References: Sunday (Over There: Part Two), "whoever that is" (In Which We Meet Mr Jones), Broyles phone call (The Dreamscape), Esterbrook (The Cure), "until you talk" (Bound), "what was written" (Ability), "for very long" (In Which We Meet Mr Jones), "a test" (Entrada)
The Wire references: hands and faces (Sergei), "I'm in" (Sydnor)
Song: Why Don't You and I by Santana and Nickelback Since the moment I spotted you
Like walking 'round with little wings on my shoes
My stomach's filled with the butterflies
And it's alright
Bouncing round from cloud to cloud
I got the feelin' like I'm never gonna come down
If I said I didn't like it then you know I'd lied
"What time is it?" Olivia asked sleepily as soft music played in the background.
"Who cares?" Peter replied. "It's Sunday. The whole point is to relax and not care about things like time."
She nodded, closing her eyes and leaning back to rest against his chest. "Well, it is the first day off they've given me since I went back. Should probably make the most of it," she said, twisting her head back to kiss him softly. They were in her bath – their bath – but by this point the water had gone lukewarm. She ran her hands down his arms as they rested on the side of the tub. Taking this as a cue, he wrapped one of those arms around her naked body while he let the fingers of his other hand come up to draw lazy patterns on her skin.
Every time I try to talk to you
I get tongue-tied
Turns out, everything I say to you
Comes out wrong and never comes out right
She giggled at the sensation. "This is nice," she murmured.
She felt him nod, still caressing her skin soothingly. His fingertips trailed up and down her arms, over her stomach, down her legs. He kissed her hair. "You're beautiful, Livia."
She gave him a weak smile and kissed him softly. "Thanks."
"But…?"
She shrugged and curled a little closer to him, letting her hair fall over her face. "I'm sorry, it's just hard getting used to hearing those words the way you say them. Most guys just say it to scare me or because they think it's what I want to hear."
"You know I mean it though, right? Anyone can see you're beautiful. But Livia, I'm the guy who's in love with you. I notice beauty in you everybody else misses. I'm hard-wired to think that every inch of you is stunning. And I do," he said earnestly, touching her face tenderly.
So I'll say why don't you and I get together
an' take on the world, be together forever
Heads we will and tails we'll try again
So I say why don't you and I hold each other,
fly to the moon and straight on to heaven
Cause without you they're never gonna let me in
She sighed. "I know I can be a little overwhelmed by you sometimes, and I'm sorry I have trust issues. I'm not used to this, and I know I'm not the kind of girl you're used to. Peter, I'm not like you – I haven't had lots of partners before. You have to understand that guys didn't exactly treat me well growing up," she explained, her eyes downcast. "You already know what my stepfather was like. And I know Harris was an extreme case, but he wasn't the first person who's ever tried to push me when I didn't want to, even at school. I learned really young not to trust men, and it took me a while to allow myself to open up to someone in a relationship. The only person I've slept with before you was Lucas back in college, and we were together for a good couple of years before I left for Quantico. I love you, and I know I'm asking a lot, but you're gonna need to bear with me here. I'm still learning how to let someone love me – you're slowly teaching me that. It's never felt like this – not with Lucas or John or anybody. I just – I'm still trying to figure out how to do this, and -"
"Hey," he said, cupping her face. "Has anyone ever told you that you think too much?" She smiled bashfully and he continued. "Livia, I'm sorry that you've had some bad experiences in the past, but none of that changes how I feel for you. I love you for who you are – who those experiences have made you. And despite my faults you love me back. That in itself completely blows my mind. As long as that's true then we can overcome anything else. OK?"
She nodded. He kissed her cheek. "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, Olivia. You're staggeringly beautiful to the rest of the world, but to me? To me you're just about perfect. Didn't you know that?"
There was a long pause. She was completely lost for words, still staring at the spot over her stomach where their fingers were intertwined.
He cupped her face and forced her to look at him. "Sweetheart," he said, his voice weighted with hurt and concern. "You didn't know?"
She smiled faintly, touched by his honesty and heart, and twisted so she was facing him, sitting in his lap half under water. She cupped his face gently in both hands. "I know," she whispered. "You show me every day."
"I love you," he swore to her.
"I love you, too."
He grinned and she kissed him delicately. But as always with them, things didn't stay delicate for very long – especially when they were both naked in their bathtub. He kissed her one last time, long and hard, before his lips moved down her neck and even lower, making her gasp. The water splashed and rippled around them as their hands roamed over each other's bodies. Their breaths started to come heavy, soft moans echoing slightly off the tiled walls. But just as her hands began to rake down his stomach, her cell phone rang.
She pulled back, startled by the sound. "I hate whoever that is," Peter groaned, letting himself slip fully underwater. She chuckled at his acerbic dramatics and answered the phone. "Dunham."
"I need you to work today," came Broyles' authoritative voice.
"It's Sunday. Day off."
"Afraid not," Broyles said as Peter resurfaced. He reached out to her innocently but she held up a hand to ask him to wait a minute.
"Okay," she said to Broyles. "I'm going to tell you something and you're going to think I'm joking, but I'm not. I quit - only just for today and then I'll be happy to help out after the weekend."
Broyles was unfazed by her empty threat. "Meet Agent Lee and I on the helipad in an hour." That was it. She snapped her phone shut and ran a hand through her hair. She looked to Peter, her eyes guilty and disappointed.
"I'm so sorry -" she started.
"Don't be. What's going on?"
"I'm not sure, but I'll probably be back tonight."
"OK. I'll be here."
"Thank you," she said, kissing him quickly and hopping out of the bath to get dressed. The sight tortured Peter, but he promised to himself that he would make up for lost time when she got home.
When Olivia finally got to the helipad at the top of the Federal Building, Broyles and Lincoln would only tell her that they were going to New York Federal Prison. Lincoln wouldn't meet her eyes, and she sensed he knew more than he was telling her. When they got there, Broyles led them both down the dimly lit corridors to a gallery where they could see through one-way glass into an interrogation room. On the other side a man in a chair was being beaten and interrogated.
"This is David Esterbrook," Broyles explained. "American born, living in between Europe and the US. He's one of the traffickers we've managed to capture recently. He has a criminal record in gang crimes but also seems to have a science background. It appears he was recruited by ZFT in prison as a young man. Like the other members we've interrogated, he refuses to cooperate in any way."
"I know the Pentagon is arrogant about torturing terrorists since 9/11, but this is ridiculous," Olivia muttered, hinting at the interrogators. "Surely there's got to be a better way of getting answers out of him."
"We think you may be able to get him to talk."
"Why? Because I'm female?"
"We know it's a bit clichéd, but it works," Lincoln said. "The guy hasn't seen a real woman the whole time he's been in prison and he has a history of sex crimes. We think if you go and interrogate him alone, he might slip up. Are you up for it?"
"Of course," she said. "But how should I approach this? I've never interrogated anyone by myself before."
"Don't reveal any information about yourself, not even your name," Broyles instructed. "If he threatens you, respond to it and then get back on topic. The key is to maintain control of the conversation while making him believe he has some power over you. Then you can turn the tables on him."
Olivia scanned through the man's file and gave her superiors a nod, heading inside as the other interrogators were called out. Lincoln looked to Broyles, his arms crossed. "I don't approve of this little experiment," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll grant you, she's talented and driven. But Broyles, she's just a junior agent, only 23 years old. She's a sexual assault survivor. I can't believe you're even considering her for UC work."
"I don't like it any more than you do," Broyles admitted. "But there's a lot of pressure coming down on us, you know that. Let's just see how she handles this. Often when guys like him get turned on, they talk. If he responds to her, we know she'd be perfect to send in." They fell into a tense silence and watched Olivia from their side of the glass.
Meanwhile, Olivia sat down at a desk opposite the prisoner. He was panting in pain from his beating, his head hung. But once he saw her, he gave her a crooked smile. "Well hello," he slurred. "Nice to see such a pretty face. What did I do to deserve this?"
"I'm here to discuss the crimes for which you are imprisoned here, Mr Esterbrook," she said coolly, disdain for this man already boiling inside her. "You've been found working in a human trafficking ring within the bioterrorist group ZFT. What exactly was your job within ZFT?"
He leaned forward a little, looked her over. "How old are you? 24?"
Remembering what Broyles said about giving him power, she looked away before answering. "I'm not here to talk about me, Mr Esterbrook."
"Call me David. And I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, love," he teased. "I only ask because – you know, I don't know anything about that trafficking shit – but I'm sure guys would pay a fair bit to fuck a piece of ass like you -"
"That's enough," she spat.
"What about a name, honey? Will you give me that at least? A man gets lonely in here, you know. How about you tell me something about yourself, and maybe I tell you something you want to hear - quid pro quo. What do you say?"
"I'm not playing this game with you," she snapped, opening his file. "I've gone over your record – gang affiliations, sexual assaults... As a young man you were convicted with conspiracy in regard to a series of gang rapes and murders in which the victims had they're fingers and faces removed to avoid identification."
"Well, I obviously had a lot of growing up to do. Yeah, I fucked those girls when I was a kid. They were real fucking nice, too. But I'm a different man, now. More…sophisticated, you could say."
"As a man or as a criminal?"
He only smirked, leering at her. It made her honestly shiver. She knew that look. This is a man, she thought, who'd fuck me as soon as slit my throat. "You're fucking beautiful, you know that?" he taunted. "Come on, honey. Give me a little something to think about while I'm in here and I might just tell you what I know. I only wanna smell your hair or something. Just lean over, it'll be quick. I don't bite, I promise."
She swallowed and averted her eyes, trying to show limited amounts of vulnerability. His mouth twitched into a smile as he thought he was getting to her. "How exactly did you end up with ZFT?" she continued.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"We both know you do." She pulled some case photos from the file. "These girls were found in a shipping container after they'd been trafficked, prostituted, experimented on and killed by your organisation. Weeks earlier, this girl was found in a warehouse with evidence of experimentation and half her organs missing. And this girl -"
"Did she have hands? Did she have a face? Yes? Then it wasn't me," he taunted coldly, leaning as close to Olivia as he could with his chains on. "As much as I love having you here, honey, you're wasting my time and yours. I don't know shit about this. So unless you wanna crawl under this table and make my day, get the fuck out of here, princess."
That almost made her snap. She leaned forward too, glaring at him. "We know about Conrad," she said coldly.
That made him nervous. "Now where did you here a name like that?"
"One of the other prisoners broke," she lied with her best poker face on.
The notion seemed to fill him with genuine rage. "Bullshit," he growled. "ZFT's soldiers are loyal to the end."
"Apparently not," she taunted.
"Who was it? TELL ME!"
"You're not getting a damn thing until you talk."
He tensed, jaw tight and fists clenched. "It doesn't matter anyway. It doesn't matter that we're in here. It won't even matter if you catch Conrad, which you won't. He's just a part of the army."
"What army?"
"You haven't been doing this for very long, have you? You people don't know anything! Don't you understand who we're up against? Who the two sides are? Tell me you at least know that. The war is coming, and we are the only hope."
"Who's we?"
He stopped himself before he answered, realising he'd already said too much. "You're getting nothing more from me, princess. Not another word," he said snidely. "What was written will come to pass. And nothing you do can stop that. Nothing."
"Then we're done here," she replied coldly, snapping the file shut and heading out. Leaning against the door, she ran a hand over her face. That had been more stressful than she'd expected.
She found Lincoln and Broyles standing tensely together, arguing in hushed tones. They stopped as she approached. Broyles looked disappointed and Lincoln looked furious enough to breathe smoke. She suddenly thought that she must have screwed up in there, but Lincoln read her mind. "Don't worry, Liv. You did well," he said, throwing a glare to Broyles. "We got exactly what we needed."
"Some of the language he used sounded rehearsed to me," she mentioned. "All that stuff about 'the war' and 'the army' – maybe he's referring to a ZFT code, or a prophetic text of some kind?"
"You may be right," Broyles said. "We'll get some agents on that. In the meantime, there's something we need to discuss with you."
She shifted a little, nervous. "OK."
"Before we get into this I want you to know that this wasn't my choice," Lincoln said.
"What is it?" she asked. But she already knew. She looked warily between them. "I passed a test, didn't I?"
Broyles nodded solemnly. "As you know, our male UCs have been able to get us some information, but it's only half the picture. We're running out of options, and up the chain of command they're pushing us to send female agents undercover. This new angle may just be enough to find Conrad or learn what the attack even is. I hate to say it, Dunham, but there aren't many women in Fringe Division, and you would be a logical choice to send. You're capable, hard-working, attractive and young. But I'm reluctant to send you because you're so inexperienced and also because of what happened with Harris last year. I know it's a terrible decision for you to make, but the wolves are at the door. You can say no, Dunham, but frankly this may be our only shot at these people."
"I know," Olivia said, rubbing her temples. "Somebody has to do it. You're right. I'm the logical choice. I'm the youngest woman in Fringe Division and I don't mean to sound proud but I'm damn good at my job, sir. I'm the agent you've raised me to be. I don't want to do this, and it scares me to death, but I'm the best person for it and we all know it."
Lincoln's fists clenched at the very idea but Broyles only nodded. "I wish I could give you some time to consider this, but frankly we don't have it."
"It's fine," she said quickly, glaring back at Esterbrook through the glass. "There are too many bastards like him out there, and if we have a chance to stop the next worst thing since 9/11, then we have to do everything possible. Even this."
"This is fucked up," muttered Lincoln. "I won't let you do this."
"It's not your choice to make, Lincoln. I'm in. If it makes the fucking case, I'm in all the way."
"We can do our best to keep you safe," Broyles said. "You'll probably be trafficked across states, so it'll be a few weeks before any physical harm comes to you. We'll be keeping track of your location at all times and try to organise the male UCs to guide you inside. If anything should go majorly wrong we'll have immediate plans in place to get you out."
"But the longer I stay in there the closer we come to finding Conrad."
"Yes," he admitted. "You need to get some rest. We start your training in the morning. Oh, and Dunham, tell no one about this. Not yet."
She nodded, shocked at herself for what she'd just agreed to. On the way back, Lincoln would barely look at her. "I'm sorry," she said to him, but he was still angry.
When she finally got back home it was late. Peter was already asleep. She sat on the edge of their bed and fought tears as she watched him. She wasn't allowed to tell him yet, but she couldn't imagine what she would say even if she was. The idea of her being held by sex traffickers for a month or two would terrify him. It was already terrifying her.
She got changed and settled into bed with him, getting as close as she could. He woke up and nuzzled his nose with hers. "Welcome home," he whispered, reaching out to her. "Livia, you're shaking."
"It was cold outside," she lied.
"Are you OK?"
She looked up at him, touching his face. "Yeah. I just love you so much."
"I love you, too."
"Show me," she whispered. "Please. I really need you right now."
"Livia, are you sure you're OK?"
"Yeah. This job's just really stressing me out, that's all."
"What's wrong? You can tell me." She shook her head and let him stroke her hair. She hated being vulnerable like this, but all she wanted was for him to hold her and tell her it'd be OK. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes.
"Can you just tell me you love me again?" she whispered. "I really need to hear it."
He touched her face. "You know I do, my love."
"Then please," she begged softly in the dark. "Show me how much. Peter, I need you."
He didn't know what was going on, but he knew he could provide some comfort to her in this way. Bearing his heart to her, he peppered her face with kisses until he captured her lips in a slow but fiercely passionate kiss. She pulled him close as she rolled back to lie against the blankets, him hovering over her. As his body worshipped hers, he made it his mission to love her and salve her heart, emotionally and physically. "I love you," he whispered to her a thousand times over as they made love. "I don't care what happened today. I love you. And I'm not letting you go."
That made her cry. It was too early for him to make that promise. But in that moment, it was all she needed to hear.
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