A/N - So I made it to 50! Thank you so much for all the reviews...

Kepp reading - I promise it is worth it

:)

Chapter Thirteen – Fall Between The Cracks

Thanks to her sleep that afternoon, Olivia was wide awake while the rest of the house was quiet and still. Angela had settled herself in the spare room while Michael had opted for the pull out in the living room, wanting to watch a documentary on the Discovery channel before he had gone to sleep. Olivia had waited until Peter was asleep before slipping from the bed and padding into the kitchen. She arranged the files on the breakfast bar while she waited for the kettle to boil, dismissing the file on Wyndell James, trying to see another link. She made herself a peppermint tea before settling in a seat and starting to read. She flinched when the door swung open, a dishevelled Michael sliding into the room.

"Michael, I didn't wake you, did I?"

Michael shook his head, before rubbing his eye.

"No. I never sleep very well in a new place. What are you doing?"

Olivia sighed.

"Defining Albert Einstein's definition of crazy."

"Repeating the same action hoping for a different outcome."

"Exactly."

Michael climbed onto the seat beside her, glancing at her arm.

"Is your arm badly broken?"

Olivia raised her arm slightly. She kept forgetting that it was broken, until she tried to do something, like lift a mug.

"Not too bad. It's a clean break."

"That's something at least. If a small fragment of bone managed to make it to your heart, you would die."

Olivia smiled slightly.

"I can assure you, there are no fragments."

"Good."

Olivia put down her pen and turned her attention completely to Michael.

"Did you want something to drink?"

"What are you drinking?"

"Peppermint tea."

"Is it pleasant?"

Olivia offered her mug to Michael and he took it, sipping tentatively.

"That is surprisingly refreshing."

Olivia chuckled and slid off her seat, making Michael the same drink, adding a little cold water to make sure he didn't burn his mouth. When she sat back down, Michael was frowning over her notes.

"Wyndell James is dead isn't he?"

"What makes you say that?"

Michael sighed.

"Peter refused to tell me what was bothering him when he came to visit. He said I didn't need to know about other people's problems."

"He was right."

"But he's dead. This means one less person."

"This is a good thing Michael. The fewer pieces I need to put together, the better."

Michael nodded slightly.

"I understand. I also believe I owe you an apology."

"What for?"

"Imposing on you like this. But Peter insisted when I told him about Aunt Angela."

"What about her?"

Michael sipped at his tea.

"Aunt Angela gave up many vices before I was born. One of them being the excess consumption of alcohol."

"She's a recovering alcoholic?"

"Yes. I was concerned that this may push her back into those habits. She's a strong person but when my parent's died, she lost a little of that strength. Her and my father were very close."

"But she stopped for you?"

Michael shook his head.

"For my father. He told her that she had to choose between alcohol and her family."

"And when you told Peter-"

"He said we could re-locate to your home. He thought that it might relieve some of the pressure off her."

Olivia nodded slightly.

"He has a point."

"He is a very good man, your husband."

"I like to think so."

"He reminds me of my father."

"He must have been a good man."

Michael smiled softly.

"He was gentle and kind. He was only in the forces because my grand-father left him very little choice over his own fate. My grand-father didn't appreciate my father's intelligence, would have valued a strong son over an intelligent one."

"Parents have more to learn than their children sometimes."

"I never met my grand-father. My father would not allow it."

"That must have been hard on him."

"It was. I sometimes wonder if he thought of that in his moment of death, if he regretted not talking to his father."

Olivia shook her head.

"You can't think like that. You will drive yourself crazy."

"Not really. I know how he thought. His mind worked like mine. When he had to travel for business, we had a code. My father was a big fan of World War Two. He used knowledge to make letter writing far more entertaining than it really was."

Michael turned in his seat and Olivia let him change the subject as he looked over her notes.

"So do you have any other suspects?"

Olivia stayed silent for a moment, glancing over her information. There wasn't anything there that could hurt Michael long term, no more than this case already had.

"The scientists from Trualific Sciences are our main targets."

"Why?"

"Because they are the people with the knowledge."

"Knowledge to do what?"

"Still trying to figure that out. Walter-"

"Wait."

Olivia paused, surprised by Michael's sudden excitement. He wore a bright smile, a sparkle in his eye.

"You mean Walter Bishop? Dr Walter Bishop?"

"Yes. That's Peter's father."

"Wow."

"You've heard of him?"

"One of my tutor's, Professor Stevens, always talks about him. I have to admit, I have come to admire him greatly."

"Well, when all this mess is sorted out, I can introduce you if you like."

"Really?"

"Sure."

Michael, in a move that took Olivia by surprise, threw his arms around her, squeezing hard. Olivia laughed slightly as he released her.

"Not a problem."

Michael finished his drink and slid off his seat.

"Thank you for the drink. I should try and get more sleep."

"Etta is going to be up in a few hours and when she finds out that you are still here, she won't let you rest."

Michael smiled softly.

"Ok. And thank you."

"You're welcome Michael. Have a good sleep."

She watched as he slipped out of the kitchen before returning her attention back to her notes and the now cold peppermint tea in her hand.

"Momma! Dada! Up!"

Olivia moaned at the sound of Etta's voice, feeling as if she had closed her eyes five minutes ago. It had been a few hours, she knew that but the car accident was making her body ache and the distinct throb was back in her arm. She kept her eyes closed as she felt the bed move beside her, Peter getting up to get Etta. Olivia stretched out slightly, stealing the warmth from Peter's side of the bed. Etta's soft chatter filled her ears as she sighed and finally moved out of bed. She examined the pills on the bedside table, eventually finding the pills that could kill the pain without pulling her into a coma like the ones that Peter had given her. She stood and stretched before padding into the bathroom and brushing her teeth. And that she when she smelt it. She had almost forgotten that they had guests but now the house was filling with a delicious smell and she followed it down the stairs and into the kitchen. Angela was dressed in track pants and t-shirt, flipping French toast with practiced ease. She looked a little more relaxed than she had yesterday.

"Good morning Agent Dunham."

"Please call me Olivia."

Michael offered her a smile.

"Good morning Olivia."

"Hi Michael. You're making breakfast."

"It's the least we could do. Sit down,I'll get you a coffee."

Olivia did as she was told, watching Angela as she poured the coffee and placed the mug in front of her accompanied by a steaming plate of French toast. Olivia was topping it off with powdered sugar when Peter entered with Etta, a wide smile on his face.

"You can stay as long as you like."

Angela laughed, nodding towards the seat next to Olivia.

"Sit down. Can Etta eat the French toast?"

"She loves French toast, don't you Etta?"

Etta nodded.

"Toast."

Peter handed Etta to Olivia when the phone started to ring, slipping from the kitchen to take the call. Olivia was feeding Etta, blowing on pieces before popping them into her mouth, when he reappeared, a frown on his face.

"Liv, we have to go."

"What's happened?"

"They found Cassie Ann Burton."