Post #1

Apr. 16th, 2011 07:02 pm
fringekink_mod: Olivia, in bed and naked under the sheets (what? Totally!), eyes closed, smiling blissfully, hair fanned out on pillow (Default)
[personal profile] fringekink_mod posting in [community profile] fringe_kinkmeme
This is a kinkmeme. You may just be familiar with the concept.

If not: explicit, adult content; read at your own risk, and keep the kids -- wherever that arbitrary line is in your jurisdiction -- out. Also, please wear your seatbelt.

RULES

1. When prompting, use the comment field to jot down character, pairing, or moresome first, then the kink(s), then any other prompt elements; after a line break, you can elaborate via words, images, or links. Like so?



2. When responding, use the subject line for the original prompt (plus your title, if you have one).

3. All kinks are welcome -- sexual, emotional, conceptual, likewise all gen, het, slash, bitextual and other fic from crack to drama.

4. Anon is encouraged but up to you.

5. Mark all spoilers, mmkay?

6. Go for it!

REMINDERS

7. With a view to some prompts: Spell Check is your BFF. Don't make Alt!Astrid cry, please?

8. A kinkmeme's more than a promptmeme. Here's [personal profile] eliade's non-definitive and non-exhaustive (but pretty illustrative) List of Fan-fiction Kinks, Tropes, Clichés, and Fetishes.

9. Could you -- in the subject line or the first line of the body of text -- draw attention to the fact there's rape or non-con, major character death, underage, and/or graphic violence in your response (which is the Archive Of Our Own (AO3) policy).
From: (Anonymous)
"Okay, what did he do then?" Peter shifts away from the lab table he's been leaning against and lets his voice drop so Astrid can't hear; at least Walter is already engrossed in setting up beakers and distillers, bunsen burners and petri dishes precisely as Olivia told him to. Peter's mouth is dry, and he isn't sure about the feeling in his stomach either. But it's hard to tell anxiety from breathless anticipation: the rush of adrenaline to the system is exactly the same.

It all just depends how you handle it.

Olivia runs a quick hand through her hair and gives him a half-shrug that he'll never find anything but adorable. "Lincoln said that was great, very quietly. That we could gather the data now, re-engineer what he calls 'the shapeshifter potion'." She bites her lip, looks directly at him. "Peter, I wanted to touch him so badly. Just -- reach out and reassure him."

"Yeah." Peter doesn't ask her of what; it's clear as a North Pole summer's day. He hasn't yet seen the two of them together, because Lincoln took off on a mission that, as Olivia relayed with one raised eyebrow of doubt, had to do with utterly essential paperwork. To be fair, it probably is; Lincoln is nothing if not a dilligent agent keen on sharing essential information as soon as possible. But Peter remembers very well the interaction between them just weeks ago, when he thought Olivia-and-Lincoln were a great match, half in love -- more like three-thirds there.

He still thinks so, leagues below the rolling churn of mine, mine, mine. There's something else he has to dive for, but very deep at all. "I get it -- well, parts of it. Not just the ones relating to you."

Olivia almost-smiles and scrunches up her nose. "Relating to Lincoln, you mean." At his stare, she half-laughs. "Your expression when you first brought this up. It's the face you make when you're undecided about sharing something you've done, or felt." The shadow that passes over her face is brief and has nothing to do with this time-line at all.

Peter also lets it go, nods slowly. "Lincoln and I just don't feel like purely platonic pals, and haven't ever since we met. That's actually something you can't remember, because William fucking Bell had hijacked your body."

She tilts her head, and no, that's not a happy memory. "Dana Grey and the electromagnetic cohesion of her physical self. Lincoln came from Hartford to join you on that case; his report said you had pooled your resources perfectly, and that future cooperation would be welcome."

Peter has to grin. And how. "'Cooperation' is only the G-rated term for it. I was pre-occupied with getting you back, Olivia. But he was as hot as he's here, in his nerdy, please-rip-my-starched-shirt-off way. In a whole different world -- one without you -- I would've given it a shot." Even with his mind fully on Olivia and not responding to that level of Lincoln's interest, Peter recalls idly contemplating the fastest way to take this guy's glasses off, not to mention everything else.

"Lincoln and you." Olivia looks at him, and there's no shock or amusement in her eyes. It's a different expression altogether. She smiles, but not at him; it's soft and unfocused. "I'd wondered what you'd been up to before we met."

"Hey, don't knock it till you tried it." He feels himself frown curiously at her. "You haven't --"

"No." Olivia's mouth quirks, and she steps closer. Her fingertips graze the lapels of his coat, slide upward until they come to rest on his shoulders, lightly but if ever an anchor there was. "But I can see it. And as for Lincoln --" she catches his gaze, "he had this partner, Robert."

"Yeah, he told me. Married guy, partners for five years. You mean --"

"He loved him. Like I loved John. And from what he told me and indirectly showed me, he was really close to Robert's wife too, Julie." That one's obvious enough, because in the short time-span they've had this timeline's Lincoln join them, Peter has counted that Lincoln has visited Julie half a dozen times despite Hartford being a two-hour drive away.

"Really really close, you're saying? To both of them?"

"Yep." Her smile is bright, and if this weren't Olivia he was talking to, he'd think it was a little scared as well. "Peter, what are we considering to do here?"

Peter swallows. "The right thing." He knows it is the moment he says it.
From: (Anonymous)
Lovely, just lovely. So much focus on their worries about Lincoln being happy! Ah, I love it. 'The right thing' indeed!

(And also? Caught this line after a third reread - the shadow that passes over her face is brief and has nothing to do with this time-line at all." Augh, right in the heart!)
From: (Anonymous)
Lincoln needs love too, after all -- and if the showrunners don't write us the simplest and most natural solution to the memory conundrum, someone else has to. ;)

(I'm so pleased you caught this bit. I had spelled it out in earlier drafts but thought, Self, let's be a bit more subtle, for once.)

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