Here it is! The sequel to The Academy – if you haven't read it yet, go to TA first so this one makes more sense. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

Thanks to Asha710 for encouraging me to get this off the ground.

God bless

The song is La Mar by the Beautiful Girls (who are incidentally an all-male band). They're Australian and played at my uni a couple of months back and were awesome – I had to put them in my story somewhere!

Peter didn't know what he was feeling. He was on the verge of laughing but at the same time his stomach was in knots. He still couldn't wrap his head around the idea that after four months of being on the opposite end of the planet to her, he was about to have dinner at Olivia's new apartment. There was still about half an hour before he had to meet her, so he sat in a park a few blocks from her place, resting himself on the swing of an empty playground as he listened to his iPod. In it was a playlist of songs he'd listened to a lot while he was in South Africa – songs that often reminded him of Olivia across the distance. He closed his eyes and let the gentle music wash over him as the night chill picked up slightly.

This day is getting older,
in fading light it's beautiful.
This wind is blowing colder,
and too soon I'll feel its pull.
Still, I took all my chances,
earned myself an even score.
Try to learn my lessons well.
And I don't have the answers,
for those questions anymore.
Only love can be both heaven and hell.

He smiled to himself wistfully, but there was pain in it. Since being in Boston he'd forgotten how much he'd really missed Olivia over there. After everything they'd survived together in their however-brief relationship, it had still seemed like a damn shame to let it die. But it had to be done at the time – that much was clear. Now things were different. They were suddenly thrown back in the same city and it all happened so suddenly, with Walter getting sick and all, that it was almost unsettling.

So sturdy up, sturdy up your heart,
for the road is long ahead.
I'll be with you even though we're apart,
but your road is yours to tread.
And so it goes, and so it goes,
and so it goes, slows your mind, mind, mind,
so it goes... and so it goes, and so it goes, slows your mind, mind, mind, mind, mind...

South Africa was a hard place to live. It was a beautiful country, with mostly kind-hearted people, but Cape Town's criminal underground wasn't really an underground at all. The people he worked with were dangerous, and many nights it frightened him to be surrounded by those people in a country where he had no one to help him in a time of crisis. Four months of putrid bars, violent men and horrid crimes. Four months of feeling nothing but shame at what he'd become and all the good things he'd run away from. He sometimes wondered if things ever went sour on one of their shady deals and he was hurt or worse, would anyone ever even notice he was gone? Would Olivia ever know? That thought alone was as real as any physical pain. And in the same way, being home in Massachusetts with her made him swell with a relief he'd never known before.

When 7pm finally made its close approach, he wandered through the streets back to her place, buying a couple of bunches of Casablanca lilies along the way. He took pause before he knocked on her door, wondering suddenly if the flowers were a bit much. But hey, it was too late to do anything about them now. With a quiet trembling deep in his chest, he took a breath and knocked on her door, comforted by the soft passing of her distinctive footsteps on the other side. When she opened the door he was a little thrown by what he saw. She'd changed out of her work clothes into some pants and a figure-hugging sweater. Her hair had been readjusted into a neater bun and gold earrings and a necklace illuminated her skin. She'd come a long way from the converse-wearing, t-shirt and jeans college girl he'd met in Quantico. She looked surprisingly feminine, older even. It may have only been four months, but Olivia Dunham sure grew up.

She was the first to speak. "Hi."

"Hi."

They stood still for a moment before easing the tension with an awkward laughter and smiling at each other stupidly. "Come in," she finally said, still laughing as she ushered him inside her home. It was warm and cosy, even though half of her and Rachael's stuff was still in boxes. "Sorry about the mess," Olivia said, trying to be polite and not quite knowing what else to say.

She was relieved when he laughed. "Sweetheart, I've been living in the basements of pubs in Cape Town and Jo-berg for the past four months. This is clean."

She blushed a little. There was that word again. 'Sweetheart'. He realised it too, smiling gently. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just a reflex, I promise."

"It's OK," she said quickly, brushing it off.

Rachael entered from the kitchen and greeted Peter warmly. Suddenly he remembered what he was holding. He chuckled to himself and shook his head to clear it, trying to get a hold of himself. "These are for you both," he said, offering them the bouquets of lilies.

"Thank you, Peter," Rachael beamed. "That's really sweet of you."

"Least I could do," Peter replied, showing off his signature Bishop charm smile.

Olivia just stood dumbstruck, baulking nervously on the inside. "Thank you," she finally managed to say. "You really didn't have to -"

He cut her off with a shake of his head. "I wanted to, Livia."

Rachael excused herself to finish off the food while Olivia and Peter kept talking as she found vases for the flowers. "Are you sure you're going to be alright tonight?"

"Yeah, I have a place to stay."

She nodded, still concerned for him. She sensed that the past four months had been turbulent to say the least. "What do you want to drink?"

"Whatever you're having," he replied.

She went to a wine rack nearby and pulled out a bottle of red, holding it up. "This alright?"

"Sure." He smirked as she opened it up and poured them both a glass. "What, you're not a whiskey girl anymore?" he teased with a grin.

She smiled. "Oh, I am. Just not around my sister. The smell makes her sick. The baby doesn't like it, I guess. She's not even old enough to drink anyway."

"Yeah," he laughed, remembering that Rachael was only 20. He'd totally forgotten for a moment that she was pregnant. She didn't look it – but then again she was only three months along. He smiled at Olivia, taking a sip. "I guess it's comforting for Rachael knowing that the baby doesn't like whiskey. We don't want the baby turning out all alcoholic like its aunt now, do we?" he teased.

She nudged him playfully. "This coming from an ex-bartender? I don't believe it."

"Come on, I just supplied the alcohol but you drank it. You could drink me under the table any day."

"Damn right," she smirked.

He laughed, remembering old times at The Whitehorse as Rachael came back in with the food and Olivia went off to help. Soon enough the three of them sat down to eat, talking about all the things that had changed since Olivia's graduation. "By the way, Rachael," Peter said. "Congratulations on the baby."

"Thank you. Greg and I are really excited."

"Greg's working in Chicago at the moment," Olivia explained. "He comes back in a couple of weeks, so we're living together for now since we had to sell the house and everything."

He knew why they had to sell – but he didn't want to bring up Marilyn's cancer. He didn't know how sensitive Rachael was about the topic, and he could tell it was tearing Olivia to pieces even though she was showing tremendous strength under the circumstances. In the short pause, he noticed how Rachael had subtly dropped her head and Olivia had immediately taken her hand and given her a sad, weak smile. His heart warmed at the sight. One of the things that had always struck him most about Olivia was the fierce protectiveness and sense of duty with which she loved the few people close to her.

"Have you thought of any names yet?" Peter asked, drawing the subject back to the baby. Seeing Rachael smile again as she started explaining what her and Greg were thinking of, Olivia sent him a grateful look which he returned with a look of understanding. The three of them kept talking way into the night until it started getting late.

Rachael yawned. "Sorry guys," she said. "I think I might go to bed. This baby may be tiny, but it's wearing me out."

"You mean 'she'," Olivia corrected.

"We don't know that it's a girl yet, Olivia."

"It's a girl. I can feel it."

"You've got to admit, Rach, she is pretty good when it comes to gut feelings," Peter argued.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll see," Rachael laughed. "It was really good to see you again, Peter."

"Yeah, you too, Rach."

"Goodnight. I love you," Olivia said, giving her sister a kiss on the cheek.

"I love you, too," Rachael replied as she left.

For a moment Olivia and Peter sat in silence. She started to clear the plates and Peter stood, shaking his head and taking them from her. "Let me."

"Peter…"

"Please, I want to help."

She relented, allowing him to help her clean up and wash everything in the kitchen. The silence between them was a mixture of things – but mostly bittersweet. There was a sense of warm nostalgia in it, but more than that, a hesitance about the uncertainty of the future. When they were done cleaning they sat on the couch with a fresh bottle of wine.

"What's the plan for you now?" she asked him tentatively.

"Honestly, I've got no idea. I'm starting to run out of places to go. But South Africa…" He chuckled wryly, and darkness invaded his eyes. "Cape Town was a mistake."

"Peter," she said gently. "What happened to you over there? It was bad, I can tell."

He just shook his head, indicating he didn't want to talk about it. She could see something fracture in his face as he tensed and gathered his thoughts. "I want to start living straight again. I have to. The old life, all the crime and stuff…it's eating me up, Livia. If I keep going that way I'll be dead by the time I'm 30. But all I know is how to run from place to place. I can't go back to that. I know I've got one more run left in me, but I sure as hell don't have one more return. I need to settle somewhere Olivia. I don't care if it's here or wherever else." He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "I don't know. Thinking about Quantico makes me wonder how many times a person can start over."

"Maybe you should stay here. For Walter."

"I don't give a shit about Walter."

"He's your father. He needs you. I know you want to step up, be better. But you need someone to step up for, Peter."

"That used to be you."

"What?"

"In Virginia. You made me want to be a better man. I stayed there to prove that I could be. But it's a different time now."

She nodded, the guilt from how she left him eating away at her stomach. "Do you have friends here?"

"A few. Not many I should be friends with, though. I guess if I'm going to stay I need to find myself a job, maybe start studying again. If I had the money I'd go back to MIT or something. I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Well, you know if you need help I'm here, right? And you're welcome to hang out here if you ever need a place to stay."

He smiled warmly at her, knowing she meant it. "Thank you, but you've got more than enough on your plate right now."

She nodded. "I start probationary field work next week. I'll have a partner and everything."

"Are you nervous?"

"Mostly excited. But Rachael and Mum are worried."

"I can understand that. But I'm not. You were practically born for this job. You're gonna be great, Olivia."

She smiled gently. "Thanks."

He looked at his watch. "It's really late. I should probably go. You've got work in the morning, you should get some sleep."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay? I know you said you have somewhere to go, but still...I have to admit, I worry about you."

He smiled warmly, touched by the gesture. "I'm gonna be fine. Thank you, though." He stood and they walked to the door.

"It was good to catch up," she said.

"Yeah, it was." He hesitated for a moment before pulling her into a hug. It was warm and gentle, but as far as friends went, he was kind of pushing it. Realising this, she tensed a little and he let her go. "Thanks for everything," he said again.

"Let me know if you decide to stay in Boston."

"Of course I will," he said as he left.

Olivia closed the door behind him and ran a hand through her hair. Trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts inside her head, she downed the last of the wine before cleaning away their glasses. Had she really just invited him to stay over? She didn't know what the hell she was thinking. She knew it was stupid trying to restart a friendship with him, but seeing him tonight had brought back all the feelings she'd forgotten. She had enough to deal with right now, between her mum being sick, her sister being pregnant and her work becoming more intense. The last thing she needed was for Peter to be thrown into the mix.

She put her head in her hands. What the hell was she getting herself into?

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