Fic: Priorities (Peter, Olivia)
Title: Priorities
Fandom: Fringe
Author: chichuri
Characters: Peter, Olivia
Word Count: 617
Rating: PG
Summary: Missing scene from August. Peter convinces Olivia to take the day off.
Spoilers: Through episode 2.8, August.
Disclaimer: I don't own Fringe or its characters.
Priorities
When Peter ducked into the office, Olivia was where she'd been for the last two hours: hunched over the table she'd staked out as her own, tapping her fingers against the pile of files and taking notes as she put together her report.
If anyone ever needed to play hooky-hell, deserved to play hooky-it was the woman who was determined to waste what was looking to be a gorgeous fall day inside a dusty and chemical-laden lab. He shook his head, dropping into the chair across from her. "Go. Report to Broyles, then spend the day with your niece."
She looked up, blinked at him for a moment or two while his words registered. "We still need to question the victim. And the paperwork-"
"Is nothing that can't wait until tomorrow." He raised his eyebrows, daring her to contradict him; the tilt of her head told him he was right. "And," he continued, "it's not like I haven't questioned people before." Tougher targets and in worse circumstances, but he didn't think reminding her of those details would work in his favor.
She glanced down at the pile of papers, then back up at him. "I shouldn't," she said, but he'd never heard her sound less happy about making the responsible choice.
"Olivia." He waited until she gave him her full attention. "Go make that memory with Ella." Bringing Ella into this was pure emotional manipulation, he knew, but if took manipulation to convince her to take some time for herself he was prepared to pull out all the stops. He was her partner now; it was his job to shoulder his share of the burdens, if only she would trust him enough to let them go.
She was wavering; he could see it in her eyes, in the twist of her mouth. He waited to see if it had been enough to pry her away from her perceived duty, marshalling his arguments for the next stage of his persuasion just in case. He'd just about decided to bring out the bigger guns when she finally nodded.
"Okay," she said hesitantly. "If you're sure."
"I got this." He grinned, holding her eyes and willing his certainty into his expression. Anything to convince her to take off for a guilt-free afternoon.
She searched his face, the last of her reluctance ebbing away. She smiled in return, one of the relaxed, honest ones that made her eyes light up. "Thank you, Peter."
He shrugged, leaning back as he watched her gather everything up and shuffle it into a neat pile. "You go have fun. You do remember fun, now, don't you?"
She chuckled as she pushed back her chair and stretched, her entire posture loosening like she was shedding her burdens along with the kinks in her back. "I think I do. And if I don't, I've got Ella to remind me." With a last adjustment of the pile, she stood. She made it half way to the door before she wheeled and said, "You'll brief me tomorrow?"
"Every word."
"And don't forget to-"
"Are you going to go or are you going to stand around all day second-guessing me?"
She ducked her head, offering up a wry smile and an apologetic shrug. He rolled his eyes as he shooed her off. With a spring in her step and a swing to her hips she left this time, already on the phone to arrange the meeting with Broyles.
The echo of her footsteps faded. When he was sure she was free and clear of the building and hopefully not about to have second thoughts, he retrieved Walter and went to see a girl about a man.
Fandom: Fringe
Author: chichuri
Characters: Peter, Olivia
Word Count: 617
Rating: PG
Summary: Missing scene from August. Peter convinces Olivia to take the day off.
Spoilers: Through episode 2.8, August.
Disclaimer: I don't own Fringe or its characters.
Priorities
When Peter ducked into the office, Olivia was where she'd been for the last two hours: hunched over the table she'd staked out as her own, tapping her fingers against the pile of files and taking notes as she put together her report.
If anyone ever needed to play hooky-hell, deserved to play hooky-it was the woman who was determined to waste what was looking to be a gorgeous fall day inside a dusty and chemical-laden lab. He shook his head, dropping into the chair across from her. "Go. Report to Broyles, then spend the day with your niece."
She looked up, blinked at him for a moment or two while his words registered. "We still need to question the victim. And the paperwork-"
"Is nothing that can't wait until tomorrow." He raised his eyebrows, daring her to contradict him; the tilt of her head told him he was right. "And," he continued, "it's not like I haven't questioned people before." Tougher targets and in worse circumstances, but he didn't think reminding her of those details would work in his favor.
She glanced down at the pile of papers, then back up at him. "I shouldn't," she said, but he'd never heard her sound less happy about making the responsible choice.
"Olivia." He waited until she gave him her full attention. "Go make that memory with Ella." Bringing Ella into this was pure emotional manipulation, he knew, but if took manipulation to convince her to take some time for herself he was prepared to pull out all the stops. He was her partner now; it was his job to shoulder his share of the burdens, if only she would trust him enough to let them go.
She was wavering; he could see it in her eyes, in the twist of her mouth. He waited to see if it had been enough to pry her away from her perceived duty, marshalling his arguments for the next stage of his persuasion just in case. He'd just about decided to bring out the bigger guns when she finally nodded.
"Okay," she said hesitantly. "If you're sure."
"I got this." He grinned, holding her eyes and willing his certainty into his expression. Anything to convince her to take off for a guilt-free afternoon.
She searched his face, the last of her reluctance ebbing away. She smiled in return, one of the relaxed, honest ones that made her eyes light up. "Thank you, Peter."
He shrugged, leaning back as he watched her gather everything up and shuffle it into a neat pile. "You go have fun. You do remember fun, now, don't you?"
She chuckled as she pushed back her chair and stretched, her entire posture loosening like she was shedding her burdens along with the kinks in her back. "I think I do. And if I don't, I've got Ella to remind me." With a last adjustment of the pile, she stood. She made it half way to the door before she wheeled and said, "You'll brief me tomorrow?"
"Every word."
"And don't forget to-"
"Are you going to go or are you going to stand around all day second-guessing me?"
She ducked her head, offering up a wry smile and an apologetic shrug. He rolled his eyes as he shooed her off. With a spring in her step and a swing to her hips she left this time, already on the phone to arrange the meeting with Broyles.
The echo of her footsteps faded. When he was sure she was free and clear of the building and hopefully not about to have second thoughts, he retrieved Walter and went to see a girl about a man.