This story follows "Of Human Action". It was originally intended to be a one-off but with the way the chapter ends, more begs to be written. Stay tuned!

Chapter 1:

She tried to settle down the nerves bubbling in her stomach. He was back, he was safe albeit a bruise on his head and that sad look on his face. She couldn't stop replaying the days events, his kidnapping, the fact he was being controlled by a fifteen-year-old boy. It was unsettling to her.

The scary part was she hadn't even known he was gone. It was Walter that asked her where Peter was and the realization when it hit her, that no one had heard from him, it scared her. She played the brave solider, the tough FBI Agent but underneath it all she was worried more than she'd ever been.

Now though, she knew he was home safe with Walter. She'd just gotten off the phone with him, relaying him the news that the boy wasn't going to be serving any jail time. It seemed just as much that Massive Dynamic had gotten off the hook as well, even though it was the experimental drugs that he'd taken---whether an accident or not, it wouldn't even be a headline in tomorrow's paper.

She couldn't sleep and though she tried, tossing and turning eventually she found herself grabbing her keys and leaving the apartment. She didn't know where she was going. A walk, a run. A jog through the park. Her feet found her way towards the street corner hailing a cab. She knew where she needed to be. She gave the driver the address and sat back, closing her eyes trying not to replay it all over in her head. It was hard not to. She'd seen and felt how frantic Walter was, terrified of losing his son again.

She didn't know what that meant. She didn't ask. It was clear he was distraught. She felt the same way, was just better at holding herself together.

She tried not to ponder the reason why Nina Sharp was able to get through to him. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to know. It was best left in the dark. Peter didn't need to know either.

Finally the cab pulled up out front the apartment complex. She paid the driver, stepping outside and walking up through stairs towards his door. She gave a hard knock, hoping he was awake. It wasn't incredibly late, just after ten. She needed to see him again, really see that he was okay. She hadn't gotten that moment alone with him that she'd wanted and though she called him, hearing his voice just wasn't enough.

She heard the lock slide back and the door slowly opened. "Hey, what are you doing here?" Peter answered the door, surprised to see her. He talked to her a little over an hour ago. He didn't expect to see her but the smile grew on his face, "come in."

"Thanks," she shuffled past him into the foyer, glancing around, getting a look at his apartment. She saw Walter's bed in the living room and saw him staring at her, watching them. She tried not to react. "You unpacked everything."

"Yeah, I did," Peter nodded remembering his father's lack of help in all of it. He sighed facing her, seeing that look and knowing she probably wanted to talk to him alone "you're not here about that." He led her down towards his room, closing the door behind them. As intimate as it felt to take her in here, he also knew it was the only source of privacy they could have. He needed that, craved that with her. It seemed as though she had too, seeing as she'd come by tonight.

Olivia smiled faintly, shaking her head, "no, I guess I'm not." She let out a heavy sigh glancing him over, unable to stop herself from reaching out, her fingers gently moving towards the bruise, careful not to cause him any pain. She tried not to think about the fact she was in his bedroom. She tried not to glance behind him at the bed or the sheets. She didn't want to let her mind wander late at night, her focus she wanted was to be entirely on him.

He winced as she reached out but her touch was gentle. "I'm okay, Livia. You didn't have to come by for that." He knew the reason she was here.

"I did," she breathed letting her fingers follow a path from his forehead down his cheek, her eyes staring at his lips for a moment. "I was worried about you and I wanted to tell you that---except everyone was there and you know how it is," she smiled awkwardly.

"No, go on and tell me," he smiled feeling the warmth of her touch against his skin.

"Peter," she laughed nervously, knowing how she felt about him but wondering if he had any idea about it. She couldn't just tell him, it wasn't that simple and kissing him, though she wanted to, badly, it wouldn't make it any easier. She saw the smile on his lips and his eyes were warm, watching her intently. "You're really okay?" She breathed a sigh of relief.

Peter nodded reaching for her hand on his cheek, bringing it towards his lips, kissing her palm. "I am." He watched her reaction and when she didn't pull back he leaned closer, guiding her hand down to the side as his lips brushed hers, tenderly at first, testing the waters.

She felt his lips against hers but her mind couldn't stop racing. As much as it should have calmed her, all the fears she had, she finally felt capable of telling him. "I was so worried about you, Peter."

He pulled her with him towards the bed, sitting down to talk. He wanted to kiss her, to keep kissing her but it seemed she was finally ready to open up and he wasn't going to throw that moment away either. "I'm here now," he breathed, his thumb stroking her cheek, his fingers finding their way into her hair. It was his turn to touch her. He watched her eyes heavy, her focus entirely on him. "It wasn't fun," he didn't lie to her, "and I'm sore as hell," crashing the car had been his only choice. "I'm here though, I'm alive and I'm fine. The way I see it," he smiled warmly, "at least I was still in the car when it crashed."

"That's not funny, Peter." She frowned remembering not that long ago her own encounter with an accident and what it had entailed.

"I'm fine," he leaned closer, but didn't brush his lips against hers again. "I'm glad you're here but I'm okay. I'm not under anyone's mind control, not anymore." He assured her.

Olivia nodded weakly, her eyes heavy as his fingers helped her relax, comforted her. "I just kept thinking the worst," she whispered, "I didn't want to, I just," a heavy sigh slipped past her lips. She was used to running at this point, not talking but escaping, making an excuse and dodging the inevitable bullets to come.

"You just, what?" He whispered leaning closer resting his forehead against hers.

"I can't do this job without you," she confessed. Her life revolved around the Fringe Division---working with Peter and his father. She couldn't imagine a life without him in it. She didn't want to imagine it.

Peter smiled, "that's what this is about, the job?" He knew better and he was gently trying to sway her into telling him what was really bothering her. He knew pushing would just push her farther away though.

Olivia shook her head, moving her face into his neck, finding strength in his warmth and the fact he was still alive. "I'm afraid of losing you." It was easier to say when he wasn't staring at her. She breathed in, smelling the scent of Peter Bishop. It was all around her.

"Well I'm still here," he smiled feeling her pulling back from the crook of his neck. His fingers stayed tangled in her hair as her eyes locked with his.

Leaning in she brushed her lips against his, deepening the kiss, shifting closer, her hand finding his chest, feeling his heart beneath her palm. "I just had to make sure you're still you," she smiled pulling back her heart pounding intensely.

Peter smiled, "I think I should do some further exploration, make sure you're still you, Olivia Dunham." He grinned leaning in brushing his lips against hers, his fingers moving to the back of her neck holding her to him.

"Worried I might be a shape-shifter?" She chuckled feeling his lips on hers. Her lips eagerly parted, feeling the kiss deepen as the moment intensified. Her eyes had long since closed, crawling back on the mattress, Peter following her every movement as she came to lie down, her head on his pillow.

He smiled against her lips, never having imagined this moment with her and certainly not having happened like this. His body straddled hers, coming to lie flush against her as she froze beneath him, hearing a knock on the bedroom door.

"Peter!" It was Walter's voice and her eyes stared up at him, the realization of what they were doing suddenly smacking her in the face. "I'm heading to bed. Tell Agent Dunham—"

"Go away, Walter!" He could see the look cross her face and he couldn't help but pray she didn't regret what just happened. Reluctantly, he rolled off her body, seeing her sitting up fixing her clothes, running a hand through her hair.

"I should go," she breathed pushing herself off the bed, suddenly wondering what she was doing here---in Peter's bed. She almost crossed the line she swore she wouldn't go over.

"Olivia, wait." He breathed watching her head for the door. He stood up, following after her, watching her brush past Walter making a bee-line for the exit. He felt a knot in the pit of his stomach as he watched the front door open and shut. She was gone.

Walter's voice echoed into the foyer from his bed. "Was it something I said?"

"Thank's a lot, Walter." Peter muttered heading down the hallway back towards his room, slamming the door shut.