Chapter XII
Olivia paused, the muffled sounds of her footsteps immediately silent in the hall. She stared, and Charlie immediately reached for his gun, "What's up?" he murmured quietly, glancing around.
Olivia cautiously approached the window, shifting the curtains away with her fingertips as she looked out. She blinked slowly, and turned back to Charlie, "…Where's the other shutter?" she was answered as it tipped over, falling out from behind the curtain with a clatter. She drew her gun, locking back the hammer, "They're in the house," she said sharply.
Charlie lifted his radio, "All units. Bishops are in the vicinity. I repeat, Bishops are in the house."
"Get downstairs and check on Astrid!" Olivia said, speeding off down the hall. Charlie ran for the stairs.
Olivia dodged back and fourth across the hallway, clearing each of the open doorways as she passed them. A shadow slipped to the side of her vision, and she sprinted after it, "Hey! Freeze!" she let off a warning shot.
But they had disappeared. Olivia reached the intersection of halls, where the mirage had been, her heart thundering in her chest. A small, black canvas satchel lay before her, and she looked back and fourth, before lowering her gun to move closer to the inconspicuous package. Gingerly, knelt, and stretched out her hand toward it.
"Don't touch that!" someone exclaimed, and Olivia let out a cry as someone seized her arm, pulling her away from the bag, "Jesus, don't you know a bomb when you see it, ya crazy woman?!"
A familiar scent. The rough feel of his stubble against her forehead as he held her protectively, like she were a child that had become lost in the dark. Her heart sobbed. Peter.
Olivia pressed the barrel of her nine millimeter under his chin, gritting her teeth bitterly.
Peter stilled. Slowly, he lifted his hands away from her shoulders, swallowing, "Okay. So you're mad. I understand that. But let's not be to terribly hasty, okay?"
"You're under arrest," Olivia said coldly, "Step away and keep your hands where I can see them."
"Listen, Olivia, I-"
"I suggest that you shut your trap, Mr. Bishop," she hissed, twisting the cold barrel against his throat as she stepped away from him, "hands up. Face the wall."
"I don't want to hurt you, Olivia," Peter said, raising his hands, "but you have to listen to me."
"Against the wall. Stop talking," Olivia demanded, her hands quaking slightly, as he looked into her eyes.
He batted the gun down, and Olivia stumbled backward, cursing, "Listen to me," Peter insisted, stepping forward, his palms still showing.
"Back off!" Olivia said, holding the gun against his chest and baring her teeth, "Back the hell off!"
"Stop it," he hissed, his face tight with anger, "Stop this cop shit. I'm not some thug, alright?"
"You're a criminal," Olivia answered acidly, "What makes you any different?"
"Yeah? Then shoot me. One in the heart, one in the head. Go for it." he watched her coldly, and she winced, her hand trembling as the rattled.
"You're under arrest," Olivia repeated.
"Why?"
"Because you're a fucking criminal!" Olivia snapped.
Peter snatched the gun away from her, slipping out the clip and ejecting the bullet in the chamber in one smooth action. He tossed them into the shadows, "Tell them I disarmed you," he said, moving away to turn.
"Peter!" Olivia cried, "Turn around or I'll kill you!"
He paused, then scratched the back of his neck, turning back to her, "Can I help you?"
"Why won't you kill me, then?!" She demanded, "Why not me?! I'm your enemy as much as you are mine!"
"Because I'm not your enemy," Peter said with a wistful smile. Olivia looked angry and confused, and he continued, "I'm not John. In so many ways, I'm not him."
"What do you mean? what are you talking about?"
"You're still chasing him. You don't see me as me, anymore. You loved John. He lied to you. You caught him. None of that has anything to do with me, and until you realize that, you're never going to catch me."
"Don't you dare bring him into this," Olivia said through gritted teeth, "Don't, Peter."
"Why not? You hated him, too."
"I loved John, and you're a bastard for even thinking that."
Peter moved back to Olivia in the dark, resting his arm over her head and he leaned over her, "So there's hope for me, then?" he questioned softly. Olivia stared up into his face, at a loss, "I'm not John, Olivia. There's no way in hell I'd ever do something like that to you."
"Then what's this?" Olivia questioned.
"This is me apologizing," Peter said, touching her hair, "something he never would have done."
Olivia swallowed, turning her face away as her eyes began to sting, "You're making a fool of me," she whispered, glaring into the dark, "I hate you."
Peter stilled, and touched her cheek to catch her tear, "Are you talking to him again?" Olivia did not answer, shivering with rage and sadness. Peter bit the inside of his cheek, "I'm sorry, Olivia. Even if you don't hate me, I do. But I can't stop, not now. Not when I'm so close to finishing it all…"
"Then you're just like him," Olivia said.
"I'm not. I've never lied to you; you knew I was like this-" Olivia brought a stinging slap across his face, and he did not flinch.
"Don't pull that shit!" Olivia sobbed, "People change, that's what makes them people! I thought you'd understand! I didn't think that you'd just twist me again-" Peter silenced her with a kiss.
"I do understand, Olivia," he said, gathering her close, "I understand, and I'm so, so sorry. It's not fair, I know."
"It isn't," she conceded into his collar, wadding his sweater in her trembling fists, "I love you, Peter."
He held her tighter, whispering his reply into her hair.
A gunshot rang from somewhere deep in the house, and Olivia reached for her empty holster. Her radio sounded with scratchy white noise, and she looked up to find he had disappeared. Olivia wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve like a child.
xXx
Gah, what a troublesome pair! *dies*