Chapter Title: "At First I Was Afraid, I Was Petrified"
Chapter Genre: Humour, Hand in a Jar, Eating
Chapter Rating: PG
Chapter Notes: Walter drags Peter out for hamburgers and milkshakes. What could be more normal than that?
Takes Place: midway between "The Arrival" and "Power Hungry"
Song: "I Will Survive," as sung by Cake
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Fringe. Surprised? ;)
"It took all the strength I had
Just not to fall apart
I'm trying hard to mend the pieces
Of my broken heart
And I spent oh so many nights
Just feeling sorry for myself
I used to cry
But now I hold my head up high"
Sitting in the Harvard parking lot, in the Vista Cruiser, Walter was happily eating his hamburger, careful not to bite into the pale yellow paper wrapper. The warm meat combined with mustard, pickles and ketchup created a world of flavour in his mouth, something that still left him in disbelief; the food at St. Claire's—simply put—was terrible. Dreadful even. Mystery meats, Jello that didn't have enough sugar, over-steamed broccoli, no chocolate—the thought nearly made him gag. Disgusting. He wouldn't even feed that swill to his enemies, which he had plenty of. He didn't bother swallowing as he sucked vanilla milkshake out of his cup. Ah, the mixture of the sweet and savoury, the chewed and the creamy…he could write odes to McDonald's at this moment.
His son's voice broke his thoughts. "Good, Walter?"
Walter nodded feverishly. "Excellent. I never thought I would eat this delicious food again."
"I'm glad you like it," Peter said, giving him a slight smile.
Walter was glad that his son seemed willing to talk with him, so he decided to make conversation. "I doubt Gene would taste as good."
Peter made a face. "Don't talk about eating Gene. That's like talking about eating a family dog."
"You can eat dogs, too, you know," the older man said informatively.
"Walter!"
"It's true, Peter! You know that!"
"No talk of eating dogs, no talk of eating Gene! God! What is wrong with you?" Peter cried, his hands moving around dramatically.
"You started it. I was just trying to talk," Walter grumbled.
"Pick a new topic," Peter growled pointing a French fry at him aggressively.
"Do you remember when we used to sing on our long car trips?" the older man asked curiously.
His son nodded while he drank from his own nearly empty milkshake.
"What songs did we sing?"
"You had an Bob Dylan cassette and we'd change the lyrics around. Sometimes we listened to Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack, sometimes Gershwin." Peter looked a little suspicious. "Why?"
"Why what?" Walter asked, unwrapping the second hamburger that had been waiting patiently in his lap.
"Why did you ask about what we'd listen to in the car?"
He paused, looking down at the hamburger, unsure how to say it without disappointing his son. "I can't remember those details anymore."
Peter looked upset, almost humiliated. "Oh."
"I wish I could," he apologised.
Peter's expression softened and he turned around his seat, looking into the backseat of the still cluttered station wagon. "I think I saw one of the old cassettes floating around on the backseat—ugh! What's this hand still doing back here?!"
His son passed up the jar with the preserved hand; Walter held the jar up proudly, not noticing that he was smearing ketchup and mayonnaise on the dusty glass. "Ah! I knew there was something in here I wanted!"
Peter made a face as he slipped back into his seat. "Put that away!"
Walter dropped the jar down by his feet, pleased. "I want to bring it back to the lab to show my assistant," he said with a mouth full of his hamburger sandwich.
"Her name is Astrid and she is not your assistant. She'd Olivia's assistant," Peter said, sounding peeved.
"Who?" Walter asked.
"Astrid."
"What about her?"
"She's Olivia's assistant."
Who on earth was Peter talking about? "Who's Olivia?"
"Agent Olivia Dunham?"
By now Walter was completely confused. "Who?"
"Never mind!" his son shouted.
Silence fell over the two once more, only the sounds of chewing a car passing by breaking the awkward stillness. Finally, Walter spoke.
"This is a delightful hamburger," he said happily.
Peter sighed and shook his head, looking completely worn out. "Glad you like it."
A/N: Sometimes I just feel so bad for Peter :)
Random Fringe Prediction: This song will play at some point in the series.
