We've Got A Situation (Part Three)

Disclaimer: Something happened with the contract I signed (Apparently it needed to be done in front of three witnesses or something fancy like that), so Fringe still isn't mine. Darn.

Summary: Olivia awakes to something… surprising.

The final part is here guys! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. So without further ado: Part three.

Olivia sighed, stretching out her arms. She felt as if she had slept a great deal longer than usual, and was going to pay the price. Coffee, her half-asleep brain told itself. I need coffee. Olivia rolled over in defeat and opened her eyes.

What the hell?

What was Peter Bishop doing in her bed? And why was Ell – oh. Olivia felt the color rise in her cheeks. She had been too busy talking (Or perhaps a better term would be flirting? Not that Olivia or Peter would ever own up to it) with Peter the night before to realize what day it was. She vaguely remembered Rachel calling anxiously asking if Ella could stay the night while she went to Chicago to meet with her lawyer. Some aunt I am, Olivia groaned internally. I can't even remember when to be home.

But that still did not explain why Peter was here. Or why he looked so good when he slept. Something about the way the light fell through the window and struck his brown hair, sending its shattered light into a billion shards that blanketed him and Ella. His face was smooth and shockingly innocent looking; all evidence of his sarcasm and sharp looks gone. Peter had an arm wrapped around Ella in an almost protective manner and her face was hidden against his chest. The pair never looked more like father and daughter than they did in that one moment before they awoke. Olivia could not help the small smile that crossed over her lips, causing her olive green eyes to spark.

Perhaps Charlotte had called him? Olivia recalled that Rachel mentioned getting the girl to watch Ella while Olivia was at work. It could not have been hard for the baby-sitter to get his number; Peter was third on her speed-dial, after all.

Plausible. But how did she get home and why was he still here? Not that she strongly objected – Olivia had no problem with letting Peter (or Astrid or even Walter) stay the night if need be. But not in her room and not in her bed.

I should wake them up, Olivia thought, looking over their sleeping forms at the clock. It's already eight and Broyles is expecting us at half past nine for that report on the dogs. She reached hand over to her slumbering niece and gently shook the girl into consciousness.

"Ella? Come on baby girl, it's time to get up."

"Whah?" Ella asked groggily, her eyelids fluttering open. " Ah… Aunt Liv?"

"Rise and shine! You want to make pancakes?" Olivia asked, struggling to keep the conversation as "normal" as possible.

"Yeah!" Ella grinned, sitting up and rubbing the residue of sleep from her eyes.

"And, Ella? Why…. Why is Peter here?" Olivia questioned in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.

But at that moment, Peter decided to open his mouth. "Five more minutes, Walter," Peter groaned, burying his head into the pillow.

Ella put her hands over her mouth, stifling a laugh. She leaned close to her aunt and whispered, "Peter told me a story. It was about people who saved the world! But then I fell asleep. I don't remember the ending. But you were in it, Aunt Liv! I think." she added thoughtfully.

"Peter brought me home?" Olivia asked, surprisingly touched by this thoughtful gesture. She remembered him offering her a ride and getting into the car, but everything else was fuzzy. He could have just let her sleep there with a blanket thrown over her.

"Yeah, he carried you like you were a baby!" Ella laughed, evidently finding the image of her aunt as an infant very funny.

Olivia fought the smile, but lost. Again. They were both bad at that, were they not?

"Peter?" Olivia leaned over her niece and whispered in his ear, her lips coming dangerously close to his skin. "It's a bit after eight."

"Livia?" Peter bolted upright, causing their heads to clash. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry –"

Ella was rolling on the bed laughing hysterically between them.

Olivia just grinned at him, rubbing the side of her head with a hand. "I forgive you. But if I have a bruise, I'm pretty sure assault on a federal agent gets you jail time, Bishop."

Ella laughed even harder.

Peter shifted back with a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and looked between the sobering-up Ella and the lighthearted Olivia. "I fell asleep, didn't I?" he sighed, closing his eyes.

"Yes," Olivia answered honestly.

"I'm sorry; I was planning on just taking you in, but that girl, Carla or whatever her name was, was here and then Ella woke up, and –"

"Ella wants pancakes. How about we make them while she gets dressed and ready for school?" Olivia interrupted him, her eyes saying more than her words.

"You have to go to school?" Peter asked the girl, his bright eyes widening. "You didn't tell me that!"

Ella grinned. "You never asked, Uncle Peter."

Peter groaned, swinging his legs off the bed. "Pancakes it is," he looked up at Olivia who had gotten out of bed and was running her fingers through her long blonde hair in front of the mirror.

They watched Ella bound out of the bedroom and waited until she was out of earshot and rummaging through her overnight bag before either of them spoke.

"Livia," Peter started.

Olivia looked back at him, her eyes a bit distant.

"Trust me; this is just as awkward for you as it is for me. I should've left as soon as she fell asleep, no. I should have just tucked her in and said good –"

"Thank you."

"What?" Peter asked, startled.

"For bringing me home. Ella said you carried me in?"

"Yeah… wait. She was asleep when I came in. How would she know?"

"Ella's good at faking. She gets Rachel all the time. If she wants to be an actress, she's got enough drama going for her."

"She would be a good actress," he said fondly, looking out into the main room. When he turned back to her, his expression was serious. "I hope me sleeping here didn't mess anything up. I - you know how important you are to me. And I don't want you to think I was trying to hit on you or do anything to Ella - I love that kid. I would never want to do anything to hurt either of you. I… Can we just forget about it? Say it never happened?"

"Why?" Olivia smiled, the light in her eyes dancing mischievously. "Are you afraid?"

"Of what Walter will say? Absolutely. And you should be too. Guess how long it will take him to start asking when you're moving in and what we're going to name the baby."

"What baby?"

"Exactly," Peter sighed.

"Are the pancakes ready yet?" Ella's shrill voice interrupted their conversation.

"You're dressed already?" Peter called out. "Why don't I believe you?"

Ella laughed from the other room.

"I'll play with her if you make her breakfast," Peter offered, turning to Olivia who was buttoning up her suit jacket.

"That'd be great. Make sure she is wearing socks, okay? Apparently they were doing something in gym class and she got in trouble…." Olivia trailed off.

"Socks it is."

"And, Peter? What do you want in your pancakes?"

"Doesn't matter as long as they're whale-shaped," Peter grinned.

"You have to be kidding me," Olivia muttered in mock disappointment and stalked out of the bedroom.

Peter followed her out, pausing to look at a photograph that had been placed down on her dresser. He lifted it up, careful not to move anything else. John Scott, Peter grimaced darkly. I guess she'll never really get over him. No matter how long it's been. Peter threw the photo back down, not casting it a second glance.

Peter made sure Ella was wearing socks (pink ones to match her headband) and Ella showed him all the pictures of ponies she had colored within the last week. Peter took it in stride, feigning interest so well it seemed real and asking questions in a serious voice. Ella loved it.

Olivia prattled about the kitchen, moving things around and wishing she had cleaned up the day before. She made breakfast just the way Ella liked it – plain pancakes with butter and lots and lots of syrup – and even attempted Peter's whale-shaped ones, which turned into a total mess.

"Food's ready!" Olivia called, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Huh. This is what it's like to have a family, she mused. She leaned back against the counter, listening to Ella's excited "Race you!" and the sound of two pairs of feet running into the tiny kitchen.

"You know you're not supposed to run in the house," Olivia scolded, looking firmly at the two.

"Uncle Peter started it," Ella explained, grabbing a stack of pancakes and smothering them in syrup.

"Sure he did," Olivia grinned, catching Peter's eye.

The conversation stayed at easy subject matter; nothing too serious or alarming. Olivia and Peter kept up the family façade and Ella loved it. Whenever the discussion reached a lull, Ella bombarded the pair with questions about anything from their work to the possibility of Rachel getting her a puppy.

If the Observer was observing them, they looked like a perfectly happy family. No superheroes trying to save the city, no dead guys popping out of corners, no monsters chasing them down, no major corporations whose motives were unclear. Just a normal Monday morning.

"C'mon, Livia," Peter said, placing the last wet dish on the rack. "Broyles is expecting us, at what? Nine? Nine-thirty?"

"Yeah," Olivia sighed, getting up from the table and grabbing her bag. Making sure Ella was preoccupied with other matters, she clipped her gun to her belt.

"We picking up Walter and Astrid, or did he want just us?"

"I think we'll do it. Astrid said she was going to visit her sister today and Walter…"

"He's probably overdosed on something ridiculous and is in the process of destroying the kitchen."

"When you put it like that, you make him sound crazy."

"Livia," Peter said exasperated. "He is crazy."

With a shake of her head she called out, "Ella! We're leaving. And if you're not in the car in one minute –"

Ella was a fast runner.

They dropped Ella off at her school and Olivia promised to pick her up at three. Hopefully she'll let me down easy when I have to break that one, Olivia thought.

Peter and Olivia's meeting with Broyles went without a hitch, and he sent them away once he collected all of their reports, which he planned on passing on to Nina Sharp. See what she made of the mutations, seeing as they seemed to have Massive Dynamic written all over them.

The pair returned to the lab to find Walter sitting with his head under a commercial ketchup dispenser.

Some things never changed.

Before Peter could think of some sarcastic comment that would suffice the totally odd sight they walked into, Olivia's phone rang.

"Dunham, get the Bishops and bring them to Newbury Street, Boston. We've got a situation."

Hope you liked the odd ending. I've been debating over this for weeks, but I just went with it. Sick of all the rewriting.

It'd be awesome if you could leave a review saying what you hated, what you liked and where I totally went wrong. But, hey. I would say it's a free country, but I'm sure that a lot of you are from all over the world. So whatever you chose to do, have fun with it. And never take life (or this story) seriously. Because no one gets out alive anyway.

Until inspiration strikes with a new story, over and out.