Many thanks, as always, to the incomparable OConnellAboo, for her advice, inspiration, editing, and general amazingness. This man cave's for you!

Thanks also to CorwinOfAmber for the idea of Peter's hidden stash, from her great story, "Bugout Bag".

All characters property of Bad Robot, Fox, WB, et al. No inFringement intended.

Sunday

It was Sunday morning, and they were piled up in Olivia's bed, drinking coffee and poring over the real estate section of the Press. A sheaf of photos and a realtor's presentation notebook were spread out on one side of the bed; the rest of the paper, now abandoned, was at the foot.

Olivia was snuggled close to Peter, her head on his shoulder as he flipped the pages of the paper. Every now and then, she'd point to a listing, and he'd dutifully circle it in red.

Peter kissed Olivia's forehead and slid out of bed. "Want some more juice?" He held up his empty mug.

Olivia shot him a dirty look as she handed him her empty glass. "Maybe some of the papaya this time." She looked at him slyly. "With a side of coffee."

He waggled his finger at her. "Ah ah, ahhh, not gonna happen." He managed to dodge in time and the pillow hit the door frame as he walked towards the kitchen.

She smiled as she watched his lanky frame, clad only in boxers, strolling across her living room. He had been an almost constant presence ever since she came home from the hospital, ever since she given him The News, as they'd begun to refer to her pregnancy. Even though she was only a few months gone, she was starting to feel the effects, and Peter was always there, running to the corner market or across town for her latest food fancy, bringing her crackers, ginger ale, and cool compresses when the proverbial morning sickness struck, all the while smiling at her as if she'd just given him the most amazing gift in the world….

Just like he was smiling at her now, as he handed her a large glass of pinkish-orange juice. He set his own tumbler of water on the side table next to his phone and watch.

"I thought you wanted more coffee?" she asked him, sipping her juice.

"I figured it was hard enough doing without – I don't need to wave it under your nose." Peter sat back in bed and pulled her close.

"Aw, I don't even get to sniff it, either?" Olivia put on her best pitiful look and turned to Peter.

Peter rubbed his nose against hers, then chuckled. "Whatever you want, dear," he said grandly, as he started to get out of bed again.

Olivia grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "You've got to stop waiting on me hand and foot," she laughed. "You'll spoil me!"

He leaned back and removed the juice glass from Olivia's hand, setting on the table. "That's the idea." Pulling her into an embrace, he nuzzled her face again. "I'm trying to build up brownie points so you won't kill me when the hormones kick in."

"mmm…" Olivia settled into his embrace, then slid her hand over the front of his boxers, getting an immediate response. "I think some of those hormones are already kicking in."

Peter cupped her face in his hand and smiled. "Whatever you want, dear," he murmured as he kissed her deeply. Olivia tangled her fingers in the short curls at the back of his neck and hummed contentedly. He shifted against the pillows and pulled her closer, enjoying her warmth against him.

He ran his fingers through her hair over and over as he alternated kisses between her lips and her neck. Peter, being a quick learner, had already determined that Olivia's moods were mercurial; even more than usual, he let her set the pace, whether it be running through the park, touring houses, or in bed.

Olivia ran her hand over Peter's shoulder, mindful that it was still sore from fighting Jones on the rooftop… her 'Jedi Knight' trick, as Peter laughingly called it. She continued down his chest, lightly running her nails over him. She achieved her desired effect; when she reached his cock, he was eager for her touch.

Leisurely, they kissed and snuggled; since the events on the Talos, the world had settled back to its usual catastrophes, giving the Fringe team, and especially Peter and Olivia, an unfamiliar lull in activities. They'd still been busy – looking for houses, enjoying spring in Boston, and here, in bed.

Olivia leaned back into the pillows and tugged on Peter's good shoulder. He responded by nuzzling her neck and oh-so-gently pulling her over to straddle him. She made a disapproving face that softened as he cupped her breasts in his hands.

Peter knew what Olivia said (it's too soon for anything to show) but her breasts were fuller, heavier in his hands already. He ghosted his thumbs over her nipples, smiling as they hardened under his touch. Olivia shivered, and Peter immediately dropped his hands, a look of worry on his face.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" His hands settled on her hips gingerly.

Olivia closed her eyes, willing her temper into submission. She grasped Peter's hands and replaced them on her breasts, then squeezed them.

"Peter," she exhaled, her frustration with him showing. "I talked to Doctor Evans. I won't break."

Peter's jaw clenched, although he didn't say anything.

She leaned forward, placing her hands on his chest. "You can't hurt me, you can't hurt the peanut."

He looked at her with a growing smile at her use of their nickname. "But…"

Olivia looked directly at him, and slid her body over his. Her warmth and slickness made his cock jump and he instinctively pushed against her. As she leaned closer to his chest, his hands drifted from her breasts down the curve of her back and curled around her ass. "I told her about you," she whispered, as she slid over him again; Peter groaned and tried to still her movement by grasping her hips.

Two can play at this, he thought. "Told her what?" he growled as he nibbled her collarbone. He was rewarded by a faint blush, but she continued to move over him. He took a deep breath; her movement, her heat, her slick lips enveloping him were pushing the bounds of his restraint. He wanted to drive into her and feel that warmth surround his cock, he wanted to lose himself in her scent and her embrace. It was the one place where he felt safe. He held back, took another deep breath.

"What did you tell her, Livia?" He nuzzled her neck, finding that spot she liked so much under her ear.

"Ahhhh….." Olivia pulled away from him slightly and looked at him with hooded eyes. While the blush still graced her cheeks, her lips curved with a mischievous grin. "I told her that there was an exception to the old story about big hands and feet…."

Peter arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"… but that you weren't it. That... "

"Okay, okay, I get it."

"Peter, you aren't going to hurt me. Stop treating me like you're afraid to touch me." She leaned back into a sitting position, still surrounding Peter's cock with the warmth of her body.

"Then why did you jump when I touched you, Livia?" Peter settled his hands at her waist and looked at her, waiting for her answer.

Olivia took his hands, and pressed a kiss to the palm of each one before putting them back on her breasts. Peter cupped them again, but more gently this time.

"I jumped because they're more sensitive."

Peter froze.

"And because it feels good, Peter." She placed her hands over his and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples as he'd done before.

Peter looked up at her. Olivia's eyes were closed, and her hair floated over her shoulders. As he continued to touch her, her body undulated in response and she drew a deep breath. Every time he rubbed her hardened nipples, she moved against his cock and he struggled to keep his self control.

"Olivia… I just don't want anything to happen to you," Peter said raggedly.

She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. "I know…"

"Or to the baby."

"I know, Peter. We're fine. We're all fine."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but Olivia kissed him before he could say anything else. "Shhhh, Peter." She raised her body slightly until his cock was poised at her entrance, teasing him again. "No holding back, or I'm kicking you out of bed. Understood?"

Peter looked at her wordlessly; his reply was in his smile. He rolled her to her back and sank into her, balancing his weight on his good left arm. Soon, the papers and folders hit the floor.