Here it is. The last chapter of my very first multi-chapter story!
I want to thank everyone who took the time to review the previous chapters-it means alot to me.
This chapter is dedicated to IWasHereMomentsAgo who encouraged me all the way.
This chapter is for Bolivia fans -think poisitive.
And infinte thanks to Zaedah my beta for all her help.
Again, I do not own anything having to do with "Fringe." I just like to obsess over the characters.
Olivia wanted some moments of solitude, but she got something else.
Olivia knew she shouldn't be out for a run at this hour, but she also knew that sleep was futile.
Her feet pounded the Brighton sidewalks but her mind was elsewhere.
Did Peter Bishop really want her or had she made it so?Olivia knew what she wanted to believe.
She knew without doubt that she cared for him. More than she wanted to. More than she had a right to.
She was, after all, 'damaged goods.' And she had firsthand experience that romantic involvement with a co-worker did not bode well. And yet, Peter was the complete package:intelligent, handsome, funny, sexy...but not safe. And we're back to that, she thought with an exaggerated exhalation.
Olivia abruptly stopped running and glanced up, shocked to see where her feet had taken her.
In front of her was the bench. Her bench. Her thinking spot. Her place of solitude when she needed to clear her head and lick her wounds. She shouldn't have been surprised at all. Olivia had come here after John died and many times after that. Still panting from her run, Olivia plopped down onto the wooden seat and looked forward to solace and a change of scenery.
Olivia took her head in her hands. And this was where Peter had touched her hand with his.
Just don't think about him for a moment! Her brain yelled and she concentrated on a cleansing breath.
With her eyes pinched shut Olivia focused on the early morning sounds of Boston Common and tried to immerse herself in the moment. After a few minutes her heart rate slowed and her breathing became more regular.
"Fancy meeting you here Livia, are you alright?"
Olivia Dunham was sure she was having an auditory hallucination. Just to be sure she looked up and was flabbergasted to see Peter Bishop in his navy peacoat, removing his ear buds and looking down at her with worry on his face.
What's that in his eyes? Olivia thought to herself, Fear? Arousal? Olivia straightened herself as Peter sat down close to her on the bench. She tried to think of a witty retort but all forms of conscious thought flew out of her brain as she locked upon his intense green eyes.
Peter gave Olivia a cautious smile. "What are you doing here?" He asked her concernedly, trying to disguise his delight in being next to her again.
"I-I couldn't sleep," Olivia replied.
"Neither could I," Peter blurted out, surprised at his truthful admission.
In a single moment his thoughts took a one hundred eighty degree turn. Sure he could tease her, torture her, and make her squirm tonight. He had become agitated the moment he spotted her on the bench. But the confusion in her eyes quickly calmed him. All he wanted to do now was to be her knight in distressed armor , the man for whom she would wade into a saltwater-filled tank to save. Instantly he recalled the feel of her under him shoved up against the sewer wall, all soft and warm, and he yearned to feel her again.
Without thinking Peter grabbed one of Olivia's hands. "Come on. You need some sleep. I'll walk you home."
Olivia knew she should have refused his offer and run home but that thought never made it to her lips.
Silently she let him help her off the bench, her hand lingering in his.
After they walked a few feet away from the bench Olivia regrettably slipped her hand out of Peter's but kept it close to his as they headed toward her home. Along the route they made comfortable small talk, laughing occasionally at Walter's latest predilections for certain foods.
Peter made no mention to Olivia of the video he had viewed a few hours ago in the supply closet.
He was exceedingly happy walking next to her knowing not only that he had helped to relax her a bit since he spotted her on the bench, but also that she clearly had feelings for him. For Peter, the moment was like a dream, and for the first time in his entire life he truly felt at peace.
Together they walked up the steps of her brownstone, well-lit by that one small outdoor security light. On the landing Peter turned and gazed down into Olivia's emerald eyes, mesmerized by the emotion he thought he saw there. No playing, the voice in his head told him. Not tonight.
"Well, I should go," Olivia said feeling calmer than thirty minutes previously.
"Good night, Livia," Peter said giving her a loving smile. "Sweet dreams."
"Good night, Peter," Olivia returned, her voice sounding like a shy school girl. As Peter turned to leave Olivia realized she wanted to prolong the moment as long as she could, craving his presence.
"Peter?" At Olivia's breathy tone Peter whipped his head around and gave her his undivided attention, his hand poised on the handrail.
"Thanks for walking me home." Olivia boldly took two steps forward. Standing on tiptoe Olivia attempted to place a gentle kiss on Peter's cheek. At the last second Peter turned his head and Olivia's featherlight kiss landed on his lips instead.
Peter heard and felt Olivia's little gasp as their lips made contact for the very first time. They froze there for a moment and then his hands gently cradled her face and her arms wrapped around his waist pulling him closer. They kissed delicately at first. Then Peter's tongue stroked her lower lip begging for admittance. Not missing a beat Olivia opened her mouth to him, and the world stopped.
The gentle union of mouths and tongues soon turned tumultuous.
Gasping for air Peter reluctantly pulled away from Olivia and smiled down at her.
His body was tingling all over. He's never been kissed like that before, ever.
"Good night, Livia." Peter laughed the words out and gave her his widest smile yet.
"Good night, Peter," Olivia managed to get out, still in disbelief of what had just happened.
Peter had made it down to the fourth step when he heard Olivia's excited voice.
"So I'll see you later then?"
Holding the railing with one hand Peter still managed to spin around and face Olivia.
He turned back and continued his descent down the stairs.
Olivia cocked her head and measured his words, suddenly realizing why they sounded so desperately familiar. There's no way... She turned and retrieved her key from her sock.. As she unlocked her front door and entered her house Olivia thought of her magic eight ball and wondered where it fit into the pattern of things.
Peter stepped off the last step onto the sidewalk and turned his head to get one more glimpse of Olivia Dunham. He was only slightly disappointed that he couldn't see her face and read her expression when his words finally registered. With a chuckle Peter pointed himself in the direction of the BU bridge.
Sure, she got it, he said to himself. Many city blocks later, Peter realized that Olivia's piece of plastic was correct. He did want her. To be with him. Always.