Again, thanks for all the comments.

This chapter is even less humorous than the last, but it's more about confessions. Mostly Peter's confessions, because he's a lot worse at this game than Olivia.

I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 3

Peter was staring straight ahead, very obviously lost in thought. While Olivia was usually content to let him just think when he wanted to, tonight she was both bored and feeling the need for some sort of human contact. And so, she spoke suddenly, breaking the strange silence that had fallen across the room.

"I'm cold again." It was true- a genuine shiver had just run down her spine, but she equally had an ulterior motive. She hoped that a little physical touching between them would be enough to inspire him to make the first move, and take the complicated decision away from her, for while she was toying with the idea of just reaching up and kissing him, there was still a stern, very bureaucratic voice in the back of her mind that told her that dating, sleeping with or even kissing Peter Bishop was a bad idea that could only lead to more heartbreak she wasn't prepared for.

"What?" he woke up from his trance, but she was already moving towards him, scooting around so her head rested on his chest and she yanked his coat over herself again. Despite his earlier hesitation, he was more daring this time, his left arm snaked completely around her waist, pinning her to him, his hand this time resting against her thigh.

From her new vantage point, she could hear his heart racing in his chest, confirming, in her mind at least, that he was more nervous than he outwardly appeared. They had just avoided kissing yet again, but Peter had an unguarded smile on his face, signalling perhaps that he was still pleased with her for telling him he was a good person. That knowledge made her feel like she had a strange power over him, and so she hazarded the question that had been hovering in the back of her mind for the past hour or more.

"Peter, why did you veto that question?"

"The Rachel one, or the one about the last time I had sex?"

"The second one." She didn't really know why she wanted to know, especially since she had only asked him the question in the first place so that she could figure out whether or not he had slept with Rachel. However it seemed important, somehow in the back of her mind, possibly because she was all too aware he would know the last person she had been in any way intimate with was John, and she didn't like being on an uneven footing with him.

"It's cheating to ask me that" she waited for him to continue, but he fell silent.

"It's been a really long time for me too, you know. I won't laugh" she promised, but he merely shrugged, and it seemed that telling him what a sparklingly good individual he is hadn't earned her nearly enough brownie points for that particular question.

"Fine" she sighed when it became clear he didn't intend to answer, "When was the last time you had the chance to sleep with someone?" it was a stupid question to ask, but she found that now they'd gone this far, asking him about his favourite movie would feel like a waste of time.

"I don't know, Liv. It's not like I keep a diary of it or anything" he was avoiding the question and she knew it, so she pressed harder.

"Okay, do you have feelings for anyone in particular?" she asked, determined to get some sort of real answer from him. She knew all too well that he had feelings for hers- asking this was her only seeking confirmation of what she had long since suspected.

"Olivia…" Peter's tone held a warning, "Don't."

"Don't what?" she argued back and she felt him stiffen against her,

"Don't ask questions when you know you're not going to like the answer." She could see he was as terrified of rejection as she was of intimacy, and so she tried to be as encouraging as possible, smiling openly at him in the face of his rebellion against the question.

"You've already used your veto. Twice, might I add." She pointed out in a playful tone that totally contradicted his entirely tense demeanour.

"I'm just asking you nicer questions" he complained, a hint of the usual Peter resurfacing.

"Just answer" she rolled her eyes, and she felt him sigh, before he finally answered with one word.

"Yes." Although he gave no further details, they both knew there could only be one person he was speaking about. All that remained was for him to ask her who she had feelings for and this dance between them would abruptly, wonderfully end. However Peter said nothing for a long time, and from her position against his chest she heard his heart rate slowly return to a normal pace. When he did eventually speak, his actual question was more hesitant than she had expected.

"Do you think you've really moved on from John now?" she knew he wanted her to say yes, she was ready to try something real with someone else, but she felt that she owed him an honest answer, after everything he had shared with her that night. When she thought about her ex lover, it still hurt, there was no denying that. However the occasions she spent dwelling on losing him were becoming fewer and with farther between. At least now she could see herself with other men without feeling a burning shame. Sometimes one other man in particular.

"Sometimes" she answered finally. "But there's times when the smallest thing will remind me of him and I just feel it all over again." She turned her head to look up at him. He was looking straight ahead, focusing on a damp spot on the wall opposite for no reason other than avoiding her stare. They were closer than ever now, and if he were only to look down at her, she realised, their lips would be inches from touching.

"Peter?"

"Mmm?"

"Look at me," her voice was soft, but it was an unmistakable command, and one which he obeyed.

"Tell me who you have feelings for." She spoke in a whisper because it felt far more intimate that way, and she knew that would make it harder for him to avoid answering. Peter's poker face had long since disappeared, and it was written all over his face that he only had eyes for one woman. However his whisper held an air of defiance as he replied,

"Veto" she could have slapped him then and there. They were so close, and he was terrified of what? That she was making him jump through all these hoops so she could reject him in the most painful way possible?

"No, Peter. I let you change it once, but not this time. Just tell me."

"You already know" he pointed out. That much had been more than obvious for at least a good hour. They were still sitting far too close, and she could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he stared down at her.

"Do I?" she smiled candidly and he sighed.

"You really want me to say it?" she nodded against him and there was another silence before finally, he spoke heavily, "It's you. I have feelings for you, but then I've never really tried to hide that. The real question is how do you feel about me?" she craned her neck upwards, hoping her gentle kisses would show him, but turned his head before she could make contact.

His arm was still, however snugly around her waist and he was showing no signs of releasing her any time soon. He was confusing her, but she supposed that was probably his goal- to make her feel as lost as he felt every time she flirted with him before pretending like he was nothing more than a friend to her.

"How long have you known?" his tone was far from light, but it was obvious they had pretty much passed the point where this conversation could be referred to as a 'game' anymore.

"That you're in love with me?" she asked, and instantly he corrected her,

"I never said that I…"

"Well whatever," she said dismissively, "I don't know. It feels like I've always known you liked me, but I'm sure that's not the case." It wasn't a real answer, but he seemed contented enough with it.

She knew that she could either ask him something else, or they could have a serious conversation about the possibility of a 'them'. She knew what she should do, and what indeed Peter would want to do, but voicing anything felt like too big a risk. She had an enormous respect for him, putting himself out there like that, because despite the little rules they had created, she knew he would never have pushed her as hard for an answer as she had pushed him.

John had died before she'd ever fully opened up to him, and she desperately didn't want to make the same mistake twice. Peter wasn't asking for a profession of love; he just wanted a verbal confirmation that she felt something for him. But yet somehow even that felt too much.

"John would have hated you." It came from out of the blue, but it had only just occurred to her and she felt that for some odd reason she needed to say it. Despite everything, Peter laughed aloud.

"Is that an insult or a compliment?"

"I don't know. Neither." She laughed along with him, "Or maybe it's both." The laughter died away after a few moments, but it took the tension in the room away with it. When she looked up at him now, she no longer felt the terror she had moments before.

"Why wouldn't he have liked me?" Peter asked in a more light-hearted tone than he had used in hours. She was looking up at him, her head still gently on his chest, and she knew with this question she could get away with a meaningless little answer about John not liking anyone smarter than him, but something compelled her to give an entirely more significant reason.

"He would have been jealous."

She watched as Peter swallowed, but he said nothing, obviously having given up on getting anything real from her long ago. Remembering how nice it had felt when his hands had been trailing patterns on her shoulder, the fingers of her right hand started running up and down his upper, left thigh. His entire body stiffened at first, clearly startled, but he didn't move away, and he didn't ask her to stop. She listened as his heart rate increased until it was beating at a ferocious pace. If she were to move her hand a little up, a little right, she guessed his heart might just burst from his chest.

"What are you thinking about right now?" she asked, in a low whisper.

"Kissing you" he admitted, sounding vaguely hoarse, "More than kissing you." His eyes flicked down to meet hers and he looked simultaneously bashful, and very turned on. His dark eyes were focused solely on her lips now, but even now he refused to be the one to make the first move.

"Do it" she mumbled, leaning up towards him. This time, he didn't pull away.

Happy St. Valentine's Day to all Fringe fans!

Reviews are love =]