Checkmate
03-20-2010, 01:16 AM
So, this is a dream I had the other day that was based on a theory about a future episode. (The theory comes from dach here on the forums.) :D It needed writing because it was too cute. :happy15:
Walter sat on the edge of the bed smiling at Ella, who was nestled deep under the covers. He was in charge of babysitting duty for the night while the other adults were out. And the highlight to any good night, Walter always said, is a bedtime story. And he held true to his beliefs this night, with Olivia's niece.
Peter and Olivia were out somewhere, though Walter had lost track of where they had decided to go tonight. Drinking or an activity? They switched back and forth too often, with seemingly no order. Walter hated the unorganized schedule, but as long as his son was with a woman--and Agent Dunham no less--he could overlook it.
"Gene will join in, and Agent Farnsworth. Maybe even Special Agent Broyles will sing a song or two!" mused Walter, much to Ella's bubbling amusement. His tale of singing FBI agents had her side in stitches.
"You're silly, Walter," she smiled, the little gaps between her teeth fitting and adorable in her perfectly round angel face.
"Silly? No," Walter disagreed gently. "Open-minded."
Ella giggled again. "Cows don't dance!" she squealed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. But like Walter, Ella secretly wished they could.
"I never can get Peter to sing," Walter mused. "He used to love it, but then..." He trailed off sadly, and his gaze became distant. Ella noticed and took one Walter's aged hands in both of hers, tiny and soft. Seemingly weak in comparison. But the effect was much stronger. Children could do that.
"Not even the birthday song?" Ella whispered in genuine disbelief. Walter's smile pulled his lips up again.
"I got Row, Row, Row Your Boat out of him once, I suppose," Walter offered.
Ella smiled and sighed, feeling that the crisis had been averted. A man like Peter should sing, she thought. She liked him too, and he seemed like the type of adult who should sing. Especially if his dad asked.
"Aunt Liv doesn't sing either," Ella responded consolingly, patting the elder man's hand.
Walter smothered Ella's hands in both of his warmly. "They are more alike than they care to acknowledge, aren't they?"
After a short pause, Ella cracked an almost criminal smile. But it was sweet and cute. Her eyes glittered with a distinctly enlightened look that Walter admired.
"My mom says Aunt Liv really likes Peter," Ella giggled unabashedly, pulling her hands out of Walter's and snickering into the covers.
Walter beamed at the girl. He liked her. "I like to think so," he whispered, winking.
Ella suddenly burst out from underneath the covers, and Walter nearly jumped. The little girl had gasped like she was doused with cold water, and she was staring off into the distance with a sudden realization written all over her face. "Do you think they'll get married?" she gasped hopefully.
Walter laughed and patted Ella on the shoulder gently. "I do hope so! And Peter will wear my purple tux!"
Both the minds of the man and child were then filled with the same image. Peter wearing a purple suit that looked good in the adolescent and addled minds (yet was truly atrocious) spinning Olivia gently by a single finger above her head.
She wore a brilliant white gown tied around the waist with a lavender colored ribbon. Her hair was done up in a way that was too intricate to look severe, and the design was laced with tiny white flowers. The whole scene seemed to glow with the light of their two smiles, and all-in-all, it didn't look too bad. Or that far-fetched.
"Wouldn't that be wonderful?" Water sighed blissfully, still lost in the vision.
"What's wonderful?"
Walter turned to address the voice in the doorway. It was Peter, hand on Olivia's lower back, smiling guardedly at the pair on the bed. Peter wore a nice outfit that was just shy of a suit. A nice crisp shirt and jacket, with more casual pants. And no tie. Never a tie. Olivia had on a simple black dress, dangling earrings glinting warm light that they reflected from the bedroom's lamp.
"Dancing cows," Ella beamed. Not entirely a lie, but a necessary stretch of the truth.
"Ah," Olivia affirmed, nodding. She flashed a smile up at Peter, who returned the look with less blatant warmth.
Slipping from Peter's grasp, Olivia walked over to Ella, crouching over her. "What is this? A bedbug?!" she teased, poking her finger into the ticklish spot on Ella's stomach. The girl giggled heartily, and Olivia joined in.
Peter meandered over to Walter, who'd sat back to allow the aunt and niece their greeting. He gave his father an almost congratulatory pat on the back, watching the scene as well, drawn in the the tangible love between the pair of Dunham girls.
"Good job, Walter," he murmured quietly.
"Come on, Aunt Liv, listen to Walter's story!" Ella pleaded, scooting her way into the center of the bed and patting the spot beside her. "You too, Peter!" she added, patting both sides at once.
Peter tossed Olivia a glance, and they both shrugged, almost imperceptibly. Why not? They took their respective spots on the bed, and Walter had to admire the image for a moment before he could speak. A small child framed by two loving caretakers, close without being claustrophobic, and all perfectly comfortable.
Olivia reached her arm around Ella and pulled her slightly her direction, into the soft curve of her side. On Ella's other side, Peter took Olivia's fingers in his own, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And for them it was.
Ella snuck a peak over to her side and saw the entwined fingers, then gave Walter a discreet thumbs up from just above the covers.
***
After Walter's story had run to to the point that Ella's eyelids were drooping, he trailed off. He signaled for Ella to be quiet, and pointed to Peter and Olivia. The normally unflappable pair were sound asleep around Ella. She smiled at them dreamily and yawned. Rubbing her eyes, she crawled carefully to the end of he bed and let Walter carry her to bed, leaving Peter and Olivia behind, resting peacefully, hand in hand.
***
The next morning, Peter could feel something soft under his fingers. His hand fit the curve perfectly, and he wondered what he was-- Olivia. It was Olivia's waist. And her... dress? Groggily forcing his eyes open, he realized he was holding Olivia into the hollow his body made, and she was pressed into his side willingly. They were both still in their evening clothes. They must have dozed off while... Ella?
Sitting up carefully, so as not to wake Olivia, Peter rubbed his head gently with the hand that wasn't propping his exhausted body up. It smelled like eggs in the house, and he could hear the mixed timbres of Ella and Walter's voices. Smiling sleepily, he collapsed--softly, of course--back into the bed and let Olivia's hand take its place on his chest.
Walter sat on the edge of the bed smiling at Ella, who was nestled deep under the covers. He was in charge of babysitting duty for the night while the other adults were out. And the highlight to any good night, Walter always said, is a bedtime story. And he held true to his beliefs this night, with Olivia's niece.
Peter and Olivia were out somewhere, though Walter had lost track of where they had decided to go tonight. Drinking or an activity? They switched back and forth too often, with seemingly no order. Walter hated the unorganized schedule, but as long as his son was with a woman--and Agent Dunham no less--he could overlook it.
"Gene will join in, and Agent Farnsworth. Maybe even Special Agent Broyles will sing a song or two!" mused Walter, much to Ella's bubbling amusement. His tale of singing FBI agents had her side in stitches.
"You're silly, Walter," she smiled, the little gaps between her teeth fitting and adorable in her perfectly round angel face.
"Silly? No," Walter disagreed gently. "Open-minded."
Ella giggled again. "Cows don't dance!" she squealed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. But like Walter, Ella secretly wished they could.
"I never can get Peter to sing," Walter mused. "He used to love it, but then..." He trailed off sadly, and his gaze became distant. Ella noticed and took one Walter's aged hands in both of hers, tiny and soft. Seemingly weak in comparison. But the effect was much stronger. Children could do that.
"Not even the birthday song?" Ella whispered in genuine disbelief. Walter's smile pulled his lips up again.
"I got Row, Row, Row Your Boat out of him once, I suppose," Walter offered.
Ella smiled and sighed, feeling that the crisis had been averted. A man like Peter should sing, she thought. She liked him too, and he seemed like the type of adult who should sing. Especially if his dad asked.
"Aunt Liv doesn't sing either," Ella responded consolingly, patting the elder man's hand.
Walter smothered Ella's hands in both of his warmly. "They are more alike than they care to acknowledge, aren't they?"
After a short pause, Ella cracked an almost criminal smile. But it was sweet and cute. Her eyes glittered with a distinctly enlightened look that Walter admired.
"My mom says Aunt Liv really likes Peter," Ella giggled unabashedly, pulling her hands out of Walter's and snickering into the covers.
Walter beamed at the girl. He liked her. "I like to think so," he whispered, winking.
Ella suddenly burst out from underneath the covers, and Walter nearly jumped. The little girl had gasped like she was doused with cold water, and she was staring off into the distance with a sudden realization written all over her face. "Do you think they'll get married?" she gasped hopefully.
Walter laughed and patted Ella on the shoulder gently. "I do hope so! And Peter will wear my purple tux!"
Both the minds of the man and child were then filled with the same image. Peter wearing a purple suit that looked good in the adolescent and addled minds (yet was truly atrocious) spinning Olivia gently by a single finger above her head.
She wore a brilliant white gown tied around the waist with a lavender colored ribbon. Her hair was done up in a way that was too intricate to look severe, and the design was laced with tiny white flowers. The whole scene seemed to glow with the light of their two smiles, and all-in-all, it didn't look too bad. Or that far-fetched.
"Wouldn't that be wonderful?" Water sighed blissfully, still lost in the vision.
"What's wonderful?"
Walter turned to address the voice in the doorway. It was Peter, hand on Olivia's lower back, smiling guardedly at the pair on the bed. Peter wore a nice outfit that was just shy of a suit. A nice crisp shirt and jacket, with more casual pants. And no tie. Never a tie. Olivia had on a simple black dress, dangling earrings glinting warm light that they reflected from the bedroom's lamp.
"Dancing cows," Ella beamed. Not entirely a lie, but a necessary stretch of the truth.
"Ah," Olivia affirmed, nodding. She flashed a smile up at Peter, who returned the look with less blatant warmth.
Slipping from Peter's grasp, Olivia walked over to Ella, crouching over her. "What is this? A bedbug?!" she teased, poking her finger into the ticklish spot on Ella's stomach. The girl giggled heartily, and Olivia joined in.
Peter meandered over to Walter, who'd sat back to allow the aunt and niece their greeting. He gave his father an almost congratulatory pat on the back, watching the scene as well, drawn in the the tangible love between the pair of Dunham girls.
"Good job, Walter," he murmured quietly.
"Come on, Aunt Liv, listen to Walter's story!" Ella pleaded, scooting her way into the center of the bed and patting the spot beside her. "You too, Peter!" she added, patting both sides at once.
Peter tossed Olivia a glance, and they both shrugged, almost imperceptibly. Why not? They took their respective spots on the bed, and Walter had to admire the image for a moment before he could speak. A small child framed by two loving caretakers, close without being claustrophobic, and all perfectly comfortable.
Olivia reached her arm around Ella and pulled her slightly her direction, into the soft curve of her side. On Ella's other side, Peter took Olivia's fingers in his own, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And for them it was.
Ella snuck a peak over to her side and saw the entwined fingers, then gave Walter a discreet thumbs up from just above the covers.
***
After Walter's story had run to to the point that Ella's eyelids were drooping, he trailed off. He signaled for Ella to be quiet, and pointed to Peter and Olivia. The normally unflappable pair were sound asleep around Ella. She smiled at them dreamily and yawned. Rubbing her eyes, she crawled carefully to the end of he bed and let Walter carry her to bed, leaving Peter and Olivia behind, resting peacefully, hand in hand.
***
The next morning, Peter could feel something soft under his fingers. His hand fit the curve perfectly, and he wondered what he was-- Olivia. It was Olivia's waist. And her... dress? Groggily forcing his eyes open, he realized he was holding Olivia into the hollow his body made, and she was pressed into his side willingly. They were both still in their evening clothes. They must have dozed off while... Ella?
Sitting up carefully, so as not to wake Olivia, Peter rubbed his head gently with the hand that wasn't propping his exhausted body up. It smelled like eggs in the house, and he could hear the mixed timbres of Ella and Walter's voices. Smiling sleepily, he collapsed--softly, of course--back into the bed and let Olivia's hand take its place on his chest.