FRINGE
Fourth Time is the Charm - part 9
No in FRiNGEment intended. I'm just playing with the characters. Who wouldn't?
Note: it's almost New Year's Eve but I'm not out of the woods yet. Sorry it takes me so long.
As usual your input is highly appreciated ;)
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"I can tell that you're not in the mood to sleep either, am I right?"
Olivia's face turned crimson and she knelt in front of the fireplace to hide her embarrassment.
"Let me make sure that Walter is okay and I'll be right back."
He jumped from the bed and ran upstairs. He was already pounding on Walter's door. She heard a muffled conversation and the door slammed shut behind him. Why would Peter go back to the house? She was pretty much certain that she did not cry out for any help nor raised her tone when she had found out that Walter was up and lurking. He might have needed a glass of water or an extra blanket. She had no idea where he actually made up his mind to sleep in the first place.
Before she had time to mull over his presence and rebuild a decent fire, Peter tumbled down the wooden staircase and dropped on the sofa like a stone eliciting protest rattles from the mattress springs of the opened bed and an intriguing stare from Olivia.
"I'm not sure Walter will go back to sleep but I'm sure he won't come out of his room and down to haunt you anytime soon," Peter smirked. He wrapped tightly the blanket around him in an attempt to cover his naked body and plaid boxer short. "I can't believe he had the nerves to get into your bed. I'm sorry Liv, I should have given it a second thought before leaving you in the house with him."
"Told you it was okay," she mumbled. "Calm down. It was no big deal. I was just… surprised," she smiled, turning her back to the fire.
"I'm glad I have been of some assistance. It's a good thing I can't sleep but what I do need at this point is some real time on my hands to write CliffsNotes for the taking care of Walter and hand the baby so to speak to someone else. I can't take any more of his crap."
"It's my fault entirely," she said sounding alarmed.
He lifted on his elbow and rested his head on his fist. Watching her play with the embers he gave her time to unravel her thoughts.
"You…" she finally said softly, "you were not supposed to be a… permanent solution. I can understand that you find it a bit hard to deal with him on a daily basis."
"More like 24/7 if you ask me."
She nodded and poked at the fire.
"We always go back to the gist of the problem: serious lack of space. In Boston I'm doomed to share a hotel room with him and in here, it's the same difference. I don't mean to beat a dead dog all the way back to life as we know it but I do need to be alone, I swear to God Liv, I'm falling apart at the seams."
She gnawed at her lower lips with an indecisive gaze in his general direction. "Oh… I can --I can sleep in the garage… or the boat if you want some privacy. Where were you anyway?"
It did not sound the way it should have, she thought. He waved at her dismissively.
"No need to bolt just yet Dunham, I was just venting. I'm aware that I'm stuck with the evil genius for a while and I usually have no problem with that. During the day it's kinda fun actually going back to the basics and helping him with twisting science to fit his vision. But at night, I could do without the…"
"Yes, I know. And I promise you that I will look into that first thing as soon we get back to Boston."
She gave him her best attempt at a smile and turned around to watch the fire. Thoughts of grilling wieners and marshmallows popped in her head and she discovered she was hungry.
"But for now let me take care of you. So… did you find anything to drink yet? I'm really really thirsty."
"Yup." She clasped her hands before her and leaned towards him a little. "I found a Bushmills 21 year single malt. Your friend is quite the expert. I was under the impression that these bottles were a limited thing…"
"You can count on Mitch to get the good stuff," he winked jumping from the bed to the kitchen. "I'll get the glasses. No ice right?"
"Peter? I have to eat something. I'm still a bit tipsy already from our drinks on the pier."
"My thought exactly. My last meal at the airport seems like eons ago. I have to apologize for being such a poor host. Let me make it up to you by fixing you a sandwich."
-o-
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Peter woke up, his eyelids fluttered. He could not open his eyes, his head was pounding. He could not believe he was so badly hangovered. The taste of whiskey was still potent in his mouth and rather disgusting to be honest.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Walter, would you stop? I have a massive headache without you summoning me for breakfast with your usual tricks."
"Sorry Peter. I was not aware I was disturbing you…"
"Walter?" Peter opened his eyes and winced when the room swayed in front of him. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing. I promise you Peter, I did not touch anything."
"Stop acting like a lunatic please. Obviously what I meant was: why are you here?"
Walter looked flabbergasted. He titled his head.
"Peter? YOU took ME don't you remember that at least? Probably you should quit drinking," he whined. "You told me we were going to have a fun vacation in Florida with agent Dunham. So much for Florida if my day has to start without any breakfast on New Year's Eve no less. I would likely go for oatmeal and…"
"Walter, stop rambling already. Why are you in my bed?"
"Technically this bed is not yours, it is agent Dunham's."
"Walter!" Peter groaned. He pushed away the blankets and stood up, wrapping hastily himself in a sheet. "What happened? Where is Olivia? When did you get downstairs? Why did you sleep in her bed?"
"Calm down son. You seem to be the one who slept in her bed and I'm not asking why," said Walter matter-of-factly before turning tail and scurrying to the kitchen. "I'm afraid I can't help you. As much as I'd like to bounce ideas off you this morning, I have no answers. No answers at all. You don't happen to know if we have any milk, do you. We should have taken Gene along…"
Peter knew when it was best to drop it. He put milk, cereals, coffee on the counter and went to the garage to retrieve a change of clothes. Olivia was not in the hammock either. A quick glance to the pier showed no sign of her but their rental car was missing. So were his memories of the night before.
"Peter? Son, are you here?"
"Yes Walter. Here, in the garage."
Walter was beaming and holding to a pink post-it for dear life. "She left a note. She says she is going to find us some menus for us to order in tonight. Can you think of a greatest idea? I'd like to have some…"
"You can have anything you want Walter. Now I will have a shower while you try not to burn down the house when boiling eggs."
-o-
"Allo?" said a hesitant and raucous male voice.
"Charlie… Olivia," she said.
She combed her hair with her fingers and stuck a loose strand behind her left ear. She tucked on her wool jacket then absently bit her thumb, pressing her cell phone to her ear. The ocean was calm and grey. She was parked on the seafront and sat on the hood of her rental SUV.
"Liv? What… what time is it? Something wrong?"
He paused and stayed quiet for a brief instant and she heard him shuffling inside his bed and pushing the sheets away. He breathed heavily. She could picture him rubbing his face to take the fogginess away.
" –you're seeing John again?"
"Err… I woke you up didn't I? I'm sorry, I forgot you were in LA."
"Don't bother. One has got to get up anyway, it's almost time to get back to work," said Charlie.
He checked his watch. 3:42 am.
"Sort of… Shoot, I'm listening."
"I am in Florida."
"Oh… you are? Good for you, it was about time that you leave Boston and take a vacation. I'm glad you finally decided to follow my advice. Listen, I'm almost done here, I could arrange to stop by and celebrate the New Year with you."
"I'm with Walter..."
"I see."
She sighed. "… and Peter."
"Okay. And is it good or bad?" he asked, absorbing the fact that she had failed at accepting his offer.
"I don't… I, --I have no idea Charlie. I feel that I keep making the same mistake over and over again."
"Mixing the job with your personal life?" he asked bluntly.
Charlie Francis used to be a NYPD Detective in another life time. He could sense the variations in a voice even on the phone and detect when it was important or if it was important and find an angle to work with. And this morning, the only angle he was discovering was that he was too late.
He chose to give her some space, some time to recover from her loss and properly grieve and he felt he had been taken advantage of. He was wrong obviously to think he could be more than a shoulder. Or maybe he could have been, given that Peter was not in the picture. But he was, and he had been all along, since day one when she went to bring him back from Iraq to Sainte Claire. Before John was a dead traitor, these two had forged a bond of an incredible strength without even noticing it.
Astrid was right. But to her credit, she was around the Bishops more than he was. And she liked Peter. He was easy to talk to, funny, not an agent.
"Yes, that," she whispered.
"Talk to me, get it out of your system." I can take it, he thought. "I'm not going anywhere."
"We are at his friend's house, Peter's friend, in the Keys."
"Nice."
"Yup. We flew over here last night."
"And the sky is falling already?"
"No… Maybe… I don't know, I guess I'm having a hard time figuring that out. And you're right. I've been seeing John again. A lot. That's part of the reason why I'm in Florida. Peter tried to help me in Boston, we even got a dog at some point… I'm not making any sense am I?"
"No you're not Liv. Listen, why don't you breathe and tell me what's really bothering you?"
"I don't want to fall for any guy Charlie, I'm not ready."
"You sound like it's a bit too late already if you ask me."
"I know. Who am I kidding right?" She was pacing in front of the car now. "I'm just trying to fool myself. Listen, we had a few drinks yesterday."
"Okay," he trailed.
"And… I fell asleep. And when I woke up, I was cuddled up in his arms, nuzzling against his chest. You're a guy's guy. What do you think?"
"That you were drunk," said Charlie in an even tone. "And sex and alcohol often…"
"We didn't… I mean, I haven't… I don't…"
"Okay, no sweat, I get it. You fell asleep period and you left before he noticed you spent the night with?"
"Yup, drove off. I had to stop for a coffee. If I'm given a breath test now I swear to God Charlie I will spend the rest of my life in jail," she chuckled with embarrassment. "Charlie you still there?"
"Yes. Well. No harm done. As far as he's concerned, you two had a few buddy drinks."
"Except that he's in my bed."
"Yes except that. But you're not, are you? So stop worrying yourself sick and think. What does it say about this so-called doomed romance?"
"That there's none?" she asked cautiously. "You're right. I'm overreacting. He doesn't have to know."
"Liv it's none of my business but you came to me so now please hear me out. You probably should start asking yourself the right questions if you want to get some valid answers. Unless you're looking for another..."
"Debacle?"
"So you said. Peter won't be around forever. Well my proposition stands Liv. If you want me to fly to Florida tomorrow, I'd be happy to oblige."
"Go back to sleep Charlie. I'm glad we could talk. And Charlie, thank you."
"My pleasure."
Charlie watched the screen of his phone going dark and tossed the phone on his bed. He placed his hands behind his head, crossed his legs and stared at the ceiling. It was going to be a long day.
-o-
