Olivia's eyelids fluttered and she turned on her back, thrashing around her bed. She let out a small noise of pleasure. She was having one of those dreams. With John in it… It was strange how daring and comfortable she was while they were together. She would boldly jump on top of him and have his way with him and he would just lie there smiling and letting her please herself in any way that she wanted. Deep in her subconsciousness, Olivia wasn't sure that she was ever going to be able to relax like that with anyone else…. Seven long months have passed and she had to accept that John was gone forever, that he existed only in her mind. Olivia just didn't know how to do it. She couldn't let go. She needed John. Whatever she did, each step that she took, every decision she made in her daily routine during the cases they were solving, everything linked her to him, to their past, and everything just seemed to uncover another piece of the puzzle, slowly unraveling the mystery that was John Scott.
In her dream, she was in a warm, dark place… It smelled like gasoline… She was laid back and calm, unperturbed. It was so peaceful… Olivia hasn't felt like that for a long time. And then the car door opened and John sat next to her. She wanted to remember every line on his face, every little smile of his, the way his square jaw moved when he was laughing… His light grey eyes, that always looked so devoted and full of affection. He leaned over to her and cupped her face with his hands. Her heart fluttered like violetear's wings.
-John… Is this a dream?
-Olive-his voice was soft and kind. –If it is, then it is very good dream, don't you agree?
She closed her eyes waiting for him to touch her. That was all she'd been wanting for so long. His soft full mouth kissed her on the forehead and he nuzzled her chin with his clean shaven face. Suddenly, his hands were everywhere, while his mouth was tracing the fine line down her neck. Olivia deeply inhaled a slightly spicy scent of his cologne and sighed happily. It was such a good place to be… Here in the car, with John…. Forgetting about all the worries of the world. She was afraid of opening her eyes… She wanted the feeling to last forever. His tongue was still undulating over the curve of her collarbone when she greedily reached out for the buttons on his shirt… She wanted to fully access his chest, to touch and caress it, to sense his bare skin on her own and to pull him even closer… John just smiled and shook his head.
-Tonight is all about you, Olive. Let me feel you, please… I haven't been able to feel anything for such a long time… Just relax and I will do everything for the both of us.
A small smile escaped her lips and she nodded in agreement, closing her eyes again and resting her head on the back of the car seat. John's hand slid gently beneath her blouse caressing her flat stomach and she felt thousands of butterflies wanting to escape from their carnal prison. Small nub between her legs, hidden among her golden curls, raised its head in hardened anticipation, tingling pleasantly with a responsive kind of throbbing and Olivia gasped. Then his hand slowly moved upwards towards the curves of her lower breasts. She was trembling with desire. His fingers stayed there, fondling and rubbing her left nipple, but his other hand wandered below her belt and into her already soaking wet black panties. Her legs lightly spread apart, unconsciously, and he inserted two of his fingers deep inside her, pushing her panties aside with ease, while allowing his thumb to rest on her engorged pink button. Olivia moaned with satisfaction, writhing and squeezing his fingers inside her, grinding shamelessly against his digits. He was expertly rubbing her clit while he was simultaneously teasing her left nipple. Then he approached his head to her right breast and started licking and suckling on her right nipple ever so softly… He was pleasuring Olivia to the point of oblivion, taunting all her senses… And Olivia needed him urgently inside her, driven into her up to the hilt of his hard erect sword; she yearned for the long postponed release… But his head and his left hand abandoned her breasts, and the pace with which his fingers were thrusting her slowed, leaving her disappointed. She groaned in a protest and he chuckled lightly. Seconds after, his stubble teased one, and then the other hardened nipple and then he sped up his pace between her legs, his fingers finding just the right spot that was going to bring her over the edge. She shivered and whimpered, encouraging him and arching her back, giving herself away completely. And then, just before she exploded, he stopped and whispered sensually in her ear with his deep gravelly voice:
-You are enjoying yourself a little too much, aren't you, sweetheart?
Olivia's eyes flew open incredulously and met a hard, darkened, mischievous gaze of Peter Bishop.
She woke up with a startled jump and sat upright in her bed, breathing shallowly. She quickly glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was half past five in the morning. Droplets of sweat were running down her back. She didn't know what the hell just happened and she felt lost, disorientated, confused and ashamed of herself. For the first time in weeks, her swollen breasts hurt with desire and her protruding nipples pulsated under her T-shirt. Needless to say, there was a little pool of her wetness glistening on the sheets. Olivia stood up rapidly, nervous and alert, and yet not being able to ignore the hungry feeling between her thighs. She rubbed her temples and bit her lower lip in anger and disarray. She needed an immediate cold shower. Carrying the sheets in her arms and throwing them into the washing machine, she headed to the bathroom on the tips of her fingers, not wanting to wake up Rach and Ella.
Caught up in work, devoting herself to the newly founded Fringe Division, Olivia didn't have time for bodily pleasures. While she and John were partners, they had sex a lot, and quite frequently. But after he died… Nothing ever felt the same. The first two months were probably the most difficult. She was passing through a hard time, not just emotionally, but physically as well. She was used to having sex every day, and now she had to go without. Of course, she could've always found someone just for that, but Olivia wasn't exactly the type to do casual sex. A small smile danced on her lips when she remembered how she practically threw herself even at Peter during that time of crisis, playfully teasing him, wanting him to play the piano for her. He was so endearing back then, and confused with her flirtatious tone.
Later she put those urges under control, training her body to ignore such wishes. She was reading a lot and she discovered that the more you please yourself, the more starved for sexual contact you become. So Olivia decided not to masturbate. In the beginning, it was horribly hard. But as the time passed, her body got used to that, just like someone who loved chocolate suddenly realized that he's a diabetic and that he won't be able to taste another chocolate bar in his entire life. She had to deal with cold showers instead, but she really didn't mind those. Yet, on that particular morning, she almost pleasured herself for the first time after seven long months, before actually going to the bathroom. Her reluctant hand traveled south but she forced herself to calm down, looking sternly into her own eyes in the mirror. That dream had been so vivid and so surprising. But in the end she did what she always used to do: when something puzzled her and when she couldn't find the answer she sought, Olivia would just suppress the problem and push it in the lower drawers of her brain, locking up those unnerving thoughts. And that was exactly what she did with that dream. What good it would do to dwell on it, she said to herself. Cold water helped, and she felt rejuvenated when she stepped out of the shower. She was thinking how the sun was coming out soon. She quickly got dressed, and stood by the window, watching the dark street and enjoying the sparrows' chirping.
At exactly six thirty, her phone rang. It was Broyles. She couldn't believe her ears. Another incident, and so soon after the first one. While he was dictating the address to her, she felt a small hand tugging at her shirt. Ella was wide awake and smiling.
-Hi, honey! Why are you up so early? How is my favorite niece?
-But aunt Liv, you don't have any more nieces…
-You're right, Ella, but you know what: if I did, you'd still be my very favorite. Where is your Mom?
-She's coming right now. We are going to play together all day. I am going to be a princess.
-That's nice, dear.
-Do you have to go to work again, aunt Liv?
-I'm afraid so. But I'll always be home to tuck you in, don't you forget that.
-Mom told me she was going to give me her necklaces and her earrings, and I am going to wear a beautiful dress, and she is going to let me wear make-up today. I will live in the castle and wait for my boyfriend to kiss me and to be happy forever.
-Hey, hey… Aren't you a little young to be thinking about boyfriends, missy?
-It's just pretending, aunt Liv. I want to be like a princess from uncle Peter's story.
Olivia swallowed hard and her eyes widened.
-What story, honey?
-Uncle Peter tucked me when we made Wicked Bishop Omelet in and told me a bedtime story about a beautiful princess who lived alone on the top of the highest tower and she was waiting for a boyfriend to kiss her. And she didn't have time to have a boyfriend because she was busy making other people happy.
The nerve of the man, Olivia thought.
-I am going to be good like this princess and I am going to make people happy but I am still going to have a boyfriend and kiss with him.
Rachel entered the living room, still yawning. She kissed her sister soundly on the cheek, hugging her.
-Good morning! Oh, I slept like a rock! Let me guess, she's talking about Peter again? She's really fond of him.
Olivia forced a smile and nodded awkwardly.
-Yeah, he's a great guy.
-Pete is incredible, Olive. You should've seen the way he was with her…. Better than her own father. And he's really funny and smart.
Pete? Olivia made a mental note.
-Say, why did he drop by last night? Anything in particular?
-No. No, no, no. Just… Work stuff-Olivia said, too loudly and too dismissively.
Was Olivia imagining it, or Rachel looked slightly disappointed? She desperately wanted to change the subject but Rachel didn't, or so it would seem.
-Did you notice how sad he looked when he came over? When I came to tell that you that Ella wanted you to tuck her in, I got a good look of him (I'm sure you did, thought Olivia) and he struck me as deeply troubled. Is there something wrong with him?
-Oh, you know, just… Job and… Usual things-Olivia was starting to feel really uncomfortable talking about Peter's intimacy with Rachel so she evaded the clear answer… She met him just once and… Well…Olivia knew him for seven long months. It wasn't the same. But… If Peter wanted to open up to Rachel himself, she didn't mind.
-Well I'm glad you guys are getting along so well and that he confides in you. You are true partners who look out for each other. To tell you the truth, I'd love to see him visit more often. Ella would be thrilled!
-Sure, why not?-said Olivia, avoiding to look in her sister's eyes. –It's just… I don't know if he'll have the time to drop by anytime soon, with all the work there's to be done; plus, he also has to take care of Walter and there's that… But I'll definitely let him know that he left a great impression on the two of you.
-Are you going to work now?
-Yeah, I was just leaving.
-Liv… You haven't eaten anything.
-Hey, don't worry about me, I'm fine. You two have a nice breakfast and get some rest. It's not really recommendable to eat before visiting the crime scene anyway.
-Oh, you're going to visit a crime scene? If you're gonna see Peter, tell him we said hi!
-Aunt Liv, tell uncle Peter that I am going to be a princess today…
-I'll tell him-she replied courtly and went outside planting a quick but juicy kiss on Ella's cheek just before opening the door.
She welcomed the fresh cold morning air and inhaled deeply. The crime scene wasn't too far away and it was a short drive to the airport. The plane, again. It made her shiver. How many people died this time?
Everyone else was already there. She could hear deep Peter's voice as she was approaching to the group on foot:
-Oh, Walter, that's disgusting! Don't touch that!
-Pelage characteristics of the animal… But still… His bodily features are strangely anthropomorphic… As if he were a human being that somehow changed his initial form… This is so curious…-Walter reached out his gloved hand and touched the long burnt spins.
-So basically, what you're telling us is that Mr. Porcupine here used to be Mr. Smith?
-Exactly, my son. Ouch!-Walter gasped in pain, suckling on his index finger. -I think it pricked my skin.
-Well done, Walter, congratulations! Just great! We don't even know if it's contagious and you're already putting the finger in your mouth!
-It's bleeding-said Walter miserably.
-Come here, let me see-Peter mumbled resignedly.
-There is no need to shout-Walter whispered sadly.
-Ok, you know what, I'm sorry, Walter. I haven't slept well, I'm freezing, I'm forced to endure a sight of a crispy human hedgehog mutant over here and I really don't need to worry over you too just now. So we're good, right, Walter? Here, have a Kleenex and wrap it around your finger. And don't suck on it again-Peter said exasperatedly, seeing how Walter was secretly trying to unwrap the Kleenex he gave him.
-Agent Dunham-Broyles greeted her levelly and briefed her on the case. Peter sharply turned to look at her.
-Why didn't you call me sooner?-Olivia said, unable to hide her anger. She wanted to be where the action was and to give all the help she was able to give.
-We needed Mr. Bishop to come here first, to see what he could make of this. You wouldn't have been of much use just then. But now, I want you to speak to agent Francis and go through some documents with him. We compiled the copies of the passports of all the people who were on the plane.
Charlie smiled at her.
-Tough night?-she asked him, giving him a friendly bump on the shoulder. Peter watched them intently, wanting to join in the conversation but not really knowing how. Seeing her face every day has become a painful need for him. She hasn't even greeted us when she got here, he thought sulkily.
-Yeah, pretty much. I've been here since one in the morning. Broyles wanted the FBI team on the case first. In the beginning we thought it was an engine failure and that there was nothing special about it. My men were investigating the plane wreck and then we found… That… Or him… I'm not really sure what to call it. Broyles figured that elder Bishop would have some ideas so they called him asap.
-Broyles told me you've got some passport copies for me to browse through.
-Oh, right, hang on a second. I left them in my car. Be right back, Liv.
She smiled and stuck her hands in her coat pockets. A migraine was coming up to greet her. She didn't have her morning cup of coffee and the lack of caffeine in her system was immediately noted by her tired body. And then she suddenly smelled coffee from somewhere behind her and quickly turned around.
Peter was standing there with a huge cup of smoking hot coffee in his hands. It was the same face from her dream, but this time, instead of dark gaze and mischievous smile, she was greeted by a sincere, happy, boyish grin and innocent light blue eyes.
-Dunham-he said, smirking at her.
-Hey-she replied with a court nod.
-I thought you would be interested in this. I know how you get when you don't drink your morning coffee.
-Thanks… Peter… –she paused, studying his face and then eagerly sipped the hot liquid. She felt better instantly. -You aren't having any?
-No, not really. After tending to Mr. Spikey over there, I am not really in the mood for food or beverages and I doubt I will be during the day, since Walter wants Sonic The Hedgehog transported back to the lab. I'm going to be forced to look at him all day, and that doesn't really open up one's appetite.
He was speaking fast, blabbing away, and not looking at her eyes, but somewhere over her shoulder. It was easier like that. Peter noticed that he liked her more and more with every passing day and he wasn't able to hide it. She's bound to notice something soon. And then it all might go down the drain. Self-control is the key, Bishop.
Olivia, on the other hand, observed his face and thought how estranged they've become recently. She briefly wondered if it was her fault.
Peter's eyes finally focused on her face and he gazed in her now amber eyes. Her eyes were that glowing, sated color when she drank coffee, he thought. He noticed a loose strand of her golden hair sticking out of one end of her mouth and he clumsily reached forth to remove it, whispering apologetically.
-You have… Something… A hair in your mouth…
-Um….-Olivia took a step backwards, avoiding his touch and a shadow crossed his pale face. –Thanks, let me remove it. And now? Is it still there?-she asked.
-No, you… You removed it. It's good now-Peter replied.
-OK-she smiled confusedly. Why was everything becoming so awkward for them?
-Oh, and…-Olivia continued in a strange sweet voice that somehow didn't belong to her.
He raised his eyebrows inquisitively, wandering at the tone of her voice.
-Rachel and Ella told me to say hi to you when I saw you. You really left a good impression on them.
-What can I say? It's a Bishop family tradition. Apart from owning a crazy house, we all happen to be very charismatic so I guess it's in my blood. Tell them I said hi back. And remind Rach not to forget about the deal we had-he joked.
-Well, you're Ella's new favorite person. And Rachel was really worried about you because, according to her, you looked awful when you dropped by last night.
-You mean, when I dropped by five hours ago? In our line of work, there is no such term as "last night"-Peter tried to defuse the tension warily, still not comprehending the voice she was using.
It was that kind of voice you use when you are walking down the street with some friends, cursing and laughing out loud, and then a nice elderly neighbor passes you by and your voice suddenly changes while you politely say: Good afternoon, Mrs. Robinson! Things just can't get any weirder, Peter thought.
-So… I can see Charlie coming with the passport copies. I guess I'll talk to you later then, you probably have to get to the lab with Walter.
-Yep. Time for a cross-breeding fun and family bonding over a mutant corpse.
He watched her lean figure leave, with the saddened expression on his face. Then he helplessly clenched his fists and walked toward the car. Walter was already there, waiting for him and happily suckling on a licorice wand.
-Hello, son-he exclaimed happily upon seeing Peter.
-Hi, Walter-Peter replied tiredly. –Ready to go?
-Oh, yes! It's going to be such an exciting day!
-Right. Hold on tight! Next stop: Bishop's house of horrors!