A/N: Yes, yes, it has been far too long since this story was updated. Apologies. I'm kind of lazy. But we're nearing the end folks. All that's left after this chapter is an epilogue. Oh-and I think we can safely say that the Peter/Olivia aspects of this story have now become cannon :D

Summary: It's time for the final showdown. And Olivia knows that tonight, either they will die, or she will. Simple, clear cut...terrifying.

Chapter 5

If Nicolette was Superwoman, Olivia supposed she herself would be playing Lex Luthor. And Peter Bishop would be the Kryptonite. Except, they're the good guys—they're supposed to win. So why won't her hands stop shaking?

Probably because, in the end, the superhero always comes out on top.

Olivia paced the short hallway outside her office in Walter's laboratory. She paused every other lap to glance inside, where Peter was making phone calls, trying to rustle up Nicolette's location. From the look on his face, she gathered it was a dead end.

Sure enough, Peter emerged several moments later, shaking his head. "No one seems to know anything. Or if they do, they aren't telling."

Olivia scowled, and leaned against the door, crossing her arms. Peter winced. "I'm sorry, Olivia."

She blinked, and smoothed the anger from her face. She wasn't mad at him. "Don't apologize. This isn't your fault."

Peter laughed, but it sounded forced. "I worked with her."

Olivia blinked. "Worked with whom?"

"With Nicolette. We were partnered up for a while—the boss wasn't big on sending new recruits out without backup, and Nicolette'd been there for almost two years. He was worried we'd crack under pressure and turn ourselves in, or some shit like that."

"Wait, two years before you? How old is Nicolette?" She didn't look a day over twenty. Twenty five at the most.

"No one really knows for certain. I'd put her at thirty-four, maybe. A lot older than she looks, I know," he added with a grin, catching Olivia's stunned expression. "But I worked with her for three months, and I didn't notice anything."

"You couldn't have known, then," Olivia said, reassuringly. "And she might just have been very skilled at hiding any irregularities when you were together."

Peter shrugged and glanced away. "We were…close. For a while. I should have noticed."

"You were…oh. Oh." Olivia blushed a little, forcing down the irrational surge of jealousy. But at least now she understood Peter's strange reluctance to get involved physically with the case, and Nicolette's oddly flirtatious behavior.

Peter continued, "But I can see it now. She's worse than she was before, but there were signs back then, now that I know what to look for. Everyone was always so frightened of her. I never saw her kill anyone, but she probably didn't want me to. And the look in her eyes, last night—it was like she was a whole different person. Or maybe not even a person at all."

"A shark," Olivia offered, with a small smile, remembering her first impressions.

Peter laughed. "Yeah. Like a shark." Then he sobered, and said, "I think she's responsible for what happened to those people in the supermarket."

Olivia sighed. "Yeah."

Peter glanced over at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're going to have to take her out."

"Yeah." Olivia pushed away from the wall. "Let's go talk to Walter."

Astrid sat back on her stool and watched Walter as he bustled around the laboratory, grabbing bottles and setting them down, and then forgetting where he put them, and asking her where they were, and then starting the whole process over again.

She wasn't worried, though. He was humming the Indiana Jones theme song.

"You know, Walter," she said finally, "you're in a really good mood today."

"What? Oh! Yes, yes indeed," he glanced up at her, eyes twinkling behind plastic goggles, "It's because I am 97.69 percent certain that in the next five minutes, I will have the solution."

"The solution to what," Astrid asked patiently, "Walter?"

He went back to his microscope, "Why, our Superman—or should I say woman—dilemma."

The lab door creaked open, and Astrid heard Olivia say, "Finally!"

Peter was with her, and they came down the stairs together. The tension was draining out of Olivia's expression, and when she smiled at Peter she actually looked pleased. Peter attempted a smile, but Astrid could see the way it fell flat the moment Olivia looked away.

Looking energized, Olivia moved to Walter's side. "What have you got for us?"

Without looking up, Walter batted at her with his empty hand; the other was busy pouring precise samples of blue liquid into beakers. "One moment, please Agent Dunham, and you will receive a full report."

Olivia moved away and took a seat next to Astrid. Peter turned and walked into Olivia's office, closing the door quietly. Olivia didn't seem to notice—her eyes were locked on Walter's experiment.

"How long has he been working on this?" Olivia asked in a low voice.

Astrid shrugged. "A few hours, maybe. He's been cheerful, which is usually a good sign."

A sudden, deafening, "AHA!" made both women start. Olivia was on her feet instinctively, and Astrid clutched at her wildly beating heart with a gasp.

"I have it now, ladies!" Walter held up a small beaker containing a pale green liquid, his expression triumphant. His eyes scanned the room quickly, and his smile faltered. "Where is Peter?"

"I'm right here, Walter."

Peter stepped out of the office, closing the door quietly. Astrid noticed Olivia shoot him a curious look, to which he replied with a minute shake of his head. Then they all turned their attention back to Walter.

"Explain it to us, Walter," Olivia said.

"This," Walter brandished the beaker with dangerous enthusiasm—Astrid stepped forward and took it gently away before any of the liquid spilled, "is an antidote, of sorts, for the Superman Gene. It will latch onto the mutations in our speciman's DNA and reverse them, thereby also reversing the effects of the gene. All you must do is inject the antidote into the speciman's bloodstream. It should take effect within minutes."

"Minutes." Astrid could see the gears turning behind Olivia's eyes. She saw when something clicked. "Thanks, Walter. That's fantastic."

Peter came down the lab steps, moving purposefully toward Astrid. She offered him the beaker, and he took it with a nod of thanks. He turned, then, and put his hand on Olivia's forearm. "I'm coming with you."

Olivia looked at him for a long moment. Then, with a strange smile, said, "As you wish."

Nicolette paced the length of the room restlessly, like a caged animal. The harsh slap of her feet against the linoleum floor formed a sort of harmony against the measured breathing of the man who sat motionless on the couch behind her.

She glanced at the clock, irritation building. Peter had said to meet him here at eight o'clock, to discuss the best way to wrap up the FBI investigation, quickly and cleanly. No one implicated, everyone cleared of suspicion, no unnecessary deaths. Well, maybe a bit of the latter. But she hadn't told Peter that. He was rather softhearted, after all.

It was why she'd never hunted with him back when they were partners under Big Eddie's gang. She didn't want him to see her before he was ready for it. Something told her he was ready, now. He'd contacted her, after all.

A smile crept across her face. He wanted to see her again. He was coming home to her. He still loved her. He hadn't said it yet, not in so many words, but she knew. Julius would let her marry Peter, she was certain. After all, he'd said Peter would be all hers once they got whatever information Julius needed for Big Eddie.

And then they were gonna blow this joint, because it sucked, and Big Eddie had promised them a vacation. She was going to take Peter somewhere fun. Maybe Florida. She liked hunting gators—their jaws were almost as strong as hers, and in the water, they were deadly. Almost as deadly as she was. Almost a challenge.

But why weren't they here yet?

"Patience, Nicolette," came Julius' calm voice. "They will come."

They damn well better. It was probably his female partner, Nicolette thought viciously. The blonde bitch was keeping Peter from running to be with her. Well, let the girl enjoy her last few hours. After all, Nicolette was going to rip her to shreds before dawn. Maybe Peter would want to watch.

The idea was intriguing, and she paused in her pacing to consider it. Then she heard the footsteps on the stairs.

Julius lifted his head, eyes gleaming in the dark. She smiled slowly, and he raised a finger to his lips.

Shhh.

Olivia glanced at Peter for confirmation, then waved the other FBI agents off. "I'll take point. Peter Bishop will accompany me to facilitate negotiations. If we're not out in twenty minutes, assume we've been subdued or worse, and you have permission to enter by force."

The FBI Agent was a redheaded woman of about thirty five, with laugh lines etched around her mouth, and the corners of her eyes. But she wasn't laughing as she saluted Olivia, and turned back to repeat the orders to her team. Olivia stepped forward into the abandoned apartment building, and Peter followed.

The door closed with an ominous thump behind them.

They climbed the first flight of stairs in silence, straining to see in the darkness.

"Should have brought a flashlight," Olivia murmured.

"Yeah," Peter whispered.

Olivia stopped suddenly on the stairs, and turned to face him. He almost stepped into her, and grabbed the railing to keep from overbalancing.

"Olivia?"

She took a deep breath, and said quickly, "Peter, I just wanted to thank you for doing this. I know how dangerous this is, especially for you, and in case something happens—"

She leaned forward and kissed him.

Peter dropped the railing in shock, but then he was leaning closer and slipping his hands behind her head.

She pulled away after a moment, breathless. His teeth flashed white in the gloom as he smiled at her, and she felt something in her chest ease.

His hands fell away from her hair, and he whispered, "Let's do this."

She nodded and turned back to the stairs. Somehow they made it up all three flights without tripping—thank the stars for small mercies. It would have been very undignified to announce their arrival by tripping and falling down two flights of stairs and landing right in front of Agent Connors, whom she'd practically promised never to see again.

And now her mind was running in circles, like a hyperactive puppy. It was the nerves.

But all thoughts of fuzzy animals died away when they reached the third floor. Peter raised his hand, and knocked twice. There was no answer for two long minutes. Then, seemingly of its own accord, the door creaked open. Olivia stepped inside, and came face to face with Julius.

"Good evening, Agent Dunham," he said courteously.

Olivia nodded curtly, then glanced behind him. She found Nicolette lurking by the enormous couch a few feet away. Nicolette's eyes locked on hers, and Olivia was startled by the pure loathing that emanated from the girl.

"Nicolette," she said quietly, "you are under arrest for the murder of twenty seven individuals on the night of September 14th, in the supermarket at 120 N. Washington. You have the right to remain silent, as anything you say—"

Nicolette charged.

Olivia saw her come, almost as if it were in slow motion. There was no mistaking the look in Nicolette's eyes for anything other than madness, now. Then Olivia felt herself become airborne and she snapped into action.

She grabbed her gun and managed to squeeze the trigger twice before she hit the floor with a jarring thud. Nicolette howled like a wounded animal and kicked the gun out of Olivia's hand. Blood was gushing from a bullet wound in her stomach—the other must have gone wide.

The antidote!

With a sudden cold flash of fear, Olivia reached into the front pocket of her jacket. She relaxed slightly when her fingers brushed unbroken glass, and she pulled out the syringe, hiding it in the palm of her hand.

Nicolette was moving again now, more slowly than before, but the blood flow seemed to be stemming. Superhuman healing. It almost didn't seem fair. Nicolette lunged forward once more, in a fake, but Olivia moved with her and stabbed out with the syringe.

It caught Nicolette in the neck, too late. Nicolette took advantage of Olivia's nearness to grab her wrist. Olivia cried out as she felt the bone snap. Sharp, animalistic teeth closed on her shoulder, and bit through tissue and muscle, tearing with vicious force.

She was getting dizzy from rapid blood loss. Dimly, Olivia heard the sound of gunshots, three in quick succession. The pressure on her shoulder eased, and the steely hands dropped away from her wrist. Without that support, Olivia's legs refused to hold her up, and she crashed to the floor.

Darkness swirled before her eyes. She thought maybe someone was holding her hand, someone was screaming for help. Someone was whispering in her ear—

"Hold on Olivia, just hold on. Don't leave me."

But maybe she was imagining it all. The sounds were already fading into a pleasant humming noise. Maybe they had never been articulate in the first place, and the voices were figments of her exhausted mind.

Maybe this was what it felt like to die.

And softly, quietly, she felt herself slip away.

Fin.

(except for the epilogue)