Intersection

by 'rith

Fandom: Fringe Characters: Alternate Lincoln, Olivia Dunham, Alternate Olivia

Rating: PG-13

Wordcount: ~1,700

Spoilers: "One Night in October", revised (but barely!) for my own nefarious purpose.
Summary: Two Olivias in one place is a lot for Lincoln to cope with.
Notes: Quantum Entanglements 'verse.

"Agent Dunham. We appreciate your help on this," Lincoln says, completely straightforward and professional, when all he wants to do is-something inappropriate. But all their field communications are recorded for later analysis, so he's used to checking himself. No matter what Charlie and Liv might say about his lack of discretion or inability to keep his mouth from running.

The plan was entirely Liv's idea and despite the slightly insane nature of her proposal, it's the best chance they've got of finding the serial killer who's eluded them for years. Lincoln hadn't missed the foxlike grin on Liv's face when she'd talked about bringing in the alternate Fringe Division, either. Pushing the other Olivia's buttons seems to be an endless source of entertainment for her. Or maybe her fascination is more like the inability to keep from picking at a scab, the difference between soft and rough skin a constant irritant wanting to be smoothed away. He remembers the weeks while his burns were still healing, and empathizes. But it's his responsibility to ensure that all contact between divisions runs smoothly on this side.

He figures Olivia is owed that, at least.

The op goes as designed, at first. Olivia brings John McClennan, non-serial killer version, over from her side and Lincoln ends up monitoring the situation alongside her in the car while Liv watches the professor gather a sense of his unsuspected alternate's life. He's good, a natural profiler, although Lincoln can't help but wonder if subconscious clues are guiding McClennan's observations. On some level, there have to be familiar associations. The assisting Fringe agents did their best to remove all identifying markers, but Lincoln remains on edge, waiting for the penny to drop.

The silence in the car is palpable. He can't think of anything to say that wouldn't get him called up on harassment charges, and Olivia is clearly stressed about being back in this world and listening to Liv do her job. It's not the way he would have chosen to meet her again and after her quick denial that she doesn't mind waiting when she clearly does, he decides that discretion is the better part of valor.

When the jig is up Olivia bolts out of the car, exactly like Liv would no matter how much she protests that they're not at all the same. Then it's Liv's turn to wait outside with him while Olivia explains the situation to McClennan who is, frankly, taking the whole revelation of an alternate universe much better than Lincoln could have expected. He wonders how his own alternate is doing, newly inducted into a secret division and presented with the knowledge that his world isn't as singular, or as safe, as he might have believed.

The discovery of another victim and McClennan's flight kicks the whole investigation into overdrive. Olivia finds a clue that leads to what looks like an abandoned farm, but it turns out to be the right place and they track the perp into a storm cellar. Working with Olivia is exactly like working with Liv, except in all the ways it's not: Olivia is quieter (even without the tension in regard to Liv), more watchful. She finds her clues in the silences in between, where Liv drags them out into the open through sheer force of will.

In the end Ms. Miller is saved, the serial killer is dead (and Lincoln really would have preferred that he not blow his own head off in front of Olivia, but she seems to be taking the incident in stride), case closed. Olivia goes back to her world, along with the professor who Lincoln hopes hasn't been transformed into a monster to mirror his other self. She shook Lincoln's hand again when she left, a gesture perfectly in keeping with professional interagency interdimensional cooperation, but he can't ignore the way Olivia's palm lingered briefly in his or the slight squeeze she gave his fingers as they parted.

The touch reminds him that the last few weeks have been...odd. Part of it, the most shallow part, is his sudden lack of company at night; Liv is appropriately spending all her free time with her fianc Frank, and Charlie took Lincoln's advice to "give it a try" with Mona so much to heart that a whirlwind courtship and a "yo, meet me at the courthouse, best man!" later, Charlie and Mrs. Bug Lady Francis are chilling on a beach, newly married, snug as two...

He can't even say it.

He'd resolved to let Charlie and Liv go with all his blessings and he has, truly wishing them well. But... but. It's been a long time since Lincoln had to think about his extracurricular activities and somehow, the thought of dropping in at the local bar for some casual company doesn't seem as appealing a prospect as it used to. (Regardless of the certain outcome. Not just for his looks-now that he's seen his alternate, Lincoln can judge objectively-but thanks to the allure of his Fringe badge.)

So maybe it's more than a shallow fixation. Seeing his partners both working on building their lives makes him think that for all his smug excuses (Charlie, of course, had that nailed), it's possible that Lincoln has forgotten how to construct a relationship outside the defining limits of Fringe Division.

Which is just...sad. And the justification that it's not the time, considering current circumstances, doesn't play either. But he's also left with the fact that attempting a relationship with a woman from an alternate universe is a poor idea by any yardstick. Sooner or later, that door *is* going to close.

His thoughts are interrupted when Liv appears in his office. "Hey. Meant to give you something."

She reaches out a hand and he takes it, feeling something small and metallic in her palm, passing to his. Glancing down, he sees it's his apartment key.

Liv shrugs a little. "Figured that since I wasn't going to be...stopping by anymore..."

"Keep it." Lincoln presses the key back into her hand. "Still partners, remember? Never know when you might want a- a safe house."

"Yeah, okay." The fact that she doesn't argue is a little unnerving. "So- that went well, right? Considering."

"Lucky Olivia spotted those numbers," he says without thinking, and winces. So much for checking himself.

Liv just smirks. "Yeah, she's a dream. A real pleasure to work with. You two got along okay, though."

If she's spoiling for a fight, that's fine, but he'd rather have it without any pretext. "Something you want to say?"

She glares at him, her expression bitter mixed with...he can't tell. Anger? Hurt? "Turns out any Olivia will do, huh."

He matches her gaze, remembering all they've shared. "I think you'd know better than anyone how much that isn't true."

Her face goes a little red, acknowledging the verbal hit. "It's still tacky. Like- like we broke up and now you're dating my twin sister."

And okay, that's probably fair. "We're not 'dating,' there's nothing going on."

"Sure," Liv says, in that tone that means "not buying it." He usually only hears it directed toward suspects and it's disconcerting to be on the receiving end. "Whatever you say. But Lincoln..." she stares at him, her whole demeanor shifting, honest concern written on her face. "Be careful, okay. I don't- I don't want you to get hurt."

"I love you, too," he says, because he does and always will, and it's safe to say now.

Liv leans against his desk and smiles weakly. "Yeah. Frank's out on a call, you want to grab a pizza?"

They do, like friends, and they're even laughing together by the end of the pie. When they part for the night Liv kisses his cheek, apology and affection in one gesture. Lincoln's dreams that night are full of Olivias, red-haired and blonde, but it turns out even his subconscious can tell the difference; when Lincoln wakes, he's thinking of solemn hazel eyes and a quiet smile.

If that's not a whack from a cosmic cluebat, nothing is.

CODA: Over Here

"It's great that you got the guy, but I want to hear about what happened with *him.*" It turns out that given the whiff of a potential romance, Astrid is as tenacious as a hunting hound on a scent.

"We were tracking a serial killer! There wasn't time for...anything," Olivia protests.

"But you were friendly, right? Didn't shut him down cold?"

Olivia remembers the touch of Lincoln's hand, at the end. "No."

"Well, that's something." Astrid nods, apparently satisfied.

Turnabout is fair play. "So, what about him?" Olivia gestures to the other side of the lab, where Lee is still pouring over files, just like when she'd left. "Any progress?"

Astrid shakes her head, revealing nothing. "He's just lost his partner and is still mourning. He needs time."

She can't resist. "But you're friendly, right? Not shutting him down cold?"

Astrid laughs, and Lee glances over at the two of them, clearly curious but not wanting to intrude. "No."

"Well," Olivia mimics, "that's something."

They smile at each other and it's nice, Olivia thinks, to have someone to talk about this with. Even if she doesn't know what "this" is.

There honestly hadn't been time during the case, and she hadn't had the inclination to broach the subject-even if she knew how to start-with Liv right there, looking on. And she'd wanted to get Professor McClennan back to this side as soon as possible. It was a valid excuse, but no less of one for that.

Lincoln had been entirely professional, reliable and perceptive in the field. But she'd seen him watching her out of the corner of his eye in the car, and she was keenly aware of his concern for her after the other McClennan killed himself.

Astrid's right. There's definitely something between her and Lincoln Lee, and Olivia is running out of reasons not to explore the possibility. The most obvious one, the different-universes factor, still looms large, but that's- it's almost starting to seem irrelevant, after a case like McClennan's. If the two worlds remain linked, Olivia can see the potential for far more collaboration, and many good opportunities to see him again. If they don't...

She'll never forgive herself for not taking a chance while she can.

{end}

Next: Finally.