Olivia sighed as she rubbed her wrist and once again tried to take up the pen to write. On the desk lay the three bills she had to pay: the gas and electric, the rent, and home phone. Her counterpart probably had online accounts to pay these, but not knowing the passwords, Olivia was forced to pay with the paper stubs.
She looked at the ink pen she held in her right hand. It had been years, decades really, since she had had to use one of these, and her handwriting naturally was atrocious. She knew the signature wasn't important – just from studying the case files on Walter, Peter, and her counterpart she knew that a few haphazard looped lines sufficed as identification – but she had to write legibly or the bills wouldn't be processed. And the last thing she needed was attracting attention from the others by her power being cut off or losing her apartment because the bills weren't paid.
She opened one of the drawers and managed to find her counterpart's address book. Scanning the writing, she forced herself to carefully copy the letters and thus get through the tedious task.
As she worked, she sliced another thin wafer of the Manchego cheese she'd bought from Cardullo's and laid it on a cracker. Olivia wasn't particularly impressed with it, but the fact that it was a sheep's milk cheese made it irresistible to her while shopping. After all, if she had to endure this mission and the constant threat of being caught, she might as well find something to enjoy about it.
There was a loud thud, then swearing on the other side of the wall. Olivia shut her eyes and put down her snack, thinking again of why those men were in the apartment with her.
"Don't think about it. Just don't think about it," Olivia whispered to herself. She had no reason to feel guilty. The deaf man was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And it would have jeopardized her mission and put many others in danger had she let him live. She ultimately had no choice.
She would keep telling herself that as long as she needed to. No matter how long it took.
"Ms. Dunham!" a polite voice called from outside the bedroom. Sighing, Olivia left the desk and opened the door.
The leader of the cleaning crew, a short, tubby man with vibrantly yellow hair, smiled gently at her. "We're almost finished in the bathroom, Ms. Dunham. The body has been reduced and the parts taken away, and the blood has been removed. My crew is just getting the shop vac from the van to dry the rugs and the floor."
The man spoke as pleasantly as if this were any small everyday nuisance that he might encounter; Olivia couldn't help but find it disconcerting. Nevertheless she knew it was necessary to be as polite as possible to the man. She returned his smile. "Thank you. I appreciate your help on such short notice." When the man remained where he stood, she asked, "Is there something else?"
"Yes, actually. My team and I require payment for our services. I'm not sure if Mr. Newton mentioned our price…"
"Oh yes, of course, I'm sorry. Mr. Newton didn't tell me how much it would cost, but I have my checkbook right here-"
"We don't want monetary compensation, Agent Dunham," the man interrupted. "There is a specific item we would like, and unfortunately, no one can access it but you. If you would be so kind as to retrieve it for us, we would be grateful, and your debt would be paid in full."
Olivia sighed. "Where is the item, exactly?"
"Illinois. In a little town called Mahomet. We would like to have the item within the next few days, if possible."
"Illinois? How exactly am I supposed to go there when-"
Olivia complaint was cut short by a knock at the door. Frowning, she sidestepped the rotund man and opened the front door, expecting it was the cleaning crew bringing in the shop vac.
"Peter!" Olivia exclaimed, a little too loudly.
"Hey," the Secretary's son greeted her. "I know it's early in the morning, but you've always been an early bird, and I wanted to see you were up for…breakfast." Peter lagged on the last word as he watched two uniformed men walk into Olivia's apartment with a wet/dry vacuum and cleaning cloths.
Olivia thought quickly. "Really bad sewage back up in my bathroom over the weekend," she told him. "I woke up and it was just a mess. Maintenance has been here for a while, cleaning it up."
Just then, the blonde haired man stepped up to Olivia. "We're almost done here, Miss. Probably another half-hour. I left a summary of the work on your kitchen counter. You'll want to take a look at it." The man gave her a pointed look as he left the apartment.
Olivia turned to Peter with a remorseful look. "Sorry, but it looks like this morning isn't good for me. Can I call you later?"
"Yeah, sure," Peter told her. "Whenever you have time."
After Peter left, Olivia took up the "work order" and reviewed it. The large man had been precise in what he wanted; he gave the address and an exact time and date when Olivia needed to be there to retrieve the item. There would be someone there to collect the item from her once she had accessed it.
Once the cleaning crew had finally finished removing any traces of the man Joe and had left, Olivia immediately called Newton.
"What the hell did you set me up for?" she barked at the shapeshifter. "You assured me that the crew you were sending over were on our side."
"No, I said they were associates of ours," Newton corrected her in his calm, condescending way that Olivia loathed. "But they're from this side. They get us things when we need, provide services when we need. It is a very small favor that they require."
"If it's so small, why don't you do it then?" Olivia argued. "You were the one who screwed up, hiring that crew to steal the box." A frightening though flew through her mind. "How can I even know that the crew you sent today to clean up the mess won't screw that up too?"
"You're a stranger in a strange land, Agent Dunham. And in such a case, you must learn to trust those who know more than you." He sighed deeply into the phone, as if he were speaking to a child. Olivia had a desperate urge to beat him until he was nothing but a pile of mercury.
"Fine. But again I have to ask: why do I need to retrieve the payment?"
"Because only someone from our universe can access the building; someone…fully organic. That means it's either you…or Peter Bishop. And I don't really see you being able to convince him to do that."
"Well, how you do suggest I get there? The Fringe division will probably notice when their primary investigator goes missing."
Newton chuckled. "Well, you are also our fearless leader, Agent Dunham. You'll find a way." Before Olivia could respond, he hung up.
Frustrated, Olivia returned to her counterpart's bedroom and began to seal and stamp the bills she needed to mail. Her hand passed over the brown leather address book she'd been using earlier, compelling her to look inside.
There, on the first page, was a new entry for Rachel and Ella Blake, Chicago, IL.
"No," Olivia actually said out loud. "No, there's got to be another way."
There were lots of things Olivia was willing to do for the sake of her mission. She was willing to lie to everyone about everything. She would simulate feelings for a man she didn't know to keep suspicion at bay. She was even willing to shoot an innocent man for compromising her work. But Rachel…she was another thing entirely.
There was, of course, the pragmatic dilemma. Newton's sources provided little or no information about Rachel, this Rachel. One wrong word or action, and her cover could be blown.
But there was something else. The Rachel here, she was the sister Olivia would have had if not for the terrible condition that took her life and her child's life. Olivia felt a strange respect for that, for this universe allowing her sister and her child to live.
Having no one here to talk to, to reassure her, Olivia tried to remember what Secretary Bishop had told her before sending her here. They're our doubles, alternate version of ourselves, but don't be deceived, Olivia. They're monsters in our skin. They'll do anything, say anything to gain our trust, but they can't be trusted.
Finally, Olivia had to make the choice. She needed the pretense for leaving for a while, and a visit to her sister was ideal. Besides, Mahomet was only a two and a half hour drive from Chicago. She could rent a car, drive out there, get the item, and fly back to Boston the same day, no problem.
She dialed the number, waited as the phone rang. She hoped for the answering machine. She didn't want to…"
"Hello?"
Olivia felt her heart seemed to skip a beat at the voice on the other end. It was a voice she'd once accepted that she would never hear again.
"H-hi. Hey. It's Liv."
"Liv! Oh my God, where have you been? We've been worried sick about you since we visited you last and you went on that case. Is everything all right? You're not hurt, are you? Do you need me to come up and see you?"
Olivia had to smile at Rachel's over-caring. It was the same way that her own sister did when they were growing up. Rachel had been the sensitive, girly one, but she was the mothering one too. It was no surprise that she'd gotten married and had a child first.
But Olivia straightened herself and remembered why she had called. "I'm fine, Rach, really. Actually, I was wondering if you and Ella would be up for a visit in the next couple of days. I know it's really short notice, but—"
"Are you kidding? Absolutely!" Rachel interrupted with gusto. "Ella will be pumped to see her Aunt Liv."
"Oh that's great," Olivia replied, hoping the lack of enthusiasm hadn't seeped into her voice. She hadn't fully prepared herself for seeing Rachel's daughter. Of all the people in her counterpart's life, Ella was the one who she'd been briefed on the least. And she certainly couldn't ask Peter for information.
"So how long are you staying?"
"Probably about four days. Work has been crazy so I don't know if I can take off any more than that."
Rachel told Olivia that she understood, and to send her flight information. She promised that she and Ella would be there to meet her.
After Olivia hung up the phone, she called Broyles and told him about her plans. She mailed the bills, stopped off at the market and bought some salads and sandwiches for lunch, then drove to Peter and Walter's house.
The house seemed quiet and dark. Olivia peered in, puzzled. "Hello?" she called and knocked. Trying the door knob, she found it was unlocked. Cautiously she entered. "Hello? Peter? Walter? It's Olivia."
Worried now, Olivia left the foyer and peered into the kitchen, which was warm with the stove being on. She could smell something cooking.
Olivia began to turn back to the foyer. And there was Walter, standing behind her.
She yelped, not just from the surprise, but from the fact that the older man was naked, clad only in furry slippers and holding a spatula.
"Olivia, dear! I didn't know you were coming over," Walter greeted her pleasantly.
"Walter! Good God, what the hell are you doing?" Olivia snapped as she tried to look away.
"Oh, well today is my day to cook in the all. It makes you feel alive to really feel the meal with your whole body. Clothes get in the way, don't you think?" He saw the bags she was holding. "You brought lunch? What a lovely gesture. I hope it's nothing too fibrous. I'm already making my chicken burritos and black bean soup."
Olivia smiled as pleasantly as possible. "Is Peter here?"
"Unfortunately not. He decided to run some errands. Would you like to wait for him?"
Olivia took a quick glance and saw that Walter had now put on a green and yellow apron with the words "Undomestic Goddess" stitched in pink on the front.
This man is Secretary Bishop's genetic double? Really? She thought to herself.
Keeping her eyes down, Olivia tentatively walked into the kitchen. "Uh, no Walter. Actually I was just coming to tell you and Peter that I'm going to be out of town for a few days. I'm going to visit Rachel and Ella."
"Oh how wonderful! Please give Rachel my best, and…tell Ella I'm sorry for eating all of her snacks and talking about weird stuff the last time we met."
"I'll do that," Olivia told him. "Here. You and Peter can have this for dinner…if there's any room after the chicken burritos." She laid the bags from the market on the counter, and began to leave, making sure to keep her head down.
"Olivia? You're not staying for lunch?" Walter walked into the foyer, dripping oil from the spatula onto his apron.
Olivia spared him the briefest of glances before answering wryly, "I'm sorry, Walter, but for some odd reason, I've lost my appetite."
"Oh. Must be some sort of stomach virus."
"Must be," she said, waving to Walter as she left.
As Olivia made her way to her car, Peter was coming up the path with a few bags.
"Hey," he said, kissing her cheek. "What are you doing here?"
"Well I was going to have lunch with you and Walter, but…um…."
Peter's eyes grew wide with realization. "Oh geez. I forgot. He's naked, isn't he?"
"Very much so. Mainly I was just coming to tell you guys I'm going to be away for the week. I'm going to see Rachel and Ella."
"That's pretty short notice, isn't it? I mean, you haven't been planning this for a while, have you?"
Olivia thought quickly. "No, it's…well, since we got back from over there, I haven't really made time for her. You know, to tell her that everything's okay. Truthfully, I was just calling to say hi and she just seemed so worried I feel like – like I need to go see her, you know? To show her I'm okay."
Peter nodded. "I guess this is part of getting that new perspective on things, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess you could say that." She pulled him against her. "I'll miss you. I'll try to stay in touch, but Rachel and I were talking about taking Ella on a couple of day trips for the last couple of days."
Peter's eyes crinkled in that way that Olivia was beginning to find charming. "I'll miss you too. Don't worry about us. We'll keep everything going until you get back."
Later that evening, after making her flight arrangements and packing her bags, Olivia lay in her counterpart's bed and stared up at the ceiling. She was having trouble sleeping and the loneliness of the living situation was finally beginning to wear on her. She was used to feeling Frank's warmth next to her, used to talking to him until they both were too tired to keep going. Olivia began to realize that there were things in her life she'd taken for granted.
She shut her eyes tightly. She didn't want to think about Rachel and having to pretend that she was her sister. She didn't want to think about the little girl she was going to have to pretend to love. Instead, she forced her mind to think of the mission afterwards, to Mahomet.
What is it? She thought to herself as she began to drift off. What's the thing that's waiting for me, only me?