With the Last He Said Goodbye

Jypzrose

Disclaimer-I do not own Fringe. This is done for entertainment purposes.

The first time Peter hugged Astrid was the first time she felt the flutter. It wasn't so much a hug as he seemed to encompass her. One hand at the base of her neck, his nose buried in her hair, his other hand pressed against the middle of her back (their height difference was significant) holding her firmly against his warm frame. It wasn't sexual, but it wasn't platonic either. And it was the way he always hugged. There was no one handed good job kind of hug, no awkward pat on the shoulder. Peter hugged with everything in him. And, that first time he'd drawn her into his arms, she could barely remember why, her ear pressed firmly against his heart, her nose filled with his scent, she felt it. The bump and pull of awareness. The one a woman felt when a man unexpectedly captured her attention.

Too soon it was over, and he was grabbing his coat and heading out the door to follow Olivia. Leaving her to watch after him, puzzled and slightly aroused. Until Walter called her "Astro" and told her to clean the brains off of the table.

The next time he drew her into his embrace, there was no mirth, no smiles, no happy patter of his heart under ear. This time when he pressed his face to her hair, his cheeks were wet with tears, his heart a somber thud in his chest. The arms that held her were tight, almost too tight. It was after Olivia's accident. The one where she was proclaimed brain dead, never to wake up. She'd held her hands against the small of his back, taking his grief, combining it with hers and letting it go into the atmosphere around them, attempting to siphon it away from this large, beautiful man and give him peace. Give them both peace.

Thankfully, the doctors had been wrong and Olivia woke up.

The third time it happened, it was different. They were in the lab, the three of them together eating dinner after Olivia had left. Walter had fallen asleep on the couch watching TV, occasionally muttering something under his breath neither of them heard or cared to hear. Astrid basked in Peter's smile, the easy way they could talk to each other, the way his chopsticks would dip onto her plate to steal a piece of chicken or a snow pea. At one point he reached across the table and brushed his thumb along the line of her bottom lip, taking away a stray drop of sauce. She felt her breath hitch, knew her pulse jumped.

She'd watched his eyes darken, the blue turning to midnight, his brows pulling together in consideration. He stepped closer, his long lean form dangerously close. His hand curled around her neck, the warmth of his long fingers nearly burning her.

"Astrid," his voice was low and raspy, imploring. She didn't dare to look at him, too afraid of what he'd see, or what she'd see. She heard him sigh, nearly sang out in relief when his other hand wound around her waist to pull her carefully off the stool. She eagerly stepped into his arms, her eyes drifting closed as his smell overwhelmed her senses. Clean and spicy and so inherently male it was intoxicating. His lips brushed softly against her temple sending tiny electric shocks across her nerve endings. She couldn't help the tiny moan that escaped her throat. Astrid startled at the answering rumble in his chest.

But she wasn't ready. Wasn't ready to test this thing that had jumped between them. To see if she meant more to him than Olivia or if she was just the consolation prize. So she stepped carefully away, offered him a smile and barely there eye contact before gathering her things and leaving the lab. Peter had been left to clean up for once.

The fourth time had come with both arms banded around her middle, hands spread wide on her back, his face against her neck and a spin in the air that left her dizzy and breathless. Which was no different than she felt any other time she'd been in his arms. She'd laughed and hung onto his neck for dear life, her chin on his shoulder, her knees braced against his hips. He dropped her on her feet, his hands sliding up her neck to her face to cup in his large warm hands. She gripped his wrists, her dark eyes searching for his. He leaned down to her level, his sparkling blue eyes full of laughter.

As soon as their eyes clashed, theirs smiles dropped, the air thickened and his gaze sought out her mouth. They were standing so close she could smell the hints of coffee on his breath. She knew his tongue would taste sweet with the sugar he took in it. He edged closer to her, testing, waiting. She could only watch wide eyed until his mouth pressed against hers in an almost chaste kiss. Then her eyes drifted closed, her fingers tightened on his wrist and her heart thundered in her ears.

He pulled back, his eyes searching hers to see if she would punch him. Then that smile curled his lip, the one that reminded her of naughty boys caught with their hands in the cookie jar. He kissed her again, soft brushes against her cheeks, her eyes lids, her nose. She was laughing once more, her breath coming in short, elated gasps until his mouth found hers again and she couldn't think any more.

The fifth time Peter hugged her was goodbye. Astrid had woken up to a pounding on the door, the beat frantic and too demanding for six in the morning. A glance through the peep hole showed her it was him. Her heart lodged itself in her throat as she pulled open the door. One look at his face and she knew, this would be the last time she saw him. At least for a while.

"Will you come back?" She couldn't help but ask when he stepped across her threshold and into her apartment. She felt the way he filled the space, took it over with his presence, electrified the air with the emotions he was trying so hard to keep in.

Peter looked at her for a long time before answering. It was as if he were trying to memorize her, to have a mental picture to take with him on his journey. Her heart broke the longer he stayed silent and she started to mourn what could have been.

"Will you come with me?" There was no real hope in his voice for it, but she couldn't help loving that he'd asked.

"My life is here." So is yours, she added silently. But she knew, the betrayal he felt ran deep and he had to work through it before he could accept that. Peter nodded sadly, his blue eyes sorrowful over the anger he struggled with.

"Take care of him. Them." He amended, moving toward her. She was amazed by him right then, for still thinking of Walter, even after the devastation of his lie. She nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. He reached for her, those strong, steady arms wrapping around her middle, under her robe and pulling her to him. His heart beat steady under her cheek, his lips pressed gently into her hair. She felt the heat of his hands branding her skin through her thin nightgown and she knew that she'd wait, no matter how long it took. Just as she knew that Olivia wouldn't let him run too far for too long.

And if she did, Astrid wouldn't.

Peter pulled away, just enough to fit his mouth over hers. Unlike the last time he kissed her, with laughter and lightness, this one was full of need and despair. His lips coaxed hers open, his tongue licked between her teeth to explore the sweetness of her mouth. She whimpered against him, her fingers clutching uselessly in his jacket, desperate to hold on, to keep him with her. Too soon he pulled away, his blue eyes heavy lidded and dark, the desire in them adding another layer of emotion for him to battle through.

Come back to me, her mind screamed, a tear sliding down her cheek. Peter's thumb slid up to catch it, tenderly brushing the offending wetness away.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. I don't want to remember you that way." Another brush of his thumb across her cheek, a sweet press of his lips against hers and one last, encompassing hug. She let his warmth seep into her, memorized everything she could in these last few seconds. She wasn't ready when he pulled away, easing her to her feet and sweeping his fingers across the curls on her head. "Goodbye, Astrid."

"I'll see you soon." She said instead of goodbye, giving him his only warning that he was allowed to go, but not stay away. He looked deep into her eyes, a ghost of his brilliant smile on his lips. He nodded, a soft chuckle escaping his chest. Then he finally stepped fully away from her, his hand evading her last desperate grasp to keep him near. He didn't say anything else, he just walked to the door, cast one last glance at her over his shoulder, and then stepped out her door. It closed behind him with a soft click that echoed inside of her shattered heart.

A/N-I've been binge watching Fringe and while I'm fine with Olivia/Peter ship, I like to dabble. Since there are a plethora of those fics out there. So I'm going to contribute to the Peter/Astrid side of the ocean. This will probably just be a series of one shots. Please review and enjoy.