InsaneJournal

Who: Peter and Olivia.
What: A very important and serious conversation. And then they make out.
Where: Their apartment.
When: Evening.
Rating / Status: PG / Complete.

Since she'd arrived in Las Vegas, Olivia had been distracted. Being kidnapped by some nondescript, secretive corporation with the ability to turn people into children like that could have that effect. Between the stress and the general confusion, Olivia had noticed that the strange glimmer that had been so evident on Peter had faded until it was almost completely invisible. She was grateful for that; on the first night she'd seen it she could hardly look at him. She figured it had been a small miracle that he hadn't figured out something was wrong, or if he had, that he hadn't asked about it. Between the glimmer fading and the fact that she and Peter had been corresponding through the network, she'd almost allowed herself to forget all about it. That was why she'd agreed to go to dinner with him.

Things had gone pretty well at the beginning, and they'd made it almost all the way through dinner without incident, but then the thought that this whole Vegas thing was temporary, or somehow unreal had occurred to her. She was normally very good at regulating her emotions (it was kind of her thing), but that one thought had sparked something, and the glimmer began to return, and that just scared her even more. She had spent the rest of the evening thus far either looking at him very intently (though she was not observing the details of his face so much as trying to locate the edge of the ever-shifting aura) or not looking at him at all, and she'd grown quieter. She knew the hope that she'd be able to put this behind her had been an impractical one and she'd have to tell him sooner or later. Probably sooner.

Now they were strolling down a sidewalk in the city; it was early evening and a little cold but altogether a nice night. She was very wrapped up in her own thoughts and was looking at her feet as they walked, though she should still see him in her peripheral vision. The silence was vaguely uncomfortable and she knew she should say something, but she didn't know what to say, so she settled for a simple statement of, "It's a nice night." before looking up at him briefly.

Peter was oblivious to the truth about himself and the reason why Olivia was being so strange. That wasn't to say that he was oblivious to the fact that she was being so strange, he was a genius after all and good at noticing things about people, but he didn't know the cause for it. It was driving him nuts, trying to figure out what it was that was bothering her, but for the life of him he couldn't work it out. And, on top of that, they were stuck in some parallel Las Vegas, people were randomly turning younger or older or Swedish, and his father had probably found a way to completely destroy the space-time continuum back home using only his damned cow. So, the point was, Peter had decided to just stop thinking about it. Dwelling on the problem wasn't going to change anything and he might as well make the best of this really weird vacation.

So, he'd asked Olivia to dinner. There was something there between them, even if life kept getting in the way of that, and maybe this was a chance to do something about that. He'd thought that maybe something was going to happen in the lab after they'd returned from Jacksonville, and then again when all was said and done, but so far fate seemed to be conspiring against them. Even tonight, Olivia had been distracted and clearly bothered by something. As much as Peter wanted to ask her what it was, he respected her and he knew she would tell him when she was ready. He just wished she could be ready sooner. This confusion and distance was wearing on him. As they walked along, he glanced over now and again, noting the way she was both there and somewhere else entirely. Impulsively, he reached over and took her hand as she spoke, as if hoping to ground her in the moment. "It is," he agreed. "Planning on staying here, or going back to wherever it was you were in there?"

Olivia had a lot of defense mechanisms. That was just the way she worked; she was a guarded person. She didn't tend to let people get close to her because in her experience she always ended up getting hurt - and this whole situation basically had a neon sign on it that said 'this will not end well for you'. She couldn't disregard it. She had to deal with it. And, right now, dealing with it involved mentally mapping out as many different paths the inevitable conversation could possibly take, although she couldn't ever quite predict what his reaction would be.

When he took her hand it shook her out of her reverie. She wasn't a particularly physical person but the gesture was still oddly comforting to her. She looked up at him again as he spoke, a slightly pained look crossing her face. "Sorry," She said in a genuinely apologetic tone (because she was sorry, for a lot of things). "I guess I'm just a little out of it tonight," she added. It wasn't exactly a lie, she reflected as she looked down at their intertwined hands and the strange way they glimmered.

Peter gave Olivia a small smile and shrugged. "Hey," he teased, "I get it. I'm sure you could find much more exciting company right now. I'll just be flattered that you're settling for me." His smile faded into a serious expression and he squeezed her hand gently in an attempt at comfort. "It's okay, Liv," he said. "This situation...is a lot weirder than what we're used to. It makes sense that you're a little out of it." Except that she'd been out of it before that. But he wasn't going to call her on that right now, on a sidewalk in Las Vegas.

"I wouldn't worry too much though," he assured her. "If anyone can sort this out, it's Walter. I know you have your problems with him, and I get why, but he is the best person to have trying to get us back. We just have to hope he doesn't get distracted by something and forget all about us." And hope that he was able to stay mostly coherent without him there as a stabilizing influence. Peter worried a lot about how his father was doing without him, even though he would never admit it. "It'll all work out in the end. And, hey, we have each other. And that's got to count for something."

Olivia looked down at her feet as she smiled at Peter's reassurances. He was right about the whole Vegas thing; it was a deviation from their usual sort of deviations. Still, she couldn't help but think that she'd much rather be back in Boston investigate yet another gruesome and strange means of death than be trapped here. Things could be worse, she supposed. Peter could have not been there, or been there but younger or Swedish.

Her smile fell involuntarily when he mentioned Walter. She hadn't had time to talk to him before she and Peter had left, and she'd been sort of numb at the time; everything felt like it had happened really quickly. She wasn't sure what to think of Peter's father and what he had done - what he had asked her not to tell Peter. On the She was terrified of him and angry with him and yet she understood why he had done what he had done. She knew Peter was trying to make her feel better, and she knew he was right about Walter finding a way to get them home, but she had so many conflicting emotions that it was hard for her to think about it rationally. She nodded as he spoke - she was glad that he was here, after all, and then lapsed into silence. "Thank you," She said after a moment. "for being here for me."

Peter didn't like the tension between Olivia and Walter. They were both important parts of his life and the idea that things might get to a point where one drove the other away frustrated him. He understood why she was angry with Walter, hell he didn't agree with the things the man had done either, but that was in the past and nothing could change that. Right now they all needed each other, and more than that, he and Olivia had to hope that Walter could pull through and get them home. Until something could be done to get them home though, it was just him and Olivia. And he could think of worse people to be stuck with. "That's what partners are for," Peter said.

"Yeah," Olivia said quietly, a sudden rush of guilt washing over her. She was in a difficult position; she couldn't tell Peter what she knew but she couldn't not tell him either. She was just biding her time right now. She pulled her hand away from his to open the door to the building and moved inside quickly.

Peter wanted to stop her, to ask what was bothering her and why she wouldn't just talk to him about it, but he couldn't do it in the lobby. Instead, he waited until they got back to the apartment and stopped her once they were inside, putting a hand on her shoulder and turning her to face him. "What's going on, Olivia?" he asked. "Something's bothering you and don't tell me it's this place because you were like this before we got here. Talk to me. You can tell me anything." He sighed. "I want to help you, but I can't if you won't tell me what's going on."

Olivia jumped slightly when he touched her shoulder. The walk up to their room had been silent and awkward, so she'd figured she'd get away with hiding in her room for the remainder of the night (not that that was what she wanted, exactly, but it'd be easiest). Turning to face him, she pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to ward off the headache that she felt coming on. She leaned against the wall as she regarded him, unsure what to do. "It's not me," She said after a moment, her stare fixated on him (and the glimmer). "It's you."

Peter was quiet for a long moment, before dropping his hand to his side. "Usually I hear that the other way," he said, "but nobody actually means it when they say 'it's not you, it's me', so points for honesty, if not for softening the blow." He sighed, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry," he continued. "I just thought...well...clearly, I thought wrong. You should have said something before. I'll back off. I can totally back off." Backing off would suck, because Olivia was great, but he could do it for the sake of their partnership.

If she wasn't as set on saying what she was about to say, Olivia might have found some humor in Peter's response. She couldn't, though. She reached out and grabbed his hand by instinct, shaking her head. "No," she said simply, her tone conveying the levity of the statement. "That's not what I meant." She paused a second to gather herself before she continued. "You're from the other world, Peter. I think... I think you died and your father..." She couldn't quite finish her statement. She didn't entirely know what had happened, and she shouldn't've made assumptions, but it wasn't all that hard to piece things together.

Peter stared at her, not sure what to say to that. It was insane. And yes, everything they worked with was insane, but this...he shook his head. "No," he said. "I'm not. Why would you even think that? I mean, I think it's pretty obvious I didn't die. I'm right here. And Walter didn't...he wouldn't-" But he cut himself off. So many little things suddenly made so much sense. "You see it. That thing you see...that thing you saw with the building. You see it when you look at me. That's why..." He took a deep breath and walked over to the window, his back to Olivia.

"There's a lot I don't remember about my childhood," he admitted. "There's things Walter talks about...that are so clear to him...that just aren't there for me. There's things he says that...I know they aren't true. Not for me. And I dreamed...but it was just a dream." He shook his head. It was all just too much. "He told me...when he was looking for his dimensional plug...thing...he said he tried to find a way to the other world to replace something he'd lost...I just didn't think..."

Olivia nodded silently as he came to the realization, frozen in her place. She wanted to move towards him but she also didn't want to chase him off. She felt like he might bolt if she tried to get closer to him. She had been so afraid that he would just run when she told him. Breathing deeply as Peter spoke, she took one step towards him, and then another, until she was just behind him at the window. She reached out to touch his shoulder but her hand hovered slightly above it instead, apprehensive. "Peter, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," She said, not really thinking to offer him platitudes. "I didn't know if I should tell you. Walter asked me not to," She admitted quietly, her expression pained.

"Don't." It was firm and clipped and Peter still wouldn't look at her. "Don't apologize. Don't say you're sorry like it's somehow your fault. It's not. It's..." He was practically vibrating with tension, caught in the middle of fight or flight, the impulse to just leave almost overwhelming. "Walter is my father. He raised me. He...I don't care about why." Except he did. Because he didn't want to be the replacement for some dead son. Some other version of himself who liked custard and probably wouldn't have been such a screw up. Because he knew the reason Walter was the way he was. It was to hide the knowledge of that other world. It was his fault his father was so broken. And he hated himself a little for that. And the part of him that didn't hated Walter a little, because he could have had a normal life in the other world. Or he could have died in a freak accident. There was no way to know.

He finally turned to look at Olivia. "We can't change the past," he told her. "This...this is my life now. Whatever it might have been in that other world, it doesn't matter. This is my life, with Walter. With you." And he couldn't really hate Walter, because he'd met Olivia, and he probably never would have in the other world. Looking Olivia in the eye, he took a calming breath. "I'm not a replacement. I'm not some...stand in for a dead kid. Maybe that's how it started, but I'm not. Not to Walter, and not to you. So stop looking at me like that."

"Peter," She said quietly, still regarding him from a small distance. What he was saying was for the most part a perfectly rational, logical response to what she'd told him, but she wasn't buying it. People weren't logical and rational when they were scared. She knew that. She looked away from him when he asked her to. She wanted to say something, but she knew what it was like. Sometimes it was just easier to deny that things were bothersome than to face them head on. She shrugged vaguely before looking back at him. "Of course you aren't." She said. She wouldn't've even met Peter if it weren't for Walter, she knew that. It was still hard to justify what he'd done.

No, Peter wasn't really reacting rationally or logically, but he couldn't let everything he was feeling out or he didn't think he would come back from it. He was holding on to his composure by the skin of his teeth. and he was afraid of what would happen if he let go. He wasn't exactly the most stable person, growing up with Walter would do that to you (and he shouldn't have grown up with Walter...he should have been a normal, stable guy), and he didn't want Olivia to see him fall apart. He needed Olivia right now, but she'd gone from looking at him like he was wrong somehow to not looking at him at all. And that was somehow worse.

"Hey," he said, stepping forward, bringing his hand up to touch the side of her face and force her to look at him. "Don't do that, Olivia, please. I'm still me. I'm still the same person. This is just...something else. This doesn't change who I am. I'm trying here...but I can't do this without you. I need you, Liv."

Olivia didn't try to look away from him again. She'd been so preoccupied with the implications of the glimmer that she had never really looked at him. And he was right; even though the glimmer was there, he was still the same. Still Peter. She reached out to touch his face. The glimmer was intangible, so as her fingers brushed his cheek it was like everything was normal. Almost.

"I know," She said, taking a step closer to him. "I need you too, and that scares me," She said. She didn't like to admit these things; she didn't like to let down her guard when it came to emotions. She'd just had too many bad experiences. But she trusted Peter in a way she hadn't anticipate she would, which was why she'd been so scared when she'd first seen the glimmer around him.

"You think it doesn't scare me too?" Peter laughed, even as he leaned almost imperceptibly into the touch of her hand. "Olivia, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly the poster child of letting people close." Sure he flirted, and let people think he had let them in, but it wasn't real. But somehow Olivia had got past his barriers and he didn't want to push her away. "Look...I don't know what's going to happen, but we have each other. And as long as we have that, who cares what life throws at us? We can be scared together. How does that sound?"

She was so close, and he found himself reaching over to brush a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers stroking her temple lightly. It was too much temptation not to kiss her right then, so he didn't even try to fight it, and he hoped he hadn't just made a phenomenal mistake.

While it would be the professional and safe thing to do, Olivia did not have the willpower to pull away from him when he kissed her. She might be scared, she might be wary, but mostly she felt alone and lost and she couldn't stand it anymore. She needed to be with him. So after a second she abandoned professionalism, and she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pressed herself against him. And in that moment, it was just them. No evil kidnapping Las Vegas Corporation, no alternate dimensions, no feeling lost.

As she broke the kiss she rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes still closed. "That sounds good." She whispered.

One hand immediately cupped Olivia's jaw as Peter deepened the kiss, wrapping his other arm around her waist. He'd wanted to do this for so long, probably even before he'd actually consciously realized he wanted it. Life had just had a habit of getting in the way. He'd begun to think that supernatural forces were conspiring against him and Olivia. But now it was actually happening, and the reality was so much better than anything he had imagined. And he'd imagined it a lot. What? He was a red-blooded man. Did you expect something else? If you worked with someone like Olivia, you'd probably imagine it at least once a day. Maybe twice.

It was so easy to forget about everything while they were kissing, to forget their current problem and the larger issues they were facing. When they broke the kiss, the hand touching her face dropped to wrap around her shoulders, just holding her against him. He closed his eyes, resting his head against hers, and sighed. "That's what we'll do then," he said quietly.