first i want to apologize to my lovely 4 reviewers for taking so long to publish this next chapter. I had to watch the latest episode of fringe. i think those spoilers i read are squashed and thus i can continue with mutliple stories. However, i wnt to update this one. This is mostly a short filler chapter. i promise next chapter will be bad. in fact it's titled "All hell breaks loose" but in order to get there, you must first come through here. :)
And thank you so very much again my reviewers and fans! you don't know how much it means to me, like seriously, no words can explain it. Oh and PS. Peter made you all virtual cookies.
t for language.
summary: A surprise friend and a surprise visitor.
If i owned fringe i'd have the next episode on tomorrow night.
"You should know I hate buying clothes," Lauren snapped at James for the third time this morning. She didn't know what it was about the boy, but she did not like him. Maybe it was the way his eyes were cold and calculating or the sneer he gave her every time she looked over at him or maybe it was the way he flexed his jaw as if he wanted to just reach over and strangle her. Whatever it was, James scowled down at her.
"Well then, this should be fairly easy," he answered, striding forward into the large enclosed mall. Being a gentleman he held the door open for her and she stepped through, surveying the place. She recognized some stores instantly, while other store names were strange and foreign to her. James brushed past her and strode out in front of her, not waiting.
"Don't I get to pick a store?" Lauren asked as she jogged to catch up with her brother.
"We have an account at Sak's fifth avenue," he said.
"You have an account there," Lauren corrected. James wheeled around to face her.
"You need to give up the idea that you're going home. You're not. You are home here," he hissed angrily, "You're not going to be rescued, you aren't a damsel in distress-"
"You know just as well as I do I was kidnapped," he said, her face inches from his, "Stop trying to make yourself feel better. You can be the richest man in the world, but you still are a criminal."
James jaw flexed and his green eyes flared. He spun around again and strode off toward the store. Lauren trailed behind him, flames licking from her eyes. He found the door and hauled it open, flinging it behind him and pressing his back to the glass. Lauren stopped and looked at him, her eyes reflecting the waves of anger on his body.
"You know what?" she said with a wicked smile, "Maybe I like to buy clothes."
James grunted in response, his teeth grinding together as she walked in front of him, entering the building. She stopped short, James nearly running into her. A salesman stepped forward, his small eyes huge and wide.
"Mr. Bishop," he said, "What can I do for you today? Clothes for the latest fiancé?"
"This is my sister," James answered, his hand shoving her forward at the small of her back, "She needs an entire wardrobe."
The salesman looked over her thin frame carefully. She must have looked like a mess, she wore the same red shirt she wore yesterday, along with a pair of brown cargo pants. Finally the man smiled at her.
"Perfect body," he said, causing Lauren to feel completely exposed, "We'll get you set right away."
"She needs everything," James said gently, "I mean everything."
Lauren blushed and smiled at the man weakly. The man grinned.
"You have no reason to be ashamed!" he said, "You are beautiful!"
And they were off.
Four and a half hours later Lauren was wriggling her way out of a skintight green gown from Dior while standing on sky-high stilettos. James sat just outside her door, his legs crossed just like Peter did with his as he typed away on what she assumed was his phone. She had just shimmied the fabric off her knees when she called over to him to attempt talking.
"What's it like here?"
"Normal."
Lauren twisted her mouth and nibbled her lip before sighing.
"Could you elaborate?" she asked, "I'm not exactly from here."
"Well," James said in a clearly annoyed tone, "I'm sure you're the same over there, we have school and college and jobs and cars-"
"I mean little things," she said, "Like your phone. I've never seen anything like it."
"Phone?" James said. Lauren came out of the dressing room with the green gown folded over her arm. James turned his head, "This is my phone, here. It's called a cuff."
"Then what's that?"
"This is my pad," he said, holding up the flexible material, "You do everything on it. You get one around 1st grade and you take tests and do homework and write on it."
"What about pens and paper?" Lauren asked, leaning against the doorframe.
"Pens? I've heard of them. Never used one in my life."
Lauren nodded. James looked at her and sucked in his bottom lip. He features were relaxed and soft and he looked so much like her father it was uncanny.
"You going to get that?"
"No."
"Okay."
He held out his arm and she handed it to him to stick in the piles of nos. He checked his watch and smiled.
"We should get back. Dinner is in two hours."
"Okay," Lauren answered. She followed James down the stairs of the store and to the main counter where her clothes were strewn in bags behind it. James leaned up against the counter and pulled out a tiny silver card.
"On the tab, please?" he said, passing it over. The saleslady nodded.
"Yes, of course Mr. Bishop. Would you like us to cal the car around?"
"Please."
The woman picked up the phone and called around back as James looked at his pad. He frowned and Lauren frowned as well.
"Trouble?"
"No," he answered, stuffing the pad into his suit's inner pocket.
"Your car is out front Mr. Bishop," the woman said. A man in a suit held Laruen's bags in his hands. "Mr. Adams will help you out."
"Thank you," James said.
"Have a good day, Mr. Bishop."
"You too."
"Have a good day Ms. Bishop," she called as Lauren trailed behind James. Lauren smiled before ducking out the door and into the air of New York. James climbed into the limo and Lauren followed. When the trunk closed the driver started up the limo and merged into the traffic.
"What's your mom like?" Lauren blurted out before she could stop. James' green eyes met hers.
"I imagine a lot like your mom," he answered in the same cryptic manner that Peter held.
"Is she nice?" Lauren tried. He shrugged.
"I guess so," he answered, "She doesn't come around often, unless she wants something. She married someone else. She works a lot, too."
"Does she have any-"
"Other kids, no," James finished. Lauren nodded and looked out the window. She thought of her own mother and how she would never know she had just disappeared. The thought saddened and scared her. Her mother would be alone.
She felt an unsettling in her bones. Her father mysteriously comes to find her and tells her she can never see her mother again. He introduces her to this life as if she wants to stay around. But she doesn't want to stay. Lauren realized that this wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to be with her mother. This man, this lying, cynical, mysterious man was not her father. Who was he? She was pulled from her thoughts by the door to the limo opening as they arrived home.
James and Lauren had just entered the penthouse when they heard angry voices echoing through the house. Lauren looked at James. He had gone white as a sheet. He turned suddenly and nearly sprinted toward his room. Lauren and the bellhop with her bags headed toward her room and toward the angry voices.
"In there, please," said Lauren, pointing to her door. The man nodded and headed down the hall toward her room as Lauren continued the path to the angry sounds.
"You can't be here," she heard Peter's voice growl, "I gave you everything you asked for."
"But she's here," came a voice that sounded very familiar. Not trusting her ears, she inched closer.
"She isn't here!" Peter shouted, "Her-I mean my daughter is here, Dunham-"
Dunham? Surely not her mom's name? Was her mother here? Lauren stopped in front of the large oak doors as the woman spoke.
"And what about our son? Does he not matter-"
"Of course not," Peter hissed angrily, "He is your responsibility. You're his mother. You did this, you and my father. He won't fix anything because you aren't her. I spent 23 years looking for my daughter so I can fix the damage between the universes and you're here messing it all up-"
"You did that all your own," came her cool response. Lauren opened the door just then, absolutely certain that the voice belonged to her mother. But what she saw surprised her.
Peter looked up to meet the eyes of Lauren, his jaw clenched and knuckles white. Between the two of them stood a red haired slender woman. She turned and smiled at Lauren. Lauren did a double take.
"Mom?"
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