A/N: And suddenly, I'm updating XD I guess as long as Anna Torv shall live, I shall be consumed with lust and write O² on occasion :p Thank you to everyone who read this story, reviewed it and asked for more! Let's keep on proudly enjoying this crack!ship XD

Obviously, this is a follow up to the 3 previous parts I posted back in October. I don't think it's necessary for you to remember all of them though (because really, I don't want to force you to reread O² sex or anything). Just remember that, yes, they did have ze sex, and when they parted ways, Liv decided she should basically ignore Olivia the next time they met to see how she'd react.

The way this starts might trouble you, but I assure you it is definitely O². DEFINITELY. Trust me okay? I love to experiment. Totally blaming the ovaries. Also, this fic is still M rated. Just sayin'

MIRROR, MIRROR ON THE WALL

PART FOUR

The warmth was everywhere.

It surrounded her. Enveloped her. Invaded her so mercilessly that it had to be coming out of her pores, now, adding power to that heat in which she was already trapped. Except that she did not have pores, not exactly. She had no skin, no flesh, no bones; not here, not in this suspended space, in this timeless moment.

Olivia was bodiless.

She was bodiless, and yet, the sensations were definitely there, both real and ethereal, and she could do nothing but feel. Her mind was at peace, here; there was no worries, no question, no thought at all.

She was dreaming of him.

She was dreaming of him, and for the time being, she was oblivious to the fact that it was all it was. A dream. For the time being, she was his, entirely, unequivocally, responding to his ghostly touch so strongly that it was almost eerie; it was as if he had marked her, in another life maybe, in such ways that even in this intangible place, something in her recognized him, craved for him.

He was neither here nor there, this beautiful phantom of hers, and yet, she felt him wholly.

Whenever she focused on the feel of him, what had been impalpable an instant before suddenly gained substance. She felt his heated skin hovering hers. He was the warmth enveloping her, and the way he moved upon her was responsible for the liquefaction of her every cell.

Olivia…

Her own name caressed her ear in a soft, echoing murmur, as his hands caressed her skin, and the warmth pooled deeper for a moment, before it spread once more, everything losing substance again; flesh turned into cotton, and the blue of his eyes dispersed, tinting the bright light surrounding her. And she did not mind waiting for that instant when she would feel him under her palms again, content to simply keep on drifting away soundlessly into the mist…

…until the mist evaporated suddenly, and all of that heat found itself trapped beneath her skin again.

A new set of hands was traveling over her curves, in a way that felt anything but ghostly. This…this was not the echo of a memory she had once lived, somewhere, somehow. This was new, recent, authentic, engraved in a part of her brain that had always been so incredibly gifted at remembering every single detail.

Numbers or sensations, it made no distinction, keeping everything. It was there for her to take, and right now, she was taking it all, giving substance to the body slithering over hers, as well as to the mattress beneath her. Unable to keep still under this myriad of new signals overwhelming her nerves, she was rippling under that warm body, soft linen rubbing against her skin, toes clenching the sheet untangled between her feet. A very specific scent, musky, sweet, feminine, was the next thing to come, along with the silky feeling of hair brushing her chest, eliciting instant recognition from her entire being. Next thing she knew, her hardened nipple was being entrapped between two wet lips, then torturously teased by one expert tongue.

Olivia's body arched, and she moaned without restrain.

Olivia…

The name that now resonated in her head and against her shivering skin wasn't simply a quiet call anymore; it was an answer, an identity, a reality.

But when she opened her eyes, her head still thrown back from that delicious rush that had just coursed her body, her gaze was recaptured by a familiar color.

Blue.

He was back, every trait of his face more distinct than they had ever been before, even though she was staring at him upside down. She instinctively unclenched her fists, letting go of the linen beneath her and raising her hands. She reached out for him, until her fingers were touching him, feeling him, and her heart bled within her chest. His name was still a mystery, and yet, she could almost taste it on her tongue; she used to know it, know him.

She pulled his face down to her without hesitation, craving for the taste of his lips if she couldn't get his name; she pulled him hard into a lopsided kiss, with so much force that their teeth clashed and she did not care, her nails digging hard into his neck and scalp as she fed on his tongue. She was extremely well aware of the fact that another tongue was still at work, as the scorching mouth on her chest hadn't gone anywhere, claiming her attention with its raw keenness.

Somehow, the kisses it was scattering on her skin as it travelled downwards, down down down over the heated pool of her stomach and then beyond, still felt more real than the lips she was feasting on. And when that tongue attacked her most sensitive spot right where her legs met, she became possessed; one of her hands instantly fell from the man's nape to sink into the flames, clenching that vibrant hair into a death grip as if her life depended on it, and she rippled and arched once more, her moans swallowed by her ghost's lips.

The warmth was absolute and ruthless, too overpowering, shattering every ounce of perception she ever had in that dreamscape, bringing her higher, higher, higher, until-

Olivia's phone biped loudly on her nightstand, vibrating just as annoyingly, and it successfully and abruptly put an end to her dream.

For a few very confused seconds, she simply lay there, her body tensed and immobile, if not for the unsteady rises and falls of her chest as she tried to catch her breath, her mind still entangled in what was left of her dream. As she started to move a moment later, she realized that her mind wasn't the only thing entangled, her legs imprisoned in the sheets in the weirdest ways. The excessive sensitivity of her skin reminded her all too well that it had all felt way too real, leaving her successfully worked up and unsatisfied.

Again.

The fact that she had been dreaming of her mysterious man wasn't anything new in itself; ever since the creation of the Bridge, he had been invading her mind more times than she could count. What was quite disturbing however was the way it had gone from fairly innocent visions to full blown fantasies. It did not take a genius to understand what had triggered the change, or what her subconscious was telling her rather loudly, especially when it invited someone else to the party.

Nearly a month had passed since her last trip Over There and that night of…insanity with her Alternate.

She had of course done everything she could to make herself forget it had ever happened, but no matter how hard she tried, when her mind was the most vulnerable at night, she couldn't keep the red haired woman from finding her…and the worst part of it all was that Olivia very rarely protested when it happened, her body aching for what she had savored a few weeks ago.

And as if she were punishing herself for that yearning she shouldn't be having, these dreams systematically stopped before she could find any relief whatsoever. Some might have taken care of that problem on their own –she was a grown woman, after all, she knew how these things worked; it would be so easy to give in, in the secrecy of her shower where she always ended up after such dreams for example, to let her hands do what others, perfectly alike, had done so skillfully, having ignited a fire within her that still refused to burn out. Instead, it only seemed to be gaining power with every passing day and every restless night.

But that was exactly why Olivia never caved. She refused to let this warped desire gets the best of her, ever again.

Needless to say, she was becoming rather tense.

Finally remembering what had stopped her dream from unfolding so nicely in the first place, she grabbed her phone, and wasn't surprised to find a text message from Broyles.

'Please call ASAP. New development on the Ederson case.'

Sighing heavily, she immediately dialed his number, even though she knew it couldn't be another murder or he would have called himself. As she waited for him to pick up, she absent-mindedly ran a hand over the sweaty skin of her forehead, now longing for that shower. Among other things.

Broyles went straight to the point without even a hello.

"As you know, the files provided to us from the Other Side are still being processed to this day. As it turned out, we've just found out that they had a similar case less than two years ago."

"Does that mean we need to go Over There again?" she asked as professionally as she could, even though she felt anything but professional right now. The idea of taking a trip there was less than appealing at the moment, and it wasn't the four hours' drive to New York that was putting her off.

"That won't be necessary. I talked to my counterpart, and since we helped them out last month, he agreed to send the Agent who worked on the case our way."

"Who worked on the case?" Olivia asked, grimacing, the heel of hand now pressed hard against her eye; she was really hoping he would utter Lincoln Lee's name, but she already knew what his answer would be.

"Your Alternate," Broyles did reply, flatly. He had been aware from the very beginning of this 'collaboration' that the Dunhams had a very complex and difficult relationship, knowing how it had all started –Olivia's life being stolen by the other woman, among other things. However, he had obviously not been informed of the latest developments between the two of them. "Look, I know how you feel about working with her, but her insight might help you break the case."

"It's…fine," Olivia lied through her teeth, trying to ignore the fact that her heart was already beating faster at the simple thought that she would have to face her soon, causing her to feel the strangest mix of trepidation and some unmistakable anticipation. "I can deal with her for a day."

There was pause, then. It was a short one, but it was definitely there. "Actually, it has already been arranged that she will be staying for the duration of the case, as long as it might take."

Olivia reopened her eyes, hand falling back on the mattress. "I thought we were on a low budget," she said, sounding more like a grumpy child than a FBI agent now. "Lincoln and I are handling this, sir. I appreciate their help, but we don't need one of their agents to-"

"Olivia," Broyles reprimanded her, almost sternly. "Your Alternate solved that case. She has information you undoubtedly need. If you two work together, it might only take a couple of days. And since you're worrying so much about our budget, you'll be glad to learn that you're going to let her stay at your place while she's here. If people ask, you can always say she's your twin sister, it might prevent them from asking too many questions."

Twin sisters.

Even though the dream had mostly faded away, the way dreams always do in the light of day, too much of it remained in Olivia's mind, and her body was still displaying obvious and almost painful signs of its successful build up and unsatisfying conclusion. Whatever they were or had become, twin sisters couldn't be farther away from it.

She found herself hoping that the other woman involved wouldn't make this harder than it already promised to be.

O²O²O²O²O²O²

As it turned out, Liv made things unexpectedly easy.

Trying to get on her nerves actually seemed to be the farthest thing on her mind. In order for Liv to give Olivia any inappropriate look at all, she would have had to look at her in the first place, something she seemed decided on not doing much anymore. It wasn't that she looked uncomfortable in any way about being around Olivia, or was feeling somewhat uneasy about what had happened between them on their last encounter, maybe –again, this kind of awkwardness simply seemed completely alien to Liv. Her behavior was much worse. To Olivia, it very much looked like her Alternate had now decided to fiercely ignore her. And she should have been glad about this, relieved, even.

Unfortunately, Olivia was not. At all.

Liv had entered the lab in the early hours of the day, swaging her way in like she owned the place; Olivia had been standing as straight as can be at one of the tables, shirt and jacket buttoned all the way up, with her hair trapped in a tight bun. When she had gotten dressed after Broyles' call, she had told herself that the sterner she looked, the less likely her double would be to eye her like she had done so many times in the past, or to make any witty comment.

Mostly, she had just wanted to conceal every inch of her body under layers and layers of tight clothes, hoping that it would put an end to the constant boiling of her cells, fearing that only one look at her would be enough for Liv to know just how successful she had been at not forgetting that night.

But when the moment came and Liv made her apparition, swooping in like a blazing angel, she merely glanced at Olivia, nodding her head politely, almost indifferently. She went straight for Lincoln, then, flashing him a bright grin and offering him a cheerful hello that had him stuttering embarrassingly within seconds, not to mention the way he started readjusting his glasses. Repeatedly. This gesture became almost a twitch as the day went by, Special Agent Olivia Dunham having apparently decided that she should invade his personal space any chance she got, all the while pretending that the other, more disgruntled Olivia Dunham wasn't even in the room, unless their research forced them to interact verbally.

On top of flirting with Lincoln obnoxiously –there really was no other word for what she was doing, Liv also seemed decided to get into Walter's good graces, despite the fact that the old man managed to seem even less pleased than Olivia by the attitude of the red haired woman.

If their day of work had been packed with action and thrilling leads, maybe she wouldn't have felt so bothered by all of this. Regrettably, FBI work wasn't always all about car chases and gun fires like the movies depicted it to be; research and paperwork were a big part of it, and as they had to compare both their cases and try to find a break through, they spent most of the day trapped in the lab, going over piles of documents.

Olivia tried to imitate her Alternate's behavior. After all, she had told her the previous month in that hotel room that they should act as if nothing had ever happened. She simply never expected Liv to be such a good actress. In retrospect, she shouldn't be so shocked; Liv had proven in the past that she could pretend all right. But for reasons she could not explain, Olivia was beyond annoyed as she watched the other woman tease Walter with her smiles and some sweets, or observed how she laughed at Lincoln's dumb jokes.

As the day grew darker, however, so did everyone's mood. Olivia had secluded herself in her office a long time ago, but she could hear Walter's remarks getting nastier and nastier. In turn, Liv's frequent laughter started to fade away, and by the time a migraine was starting to settle in the back of Olivia's head, letting her know that she was more than ready to go home, it was clear that the whole team was glad to see this day end.

The drive back to Olivia's place was long and silent, the kind of silence that was anything but comfortable. Every time she dared a glance sideways, Liv was stubbornly looking out the window, face turned away. Having absolutely no idea what she could say, and not remotely in the mood to try anyway, Olivia finally accepted the fact that this forced 'collaboration' was going to be hell, and that she'd just have to go with it.

The only words they exchanged that evening were spoken upon arriving at her apartment.

"I would give you a tour of the place, but I'm sure you remember where everything is."

Olivia was tired, achy, (needy) and moody, and judging by the unamused look this remark earned her, so was Liv.

"Yeah, that would have surprised me if you had spontaneously decided to redecorate everything and made this place nicer."

"You're sleeping on the couch. You remember where the sheets are, too, don't you?"

"Sure, next to your stash of whiskey. I'll help myself."

"I'm sure you will."

And that was about it.

O²O²O²O²O²O²

Olivia couldn't sleep. Not that it surprised her in the least.

Even though the day had been essentially eventless, she was now feelings both aggravated and more than a little mortified.

It was embarrassing, to know that she had just spent the last few weeks of her life having all these unorthodox thoughts about someone who had apparently managed to successfully move on. And why wouldn't she move on? Olivia had known right away, that night in her hotel room, that she was nothing more than a challenge to Liv; the woman was a daredevil and a thrill-seeker.

Olivia had been this unattainable pray -even though in retrospect, she had become attainable ridiculously easily.

And it was all so ironic and predictable. Olivia had been foolishly worrying about having to deal with her Alternate's perseverance , trying to persuade herself that she wouldn't give in, not ever again; as it turned out, she was now obsessing over the fact that she wasn't being pursued at all.

Tossing and turning in a bed that had witnessed too many of her fantasies lately while the object of her inner battles was herself resting in the adjacent room was not helping in the least.

Olivia had retreated in her bedroom as soon as she was done showering, leaving the French doors slightly ajar, with the sole purpose of keeping an ear on whatever Liv was doing in her place. That's how she knew she had showered herself –obviously remembering where everything was indeed. The annoyed opening and closing of her cupboards and fridge also meant she had tried to find some edible food. She had settled down eventually, and everything had been quiet for a few hours, now. Olivia couldn't know for certain that Liv was asleep, but if she weren't, she would have been moving around, the woman unable to stay still.

Her eyes kept going back to her alarm clock, watching the numbers slowly change, minutes after minutes, hours after hours. It was nearing 2am when the strangest sound pierced the complete silence that had taken over her whole apartment.

It was the sound of a loud, raspy and almost panicked intake of air, instantly followed by even louder and definitely ragged breathing.

Olivia had tensed up in the middle of her bed, now solely focused on these sounds; it seemed obvious that Liv had just awoken abruptly from what had to be a bad dream. To say that she was concerned would be a bit of an exaggeration, but she was most definitely intrigued, now.

Liv seemed to get a grip on herself rather quickly, though, as silence fell back surprisingly fast; either that, or she was doing a very good job at masking her distress. And indeed, less than two minutes had passed when more noises reached Olivia's room, Liv moving around the kitchen again apparently, and soon, a very faint light came through the gap between her doors.

Olivia knew she should let her be. She knew that if Liv was nearly as affected as she had been a month ago, she certainly wouldn't want to be seen by anyone, least of all the person she had been ignoring all day. That's exactly why Olivia kicked her covers away and slipped out of the room nearly thirty seconds later.

Liv was still in the kitchen, standing there at the counter in her light PJs, her hair a dark mass over her back in the dim light of the room. Judging by what Olivia could see, she had indeed remembered where to find her stash of whiskey.

She stared at her Alternate's back, frowning in puzzlement more than anything else. Obviously, she knew that despite her claims about hating alcohol, Liv could drink and get drunk just like anyone else, but she also knew that it was somewhat of an extreme measure in her case.

"What are you doing?" Olivia asked her, maybe more coldly than she intended to, but she couldn't exactly help it, still not over the way she had disregarded her all day.

Liv finished pouring her drink, putting the bottle back down on the counter with a clang!, not even bothering turning around to look at her as she answered with her own question. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Even though her tone was definitely matching hers in annoyance, there also was an odd quality to her voice, something Olivia recognized immediately, but she wanted to discard the thought right away, as it was almost preposterous. Nonetheless, she found herself walking further into the kitchen to try and get a better look at her.

Sensing her approaching more than seeing her, Liv brought a swift hand to her face, in an unmistakable swiping gesture.

"Are you…crying?" Olivia was genuinely shocked. The question was pointless, as it was more than obvious that she was, and undoubtedly had been ever since she had woken up.

Maybe she shouldn't be so surprised; after all, Liv had admitted last month having cried prior to getting so ridiculously drunk. But hearing about it and seeing some traces of tears that had long dried was very different from actually witnessing it.

Liv's reply was nothing but a humorless chuckle as she brought the glass to her lips; she took a long gulp of it, grimacing in blunt disgust as the liquid went down her throat, her wet cheeks glistening in the soft light she had turned on over the counter.

When her face relaxed again, or at least a little, she spoke again, keeping her eyes closed, and her voice was undeniably icy this time when she said: "Just fuck off."

To say that Olivia did not take it well would be an understatement.

What little unease and unavoidable empathy she had felt toward her Alternate's distress instantly shattered, dissolved away by the acid now burning the base of her throat as indignation took over her. She had known that confronting her when she was in such a vulnerable and uncharacteristically exposed state wouldn't be wise, at all. Dunham women didn't like being caught in moments of weakness, and they knew how to bite.

Understanding where that remark had come from didn't excuse it in the least, however, and that was why Olivia walked closer to the counter, almost daring Liv to look at her, her arms now tightly crossed in front of her chest in a defensive and irate stance.

"Are you kidding me?" she said, not even trying to hide her aggravation. "Are you seriously telling me to fuck off from my own kitchen?"

Liv made another face then, looking as if she was very bored with her, and when she finally reopened her eyes to meet her gaze, she offered her a tired, fed up look. "Of course not," she said softly, and she would almost have sounded sincere if her tone of voice hadn't also been absolutely disdainful. "I wouldn't dare offend you in such way, not in your own kitchen. Your kitchen, your rules."

As it was to be expected, Olivia's anger went up a notch. She held her gaze with furious intensity, now standing face to face as they scowled at each other.

"You really got some nerves," Olivia glowered at her. "So you've really decided you should act like a bitch for the entire duration of the case, haven't you?"

This earned her another grim chuckle; Liv shook her head almost mockingly, briefly biting down her lip, and with her next look, she seemed to be gauging her with derision, a nasty, knowing smile on her lisps. "If I didn't know better, I would say you're upset because I didn't pay enough attention to you today. Which would be unsurprisingly hypocritical of you, knowing how you were the one who insisted so much on the fact that we should act like 'nothing ever happened'."

Olivia was pretty sure she was grimacing very unattractively now, but she didn't care much; once again, her Alternate had managed to piss her off beyond belief. The fact that her entire body was reacting to their verbal joust was even more infuriating. She chose to ignore the fast drum of her heart, though, as well as the fast heating blood in her veins.

"This has nothing to do with me," she replied with contempt. "It has become clear that you're trying to make your way through my entire team. Judging by the way you behaved today, you surely would have preferred to be at Lincoln's right now, so you could play drunk with him, too, and add him to your list."

Liv's entire body became very stiff, and what little color had been on her face just disappeared. She looked almost detached as she slowly put her glass down on the counter. She never took her eyes away from hers, though. "So, calling me a bitch isn't nearly enough, uh?" She said, her voice so cold now that it could have drained all warmth from Olivia's bones. Almost. "Now you're calling me a whore?"

Olivia shrugged slowly, smiling a very unattractive smirk. "I'm just looking at the evidence. You've said it yourself, you don't really care about what others see as, and I quote, 'morally wrong'."

It happened very fast.

Liv moved, walking forward and literally swooping on her. Only pure instinct made Olivia back away, reacting to the murderous glare in her Alternate's eyes. That's how she found herself having backed off so much and so fast that her back hit the door of her fridge with enough force to make the whole thing shake behind her. A split second later, Liv's palm was slamming the cold metal, very close to her head, nothing but an inch separating both their bodies and faces, now.

Olivia had momentarily forgotten how to breathe, trapped once more between her body and a door, between warmth and cold, her heart beating so fast and pounding so frantically that she could feel it pulse in the tip of her fingers as well as deep within. She was trapped, trapped in that darkened shade of green, trapped in eyes with reddened rims and wet eyelashes, and these uneven breaths of air that scorched her lips at rapid speed.

"I'm fucking tired of your self-righteousness," Liv almost growled in a low whisper, her second hand coming up to rest just as firmly on the fridge on the other side of Olivia's head. "You and I both know you're not exactly as white as snow, here."

White as snow, Olivia was certainly not. Nor would she want to be at that instant, the last few weeks of bottled up frustration emerging incredibly fast as she felt her body so close to hers and yet refused to yield so hastily. And just like she had imagined, she knew Liv could now read it all on her face, see it all in her eyes.

She could see how raw and eager she had left her, how much she hated her for it, how much she craved for more.

Once again, they seemed to mirror each other perfectly.

TBC...

A/N: Oh, did I forget to mention that this was only HALF of it? XD I know, I'm an awful tease. But hopefully, this will be worth it. Give me a couple of days and I shall be posting the rest, with its smuttiness and everything...I hope. Until then, reviews are more than welcomed :)