Fic:Through the Cracks - Astrid/Olivia
Title: Through the Cracks
Author: Caroline (altlivia )
Pairing: Astrid/Olivia
Rating: T
Word Count: 900
A/N: Astrid & Olivia. I ship it. Here’s a little femslash fluff for the two or three of you in the fandom who do, too.
They were in a bar. That’s how it usually starts, isn’t it?
“You’re drunk, Agent Farnsworth,” Olivia noted with amusement, a tiny giggle echoing out of her throat. Astrid rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders, swishing the contents of her glass around. Her shoulders bumped against Olivia, and she gestured toward the superior agent’s third glass of whiskey, which she calmly sipped while eying Astrid. “And you’re not,” Astrid answered pointedly.
“Lots of practice, Astrid. Years and years of practice, actually,” A sly smile spread over Olivia’s lips as she finished her glass and set it down with a definitive “clink”. Olivia balanced the ball-point pen between her fingers, massaging her other hand against the knotted muscles at the back of her neck. The case had been long and tiring, and when Astrid offered to buy her a drink to make mulling over the Bureau report more exciting, Olivia had gladly accepted. Now one drink had spiraled into three, and neither women were particularly focused on the paperwork.
Astrid’s hand crossed the distance between them and settled unevenly on Olivia’s thigh, drawing little circles around the slack of the trousers she always wore. Olivia’s breath hitched in her throat, and she reached down to carefully remove the junior agent’s hand -- which was quickly dancing closer to the rapidly-advancing heat between her legs -- from her thigh. “Astrid…”
“Shhhh.” And Astrid was next to her, wedged between the bar stool and Olivia’s legs. I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t want this. A million red alarms flew through Olivia’s mind, but they were soon all forgotten. Astrid’s scent --- her jasmine-scented shampoo and spiced body lotion -- flooded Olivia’s senses, and she struggled to regain composure and extricate herself from the situation. “You don’t have to run all the time, Olivia,” Astrid whispered in her ear.
Astrid was right; Olivia did run. She couldn’t handle relationships, because she couldn’t handle putting anyone close to her in harm’s way. Harm which always inevitably seemed to find her. She couldn’t deny that their were times that she had felt unusually…close to Astrid. Spending late nights filling out paperwork after cases and ordering cheap beer and Chinese food had led to many unnecessarily long touches. Light grazes of fingers brushing over fingers, lingering while green eyes got lost in Astrid’s brown eyes. Nothing more than a crush. Olivia had filed it away -- she always did. Astrid, apparently, had not.
Astrid caught Olivia’s gaze and gingerly cupped her cheek, quietly nestling herself between the older agent’s legs. Olivia could feel Astrid’s hot breath against her neck. “You deserve to be happy for once, Olivia.” Olivia pulled Astrid closer to her, until the other woman was flush against her centre and, in one swift motion, she captured Astrid’s lips.
The kiss was gentle, languid at first. Olivia was soft, softer than Astrid had ever imagined -- and Astrid had imagined the two of them in this very situation many times. Inquisitive tongues danced around the other, and Astrid felt Olivia’s hands run down her back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The two women stayed like that, drinking in the essence of each other in the corner of a lonely, dark bar. Two shadows which, just for a moment, would become one.
Finally, Olivia pulled away, lips faintly tinged with Astrid’s lipstick. She smiled and laced her fingers with the junior agent’s, running her thumb along the contours of the other woman’s palm. Astrid made her feel safe, wanted, and forgetful -- in all the right ways. She longed to forget so much of the last two months, and maybe the beautiful, bright-eyed woman in front of her was just what she needed. “Do you want to come back for some coffee?” Olivia asked, her voice husky and caught in her throat.
“Coffee?” Astrid asked, cocking her head and letting out a small giggle. “I always pegged you as more blunt than that.” Olivia laughed; mainly because Astrid was right. Bluntness was a feature they both shared.
“Okay,” Olivia started, leaning in closer to the other woman. “Do you want to come back to my apartment to fuck?” She placed a deep kiss at the base of Astrid’s neck and ran her fingers along her collarbone. Astrid smiled, only slightly caught off guard by the superior agent’s advances.
“I don’t know about that; but I’d like to walk you home, Agent Dunham.” Astrid placed a quick kiss on Olivia’s forehead before pulling two twenties and a five out of her purse and pulling her coat over her shoulders. “And then I think I’d like to make love to you.”
The two women left the bar hand in hand, giggling like giddy teenagers and sharing knowing gazes, like two people who had just realised that they had something more in common than occupational hazards or Walter Bishop’s culinary misadventures. To anyone looking in, they looked normal. Happy. Breathtaking. To Olivia, this normalcy was something she had never quite longed for. Ever since she had started with Fringe Division, normalcy was a far-off dream, lost forever somewhere between chasing monsters and crossing universes. But no matter how absurd things got, happiness -- however fleeting -- always managed to find her, like sunlight piercing through the cracks.
Author: Caroline (altlivia )
Pairing: Astrid/Olivia
Rating: T
Word Count: 900
A/N: Astrid & Olivia. I ship it. Here’s a little femslash fluff for the two or three of you in the fandom who do, too.
They were in a bar. That’s how it usually starts, isn’t it?
“You’re drunk, Agent Farnsworth,” Olivia noted with amusement, a tiny giggle echoing out of her throat. Astrid rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders, swishing the contents of her glass around. Her shoulders bumped against Olivia, and she gestured toward the superior agent’s third glass of whiskey, which she calmly sipped while eying Astrid. “And you’re not,” Astrid answered pointedly.
“Lots of practice, Astrid. Years and years of practice, actually,” A sly smile spread over Olivia’s lips as she finished her glass and set it down with a definitive “clink”. Olivia balanced the ball-point pen between her fingers, massaging her other hand against the knotted muscles at the back of her neck. The case had been long and tiring, and when Astrid offered to buy her a drink to make mulling over the Bureau report more exciting, Olivia had gladly accepted. Now one drink had spiraled into three, and neither women were particularly focused on the paperwork.
Astrid’s hand crossed the distance between them and settled unevenly on Olivia’s thigh, drawing little circles around the slack of the trousers she always wore. Olivia’s breath hitched in her throat, and she reached down to carefully remove the junior agent’s hand -- which was quickly dancing closer to the rapidly-advancing heat between her legs -- from her thigh. “Astrid…”
“Shhhh.” And Astrid was next to her, wedged between the bar stool and Olivia’s legs. I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t want this. A million red alarms flew through Olivia’s mind, but they were soon all forgotten. Astrid’s scent --- her jasmine-scented shampoo and spiced body lotion -- flooded Olivia’s senses, and she struggled to regain composure and extricate herself from the situation. “You don’t have to run all the time, Olivia,” Astrid whispered in her ear.
Astrid was right; Olivia did run. She couldn’t handle relationships, because she couldn’t handle putting anyone close to her in harm’s way. Harm which always inevitably seemed to find her. She couldn’t deny that their were times that she had felt unusually…close to Astrid. Spending late nights filling out paperwork after cases and ordering cheap beer and Chinese food had led to many unnecessarily long touches. Light grazes of fingers brushing over fingers, lingering while green eyes got lost in Astrid’s brown eyes. Nothing more than a crush. Olivia had filed it away -- she always did. Astrid, apparently, had not.
Astrid caught Olivia’s gaze and gingerly cupped her cheek, quietly nestling herself between the older agent’s legs. Olivia could feel Astrid’s hot breath against her neck. “You deserve to be happy for once, Olivia.” Olivia pulled Astrid closer to her, until the other woman was flush against her centre and, in one swift motion, she captured Astrid’s lips.
The kiss was gentle, languid at first. Olivia was soft, softer than Astrid had ever imagined -- and Astrid had imagined the two of them in this very situation many times. Inquisitive tongues danced around the other, and Astrid felt Olivia’s hands run down her back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The two women stayed like that, drinking in the essence of each other in the corner of a lonely, dark bar. Two shadows which, just for a moment, would become one.
Finally, Olivia pulled away, lips faintly tinged with Astrid’s lipstick. She smiled and laced her fingers with the junior agent’s, running her thumb along the contours of the other woman’s palm. Astrid made her feel safe, wanted, and forgetful -- in all the right ways. She longed to forget so much of the last two months, and maybe the beautiful, bright-eyed woman in front of her was just what she needed. “Do you want to come back for some coffee?” Olivia asked, her voice husky and caught in her throat.
“Coffee?” Astrid asked, cocking her head and letting out a small giggle. “I always pegged you as more blunt than that.” Olivia laughed; mainly because Astrid was right. Bluntness was a feature they both shared.
“Okay,” Olivia started, leaning in closer to the other woman. “Do you want to come back to my apartment to fuck?” She placed a deep kiss at the base of Astrid’s neck and ran her fingers along her collarbone. Astrid smiled, only slightly caught off guard by the superior agent’s advances.
“I don’t know about that; but I’d like to walk you home, Agent Dunham.” Astrid placed a quick kiss on Olivia’s forehead before pulling two twenties and a five out of her purse and pulling her coat over her shoulders. “And then I think I’d like to make love to you.”
The two women left the bar hand in hand, giggling like giddy teenagers and sharing knowing gazes, like two people who had just realised that they had something more in common than occupational hazards or Walter Bishop’s culinary misadventures. To anyone looking in, they looked normal. Happy. Breathtaking. To Olivia, this normalcy was something she had never quite longed for. Ever since she had started with Fringe Division, normalcy was a far-off dream, lost forever somewhere between chasing monsters and crossing universes. But no matter how absurd things got, happiness -- however fleeting -- always managed to find her, like sunlight piercing through the cracks.