It was the third warehouse of the evening. Olivia was tired of every door leading to a dead end. Every place they checked had been cleared out. William Bell had nearly destroyed both universes with his ego, porcupine bats, and a hell of a lot of power rushing through Olivia's veins; that made him their new main objective. Olivia intended on tracking him down, and his properties were all they had to go on. They'd been able to track most of them down, half of the ownership titles were under pseudonyms, but Walter had worked with Bell long enough to figure out most of them.

Peter and Olivia did the legwork while Astrid and Walter tried to find new properties. They were in New York City tonight; next stop was Jacksonville. Olivia wasn't sure if her dread to go to Jacksonville was rooted in her past or because it was their last lead. After Jacksonville – unless they got good news from Astrid – they'd be heading back home: with ticket stubs to 6 cities and not a single piece of useable evidence. Olivia didn't want to go back, not just because it would mean failure, but because she was enjoying herself –not the pointless leads, but the company, the escape.

After two warehouses and an abandoned fire station, Peter had kissed her on the Golden Gate Bridge. In Philadelphia, they almost missed their plane because Olivia accidentally dropped the keys to her cuffs down a floor vent. Peter managed to pick the lock and they caught their flight. To Olivia's amusement, she caught several old ladies across the aisle from them eying his bruised wrist.

Going home would mean the end of their vacation from all things bizarre and terrifying. In the last three weeks the scariest thing they had encountered was when they had walked into one of Bell's abandoned properties to find it had been taken over by a gang. After shape shifters, doppelgangers, and genetically modified monstrosities, 5 guys in baggy jeans and caps weren't terribly intimidating to either of them. It was over quick. She could do without the ridiculous heat wave though; it seemed to follow them wherever they went. Liv had to admit she liked the look of a sweaty, gun toting Peter Bishop. What she liked most was that he was all hers.

They might not have signed any papers or exchanged rings; but they were starting a family, and they had their own vow. Peter had woken her at 3am one night not too long after they'd found out she was pregnant. He wanted them to vow that they would always find each other. The wording of it amused her. Find each other. So much of their relationship had been about just that.

When they were eight years old, Peter found her in a field of white tulips. As they grew up, they forgot; each having their own reasons for that. Then halfway across the world from that first day, Olivia found him. Since then they'd been separated by: shape shifters, doppelgangers, parallel universes, time itself, and even by death (a few times). Part of Olivia felt, given all that, she should be more troubled; after all simply speaking her daily routine aloud in public could land her in a padded room. But she was a survivor, and her relationship with Peter had weathered just as much; she was finally happy. It gave her faith. Not a feeling she was used to.

This was the last location of the night. Her and Peter had split up the last properties so they could finish faster; they had dinner reservations. The place was locked, but easy to get into. Liv reached for the switch, but nothing happened. The torch revealed exactly what she'd been expecting: trash, rats and a waste of time. Half way through her sweep of the building, she heard footsteps, followed by shuffling. There was a turn in the hall, and Liv was fairly certain someone was around the corner. Breathe. She gripped her gun, unlocking the safety as she slid along the length of the wall. Breathe. She had to be in control.

Perhaps Walter was right; perhaps her cortexiphan powers were depleted, but they weren't gone yet. She could feel it. She never noticed until the day she blew out every fuse in the lab. When everyone else was rushing around trying to find Bell, she was fixated. Suddenly she could feel it: it was an ever so slight vibration deep in her chest. It was almost like a second heartbeat, or the echo of one. After going home with Peter bandaged but ridiculously healthy considering, she had momentarily thought she was rid of it. As sleep evaded her in Peter's arms she felt it; the vibration was still there. She had to keep control. She didn't know what she was capable of; she had a feeling no one did.

Ready to round the corner, she was beaten to it. There was a light in her eyes, and she heard the click of a safety being removed,

"Drop the gun! This is Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD! Get on the ground now."

Against the glare of the torch in her eyes, Olivia could only make out a tall, lean silhouette and a glock. A showdown of two shadows in a grungy, rat-infested hallway was not how Olivia had intended her evening to go. Her and Peter's plane didn't leave until the morning, and Peter had booked a hotel room with a Jacuzzi. Olivia shook her head,

"Sorry Detective Beckett I cannot do that," her expression was blank but her tone bore pangs of contrition, "I'm Special Agent Olivia Dunham with the FBI. We've been having a lot of impersonations," that was one way to describe the shape shifters and spies that had infiltrated their forces, "I'm afraid I cannot take you at your word that you are who you say you are."

The silence that followed was heavier than the darkness that enveloped everywhere except the narrow gaze of their torches – both of which were pointed at the other like a spotlight.

Detective Beckett broke the silence first, "Okay, say I believe you, what do you suggest we do Agent Dunham?" She didn't have the classic New York City dialect common to most of the police officers Olivia had come across, but she definitely spoke like a cop.

"We toss down our guns and then call a superior we both answer to for confirmation." Olivia was puzzled when she saw the glock facing her start to shake; that is until she heard it, she was laughing. "You think this is funny?"

The stifled chuckling turned to into a full out chortle that took a few seconds to die out, "According to every movie I've ever seen, the 'drop your gun' plan either results in someone cheating or a fist fight."

Olivia shrugged, "I guess we have to hope we're more rational beings than those in fiction." Although Olivia still couldn't see Detective Beckett's face against the glare of the torch in her eyes, Liv could have sworn she could hear a smile in her voice,

"You'd be surprised how thin the line between fiction and reality is." Olivia shook her head, retorting quickly,

"I find little surprises me these days." There was another silence as they sized each other up; again Detective Beckett spoke first,

"Okay, count of three. Together?"

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

~.~.~.~.~

"I can't believe that I just spoke on the phone with the Secretary of Defense." They were outside on the curb in front of the warehouse now. Detective Beckett towered a good few inches over Olivia as she talked, and Olivia idly wondered how tall she'd be without the heels, "That's so far up the chain of command that it makes my head spin. What department are you with?" Olivia brushed dust off of her pants and looked up to regard the detective opposite her with wary eyes.

Her identity had been confirmed, but that didn't mean she was trustworthy. Even if she was, Fringe Division wasn't in the habit of including local law enforcement into their cases any more than necessary. She was young, about Olivia's age, and unquestionably beautiful; the planes of her face were angular and strong, and Olivia saw in her eyes a look she could relate to. Kate Beckett wanted to save the world. She suddenly remembered the question she had been meaning to ask ever since the guns had gone back in their holsters,

"Why were you in the warehouse?" Detective Beckett's shoulders jerked in annoyance at her question being ignored. Clearly, Detective Katherine Beckett was not the kind of woman one takes lightly; she was used to getting answers from people. But the Secretary of Defense himself had just asked her to cooperate with the FBI anyway she could, and the detective was evidently trying to swallow her pride,

"I'm working the homicide of a secretary, Nancy Lewis. Strange death. I had a lead that led me in this direction, and when I saw that John Monegal, aka the protagonist from a book by sci-fi writer Michael Bishop, owned this warehouse, well I figured I'd found the right place. But there was nothing in there," Beckett's nose scrunched up, her brow knitted together in frustration as she waved a hand at Olivia, "except you of course."

Nancy Lewis. Nancy Lewis. Why is that name familiar? Olivia's eyes darted back up at the building and then down at her watch, about two minutes now. "Not exactly. I spotted something on the way out." Detective Beckett's frustration found a new target,

"And you didn't tell me? Typical FBI behavior, keeping the locals out of the loop, even when," she leaned down until her face was close to Olivia's own, "they're right by your side." Olivia was sure that if she didn't have so much experience with all things terrifying, she would have been intimidated. As it was, she just noted that the detective smelled of cherries.

"I assure you bureaucracy and ego have nothing to do with this. I had to move quickly, and I didn't have time to explain, that's why I am now." Olivia's eyes darted back down at the time, 59 seconds. She slipped a hair tie off her wrist and began putting her hair into a ponytail. She had curled it especially for her date tonight, but that wasn't going to be happening. "You need to listen to me, that building is going to vanish in about 35 seconds. It'd be best that we step back now." Kate's eyebrows rose comically high for a moment as she processed the sentence,

"Very amusing. You'd love my partner, similar affinity for humour in inappropriate situations." She backed up to regard Olivia more fully, it seemed neither of them was sure what to make of the other.

"Look it doesn't matter whether you believe me or not, in 20 seconds a bomb containing anti-matter is going to detonate taking the whole building with it. Do yourself a favour and," Olivia abruptly leapt forward, grabbing the brunette's collar and pulling until the detective's face was level with her own, "back the fuck up." Olivia gave the detective one last look and bolted behind a truck on the other side of the street. First there was a high-pitched whistle; Olivia could hear nearby dogs barking. This was followed by a strange vibration that seemed to shake even the air itself, and then it was over. When Liv looked up the first thing she saw was Detective Beckett crouched beside her; Liv was glad to see that the woman had listened to her despite the absurdity of her claim. Olivia found herself thinking maybe, just maybe, she'd make an exception and let the detective join in her investigation. A pair of fresh eyes might actually be what they needed.

Liv got back on her feet, and pulled her phone out of her pocket, "There's one other thing you should see." She passed the phone to Detective Beckett, but the woman took it without looking; her gaze was still riveted on the empty lot where the warehouse once stood. She was clearly trying to process what had just happened. She held the phone limply in her hand for a few moments longer before finally looking at it,

"Is this the- I can't believe I'm about to say this- anti-matter bomb?" Beckett gritted her teeth as she spoke the words, clearly out of her comfort zone. But it was her first time, and she kept her eye on the case rather than on the oddities she'd encountered so far that evening. Liv would take her to Peter; he was the best judge of character she'd ever met.

Olivia shook her head, "I didn't need to take a picture of the bomb, I've had experience dealing with one before," Liv decidedly neglected to mention that this experience wasn't from this universe, nor was it even one of her own. It was one of the many of her alternate's memories left swimming around in her brain from Walternate's experiments. "I don't know what this is. I need to send it back to my team in Boston." It was clearly a machine of some kind, although it was gone now.

An anti-matter bomb is a long length to go to guarantee the destruction of the building and its contents, not to mention it's a method from the other universe. Olivia had a feeling there was more to find in New York City, and having a detective from the area at her side could prove useful.

"So you're based in Boston, in what department again?" Olivia smiled, and grabbed her phone back. She sent off a quick text to Peter as she answered,

"I haven't told you yet. Come meet my partner, if he thinks you're on the up and up, I'll tell you what department we're in and help you solve your homicide. I'm fairly certain we're working the same case." Olivia was walking away from the site now, in the direction of her rent-a-car, and Beckett quickly fell in stride beside her. The only sounds were those of the New York City streets and of the detective's heels on the cement. When they reached Liv's car, Beckett opened the door but stopped before entering,

"I can only work this case if my partner can join." Liv paused, key in the ignition as she considered the request, she only wanted to add so many unknown factors to the equation.

"He's my partner in the same way as yours is to you." Olivia's eyebrow rose questioningly. She hadn't been aware she'd given that away. "I could hear it in your voice. I'm good at that kind of thing." It seemed Detective Beckett had talents yet unseen, and Olivia was feeling a tad more confident in her decision to break protocol and include her. "Plus if he knew I was working a case like this without him, it'd kill him." Beckett scoffed and rolled her eyes as she said this as if deploring her own words.

"Go ahead, text him where to meet us. Tell him to bring coffee." Beckett smiled,

"He's gonna love this case."

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