If she hadn't been so nervous about seeing Rachel and Ella, Olivia might have actually had room to be unnerved at the feeling that she was being watched.
She sat tensely in her seat on the plane, staring straight ahead. She was frantically trying to remember all of the facts that the moles had been able to gather for her, and all of the information she managed to dig up around her counterpart's home. Some of the facts were familiar; Rachel went to the same high school. Her wedding anniversary was the same in this universe as in the other – and she married the same guy. She got pregnant at the same time.
But then there were the differences, and not the superficial ones that differed from their childhood. Rachel had lived seven more years over here. She'd done things and seen things that had naturally changed her. But in Olivia's mind, Rachel was still the same young woman excited to be starting a family. As morose as it sounded, Olivia's mind kept Rachel as still being pregnant, still round and healthy and glowing. But this Rachel wasn't that woman. And Olivia's sister would haven been someone new and changed as well.
"First time on a plane?" a voice said. Olivia turned to look at the man sitting across the aisle from her. Tall, slight and balding, he looked perfectly harmless. Appearances could be deceiving, however. Her guard had been up the whole trip. Still, Olivia smiled politely at him.
"No. But I'm not fond of them," she replied. It was the truth. On her world, jets were only used for extended, international trips or emergency situations involving national security – when speed was necessary. If she were home, she'd be flying on a zeppelin. The gondola section was definitely more comfortable and offered more of a view than this plane's cabin. And, they actually served food too.
The man returned the smile sympathetically. "Well, you've made it this far. You're almost there, right?" he asked before returning to his crossword puzzle.
Olivia gave an amiable nod, but her smile quickly dissipated as she scrutinized the man's homely profile. What if he worked for Newton? Checking up on her, ready to report any weakness or faltering on her part?
Olivia closed her eyes and leaned back against her seat. She was being paranoid. Of course she was. But it didn't help that the one ally she had over here she actually disliked more than the people that were supposed to be her enemies. She reminded herself that right now, none of them were there. She was enjoying a visit with her sister and niece.
For the next four days.
The plane landed at O'Hare right on time. Taking a deep breath, Olivia made her way out of the plane and down to the baggage claim, where she and Rachel had agreed to meet.
People flowed around her like water. Faces unfamiliar and fuzzy as Olivia frantically searched for them. The sounds of the airport were distracting. Shouts of recognition, laughter. The loudspeaker blaring and repeating as it was announced that the 1019 from Tampa had been moved from carousel D-4 to E-7. People pushing against her, sliding past her.
Olivia wanted to see them first. It might only be a second or two of lead time, but nonetheless time to prepare herself. She turned around in a circle, looking for them. She was about to reach into her bag and pull out her cellphone when she felt a tug on her jacket.
She jumped slightly, turning around to see a beautiful blonde little girl clinging to her. "Aunt Liv!" the girl piped up.
Olivia's arms went around the child automatically, as if it were something she did every day. "Hi honey."
Ella giggled shyly. "We got here too early. We've been waiting half an hour for you."
Olivia smiled sheepishly. "Where's your mother?"
Just then, a voice called out from several feet away. "Ella! What did I tell you about running off?"
Olivia turned in the direction of the voice, her smile fading quickly. There she was. Dark eyes shining with purpose, blonde hair bouncing freely around her shoulders. A frown of irritation easily being replaced with a grin of joy. Arms flying up and apart, ready to embrace.
Rachel had Olivia in her arms before Olivia even knew it. Squeezing her shoulders in that old familiar way, engulfing her in the smell of her vanilla perfume. Swaying her from side to side in girlish glee.
She's not your sister, she's not her, Olivia thought as she gave herself to the embrace, forcing the tears to stay away from the precipice of her lashes.
Then, mercifully, the embrace was over. Rachel was looking at her head. "Liv? You've changed your hair!"
Olivia chuckled nervously, running her hand over the short fringe of blonde hair on her forehead. "Oh, yeah…I decided to do something a little different."
"I don't like it," Ella piped up. The two women looked down at the miniature, blunt critic.
"Ella! Don't be rude," Rachel admonished her.
"Oh, that's okay. She has a right to her opinion," Olivia said with a gracious smile.
"You're too diplomatic, Liv. In any case, I think it's very chic. Come on, let's get your bags and get you home."
As Rachel and Ella walked off, Olivia lagged slightly behind them, taking them in. Is this what her sister and her daughter would have been like, had they lived?
As Olivia stood by the carousel, watching the clusters of suitcases lazily flow past her, she remembered a particular day seven years ago, when Rachel was pregnant, and Olivia didn't have a hole in her heart…
Rachel had painted the nursery a bright yellow. There were appliques of clouds and rainbows on the wall. The pieces of furniture that had been bought at that point – a crib, a changing table, and a bookshelf – were all wood painted white. Rachel was putting a couple of nursery rhyme books on the bookshelf, her long floral dress brushing the carpet. "So?" she asked with her back turned to Liv, "What do you think?"
"I thought you were going with pink. Why yellow? It's…it's like the room's made out of custard." Olivia gave her sister a teasing, good natured smile.
Rachel turned around with an annoyed look. "It's called 'sunburst,' I'll have you know. And yes, I was going to go with pink, but I thought that somehow, yellow would be cheerier."
"Fair enough. So, what's left to do?"
"Just have to get a rocking chair. There's an adorable one I saw at a store on Lexington with Mom the other day, but it's really expensive. I think I'll wait."
Olivia made a mental note to herself to talk to her mother about it, possibly sharing the cost of it together and make it one of their baby shower presents. She quickly changed the subject to deflect Rachel's suspicion. "So, how's Greg doing with all of this?"
"Oh…you know. He's happy about the baby coming, but…" Rachel trailed off, seeming to immerse herself in folding a purple bunny quilt,
Olivia frowned. "But what?" she gently pressed.
Rachel looked over at her sister soberly. "Nothing. Really, Liv – nothing." She smiled and put her hand to her jutting belly. "You know, I think this baby is going to be a new beginning for us. I think Greg and I are finally going to put away our petty differences and it's going to be about love for a change. Just love this time, nothing else."
And then Olivia's red Pullman suitcase was floating by. Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she pulled it off of the metal belt, informed her counterpart's family that she retrieved her bag, and followed them to their car.
On the way to their house, Rachel filled the empty space with tales of her family's exploits in their new hometown, which, fortunately for Olivia, required very little listener participation. Olivia merely had to give a chuckle or some other appropriate reaction to Rachel and Ella's stories. They hardly asked her about her work; Olivia had to assume that her double had informed her family long ago that she couldn't talk about what she did on a day to day basis for the FBI. This was, of course, in stark contrast to the Fringe division on her world. Everyone knew about Fringe and what they did. Statistically, 1 in every 3 American civilians had a family member, friend, or some other close acquaintance who worked for the agency, and so if they didn't hear about the superficial details about a case from their loved one, they'd definitely hear about it on the evening news.
As Olivia was listening to Rachel tell the story of her last PTA meeting at Ella's school, she caught a glimpse of a car, following a little too closely behind Rachel's dark blue SUV. It was matching Rachel's speed and direction, putting on a turn signal at a half-second after her, changing lanes exactly when she was.
She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out the driver's features in the passenger side mirror. Unfortunately Rachel was driving so fast the scene was too much of a blur for her. Obviously she couldn't tell Rachel to slow down without inviting some concern. She kept a close watch on the car, and the exact distance they were traveling.
"How much farther till we're there?" Olivia asked as nonchalantly as she could.
As Rachel was trying to answer, Ella quickly hijacked the conversation and gave her expert advice on where they were and how much farther they had to go. Olivia couldn't help but smile at the little girl. She was at that age where she wanted to have all the answers and to be treated like one of the adults.
Rachel gave Olivia a look of slight exasperation at her daughter's chatter, but she did confirm that what Ella was saying was true: they were nearing their neighborhood and were just about five miles away.
Olivia turned her eyes to the sight of the old Cadillac, still following behind. The car was closer now, close enough that Olivia could just make out the features of the driver. It was a man, with short dark hair and olive skin, but that didn't help. It could have been anyone, even Charlie, if he grew his hair out. She allowed her fingers to rest on her gun, preparing herself to fire if she had to.
Finally they came to a stop in front of a pleasant-looking white and black rancher in a well-manicured neighborhood. Rachel turned to Olivia with a smile. "Home sweet home!"
Rachel and Ella got out of the car, but Olivia lagged behind. She watched from the rearview mirror as the Cadillac stopped at the top of the street, then made a sharp right turn and left the neighborhood. Her nails dug into the upholestery. He had been watching them.
Rachel leaned in at the passenger window with a concerned smile. "Liv? Are you coming?"
"Oh. Oh, yeah, sorry," Olivia replied, taking up her bag and following Rachel into the house. She spared one last glance behind her to see if the car was there, but it was not. She exhaled and went in.
It was incredible. It wasn't the same house, or the same state, or even the same world – but nearly every detail of the home Olivia's sister had shared with her husband had been copied in this one. The same shade of the drapes and sofas, the same carved wooden figures on the bookshelves and tables, the same paintings on the walls. Even the carpet beneath Olivia's feet had the same plush feeling to it. Olivia stared at the living room, heedless if her mouth was open from shock.
Without being asked Olivia walked into the kitchen that was set off to the right. Granted, the kitchen was to the left in the other house, but it was amazing. Same appliances chosen, the same granite countertops and gleaming white cabinets. The only difference was the colorful artwork that adorned the stainless steel fridge. Ella's efforts – never to be found anywhere else.
As she took it all in, she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. "Do you like it?" Rachel asked. Olivia turned around, speechless.
"What is it, Liv? You don't like it?" she asked Olivia with a frown.
Olivia recovered herself. "No, it's not that. It's…beautiful, Rach. I'm so proud of you."
Rachel wrapped an arm around Olivia's waist and led her back out to the living room. "Come on, sis. You must be tired from that trip. Let me show you your room."
The guest room was a deep blue – it reminded Olivia of the shade her mother had wanted to paint her kitchen, at first. That was the first thing that Olivia noticed about it. The second thing was Ella was already in the room, playing with a porcelain doll.
"Ella, sweetie, be careful with her," Rachel warned her daughter about the doll, taking it away from her and handing it to Olivia with a smile. "Here. I bet you thought I forgot, but I didn't."
Olivia took the doll with a short smile. She had no idea what Rachel was talking about. A spark of fear ran down her spine as she looked blankly at the doll's painted features and black ringlets. She knew she had to say something. "Thanks, Rach. It means a lot," she decided to reply.
Ella gave her mother a puzzled look, but Rachel took the girl's hand and said, "Greg will be home in an hour or so. I thought we could all go out to dinner when he gets back."
"Yeah! That sounds good. Um…I think I might just freshen up," Olivia replied.
"Absolutely. Come on, Ella." The two of them left the room, shutting the door behind them.
Olivia sat on the edge of the bed once the door was shut. She hadn't had a terribly long day, but she was feeling tired. It took a great deal of energy to be someone else, to contain the fear of being found out.
She was about to lie back and close her eyes when her phone rang. Standing immediately, she pulled it out of her pocket and read the illuminated face. It was Newton.
"Just wanted to see how the little family reunion was going," he purred to her.
Olivia rolled her eyes. "Not that it's any of your business, but it's fine. You certainly didn't need to send one of your chromosomally-challenged goons to follow me."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "What are you talking about?" he finally asked.
"Don't play dumb with me. I saw the Cadillac that was following Rachel Blake's car. Stay out of things that don't concern you, I'm warning you."
Newton chuckled. "I think being out of your comfort zone is playing tricks on you, Dunham. I have better things to do than to squander my resources on following you around. My only concern is that you show up at the agreed place and time on Sunday. I have no doubts that you will, of course. Have a good evening."
Olivia slowly brought the cell phone away from her ear. Setting it down on the bed, she walked over to the window and looked out at the green lawns and neatly set little houses. The car she'd seen was nowhere in sight. There was a faint ringing noise, and Olivia watched a couple of children on bicycles ride past, their laughter high and sharp.
"This should have been Rachel's," Olivia said softly to herself. Sighing, she crossed her arms and went back to the bed. That Cadillac was just a coincidence, she realized now. It was stress of being here. She just needed to make it through the next four days.
He waited long after the family had gone into the house to drive down the road. He slowed down in front of the rancher and took a good look at it. The Fringe agent had seen him; he was sure of that. He'd have to approach her carefully, because there was no telling how she would take his presence.
He had debated on whether or not to tell her the truth when they finally met, but at last he decided he would. After all, they were both from another universe – strangers in a strange land.