fic: trouble is a friend (fringe/inception; peter/eames, ariadne/arthur; 2/2)
Title: Trouble is a Friend
Author: empressearwig
Pairing/Fandom: Peter/Eames, Arthur/Ariadne; Fringe/Inception
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~11,800
Spoilers/Warnings: Season one of Fringe/Post-movie
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is all for fun. This hasn't happened and will never happen. Etc.
Summary: Eames helps Peter solve crime. Really.
Author's Notes: I want it on record that this was not my idea. Thanks to normative_jean and irishmizzy for the help. Without them, this wouldn't have been finished. I leave it to you to decide if that would have been a good thing.
Part One
Two days later, they're still no closer to catching Nash. Walter and Yusuf insist they're making progress on the composition of the Somnacin variant that's causing the reactions in the victims, but despite pooling Arthur and Olivia's vast resources, Nash has remained elusive. It's more than a little frustrating, and frankly, Peter doesn't remember Nash being smart enough to stay this well hidden. Someone is obviously protecting him; they just haven't been able to figure out who.
Peter can see Olivia's suspicions about Arthur and Eames growing by the day, but Peter remembers the look on Arthur's face when he offered to help, the look on Eames' face when he explained why they were here, and Peter knows that Olivia is wrong. He just can't find a way to convince her of that.
In the meantime, he's been spending a lot of time in the lab.
This morning Walter and Yusuf are working beneath the fume hood, mixing chemicals Peter would rather not know about, while Eames flirts with Astrid. Again. Peter doesn't worry about that; he knows that Astrid won't hesitate to put Eames in his place if he's really bothering her, but Eames' persistance in trying to get on Walter's good side is starting to make Peter crazy.
Yesterday, Eames brought in breakfast for everyone, complete with a box of Lucky Charms for Walter, after Walter mentioned that Peter wouldn't buy them for him. The day before that, Peter came back from a coffee run to find Walter putting Eames into one of his crazy head contraptions, and only a bribe from Peter's emergency stash of candy had stopped Walter from sulking for the rest of the day after Peter wouldn't let him use Eames as a test subject. He's still not sure he made the right decision on that; it was really a lose-lose situation. Let Walter finish and Eames ends up on his good side for the rest of Peter's life, thus making Peter crazy. Stop Walter from frying Eames' brain and have to put up with more comments about how flattered Eames is by Peter's concern, thus making Peter crazy.
Either way, Peter ends up crazy. He needs this case to end, the sooner the better.
The door opens and Olivia walks in, a tense expression on her face that Peter knows all too well.
He's on his feet in an instant. "Did we get something?"
She nods. "Another victim. Only this one is lucid." She looks back at Walter and Yusuf. "Can you go? I'd like you to be there when I talk to her."
"Just give me one second," he says, holding up a finger and crossing back to the table where Astrid is trying to work. "I'm going to take off with Olivia. Can you --" he doesn't finish the sentence, just nods his head towards Walter and Yusuf.
"Of course," Astrid says. She narrows her eyes at Eames. "I don't suppose there's any way you could take him with you."
Peter lets out a short laugh. "I don't think that's a very good idea, do you?"
"Probably not," Astrid says with a mournful sigh. She makes a shooing motion with her hands. "Go on, get out of here. Olivia looks anxious."
"You're the best," he says, grinning at her. He looks at Eames. "Behave."
Eames just smiles at him, but Peter chooses to ignore him, following Olivia out the door instead. Maybe, just maybe, this is what they need to solve this thing. Peter can only hope.
***
They're in Olivia's SUV on the way to Boston Medical Center when she asks, "So how do you know him?"
Peter blinks. Turns his head to look at her and does it again. Of all the questions Olivia could have asked, that one wasn't even on the list. He must look as confused as he feels, he realizes, when she goes on.
"Eames," she says. She pauses, as if considering just what to say next. "You two seem to know each other very well."
"I wouldn't say that," Peter hedges. It's not a lie, exactly. He doesn't know Eames well, not in the way that most people mean something like that. He knows the parts of Eames that Eames shows him, bits and pieces, and those parts of him, Peter knows well. But it's nowhere near the whole of Eames. Peter doesn't think he'll ever know the whole of Eames.
Olivia lets out a hm-ing sound at that.
"What?" Peter asks, turning to face her more fully. Even in profile, he can see the doubt on her face. "What?"
They pause at a stoplight and Olivia looks over at him. "It's just -- it's just --"
He raises an eyebrow. "Yes?"
Traffic starts to move. Olivia turns her attention back to the road. Finally, she says, "He watches you. A lot."
"Olivia," he says, her name a warning. This needs to end here.
"I'm sorry," she rushes out. "It's none of my business."
"You're right," Peter agrees. "It's not." He says it calmly, but he's not calm. Not in the slightest. He's pissed at Olivia for prying, and at Eames for being so obvious, and at himself for caring what anyone else thinks. It's not as if what Olivia said isn't true; it is true and he knows that it's true.
He just doesn't want to deal with what it means. Or what it means that he's been staring back.
Olivia lets the subject drop. They ride the rest of the way to the hospital in silence.
***
The victim, Melanie Jackson, is sitting upright in bed when they arrive at her room, a man that Peter presumes is her boyfriend sitting by her side. She seems completely normal; there's nothing remarkable about her brown hair and brown eyes, nothing that marks her as an obvious target for a ring of dream thieves. Then again, Peter thinks wryly, no one is ever what they seem. He knows that better than anyone.
Olivia knocks on the open door and Melanie looks up with a confused look on her face. "Can I help you?" she asks, and Olivia takes that as an invitation to step into the room.
"I'm Agent Olivia Dunham with the FBI," she says, taking her badge out of her pocket and flashing it at the pair. She nods towards Peter. "This is my colleague, Peter Bishop. We'd like to ask you some questions about what happened."
"Oh," Melanie says, her face clearing. She shrugs. "Sure, but I don't remember much. I told the doctor's that."
"That's okay," Olivia says, coming closer to her bed. She holds out her hand for the man sitting at Melanie's bedside. "And you are?"
"Jason Watt," the man supplies, shaking her hand. "Melanie's fiancé."
Olivia smiles, briefly. "Congratulations." She turns her attention back to Melanie. "What can you tell me about where you were when you were abducted?"
Melanie frowns in concentration, a line forming between her eyes. "I was -- I was leaving work, I think. Right?" she asks, turning to look at Jason. "I was leaving work?" He nods and Melanie looks back at Olivia. "I had a brief due the next day -- I'm an associate at Conway & Witter -- so I stayed late to finish it. I called Jason before I left and then I went out to my car and then --" A shudder wracks through her.
"What time did she call?" Olivia asks Jason, giving Melanie a moment to compose herself.
"Around nine," Jason says, digging in his pocket for his phone. "I can check if you --"
Olivia waves him away. "We can get phone records." She looks back at Melanie. "Do you remember anything about where they were holding you?" she asks gently, her voice softer. "Anything at all?"
Melanie bites her lip. "It seemed like it was some sort of warehouse, concrete floors, dim light. It was really cold."
Peter looks at Olivia. "Meat packing warehouse?"
"Maybe," Olivia murmurs. "What about the people holding you? Do you remember anything about them?"
Melanie starts to shake her head and then stops . "Wait. I do remember something." She closes her eyes, as if trying to will the memory back to life. "I remember voices -- two of them."
"What are they saying, Melanie?" Olivia asks, and Peter can see her trying to keep her tone level and nonthreatening. "Can you hear them?"
Melanie nods, eyes still closed. "They're saying something about it not working. About how they can't afford anymore tests." Her eyes fly open. "Oh my God. Is that what I was? A test? A test," she repeats, her voice growing higher with each word.
Peter steps forward. "We're not sure. Is there anything else you can tell us? The smallest thing could help us catch them."
Melanie looks near tears, groping blindly for her fiance's hand. "I don't remember!" she says with frustration. "Why can't I remember?"
"They gave you something," Olivia says. "It's not your fault." She digs into her pocket and pulls out a card. She passes it to Jason. "If you remember anything else, no matter how insignificant you think it is, give me a call." She turns to head for the door and Peter gives them both a brief smile and follows.
They're all the way to the door when Melanie says, "Wait."
Olivia stops in her tracks and turns back around in an instant. "Did you --"
Melanie nods, her eyes closed once more. "There's a warehouse. A truck is parked outside."
"Can you tell us anything about the truck? A color, any writing on it, a license plate, anything?" Olivia presses, and Peter sees her hand clenched, poised over her pocket, ready to dig out her notebook with the smallest reason.
"There's a name," Melanie says, eyes flying open. "Capeside Shipping." She presses her fingers to her temple. "I know that name. Why do I know that name?"
Peter knows that name too. Only he knows why he knows it and it's not good. "Capeside Shipping?" he asks, voice sharp. "You're sure?" She sees Olivia look at him out of the corner of his eye and shakes his head once, keeping his gaze intent on Melanie.
Melanie nods again, this time with narrowed eyes. "You know something."
He doesn't answer, but turns to Olivia instead. "We should go. Now."
There must be something about the look on his face, because Olivia doesn't even blink. "Okay." She gives Melanie an apologetic look. "I promise, we'll be in touch. And please let us know if you remember anything else. You've been a big help."
"But -- but --" Melanie stammers, but Peter's already walking out the door. He hears Olivia toss a goodbye Melanie and Jason as she exits, hot on his heels.
"What's going on?" she demands, catching up to him. "Peter?"
He spares her the briefest of glances. "We need to get back to the lab. This -- well, it isn't good, Olivia. In fact it's the opposite of good."
She opens her mouth to press him further, but the look on his face makes her change her mind. "Back at the lab," she repeats with a sigh. "Okay."
Peter knew she'd see it his way.
***
He storms into the lab, the doors clattering behind him, Olivia trailing in his wake. Four faces look up at him with surprise, but it's Astrid that says something first.
"Peter," she says, "is everything alright?"
"He knows something," Olivia says tightly, folding her arms over her chest. "And he refused to tell me what it was until we got back here." She raises her eyebrows at him. "So we're here. Talk."
"I'm sorry," Peter says to Olivia, trying to make it sound more sincere than it really is. He's not that sorry. "I just thought --"
"Peter," Olivia says, "I don't care why. Just start talking before I actually get angry."
"Yes ma'am," he says with a nod. He turns to look at Arthur. "What do you know about Capeside Shipping?"
Arthur's eyes widen, just a little, and Peter sees the pieces fall into place for him. He smiles grimly. Being right is it's own reward. "Capeside Shipping?" Arthur repeats. "As in --"
"As in the Solomon crime family?" Peter finishes. "Yes."
"Okay, want to explain what that means to the rest of us who don't know what the hell you're talking about?" Ariadne asks, frowning at Arthur. "Some of us don't spend our time listening to police scanners for fun."
"I do not --" Arthur starts, and then cuts himself off. He takes a breath. "Capeside Shipping is a local front for a very large, very dangerous organized crime family." He gives Peter a sharp look. "How did you get the name?"
"Our victim remembers seeing a truck with that name on it," Olivia says, already digging her cellphone out of her pocket. "Outside a warehouse."
"And you're thinking that the Solomon's must be the ones behind this," Ariadne says, nodding her head. Peter gives her a surprised look. She shrugs her shoulders. "You didn't think they kept me around because I'm cute, did you?"
Peter opens his mouth to defend himself, but Eames slips his arm over Ariadne's shoulders, squeezing them. "I'm sure Peter thought no such thing," he says. "He's just always a little surprised when people actually manage to keep up with him. It doesn't happen often, you see."
"Very funny," Peter says flatly.
Eames winks at him. "And here I just thought it was true."
Peter stares at Eames for just a second, then shakes his head. It's not worth it. He looks back over his shoulder at Olivia, who's got her phone pressed to her ear and is listening to something intently. He turns back to Arthur. "What do you know about them?"
Arthur spreads his hands out in front of him. "Not much, I'm afraid. Probably not anything more than you do." He frowns and narrows his eyes in concentration. "Wait -- aren't indictments about to come down? The federal prosecutor was about to get information turned over to them from --"
"From Conway & Witter," Olivia finishes for Arthur, snapping her phone closed. She gives Peter a side eyed look. "Sound familiar?"
"The law firm Melanie Jackson works for," Peter says, shaking his head. "Damn it." He spins around to the table with the case files and starts digging through them. "We didn't think there was a connection between the victims, but what if there was?"
Olivia's by his side in an instant. "What kind of connection?"
"Wasn't one of them a federal prosecutor?" Astrid asks, helping Peter with the files. She finds the one she's looking for and holds it out for Olivia. "Here, see? Michael McKay."
"Who just so happens to work in the organized crime division," Olivia says grimly, reading the file in front of her. She looks up. "Who else?"
"Katherine Cameron is a court reporter," Ariadne reads from another file. "I mean, it doesn't say who she's worked with, but--"
"It's probably not a coincidence," Olivia agrees, taking the file from Ariadne. "What about the other victim, Paul Cavender?"
"He's a security guard," Astrid supplies, looking up from the file with a troubled look. "At Capeside Shipping."
"And that all brings it full circle," Eames says. "Wouldn't you say?"
"I would," Olivia says, pinching the bridge of her nose. "But why would a crime family handle things like this? If Mr. Cavender was a witness to something, why wouldn't they just shoot him and be done with it?"
"Maybe they didn't know he'd turned over evidence until after it was done," Peter suggests. He shrugs. "Does it matter? We have what we need to catch them now."
"Everything but where to find them," Arthur points out. Peter gives him a dirty look, and Arthur says, "Just pointing out the obvious."
"It is one of your better talents," Eames agrees, rounding the table to stand next to Peter. He touches Peter's back and it's all Peter can do to not flinch. He can feel heat from Eames' skin burning through his fingertips, and he feels very crowded all of a sudden. He refuses to move, though, ignoring the part of his brain that's telling him that he likes how this feels. This is most definitely not the time.
Olivia shakes her head. "It doesn't make sense," she insists. "What are we missing?"
"I believe Dr. Bishop and I might be of some assistance with that," Yusuf interjects. He gives them a brief smile. "If I'm not interrupting?"
"Of course not," Olivia says, gesturing for them to continue. "Please explain."
"We believe that we've finally managed to replicate the Somnacin variant that our thieves have been using," Yusuf says, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. "Dr. Bishop, would you like to tell them?"
Peter and Astrid trade looks, and Peter starts to say, "Actually, Yusuf," but then Walter is already is already rambling away and Peter closes his mouth with a small sigh. It was worth a try. Eames' hand is still against his back. Which is not what Peter's supposed to be thinking about. Walter. He's supposed to be listening to Walter. Peter tries to make himself concentrate on the words coming out of Walter's mouth, but he's as confused as everyone else looks. "Walter," he says. "Start over. Speak English this time."
"Oh. Right," Walter says, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Peter, I didn't mean to --"
"I know," Peter says, holding up a hand to cut him off. "Just try again."
"Of course." Walter takes a breath and starts over. "It's quite ingenious, really. They've managed to alter the normal Somnacin compound so that the subject will actually forget the information that is being extracted. The symptoms that our victims have experienced post extraction are likely side effects to this, but without a human subject to test it on there is no way for Yusuf and I to be certain."
Peter blinks in surprise. That was not what he was expecting to hear from Walter. From the looks on everyone else's faces, they weren't expecting to hear that either, especially not Olivia, whose mouth seems to be hanging open just the smallest amount.
"They're erasing their memories?" Astrid asks. "How is that even possible?"
Walter opens his mouth to explain, but Peter intervenes. "I don't think we need a chemistry lesson right now," he says quickly. "We need to find out who their next target is going to be and we need to do it fast."
The Agent Dunham side of Olivia snaps back to attention. "Right. I'm going to get a subpoena for records from the shipping company and if you," she waves her hand at Arthur, vaguely, "want to see what you can find out -- and I don't want to know how you find it out -- that would be great."
Arthur nods, looking just the faintest bit amused. "Of course."
Olivia stalks out of the lab, and Peter watches her go. When the door falls shut, he turns back to the rest of their team and rubs his hands together. "Let's catch the bastard."
***
It's after midnight the following night and Peter is trapped in a car with Eames on a stakeout. Olivia got a lead on a location that might be being used as a base of operations, and somehow, over Peter's strenuous objections, they split up for the stakeout. Ariadne opted to help Astrid baby-sit Walter, which left Eames and Arthur and Olivia and Peter, and there was no chance that Peter was going to let Eames and Olivia anywhere near each other.
So he's the one stuck in a small, enclosed space with Eames, trying his best to concentrate on looking for suspicious activity and failing miserably. The worst part of it is that Peter can't find anyone else to blame for this. He wants someone else to blame for this.
Eames breaks the silence between them. "Tell me, Peter," he says, and Peter can hear that whatever is coming next isn't going to be something he wants to hear, "whatever will you do for fun when I'm gone?"
Peter looks at him with eyebrow raised. "Is fun what I've been having since you showed up? I'm so glad you told me."
Eames grins and Peter's palms feel sweaty against the steering wheel. "You've been having fun and you know it," Eames says. "There's no sense in denying it, I know you, Peter."
The worst of it is that Eames does, Peter thinks. He can't deny it, so he doesn't, just looks away, out into the empty street. "This is pointless," he says, drumming his fingers against steering wheel. "I don't know what Olivia's hoping will happen here."
"I imagine she's hoping that Nash will prove to be as stupid as he in fact is and show his face." Eames shrugs. "He's already rolled over on his partners in crime once, there's no reason to believe he won't do it again."
Somehow Peter manages not to roll his eyes. "Right, but we need to catch him in the process of actually doing something illegal. Skulking around warehouses isn't exactly illegal."
Eames laughs and the sound goes down Peter's spine. He's very glad when his phone chooses this exact moment to ring. "Hello?"
"Peter," Olivia says, voice crisp on the other end of the line. "Anything?"
"Not a so much as a homeless person," he reports. "You?"
"Nothing." He can hear the frustration in Olivia's voice.
"Maybe we got the wrong warehouse?"
"Maybe," she says, "but --" There's an unexpected silence, and then Olivia hisses, "A van just pulled up outside, I'm getting ready to go in."
"Without backup?" Peter exclaims, but the line is dead. "Damn it," he curses, reaching over Eames knees to open the glove compartment, withdrawing the gun that Olivia pretends to know he doesn't have. "Stay put," he orders Eames as he gets out of the car, already chasing after Olivia.
When he gets around to the other side of the building, he finds Olivia standing over an unconscious man, Nash already in handcuffs. Peter can hear sirens headed towards them and Olivia nods her head toward the back of the fan. "We got to them before they managed to start the extraction. He's just a little roughed up." She gives Arthur a sharp look. "If you ever --"
Arthur holds up his hands in silent apology. "It will never happen again, you have my word."
"Arthur, really?" Peter asks curiously. Olivia gives him a tight frown. "And I'll take that as my queue to drop it," Peter says, shooting Eames a dirty look when he stops by his side. "I thought I told you to stay in the car."
Eames gives him a quick grin. "And when have you ever known me to follow instructions?"
Peter really hates when Eames asks him questions like that.
"They should leave," Olivia says, with a nod towards Eames and Arthur. "The rest of my team will be here soon and I don't want anyone to know that they were here. And I really doubt either of you want to answer any questions."
"You're sure?" Peter asks. It's a violation of procedure and he knows what it must be costing her.
She nods. "Go."
"Okay, then," Peter says. "You heard her; get out of here, both of you."
Eames claps Peter on the shoulder. "You'll find us when you're done?"
Peter rolls his eyes, but nods, tossing Eames the keys to his car.
"Excellent," Eames says, wrapping an arm around Arthur's shoulder. "We'll save you the check."
The two of them start off towards Peter's waiting car, and Olivia calls out after them. "Thank you," she says. "Really, thank you."
Arthur turns back and gives her a brief smile and nod. "It was our pleasure."
They disappear into the night and Peter turns back to Olivia. "What do you say we make this fast?" he suggests, rubbing his hands together.
Olivia gives him a knowing look. Peter choose to ignore it.
***
Two days later, and Peter's world is mostly back to normal. Arthur and Ariadne already left, for where Peter didn't ask and they didn't offer, although Peter overheard Ariadne giving Astrid her email address before she left. Peter doesn't want to think about what that means for the future; he's pretty sure that the two women together could take over the world if they wanted to.
He hasn't seen Eames since the night of the stakeout, but he's pretty sure that he's still in Boston. It's just a feeling, for all he knows Eames is on the other side of the world by now, but something tells him that he hasn't seen the last of his mysterious friend yet.
It's the end of the day and Peter's alone in the lab. Astrid took Walter to get a hamburger an hour ago, but Peter stayed to work on one of his own projects. When he hears the door open, he assumes that it's Olivia with news about a new case. "Agent Dunham," he says, spinning around on his chair. "What do you have --" His voice trails off when he sees Eames standing in the doorway instead. "You're not Olivia," Peter says weakly.
"No," Eames says, shaking his head. "I'm not." He gives Peter a smile. "Disappointed?"
Peter hesitates for just a second. He could tell the truth or he could lie. They'd both know that it would be a lie either way. "No."
Eames smile gets deeper and he walks towards Peter slowly, deliberately. Peter's mouth goes dry. He scrambles for something to say. "So you must be leaving soon."
"Are you that eager to be rid of me?" Eames asks, not able to contain his laughter. "You'll hurt my feelings, Peter; I thought we'd bonded on this visit."
Peter raises an eyebrow, giving a mental sigh of relief. Banter is safe, banter is good. Banter keeps him from thinking about how Eames is standing close enough that Peter can tell just how good he smells. "I don't think bonded is the right word for it."
Eames laughs again, and Peter really wishes he would stop. It's distracting. "Did you have another suggestion?"
"Where are you heading next?" Peter asks instead, choosing to take the cowards way out and change the subject.
The look on Eames faces tells Peter that Eames knows exactly what Peter's up to but that he'll let him get away with it. "I was thinking about Athens," Eames says. "It's nice this time of year."
Peter nods slowly. "I've heard that."
They stare at each other for a long moment, and Peter's half holding his breath, waiting for something, anything to happen. This feels like the moment when something is finally going to happen.
"Sod it," Eames mutters, and then he's stepping forward and pressing his lips to Peter's. The kiss doesn't last long and it's gentle, almost chaste, and not at all what Peter ever would have expected from him. Eames' lips are cool and dry and just the slightest bit chapped, and his hand is warm against Peter's cheek. When Eames steps back, Peter misses his heat.
Peter stares at him, not sure what to say. That kiss wasn't the goodbye he'd hoped it would be; it felt like the start of something. Peter can't afford for it to have been the start of anything, so he tries to make it goodbye anyway. "I guess I'll see you around."
"You should come with me," Eames says.
Peter blinks in surprise. "Very funny."
"No, Peter," Eames says, taking a step closer. Something Peter can't name is in his eyes. "I was very serious. You should come."
Somehow, Peter manages to not take a step back. "I can't -- what would I tell Olivia? Or Walter for that matter? I may hate him more days than not, but he's my responsibility."
"I know," Eames says, reaching out to touch Peter's cheek again. "Come anyway."
Peter shakes his head, with more regret than he lets on. "I can't."
Eames sighs and gives him a half smile. "I know." He drops his hand and takes a step back. "I had to ask."
"I know."
They stare at each other for a moment more, the air between them thick with things unsaid. In a different world, in a different time, Peter wonders if he would have gone with. He'll never know.
Eames looks away first, starting for the door. "Never fear, Peter," he calls back over his shoulder. "I'll be seeing you again soon." He pauses in the doorway and turns back to give Peter a final smile. "I'll make certain of that."
And with that, Eames is gone, the door swinging shut behind him. Peter watches the closed door and wonders when it will be.
Author: empressearwig
Pairing/Fandom: Peter/Eames, Arthur/Ariadne; Fringe/Inception
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~11,800
Spoilers/Warnings: Season one of Fringe/Post-movie
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is all for fun. This hasn't happened and will never happen. Etc.
Summary: Eames helps Peter solve crime. Really.
Author's Notes: I want it on record that this was not my idea. Thanks to normative_jean and irishmizzy for the help. Without them, this wouldn't have been finished. I leave it to you to decide if that would have been a good thing.
Part One
Two days later, they're still no closer to catching Nash. Walter and Yusuf insist they're making progress on the composition of the Somnacin variant that's causing the reactions in the victims, but despite pooling Arthur and Olivia's vast resources, Nash has remained elusive. It's more than a little frustrating, and frankly, Peter doesn't remember Nash being smart enough to stay this well hidden. Someone is obviously protecting him; they just haven't been able to figure out who.
Peter can see Olivia's suspicions about Arthur and Eames growing by the day, but Peter remembers the look on Arthur's face when he offered to help, the look on Eames' face when he explained why they were here, and Peter knows that Olivia is wrong. He just can't find a way to convince her of that.
In the meantime, he's been spending a lot of time in the lab.
This morning Walter and Yusuf are working beneath the fume hood, mixing chemicals Peter would rather not know about, while Eames flirts with Astrid. Again. Peter doesn't worry about that; he knows that Astrid won't hesitate to put Eames in his place if he's really bothering her, but Eames' persistance in trying to get on Walter's good side is starting to make Peter crazy.
Yesterday, Eames brought in breakfast for everyone, complete with a box of Lucky Charms for Walter, after Walter mentioned that Peter wouldn't buy them for him. The day before that, Peter came back from a coffee run to find Walter putting Eames into one of his crazy head contraptions, and only a bribe from Peter's emergency stash of candy had stopped Walter from sulking for the rest of the day after Peter wouldn't let him use Eames as a test subject. He's still not sure he made the right decision on that; it was really a lose-lose situation. Let Walter finish and Eames ends up on his good side for the rest of Peter's life, thus making Peter crazy. Stop Walter from frying Eames' brain and have to put up with more comments about how flattered Eames is by Peter's concern, thus making Peter crazy.
Either way, Peter ends up crazy. He needs this case to end, the sooner the better.
The door opens and Olivia walks in, a tense expression on her face that Peter knows all too well.
He's on his feet in an instant. "Did we get something?"
She nods. "Another victim. Only this one is lucid." She looks back at Walter and Yusuf. "Can you go? I'd like you to be there when I talk to her."
"Just give me one second," he says, holding up a finger and crossing back to the table where Astrid is trying to work. "I'm going to take off with Olivia. Can you --" he doesn't finish the sentence, just nods his head towards Walter and Yusuf.
"Of course," Astrid says. She narrows her eyes at Eames. "I don't suppose there's any way you could take him with you."
Peter lets out a short laugh. "I don't think that's a very good idea, do you?"
"Probably not," Astrid says with a mournful sigh. She makes a shooing motion with her hands. "Go on, get out of here. Olivia looks anxious."
"You're the best," he says, grinning at her. He looks at Eames. "Behave."
Eames just smiles at him, but Peter chooses to ignore him, following Olivia out the door instead. Maybe, just maybe, this is what they need to solve this thing. Peter can only hope.
***
They're in Olivia's SUV on the way to Boston Medical Center when she asks, "So how do you know him?"
Peter blinks. Turns his head to look at her and does it again. Of all the questions Olivia could have asked, that one wasn't even on the list. He must look as confused as he feels, he realizes, when she goes on.
"Eames," she says. She pauses, as if considering just what to say next. "You two seem to know each other very well."
"I wouldn't say that," Peter hedges. It's not a lie, exactly. He doesn't know Eames well, not in the way that most people mean something like that. He knows the parts of Eames that Eames shows him, bits and pieces, and those parts of him, Peter knows well. But it's nowhere near the whole of Eames. Peter doesn't think he'll ever know the whole of Eames.
Olivia lets out a hm-ing sound at that.
"What?" Peter asks, turning to face her more fully. Even in profile, he can see the doubt on her face. "What?"
They pause at a stoplight and Olivia looks over at him. "It's just -- it's just --"
He raises an eyebrow. "Yes?"
Traffic starts to move. Olivia turns her attention back to the road. Finally, she says, "He watches you. A lot."
"Olivia," he says, her name a warning. This needs to end here.
"I'm sorry," she rushes out. "It's none of my business."
"You're right," Peter agrees. "It's not." He says it calmly, but he's not calm. Not in the slightest. He's pissed at Olivia for prying, and at Eames for being so obvious, and at himself for caring what anyone else thinks. It's not as if what Olivia said isn't true; it is true and he knows that it's true.
He just doesn't want to deal with what it means. Or what it means that he's been staring back.
Olivia lets the subject drop. They ride the rest of the way to the hospital in silence.
***
The victim, Melanie Jackson, is sitting upright in bed when they arrive at her room, a man that Peter presumes is her boyfriend sitting by her side. She seems completely normal; there's nothing remarkable about her brown hair and brown eyes, nothing that marks her as an obvious target for a ring of dream thieves. Then again, Peter thinks wryly, no one is ever what they seem. He knows that better than anyone.
Olivia knocks on the open door and Melanie looks up with a confused look on her face. "Can I help you?" she asks, and Olivia takes that as an invitation to step into the room.
"I'm Agent Olivia Dunham with the FBI," she says, taking her badge out of her pocket and flashing it at the pair. She nods towards Peter. "This is my colleague, Peter Bishop. We'd like to ask you some questions about what happened."
"Oh," Melanie says, her face clearing. She shrugs. "Sure, but I don't remember much. I told the doctor's that."
"That's okay," Olivia says, coming closer to her bed. She holds out her hand for the man sitting at Melanie's bedside. "And you are?"
"Jason Watt," the man supplies, shaking her hand. "Melanie's fiancé."
Olivia smiles, briefly. "Congratulations." She turns her attention back to Melanie. "What can you tell me about where you were when you were abducted?"
Melanie frowns in concentration, a line forming between her eyes. "I was -- I was leaving work, I think. Right?" she asks, turning to look at Jason. "I was leaving work?" He nods and Melanie looks back at Olivia. "I had a brief due the next day -- I'm an associate at Conway & Witter -- so I stayed late to finish it. I called Jason before I left and then I went out to my car and then --" A shudder wracks through her.
"What time did she call?" Olivia asks Jason, giving Melanie a moment to compose herself.
"Around nine," Jason says, digging in his pocket for his phone. "I can check if you --"
Olivia waves him away. "We can get phone records." She looks back at Melanie. "Do you remember anything about where they were holding you?" she asks gently, her voice softer. "Anything at all?"
Melanie bites her lip. "It seemed like it was some sort of warehouse, concrete floors, dim light. It was really cold."
Peter looks at Olivia. "Meat packing warehouse?"
"Maybe," Olivia murmurs. "What about the people holding you? Do you remember anything about them?"
Melanie starts to shake her head and then stops . "Wait. I do remember something." She closes her eyes, as if trying to will the memory back to life. "I remember voices -- two of them."
"What are they saying, Melanie?" Olivia asks, and Peter can see her trying to keep her tone level and nonthreatening. "Can you hear them?"
Melanie nods, eyes still closed. "They're saying something about it not working. About how they can't afford anymore tests." Her eyes fly open. "Oh my God. Is that what I was? A test? A test," she repeats, her voice growing higher with each word.
Peter steps forward. "We're not sure. Is there anything else you can tell us? The smallest thing could help us catch them."
Melanie looks near tears, groping blindly for her fiance's hand. "I don't remember!" she says with frustration. "Why can't I remember?"
"They gave you something," Olivia says. "It's not your fault." She digs into her pocket and pulls out a card. She passes it to Jason. "If you remember anything else, no matter how insignificant you think it is, give me a call." She turns to head for the door and Peter gives them both a brief smile and follows.
They're all the way to the door when Melanie says, "Wait."
Olivia stops in her tracks and turns back around in an instant. "Did you --"
Melanie nods, her eyes closed once more. "There's a warehouse. A truck is parked outside."
"Can you tell us anything about the truck? A color, any writing on it, a license plate, anything?" Olivia presses, and Peter sees her hand clenched, poised over her pocket, ready to dig out her notebook with the smallest reason.
"There's a name," Melanie says, eyes flying open. "Capeside Shipping." She presses her fingers to her temple. "I know that name. Why do I know that name?"
Peter knows that name too. Only he knows why he knows it and it's not good. "Capeside Shipping?" he asks, voice sharp. "You're sure?" She sees Olivia look at him out of the corner of his eye and shakes his head once, keeping his gaze intent on Melanie.
Melanie nods again, this time with narrowed eyes. "You know something."
He doesn't answer, but turns to Olivia instead. "We should go. Now."
There must be something about the look on his face, because Olivia doesn't even blink. "Okay." She gives Melanie an apologetic look. "I promise, we'll be in touch. And please let us know if you remember anything else. You've been a big help."
"But -- but --" Melanie stammers, but Peter's already walking out the door. He hears Olivia toss a goodbye Melanie and Jason as she exits, hot on his heels.
"What's going on?" she demands, catching up to him. "Peter?"
He spares her the briefest of glances. "We need to get back to the lab. This -- well, it isn't good, Olivia. In fact it's the opposite of good."
She opens her mouth to press him further, but the look on his face makes her change her mind. "Back at the lab," she repeats with a sigh. "Okay."
Peter knew she'd see it his way.
***
He storms into the lab, the doors clattering behind him, Olivia trailing in his wake. Four faces look up at him with surprise, but it's Astrid that says something first.
"Peter," she says, "is everything alright?"
"He knows something," Olivia says tightly, folding her arms over her chest. "And he refused to tell me what it was until we got back here." She raises her eyebrows at him. "So we're here. Talk."
"I'm sorry," Peter says to Olivia, trying to make it sound more sincere than it really is. He's not that sorry. "I just thought --"
"Peter," Olivia says, "I don't care why. Just start talking before I actually get angry."
"Yes ma'am," he says with a nod. He turns to look at Arthur. "What do you know about Capeside Shipping?"
Arthur's eyes widen, just a little, and Peter sees the pieces fall into place for him. He smiles grimly. Being right is it's own reward. "Capeside Shipping?" Arthur repeats. "As in --"
"As in the Solomon crime family?" Peter finishes. "Yes."
"Okay, want to explain what that means to the rest of us who don't know what the hell you're talking about?" Ariadne asks, frowning at Arthur. "Some of us don't spend our time listening to police scanners for fun."
"I do not --" Arthur starts, and then cuts himself off. He takes a breath. "Capeside Shipping is a local front for a very large, very dangerous organized crime family." He gives Peter a sharp look. "How did you get the name?"
"Our victim remembers seeing a truck with that name on it," Olivia says, already digging her cellphone out of her pocket. "Outside a warehouse."
"And you're thinking that the Solomon's must be the ones behind this," Ariadne says, nodding her head. Peter gives her a surprised look. She shrugs her shoulders. "You didn't think they kept me around because I'm cute, did you?"
Peter opens his mouth to defend himself, but Eames slips his arm over Ariadne's shoulders, squeezing them. "I'm sure Peter thought no such thing," he says. "He's just always a little surprised when people actually manage to keep up with him. It doesn't happen often, you see."
"Very funny," Peter says flatly.
Eames winks at him. "And here I just thought it was true."
Peter stares at Eames for just a second, then shakes his head. It's not worth it. He looks back over his shoulder at Olivia, who's got her phone pressed to her ear and is listening to something intently. He turns back to Arthur. "What do you know about them?"
Arthur spreads his hands out in front of him. "Not much, I'm afraid. Probably not anything more than you do." He frowns and narrows his eyes in concentration. "Wait -- aren't indictments about to come down? The federal prosecutor was about to get information turned over to them from --"
"From Conway & Witter," Olivia finishes for Arthur, snapping her phone closed. She gives Peter a side eyed look. "Sound familiar?"
"The law firm Melanie Jackson works for," Peter says, shaking his head. "Damn it." He spins around to the table with the case files and starts digging through them. "We didn't think there was a connection between the victims, but what if there was?"
Olivia's by his side in an instant. "What kind of connection?"
"Wasn't one of them a federal prosecutor?" Astrid asks, helping Peter with the files. She finds the one she's looking for and holds it out for Olivia. "Here, see? Michael McKay."
"Who just so happens to work in the organized crime division," Olivia says grimly, reading the file in front of her. She looks up. "Who else?"
"Katherine Cameron is a court reporter," Ariadne reads from another file. "I mean, it doesn't say who she's worked with, but--"
"It's probably not a coincidence," Olivia agrees, taking the file from Ariadne. "What about the other victim, Paul Cavender?"
"He's a security guard," Astrid supplies, looking up from the file with a troubled look. "At Capeside Shipping."
"And that all brings it full circle," Eames says. "Wouldn't you say?"
"I would," Olivia says, pinching the bridge of her nose. "But why would a crime family handle things like this? If Mr. Cavender was a witness to something, why wouldn't they just shoot him and be done with it?"
"Maybe they didn't know he'd turned over evidence until after it was done," Peter suggests. He shrugs. "Does it matter? We have what we need to catch them now."
"Everything but where to find them," Arthur points out. Peter gives him a dirty look, and Arthur says, "Just pointing out the obvious."
"It is one of your better talents," Eames agrees, rounding the table to stand next to Peter. He touches Peter's back and it's all Peter can do to not flinch. He can feel heat from Eames' skin burning through his fingertips, and he feels very crowded all of a sudden. He refuses to move, though, ignoring the part of his brain that's telling him that he likes how this feels. This is most definitely not the time.
Olivia shakes her head. "It doesn't make sense," she insists. "What are we missing?"
"I believe Dr. Bishop and I might be of some assistance with that," Yusuf interjects. He gives them a brief smile. "If I'm not interrupting?"
"Of course not," Olivia says, gesturing for them to continue. "Please explain."
"We believe that we've finally managed to replicate the Somnacin variant that our thieves have been using," Yusuf says, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. "Dr. Bishop, would you like to tell them?"
Peter and Astrid trade looks, and Peter starts to say, "Actually, Yusuf," but then Walter is already is already rambling away and Peter closes his mouth with a small sigh. It was worth a try. Eames' hand is still against his back. Which is not what Peter's supposed to be thinking about. Walter. He's supposed to be listening to Walter. Peter tries to make himself concentrate on the words coming out of Walter's mouth, but he's as confused as everyone else looks. "Walter," he says. "Start over. Speak English this time."
"Oh. Right," Walter says, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Peter, I didn't mean to --"
"I know," Peter says, holding up a hand to cut him off. "Just try again."
"Of course." Walter takes a breath and starts over. "It's quite ingenious, really. They've managed to alter the normal Somnacin compound so that the subject will actually forget the information that is being extracted. The symptoms that our victims have experienced post extraction are likely side effects to this, but without a human subject to test it on there is no way for Yusuf and I to be certain."
Peter blinks in surprise. That was not what he was expecting to hear from Walter. From the looks on everyone else's faces, they weren't expecting to hear that either, especially not Olivia, whose mouth seems to be hanging open just the smallest amount.
"They're erasing their memories?" Astrid asks. "How is that even possible?"
Walter opens his mouth to explain, but Peter intervenes. "I don't think we need a chemistry lesson right now," he says quickly. "We need to find out who their next target is going to be and we need to do it fast."
The Agent Dunham side of Olivia snaps back to attention. "Right. I'm going to get a subpoena for records from the shipping company and if you," she waves her hand at Arthur, vaguely, "want to see what you can find out -- and I don't want to know how you find it out -- that would be great."
Arthur nods, looking just the faintest bit amused. "Of course."
Olivia stalks out of the lab, and Peter watches her go. When the door falls shut, he turns back to the rest of their team and rubs his hands together. "Let's catch the bastard."
***
It's after midnight the following night and Peter is trapped in a car with Eames on a stakeout. Olivia got a lead on a location that might be being used as a base of operations, and somehow, over Peter's strenuous objections, they split up for the stakeout. Ariadne opted to help Astrid baby-sit Walter, which left Eames and Arthur and Olivia and Peter, and there was no chance that Peter was going to let Eames and Olivia anywhere near each other.
So he's the one stuck in a small, enclosed space with Eames, trying his best to concentrate on looking for suspicious activity and failing miserably. The worst part of it is that Peter can't find anyone else to blame for this. He wants someone else to blame for this.
Eames breaks the silence between them. "Tell me, Peter," he says, and Peter can hear that whatever is coming next isn't going to be something he wants to hear, "whatever will you do for fun when I'm gone?"
Peter looks at him with eyebrow raised. "Is fun what I've been having since you showed up? I'm so glad you told me."
Eames grins and Peter's palms feel sweaty against the steering wheel. "You've been having fun and you know it," Eames says. "There's no sense in denying it, I know you, Peter."
The worst of it is that Eames does, Peter thinks. He can't deny it, so he doesn't, just looks away, out into the empty street. "This is pointless," he says, drumming his fingers against steering wheel. "I don't know what Olivia's hoping will happen here."
"I imagine she's hoping that Nash will prove to be as stupid as he in fact is and show his face." Eames shrugs. "He's already rolled over on his partners in crime once, there's no reason to believe he won't do it again."
Somehow Peter manages not to roll his eyes. "Right, but we need to catch him in the process of actually doing something illegal. Skulking around warehouses isn't exactly illegal."
Eames laughs and the sound goes down Peter's spine. He's very glad when his phone chooses this exact moment to ring. "Hello?"
"Peter," Olivia says, voice crisp on the other end of the line. "Anything?"
"Not a so much as a homeless person," he reports. "You?"
"Nothing." He can hear the frustration in Olivia's voice.
"Maybe we got the wrong warehouse?"
"Maybe," she says, "but --" There's an unexpected silence, and then Olivia hisses, "A van just pulled up outside, I'm getting ready to go in."
"Without backup?" Peter exclaims, but the line is dead. "Damn it," he curses, reaching over Eames knees to open the glove compartment, withdrawing the gun that Olivia pretends to know he doesn't have. "Stay put," he orders Eames as he gets out of the car, already chasing after Olivia.
When he gets around to the other side of the building, he finds Olivia standing over an unconscious man, Nash already in handcuffs. Peter can hear sirens headed towards them and Olivia nods her head toward the back of the fan. "We got to them before they managed to start the extraction. He's just a little roughed up." She gives Arthur a sharp look. "If you ever --"
Arthur holds up his hands in silent apology. "It will never happen again, you have my word."
"Arthur, really?" Peter asks curiously. Olivia gives him a tight frown. "And I'll take that as my queue to drop it," Peter says, shooting Eames a dirty look when he stops by his side. "I thought I told you to stay in the car."
Eames gives him a quick grin. "And when have you ever known me to follow instructions?"
Peter really hates when Eames asks him questions like that.
"They should leave," Olivia says, with a nod towards Eames and Arthur. "The rest of my team will be here soon and I don't want anyone to know that they were here. And I really doubt either of you want to answer any questions."
"You're sure?" Peter asks. It's a violation of procedure and he knows what it must be costing her.
She nods. "Go."
"Okay, then," Peter says. "You heard her; get out of here, both of you."
Eames claps Peter on the shoulder. "You'll find us when you're done?"
Peter rolls his eyes, but nods, tossing Eames the keys to his car.
"Excellent," Eames says, wrapping an arm around Arthur's shoulder. "We'll save you the check."
The two of them start off towards Peter's waiting car, and Olivia calls out after them. "Thank you," she says. "Really, thank you."
Arthur turns back and gives her a brief smile and nod. "It was our pleasure."
They disappear into the night and Peter turns back to Olivia. "What do you say we make this fast?" he suggests, rubbing his hands together.
Olivia gives him a knowing look. Peter choose to ignore it.
***
Two days later, and Peter's world is mostly back to normal. Arthur and Ariadne already left, for where Peter didn't ask and they didn't offer, although Peter overheard Ariadne giving Astrid her email address before she left. Peter doesn't want to think about what that means for the future; he's pretty sure that the two women together could take over the world if they wanted to.
He hasn't seen Eames since the night of the stakeout, but he's pretty sure that he's still in Boston. It's just a feeling, for all he knows Eames is on the other side of the world by now, but something tells him that he hasn't seen the last of his mysterious friend yet.
It's the end of the day and Peter's alone in the lab. Astrid took Walter to get a hamburger an hour ago, but Peter stayed to work on one of his own projects. When he hears the door open, he assumes that it's Olivia with news about a new case. "Agent Dunham," he says, spinning around on his chair. "What do you have --" His voice trails off when he sees Eames standing in the doorway instead. "You're not Olivia," Peter says weakly.
"No," Eames says, shaking his head. "I'm not." He gives Peter a smile. "Disappointed?"
Peter hesitates for just a second. He could tell the truth or he could lie. They'd both know that it would be a lie either way. "No."
Eames smile gets deeper and he walks towards Peter slowly, deliberately. Peter's mouth goes dry. He scrambles for something to say. "So you must be leaving soon."
"Are you that eager to be rid of me?" Eames asks, not able to contain his laughter. "You'll hurt my feelings, Peter; I thought we'd bonded on this visit."
Peter raises an eyebrow, giving a mental sigh of relief. Banter is safe, banter is good. Banter keeps him from thinking about how Eames is standing close enough that Peter can tell just how good he smells. "I don't think bonded is the right word for it."
Eames laughs again, and Peter really wishes he would stop. It's distracting. "Did you have another suggestion?"
"Where are you heading next?" Peter asks instead, choosing to take the cowards way out and change the subject.
The look on Eames faces tells Peter that Eames knows exactly what Peter's up to but that he'll let him get away with it. "I was thinking about Athens," Eames says. "It's nice this time of year."
Peter nods slowly. "I've heard that."
They stare at each other for a long moment, and Peter's half holding his breath, waiting for something, anything to happen. This feels like the moment when something is finally going to happen.
"Sod it," Eames mutters, and then he's stepping forward and pressing his lips to Peter's. The kiss doesn't last long and it's gentle, almost chaste, and not at all what Peter ever would have expected from him. Eames' lips are cool and dry and just the slightest bit chapped, and his hand is warm against Peter's cheek. When Eames steps back, Peter misses his heat.
Peter stares at him, not sure what to say. That kiss wasn't the goodbye he'd hoped it would be; it felt like the start of something. Peter can't afford for it to have been the start of anything, so he tries to make it goodbye anyway. "I guess I'll see you around."
"You should come with me," Eames says.
Peter blinks in surprise. "Very funny."
"No, Peter," Eames says, taking a step closer. Something Peter can't name is in his eyes. "I was very serious. You should come."
Somehow, Peter manages to not take a step back. "I can't -- what would I tell Olivia? Or Walter for that matter? I may hate him more days than not, but he's my responsibility."
"I know," Eames says, reaching out to touch Peter's cheek again. "Come anyway."
Peter shakes his head, with more regret than he lets on. "I can't."
Eames sighs and gives him a half smile. "I know." He drops his hand and takes a step back. "I had to ask."
"I know."
They stare at each other for a moment more, the air between them thick with things unsaid. In a different world, in a different time, Peter wonders if he would have gone with. He'll never know.
Eames looks away first, starting for the door. "Never fear, Peter," he calls back over his shoulder. "I'll be seeing you again soon." He pauses in the doorway and turns back to give Peter a final smile. "I'll make certain of that."
And with that, Eames is gone, the door swinging shut behind him. Peter watches the closed door and wonders when it will be.