Chemical X

Disclaimer: I do not own, with much regret, the agents which this story portrays; which is why I can allow them to get a bit frisky, creative license is truly a wonderful thing!

Summary: It might be the key ingredient to creating the powerpuff girls; but Chemical X has other amazing powers as well; like getting our two favorite contaminated Fringlets locked up together in a CDC containment bunker. PWP? Lnz this one is for you!

This stories chapters were titled in the style of Arthur Gail Carriger, who never fails to crack me up with her witty labels and writing style.

As always feedback is appreciated, good and bad; let me know if I've succeeded in scratching that itch and I'm apt to do it again!

Chapter One

In which our dashing agents get exposed;

In more ways than one.

In hindsight it was probably not the best idea, in fact it wasn't something that even resembled a good idea at all, it was a very, very bad idea the results of which Olivia was certain she would never live down.

And if Olivia had known in advance how the night's events would unfold into the debacle she now found herself entangled in she undoubtedly would have stayed home and hidden under her bed instead of answering that phone call.

Fortunately for us, Foresight, or Premonition was not one of Olivia's Cortexiphan induced gifts.

Coupled with the fact that both she and her equally unfortunate partner FBI civilian consultant Peter Bishop lacked any sense of caution when in hot pursuit of a lead or suspect, they ended up landing themselves into the thickly muddled jurisdiction of the CDC; While going above and beyond the typical call of duty, in true Fringe style, in managing to simultaneously pissing off someone with quite a bit of leverage within the government.

Whether that person was related in some way to their current investigation and that was what had rankled or if it was just a case of stepping on the wrong person's metaphorical toes Olivia couldn't be sure.

Whichever it was at this point hardly mattered Olivia would later reflect as she and Peter were now firmly tied up in red tape, so to speak, and incapable of doing anything about it.


Olivia and Peter emerged from the back of the windowless van outside of a gigantic building labeled 'Center for Disease Control Research and Development'.

The plan nondescript building looked somehow more menacing with the hazmat suits that surrounded them and the automatic weapon that was currently following their every move.

All attempts to explain that they were FBI agents or to show anyone her badge or his credentials had been dutifully ignored.

Feeling utterly ridiculous, with being covered from nearly head to toe in some non-descript sticky liquid a whole tank of which had been dumped onto them by their fleeing suspect in an attempt to slow their pursuit; which had worked beautifully seeing as the building's security system was set off when the suspect entered the lab. Further compounded when the security immediately contacted the CDC once they realized that several containers had been busted, sealing both agents in the room until the Calvary arrived.

And seeing as Said Calvary was now ushering both agents into the CDC building and NOT pursuing the missing suspect it had worked perfectly in his favor.

Olivia and Peter were both hustled into a decontamination room with large drains in the floor, several of the hazmat suited associates departed at this point leaving four behind.


"You have got to be kidding me!" Peter's outburst was apparently not taken well as the first suited individual turned a large gauge hose in his direction, blasting him full on in the face and chest with a large stream of water. The man sprayed him for about 30 seconds then stopped leaving him to sputter and cough, dripping now more than he had been when they entered the room.

"Strip Please, your clothing has been contaminated and needs to be destroyed," It seemed suit number two was feeling a bit more chatty, hell they'd even gotten a please.

Of course this politeness was negated by the fact that he too was reaching for a hose.

"Oh well, since you said Please!" These earned Peter the hose again.

Knowing a bit about decontamination protocol Olivia came to the conclusion that like it or not there was no way around this; and if the CDC were in such a fit over whatever it was all over them then she figured it was in her best interest to get it as far away from her person as possible.

She would just try to ignore the fact that she was about to bare-it-all to a bunch of CDC suits, and worst of all to Peter, who was really the far more embarrassing of this equation.

Not that it should matter to him, having seen her multiple times in the early days of their partnership not only in her underpants but also wet, and high, and in all other kinds of awkward and blush inducing predicaments.

She'd mustered her way through those situations, and she could do the same now.

Of course back then she hadn't been hiding the same feelings towards her Partner that she was now; in fact if she had felt then, the way she did now about Peter Bishop; Olivia was certain she would have turned tail and run the second she laid eyes on him in Iraq.

Seeing as how arguing was getting Peter nowhere, and was undoubtedly going to do the same for her; Olivia began quickly removing items of clothing. Shoes, jacket, shirt, tank-top, she hesitated a moment on the pants sucking in a breath to steel her nerves. Trying to convince herself that this was no different than wearing a bikini really, no big deal, just wearing a bikini in front of a bunch of CDC goons as they blasted her with hoses of what was certainly, judging by Peter's reaction, very cold water.

This is probably some spring break fantasy filmed for MTV, a wet-t-shirt contest in the extreme.

She made the mistake of looking at Peter out of the corner of her eye; he stood dripping water and goo onto the floor, he stood stock still; frozen in place, eyes fixed on her mouth slightly agape.

"Oh just do it Peter,"

Peters jaw clenched like he wanted to argue more, but seeing as he wasn't getting anywhere, a fact he was painfully aware of, and he was also aware that whatever substance they were currently drenched in could possibly produce a far worse fate then death by embarrassment.

Peter quickly followed suit, losing the t-shirt, shoes and jeans as Olivia tossed her pants and the rest of her clothes towards hazmat number three who was holding a large red bag; obviously to collect their clothing in; and most likely Olivia reasoned to be incinerated and never seen again.

"All of it!"

Olivia balked for a moment. Staring at hazmat one in stunned disbelief trying to ascertain if this was what passed for CDC humor. Judging by the grim set of his mouth through the tiny window of his hazmat suit he was hardly the joking type.

Right. Just get it over with.

Olivia decidedly not looking at Peter-or at anyone else for that matter quickly shucked the rest of her clothing and tossed it towards the red bag, missing by quite a bit of distance; not that it mattered as the hazmat suit quickly hustled forward to discard her last remaining articles of clothing into the bag and snatching up Peter's clothes as well.

Olivia had barely a second to steel herself before the water hit her, and it was indeed cold; bitterly so. The steady stream from two separate hoses trained on her front and back blasting every inch of her with what seemed a never ending assault of frigid water. Till her teeth were chattering and her skin was peaked with gooseflesh, the pounding jet of water becoming almost painful against her skin.

Olivia didn't dare protest, knowing it would do little good, she just grit her teeth and did her best to make sure the torrent flow of ice cold water rinsed every inch of skin she had.

After what felt like hours but was in reality about 10 minutes the water stopped leaving them shivering and soaked to the bone. Hair plastered to their faces and all trace of the liquid goo gone from their skin and the floor they were instructed into the next room, where another hazmat supplied them with soap and showers, which gloriously after the last room had the added benefit of hot water, but did not have the civility of shower curtains or doors, making Olivia relive the horrors of high school gym class where girls were terrified to shower lest they be teased or judged by their peers for their body.

Not that Olivia had anything to be ashamed of, and this was hardly the time nor the place to dwell on such misgivings. Back ramrod straight and still making every effort not to look at Peter, or even acknowledge his presence; Olivia proceeded to the shower designated by the white hazmat suit, and with gruff instructions to shower until the water shut off and then proceed to the locker room beyond for fresh clothing they were left alone.

Peter would have preferred to pick any of the other shower spouts throughout the room; preferably one behind Olivia and facing the opposite direction so that he didn't open himself up to further harm today by getting caught ogling her naked body.

Sure Peter had seen Olivia in various states of undress before; but never before displayed in all her glory, naked and wet, the cold water of their first 'shower' having an appreciable effect on her hard pebbled nipples. And though she seemed to being doing her best to ignore him, and his very presence Peter was having a terrible time offering her the same consideration.

The temptation was just too much, and while he tried, he really did to keep his eyes to himself he knew he was failing because every time he closed his eyes to let the hot water rinse the soap from his hair and face he saw her naked image burned into the back of his retinas.

Olivia methodically soaped and rinsed, soaped and rinsed, keeping an eye on the timer affixed to the wall near her shower spout ticking down the minutes till this particular horror was over.

She was well aware of Peter's body next to hers, naked and wet she didn't need to turn her head to picture the soap sliding down his chest and abdomen, lower and lower…her brain was already overloading her imagination with sinfully delicious images, she hardly needed to turn her head and multiply her problem by taking in the real thing.

When the timer finally ran down Olivia had used so much soap she was certain she'd taken off a few layers of skin. Her arms and belly were red a combination, she hoped, of the cold water, then rough soaping and subsequent blasting heat she'd pelted herself with and not some reaction to whatever goo it was they were splattered with earlier.

Unable to resist any longer she turned her head just a fraction towards Peter to find that he'd been caught with soap still in his hair, and running down his face and unable to help the grin that formed she stepped forward to turn his shower back on for another 2 minutes. Then whirling on her heel she beat a hasty retreat towards the waiting locker room and hopefully fresh clothes.