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quirkysmuseFandom: Fringe
Title: Once is Enough
Characters: Peter, Astrid, Dr. Bishop, Peter/Astrid implied
Word Count: 1,364
Rating: G
Genre: General/Fluff
Spoilers/Notes: general season one knowledge. This is my first Fringe fic. I needed a break from NaNoWriMo and had to get this idea out of my head.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fringe nor do I make profit from it. It is the property of JJ Abrams, Fox, and all respective parties.
Summary: Astrid could deal with the butchering of her name, especially when Peter Bishop had made things easier.
Astrid had tried to not let Dr. Bishop’s continued butchering of her name get to her. She was used to brushing it off, but she did admit at times it got really annoying. She’d worked closely with the man for a long time on the most dramatic and breakthrough projects and he still couldn’t remember her name.
What was even worse, he’d even drugged her at one point.
Still, it was probably hopeless for him to change, but at least Peter was annoyed as much by his habit as she was, and his concern had become enduring. The younger Bishop had always kept the group grounded in the most stressful times. He questioned the extraordinary and the highly impossible, and he tried to rectify his father’s habitual misgivings, even if it exhausted him.
She admired Peter for that, and she thought that maybe Peter was the wedge between her and Dr. Bishop that prevented her from walking off the project for good. There had been times when Dr. Bishop just became too much for her nerves to handle. She was calm, she tried not to stare at the exit too much, and she worked her way through it. Tomorrow was another day.
It wasn’t until this one day that she decided she wasn’t going to leave anymore. That she didn’t have to. It was all thanks to Peter.
“Will you get her name right, already? How many times do I have to tell you, it’s Astrid!” Peter chided him. He looked exhausted more than ever. Agent Dunham had mentioned that Peter had a hard time sleeping. Either his father kept him up during the night by talking and singing in his sleep, or he was having deep thoughts that led to very lucid dreams about his father and his past. Olivia didn’t say much more because Peter was still very guarded about some things; though, she was sure that it wasn’t that he was guarded, but rather he had lost a lot of memories of his youth.
When Dr. Bishop apologized to her graciously for the millionth time, he went back to his work while Peter grumbled in the background. The cow mooed in her two cents, and the incident was over for now. Astrid didn’t want to count the minutes down until he did it again.
She huffed, and Peter must have heard her. He met her gaze apologetically, and Astrid had to brace herself from getting trapped into his attractive, dark eyes.
“Look, Astrid, I’m really sorry about him. I wish he’d stop that, but you know…” he rambled.
Astrid blew out a breath and tapped his arm. “Peter, it’s okay. It’s fine.” It really wasn’t, but there was nothing either of them could do. She tried to humor herself. Maybe she should keep a score card of how many different variations of her name he invented. She frowned, and she didn’t realize Peter was still looking at her.
“Hey, what are you doing in…oh, say four minutes?” Peter asked her. Astrid looked up from her work with wide eyes.
“Uh… I suppose I’ll be right here, working with Dr. Bishop. Why?” The wild look in his eyes and smile had surprised her. Just what was he up to? He moved closer to her and Astrid stiffened. Automatically, she said a mantra in her head: ‘Don’t blush, Astrid. Don’t blush; don’t, blush…’
“I’m guessing you can spare some time working in here and being called names that are not yours to join me in time away from test tubes, incoherent grumbling, and whatever that smell is leaking out of every pore of this wall. What do you say? Coffee?”
Astrid stared at him incredulously, but somehow that Peter Bishop charm seeped into her, and she caught his contagious smile.
“Actually, I could go for some lunch. I haven’t eaten all morning,” she said, knowing it was her stomach talking now and not her. She’d been ignoring the pangs and growls all morning, and Peter was right. She really could get away for awhile.
“Then it’s settled,” Peter said, turning around to address his father. He didn’t look excited but rather motivated by courtesy. “Hey, Dad, want us to pick you up something for lunch?”
Dr. Bishop had finished his string of rambles before answering his son, and then he paused. He tapped his finger to his chin. “I would like something frosty, like a slush...a slush… oh, what do they call it? And maybe some pea soup. There’s been this curious smell in the lab today that reminds me of pea soup, and it has made me dreadfully hungry.”
Peter rolled his eyes, and Astrid had to hold back a laugh. “Ooookay, pea soup and a slushy. I think we can work with that.” Peter motioned his head out the door, and Astrid grabbed her light jacked before following him out the exit. Oh, that sweet exit, she thought, anxious to leave some of her problems hear inside the lab as they went out for some food and fresh air.
Before they had a chance to leave, Dr. Bishop called them back. “Oh, Peter and Astrid…” They both froze, and in sync, they turned around to address him. Astrid’s jaw had dropped, and Peter looked astounded. “Could you also pick me up something for Gene? She’s been quiet all morning. I wonder if she’s hungry.”
Astrid said nothing, but Peter responded. “Right, the cow gets a snack too. Come on, Astrid.” She nodded and followed him silently out of the university. When they arrived at his car, Astrid turned around to look at him.
“He said my name.” She was completely floored. How did that happen? Did it happen? Maybe she had been drugged again unknowingly, and it was just a hallucination. She stepped forward and grabbed Peter’s coat, who was grinning at her. “Don’t tell me that didn’t happen, Peter. He got my name right. He got my name right!”
Peter laughed at her reaction, but her head was still spinning from the unimaginable.
“It’s a miracle,” Peter commented cheekily. Astrid, who still had a firm grip on his coat, bounced in her spot uncharacteristically.
“He got it right! Oh my God, what is he on that he got my name right?” She smiled at Peter, bouncing and celebrating, and she swore if he kept laughing and smiling and being enduring on her behalf, she would be tempted to kiss him out of glee.
“It has to be your doing!” she accused. “What did you say to him?”
“What? Nothing,” Peter played it off, but his smile said something differently. “Okay, maybe when he’s a sleep I turn on a recorder next to his bed and play subliminal messages that say, ‘Her name is Astrid, Astrid, Astrid’, over and over again, but that stuff doesn’t work. Of course you don’t believe that. Not that I’d even have time to do that, even if it does sound fun,” he joked, and Astrid continued to beam at him with excitement. She loosened her grip on his coat and stared at him, feeling warmth flush to her cheeks. So much for not blushing, but she really could kiss him now.
“So, are you hungry?” he asked with an aftershock of small chuckles. Astrid nodded and let go of his coat, feeling slightly embarrassed for losing her cool like that. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from the fact that his father had gotten her name right.
Inside the car, Astrid let out a deep sigh. “It just doesn’t seem possible.”
“Well, don’t get your hopes up,” he cracked sarcastically. “It was only once. He’ll probably mess it up again.”
Astrid shook her head. “That’s okay. He got it right once, so there’s hope for him yet.” She caught Peter’s long stare, and she felt that he agreed with her, but for something else entirely.
He turned the key in the ignition and rewarded her with a hopeful grin. “Right, hope,” he said, and Astrid caught a change of tone in his voice. Maybe for someone as skeptical as Peter, he was starting to see his father differently too, just as she was.
END
Title: Once is Enough
Characters: Peter, Astrid, Dr. Bishop, Peter/Astrid implied
Word Count: 1,364
Rating: G
Genre: General/Fluff
Spoilers/Notes: general season one knowledge. This is my first Fringe fic. I needed a break from NaNoWriMo and had to get this idea out of my head.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fringe nor do I make profit from it. It is the property of JJ Abrams, Fox, and all respective parties.
Summary: Astrid could deal with the butchering of her name, especially when Peter Bishop had made things easier.
Astrid had tried to not let Dr. Bishop’s continued butchering of her name get to her. She was used to brushing it off, but she did admit at times it got really annoying. She’d worked closely with the man for a long time on the most dramatic and breakthrough projects and he still couldn’t remember her name.
What was even worse, he’d even drugged her at one point.
Still, it was probably hopeless for him to change, but at least Peter was annoyed as much by his habit as she was, and his concern had become enduring. The younger Bishop had always kept the group grounded in the most stressful times. He questioned the extraordinary and the highly impossible, and he tried to rectify his father’s habitual misgivings, even if it exhausted him.
She admired Peter for that, and she thought that maybe Peter was the wedge between her and Dr. Bishop that prevented her from walking off the project for good. There had been times when Dr. Bishop just became too much for her nerves to handle. She was calm, she tried not to stare at the exit too much, and she worked her way through it. Tomorrow was another day.
It wasn’t until this one day that she decided she wasn’t going to leave anymore. That she didn’t have to. It was all thanks to Peter.
“Will you get her name right, already? How many times do I have to tell you, it’s Astrid!” Peter chided him. He looked exhausted more than ever. Agent Dunham had mentioned that Peter had a hard time sleeping. Either his father kept him up during the night by talking and singing in his sleep, or he was having deep thoughts that led to very lucid dreams about his father and his past. Olivia didn’t say much more because Peter was still very guarded about some things; though, she was sure that it wasn’t that he was guarded, but rather he had lost a lot of memories of his youth.
When Dr. Bishop apologized to her graciously for the millionth time, he went back to his work while Peter grumbled in the background. The cow mooed in her two cents, and the incident was over for now. Astrid didn’t want to count the minutes down until he did it again.
She huffed, and Peter must have heard her. He met her gaze apologetically, and Astrid had to brace herself from getting trapped into his attractive, dark eyes.
“Look, Astrid, I’m really sorry about him. I wish he’d stop that, but you know…” he rambled.
Astrid blew out a breath and tapped his arm. “Peter, it’s okay. It’s fine.” It really wasn’t, but there was nothing either of them could do. She tried to humor herself. Maybe she should keep a score card of how many different variations of her name he invented. She frowned, and she didn’t realize Peter was still looking at her.
“Hey, what are you doing in…oh, say four minutes?” Peter asked her. Astrid looked up from her work with wide eyes.
“Uh… I suppose I’ll be right here, working with Dr. Bishop. Why?” The wild look in his eyes and smile had surprised her. Just what was he up to? He moved closer to her and Astrid stiffened. Automatically, she said a mantra in her head: ‘Don’t blush, Astrid. Don’t blush; don’t, blush…’
“I’m guessing you can spare some time working in here and being called names that are not yours to join me in time away from test tubes, incoherent grumbling, and whatever that smell is leaking out of every pore of this wall. What do you say? Coffee?”
Astrid stared at him incredulously, but somehow that Peter Bishop charm seeped into her, and she caught his contagious smile.
“Actually, I could go for some lunch. I haven’t eaten all morning,” she said, knowing it was her stomach talking now and not her. She’d been ignoring the pangs and growls all morning, and Peter was right. She really could get away for awhile.
“Then it’s settled,” Peter said, turning around to address his father. He didn’t look excited but rather motivated by courtesy. “Hey, Dad, want us to pick you up something for lunch?”
Dr. Bishop had finished his string of rambles before answering his son, and then he paused. He tapped his finger to his chin. “I would like something frosty, like a slush...a slush… oh, what do they call it? And maybe some pea soup. There’s been this curious smell in the lab today that reminds me of pea soup, and it has made me dreadfully hungry.”
Peter rolled his eyes, and Astrid had to hold back a laugh. “Ooookay, pea soup and a slushy. I think we can work with that.” Peter motioned his head out the door, and Astrid grabbed her light jacked before following him out the exit. Oh, that sweet exit, she thought, anxious to leave some of her problems hear inside the lab as they went out for some food and fresh air.
Before they had a chance to leave, Dr. Bishop called them back. “Oh, Peter and Astrid…” They both froze, and in sync, they turned around to address him. Astrid’s jaw had dropped, and Peter looked astounded. “Could you also pick me up something for Gene? She’s been quiet all morning. I wonder if she’s hungry.”
Astrid said nothing, but Peter responded. “Right, the cow gets a snack too. Come on, Astrid.” She nodded and followed him silently out of the university. When they arrived at his car, Astrid turned around to look at him.
“He said my name.” She was completely floored. How did that happen? Did it happen? Maybe she had been drugged again unknowingly, and it was just a hallucination. She stepped forward and grabbed Peter’s coat, who was grinning at her. “Don’t tell me that didn’t happen, Peter. He got my name right. He got my name right!”
Peter laughed at her reaction, but her head was still spinning from the unimaginable.
“It’s a miracle,” Peter commented cheekily. Astrid, who still had a firm grip on his coat, bounced in her spot uncharacteristically.
“He got it right! Oh my God, what is he on that he got my name right?” She smiled at Peter, bouncing and celebrating, and she swore if he kept laughing and smiling and being enduring on her behalf, she would be tempted to kiss him out of glee.
“It has to be your doing!” she accused. “What did you say to him?”
“What? Nothing,” Peter played it off, but his smile said something differently. “Okay, maybe when he’s a sleep I turn on a recorder next to his bed and play subliminal messages that say, ‘Her name is Astrid, Astrid, Astrid’, over and over again, but that stuff doesn’t work. Of course you don’t believe that. Not that I’d even have time to do that, even if it does sound fun,” he joked, and Astrid continued to beam at him with excitement. She loosened her grip on his coat and stared at him, feeling warmth flush to her cheeks. So much for not blushing, but she really could kiss him now.
“So, are you hungry?” he asked with an aftershock of small chuckles. Astrid nodded and let go of his coat, feeling slightly embarrassed for losing her cool like that. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from the fact that his father had gotten her name right.
Inside the car, Astrid let out a deep sigh. “It just doesn’t seem possible.”
“Well, don’t get your hopes up,” he cracked sarcastically. “It was only once. He’ll probably mess it up again.”
Astrid shook her head. “That’s okay. He got it right once, so there’s hope for him yet.” She caught Peter’s long stare, and she felt that he agreed with her, but for something else entirely.
He turned the key in the ignition and rewarded her with a hopeful grin. “Right, hope,” he said, and Astrid caught a change of tone in his voice. Maybe for someone as skeptical as Peter, he was starting to see his father differently too, just as she was.
END
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on 2008-11-13 04:40 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading and commenting, hon! <3
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on 2008-12-22 12:44 pm (UTC)Thanks again for reading!
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