I don't know about you, but I've been positivly dying without my weekly dose of Fringe. So I wrote a little fic :) Bolivia, as always. I was listening to this song and this phrase of lyrics really jumped out of me and made me think of Peter, and then I got this idea for the fic, and as always, was forced to write it.

Disclaimer:;; If I didn't own anything before, I doubt I will now. Fringe, it's characters or anything related does. not. belong. to. me. Lucky b-boys. Neither does the song Jumper.

"The angry boy, a bit too insane
Icing over a secret pain
You know you don't belong
You're the first to fight
You're way too loud
You're the flash of light on a burial shroud
I know something's wrong
Cause everyone I know has got a reason
To say put the past away." - Jumper, Bedlight For Blue Eye

It was always her who had something wrong with her. Whether it had to do with her disturbing (ex) step-father, John, or the case becoming a little too emotional or personal. Sure, she didn't like to talk about it every time and tried to keep it to herself. But he seemed to always be able to tell. Olivia knew it was his insane ability to read people and dissect their feelings. Every nervous tick or tone of voice. That bothered her a lot. She hated it when he looked at her like he was seeing something only he could see.

Of course, Olivia had rational reasoning on her side, and it was just enough to understand if something was bothering someone. Although even then it mattered on how well she knew the person, or how obvious they were. But this particular person was still a mystery to her. She hated the way he covered his feelings with jokes and sarcastic chirps. And then tried to break through her own barriers, when he was the one person who should know not to. Someday, Olivia thought, someone was going to come along and break down his barriers, and she couldn't wait to see it happen.

But, Olivia knew she was the same way. She had a few confidents. Charlie, for one. And John had used to be one. Before he betrayed her, and the bureau, dying in the process. And even then she couldn't escape him. But, still, sometimes she found herself confessing things to Peter. Maybe it was because they were alike in that way. Guarded. She was worse, though. He actually tried to talk to her, sometimes. When she was really bad. And the way he told her he was there for her had totally caught her off guard. All she could do was smile like some high school girl who'd just got a smile from the boy she was crushing on, and say "Yeah, I know."

Maybe it was the way he stood, arms crossed and looking defensive. Or the way his slightly bruised knuckles caught her eye. Whatever the reason, she couldn't tear her eyes away from him as soon as she walked into the lab. Walking over to Astrid and handing her some files she had requested, Olivia glanced at Peter again, straining to see an answer, when she didn't even know the question. He was mumbling something to Walter, but as soon as he felt the presence of her eyes, he glanced up at her. What disturbed her the most was the way he didn't smile, his eyes weren't glinting with mischief. He didn't seem to acknowledge her in anyway. Instead he shifted and turned back to Walter, continuing where he'd left off.

It wasn't like her to go and ask him what was wrong, that's something she wouldn't normally do. But, it also wasn't like her to feel so unnerved that she didn't know. That there was something off about him. Taking a step towards him, she hesitated. After regaining her confidence, she walked over to him and Walter. "What are you doing?" she asked Peter.

"Nothing, I was just warning Walter, again, the dangers of self-medication!" he said, growling the last part when Walter added some sort of indefinable powder into a glass of water and taking a sip.

"Son, I'm certainly capable-" This time Walter seemed to be having one of his spats of anger. Before he could continue, Olivia placed her hand on Peters arm and pulled him the other way.

"I'm sorry, Walter, but I really need to speak with Peter," Olivia explained, cutting him off. He looked dazed for a moment before nodding numbly and turning back to his glass of water slash whatever the hell kind of drugs he had just put in it. Peter pulled away from her roughly and trotted up the stairs, stuffing one hand in his pocket and the other grabbing his jacket off the railing. Now he was just getting on her nerves. "Peter!" she called, quickly walking over to him.

"I'm going out!" he snapped with surprising anger, looking at her, his eyebrows narrowed, causing his forehead to crease. Placing her hands on her hips, all Olivia could do was stare at him. Sure he had snapped at her a few times before, but the way his eyes were burning with anger threw her off. It almost disturbed her and she found herself wanting to apologize like a child who had just been scolded. So much for trying to ask what was wrong. Maybe it was all useless. Besides how was it going to matter to her? She knew this was just more evidence that something was on his mind, but his anger at her only made her angry at him. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair before turning around and heading quickly out the door.

Apart of her made her stay there, hesitating, and watching the door close. Apart of her made her want to go after him. But the hostility he was displaying made her turn around and slowly walk away. Maybe a better person would have gone after him. Maybe a better person would know what was wrong with him in the first place. But she wasn't said person, and so, she tried to forget that encounter all together. He'll blow off some steam wherever he's going, probably some bar, and when he comes out he'll be normal, sarcastically cheerful Peter again.

And so, hours later, she can barely remember how utterly confused she had been about Peter. And the splinter of pain that had pricked her heart when he yelled at her, as well. She was even smiling to herself at Walters attempt to teach Astrid how to milk the cow. Of course, the young assistant was trying to find a way out of it. Olivia figured this was the perfect time to slip out before Walter tried to include her. It was already late, she had lost track of time.

As she stepped outside the university, she noticed how the stars reflected off her black SUV. An FBI car, probably meant to reflect the seriousness and authority. Sliding in, she started the engine, pulling out. She hadn't even realized she was cold till the shiver made her jump. Flipping the heater on, her eyes scanned the streets around her. It seemed like a pretty dead night. She wondered where everyone could be until she glanced at the clock. It was just past midnight. Time flies when you're shifting through case files bigger than dictionaries. Of course she often engrossed herself in work when something's on her mind that she doesn't want to confront.

Unfortunately, little rain drops began to fall on the already wet pavement. Hadn't it just rained? Sighing, Olivia leaned over the steering wheel and glanced at the sky. It was light, but quickly growing worst. Soon she had to turn her wind shield wipers on. Rain truly depressed her. It threw off any good mood she had been having and just makes everything a little more dull and pointless. The only thing she liked about it was the way the streetlights shimmered off the puddles on the sidewalks.

Pulling to the curb in front of her small, but comfy, apartment, she cut the engine. Locking her car door, she turned and fumbled with the keys, trying to find the right one before her fingers grew numb from the cold. She heard footsteps and glanced up briefly out of reflex, only long enough to see the outline of a man walking down the sidewalk in her direction. Hurrying up the steps to her door, she slipped the right key in. The quicker she can get out of the rain, the better. Just as she unlocked it and about to open the door, she felt someone standing behind her.

Wiping around, hand reflexively going to her waist where her gun was still strapped to. But only resting on it, she wasn't going to pull it out on someone she didn't know possessed a threat. What if it was a man just looking for directions. But, what surprised her, was Peter Bishop. His head was tilted to the side, his hair completely soaked and flattened against his head, the rain drops dripping from the ends, sliding down his tired looking face. "Hey," he breathed, and his eyes flickered to her hand on her gun.

"Peter? What are you doing here?" she asked. He shifted, looking down at his wet shoes and pulling his jacket closer. Her mind coming back to her, she turned around and opened her door, stepping inside. Holding it open for him, she watched as he hesitate before following her in.

"Sorry if I get your floors wet," he joked, throwing her a smile as she closed the door behind him. Relieved to find she was right and he was acting better. Of course, his smile doesn't reach his eyes and it slowly turns back to a frown.

"Are you hungry?" Olivia asked, trying to break the tension, and heading to the kitchen. He followed her but shook his head. She pulled her jacket off and laid it across the island counter, turning around and leaning against it, watching him. Crossing her arms, she asked, "So, why were you here?"

He glanced around her apartment before his eyes fell on hers. "Car broke down about five blocks away," he explained, chuckling.

"I told you that thing was a hazard on wheels," Olivia joked, smiling. He ran his hand through his hair, sending rain drops flying. When he pulled his hand away Olivia's smile widens, seeing his hair sticking every which way. He looked confused at her for a moment before his eyes slide behind her to look at his reflection in the microwave. Quickly he fixed his hair and tossed her a boyish smile.

"About today..." he started, and she shook her head.

"Really, it's no big deal." The last thing Olivia wanted was some sort of apology from him. She was bad at both receiving them and giving them. But he continued, and she grew annoyed with him once again.

"No, it is," he admited. "I really shouldn't have yelled at you like that, I'm sorry. I was just..."

"Peter," Olivia said firmly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his arm. And she hated how his eyes slide from the floor to meet hers intensely. "It's no big deal. You don't need to apologize, I understand." There were a few strands of his hair still sticking up and her hand twitched, wanting to reach forward and fix it for him. She almost does, her hand moving to his shoulder. But she stopped, glancing away before back at him. Again his gaze is intense and she feels self-conscious. Just before she stepped back he spoke.

"But you don't," he breathed.

Olivia hadn't realized he had taken a step closer to her; she had been so mesmerized by his green eyes, until she felt his hot breath on her face. Suddenly a shiver rolled down her spine and her face grew hot. She couldn't pull her eyes away from his, she was frozen in place. "Don't what?" she asked.

"Understand." Again his deliciously warm breath hit her face, making her almost rock back on her heels. Finally her hand slipped from his shoulder and she stepped back, against the counter, looking away. It was one thing to have Peter Bishop standing in her kitchen trying to apologize, another thing for him to be standing inches away. And a whole other thing entirely for her to be feeling the way she was towards him. "Listen, I was thinking, and I think you deserve an explanation."

Quickly she replied, "Peter, you don't have to tell me anything. You can, if you want to. I'll listen, but don't tell me because you think I have to know." He looked at her sadly for a moment before nodding. Suddenly she remembered the promise he had made her the other day after she had emerged from the tank for the second time. "If you need me, I'm here," she told him, quoting his own words. He seemed to like that, smiling widely at her, and she smiled back relieved.

"Yeah, I know," he replied, quoting her answer. There was a moment of silence as they gazed at eachother.

"Hey, how about a ride?" she asked him, turning and grabbing her jacket, already pulling it on before he could answer.

"If I said I'd get a cab, would you kidnap me anyway?" he asked, smiling charmingly at her.

"Most likely." Olivia chuckled, brushing his shoulder with her own as she moved past him toward the door. Just as she was reaching for it, his hand came from behind her and grabbed the door knob, opening it as she jumped to the side.

"After you," he told her, holding the door open. It was amazing how a tense moment can go so quickly to joking and smiles with Peter Bishop. Either way, she was just glad they were back to it. She lingered by the door, her eyes locked onto his, the sound of the rain pouring outside.

So, I was thinking about continuing this, with the car ride and whatnot. But I haven't decided. I was hoping you guys could help out with my desicion :) As always, hoped you enjoyed it, and please review.