fringe_kinkmeme | Fringe Secret Santa 2011!

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 November~~closed 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

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...

<||:)>

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Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

wendelah1

I really liked this. It's fun and full of snappy banter (love the banter!) yet hints at deeper issues regarding how Blue!verse Olivia coped with living Red!verse Olivia's life. I guess I'm wondering how Blue!verse Olivia would feel about this casual (but not so casual) post-case threesome when she remembers who she really is? How Charlie and Lincoln feel about it, too, once they know the truth? Maybe I'm over-thinking this. Sequel, anyone?

From: (Anonymous)

Thanks!

I hope you saw there was a second part. >_> It's smooshed down because of the amount of comments on the post, so you have to click on "expand" to see the second part of the fic.

If you did see it, and just commented here, sorry for the unnecessary information. And thanks for you comment. :)

From: (Anonymous)

*ouch*. A sharply realised story of action and consequence in a media world. This felt very real, possible, and made me acutely grateful it didn't go down like this in 'canon'. Fantastic fill.

From:

monanotlisa

Lincoln's tone in this cracks me up -- that mix of confusion, determination, and dry wit. Your Astrid and her interplay with Lincolns rings very true too -- sidekicks unite!

From:

monanotlisa

Oh, man, this has just too many lines that are pitch-perfect.

“Maybe,” Lincoln said, instead of Even if I had plans, I’d cancel them for you.

D'aww. (We all know it's true, too.)

Charlie’s ex had left it there when she took off for Seattle, and that’s how Lincoln knew she was nuts, because he would never have left that bed behind.

This -- the whole paragraph -- is just stunningly on, exactly what Red!Lincoln would say. Think. Opine. *g*

Also, best final line ever.

From:

monanotlisa

Oh, this is not the writer of the actual story but a kind comm member who wanted you to have a little Christmas gift.

(But I so agree this is a wonderful story. <3)

From:

monanotlisa

Wow, this puts an amazing and -- I want to say "dark" spin on the potential events of 4x01, but it's really not, is it? It's merely realistic, ugly especially in revealing the practices of this Fringe Division that Olivia is part of. Taking Lincoln's words to their logical conclusion asks all the questions I now want answered in the Amber!verse...

From:

monanotlisa

It's almost 3am, Christmas Eve has wound down, family meals have been cooked & consumed and gifts been dispersed, but holy mother of God, the giving clearly continues! If this is just a little stocking stuffer, I (as ever, I assume ;) want to see you write the whole, even longer story.

Say, that killer opening -- whoa! The whole hazing-flavoured ritual Liv is thinking back at feels perfect, too.

In the picture Nick Lane has one arm thrown over Lee's shoulders, his grin wide, manic. Both boys are dressed in their prep-school uniform, science brigade, first class.

These last three? Forever my head-canon for Red!Lincoln from now on. Yes. You give him the privileged past that the show hints at and make it better, deeper, perfectly sense-making.

(Lovely touches of weaving in Blue!Lincoln too: they are the same person; just, two roads, yellow wood etc.)

Olivia looked out the window of the van. The Washington Monument cast a middle finger in the distance, a stark exclamation mark, or as Olivia privately thought of it a national ‘fuck you’. “And most women like a confident man right up until the point they decide it’s arrogance instead.”

“I’m not arrogant.”

He hadn't looked goofy in that moment. Lincoln looked as solemn as his sixteen-year-old self, honest where everyone else was shaded grey. “I just know what’s worth waiting for.”

Everything about this is making me flail -- the pathos of being so young, young, young, but also the bright-eyed conviction that never leaves Lincoln Lee, any version, any 'verse.

Olivia still has the urge to steal the evidence, but not to display it for ridicule. She wants to cover the vulnerability, keep it guarded and secret. She wonders what Lincoln might have been like if he hadn't learnt to cover his exterior.

This made my throat go tight, a little. Oh, indeed.

In conclusion, thank you so so much. What a fantastic character piece on both Liv and oh, oh: Lincoln.

From: (Anonymous)

I kind of want to copy everything wendelah said about this story and say exactly! I love Lincoln's quiet support, his 'no big deal' response. Liv's withdrawal at being subjected to 'lab-tests'

I love the paragraph about how the horizon never shimmers, the GPS, and a world solidifying around her - the comparison to amber - all of which struck that right chord of wonder. It's the little details I'm fond of. Lovely fill.

From:

mysecretsanta

More bases-not-icons at my sillyname journal.

Follow the link.

From:

mysecretsanta

Dropping by to say that substitute teachers are superheros.

All teachers are superheros!

Awesome story!

From:

wendelah1

Seconding this request. A sequel would be awesome.

From:

biodamped

Ohh, I see! Oops.Possibly too much Christmas cheer on my end ;) Well, thank you lovely comm member for sharing! It made my day.

(And yes, it's fantastic. :D)

From:

biodamped

Oh, they're LOVELY! Thank you. :D *saves* (I actually prefer using base icons as opposed to ones with text or lots of effects, so these will be fantastic. And do not worry about the "silly name. It's cute! :3)

Merry Christmas!

From: (Anonymous)

Enjoy! (Secret Santa)

Olivia Dunham was sitting at her desk in the main area of Fringe Division. Agents were running all over the place. They constantly opened and closed doors. An occasional cursing would arise from the break room as someone had most likely burned themselves on the coffee machine. (The division really needed a new coffee maker, however the budget wouldn’t allow for it this year.) The sound of whirring fax machines and flipping pages were starting to get on her nerves.

It was during this time of the year, Christmas, when her colleagues seemed to constantly mill about in the main area, each fighting one another for the use of the fax machine, the photocopier, a stapler, or a hole puncher in order to finish up on their paperwork before Christmas Day. Because of course everyone knows that even wormholes threatening to rip through the fabric of the space time continuum wouldn’t dream of doing so until Boxing Day.

Olivia sighed and took off her glasses. The glare of her computer monitor and the strain of blocking out the noise around her was beginning to set off one of her migraines. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. It was times like this that she wished she had an office of her own.

At Fringe Division, all agents except the superior officers had desks in the main area. As much as she would like a promotion (Broyles himself had admitted she deserved one) the budget wouldn’t allow for it. While the Fringe Division on this side was funded by the government just like the one on the other side, in this universe America was still in the midst of an economic crisis. Thus, the lack of a promotion and an office.

She just needed a quiet place to work. Walter’s lab in the basement of Harvard, wasn’t an option either. While she considered it to be her second home, it was also Walter’s actual home. Because Walter lived in the lab, there wasn’t any extra room. The only other place that could have been used as an office was occupied by Walter’s bed and television set.

Taking work to her own home was Olivia’s last option, which she exercised regularly. However, she wished that one day she wouldn’t have to take her work home with her. She would work steadily until it was time for rest. However, she often found she couldn’t go to sleep at all. Those sleepless nights were often dedicated to working on the files she brought home with her. Olivia figured some nights she couldn’t sleep because she had a case file at home.

Often she would wake in the morning to the shrill ringing of her cell on the coffee table and the pattern of the couch imprinted on her cheek. If she had a place of her own to leave the case files... just a room with four walls and a door. (Oh god, how she wanted a door) then, with the files out of sight they would be out of mind and maybe she would be able to get a decent night’s rest.

There were two things Olivia Dunham wanted for Christmas: an office and a night where the idea of work never crossed her mind. Oh, and a new coffee maker for the Division. The current machine produced what could only be described as sludge. And with those sleepless nights, she needed a decent cup of coffee.

Hey, Olivia,” a voice said from beside her desk.

Startled from her train of thought she glanced up, slightly irritated at the interruption. A bright smile and kind eyes hidden behind a pair of dark rimmed glasses greeted her.
“You ready to go home?” Lincoln asked. He set his briefcase in the chair that sat beside Olivia’s desk.

She noticed the buzz around the copier was beginning to die down. She checked the time on her watch. 5:45pm. People were already lining up at the elevator to get out of the office. At the rate people were scrambling for the doors, you’d think there was a fire.

“Uh, not right now,” she said seeing the congestion of people at all of the nearest exits. “I think I’ll put in another hour before I leave.”

Lincoln nodded as he slipped on his coat. “Okay, well I guess I’ll see you on Monday. TGIF, right?” He grinned one last time before sprinting toward the elevator.

It was Friday. Olivia had completely forgotten. It helped that she didn’t have any major plans for the weekend. Rachel and Ella were in Chicago and wouldn’t be in Boston for another week. Astrid and Walter were having a movie night at the lab but that wouldn’t be starting until around eight. Walter insisted that all preparations for such an evening must at completion before the guest was to arrive. These preparations included making popcorn and quite possibly a cake. Astrid said she would text when it was safe to come over.

As for Olivia’s love life? That was non-existent. A while ago, Astrid had planted the idea in her head that Lincoln was cute. Olivia hadn’t been so sure. The sandy blonde/brown hair paired with those dorky glasses and that grin... she had to admit, Lincoln did have that “cute nerd” thing going for him. It was like some sort of “puppy vibe”. But like with an actual puppy, while they were nice to look at, there was no way in hell she would start making out with it.

Everywhere Olivia looked, people seemed to be matching her with him. Walter was dropping hints- and by hints they were blatant comments- about how their children would look. He was planning on developing a machine that would accurately predict how their combination of DNA would appear. To say the least, it made Olivia very uncomfortable.

Plus, during her adventures to the other side, she discovered the other Olivia would flirt with the Lincoln over there, even though she already had a fiancé of her own.

Actually, it was because “Fauxlivia” (as Walter liked to call her) had a thing for the other Lincoln, Olivia refused to acknowledge the idea of her and Lincoln being together. Olivia and her counterpart were as different as they came. Their coffee preferences were even different- Fauxlivia liked hers with milk; Olivia preferred hers black with one sugar. How could they possibly be interested in the same guy, who wasn’t technically the same guy?

Either way, Olivia wanted to distance herself from her doppelganger as much as she could.

And yet, Olivia found herself asking Lincoln out one evening. Or rather she asked him to meet up at an unreasonable hour at a small diner. When she found out he also wasn’t sleeping well, she liked the idea that she wasn’t alone. It got awful lonely the nights she couldn’t sleep. And the nights that she did sleep were as a result of working until exhaustion. It was an unhealthy habit, she realized.

So when Lincoln agreed to meet with her, Olivia would have been lying if she said she hadn’t been looking forward to that ‘date’. She also would have been lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed when she woke up the next morning to find herself sprawled on the floor with five text messages from Lincoln asking where she was and then finally telling her he had gone home for the night.

As a result, Olivia pretty much ruined any chance of a romantic relationship to form between them. She was okay with this. The only part she regretted was she no longer had someone to talk to after midnight. She was fairly certain Lincoln had his sleeping schedule back on track. They had a work relationship, that was it. So when 5:30pm came around, like everyone else in the office-

“Wow, this place is like a ghost town. Was there a fire or something?” said an unfamiliar voice behind her.

Olivia turned to see Peter Bishop emerging from the elevators. The man who knew everything about everyone and no one seemed to know a thing about him. The man who went from being a blue orb, to a naked man in a middle of some lake. The man who claimed to be Walter Bishop’s son.

Peter glanced at his watch. “What are you still doing here, Olivia?” he asked. “It’s almost six. On a Friday.”

“It’s Agent Dunham, Mr. Bishop. And I could ask the same of you,” Olivia said as she swivelled to face her computer.

She could hear the smirk in his voice. “Sorry, Agent Dunham. Those are the benefits of working for the Fringe Division and having no life.” He jogged down the steps and crossed the floor quickly to reach her desk. “Oh and a bodyguard, did I mention that part? He likes make sure that when I say I’m working, I’m actually working.” He slid into the chair that Lincoln’s briefcase had occupied and crossed his legs, ankle over thigh.

Olivia raised an eyebrow and continued to type away at the keyboard.

Peter cleared his throat. “I’m here to talk to Broyles. Is he still here?”

Olivia glanced up in the direction of Broyles’ office. “He should be. But he might be leaving pretty soon.”

“You planning on leaving soon?”

“Are you?” Olivia quipped.

Peter chuckled. “You’re right, I should leave you alone. Besides, I left my bodyguard downstairs. He might start getting worried.”

Olivia opened her mouth to respond, but when she looked up, Peter was already halfway down the hall towards Broyles’ office.

The man was such a mystery for her. He claimed to be Walter Bishop’s son, when the boy had died when he was young. He knew all about the Fringe Division and some very top secret cases, including information known only to the agents involved with that case.

He also knew her, or what he now believed to be a different version of her.

And the way he would look at her when he thought she wasn’t looking... a sadness lingered in his eyes. Those striking blue eyes that seemed to immediately locate her when she walked into a room.

Olivia shook her head. Focus, she scolded herself. She still had work to do until she was supposed to go to the lab.

She picked up her coffee mug and inspected the bottom. Empty. Olivia would need an extra kick from an old friend called caffeine before she was going to get anything else accomplished. She got up from her chair and headed toward the break room.

As she turned on the machine to make a new pot, Olivia drummed her fingers on the counter and found her mind wandering to the anomaly in her life.

She had to admit, Peter’s mop of curly brown hair looked pretty good when he styled it. And now that he was receiving a salary from the Division for helping with cases, his clothes were fitting a lot nicer. She was beginning to notice certain... features.

And that cocky grin of his went a little too well with his attitude. It was infectious. Sometimes, she had to prevent herself from smiling whenever he made a sly or sarcastic comment to one of Walter’s theories. Walter, because he was pretending that Peter did not exist, would continue to explain while Olivia bit back laughter.

Peter caught her eye once, after such a particular incident, and grinned upon seeing her suppressed smile. Sometimes she thought that he bothered Walter on purpose just to get a smile from her.

“Something funny?” Peter asked from the doorway.

Olivia jumped and brushed her hand against the heating pot.

“Ouch,” she let out a string of swear words.

Peter’s eyes widened. “Not anymore apparently.”

“What do you want?” Olivia asked before bringing the edge of her hand to her mouth.

“I was wondering if you were planning on coming into work tomorrow. There are a couple of things I need to do here but someone else needs to be in the building as well. And it being the weekend and all I doubt there’s gonna be many people around. Apparently my security detail doesn’t count. Broyles said he wouldn’t be here but you probably would.” Peter raised an arm to lean against the doorway.

“Yeah, I should be here,” Olivia mumbled around her hand.

“Excellent,” he flashed a smile. “Guess, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Make sure you take care of that hand,” he called out over his shoulder.

Olivia poured coffee into her mug. By the time she left the break room, Peter was already gone.

That man always managed to catch her off guard or surprise her in some way, she thought. She couldn’t seem to figure him out. Perhaps he was from an alternate universe after all. It wasn’t as though the idea was impossible.

She slid into her chair at her desk and took a sip from her mug. She grimaced and looked at the cup’s contents once more. Dear god, that was disgusting.

From: (Anonymous)

The next morning, Olivia found herself at the office suffering from yet another sleepless night. This meant she was most likely going to have to make another pot of that insufferable sludge that attempted to pass for coffee.

She slumped down at her desk and placed her head a little forcefully on the flat surface in front of her. She turned her head sideways and checked the watch on her wrist. 8:02 am. Peter would most likely be here soon. As soon as the thought crossed her mind the phone on her desk rang. The agent at the front desk said that a man by the name of Peter Bishop was waiting in the lobby area. Olivia gave them permission to let Mr. Bishop up.

After she hung up the phone, she turned up her computer.

Soon she heard muffled voices behind the closed elevator doors as it reached the floor the Fringe office was located.

“Look, I don’t need you to be upstairs with me. Agent Dunham will be here the whole time,” Olivia assumed Peter was talking to his security detail.

She heard a ding, and the sound of the elevator doors whooshing open. Olivia turned to face the two men leaving the steel box.

“See? There she is right now. She’ll be able to confirm what I’m saying,” Peter exited the elevator and a man in a black suit followed.
“Excuse me, Agent Dunham,” the man in the suit said. Olivia nodded, acknowledging his presence.

“Will it be a problem if Mr. Bishop stayed up here by himself for the remainder of the day?” Peter stepped slightly behind the man to shake his head.

Olivia set her jaw and bit her lower lip. “No agent, I won’t mind. Mr. Bishop shouldn’t be a problem. If he is, I’ll be sure to let you know. I believe I have your number somewhere from previous instances when I needed to reach Mr. Bishop.”

The other agent nodded and stepped back into the elevator.

As the numbers began to decrease above the closed doors, Peter groaned a sigh of relief.

“Finally. The only time I have by myself is when I’m at home or when I’m here.” He paused and tilted his head slightly, as if a new thought had occurred to him.

“Why did you go along with it? I thought you would want him to be up here with me, you know, to make sure I don’t get into anything.”

Olivia turned back to her computer. “Well, I know I don’t work the best with someone looking over my shoulder. I thought you might be the same way.”

“Thank you,” came the response. She could hear his footsteps hit the two short steps and head towards her desk.

The next thing she knew, a to-go coffee cup enter her field of vision.

She looked up at him questioningly.

“Black with one sugar, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Though she knew the coffee would be a relief from the horrendous mixture she would have to brew only a few feet away from where she was sitting, she felt uncomfortable about the fact that he knew her coffee order.

Peter nodded, “I’ll be in the copier room down the hall if you need me.”

Olivia smiled slightly and took a tentative sip from the cup. Finally, an actual cup of coffee.

The rest of the morning was uneventful. Olivia caught up on two cases worth of paper work. Out of five. After putting the second file away in a desk drawer, she looked at the time. 11:30 am. Almost time for lunch.

She ventured down the hallway to find Peter scrutinizing a map that was spread across one of the tables in the room.

She cleared her throat to catch his attention. Peter’s head snapped up at the sudden noise.

“Mr. Bishop, I was planning on ordering pizza for lunch. Is pepperoni okay?” Olivia asked, her hands behind her back.

Peter scanned her stature and smirked. “You don’t have to go to any trouble. I’ll be fine.” He looked back down at the map.

“I insist. After all you did save me from having to drink the coffee here this morning. Plus, you gotta eat right?”

He paused and slowly glanced up to meet her eyes. His eyebrow was raised. “You got me there. Pepperoni’s fine. Thanks.”

Olivia nodded and made her way back to her desk. She made a quick phone call and 20 minutes later, with a quick elevator ride downstairs, a large pepperoni pizza was in her hands and on her way to the break room.

When she got there she found that Peter was already at the table waiting. A set of paper plates and napkins had been set on the table.

She stopped at the door way.

“What?” Peter asked. “I was hungry.”

Olivia smiled slightly and set the pizza on the table.

The room was silent until Olivia had finished her first slice and Peter was half-way through his second.

“Do you need a straw?” Olivia asked. Peter paused a string of cheese hung from his mouth to his slice. “You know, to breathe?”

He gave an audible swallow and smirked. “I guess I was hungrier than I realized. Sorry, Oliv- I mean Agent Dunham.” He looked back down at his pizza and took another bite.

“Call me Olivia,” she said as she reached for another slice. “I feel like I know you better now to be on a first name basis.”

Peter laughed shortly, “I suppose I kind of freaked you out about the fact that I know everything you work on when I technically don’t exist in this universe.” The smile dropped away from his face.

“I’m beginning to get used to the idea. I mean I got used to the fact that there is an entire different universe with someone who looks exactly like me, except with that red hair.” Peter must have noted the distain in her voice.

“I’m sensing there’s a great amount of love between you two,” he said dryly.

“You have no idea,” Olivia rolled her eyes. “She thinks she’s so much better than I am. And that red hair, who is she trying to kid? We’ve always had a perfectly natural colour.”

“Well, I don’t think the red is that bad.”

“It bothers you a hell of a lot more after someone has kidnapped you and taken your place, your friends, your job, your life...”

Peter was still for a moment. “I can imagine.” He took another bite.

“I don’t know if you do, Mr. Bishop.” Olivia took another bite of hers.

He groaned, “Please, call me Peter. Mr. Bishop reminds me of school.”

“Elementary, high school, college?”

“All three. I got in trouble a lot.”

Olivia laughed.

“So... any plans for Christmas?” Peter reached for another piece.

She nodded. “My sister Rachel and my niece Ella are coming on Christmas Eve and staying for a couple days. You?” She asked automatically.

Peter smiled ruefully. “Not really. Turns out, when your father in this universe doesn’t want to acknowledge you exist, the holidays seem kind of... lonely.”

Olivia slowly chewed. “I- I didn’t mean...”

“I know you didn’t. It’s just me divulging in some self pity. It was my fault, I brought up the idea of Christmas anyway. Just one of those unachievable Christmas wishes. Got any of those yourself?” He grabbed a paper napkin and wiped his mouth.

“There’s a couple of things I’d like to happen but they aren’t really serious.” Seeing that both of them were finished she closed up the pizza box.

“Come on, tell me.” He placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward.

Olivia rolled her eyes and got up to put the pizza in the fridge. With her back facing him she said, “Lately, I’ve been wishing I had an office at work.” She closed the fridge door and turned to face Peter. “And a night where I had an evening where the idea of work never crossed my mind. Oh, and a new coffee maker for work,” she said as the old one caught her eye.

Peter grimaced. “I’m with you on that last one.”

“Well, I should be getting back to work,” Olivia said quickly.

“So should I, now that you mention it. See you later,” Peter walked left the room and back down the hallway back to the copier room. Olivia headed in the opposite direction back to her desk.

For the rest of the afternoon, all was quiet. Olivia finished all of her paperwork by 5:30 pm. She even managed to organize her desk. As she was about to leave she put on her coat and went to tell Peter, who she assumed was still in the copier room, that she was leaving and as a result he would have to leave as well.

As she turned the corner to enter the copier room she ran into something solid. That solid something turned out to be Peter’s chest.

“Um, hi,” Peter said.

“Oh hi,” Olivia said flustered, backing up and smoothing down her jacket. “I was just coming to let you know that I was gonna head out.”

“Excellent timing,” he said, gesturing to his appearance. He already was sporting a peacoat and leather gloves. “I was ready to go myself.”

“Okay, then,” she said awkwardly and turned to leave.

“Olivia?” Peter said.

“Yes, Peter?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come to my place for dinner?” Olivia turned to see him placing his hands in his pockets.

“Uh, I don’t know, Peter...”

“Everybody’s gotta eat, right? I make a mean homemade lasagne.”

Olivia bit her lower lip, mulling the options over in her head. Either go home and have a frozen TV dinner and be alone for the rest of the night or homemade lasagne and some not so bad company.

“Plus, my body guard’ll be outside. Just in case,” Peter winked.

Olivia smiled. “Give me your address, I’ll go home and change and come over around seven?”

“Sounds good,” Peter grinned and wrote down the address on a scrap piece of paper. He handed it to her. “See you at seven.”

Seven o’clock came around and Olivia found herself outside the house the FBI had set up for Peter.

When he opened the door the most heavenly smell wafted to her senses.

“That smells wonderful,” she said as Peter helped her slide her coat off her arms.

“Thanks,” he said as he hung up the coat in the hallway closet. “When you don’t sleep well and live by yourself, you tend to get bored. So I picked up cooking. Something I got from my dad, I guess.”

Olivia nodded.

Dinner was ready in about half an hour. Turned out he had the lasagne prepared beforehand. It was something that he had planned for dinner regardless of whether she had accepted his invitation.

Dinner conversation was light. They talked about the weather and work... well as light as work conversation went for working at Fringe Division.

As they were doing the dishes from dinner, the conversation went silent. Olivia was still thinking about Peter’s situation. He was so alone in the world. Sometimes she felt as though she could be in the same situation but then she realized, at least she had Rachel and Ella. Peter truly had no one. At least in this universe.

She broke the silence. “I’m trying to get Walter to warm up to you, you know. But he refuses to acknowledge even the idea of you. He’s just so-”

“Stubborn?” Peter finished her sentence. “Yeah, even in my universe he was stubborn.”

He paused. “It hurts, you know.” He rinsed the pot he had finished scrubbing. “He won’t even look at me. It’s difficult knowing that I’m not where I’m supposed to be. Just like when I look at-”
“Me?” Olivia finished.

“Yes,” he said softly as he handed the pot to her. Their hands brushed. “And no at the same time.”

Olivia was sure he could sense her confusion.

“It’s like how you and the Olivia from the other universe are. You share the same face but aren’t anything like one another. Except with my Olivia, you share much more traits with her than I can explain. Knowing that you are like her but aren’t is confusing. And yeah, it does hurt.” Peter began to let the water drain from the sink.

“But my Olivia, wherever she is,” he closed his eyes, “I’ll always love her. After what we’ve been through... I just can’t lose her again.” He opened his eyes. The expression on his face, Olivia could only describe as love. She thought that wherever his Olivia was, she sure was lucky to have a man as dedicated and loving as a guy like Peter.

Peter suddenly cleared his throat and took the pan from her hands and placed it in a bottom cupboard.

“Have any place you need to be?” he asked.

Olivia shook her head.

“You enjoy Die Hard?” he raised an eyebrow. “It’s the perfect Christmas movie. All of the basic holiday cheer with a touch of violence.

Olivia smiled.

She sat herself on the couch and Peter set up the DVD. Once it was playing, he went into the hall closet and pulled out a blanket. He tossed it on the cushion beside her.

He said, “It gets kind of chilly in this room.”

So Olivia took the blanket, thanked him and proceeded to wrap up in it. She remembered watching John McClane climb on top of the elevator in the elevator shaft.

The next thing she knew it was the next morning and she was practically lying on top of Peter.

His sent was a clean musky smell, which somehow he still managed to achieve even though it was the morning. Eyes still half shut she slowly moved to an upright position as to not wake him up.

She carefully began to stand from the couch.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” was Peter’s response as Olivia tried to make her getaway. When she looked back he had one eye open.

“I’m sorry I must have fallen asleep,” she checked her watch. It was 8:30 in the morning. She was surprised she had fallen asleep much less slept for so long.

“Don’t worry, I fell asleep too. Must have been a little bit after you did, otherwise I would have let you have the couch for yourself.” He rubbed an eye half-heartedly.
Olivia paused. “Oh god, it’s 8:30 in the morning. I stayed here all night!” She stood frozen in place.

“Don’t worry,” Peter said as he stood up from the couch. “I’ll tell my body guard that nothing happened.”

Olivia flushed at his comment, “Please be sure that you do. Also, shouldn’t you know his name by now, other than body guard? His actual name is-”

“Tony, I know.” He grinned. “Knew it from the first day he was assigned to me. I just do that to annoy him.”

Olivia nodded. “Well, I should probably go.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

“Sorry, for falling asleep on you.”

“Not a problem. That was probably the best night’s sleep I’ve had since I popped into this universe.”

As Olivia put on her coat and gave a short wave to him as she left the house she thought, Funny, I was going to say the same thing.

From: (Anonymous)

When Olivia walked into the office Monday morning, few people had yet to make it into the office, however those who were there were milling about in the break room.

“What’s going on?” Olivia asked as she walked in the room.

“New coffee maker,” one agent said excitedly.

“Someone had it delivered a couple of minutes ago,” another one added.

Olivia had a pretty good idea who was behind the appearance of the new device. She went to her desk, picked up the phone, and punched in some numbers. She began to twist the phone cord around her fingers.

“Bishop,” was the response after two rings.

“You really outdid yourself, Peter. People are going nuts over this new coffee maker.”

“I’m glad I could help,” replied the tinny voice.

“You really didn’t have to do that you know,” Olivia noticed she had trapped her fingers in the phone cord.

“Well, I figured when I am at the office there’s no need for me to suffer along with the rest of you,” he chuckled.

“Didn’t it cost quite a bit? I’m pretty sure I saw a cappuccino setting on it,” she shouldered the phone and began to free her fingers.

“What can I say, when you don’t have much of a social life, and when the FBI takes care of the bills, you begin to notice you have a bit of extra cash laying around.”

“Not that much extra cash. Well, the entire department thanks you, Mr. Bishop.”

“Oh, please. It was nothing, Agent Dunham.”

There was a moment of silence between the two. Olivia wasn’t quite sure what to say. She wanted to say thank you personally for his efforts to fulfill her Christmas wishes.

Peter spoke up, “Well, two out of three ain’t bad, right?” Olivia could hear the smile over the phone.

“Two out of three what?” Olivia was confused.

“Two out of three items on your Christmas wish list. I talked to Broyles and he said that the payroll couldn’t handle another promotion this year. So no office. At least not this year.”

“In that case, two out of three isn’t bad at all,” she smiled in return. She was still amazed at how much effort he put into making her life a bit happier.

“Well, I need to go. My body guard is taking me shopping and I said we could leave five minutes ago. Just a minute, honey,” he called to someone in the background. “Sorry, about that,” he said to Olivia.

She didn’t acknowledge the interruption. Instead she said, “Thank you, Peter.”

“Have a merry Christmas, Olivia.” The line clicked and went dead.

Suddenly Olivia wished things were different. She wished that she the one he was looking for.

She wished she was his Olivia.

From:

biodamped

(That's ok! :D Honestly, it's only just Boxing Day morning here. It's still Christmas somewhere, so don't be sorry at all.)

This is just lovely. LOVELY. Thank you so much. I can't even tell you how I sympathise with the idea of a house WITHOUT paperwork in it, omg. Poor Olivia. And I just laughed out loud at the idea of Astrid texting "It's safe to come over now" xD Because Walter making cake is DEFINITELY dangerous!!

I am such a sucker for anything that let's me imagine them a new life together again, and this fits the bill perfectly. Thank you again! ♥ I hope you have (had?) a wonderful Christmas! :D

From:

biodamped

OH, I DIDN'T REALISE THERE WAS MORE. Ignore that last bit while I continue reading! You epic creature, you!

From:

biodamped

Ok so in addition to my comments above - bawwwww. I LOVE that he's still trying to look after her, even if he does have some silly idea that's she's not his Olivia. And I love that she's willing to let him.

This was just so sweet, and fluffy, and perfect for my Christmas recovery session. Thank you again, Secret Santa, very much! I love it. ^_^

From:

cantarina

This is beautiful! Great character studies of the both of them.

From:

cantarina

This is beautiful! Great character studies of the both of them.

From:

alizarin_nyc

THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON!!!!

I have been trying to comment for days... and I keep getting distracted! But the bonus is that I have been able to read this more than once. I am sad for Lincoln that he doesn't get his new Fringe life, but on the other hand, I do think he'd be dogged about finding out what was going on and uncovering it. Spot on!

Again - thank you. :)