9Olivia was driving on autopilot. Her fingers kept clenching and unclenching around the steering wheel; she could feel Peter's eyes on her, but there wasn't really anything he could say. Neither of them was looking forward to arriving at their destination.
She'd put off telling Rachel about the baby until the second trimester. Every time they talked she just didn't know how to begin. She'd mentioned Peter, but to her sister they'd only been together for a few months. How could she possibly describe what he meant to her? How could Rachel ever understand? How could anyone? Her relationship with Peter meant more to her than anything she had ever known, ever had thought within the realm of possibility. She didn't even mean the ridiculousness of events that was their life in Fringe Division, that at times seemed commonplace now. But the way he could take her apart with a single glance, and then put her back together, leaving her just a little bit stronger than before. The way his touch could still her most insidious and incessant thoughts. The way she so often knew what he was thinking by the quirk of his lips or the furrow of his brow.
Their love was epic, she thought this with no hyperbole or self-exaltation; there was no other word to describe the journey they had gone on together. Two souls bound by the memories of the original course of time, isolated from the world by the dissonance it gave them. And it was lonely at times. She couldn't speak openly to anyone but him. Rachel had so many memories that differed from her own. She could remember bits and pieces when they talked, enough to get by, but she couldn't share so much of herself in return. Even her talks with Walter or Astrid occasionally led to confusion, as she'd mention a case they'd never encountered, or a conversation they never recalled having. And if it was difficult for her, it was even harder for Peter.
He had never existed beyond childhood. Every touch he'd left on the world had been wiped clean except from her mind. Peter said that it was freeing. She knew he had done things of which he wasn't proud. But she saw him grapple with the formality of agents in Fringe Division that should have known him for years, and the looks he still gave Walter when he thought no one was paying attention. As much as Walter had opened his arms to his lost son, he shouldn't have been lost. And this Walter was different from the one they'd known in the original timeline, it was subtle but it was there. Olivia and Peter would exchange a glance when these differences made themselves known, a silent acknowledgement of what they had both lost, and a promise to make the best of the world in which they'd found themselves.
It was this promise that Peter had reminded her of over one Friday's Damiano's take-out. She had to tell her sister. She had to find a way to let her back into her life, and that had to begin by telling her about their baby. Which is how they found themselves now driving with more wary anticipation than Olivia could remember having in a long time. When she pulled up to the prestigious looking two-story colonial home, her fingers sought out Peter's without thought. Only when she felt Peter press a gentle kiss to her palm did she turn to look at him,
"I don't know how to do this. I don't know how not to hate her husband." Her expression probably showed how much distaste she had for Greg. She had been so happy to help Rachel get away from him, and now it had never even happened. "I don't know how to explain why having this child isn't at all rushed." Her free hand unconsciously clutched protectively across the swell of her stomach, "I don't know how to look at little Eddie without wonder showing on my face. I mean, I've never really met him. I have a few memories, but they don't feel like mine anymore. I just dont..." her voice shook in a way she would have despised around anyone but him, "know how to do this."
She closed her eyes and focused on the soothing circles Peter was tracing across the back of her hand. She sought to steady her breath, and she knew Peter was waiting for her to open her eyes before responding. When she finally did, she wondered if perhaps, at least, she wouldn't have to explain her relationship with Peter. Not if her sister saw him look at her like this. Eyes both soft and intense, soothing yet heated, every contradiction that love entails at once, and with a strength that came to Olivia like a life preserver, pulling her from the tremulous, dark fears threatening to overwhelm her.
"I'll be right there with you," he smiled, "I'll be there to hold your hand so you don't punch the jackass. When your sister sees the love we have for each other, she'll see we are ready for this child even if she doesn't understand it," Olivia had to smile as he unknowingly echoed her earlier thoughts," Peter's smile faltered and he turned sheepish, "I forgot to tell you, I asked if Rachel could have Ella and Eddie go to sleepovers tonight so the adults could catch up. I figured it would be easier for you."
He knew she didn't like him making decisions for her, but she only felt relief and gratitude at that moment. But he was shifting uneasily in his seat and looking adorably like a child afraid he'd done wrong, and Olivia couldn't find the words to assuage his nerves so she settled for wrapping her hand around the nape of his neck and bringing their lips together lips together in a kiss that she hoped showed just how grateful she was. Given by the way he inhaled sharply against her lips, recovering a few moments later to wrap an arm around her seeking out the skin bared by the low slope of the back of her dress, he understood the sentiment. They pulled away enough to find each other's eyes, but still close enough for Olivia to feel Peter's slightly irregular breath against her eyelashes,
"We should go inside," his voice was but a whisper his disinterest to actually follow his words evident both by his tone and the husk now present in his voice. Olivia shuddered faintly at the sound, and Peter's hand on her back dipped ever slightly lower. "They will either be wondering why we are late or why we are sitting in the car making out." Olivia closed her eyes and let out a low chuckle. She ran her knuckles down his cheek. He'd shaved for tonight, but she found herself missing the stubble. She often delighted in the feel of it against her hand, or during their more intimate moments, of the friction of it against her chest sliding down her stomach, igniting every nerve and leaving goosebumps in its path.
"Yes." Her own voice was hoarse, whether from the kiss or the rather carnal direction her thoughts had gone was hard to say. She indulged in one more taste of his lips, just a tender brush, and then she pulled back with a determined set to her shoulders and they both exited the car.
~;~;~
Rachel wasn't dumb, and she was more observant than most gave her credit for. She knew within five minutes of seeing Olivia with Peter that they had something special. It wasn't the way they gravitated around each other, or the heat in their glances. That could be easily chalked up to the whirlwind of infatuation. No. It was the long looks that seemed to hold entire conversations within them. It was the way every time Olivia's eyes met Peter's however briefly, she'd ever so slightly relax and a small smile would dust across her lips.
It wasn't just the intensity of their still young relationship that surprised her; it was the depth. They bore all the signs Rachel usually attributed to couples that had been together for a long time. They mirrored each other, a brush of a hand against the forehead, a crossing or uncrossing of arms. They reacted to each other's words before they were finished speaking. Olivia's smile just before Peter unleashed what Rachel had to admit was rather considerable charm over the dinner table. Peter's smirk moments before Olivia left Greg fumbling with his napkin with a few sharp words.
They had left the dinner table to settle in the parlor. Various cheeses were spread out on the table between the two couples. Peter and Olivia shared a couch on one side; Rachel and Greg occupied two wicker chairs on the other. As she watched Olivia give Peter a smile so adoring she felt like she was intruding on a moment – in her own home- she lost her patience. Putting down her wine she rose to her feet and brushed non-existent dust from her dark navy skirt,
"Olivia, could you give me some help with the dessert in the kitchen?" The raised eyebrow she was met with made it quite clear that Olivia knew her true intent, but she got to her feet regardless,
"Of course."
Rachel could hear Olivia following behind her, she wasn't sure if the heavy tread was due to an unwillingness to have this conversation or the extra weight Olivia now carried with her. Olivia wore pregnancy splendidly, Rachel found herself quite envious to admit. She had looked like a manatee when pregnant. But Olivia glowed, she still moved with the grace she had had since childhood; now, there was just more to her.
Rachel spun abruptly around upon entering the kitchen, finally out of both sightline and earshot of the men in the other room, and Olivia had to stop short as to not run into her. Rachel grabbed both of her sister's hands and gently pulled her until she was fully into the room, but did not let go.
"So... Peter." Her voice was light, and she knew her eyes twinkled with mirth. Olivia rolled her eyes, but her smile soon matched Rachel's.
"Yes. Peter." They just looked at each other for a long moment. Rachel knew there was a lot she didn't know about her sister. It was a fact both borne from the nature of her work and from Olivia's own naturally guarded disposition. She didn't really need to know. And she was, at this moment, very much aware that there was something to her relationship with him that she would never understand and maybe she wasn't meant to.
"He's lovely Olivia. Utterly charming. You both are going to make wonderful parents. That child," she gestured to Olivia's swollen stomach, "is going to be so blessed." Olivia's eyes teared up then, shocking Rachel to the core. She had only seen her sister cry a few times in her life. The first time their stepfather hit her; the day their mother died; the first night in their new home with Nina; and the day Ella was born. Rachel instinctively pulled Olivia into her arms, or as much as she could given the baby bump between them. She could feel the jerky exhale of her breaths against her neck, and the ever so small tremor of her shoulders. Rubbing small reassuring circles against her back, Rachel found understanding slowly dawning on her and she fought to find the right words,
"There is much I will never understand. I know I can't. But you're still my sister, and I know what love looks like on your face. And his face is just as obvious. You have something really magical Liv. I'm so very happy for you." Olivia's arms tightened even more around her waist and Rachel felt more than heard her sigh as Liv finally relaxed into her embrace,
"I love you Rach." Rachel smiled, pulling back a hair's breadth to place a soft kiss to her temple,
" I love you too. Now come on, I really could use your help getting the dessert ready. Does Peter like Pie?"
I left the story open because I haven't decided whether or not to leave it here. I treasure all feedback :)
