Fourth Time is the Charm - Chapter 8 by Xeen part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 No in FRiNGEment intended. I’m just playing with the characters. Who wouldn't? Note: I know it's been a while and I apologize for the delay. I hope that you'll like it. Change of plan ;) -o-o-o-o-o-o- Olivia was in the shower when she heard her cell ring in the bedroom. What were the odds? She had been expecting her phone to ring for the last hour, checking every five minutes in case she had missed his call and precluding the possibility of calling him instead, longing to hearing his voice if only over the phone and eventually locking herself in procrastination. Trying to brace herself against her newfound discovery, she cleaned the kitchen, tidied her bedroom, vacuumed, read her emails, but it did not go away. She seemed to have suddenly grown a feeling that she had no control upon. The fact that Peter stayed over and helped her with subduing her fears had definitely clicked something irreversible inside her that she was unable to deny any longer. It didn't happen over night, she knew that it had been there for sometime though she refused to acknowledge it. She did not want to get involved with anyone, not right now, but deep down she was already more involved with the young Bishop that she had ever been with anyone else. This was happening so fast and feeling so right… and this terrified her. She jumped out of the bathtub and knocked her big toe on the edge of the door and ultimately missed the call. She stared helplessly at the tiny screen and pressed the speed dial to call him back but the call didn't go through. She went back to the bathroom soaking the floor and shooed away Sammie who was happily jumping all around and making a mess of everything. She finally managed to get rid of the last trace of soap and shampoo, wrapped herself in a towel and wiped the mirror. She realized she was not afraid of ghosts any more and smiled at her smudged reflexion. Was it the dog therapy, she thought with a glance to the bull terrier seated on her jeans and waiting in the tremulant anticipation of her next move, or simply the fact that Peter was so easy to be around and so comforting that he had blotted out her bad memories? She placed her dirty clothes in the basket behind the door, dried her hair, retrieved her stained jeans from Sammie and a wool sweater from her chair and tried to call him back again but it went directly to his voice mail. She bit her lip and sat on the bed to put on her socks, Sammie still observing her every move. That was strange that Peter did not leave her a message. She checked again and sighed. This was getting ridiculous. She was a grown woman, not a teenager. She whistled softly and Sammie followed in her wake wagging her tail wildly and showing her enthusiasm with little yelps. She grabbed her coat and her hat and opened the door. "Olivia!" Walter chirped in a very loud and cheerful voice. "I'm so happy you could make it!" he said hugging her forcefully before she had time to process his presence on her front porch. "Walter, this is Olivia's apartment, she didn't make it per se. She lives here, it's only logical to find her, don't you think?" his son quipped. She spotted immediately the suitcases on the top of the stairs and her car parked on the opposite side of the street. Sammie was out already, and barking her way to the park after a frightened American spaniel with renewed energy. Olivia managed to free herself from Walter's embrace and glanced awkwardly towards Peter. He nodded understandingly, putting on his best smile. "Change of plan Liv. We have to talk." "I'll be right back," she answered a bit too fast, avoiding eye contact, "make yourself comfortable Walter," she said hurrying away. "I have to walk the dog." "We have a dog too, don't we Peter?" he crooned. "It's a Lab. Good old Brutus." "Rufus Walter. And as I recall, he's been in dog's heaven for the past twenty years." "He is?" Walter's face melted down and he watched sadly Sammie chasing the black white and tan spaniel in the distance. "May I join Olivia?" "By all means Walter. But please, don't get lost. If you lose sight of Olivia, stay put, we'll come looking for you." "Excellent," he said with a nod proceeding to the bottom of the slippery stairs with extra caution. "Thank you son, don't worry I will watch over agent Dunham for you." Peter sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. He stayed a while in front of the building waiting for his father to catch up with Olivia. Only then, he carried the bags inside and with a last glance behind to their silhouettes against the snow, he closed the door behind him. -o- "I can't." She pouted her mouth with a defiant glare to the Bishops and took a mug from the rack, threw in a tea bag and turned around to retrieve the kettle. "Why's that, there's nothing that can stop you," Peter insisted. "Broyles said you weren't due back before next year. That's a lifetime after what you've been through. And I'm pretty sure you don't have any previous engagement." Regardless of his insistent tone and obvious provocation, she did not budge in her resolve. "Don't tell me you're planning to stay and get engulfed in your work again, that's just not healthy. You of all people could use a break. Not to mention that I can't picture anyone turning down a Bishop invitation." She could hear a hint of laughter in his voice. If she did not look at him, she'll be all right. "Everything will be perfect, I promise. Take a deep breath and say yes. Come on, there's nothing wrong with having some fun over the holidays!" "We'll go surfing…" said Walter in an enticing voice, "and we'll have ice creams and go to the movies and eat popcorn… and, and… cotton candy." Her mind was yelling to say yes and throw away her qualms and desires of normalcy. "My thoughts exactly," smiled Peter. It went unsuspected to Olivia since she was still staring at her kitchen wall. "… and I hate to say it, but for this one time, I'd have to agree with Walter. So will you come with us, please, pretty please?" She turned around and sipped at her tea, peering at them over the rim of her cup. "No." "No?" he shook his head and threw his arms in the air. "Why not? Five whole days of leisure and total rest at my friend's beach house? How can you resist that?" She felt her opposition wearing thin. She could not think of anything best than spending the last days of the year with Peter and his father and the first of the next, for that matter. They were more of a family to her than her own, pretty dysfunctional as it was with her feelings for her surrogate brother oozing from every pore of her skin, but a family nonetheless. What the hell. "We cannot take Sammie," she surrendered. Peter's smile grew wider and he pointed his forefingers at her. "Okay, I sense we're making progress here." Walter's smile was speaking volumes and he seemed on the verge of having one of his moments but it all came down to a few shuffles before he calmed down and returned his attention to Peter. "There's no way I'm taking Beth's dog to Florida," she added. "Now you're talking." Peter stroked his chin absently. "Let's say for the sake of argument that we go for your typical holiday walk in your park of choice with Sammie this morning. Plenty of time to build a few snowmen and have the snowball battle of the century and still get Sammie back in time to her owner. Our flight is at 2:40 pm so we don't have to go to Logan before, say… one thirty?" "Our flight? You're saying you made reservations already?" "I say I did what had to be done if we want to go vacationing in Florida for New Year's Eve," he grinned. "I'll go packing then." -o- "I thought it was you," he said softly when he reached the end of the dock. "You don't mind me joining you?" He was bringing glasses and a bottle of her favourite whiskey. She patted the damp disjointed floor beside her without turning her gaze away from the ocean. Her hair seemed almost white under the pale moonlight. She was wearing kakis and a blue and white striped jumper far too large for her and looking calm, and very different from her usual guarded self. "Not at all, I was dreaming, I guess," she pointed a finger in the direction of the reflections from afar, "this is so sudden. I can hardly believe we were stuck in this blizzard only this morning. The evening air is so tepid here in comparison, that's certainly a drastic change…" "Yup, it's like another world completely. Your usual?" he asked, pouring the amber drink. She nodded with a sheepish smile. "I have to confess it feels like holidays, you were right Peter, I had no idea I needed the break so bad." "Cheers," he said, raising his glass to the ocean before them, "always best to follow doctor's orders," he snipped, sipping on his glass. "Even when you don't know anything about the said doctor?" she quipped with a side glance. "You know pretty much everything that's relevant about me," he said, his body language showing exactly the opposite. "And with your inbred talent, you most certainly have guessed the rest already," he tried to joke. "Not in so many details," she said very seriously. He looked puzzled and frowned. Taking a deep breath, he averted her eyes for a brief moment. "Moment of complete and honest truth? I have to tell you that I did something stupid a couple of weeks ago, kind of trying to reconnect with my past." "Reconnect how?" "You don't want to know." "In this case, why did you bring the subject up, Peter? I guess we're talking of something that happened some time around my second psychedelic reunion with agent Scott," she said hesitantly. "I wondered why you were not there to argue with me and ultimately stop me. Then Astrid told me about your mysterious phone call. I know that you left the lab to meet… someone. And I noticed your bruised hand. It sort of adds up…" "I see. Just when I thought I was being discreet," he chuckled uneasily. "You were, in your own way, I think. Not according to DHS standards," she grinned. "And what do you think? That I'm a dumb smart guy? That I love trouble?" She gazed at him and mulled over an appropriate answer but did not seem to find one and shook her head. "I don't think anything. I hardly know you. I have no idea what you're up to Peter and you made it perfectly clear that you didn't want my help anyway." She was silent for a few seconds, expecting that he will provide her with answers or at least that she will find something to say that won't compromise her stay in Florida. "I guess you're entitled to your private life as long as it doesn't interfere with the job," she stated matter-of-factly. She nibbled on her lower lip. It did not come out right. She wanted to offer her help again or Broyles' for that matter even though he already rejected her offer a long time ago. She was hoping that he will confide in her but he definitely did not seem to want to. It was a dead end. "We'll see…" he finally said. "What do you mean?" "Now that they know I'm back in Boston, I can't guarantee that they won't come after me." "They? Wise guys?" "Sort of." "I see. You sure you don't want me to help you with that…" "Thanks but I can take care of myself." "Obviously," she dropped her chin on her chest and swung her legs nervously over the water. "Peter, it's not my place to judge you or get in the way. But I've been working with you for the last months and I've seen that you're good to Walter despite what you say or think and that you indeed like what you do at the lab and… Well, what I really want to say is that I can have your back if you need me, no questions asked, you know you can trust me." "Thanks Liv, but I'm good. And I can assure you there's pretty much nothing to know about my previous lives. I'd rather not go down memory lane with you if you don't mind." "You want a clean slate, is it what you mean?" "I mean I'm not ready for full disclosure." "Okay, I can deal with that." "Maybe we could meet half way," he said. "I'm sure you could humour me with the vicarious pleasure of your life of adventures and fighting crime but that would negate the purpose of our Floridian trip. What can you tell me about you? Come on I want all the juicy details!" She pressed her lips together fighting a rush of unexpected self-consciousness and rocked slightly back and forth on the edge of the pier. "Well, I took psych and criminology in College, eventually joined the Marine Corps, then the Bureau," she trailed. "And you can count cards," he shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry I was just trying to..." "I know." She locked her eyes on his and stared at him for a while before turning her head back to the sea. They stayed there for a moment in silence, simply watching aquatic night birds fish and dark waters shimmer. Shaking the uncomfortable sensation that it was -in his book, turning into an unforeseen romantic moment instead of the buddy talk and easy banter he had anticipated, Peter spoke up at the precise same time she did. There was another awkward silence. It was going to be a long four days if they kept on tiptoeing around unspoken stories of their previous lives and their current relation or lack of it, he thought, glancing in her direction. "Where is Walter?" she finally asked. "In his bed, fast asleep," Peter smiled, obviously relieved. "No Fibonacci nursery rhyme, no endless fidgeting with odd items, nothing? Just asleep? That sounds weird." "Yes just asleep, I agree, it feels weird even to me. Fancy a refill?" he offered. She nodded and cleared her throat. "To be honest, since you asked, it's kind of a dream come true," she rasped, in a very low tone, handing out her glass. "Which part?" At this point, he thought that it would be best just to follow her drift, to stay on the safe side of their burgeoning friendship. "Well, sailing would have been my ultimate dream when I was a teenager, but flying to the Keys, I figure it works for me too," she smiled, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "At this time of my life, I can't afford the luxury of being a castaway on a remote island anyway," she chuckled, "not with our current battle against big companies, the Pattern and whatnot." "A castaway, like in lost at sea?" She nodded with a smirk. "I'm a girl. A girl can have dreams, can't she?" she shrugged. "I grew up in Fayetteville in North Carolina, and as far as I can remember, I've always been attracted to the sea. My mum used to take me to the seaside to watch the boats on weekends and when I was older, I even worked two summers in a row at a marina in Wilmington." He helped her up and they walked slowly back to the house. "You did?" "Back then I thought I'd eventually sail in a transatlantic single-handed yacht race, or at least own my own coaster." "But it turned out you did neither?" She gave him a gentle nudge. "Life, you know." "Don't I know it," he nodded. "Speaking of life, I hope you don't mind sleeping downstairs on the couch. Mitch didn't tell me anything about the state of refurbishing his house was actually into." "I don't mind. At least, I get a couch. Where are you going to sleep?" "I think I spotted a hammock in the garage. I'll be fine. Anything but sleeping with Walter," he smiled. She chuckled in the darkness and her shoulder brushed against his arm when they entered the house. "And there's always the boat. That reminds me that we could go sailing tomorrow…" "Why not? The weather seems fine, and we could listen to the forecast tomorrow morning just to be on the safe side." "Fantastic! You need me to help you out with the couch?" "I think I can manage, but thanks." "Night Liv." She looked up and realised she was expecting that he will kiss her good night but he turned around and left abruptly. She brushed her teeth, made her bed and for the first time in weeks, she fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. -o- She aimed and peered in every direction, her eyes narrow, walking cautiously. She couldn't see anything through the dense fog though and had to stop her progression. She opened her eyes. She was in her bed and Walter's face was inches of hers, she could feel his breath on her. "Hello Olivia." She felt instantly awake and jumped away. She stood still besides the couch in her tank top and plaid pyjamas. It was cold in the room despite the live embers in the hearth. The main door was wide opened and a cool breeze was blowing inside the house from the sea. She shivered and went to close the door. "Walter? What are you doing here?" she managed to whisper, her right eyebrow arched up to the root of her hair. "I didn't mean to wake you but Peter is missing and, and, and… I checked outside, he's not there either and there's sea all around and… THIS must be an island," he said in a determined voice rising on his elbows trying to straighten up. "How long…" she ran her hand on her hair and sighed. This was not happening. "How long have you been here Walter?" she pointed an accusing finger in his direction and crossed her arms tightly bracing herself against the cold. She stood with her back to the dying fire waiting for his answer. "My question exactly agent Dunham!" said Walter who perched on the edge of the bed in front of her and stared at his wriggling toes. "I… I don't remember why I'm here… how WE got here," he added with a puppy look in her direction. "Do you think we've both been drugged?" he jerked frantically on the bed and frowned. "… abducted?" he asked with a suspicious glance around. "Why would they do that?" Now he was moaning and sounding desperate. She slowly returned to reality and pondered how she was going to make him go back to the first floor and eventually back to sleep. "Walter you're delusional again," Peter's voice startled them both. "Why am I not surprised? You couldn't leave Olivia alone could you?" He was in his boxer shorts, dishevelled and wrapped in a patchwork quilt, half awake and looking pissed. "Don't tell me that you were in her bed watching her sleep, Walter," he said dryly with an inquisitive stare. She shrugged apologetically. "Walter, I hate to break it to you, but you're not in Boston any more. I told you a thousand times that we're in Florida at my friend Mitch's beach house. And Olivia here has kindly agreed to come along with us on our New Year's Eve trip so that I wouldn't have to put up with your deranged behaviour on my own. You do remember that, don't you Walter?" He slumped on the couch and tugged on the drifting blanket with frenzy, looking daggers at Walter. "It's okay Peter," she said softly. "Don't get mad at him. It's no big deal." "No it's not okay and yes it is a big deal! Can't we get a decent night's sleep for once Walter? Are you determined to driving us all insane? Don't you think that it's only normal to give Olivia some privacy?" "Oh, oh…" a goggle-eyed Walter chanted, a huge grin spreading all over his face, "you wanted to be alone with her, err… Peter? I'm sorry I didn't mean to intrude on you two but I got scared." "Walter…" Peter growled. Olivia dashed between the two men and hushed Peter back on the couch with a soothing hand on his bare shoulder. "I'll take care of Walter. Peter, please, go back to sleep." "I don't need to be taken care of agent Dunham, see," said the professor who was already hurrying up the stairs. "I'm glad you two finally got together. I posited you would since day one. Night Peter, night Olivia, I'll leave you in Peter's hands," he chuckled before slamming his bedroom door behind him. "Sorry about that," Peter shook his head in despair. "It's okay. It was rather funny actually." "I'm glad you like it. Oh boy, I really could use a cigarette right now." "Maybe we could find some in the house…" "It was a figure of speech, I was never much of a smoker but bad habits die hard. Temperature is dropping, I say we should revive the fire. I can tell that you're not in the mood to sleep either, am I right?" Her face turned crimson and she knelt in front of the fireplace to hide her embarrassment. TBC |
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