Thought I could post it here*-*
DISCLAIMER: I obviously don't own Fringe or any of its characters, although I wish I owned Peter...
Anyhoo...forgive me if I messed up, my head's usually in the clouds...
I. Red Morning Light
"Broke through barriers
and passed a state of mind
I'm not scared no more
it feels divine"
It was 5:30 in the morning. The May sun was beginning to hit his window in the perfect angle, allowing a soft, warm light in, filling the up until now dark room. It was the first time in years she had not woken up to the buzz of her phone; this time, the reason that caused her to open her eyes was something else entirely, it was blissful, enchanting.
His bed was really small, but she could not have said that she was uncomfortable in it, not at all; his warm skin pulled flush against her felt so good it was addictive. He was sound asleep, a small and almost imperceptible grin on his lips. His facial muscles seemed so relaxed; his face looked angelic, peaceful; the sometimes harsh expression on it had dissipated, and with it had the pain, and the angst. His hair looked messy, unarranged, in a way she thought it was cute. Peter had always had this polished look, always well-groomed; his pants, while usually nothing special really, but just jeans, were always a perfect fit, his button up shirt religiously tucked in them, and the lovely leather brown shoes, the ones you do not see many young men on these days, completing his look. But there he was now, vulnerable, naked underneath the sheets, his infinite arms around her small waist, let go of any concern or tie that could hold him back.
It was hard for her to believe how much she actually needed this, how much she needed him, his legs tangling with hers, his hands all over her body, literally everywhere, pulling her closer, a strong and dominant grip that at the same time felt sweeter than honey; his mouth inches away from hers, his breath a constant plea she could not ignore. He was finally hers and no one else's. And she was, as always, his, forever his.
She had considered getting back to sleep, but found it impossible. Her mind kept revisiting the night before, and the only thought of it was enough to raise her heart rate, enough to keep her eyes wide open and her brain drowning into a sea of emotions. For the first time in years, she had the chance to sleep in, and her mind was playing her tricks.
Letting go of his grip and softly placing his arms on the mattress, careful not to wake him up, Olivia sat on the bed first, and then stood up on her bare feet, wrapped in one of the sheets. She bent over and grabbed his MIT shirt, that was tossed on the floor, wrinkled, but probably the easiest and most confortable thing to wear at the time. His shirt was large for her, long enough to cover part of her legs; and it smelled of him, making her want to bury her face in it; it felt like having him wrapped around her, keeping her warm and comfortable. It was infatuation all over again.
The door screeched as she left his room, the wood floors crunching under her feet; her however silent footsteps echoing through the emptiness of the house.
Standing in the kitchen, she placed her hands on the counter, looking down at it, and took a few deep breaths. It was impossible to control it, to slow down, and so it was to hide the ear-to-ear grin that threatened to show every five seconds. Why fight it anyway?
Another door clicked as it swung open. Olivia's smile left her face and she started off as she heard the intruder's footsteps approaching.
"Peter?" Noticing that the lights were on, Walter headed to the kitchen, hoping he would find his son there. "Peter it's me, your father, Walter Bishop…I'm home!"
Olivia sighed loud and deep first, it was nice to know he was not a perpetrator. But then she knew it was worse than that. She was trained to deal with hard, life threatening situations, hostage crises, suicidal bombers, terrorists, but Walter? She was no way prepared for that. She even thought of jumping out the window or hiding under the table, however childish it might sound. Instead she stood there, frozen.
"Agent Dunham, it's so nice to…" Walter noticed her state of undress. "Agent Dunham!" It did not took him long to do the math and realize what was going on.
Olivia, at this point, was blushing, her cheeks red as bricks, or maybe even redder, desperately looking around for a place to hide.
"I see you and Peter worked things out! I'm so glad for you! Have you been safe?" Walter saw the look of discomfort taking over her face.
"Good morning to you too, Walter"
"Do you want me to make a special breakfast for you two? You're gonna need a more adequate diet now, one that'd fulfill your new caloric needs. What about some brownies? It's another Bishop specialty, I'm not telling you what the secret ingredient is, but I'm sure you two would enjoy it!"
"No, thanks Walter, I think I'll pass" Olivia wanted to be swallowed by the ground. "Do you…mind if I go back to sleep?"
"Sure, sure…and uh…please don't be shy, I have ear plugs" Olivia rolled her eyes and almost broke into laughter at the man's words, as she left the kitchen and headed upstairs, leaving a cheerful, dancing Walter behind.
Her step was almost feline, inaudible, and her moves so delicate. She closed the door after her, again, careful not to wake him up, and turned to the bed, to see that he was now awake. His eyes opened lightly at the sight of her, and a big smile graced his face. She looked unbelievably adorable in his shirt.
"Hey there" She walked towards the bed and leaned over to kiss him.
"Good morning" He softly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to the bed. Now on top of him, her legs straddling his lap, she kissed him again deeply, and he let go, rolling them over so that she was on her back and he was on top of her now. She smiled in the kiss and let out a playful giggle. He pulled away from her for a second and smiled at her.
"Walter's home" She said, much to his disappointment. "But don't worry, he said he had ear plugs, his words", she laughed.
"Oh come on!" He rolled off and lay on his side, trying not to fall off the single bed. "He really said that to you?" He paused "What am I asking? Of course he did!... When not?"
"Yeah, he also offered to make us a special breakfast to satisfy our new energetic needs" He frowned, and after a small pause she continued. "I thought he was spending the night at the lab making root beer…"
"…cause the night inspires him, yes, but I guess since the sun rose already it's not the night anymore…", he groaned. "I'm sorry about my father. But don't worry the man's probably unconscious by now"
She made some room so he could lie on his back and moved closer, burying her face in his chest, half her body over him, her right leg tangling with his and her fingers softly and playfully tracing patterns on his skin. He kissed her forehead. "So… where are the psychos and the killers today?"
"They decided to sleep in and give us a break", she teased, following his game. "This might be our first and only day off in ages…What do you think we should do?"
"Whatever we do can we please do it at your place?" He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back with one hand.
"You got it…", and as soon as she finished the last word they heard her cellphone buzz from across the room, and then his, joining hers.
"Somehow I'm willing to do the things you want"
The case was closed and Broyles met up with Olivia, Peter and Walter outside an old warehouse where the killer had been hiding and conducting a series of rare experiments, and also where they caught him.
The day went on smoothly. Walter's brain seemed lighted up, his ideas were sharp and the solutions he provided accurate; and Peter and Olivia worked it better than ever, giving a whole new meaning to the term "teamwork". Broyles dismissed all his agents, and gave a special satisfactory smile to his Fringe Team letting them know they could now call it a night. The crowd spread. Peter whispered something in Olivia's ear, some sweet words that made her grin and let out a giggle, and headed to where his father's old Sedan was parked. Walter was standing next to it, waiting for his son -who kept the keys since the last time his father took it without telling anyone, and ended up crashing it into a tree- to open the locked doors so they could leave. Olivia walked straight towards her car, still smiling and probably thinking about whatever it was that Peter suggested.
"Yes, Walter, you can have strawberry milkshake…", he answered, smirking, believing that he knew his father far too well enough to know exactly what he was thinking.
"That's fantastic news! But I was wondering…do you think we should invite Olivia over for a few drinks? I know she enjoys whiskey."
"No, Walter, what's…", but he did not let his son finish.
"Agent Dunham!" Walter was yelling from across the lot, causing her to start off her feet.
Olivia shook her head as she walked towards the Sedan, where she joined Walter and Peter.
"What is it Walter?"
"Olivia don't listen to him, he's just..." Once again, Walter cut him off.
"Would you like to come by our house later? There's something important I need to show you, it's related to the case. I think you may be interested."
"Sure, Walter", she gave Peter, who was desperately waving his head in disagreement, a shy smile. "I'll follow you."
Peter parked his car first, and both him and his father got off; Walter walked fast towards the doorway and made his way inside the house in no time, and Peter waited for Olivia, who showed up minutes later.
"Where's Walter?", she acted surprised when she saw him nowhere around, and then planted a kiss on his lips.
"Well I guess now you know what his plan was…"
"I always knew"
"Then why? … What about hanging out at your place? Remember this morning?"
"Come on, it'll be fun." She grabbed his wrist and led him inside his house.
Peter was completely out of focus. What was going on? Wasn't this morning embarrassing enough?
Olivia took her coat off, and tossed it on the couch; Peter knew his father was upstairs somewhere, probably hiding in the closet, or locked up in his room, and honestly, it was the only thing that was holding him back, but he could not help but to place his hands on her sides, and kiss her playfully, almost innocently, making her smile in the kiss, giggles echoing through the room, the only sound but their footsteps. Their moves were almost choreographed, in perfect synchrony; they were almost dancing, without being able to take their hands off each other. Both their bodies seemed to be just one.
Olivia broke the kiss, however, and headed to the kitchen, holding his hand and leading him to where she was going. She let go of his hand and opened his fridge.
"See what we got here…"
"What, you can cook too?" He asked, in complete astonishment. The woman standing next to him was perfect in every way possible.
"Well you're gonna help me".
The truth is that she needed no help. Unlike her sister, she was good in the kitchen, or at least decent. But this was something she had never had, the chance to spend some quality time with the man she loved. It felt special, to do nothing but cook a simple meal, something maybe completely ordinary to the eyes of others, but something she had never experienced due to the secrecy of her past relationships.
Walter was lying on his bed reciting the chemical composition of his favorite drinks, when he heard noises come from what he thought it was the kitchen, and noticed that the air began to smell like chili. He led himself downstairs, following the delicious smell, and found them there, laughing, hugging occasionally, Olivia holding out a spoon of the red sauce for him to give it a taste, Peter regularly checking on the pasta.
"Hey Walter, we're almost ready for dinner" Peter noticed his father standing there.
"Oh, oh great!" Walter was excited, he did not know they were counting him in; in fact, he was pretty sure he was being inopportune and unwanted there. But Peter's words encouraged him to come up with one of his not-that-wacky-anymore ideas. "Do you want some of my secret ingredient? I still have some left. I was gonna use it on the brownies but then…"
"Walter, you know what, the pasta's not ready just yet, why don't you go watch TV and we'll call you back when it's time OK?
"Oh, fine. And Peter?…what channel's Sponge Bob on?"
"Nickelodeon!" Peter looked away from Olivia to keep an eye on Walter as he sat on the couch and turned the TV on; seconds later he heard him laugh at the cartoons.
Olivia had drained the pasta and was stirring the chili when he came from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, trailing soft kisses down her neck, holding her tight, swaying their bodies slightly.
"Hmm", she smiled and let out that sound.
"What is it? Peter asked, not sure what she meant by "Hmm"
"Remember yesterday? When you said that it was beautiful, you and me?"
"Yes" He replied
"Well now I know what it feels like…"
I should really really thank Vlada for helping me get rid of the short forms!!!!
A/N I'm not the best writer and I know it...but whatev!