Heart in the Right Place

Her head felt a little heavy as she opened her eyes. Judging by the light in the room, it was probably early morning. She stretched out a hand, trying to hang on to that sleep state for a little while longer. A foreign grunt came from somewhere on her bed. It didn't sound threatening or menacing, so her mind dismissed it. Something - someone - snuggled up beside her. She turned and a stole a peek. Peter Bishop's face rested on her pillow.

She moved closer, seeking out the warmth of his body. They were both still fully clothed. She did not remember getting to the bed.

Before she got out from under the covers, she took a moment to look at him again. Ten years had fallen away form his face. The line between his eyebrows was gone, his lips weren't pursed because of some intense negative emotion he had to feel and his eyes were closed, which meant that his alertness was temporarily on hold. There was one thing that remained - the smile lines by his eyes. Smile lines, she imagined, that came from another time in his life, one less riddled with scientific phenomena and terrorists.

She got out of bed, slowly so as not to wake him and went about her morning. She was both relieved and surprised that the night had not progressed any further. It wasn't like her to pass up opportunities. Perhaps age had taught her a thing or two about control and patience.

While the coffee was brewing, she heard the shower go off. Peter was awake.

A few minutes later he strode into her kitchen with a towel wrapped around his middle.

"Good morning, sunshine," he called out.

He smelled of soap and her shampoo. A smile cracked her lips, because she liked him anyway. Of course, the fact that he was shirtless in her kitchen did not hurt either. She turned around and poured herself some coffee.

"Hello."

Her back was to him when he put his arms around her waist, brushed the hair away from her neck and kissed the sensitive skin. There were no further inquiries, no may I's and would it be weird's. Just a simple gesture done because he felt like it. Somewhere in the back of her mind Olivia noted that someday, she would have to talk to him about doing things without her permission. For now, though, she would just enjoy the tickles down her spine. She turned around to face him.

His eyes were an indecipherable color. The morning light washed away some of the blue, but they weren't quite green either. He was looking at her. She leaned in closer, trying to see better, but somewhere along the way she forgot what she had been after and their lips met.

This time, for the first time, he had to stop her with his hands on her shoulders.

"What's wrong?" she asked, perplexed.

He smiled and looked away for a second before turning back to her. "Nothing's wrong."

It took her longer than it should have but eventually it clicked. He was doing a very good job at hiding a blush.

"Oh." It really didn't take her long to decide on the next course of action.

He saw it on her face, as clear as day.

The silence and quiet was not bound to last forever. The Russian, whom they now knew as Vladimir Lugovick, was back in the States. He knew Peter had been looking for him, so the next step would be to make contact with him again.

There was another meeting, same plaza, with only Olivia for cover. The man would have spotted any other agents. They could not let him escape.

Olivia was dressed in business attire, with a trench coat and a pair of sunglasses to shield her eyes from the sun. She fit in well with all the other suit women around her. A book was in her hand - she was engrossed by it.

Her nerve endings were still prickly despite her confidence in Peter' abilities. The lump in her throat, the one she had been carrying since Broyles announced that Lugovick was in town, did not make this any easier.

Something she did not immediately recognize pulled her eyes away from Peter. Without moving her head, she scanned the surrounding park. Nothing unusual. Just to be sure, because the feeling wasn't going away, she scanned the park again.

He really didn't look like much. Just a guy out with his dog. He had a handsome, open face with a fair complexion. His eyes, however, bore holes into Peter's back. His posture didn't sound any alarms, but he was too intent on the two men in the middle of the plaza. There was no mistaking what he was looking at.

So Lugovick had brought one of his own.

Olivia kept focused. She was ready to point, aim and shoot at any moment but she knew it wouldn't come to that. Not this early in the game. This new presence did present a new problem, however. The exit strategy. Any wrong move on her part and the operation would be blown to bits.

The only solution was the one thing she did not feel like doing today. To walk away. The meeting must have been nearing to a close. If she left now, before Peter, there was no reason for anyone to assume anything. The car was far enough away that no one, not even someone who intended to follow would pick up on the link.

She cursed under her breath as she pretended to check her watch. She dashed across the plaza, careful not look like she wasn't trying to interrupt the meeting. She caught a whiff of a familiar scent. It reassured her. She walked on, fighting her instincts to look back. He would be fine. He had to be.

Twenty excruciatingly long minutes later she saw Peter round the corner. A smile was on his lips and there was a light sprint in his walk. Maybe if she hadn't been feeling so rotten about this whole situation she would have smiled back.

"He wants to make a deal with me," he told her as soon as he got into the car. "He bought into our scenario."

Olivia nodded, putting the car in drive.

"Hey," he reached over to her, touching her cheek with his hand. "Everything is going well."

"I know - I'm fine. I'm glad you'll have something to report."

He chuckled. "You're a lousy liar."

"You and I should play poker sometime, then you'll see what kind of a liar I am."

That amused him, but she could sense he was still watching her.

"So when is this deal happening?"

"I have to go to a preliminary meet & greet. Shake hands with his associates, that kind of thing. I gave him the number to the FBI line your people gave me. He said he'd call."

"Associates?"

"Yeah. He's not alone on this. It might be a bigger operation that we originally thought. If we could take down the entire group, even better."

"It also complicates things. It means he has eyes in more places. One of them was in the park today. Blond fellow with a dog."

"Hostile?"

She shook her head. "No, he was just observing. He did not look like a bodyguard."

"I'll keep an eye out for him, at the next meeting."

They passed the rest of the day at the FBI headquarters, giving their reports and talking strategy with the team Broyles had assigned to their case.

Olivia knew of that natural female feeling of wanting to protect that which you care about. She had felt it many times - for her sister, her niece, Charlie. She knew it as this mild, gentle force that made her worry unnecessarily from time to time.

For Peter, it was amplified to ten times its normal size.

Lugovick was taking his time. In a week, Olivia, Peter and the team had exhausted every course of action they could think of. She knew every scenarionthey had discussed by heart. There really was nothing more for them to do at this point.

"So," Charlie rolled his hair over to her desk, "Wanna go for a drink at the Fitz? I'm dying to get out of here."

Actually, there was no reason for them to be in the office today. Agents assigned to undercover cases were expected to keep odd working hours. Olivia nodded, reaching for her things.

A rum and coke landed in front of her the instant she sat at the bar. She thanked the barman with a smile.

"You look happier than I've seen you in ages, Liv." Charlie sat next to her and ordered himself a beer.

"And that's...a bad thing?"

"I'm as content as a clam, you know that. But as your partner and all, I'm a little disappointed in you. You haven't told me what's causing all of this."

Charlie was a smart man. Olivia knew that if this had been about anyone else, it would have taken him an instant to figure out the answers. However, this time he was putting all assumptions aside. He reserved speculations for cases. When it came to his friends, he preferred to find out the truth straight from the horse's mouth. Olivia appreciated that in him.

"It's... I have no idea what it is, actually. I just know that the world has color again."

He frowned. "Forget the what. How about you start with 'who'?"

She imagined the ghost of Peter's touch on her skin. A week had passed but her body still wore the glow his hands had created. She realized that she missed him, even though she had seen him at the office almost every day.

"You're going to think I'm crazy."

"Oh, no." Apparently, the word 'crazy' lit up a lightbulb.

"What?"

"It's Peter Bishop, isn't it?"

Olivia felt a blush spread over her cheeks. She stole a glance in Charlie's direction. He was smiling.

"I think he'll do you some good. He's a little unhinged and I'll admit that the guy gives me the creeps sometimes. Maybe that's why you two are good together. He's different."

"Don't you mean a criminal?"

"No, no," Charlie shook his head, "He's many things, but not that. His heart is in the right place. He's not someone you can profile, Liv. You know you've tried. It's not working because Bishop doesn't follow patterns. He's not susceptible to habits and behaviors like we are. He doesn't play things by ear - he uses the information from his environment to adapt to it. He doesn't take it for granted." He took a sip of his beer.

"You figured all that out from spending a week with him?"

"Well, it was obvious. I also read his psych file."

"And?"

"Sound as a rock. Like I said, heart in the right place."

"Thanks Charlie, I'll keep that in mind."