Author: zeusfluff PM
Peter Bishop is a police officer for Mexico City's Judicial Police Force. Olivia is a school teacher at an English Immersion school. Etta is a normal and happy 5 year-old enjoying a life devoid of Observers. Until September shows up one day with a warning.Rated: Fiction T - English - Crime/Drama - Olivia D. & Peter B. - Chapters: 10 - Words: 14,507 - Reviews: 10 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 8 - Updated: 05-29-13 - Published: 09-21-12 - id: 8545540
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Fringe characters. So no inFRINGEment intended. Date Started: 9/20/12. Date Finished: 9/21/12. Hope you will all enjoy! Thanks! Summary: Peter Bishop has had many identities: College professor, Chemical Engineer, Firefighter, Cargo pilot, an emergency room doctor and many others, but there was one he enjoyed the most, and that was a traffic cop in the biggest city in the world and Etta thinks he's a hero.
It was March 22nd, 2017 and Peter was just starting his first day as a traffic cop for Mexico City's Judiciary Police Force. He'd completed his police training in just a year. This was a somewhat normal path for Peter, and also Olivia and their 5 year old daughter Etta. In this timeline there were no Observers in their way, Olivia was a school teacher and Walter was a scientist who worked on special projects for the Mexican Government. They lived in Lomas de Chapultepec, an upscale neighborhood with beautiful homes.
It was also home to the police forces judiciary compound. Which Peter had unfortunately declined to live in even though everything was paid for, down to the every last penny for their mortgage. He stood now in front of the mirror in the locker room fixing his black tie over his tan police uniform. On each side of the short sleeves was the Eagle from the Mexican flag with the green serpent in its mouth. Around it was the words: Policia Judicial de la Ciudad de Mexico. Judicial Police of Mexico City. Another cop named Armando Garcia slapped Peter playfully on the back and spoke broken English.
"Look good Peter. Vamanos."
Peter smiled at Armando and fixed his tie. It was on the way out of the department that they were given a gun for protection and a whistle to wear around their necks. It was a busy morning in the city, and both Peter and Armando were sent in a squad car to Milpa Alta, a neighborhood with the least amount of people and cars.
They were both equipped with a wire to the ear and were sent in different directions to direct traffic. It was surprisingly cooler in this neighborhood, because of its mountainous region. Peter was having an uneventful day until the traffic light decided to short-out on him. Then the cars began their endless honking, not like they hadn't been already. Peter was pointing to the right, the left, straight behind him all while blowing his whistle.
It was half an hour before the traffic was finally moving. It was now 3:30 and Peter was still trying to keep everything under control. His stomach was protesting at him at every turn now. Traffic was dissipating a little and he managed to radio Armando through his wire.
"Armando! Quieres comer? O que queires?"
(Armando, do you want to eat? Or what do you want?)
Peter's blood ran cold when he didn't hear any answer from the other end of his wire. Adrenaline now pumping through his veins he ran in the direction of Armando. He'd been stationed at the corner of San Antonio and Chapultepec. He didn't stop until he got to Armando's post, only to see his partner lying in a pool of his own blood. There were several bystanders with phones who were calling for an ambulance. 66 was the number to call for emergencies. Peter ripped his short-sleeved uniform shirt from his back and pressed it against the wound in Armando's abdomen. Peter apologized for the pain it was causing him.
"Lo siento mano."
(I'm sorry brother)
All Peter had on now was his white tank top underneath and his tan trousers with the black belt in the loops of the pants, along with his black steel-toed shoes. Armando waved a hand at Peter.
"Estoy bien. Ibas a enseñarme Inglés recuerdas?"
(I'm fine. You were going to teach me English remember?)
Peter smiled, Armando was a fighter like himself and Olivia. Etta was no exception. Peter then used his wire to contact headquarters to report an officer was down.
"Herido oficial! ¿Necesitas ayuda médica!"
(Officer down! Need medical assistance!)
A man came over Peter's wire, Captain Montero.
"Bishop, ¿dónde estás? En la esquina de San Antonio y Chapultepec? Ayuda está en camino."
(Bishop, where are you? On the corner of San Antonio and Chapultepec? Help is coming.)
Peter pressed tighter over Armando's gun-shot wound. He coughed and Peter noticed blood was starting to trickle out of his mouth. He swallowed and spoke to him when his eyes closed.
"Quédate conmigo Armando. Abre tus ojos para mí."
(Stay with me Armando. Open your eyes for me.)
Armando opened his eyes and smiled at Peter. This day had turned into a disaster.
"Daddy! Your home!"
Etta ran into Peter's arms giving him a slight grunt.
"Oof! Etta Jane, you are getting heavy. Have you been sneaking Tortas in the middle of the night again?"
Etta's innocent laugh made Peter feel better. The heaviness in his heart seemed to subsided slightly. Olivia came to join them in the front hallway. She pulled him in for a kiss.
"How was your first day Officer Bishop?"
Peter put Etta down and sent her to her room. Olivia pulled Peter in for a kiss. When she let go, she could see the hurt in his eyes.
"Armando was killed while we were directing traffic in Milpa Alta today. Captain Montero sent us there so that we'd get the experience. He was going to send us to Obregon in a couple of weeks. He died before we could even get to the hospital."
Peter was angry, Olivia could see that, but now she was giving him some space. He went into the kitchen and started chopping the onion Olivia had haphazardly left on the cutting board on the kitchen counter. Even the massage she was giving to his shoulders would no bring his partner back. Little did they know, their happy little world was about to be shattered into a million pieces the very next day.
To Be Continued...
A/N: So, what'd you guys think so far? Let me know! Thanks!