A/N: So, this is how this works. For every episode, I'm going to write a 'What if" scenario that branches off from a point in the episode and takes it to a more racy path. I mean, we could always use some more make-out sessions and what no. Some of them will be short and others, long. Some will be K+ and others will be M and I'll make sure to warn you at the start of each chapter. So without further ado…

Episode 1: Sweetheart

Rated: K+

"Call me 'sweetheart' one more time; I'd really like that," she nearly growled.

The first thing that popped into Peter's head was that he needed to call her sweetheart at least one more time, if not a dozen more times. Something about her made him want to piss her off. She hadn't given him in option in coming here so he would have to release his father, so he didn't want to make her life any easier than it was at the moment. His penchant for playing with fire was about to get him burned again, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Stepping with in inches of her he whispered so only she could here, "thanks again… sweetheart."

He never made it even half a step before his arm was being twisted and locked so his face came with in a foot of the ground and he couldn't move with out her breaking his arm.

"What was that?" She said, in almost a normal tone. He wouldn't have been able to tell she had someone in locked position if he hadn't been the one in it.

"What part couldn't you hear? The 'thanks' or the 'sweetheart'?" With dizzying speed he was being turned and jerked upwards so his front collided with the hallway wall. He bit back the groan that fought to escape his lips. He was definitely going to have a bruise on the side of his face tomorrow. It took until that moment for him to rethink his nickname for her. "Would you prefer 'honey' or 'cupcake'?"

She must've been shocked that he said anything at all and her grip loosened for just a second and he was able to get the upper hand and twisted back so that her back was pressed to the wall and his front was just millimeters from hers. Her eyes grew wide as saucers as she absorbed their new position.

Before that look could change back to the cold FBI agent face, his head dipped down just slightly and his lips captured hers. He wasn't sure where it had come from or why his body seemed to be on autopilot, but it was and it happened. Her lips were unmoving, but open slightly in shock and took that moment to gently run his tongue along her lower lip and that's when she responded.

Olivia would never be able to explain why she did it, but she kissed the arrogant jerk back. Clearly, she must've been overworked and stressed, because she couldn't think of a single reason as to why her lips were moving against his. Her tongue was in his mouth waging a battle with his own.

Off in the distance, an orderly must've dropped something and the noise brought her roughly back to reality.

John.

He loved her. And she loved him.

So why was she making out with this man that she had just met the other day?

She pushed roughly against his chest and glared daggers at him. As if it were his fault that she responded like putty in his hands. He looked so confused for a moment before cold understanding kicked in and his eyes hardened. Squaring his shoulders he took a deep breath and let it out. With out even looking in her direction he walked down the hall that would lead him to his estranged father.