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Fringe, Set Routines, noir!Astrid/noir!Olivia, PG
Title: Set Routines
Author: ALC Punk!
Length: 1200+
Fandom: Fringe
Pairing: noir!Astrid/noir!Olivia
Rating: PG, kissing, mentions of violence
Disclaimer: not mine.
Recipient: sadieflood
Summary: Bandaging Olivia was never Esther's favorite chore.
"That was stupid," Esther announced, and not for the first time. Her fingers were red and sticky now, and despite Olivia's protests, she really did think it was a lot of blood.
Olivia leaned into the scarred leather of her chair, twisted, so her injured shoulder could be bandaged, "It's only a scratch," she said calmly. Almost lightly.
"You got shot," Esther insisted. "You should go to the hospital."
"No." Olivia's tone brooked no argument, but her expression softened when she looked up at Esther, though she winced, too, "I got grazed, Esther. The bullet didn't do much damage."
Esther pressed her lips together on another reply, and hurried to finish bandaging the 'scratch'. As far as she could see, the bullet had done more damage than Olivia wanted to admit, but there was nothing she could do short of knocking the other woman out and dragging her off. And Esther wasn't really fond of hauling her boss around, at the best of times.
At the worst, though... "Do you think they followed you here?"
"No," and Olivia's voice had a grim sort of satisfaction in it as she continued, "I'm pretty sure they're having to find a hospital of their own. We should keep a check on doctors, see if any dealt with gunshot victims tonight."
"Tomorrow," Esther said firmly, pressing the bandage, even though she was done. She was rewarded with a grimace.
"All right. Tomorrow."
"Good." Pleased that she'd won the argument before it truly began, Esther moved away and began cleaning up. If she'd had time, she would have put gloves on--dealing with gunshots wasn't her cup of tea, though, and she'd been too surprised to remember at first. Getting the blood off her fingers took more than a few rags and some alcohol.
"Thank you," Olivia said as she stood up.
Esther made a noise of disapproval and moved to stop her, "You should rest for a little while." She put her hands on Olivia's waist to steady her. "You lost blood, and you're in shock."
"That means I should get warm and put my feet up, right?" Murmured Olivia, as she leaned into Esther.
"Yes." Finding it almost too difficult to hold her boss (she reminded herself that Olivia was her boss every single day, and it didn't seem to do much good) without blushing or doing something she'd later regret, Esther pushed Olivia back into the chair.
Olivia dropped too fast, and yelped as she jarred her wound.
"Sorry--" Esther didn't feel that repentant. She grabbed the trench coat off the rack and draped it over Olivia before patting her good shoulder, "Now stay there until I finish the accounts and then you can help me lock up for the night before I drive you home."
"Are you sure you shouldn't stay with me for observation?"
There was something in Olivia's tone that made Esther's cheeks heat. "We'll see about that when the time comes."
-
It wasn't the first time Olivia had been injured on the job, but as Esther typed up her report (double-spaced, neat lines), she firmly told herself it should be the last. This wasn't the sort of job for either of them, with desperate criminals shooting at them. Or at Olivia. Esther just stayed in the office, sorted Olivia's scrawled notes into order, made mountains of phone calls, and kept the books.
An hour later, she checked on Olivia, and found her napping in her chair, head at an awkward angle. Esther gave a sigh and went to straighten the papers on her desk. They could leave now, and most of her work would be done.
"Olivia," she murmured as she returned, "We can go now."
With a jerk, Olivia straightened and then winced, "God. How long have I been out?"
"Maybe an hour?" Esther checked that Olivia's gun was loaded, then handed it to her. She didn't like it, but not having it might prove fatal if someone was still watching for them. "Let's get you home and fed."
Olivia groaned, "Are you cooking?"
"Yes." It was an easy decision to make. If she didn't, Esther doubted she'd eat before ten that night, once she'd dealt with settling Olivia and helping her get food herself. She raised her eyebrows, "Can you stand?"
Nodding, Olivia slowly got to her feet, favoring her right shoulder. "Why's it always the right?" she groused as she let Esther move in and wrap an arm around her waist.
"They hate it," Esther offered.
Olivia snorted, but remained silent as they negotiated the outer office. Once in the corridor, Esther turned off the interior lights, then locked the door, eyes tracing the gold leaf as they normally did. Olivia had been proud to be able to afford real gold for it, even if it was starting to chip with age now.
A little stiffly, Olivia pulled away and took the lead as they headed down to Esther's car. They saw no one, but that didn't make her relax. Esther opened the door for her, then hurried around to the driver's side while Olivia leaned across and unlocked it for her.
"Should we pick something up on the way, or do you have food?" Esther asked as she pulled smoothly into traffic.
"There's food."
Good. Olivia must have gone for groceries recently, "Straight there it is, then." Besides, trying to conceal Olivia's shoulder while in the store would be harder than it was worth. And Olivia wouldn't have let her go in alone, not after the gun battle earlier.
Esther watched the rear-view mirror for several blocks, making a couple of random, quick, turns before she was certain they weren't being followed. Then she headed straight for Olivia's.
-
"You don't have to do this," Olivia protested as Esther bustled around her kitchen, pulling out food and pots.
"What will you do if I go?"
"Order something."
Esther nodded, "And what if the delivery place is on their pay-roll?"
A snort answered her, but Olivia conceded the logic of it as she sat in one of her kitchen chairs. They were a mis-matched set, scrounged from an abandoned office, but they were sturdy and comfortable. And they didn't show the blood that sometimes got on them.
Finished with throwing together the beginnings, Esther washed her hands and moved to Olivia's side, "I should check and see if it's swelling yet." She brushed her fingers over the bandage and felt no heat.
"It's fine," Olivia muttered.
Esther dropped her hands and leaned against the counter, "If you're sure."
"I'm the one injured," was the irritable reply.
With a chuckle, Esther moved away to pull out plates to set on the scarred Formica table halfway into the living area.
"You know," Olivia said, her voice dry, "You really don't--"
"So you keep saying." Turning back, Esther was surprised to find Olivia on her feet, and a lot closer than she had been. "You should sit."
"Is that what the doctor orders?" With one eyebrow raised, Olivia stepped closer.
"That is what I order," Esther said firmly, fighting the little fluttery feeling in her gut. Really, she was being fanciful, if she thought that Olivia was thinking about that while she was injured.
Then again, Olivia's gaze was fastened on her mouth. "Maybe I don't like taking orders."
"Now you sound like a sulky two-year-old." It was Esther's turn to be dry.
Olivia laughed and then winced, "Laughing hurts, check."
Reaching out, Esther put her hands on Olivia's waist, "Now, sit--"
She didn't get to finish her order. Olivia's fingers slid up her arms, stroking in a way that made Esther's breath catch. "Come sit on the couch with me," suggested Olivia.
Her boss, Esther reminded herself. But she followed Olivia to the couch, letting her sit down first. "Dinner," she started to say.
"Can wait--" Olivia yanked at Esther's wrist, pulling her off-balance and to the couch.
Feeling almost out of control, Esther caught herself on the back, and closed the distance to Olivia's mouth. "This can't be good for you," she murmured.
"I'll decide that," was Olivia's husky reply before she reached up and cupped Esther's cheek, urging her closer again.
The kiss was even better the second time, and Esther found her knees giving out. Sinking to the couch was a good idea, even if it left her half-sprawled against Olivia.
"I think," Olivia said, kissing along Esther's jaw, "That this is speeding my recovery."
"Just what the doctor ordered," mumbled Esther before she leaned against the back of the couch so as not to jar Olivia, and returned to kissing her.
Dinner didn't burn, but it was a close call.
-f-
Author: ALC Punk!
Length: 1200+
Fandom: Fringe
Pairing: noir!Astrid/noir!Olivia
Rating: PG, kissing, mentions of violence
Disclaimer: not mine.
Recipient: sadieflood
Summary: Bandaging Olivia was never Esther's favorite chore.
"That was stupid," Esther announced, and not for the first time. Her fingers were red and sticky now, and despite Olivia's protests, she really did think it was a lot of blood.
Olivia leaned into the scarred leather of her chair, twisted, so her injured shoulder could be bandaged, "It's only a scratch," she said calmly. Almost lightly.
"You got shot," Esther insisted. "You should go to the hospital."
"No." Olivia's tone brooked no argument, but her expression softened when she looked up at Esther, though she winced, too, "I got grazed, Esther. The bullet didn't do much damage."
Esther pressed her lips together on another reply, and hurried to finish bandaging the 'scratch'. As far as she could see, the bullet had done more damage than Olivia wanted to admit, but there was nothing she could do short of knocking the other woman out and dragging her off. And Esther wasn't really fond of hauling her boss around, at the best of times.
At the worst, though... "Do you think they followed you here?"
"No," and Olivia's voice had a grim sort of satisfaction in it as she continued, "I'm pretty sure they're having to find a hospital of their own. We should keep a check on doctors, see if any dealt with gunshot victims tonight."
"Tomorrow," Esther said firmly, pressing the bandage, even though she was done. She was rewarded with a grimace.
"All right. Tomorrow."
"Good." Pleased that she'd won the argument before it truly began, Esther moved away and began cleaning up. If she'd had time, she would have put gloves on--dealing with gunshots wasn't her cup of tea, though, and she'd been too surprised to remember at first. Getting the blood off her fingers took more than a few rags and some alcohol.
"Thank you," Olivia said as she stood up.
Esther made a noise of disapproval and moved to stop her, "You should rest for a little while." She put her hands on Olivia's waist to steady her. "You lost blood, and you're in shock."
"That means I should get warm and put my feet up, right?" Murmured Olivia, as she leaned into Esther.
"Yes." Finding it almost too difficult to hold her boss (she reminded herself that Olivia was her boss every single day, and it didn't seem to do much good) without blushing or doing something she'd later regret, Esther pushed Olivia back into the chair.
Olivia dropped too fast, and yelped as she jarred her wound.
"Sorry--" Esther didn't feel that repentant. She grabbed the trench coat off the rack and draped it over Olivia before patting her good shoulder, "Now stay there until I finish the accounts and then you can help me lock up for the night before I drive you home."
"Are you sure you shouldn't stay with me for observation?"
There was something in Olivia's tone that made Esther's cheeks heat. "We'll see about that when the time comes."
-
It wasn't the first time Olivia had been injured on the job, but as Esther typed up her report (double-spaced, neat lines), she firmly told herself it should be the last. This wasn't the sort of job for either of them, with desperate criminals shooting at them. Or at Olivia. Esther just stayed in the office, sorted Olivia's scrawled notes into order, made mountains of phone calls, and kept the books.
An hour later, she checked on Olivia, and found her napping in her chair, head at an awkward angle. Esther gave a sigh and went to straighten the papers on her desk. They could leave now, and most of her work would be done.
"Olivia," she murmured as she returned, "We can go now."
With a jerk, Olivia straightened and then winced, "God. How long have I been out?"
"Maybe an hour?" Esther checked that Olivia's gun was loaded, then handed it to her. She didn't like it, but not having it might prove fatal if someone was still watching for them. "Let's get you home and fed."
Olivia groaned, "Are you cooking?"
"Yes." It was an easy decision to make. If she didn't, Esther doubted she'd eat before ten that night, once she'd dealt with settling Olivia and helping her get food herself. She raised her eyebrows, "Can you stand?"
Nodding, Olivia slowly got to her feet, favoring her right shoulder. "Why's it always the right?" she groused as she let Esther move in and wrap an arm around her waist.
"They hate it," Esther offered.
Olivia snorted, but remained silent as they negotiated the outer office. Once in the corridor, Esther turned off the interior lights, then locked the door, eyes tracing the gold leaf as they normally did. Olivia had been proud to be able to afford real gold for it, even if it was starting to chip with age now.
A little stiffly, Olivia pulled away and took the lead as they headed down to Esther's car. They saw no one, but that didn't make her relax. Esther opened the door for her, then hurried around to the driver's side while Olivia leaned across and unlocked it for her.
"Should we pick something up on the way, or do you have food?" Esther asked as she pulled smoothly into traffic.
"There's food."
Good. Olivia must have gone for groceries recently, "Straight there it is, then." Besides, trying to conceal Olivia's shoulder while in the store would be harder than it was worth. And Olivia wouldn't have let her go in alone, not after the gun battle earlier.
Esther watched the rear-view mirror for several blocks, making a couple of random, quick, turns before she was certain they weren't being followed. Then she headed straight for Olivia's.
-
"You don't have to do this," Olivia protested as Esther bustled around her kitchen, pulling out food and pots.
"What will you do if I go?"
"Order something."
Esther nodded, "And what if the delivery place is on their pay-roll?"
A snort answered her, but Olivia conceded the logic of it as she sat in one of her kitchen chairs. They were a mis-matched set, scrounged from an abandoned office, but they were sturdy and comfortable. And they didn't show the blood that sometimes got on them.
Finished with throwing together the beginnings, Esther washed her hands and moved to Olivia's side, "I should check and see if it's swelling yet." She brushed her fingers over the bandage and felt no heat.
"It's fine," Olivia muttered.
Esther dropped her hands and leaned against the counter, "If you're sure."
"I'm the one injured," was the irritable reply.
With a chuckle, Esther moved away to pull out plates to set on the scarred Formica table halfway into the living area.
"You know," Olivia said, her voice dry, "You really don't--"
"So you keep saying." Turning back, Esther was surprised to find Olivia on her feet, and a lot closer than she had been. "You should sit."
"Is that what the doctor orders?" With one eyebrow raised, Olivia stepped closer.
"That is what I order," Esther said firmly, fighting the little fluttery feeling in her gut. Really, she was being fanciful, if she thought that Olivia was thinking about that while she was injured.
Then again, Olivia's gaze was fastened on her mouth. "Maybe I don't like taking orders."
"Now you sound like a sulky two-year-old." It was Esther's turn to be dry.
Olivia laughed and then winced, "Laughing hurts, check."
Reaching out, Esther put her hands on Olivia's waist, "Now, sit--"
She didn't get to finish her order. Olivia's fingers slid up her arms, stroking in a way that made Esther's breath catch. "Come sit on the couch with me," suggested Olivia.
Her boss, Esther reminded herself. But she followed Olivia to the couch, letting her sit down first. "Dinner," she started to say.
"Can wait--" Olivia yanked at Esther's wrist, pulling her off-balance and to the couch.
Feeling almost out of control, Esther caught herself on the back, and closed the distance to Olivia's mouth. "This can't be good for you," she murmured.
"I'll decide that," was Olivia's husky reply before she reached up and cupped Esther's cheek, urging her closer again.
The kiss was even better the second time, and Esther found her knees giving out. Sinking to the couch was a good idea, even if it left her half-sprawled against Olivia.
"I think," Olivia said, kissing along Esther's jaw, "That this is speeding my recovery."
"Just what the doctor ordered," mumbled Esther before she leaned against the back of the couch so as not to jar Olivia, and returned to kissing her.
Dinner didn't burn, but it was a close call.
-f-