One-shot fic, Bolivia with a bit of angst, fluff, gutter... the works. But mostly fluff and angst, so that'd be flangst, right? ;)

Spoilers... none really. Just a small reference to the Pilot.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fringe, or the rights over christmas tree lights. :P

Looking Without Seeing

She stood alone in the cold square. The air was still but frigid and the snow was falling softly, silently coming to nestle in her hair or on her long black coat. It was the coldest night of the year, and there she was. Standing there, starring blankly ahead of her at the thirty-foot Christmas tree that was beautifully adorned with bulbs and ornaments of every color, size and design and several fine strings of white lights; simple, but elegant. But she saw none of it.

Peter found her like that one night when he had just happened to be driving through that particular square. Getting out of the car at the other end of the open area, the thought crossed his mind that this was probably not the first time she'd been out here. He checked his watch. It was late, she should be at home and out of the cold… he ought to drive her home. Take care of her. Maybe stay for a while and make her coffee. Let her fall asleep warm, comfortable, happy, preferably curled up in his lap… Peter shook his head. He wouldn't let himself get carried away like that. He couldn't.

She was still standing exactly where she had been and hadn't moved an inch as Peter approached her from behind, cautiously. He didn't want to scare her. He came up on her right to stand level with her statue-like figure. She didn't even flinch at his approach. The tree lights strung up all around the square (and especially on the central tree before them) cast a golden glow on her features, brightening them with a certain radiance that highlighted her cheeks, flushed rosy-red from the cold, and her eyes, which looked so distant that she must have been miles away – somewhere in the deepest reaches of her mind. A small tear slid down her cheek and nearly froze in place.

Peter was slightly shocked. He had never seen her cry before. Without thinking, he reached out and gently touched her elbow.

"Olivia?"

She jumped. Her eyes were wary when they turned on his. Peter felt badly for disquieting her. "It's me, I'm sorry… I – I didn't mean to startle you," Peter apologized.

"That's ok, I didn't see you," she said convincingly, but her eyes betrayed her.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked softly, giving her elbow a small squeeze.

She stiffened and tucked a strand of hair out of her eyes, pulling her arm out of his grasp. It was a subtle motion, but Peter caught it. "I'm fine."

She was lying. "Now when you say that, then I know that something's wrong," he said with a small smile, praying that she would let her muscles relax and stop clenching her fists.

Olivia studied his face. She kept up her guard and her face grew stony. "I'm here to think. It's quiet… I like it."

"So I guess I disturbed your peace?" Peter asked, again offering her the tiniest hint of a smile. She turned back to face the tree.

"No, you didn't," she whispered. Peter read her body language: her hands shook slightly; her eyes couldn't rest on one spot for too long; her shoulders were losing their tension. She was trying to stay strong, to keep him blocked out, and he respected that.

They stood like that in silence for quite a while. Peter could only think about how cold Olivia must be, both inside and out. She was fighting herself, trying not to let Peter see her vulnerable, and he understood it. They were similar that way – neither liked being seen at a low state for fear of being taken advantage of or manipulated… or of simply losing control in the presence of someone who they cared about. Peter stiffened at the thought. Of course he cared about Olivia, but admitting it to himself was… oddly comforting, like he'd just passed a major bump in the road.

Finally, Olivia spoke softly, so much so that he cold hardly hear her. "I came here to… to breathe. You know?" She turned her head questioningly to Peter, seeking his understanding. He nodded in response, fully comprehending what she meant. "This place, when it's quiet like this, and especially at this time of year, with the lights and snow…" she trailed off and shrugged, at a loss of words. "It's my place where I come to give myself a break from the rest of the world."

Peter nodded, turning back to the tree and its lights in an effort to make himself stop gazing at her face. "It's a nice place."

She grew quiet again. Peter chanced a quick side-glance and saw her looking down at her snow covered boots, ones that were obviously not waterproof due to the dark patches of water that had already crept up to both the ankles of the boots. Olivia shivered. She tried to hide it, but to no effect.

"Hey," Peter said softly, taking a step closer to her, "You really should be out of the cold, especially with wet feet. You could get frostbite, y'know."

Olivia looked surprised that he'd noticed her wet boots but then quickly regained her composure. "Yeah, probably…" she nodded and gazed at the tree whose lights made her eyes sparkle with longing.

Peter felt badly making her leave her happy place, but he placed his hand on her forearm to help guide her away from the lights. "We can come back another time," he promised with a small wink. Seeing Olivia looking a little more reassured, Peter smiled at her, trying to provoke even the tiniest hint of the smile he loved to show itself.

And it did, and boy, was it beautiful, and heck yes it made Peter's heart skip a couple beats.

Olivia allowed herself to be steered toward her car, Peter's arm now around her shoulders. She thoroughly appreciated the gesture and leant in for warmth. Peter's mouth twitched as he tried to conceal his pleasure in her response to his body language.

Peter walked her all the way to her car door and saw that she was in safely. She scrolled down the window and Peter leant his head into the vehicle, grinning. "Now you go home, get some rest, make sure you warm up your feet, and whatever you do, don't work. Doctor's orders," he winked again.

"You're not my doctor," she reminded him, rolling her eyes.

Peter spread his hands innocently. "Doesn't mean I can't act like one, especially since you really need one."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you need taken care of every now and then. You're not Wonder Woman, 'Livia. You don't have to go it all alone all the time." He was being earnest now; his gaze was sincere. His hand was resting gently on top of her own and his thumb made small, comforting circles on the back of her hand.

For a minute, Olivia found herself unable to pull her eyes away from Peter, nor her hand away from his, and the circles kept getting more and more transfixing….

"I – I should go," Olivia managed to say, even if it came out a little too rushed, making her blush. "You're right, I need some sleep."

Peter nodded absent-mindedly, still gazing at her in a way that made her want to bring him home with her.

"See you tomorrow," she said quickly.

"See you," he said gently, his voice like a soft murmur, muffled by the softly falling whiteness.

A sudden, wild thought came into Olivia's mind, and before she knew it, she was leaning out the car window and planting a kiss on Peter's cheek. She didn't pull away quickly, but savored the moment, and let her lips linger on his cheek a second longer. When she pulled away, Peter didn't look one bit surprised, even though Olivia herself suddenly felt a bit warm in the face, even though she'd been freezing cold not a minute before. She pursed her lips, blushing madly, just as she had the day she'd asked Peter to stay in Boston… that moment felt like it had happened both years ago or simply yesterday.

"You're welcome," he said, responding to her unvoiced thoughts and flashing her one of those handsome-as-hell smiles. With a gentle grazing of his fingers against her hand, Peter turned and began trekking his way through the snow to his car.

Olivia started her car as though she were in a trance. As much as she tried to push the memory out of her mind, she found herself mentally reliving the kiss over and over again the whole drive home.

Peter's your friend, don't make this more complicated than it has to be, the voice of reason whispered in her ear. Olivia shook her head to clear it. Reason had been John, but that was over now; there was no going back to that fantasy. She couldn't be afraid to reach out to Peter, especially since it seemed that he was more than willing to open up to her.

Arguments and counter arguments bounced back and forth in Olivia's head until she was unlocking the door to her apartment and a single thought struck her: she'd been able to do more productive thinking during the drive than in the quiet, beautifully lit square. She let out a small, almost automatic laugh at the name that immediately popped into her head. "Oh, Peter…" she sighed, unable to wipe the smirk off her face as the door swung closed behind her.

So?

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