consequences?"
"Or maybe this- no, maybe he is just another event," he says leaning forward, willing her to stop working herself up, but failing. "Another victim, or perpetrator, caught between the cracks of our breaking worlds and the deranged laws of science and nature in both."
"I think this time it's different. I can feel it. It's something... more."
"Then you haven't compromised anything," he stands up now too, and firmly takes hold of her hands. "All joking aside, you can trust me. I won't say anything until you get your orders. Until you deem it safe. I give you my word."
She looks up at him, eyes not quite disbelieving, but unsure nevertheless. "Remind me again how this," and he knows exactly to what she is referring. "Why this isn't a bad idea."
A little hurt at her inability to fully trust him despite never having given her a reason to not trust him in the first place, Lincoln can't think of the words to reassure her. Instead, he kisses her slowly and gently. At least she seems as willing to disregard any audience they might've attracted. "You can trust me. I'll prove it to you."
Olivia keeps her eyes closed as she remains within the circle of his arms. Doubt, guilt and defiance fight for dominance within her. She runs the knuckle of one hand down his chest, hearing his sudden intake of breath. It makes her smile, so she leans back and looks him in the eye and nods.
"Okay," she says, stepping away from him. "But I've got to go. I hope those files help with your case."
"It will," he smiles, but he still feels a distance between them, making him feel frustrated. "Good luck with yours."
They walk side by side toward their respective doors, hands brushing every now and then. Just before his door slides shut, he calls out to her, "When am I going to see you again?"
Olivia cocks her head to the side, and then impulsively asks, "What are you doing tomorrow night? It's my guardian's birthday."
He laughs, for a moment back to being the eager and mischievous Lincoln she knows. "Yeah? Barring the end of the world, I'm in, especially if there's dancing."
Definitely The Enemy
Olivia just rolls her eyes in amusement. As she turns back to her door, she catches a scientist's eyes before he in turn walks behind a row of servers where a number of similarly dressed science and tech personnel are working. Brandon Fayette. From the other side. Her hand is on her gun before she's fully conscious of the movement. A cold feeling of dread runs down her spine. Olivia swears to herself.
