References: Dr Katz (The Dreamscape), "the only choices you have left" (Jacksonville), "to say that you've experienced a trauma" (Marionette), "For being my friend" (Olivia), "Try not to sound so shocked" (6955 kHz), "If you keep going…" (3x02 Fringe/Bones promo)

Olivia stood in front of her bedroom mirror, her fingers gently smoothing over the bruised skin of her stomach in a kind of self-comfort. It was finally starting to fade, turning a yellowy-green, but at its worst it had been an angry black-purple, larger than the size of her hand splayed against it. It was strange how much force a tiny piece of metal could carry behind it.

She heard a creak in the floorboards and saw Peter standing at the door of her room, leaning against the frame. "You OK?" he asked.

She nodded, turning back to the mirror and lifting the hem of her shirt to stare at the bruise again. It was horrible. She hated that it was there – a constant reminder of everything that had happened marring her pale skin. Peter gently walked over. "Let me see," he said, inspecting it tenderly. "It's healing."

She nodded, letting her shirt fall back down and brushing her hair to distract herself.

"You're going in?" he asked.

"Broyles wants to see me about coming back. Apparently I passed my psych-eval but he can be a hard man to convince." She went quiet and kept getting ready, not looking at Peter.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked her.

"I want to go back…"

"But…"

She just shook her head and dropped it a little.

"Livia," he pushed gently.

"Peter, everyone knows." Her voice was small. "Everyone I work with – they all know what I did."

"Hey…" he whispered, cupping her face. "Yeah, they know. But they also know how hard it is. Most of the other Fringe agents have been where you are right now. They won't be judging you. They'll just be glad that you're safe. I know I am."

She smiled weakly and gave him a soft, tender kiss that spoke volumes to him even in its simplicity. He knew she loved him, even if she still wasn't ready to say it out loud.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I shouldn't be too long. I'll pick up some dinner for us after and meet you back here, OK?"

"Sure."

She kissed him again, but paused afterwards.

"What?"

"Nothing," she replied, shaking off whatever she was thinking. "I'll see you tonight."

She was still a little nervous going to the Federal Building, but Peter had reassured her somewhat. Everyone else she walked past was really supportive, saying they were glad to see she was back. Peter was right – she didn't feel like anyone was condemning her.

When she entered Broyles' office, he stood from his desk to shake her hand as she approached. "It's a pleasure to have you back, Dunham," he said earnestly. "Have a seat."

"Thank you, sir."

"I've spoken to Dr Katz," he began. "Don't worry, the specifics of your conversations are entirely confidential, but he says that while you are still processing the incident you seem ready to resume your work here. Do you agree?"

"Yes, sir. I'd very much like to come back."

"I understand that you're keen, Dunham. You always have been. But as your boss I have to move carefully here. As you know, we're under a lot of scrutiny in this office. That being said, I'd like to bring you back on a…probationary basis. You can start on Monday if you wish. You'll be carrying out your regular duties but no raids or other dangerous activities yet. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes, sir."

"We can put you on a different case if you're uncomfortable working in this task force anymore."

She shook her head. "I could have died in that raid against ZFT. That man shot me. I want to see it through."

He sighed. "Dunham, how have you been coping since the incident?"

She hesitated and bit her lip. "I keep going over it," she finally confessed. "I keep trying to figure out what I could have done differently."

"There are times when the only choices you have left are bad ones," he said solemnly. "Dunham, to say that you've experienced a trauma is an understatement, but things could have been a lot worse if you hadn't acted the way you did. You were the first in the team to see the shooter. Taking quick, instinctive action as you did may have prevented him from killing yourself or a fellow agent."

"Did we ever find out who he was?" she asked tentatively.

He pulled out a file and placed it in front of her. "We didn't find much. He spent most of his life off the grid."

She reached for the file hesitantly. While she was uncomfortable about this, she knew it was important to understand who it was that she killed. Seeing his photo was painful, but it was necessary. "Nicholas Rafael Delucia," she read in a whisper. "That was his name."

"36 years old. He was an Italian national originally, then a British citizen. He's been involved in organised crime since he was a teenager. It appears he was initially working in Europe trafficking women to the US, and then he got involved with ZFT cells based here."

"No family?"

"None that we can find. He was probably orphaned as a child in Rome and fell into local organised crime there. It's not uncommon."

She shook her head, closing the file. That was just fucking sad.

"I know what you're thinking, Dunham. He had a hard go of it. But he was involved in this lifestyle for 20 years - committing crimes and ruining lives. He tried to kill you. I'm not saying he deserved to die, but going the way he was going…Sometimes it's hard not to kill a man who's already about the business of killing himself."

She nodded, but the thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. One she couldn't swallow down. She shook her head to clear it.

"Dunham," Broyles pressed gently. "Are you sure you're ready to come back?"

"Yes. I need my life back, sir."

"I'll see you on Monday, then. And Dunham, if you're having second thoughts, I want you to come to me. Alright?"

"Yes, sir."

He stood and shook her hand. "Go get some rest. You're gonna need it."

Afterwards, she waited outside the building for Charlie to meet her after work and they walked through the nearby park. "Do you think you're really ready to come back to work?" he asked her after a while.

"I want to be there, Charlie."

"I know. But it's not the same thing."

She paused. "I'm not sure anymore. I mean, I hope I'm ready…." She trailed off, looking at the ground.

"Liv, I know there's something else bothering you. You can tell me."

She bit her lip and the threat of tears stung her eyes, but she took a deep breath and suppressed them. "I learned his name today," she finally said. "The man from the raid."

"Oh Liv…It's not your -"

"Oh God, don't say that sentence again. Please," she interrupted. "I've had so many people tell me it's not my fault it just feels more and more like a lie every time I hear it."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

She shook her head to tell him not to worry about it and rubbed her bleary eyes. "Everybody keeps trying to convince me he was an animal, or a monster. They say that because he shot me he was only bringing it on himself. Hell, even Broyles said that," she scoffed. "But he had a name, Charlie. He was a person. I mean, he was a child once. And I know the file said he had no family we knew of, but he has a mother somewhere. Everyone has a mother. He was born in one of the poorest, most dangerous areas of Rome, probably orphaned and recruited by gangs..." Her voice started cracking. "I mean, the guy never had a chance, Charlie. He was fucked. From the beginning. That was his life. And because of me, he'll never have a chance to get out of that world."

"Do you really think he would have?"

"Peter did."

"Peter was lucky," Charlie reminded her. He sighed. "Olivia, you're right. He was a person and he deserved a second chance. But so do you. Liv, that whole shootout happened within a split second. There was no way to think about it or consider the options. There was no warning. You can't plan that shit, Liv. It's life. You acted on gut instinct and a sincere desire to live and for that reason, you're standing here today and he hasn't got the chance to change his life. He hasn't got the chance to do anything at all, but you do, Olivia. God, Liv, you still have a life! Peter still has a girlfriend, and Rachael still has a sister and I still have my best friend. If you really believe that this man deserved a second chance then you have to turn that back on yourself and be glad that you got one, Olivia. You have to, or this thing's gonna eat you whole."

She nodded and blinked her tears away. Even though she knew he was right, she still found it hard to look at him as she was collecting herself. "I have to go. I told Peter I'd go home after I saw Broyles."

"OK. Take care of yourself, Livvy," he replied, giving her a warm hug.

"Thanks, Charlie," she whispered earnestly.

"For what?"

"For being my friend," she said, pulling away. "I'll see you at work on Monday, OK?"

"Can't wait," he said, grinning at her.

As she walked back through the park, she kept thinking about what Charlie said, and for the first time since the shooting, she felt grateful. She'd been so caught up in wrestling with her morality that she forgot to appreciate that she was alive. As she walked through the park, she took in how beautiful it was. She walked past the swings she and Peter sat on the night he told her about Cape Town, on that hill overlooking the sunset over the city. Her mind was filled with memories, and imaginings of things to come. Charlie was right. She couldn't let this destroy her. She still had a life. And she wasn't going to waste a single moment of it.

She picked up some dinner and walked back to her apartment. When she got there, soft piano music wafted down the corridor to meet her. The other day, she and Peter were at some markets and a man was selling 2nd hand pianos. Peter immediately fell in love with one made of old chocolate brown mahogany - an upright piano, rather than a grand. It was falling to pieces, but still had a beautiful sound and an interesting design so Peter bought it and vowed to restore it. It had taken him forever. Sometimes Olivia would hear him at 3am when he couldn't sleep - hammering, sanding and polishing the old thing into submission. He had refused to let her see it or play it himself until it was perfect. She followed the music to its source until she found Peter sitting at the piano, now completely restored and looking unbelievable.

Olivia walked into his room and smiled. He stopped playing and stood, about to speak, but she shook her head to silence him and urge him to keep going. She sat down beside him on the stool as he played some sweet melody for her. As she listened, she ran her hands over the newly polished wood, over every design he had carved, until she reached the music rack above the keyboard. It was carved so it looked like a huge stretch of vines or tree branches rather than a flat piece of wood to rest sheet music against. Behind it, in the top right corner of the upper panel, he'd carved a single word. Olivia.

He finished the piece and looked to her. She smiled. "You know, you said you could play, but you never told me you were actually good."

He chuckled. "Try not to sound so shocked."

"I'm not," she replied, kissing his cheek and resting her head on his shoulder. Her fingers reached out again and touched the cool surface of the wood. "It's wonderful," she said earnestly. "But why my name?"

"Oh, the piano's not named after you, it's this other Olivia I know," he joked. She laughed and nudged him. He absentmindedly fingered the keys. "Livia, it's like with boats. It's kind of clichéd, but guys always name them after the women they love."

"It's beautiful," she praised. "I can't believe you did all this."

He shrugged and kissed her hair. "How did it go with Broyles?"

"He wants me back on Monday – probationally, anyway."

"That's great!"

She shrugged. "He gave me rope. We'll see if I swing or hang on it."

"Livia, you're gonna be fine. You'll have a lot of support. Just take it one day at a time."

She smiled and kissed him, then tilted her head outside to the kitchen. "You wanna eat?"

"Sure." They went out to get the dinner and snacks she'd brought home and settled on the couch to watch a movie. Eventually they abandoned their food to lie back on the couch together, so she sat between his knees, his arms around her waist. But Olivia was barely watching the movie. As she nestled against Peter's chest, she couldn't help but go over what Charlie said in her mind – she was alive and so she shouldn't let chances get away from her. She looked up to Peter with a knot of anxiety in her stomach, but she willed herself to push past it.

"What?" he chuckled, noticing she was looking up at him.

"I should have told you before," she said softly, suddenly shy. She looked down at their entwined fingers as they rested over her stomach.

"Told me what?" he asked.

"That I love you."

His eyes went wide for a second but then the most joyous smile she'd ever seen adorned his face. "You do?" She nodded and he laughed, kissing her. "You've got no idea how much I've wanted to hear you say that."

"I'm sorry. I've been meaning to tell you. I guess I just kept getting scared."

"Hey, don't apologise. Saying it to someone for the first time is supposed to be hard. I'm just glad you told me. I love you, too."

She sat up and twisted around to kiss him fully. Immediately responding, he wound his fingers through her hair and ran his tongue along her lower lip until she allowed him access. Not breaking the kiss, she hooked her finger in the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him down on top of her as she lay back against the couch. The heat between them intensified as he lay over her, their bodies flush against each other. Her fingers made their way into his hair and down his back, while his hands roamed over her thighs and sides. While the kissing had started out slow and languid, it became hard and ardent, setting a slow-burning fire in the pit of their stomachs. They drove each other crazy wanting more, always more. He felt her grip fistfuls of his shirt and, taking the plunge, slid his hand underneath hers to rest on her hip. She shuddered a little and her breath caught – it fascinated him that he could do that to her. Careful to avoid her bruise, he caressed the bare skin of her belly, making her whimper softly into his mouth. This was getting too much for her to handle.

"Peter…" she murmured breathlessly against him.

He stole away whatever words were coming next with a kiss as his hand went to undo the top couple of buttons of her shirt.

"Peter, wait…"

He looked down at her. She could feel his breath on her face. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, it's just…If you keep going, I'm not going to be able to able to stop."

"And that would be a problem because…?" He smirked cheekily, leaning back down to kiss her neck and collarbone.

She shuddered again but out of nerves this time. "Peter, please. No more." She pushed him back firmly and propped herself up on her elbows. He stared back at her, breathless, aroused and confused. By this point her hair was all messed up, her lips were swollen, her cheeks were flushed and her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her cleavage now visible through the undone buttons of her shirt. But that was always the problem with Olivia Dunham - Peter never knew which part of her to look at.

"I'm sorry," he said, finally finding his voice. "I didn't mean to make you -"

"It's OK. I'm sorry, too," she said, touching his face. "I wish I was ready for this. I know we did it that one time back in Quantico, but this all feels new to me. It's different now – we're different. And with everything that's happened lately I just don't think this is the right time. I'm not saying 'No'. I'm just saying 'Not yet'. Is that OK?"

He chuckled. "Of course it's OK. I don't want you to have second thoughts about this. And you're right – things have been hard for us lately. I don't want it to be like last time where we did it because we were scared and desperate. I want both of us to be sure. I want us to be happy."

"Me too," she said, smiling sweetly. "It's late, we better get to bed. I'll see you in the morning, OK? I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied, unable to wipe that stupid grin off his face. He couldn't get over the fact that she was saying it.

After all this time they were finally on the same page. He was convinced there was no better feeling in the world.

Please Review after that dose of P/O!