A/N: I was going through my drabbles and ficlets and realized I never actually posted this one here. I wrote this back in February, long before we ever heard about baby (or grown) Etta, so rereading it changed me into goo, hence me thinking I should share it. Also, it was written as a birthday present, so it's overly fluffy :'D It takes place in season 3, not 4, somewhere between 6B and OS.

I'm working on my 'official' hiatus fic at the moment, so hopefully you'll see more from me soon. Until then, enjoy the sugar ;)

ONE FRIDAY NIGHT

The room was soon filled with screams of terror and pain, which caused Olivia to smirk in amusement. When skin started to tear open and blood flowed out in very unnatural red gushes, she almost snorted in derision. But she was distracted by the sudden change in the pattern Peter's hand had been tracing on her back.

Well, tracing might not be the right word for it; to be honest, whenever he did that, 'massaged' her back while they watched TV, it felt more like he was trying to dig a hole in there. She kept telling herself that she should let him know about her dislike of this habit, but most of the time, she was way too cozy, cuddled up with him on her couch, her stomach full of delicious food, her mood brightened even more by the two glasses of wine she had usually drunk by that time. She didn't have the heart to let him know how she sometimes got the urge to cut his hand off, especially when she very much loved his hands at other times. Very much, yes.

But right now, his circling motion simply stopped abruptly, his fingers digging painfully into her back as he grunted in disgust; Olivia, on the other hand, hissed in pain, swiflty rolling over, head still on his laps, ready to scowl at him for being so rough on her back. But she stopped, taking in his sudden pallor and grimace, as his eyes remained glued on the screen. She briefly glanced back at it herself. The poor woman now laid dead on the floor, her stomach nothing but a wide, bloody hole, and there was a three year old child just as bloody sitting there in front of her.

Really, she should have known better than have sex with an astronaut who had been infected by some alien DNA or something.

Olivia turned her head again to look up at Peter, whose grimace was almost hilarious.

"Seriously?" she chuckled. "Of all the movies we've seen, this is what grosses you out?"

He lowered his gaze to meet her eyes. "I find this eerie."

She couldn't help another chuckle. "Oh c'mon, we had a case like this one, not even two weeks after we met, remember? A woman 'gave birth' to a baby who turned into an old man and died within minutes. Except that it wasn't an alien thing, but some kind of genetic modification."

"Oh, I remember," he said, pressing the mute button, as his other hand got lost in her hair again. "Maybe that's why it's rubbing me the wrong way, because I know this kind of things happen."

She shook her head, smirking again. "What's wrong, Peter, are you afraid you could possibly father babies who grow inexplicably fast?"

He gave her a look, as if he wasn't amused by her smart remarks, but the twinkle in his eyes told her that he actually was. "Hey, you should be the one worrying about that possibility, not me."

This caused her to snort again. "True, that would be my uterus exploding." She brought a hand to his face then, scratching his stubble with her fingernails. "But it's not like it's going to happen any time soon, right?"

He tilted his head then, squinting his eyes, giving her an intent look. And then he said, very seriously: "Maybe we should make a baby."

An angel passed, as a very pregnant pause followed his statement.

There was a small smile on his lips, as if he was just joking around, but Olivia knew him enough by now to read him, and she could tell that part of him meant it; that, plus the fact that the hand that wasn't entangled in her hair had found its way under her black top, his palm pressed possessively over the plane of her lean stomach.

She wrinkled her nose. "What about no," she told him seriously, but keeping a soft smile on. "Let's save the Universes first, okay?"

"But a baby would be so cute," he continued, his thumb tracing circles around her navel. "Especially if he had your eyes and my sense of humor."

She couldn't help it; she chuckled again, finding him more than a little endearing at that instant. He looked like a child asking if he could get a puppy for Christmas. Except that this would be no puppy, and they both knew it.

"A baby would be very cute for sure, and also oh, so life consuming," she replied, patting his cheek a bit derisively, before dropping her hand to his chest, just over his heart. "Plus, we already have a baby. He's probably very high right now, dancing naked in your living room."

Peter's soft smile had turned into a mischievous smirk, as his fingers moved slowly, starting to slip under the hem of her sweat pants, and she bit down her lip. "Alright, let's practice making babies, then," he said in a suggestive tone.

She could keep on playing that game for a long time, too. "I'm pretty sure we got the hang of it by now."

His fingers had definitely made their way downward now, even though she was still partially protected by the presence of her panties…not that it did much to keep her heart from beating suddenly much faster, as a very familiar and very welcomed warmth spread through her, starting low within herself. This was definitely one of these times when she loved his hands alright.

He had leaned down to bring his mouth closer to hers, breathing in the longing sigh that soon escaped her lips as he started to trespass her panties too. "Practice makes perfect…" he whispered with a cheeky grin. A grin that she swiftly made disappear by effectively attacking his mouth, both her arms coming up to wrap themselves around his neck, as she attempted to get closer to him, much closer.

Soon, she wasn't mostly lying down on the couch anymore, but definitely sitting on his lap, the angle of their embrace quite awkward, but none of them really cared. She did care however when all of a sudden, his hands weren't deliciously working on her anymore, both splaying over her back, and she swallowed back a frustrated groan. Pulling away slightly, she offered him a questioning look. His expression was way too serious again.

"In all seriousness," he said then, softly. "What about babies?"

Her chest still heaving slightly, Olivia sighed, shoulders slumping. She brought both her hands to his face, though, unable not to feel a small, painful squeeze within her chest. "Peter…" she whispered, shaking her head a little. "I won't even let myself think farther than each Friday nights we get to spend together, doing this, being all coupley and pretending we have some kind of a normal life." His eyes were too intense, and she could feel his heart beating too fast, too, their chests close as they were. She offered him a sad smile, her thumbs caressing the hairless skin of his cheeks. "You know how I feel about children, and you know how I feel about you. I just…I honestly can't project myself that far right now."

She knew he understood. Their lives were anything but normal, to be honest, but they both needed this, needed these evenings when they could pretend for a few hours. And maybe that was why he was being insistent on this matter, because wasn't having babies something normal couples did?

Sadly, they were not normal enough for that, not right now in any case, and they both knew it.

Peter smiled then, deciding to put an end to the heavy tension. "And how do you feel about me, exactly?" he asked, cheekily, his hands traveling again over her back, and she rewarded him with an approving smile, shifting again until she was straddling him.

"I feel strongly enough to put myself at risk of having an accelerated pregnancy pretty much every night," she said, teasingly, pressing an unhurried kiss upon his lips.

One of his hands had come up to her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone in a gentle caress that always made her heart ache the most delicious ache. "You love it, though," he said softly, with a smile that was even softer, and Olivia swore she could just drown in his eyes, surely would someday.

She leaned forward slightly, gently nuzzling his nose with hers. "Yeah…I love it," she whispered back, and they both knew what she was truly saying.

"Good," he nodded, planting a kiss on her nose. "Because I love it too," and on these words, he wrapped his arms firmly around her waist and pushed himself up, bringing her along with him. "Time for practice!"

The sound of her laughter soon filled the room, until they morphed into something else, the movie long forgotten.

It often was.