fringekink_mod: Olivia Dunham with flowing hair...and a Santa hat + caption (secret santa olivia)
[personal profile] fringekink_mod posting in [community profile] fringe_kinkmeme
In a festive mood for Fringe? For a gift exchange of fiction, art including icons, or vids?

Then you're about to enter the right universe:


1.
To SIGN UP, all you need to do is add a comment to this very post containing your request.

Sign-ups are between now and 1 Novemberclosed now. All the requests will be jumbled up and sent back out by 6 November.


2.
RESPONSES to gift requests are to be posted between 16 and 23 December --

ideally anonymously (with your reveal after Christmas, i.e. after 25 December, in your own fanspace). Two ways to do this:

a) Add your response as an anon comment to the request you've been matched up with. (For fic, that allows for roughly 3,000 words in one comment, multiples of course encouraged. Vids & art are trickier, but only a bit.)

b) Jot down the link to the actual response in a blog, on the AO3 (pseudonyms option suggested), or any other platform. (If you need an invite code for the AO3, tell us, and you'll have it in no time.)

If anon doesn't work for you -- no dummy accounts possible, or your working hours look a lot like Olivia's -- that's fine; post the link to your own fanspace with the response. Just, don't tell Alt!Astrid.


3.
Please don't sign up if you believe you'll be unable to complete a request given to you.

If you realise you can't make it, please tell us as early as possible, and we will try to organise a pinch hitter so that your recipient isn't left without a gift at the end of the fest.


4.
Now!

To join the exchange, post a request with the following information:
Blog: [DW handle] OR [LJ handle] OR [AO3 account] OR [ff.net handle] OR [...]
E-mail: Should of course be working.
Things I'd like: Please request at least three things here...but ultimately feel free to add as many things as you'd like at this point. Doesn't mean you'll get them all, but there's no harm in asking, and it ensures you get a great Secret Santa match. If you'd like a specific pairing or character, then speak now or forever hold thy peace. Don't forget to ask for icons or vids too -- we all know the likelihood is low in a small fandom such as this one, but hey. Worth a shot!
Things I wouldn't like: If there's anything you wouldn't like to receive (pairing in a fic, French electropop for your vid, bright-green textures in your icons) then here's the place to mention it. Without character-, pairing-, or kink-bashing, of course.
What I can do: Are you great at a certain genre (gen, het, slash)? Are you the specialist for writing specific character/s or pairing/s? One of the excellent Fringe vidders out there, or an icon-maker with aspirations? One of the folks on tumblr who brighten every Fringe fan's day? As ever, specifics are great so your match brings you tears of happiness instead of, you know, the opposite.
What I can't do: If there's anything you feel you can't do, then please say so here. Same disclaimer as above applies.
Pinch hitter?: In the event of someone not being able to complete their gift are you willing to be stand-in writer, artist, or vidder?
The Fringe Secret Santa is open to fanfic, fanart including icons, and fanvids; on the fic side everything goes -- all we ask for is a minimum wordcount of 750, that kinks are tagged and warnings included.

Happy holidays! And thanks to the ever-excellent mods over at [community profile] sga_santa, from whom the template for this text is snagged with permission.

Feel free to snag this Fringe Secret Santa icon. More yet to come...

<||:)>

Date: 2011-10-25 03:08 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
(TAKE 2)
Blog: tvnut014.livejournal.com
Email: rocky_grrl@hotmail.com
Things I'd like: Fics involving my favourite pairing Peter/Olivia, gen or het. And if the fic could involve a mystery, that would be awesome. Fluff is always welcome with me, but some conflict is good too. :) (So Peter/Fauxlivia is okay in the case of conflict xD) icons and vids and videos of Peter/Olivia area also always welcome. Also, any icon featuring Walter and/or Gene. That would totally make my day! (And any rating is fine. ANY rating.) :)

Things I wouldn't like: Peter/Fauxlivia, or Peter/Astrid, and no character death please! (Unless it isn't permanent. Or unless there is a declaration of love first. xD)

What I can do: I can definitely write fics! I am best at het, I don't usually do gen (but it can be easily done), and I can attempt to do slash. I've written it for friends before so I can attempt to do so here. I'm definitely comfortable with working on Polivia stuff. I'm just starting to get into the realm of making icons but I would definitely love the chance to work on more.

What I can't do: I should specify, I can't really do femslash. But again I suppose I could try, however it wouldn't be too graphic. And I can't do vids. (Sorry!)
Pinch hitter? Sure! I could stand in as a writer.

Date: 2011-12-22 04:21 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Peter’s first thought wasn’t a thought as such, more an automatic response to stay alive: flailing his arms, kicking his legs, and then a deep gasp of air as his head broke the surface of the water. This time there were no father and son in a fishing boat to come to his rescue.

On the plus side, Peter reflected, it wasn’t winter and he wasn’t freezing to death below a ceiling of ice.

It took him a couple of seconds orientate himself – it wasn’t like he came here for fun – before he headed for the far shore.

Why was it he always seemed to go under as far away as possible from any civilization?

It wasn’t until he was nearing the shore that he realized that he was also naked.

“Perfect,” Peter muttered as he felt his feet touch bottom.

Not only did he have no idea which universe he was in, but he had no idea when it was, both in terms of the date and the hour.

From the forest he heard the sound of running feet and he froze. He was literally as naked as the day he was born and had no way to defend himself. Resigned to getting hauled in for indecent exposure, Peter waited where he was, cool water lapping softly just under his sternum, to find out what his fate would be.

This time he wasn’t saying a word until he figured out where he was.

Two military-looking types broke through the trees and skidded to a stop. While they weren’t wearing fatigues, they were dressed entirely in black; black ball caps, black t-shirts, black BDU pants, and black army boots. More worrying was the fact that they both had guns strapped to their right thighs. The one on the left smirked at him and crossed his arms; the one on the right kept her eyes fixed squarely on Peter’s.

“Can I ask what you’re doing here, sir?” the woman asked in a no-nonsense voice.

“I’m not exactly sure.” Peter crossed his arms and felt foolish, but there was no helping the fact that he was buck naked and had no idea how he’d gotten here. Though at an educated guess, Peter figured ‘here’ was Reiden Lake.

“Can I asked what happened to your clothes?” asked her counterpart. Peter could hear the amusement in his voice as he leaned a shoulder against a tree trunk.

“I’m not exactly sure about that either.” Peter grinned sheepishly. Experience had taught him that the less threatening he looked, the better the outcome of any particular situation.

“If you wait where you are, sir,” said the woman, “I’ll get you a blanket from the shack.”

“Thanks.” Peter smiled gratefully at her.

“Want to tell me how you got here?” asked the man as his partner disappeared back into the trees.

“I wasn’t trying to be evasive before; I have no idea how I got here. I have no idea what I’m doing here. And, no, I have no idea where my clothes are.”

Though he was trying, Peter couldn’t make out any distinguishing markings or patches to give him the smallest clues as to which universe he’d found himself in. He couldn’t even tell if the guards were private or military. If he had to venture a guess, Peter would put money on them both being ex-military now employed by the private sector. However, he couldn’t even begin to speculate as to why they were out here.

“Do you know where you are?” the man asked in the deceptively relaxed manner of those trained in a very specialized, very deadly, form of combat interrogation.

“Reiden Lake.” Peter tried not to let it sound like too much of a question.

“Where did you come from?” The tone stayed mild, but Peter could see the man’s eyes assessing everything, despite the smirk and relaxed stance.

“Look, I’m naked, getting colder by the second, and feel like I haven’t eaten in a week. I don’t have any answers for you. Not because I’m hiding anything, but because I really have no idea how I ended up here.”

Which wasn’t exactly true, but Peter wasn’t going to start explaining his hypotheses about alternate universes, diverging timelines, mistakes in the slipstreams of the world, and Observers who somehow seemed to get involved far more than their name suggested.

Before the guy could ask him any more questions, the woman came back with a standard issue grey wool blanket folded over her left arm.

“I’ve radioed back to HQ and they’re sending a jeep,” she addressed them both, again looking him directly in the eyes. “I’m going to turn my back.”

“Thanks,” Peter said.

“Don’t be too grateful,” the man said sardonically, “I’m not going to turn around.”

“Usually, I get my date to buy me a drink and fries before I let them see me naked.” Peter said, smiling wryly.

“Think of me as love at first sight type of date,” the man shot back.

“Can I at least know your name?” Peter inquired.

“Bill Black,” the man told him. “My partner, Jill Green.”

“For real?” Peter stared at him incredulously.

“If I was going to make up names, don’t you think I would have done better?”

“Fair enough.”

“If you two are done flirting, do you think that Mr. Bishop would like to get out of the water so we can get back to monitoring the lake?” Jill asked, addressing her partner before turning her back.

“How do you know my name?” Every muscle in Peter’s body tightened when she said his name. And though he knew it was hopeless, he tried to figure out a way to escape.

“Since you disappeared the second time, the lake has been cordoned off and we’ve set up twenty-four hour surveillance,” Bill informed him as Peter made his way out of the water.

Shocked, cold, and more than a little worried, Peter wrapped the blanket around himself.

“How long was I gone?”

“Seventeen months,” Jill informed him when he and Bill walked up to stand next to her. “There are a lot of people who are going to be very interested in your return. Welcome home, Mr. Bishop.”

Home could mean just about anywhere and anytime. Numbly, Peter followed them into the woods, automatically skirting the twigs and small rocks in the path as his mind whirled at the possibilities.

# # #

This time, he kept his mouth firmly shut, pleading ignorance to pretty much every question anyone asked him. It was too late to pretend he didn’t know his own name, but experience was one hell of a teacher and he refused to say anything else until he talked to someone he knew and he could take his cues from them.

“Peter?”

The voice was familiar, as was the blond hair, but Peter had no idea which version of Olivia had just slipped silently into the room while he was staring out the window. Peter had been so caught up in figuring out a strategy for surviving this world that someone – Olivia – had managed to enter the room without him being aware.

“So it would seem.” He steeled himself against the flood of emotions that washed over him; happiness and worry, joy and sorrow, friendship and desire. The love he felt, would always feel, was both incredible joy and gut-ripping pain.

“Where were you?” Olivia asked as she walked up right into his personal space, her eyes searching his for answers he couldn’t give.

“I don’t know.” It took a physical effort not to reach out and touch her, but he’d been fooled by clever doubles before. And his last memory was stepping aside when he realized that the woman who was so like his Olivia wasn’t quite right and would never be his lover.

“Peter?” Olivia cocked her head and worry filled her eyes. “Do you know who I am?”

“You’re Olivia Dunham.” That, he figured, he could answer without revealing too much. Not that he really had all that much to reveal besides confusion and hopes barely surviving the repeated bludgeonings of fate.

There were just too many variables for him to know if this Olivia is his Olivia.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Studying blueprints.” It was another safe answer that also had the happy coincidence of happening to be true. If it turned out he was back with Olivia 2.0, he didn’t want to say anything that could cause her to want to lock him up.

The fact he once again found himself in a world so similar to his that he couldn’t currently tell them apart hurt. That he couldn’t just pull Olivia into his arms and hold her until his world made at least the smallest bit of sense was tearing him apart.

Not that any of that was anything Peter was willing to talk about right now. That he might almost be home, but not quite, might almost be with her, but not quite, hurt too much to bring up if once again it turned out he was in the wrong time, wrong place.

“You have been gone for nearly a year and a half. Your…” Tears gathered in her eyes as she trailed off. “Your body was found on the shores of Reiden Lake eight months ago.” Olivia took a huge step back from him and crossed her arms. “The body showed no signs of decomposition.”

Shock Peter didn’t think he was capable of feeling rocked him back a full step. Dead. They thought he was dead in this universe. Again. Or maybe just for the first time as he really didn’t know where he was.

“You buried me?” The pain on Olivia’s face was plain to see and Peter couldn’t help but stepping forward, trying to offer her whatever comfort he could.

“Where have you been?” she whispered, voice achingly filled with loss that nearly brought him to his knees.

“I don’t know.” At this point, he would gladly tell her if he knew, just to try and ease some of the agony that he could feel coming off of her in waves. If this wasn’t his Olivia, then she was one that was just as in love with him as his was.

They stood in silence for countless minutes just studying the other, weighing the person in front of them, trying to determine what to say. Out of the four Olivias he’d had contact with, two of them had loved him. Or maybe it was the same one, just at different times. And one fooled him into believing that she loved him as much as he loved her.

“Stegosaurus?” Olivia finally whispered.

“Olivia?” Peter asked, hardly daring to believe that the woman standing in front of him was his Olivia.

“Stegosaurus,” she repeated, staring at him with tears in her eyes.

“Pale Blue Eyes,” he responded.

Unable to hold back any longer, Peter was next to her in two strides, wrapping his arms around her. From the way her arms banded around him and her shuddering breaths, Peter couldn’t help but accept that while he might be out of time, he was most definitely back where he belonged.

Part of the fallout from FauxLivia was a secret code between them, one that she had to say without any prompting from him, to confirm her identity if there was ever any question. As far as they could tell, there was just one Peter Bishop, but it didn’t hurt to be careful, so he had an answering phrase.

“Where have you been?” she asked again, her face buried in his neck.

“Honest to god, Olivia, I have no idea.” When he started to pull back, her arms tightened around him. Freeing his arm from around her back, Peter ran a soothing hand down the sleek fall of her ponytail over and over again.

“No burrowing,” she mumbled, her breath still hitching against his throat.

“Promise,” he said, even as his other hand rubbed a couple of circles over the small of her back.

She pulled back from him, searching his face. “Jerk.”

Whatever else she wanted to say, he cut off with his lips on hers. It felt like it had been years since he’d last held her, months since he’d last kissed her. And from the desperate way she was returning his kiss, it must have been the same for her.

“I love you,” she whispered when they broke apart.

“I love you too,” he answered, wondering exactly how long she’d waited to hear him return her sentiment. From the fleeting smile and the joy in her eyes, too long.

And then he didn’t care, because her lips were on his again, and her tongue was seeking entrance into his mouth. She tasted like home and safety, like a thousand private moments and a million hopeful dreams.

Peter wasn’t sure where he’d been or why he’d been. He carried with him memories of two different times, two different Olivias since he’d last seen his and he didn’t give a damn.

All he wanted was never again to be far away from the woman in his arms. He held on to her as tightly as he dared, terrified that she would disappear if he didn’t.

Shudders shook his body – relief and joy – and seemed to engulf Olivia. Together they broke the kiss, but didn’t pull too far apart and he rested his forehead against hers.

“I want to go home,” he said, hoping she knew he meant he wanted to go back with her, wherever she was going.

“Soon,” she promised, pulling back to look at him. It seemed as if she couldn’t get enough of just looking at him. “I just want to stay here for a little while longer.”

“Okay,” he murmured, wrapping one arm around her waist as he stroked the tears away. Just once, he would like to not have caused her so much pain that she cried because of him. That the pain was mixed with a bittersweet joy at his return didn’t erase the initial cause.

“I missed you,” Olivia said, cupping his face with her hands, then slowly traced his eyebrows, the rise of his cheeks, the line of his jaw.

“I missed you, too,” Peter told her, leaning in to her touch. Wanting more of the soft caresses, wanting never to long for them knowing he had no right to them, knowing that though the woman before him looked exactly like his Olivia that she wasn’t the one he loved.

“I thought you said you didn’t know where you were.”

“For seventeen months, no, I have no idea where I was.” He kissed her softly, then pulled back to look her in the eye. “But for nearly a month I was somewhere that was like home, only not quite. You were there, but you didn’t know me. Didn’t know what we were to each other.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

Olivia nodded her acceptance, then just went back to tracing his features.

Outside of the room, Peter could hear some sort of commotion, but no one was calling either of their names and he didn’t think that anyone cared right now what they were doing. So there they stood in each other’s embrace, exchanging slow kisses and long looks because frankly, even if he got to stay here, even if this was his home – and he was really starting to think that it was, that the woman in his arms, returning kiss for kiss, touch for touch, was his Olivia – Peter wasn’t sure what was going to come next and right then was just about perfect.

With a sigh, he gathered her close and just savored the feel of her mouth under his, the way her body fit against his, the way that part he couldn’t explain with science was finally at peace.

Date: 2011-12-22 05:16 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Enjoyed reading this, but it teases the audience by raising a lot of questions. If you ever felt inclined to expand on this, the backstory, the body they buried, I know for certain you'll have one intrigued reader. :)

Date: 2011-12-25 07:14 pm (UTC)
wendelah1: (Default)
From: [personal profile] wendelah1
Seconding this request. A sequel would be awesome.

Date: 2011-12-23 04:15 am (UTC)
elfin: image: peter in deep shadows (fringe.peter shadow)
From: [personal profile] elfin
Oh, this is nice. Peter's so cagey and protective of himself, but there's that thread of hope, too. It's lovely to see that hope realized in the end.

Date: 2011-12-24 05:01 pm (UTC)
wendelah1: (Default)
From: [personal profile] wendelah1
OMIGOD! It's a happy ending for Peter and Olivia! I've been feeling so bad for Peter trapped in the Amberverse! Thank you for getting him back together with his Olivia.

Date: 2011-12-29 01:09 am (UTC)
sonneta: my username, with a butterfly (Default)
From: [personal profile] sonneta
EEE! This is so great! :') I love it - how he doesn't quite want to hope, but then it's *her*, and yes.

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