A/N: Okay here's another chapter... I know none of them are very long, but so long as I get lots of hits and reviews I will post up new chapters extremely often cause I have no time on my hands... So enjoy and review!

Day 1: The Relatively Boring Day...

Chapter 2: The Drive Up

So Peter and I went out to the parking garage and he drove me in my car back to my apartment, which really pissed me off because it's my car and it's not like I was incapable of driving or anything... What, is he a sexist? Thinks I can't drive my own self home?

"Go pack your bags," Peter said, leaning out the car window. "It's a beach town, remember, so bring some kind of bathing suit. And maybe a nice dress."

"What? Why?" I said, irritated that he was telling me what to do. I can figure out what to bring! Well, I mean, maybe I could use a little help, I've never been to Atlantic City after all... But it's not like I plan on doing anything other than business while we're there! Nope, nope, no sir-ee!

"Well, it's a party city after all, and if you plan on sitting in a hotel room pushing papers for three days while you're in one of my favorite towns on the eastern seaboard, you've got another thing coming." I didn't have a reply to that, so there was a sort of awkward silence for a few seconds, filled with nothing but his deep blue eyes and dazzling smile... Why the hell are we just friends? Sometimes (okay every second of my life) I with he would stop seeing me as a best friend, or a stuck up law enforcement officer, or a co-worker and just see me as a prospective date. Is that too much to ask?

"I'm gonna head back to the apartment and pack up my own stuff," Peter said awkwardly (did I catch a blush on his face? You know what, I think I'm a little over tired right now. Yeah, that's all this funny knot in my stomach is. Damn, I need some coffee) "I'll be back in 20?"

"Sure, Sure," I said trying not to let my voice shake.

"You alright, Liv," He questioned suspiciously.

"Yeah, fine. Maybe I'm just getting a little of what Walter has..." I thought up a lame excuse on the spot.

"Walter has food poisoning. You can't catch food poisoning." Damn you, Peter Bishop.

"Well then I guess I'm just tired. Okay that's nice. I-I think I'm gonna shut up and go pack now. See you in 20! Bye, Peter!" I dipped my head behind my hair so he couldn't see my face. He rolled up the window and pulled away from the sidewalk.

He was around the block when I realized...

"Hey! That's my car, damn it! Peter! Get back here!" I sighed and stuffed my hands in my pockets and strode up to the door.

PETER'S P.O.V.

I was driving down the road, the orange light of the street lamps dancing on the wet pavement, I guess we had gotten a sprinkling in the few moments I was asleep last night. I sighed, thinking of...

"Olivia," I said her name out loud in the solitude of the car. Her car. It smelled distinctly like her, that tangerine shampoo, the pickled ginger that fell under the seat when they stopped for sushi last week, her favorite French roast coffee, and something else he couldn't put his finger on that was just distinctly her.

"Olivia," He said her name again. The syllables rolled off his tongue so easily, fitting together like a beautiful poem. Well, it made sense after all since she herself was beautiful.

He'd long since passed through the stage of denial in this emotional roller coaster he called Olivia Dunham. It wasn't worth lying to himself, lying hurt too much. At least the pretending she might one day requite his feelings and the daydreaming filled the void most of the time.

But it was times like these where it didn't quite cut it. She didn't seem to excited about this little outing. He wanted to show her a good time while they were there, though. It might be his only real chance to romance her. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but he couldn't even bring himself to say it in the silence of the car, so how would he ever manage to do it to her face?

He wanted to do something special, give him the best chance he could muster up. He picked up the phone and called an old friend.

OLIVIA'S P.O.V.

Here we are now, driving down south on a 6 hour adventure to a city I've never before had a desire to go to. It's a land full of people like Peter Bishop - crooks and conmen. Never did I ever thing I'd be in lov-

Wait a second... I'm not gonna let myself say those three words. I'll only say those three words if he'd ever feel that same way about me, which he doesn't. And probably never will. I'm not going to break my own heart if I can help it.

I'd printed out the directions, but Peter seemed to have his own idea about where we're going, promising it'd be faster and have less tolls. To me, it feels like he's just taking me on a scenic tour of America's coastline, but what do I know. At first I was a little angry about it, but Peter actually seems to know where he's going and the view is actually really pretty. We had all the windows rolled down and the stereo cranked up jamming out to Modest Mouse (who knew he was into indie?)

"Liv, up ahead on the right," Peter pointed.

"What is- Oh! The horses! They're beautiful..." I said, always having had a soft spot in my heart for horses as a little girl. I kept it a secret, because I always wanted to seem like a tough girl.

"Bellow them," Peter said.

"What?"

"Yell something at them."

"Oh um, like what?"

"Hurry!"

"Um... I'M A PRETTY HORSIE!"

They all bolted, braying as they went. Peter and I cracked up laughing, and I don't really know what about it made it so incredibly hysterical, but it was.

"I'm a pretty horsie," Peter raised an eyebrow in my direction.

"Oh shut up you bloody moron," I retorted.

"Oh so you're English now? Pip-pip cheerio, Bonnie, shall we have some tea and crumpets this evening?" He was laughing. Hard. Oh why the hell does that turn me on?

I blushed. Virgin Mary, Mother of God, get me through these next three days without nose bleeds or blacking out...