Title: Ready for Work
Summary: 1x06. Meera gets a call from Assistant Director Cooper. It's about the Keens, naturally. Resslik ONE SHOT.
Disclaimer: The Blacklist and all things related are property of Jon Bokenkamp and NBC.
Mornings were his least favorite time of day. The routine of keeping awkward hours broke whatever sleeping pattern he used to keep six years ago when the workload wasn't bad and he was still striving to make a name for himself.
Recently, the aches and pains of chasing down Blacklist targets, made the prospect of sleeping both a relief and daunting. Relief, usually because it meant the pain would stop, daunting because the aches and pain would merely start up again once he was conscious and mobile. As if his pride wasn't bruised enough.
Rolling onto his side he spared a glance at the clock on the table. 5:44AM, the sun was only just peeking above the rooftops of the houses, and the right side of the bed was cold like she hadn't slept there in hours. She probably hadn't. Irritated, he sat up and dragged his hands across his face. It was too early to be up, she should be sleeping-
"Ressler, are you decent?"
I guess. Do Boxers count? What's decent after last night? Donald went with grunting in response, none of the verbal answers seemed appropriate. Meera appeared from around the corner and entered the bedroom, dressed and ready for work. Donald watched her grab the pants laid out on the chair at the end of her bed and tossed them in his direction. He grabbed them out of the air and laid them on the bed beside him. "What's the rush? We're not up until seven," He grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Cooper called, it's about Keen," She replied.
His breath caught in his throat at the mention of the novice's name. His brow creased and he asked, "What about her? Reddington decided to share some information with us finally?"
"No, it's about her husband, Tom Keen," Meera replied.
"Her husband?" What? Donald leaned back and opened his legs when she bumped his knee with hers. She placed her knee on the edge of the mattress. In her hand was a cotton tie, red, eye catching and not something he wore often. He raised his chin a little when she wrapped the tie around his neck. Donald bit the edge of his tongue when Meera's knee pressed against his cock. He tried to mask his groan with a cough. She looked down at him with a small smile. "Comfortable?"
"Mostly," He answered, clearing his throat. "You could ease up a little on junior, though." Meera made a face, the same face she made when he actually admitted to being one of those guys that referred to his genitalia as one of their minor self. "I really wish you wouldn't do that," She said.
"I'll work on that," He replied dryly.
She pushed her knee further on the mattress, he scooted further up on the bed by necessity. She continued fixing the red tie around his neck, none the wiser.
"So, what's this about Keen's husband?" He pressed his nose against her middle; he loved the smell of lavender that seemed to follow her whether or not she was wearing perfume.
"Apparently, he may be a double agent."
"What?" He laughed, look up at her. He expected her to laugh along with him, when her expression remained focused and her hands busy with the task at hand, he frowned. "Meera-"
"I'll explain on the way, get dressed," She double checked his tie. Satisfied that it was secure around his neck, she moved away.
Donald frowned. "Wait, no kiss?"
Meera stopped just a few feet away from the door; she turned to face him with an exasperated expression. "Are you serious?" She asked.
He didn't say anything, she knew he didn't have to.
She walked back over to him and grabbed the end of his tie. He was sitting upright in a second. She kissed him hard and long enough to make his legs twitch and the hair on his arms stand on end. His hands were on her hips, fingers hooked under her belt. She bit his tongue, he pulled away with a gasp. Their eyes met for a moment, she nipped his bottom lip and kissed the edge of his mouth. "Satisfied?" She asked, more than a little proud of awestruck look on his face.
"Yeah, I'm good, thanks," He replied, the taste of copper in his mouth.
"Right, we've work to do," Meera smiled. "I'll be downstairs." She left the room straightening her jacket. Donald sat on the bed for about five minutes, fiddling with the red tie before he finally found the mental power to get ready for work.
FIN.