A/N- I'll keep this short and sweet. My first Fringe fanfiction. It's nearly 5am, and I have morning classes, so be nice. (Kidding, i like criticism). I'm iffy on the time frame for this little oneshot, I think with a stretch it could fit in almost any season, though I was sort of aiming it for after 6B. ...I'm a little rusty with this writing thing...Points to those who can place the lyrics at the end. Thanks for reading.
It was late nights like these that Olivia hated most.
Most nights she wouldn't sleep until late anyway. She couldn't shut her mind off during a case. There were always things that came to her while she lay awake. Things she needed to remember for the next day, a detail she might have overlooked earlier; check and recheck everything.
However, tonight was different. Different in that, she wasn't in bed completely awake at 2am thinking over evidence reports or witness statements. She was awake because of the anxious feeling gnawing at her gut. She was awake because her heart just wouldn't seem to slow down.
She turned to the clock beside her bed for the umpteenth time, letting out an anxious breath when she saw the time 2:14 am. Shit.
She got up, put some yoga pants on, a plain black shirt she usually wore to the grocery store on Sundays and put her hair in the usual ponytail low on her head.
She shoved her old comfy pyjama pants back into their drawer, along with the oversized North western t-shirt she had on.
Her emotions were in a weird place, and she knew the moment he looked at her he would know something was up, as if he hadn't gathered that from the phone call chalk full of awkward pauses and hesitant sighs. She changed to something that made her feel on some sort of equal ground with him. This vulnerability thing had her on edge even more.
She walked quietly into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. Leaning backwards against the countertop, she pressed the side of cool glass to her lips and shut her eyes.
"Hey, it's me, what are you up to?"
"Uh, nothing, just got in- was in the office finishing up some old reports for Broyles. Since it's been quiet for the past few days we're finally caught up on paperwork," she explained formally.
"Joy," he laughed, she heard his stubble brush across the phone.
She smiled, offering a, "yeah."
She heard his tone shift before he spoke, "What's wrong? "His tone was quieter now. She could picture his brows turning in, questioning… concerned.
"Nothing," she answered all too quickly.
"…Olivia," he warned. They were trying this. For real. She was supposed to be trying. She was. Today was just…
"I know, I'm sorry", She said, as sincerely as she could. She meant it. She was sorry. She was sorry she couldn't offer all of what Peter deserved. She was sorry she couldn't ask for his help when she needed it.
He sighed into the phone, "It's alright".
There was a pause, a pause where she wished she could reach through the phone and hug him, rest her forehead on his chest for a minute; feel sheltered by his frame.
"Do you want me to come over?" He asked, like he'd been swishing the phrase around in his mouth a while before he said it.
"Peter… you don't have to. It's late."
"Liv," he rarely called her that, it made her heart skip a beat, "Do you want me to come over?"
She paused, biting at her lip. She let out a breath as if to say something, but before she could he spoke, "too late. I'm on my way; I'll be there around 20' after."
And he hung up.
Her eyes snapped open; she set the water glass down. Deep breath, walk towards the door.
There he was, in his pea coat, with his scarf tied around his neck, stubble peppered in usual form on his face. His eyes looked dark as he looked down at her from where he leaned against the door frame.
She felt an immediate rush of both relief and adrenaline at the sight of him.
"Hi," she smiled, stepping aside for him to walk in.
"Hey," he smiled back, looking into her eyes once again.
She looked straight back for a minute, before she couldn't stand how he looked like he saw right through her.
"Do you want some water?" She asked, stepping towards the counter where her full cup resided.
"No, I'm okay." He smiled at her again, his hands in his coat pockets as he watched her struggle.
"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you? Or do you want to talk about the weather?"
She giggled, actually laughed, genuinely since…. Since well the last time she saw Peter a few days ago.
Her smile faded slightly, but she kept it up at the corners, "Just, one of those days you know? Cases have been slow and everything's just catching up with me I guess." She took a sip of her water.
He knew the weight of everything, how it felt. Still he narrowed his eyes at her and asked, "everything?"
That was just about the hardest question he could've asked her. Yes, everything. So many things and nothing all at once.
"I don't know… Yes, everything. And I'm just so tired; I don't even know where to start."
He stepped closer to her, saying one thing he'd said to her many times before, "You just need to calm down, let your mind rest for a few hours," he ghosted his hands under her elbows, close but not too close.
She didn't look up at him yet, she cleared her throat, "I can't. I don't know how."
This time she looked up at him, letting the vulnerability happen as she took in his reaction. His reaction to her need.
His mouth gathered to one side as he looked right back at her, simply and placed his hands on either side of her face. "That's what I'm here for".
She felt the moisture gather in the corners of her eyes, though she looked down to the buttons on his jacket before he could see.
She undid the buttons, one by one and then slid her arms under his and around his back, placing the side of her face to his chest. She breathed him in.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pressing his palm gently on the back of her head. He let his eyes close as he kissed the top of her head, taking in her scent, surrounding himself with her.
She felt safe, she felt calm; there in his warmth.
It's not always easy, when the winter comes and the greenery goes, we will make some shelter.