Missing Scene from Bound- Season 1, Episode 11. Wrote this a while back during the winter hiatus after re-watching Season 1 again (again). Constructive criticism & thoughts are appreciated. Thanks!


She fumbled with the key before shoving it into the cold metal trap around her wrist. Releasing the clasp finally, she rubbed furiously around the spot the metal had occupied. Her skin was crawling. She shoved the covers past her feet, feeling a stifling heat advance up her body to her lungs. Harris was a bastard, and she knew it, but she couldn't help the thick, anxious air in her lungs as she leaned her forehead against her hands.

Once she'd let herself panic for a few minutes she straightened up and turned her attention to the drawers in the room. Where were her clothes? She yanked at her IV and made her way down the hall to the nurses' station.

"Excuse me, where are my things?" She asked, beckoning at the first person in scrubs she saw.

"Olivia?" Called a gravelly voice from behind her.

Her brows furrowed at the familiar tone as she spun around. "How- Why are you here?"

"Well its nice to see you too," he smiled sarcastically.

She gave him an apologetic look, her way of saying, "I didn't mean it that way".

"Astrid called me before I got to the lab, this guy Harris informed Broyles that you were 'in custody at the hospital', whatever that's supposed to mean."

Olivia rolled her eyes and huffed past him towards her room. She stopped outside the door realizing, she didn't want to go back in there again.

"Who is this Harris guy anyway?" He called after her.

"He's an ass," she replied curtly, wincing slightly as she sat on one of the chairs by the window.

"Well I got that much. Why did he bring you in like this? Did you do something?" He crouched down, laying the bag in his hands on the floor, and looked at her, their eyes level.

She sat silent for a moment, watching his eyes take in her face. His brows turned in more as he gazed over her injuries, the hint of purple just under her eye.

He looked back at her, as she watched his analysis of her features and she ducked her head before she could see the well-meaning pity in his eyes.

He moved to tilt her chin upwards, but thought better of it and rested his hand on the arm of her chair. Close but not too close.

"What happened?" He asked quietly.

She swallowed, trying to recall the events in order, products of the tranquillizer she assumed.

"These people- I don't know who, almost ran me off the road. So, I got out of my car and I ran. They tranqued me and the next thing I know I'm being wheeled somewhere. All I can see is lights on the ceiling because I was strapped down to this gurney," she shifted in her seat, recalling the events more clearly now.

"They were all in masks, and taking samples and they- they did a spinal tap, Peter," she shifted forward, feeling the hot sting in her lower spine. "What would they possibly need with that?" She searched his eyes hoping he would come up with something MacGyver and nonsensical that would give her some sort of direction.

"I don't know," he said solemnly. "I wish I did."

He watched her stare at the dust her black socks had accumulated from wandering down the hospital hallway.

"Hey," he said, beckoning her to raise her eyes.

She looked at him, the corner of her mouth twitching in.

"We'll figure this out," he gave her shoulder a quick squeeze and stood up, his knees crackling in protest.

"I brought you some clothes to wear out, I'll drive you home and then we can bring this to Walter, okay?" He held the bag out to her, giving her a small smile.

She smiled back, for the first time that day, squeezing the bag close to her chest. "Thank you" she said with a nod.

"I'll be out there when you're ready," he turned to the door.

When Peter entered the room after earning a muffled, "Come in", from Olivia after about 15 minutes, he came bearing cold ice packs.

She was hunched over herself; finishing the last laces on the gargantuan running shoes Peter had supplied her with. He could see the bruise from the spinal tap, hovering over her lower spine like an ominous storm cloud.

She stood up, almost hiding her grimace as she straightened. She hugged his white t-shirt close to her torso as she started towards the door. She couldn't help but revel in the smell of his clothes; a hint of cologne and clean detergent. For a moment she felt sated and comfortable.

He watched her, resume right back to business as she made her way carefully to the door in his running shoes. He couldn't help but enjoy the sight of her in his clothes. She was always so buttoned up, and now with mussed hair and baggy clothes she looked more like the glimpses of Olivia he saw after a good case or while she requested a song from him on the piano.

"'Livia?" He called from behind her.

She turned, a questioning look on her face.

"Here," he slid off his jacket, offering it to her.

"I'm not-"

"-Just take it," he smiled, laughing a little.

She returned the smile, ignoring the flutter in her stomach as she slid her arms into his warmth. She hugged it to her body, feeling warmer at once.

They were greeted on their way out with some release papers, promising that Peter would make sure Olivia took her anti-inflammatory pills, especially before bed. Olivia coughed, but neither corrected the nurse. She assumed the woman's concern had rocketed after she'd pulled out her own IV, and let it pass.

The exited the hospital, and he ignored her small protests, which came in huffs and eye rolls, every time he opened a door for her.

He decided to forgo the car door, let her take her time getting into the car. He knew she hated when anyone watched her falter, even if it was wincing in pain from injuries. He smiled and made his way over to pay for parking.

He ended up recognizing the parking attendant as a student of his back when he was Professor Bishop for a short while. Without giving too much away about how indeed he faked his MIT degree, they shared a few laughs and Peter jogged back to the car.

To his surprise, Olivia was sleeping quietly, her face pressed against the window. He smiled at how she hugged his jacket close to her body. She might have just been cold, but he let himself read a little bit into the action and got in the car quietly.

Rather than head straight to the lab, he drove around for about an hour before sidling the car up to a space in front of her apartment building.

He waits another minute, marveling at how she's still asleep, but not blaming her after the last few days she's had.

He places a hand on her bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze, "'Livia, you're home".