Stealth

By ProdigalChicken

Rating: Light M

Disclaimer: I don't own them. But they were thrilled to be in this pic. They told me so.

Author note: I had to write a little piece set sometime in season 5. This fic is based on the Comic-Con trailer where we see Peter and Olivia discussing their kid, plus the fact that we know there's going to be a lot of stealthing around and havoc wreaking in the upcoming season.

Location: SAFE HOUSE 12

"Did you hear that?" Peter stopped mid thrust, his lips moving from Olivia's neck to her ear. Olivia moaned in frustration and strained to hear what Peter was hearing.

"No, Peter, I don't hear anything." She rolled her hips to try to force him back into action. The old bed they had laid claim to groaned with her effort- as did Peter. His head bent back towards her, his lips grazing hers once then again, teasing, tasting. For endless moments the room was filled once again with the sounds of kisses, moans, breathy declarations of love and want and desire, the creaking of an old iron bed and then a sudden stop, and another moan of female frustration.

"There," Peter whispered, "I swear, I heard something."

Olivia tried to get her breathing and heart rate under control enough to listen for the phantom noises Peter insisted were happening outside their heavily barricaded door. They were supposed to be alone here. Walter, Simon, Astrid, and Etta were at another safe house on the outskirts of the city. She and Peter had been on a recon mission that lasted longer than anticipated and they had been forced to hole up in one of the many resistance safe houses scattered throughout Boston. It was a rarity these days that the two had so much privacy, and they had been locked up tight inside all of five minutes before they both made a mad dash to the bed, stripping clothes as quickly as their fingers could fumble at buttons and zippers.

Just as she was about to admonish Peter and tell him to get his ass back in motion, she heard it. It was just a slight creaking of floor boards, but it was something, all right. She caught Peter's eye and nodded. As quietly as possible, they disengaged, grabbed for clothing, and armed themselves. Creeping towards the door first, Peter unlocked and quietly opened it. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out into the hallway with his gun aimed and at the ready where he immediately encountered another figure with her own weapon raised. For a breathless second, the two stared each other down, and then Peter smirked and relaxed his arm. Behind him, as her eyes adjusted to the dark, Olivia laughed quietly and wrapped her arms around Peter's waist, resting her head briefly against Peter's bare back.

"Shit, Dad," Etta Bishop said with a frustrated laugh, "you scared me to death."

"Me?" Peter asked, realizing for the first time that he was standing in front of his daughter half-naked. He quickly stepped back into the bedroom and grabbed his shirt from the floor. Pulling it over his head, he said, "What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be with the others."

"You didn't make it back, so I went out to find you," Etta shrugged helplessly, "I just couldn't wait until tomorrow to make sure you were safe." Olivia stepped forward and wrapped Etta in her arms understanding her daughter's fears and wanting to assuage them. "It's okay, baby," she whispered, "We're okay. We're okay." Etta nodded against her mother's neck, smiling as she felt her father's arms from the other side. She was trapped in a Bishop hug, and there was no other place she would rather be.

Breaking away after a moment, she looked at both her parents taking in their somewhat flushed appearances. Her eyes widened upon the realization of just what her parents had been up to in this empty house and just what the noises she had heard upon entering had been; she was suddenly embarrassed and chagrined. The fact that her parents were still young and in love was just another bizarre reality in her already screwed up world. Not that she thought her parents'. . .attraction and love for each other was screwed up. . .it was just something she was still in the process of getting used to. She had been adjusting to having both of her parents back in her life after twenty years of absence. Just that alone was exhilarating and scary and new. She saw the way they looked at each other, knew they wanted and needed each other, but she imagined feeling a little embarrassed in the presence of that kind of desire was a typical reaction a child would have. It was just that she had never been around it before. It would take some getting used to, but as long as she could have them in her life, she could deal with it.

"So yeah, I'm just going to head downstairs. There's a couch down there. You two go back to whatever. . . . you were . . .doing," she said with an awkward smile and began heading slowly back down the hall.

Peter and Olivia watched her walk away. Once Etta was out of sight, Peter pulled Olivia into his arms, and with his lips near her ear, he whispered, "I think that bed is out of the question."

Olivia smiled and pulled Peter back towards the bedroom. "We have to be very quiet, " she whispered back, her fingers already pulling at the button of his pants.

"I can be quiet," Peter replied, smiling, "I can be very quiet."

Downstairs, a young woman slept peacefully in the knowledge that her parents were safe and happy in the room upstairs and that even though the world was still a bleak place, it was getting just a little bit brighter every day.

-The end