Wouldn't You Know It
A/N: I know a new story is the last thing I need, I mean, I have like 3 stories I need to finish. But this idea crept up on me, and I just had to get it out of me. The premise is, what if Lizzie fell in love with Don first? Hope you enjoy this little story!
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Chapter 1
"Where is he? Where did you send him?"
"Who?"
"You know very well who I'm talking about. I'm in no mood to play games, Red."
Liz spoke quickly and furiously as soon as she got into Reddington's waiting car. She didn't give a damn about greetings and pleasantries, and although she had expected him to play coy, it was nonetheless irritating as hell. It didn't help that her day at work was…crappy, for lack of better word, and she was feeling absolutely intolerant of anything outside of straight-forward answers to her questions. And faster, the better.
"How does Italian sound tonight? I've been meaning to take you to Spago's, their red wine fettucini is to die for." Reddington signaled to Dembe, and soon enough the car was moving, presumably on its way to Spago's.
"Where is Ressler? Please, I need to know." Liz softened her approach, perhaps giving into the heart's desperation that was willing to beg, if she needed to.
"He didn't tell you? He didn't tell you where he was going?"
"No."
Liz briefly looked out the window, trying her might to mask the tinge of disappointment that swelled up in her heart. Damn him. Damn that man. Ressler should've told her, something, anything. They are partners, after all, and there are certain expectations, certain unspoken responsibilities toward one another. He should've at least told her that he would be gone for few days; she should be privy to that. He owed her that much, after all that they've been through.
But, no, she got nothing from him. When he didn't show up to work that day, Liz had to ask Cooper about Ressler's whereabouts, and all he could tell her was that Ressler was placed in an undercover operation for the next two weeks. And when she asked him if it had anything to do with Reddington, Cooper walked away without a word.
"Good. I knew I could trust him to keep this quiet." A small, satisfied smile appeared on Reddington's face, "I expected him to tell you, at least. But, I've got to give him credit where it's due. One thing about Donald, the FBI man follows his orders."
"I knew you were involved with this. Is Cooper in it, too? How much does he know?"
"Cooper? He knows everything, that was the only way he would commission Donald for this operation."
"OK, fine. Forget the ranks and formalities. What did you put him up to do? Where is he?" Liz was becoming more agitated and angry, for what reason she couldn't quite explain, even to herself. If Cooper commissioned it, it's understood that the operation was meticulously analyzed and that there was no way Ressler would be placed in an uncontrolled situation. But, regardless of all that, she just needed to know...where the heck he was.
"Lizzie…don't worry about Donald. He'd be fine."
"Just tell me where he is."
"I can't do that." Reddington kept his eyes resolutely on hers, and she knew that no matter how loud she hollered, he wasn't about to budge. But she had to keep hollering, with all the tremors and dread filling up in her heart, she couldn't give up. And she didn't care how desperate she appeared before Reddington…or what thoughts crossed his mind as she recklessly allowed herself be vulnerable for Ressler. She didn't care, and she wasn't going to pretend any of it.
"I need to know where he is, in case he needs…my help."
"Lizzie, let me assure you, Donald does not need your help."
"Is he on his own in this mission?"
"Yes, I believe so."
"No back-up?"
"No."
"Red…what is this about? You sent him, by himself…for what operation? And why are you keeping this from me?"
And there it was. Reddington was doing that thing that annoyed her the most; he was studying her. His steely eyes were kept upon her face, and every flicker and wrinkle were duly processed into his mind, all the while his lips were twisted into a mysterious smile. Liz was all too familiar with this face of his, the very mug she wanted to punch sometimes.
"Lizzie, I'm not in the position to tell you anything about this operation. It is…how shall I say…a rather delicate situation, and it is best that it's kept quiet, even from you. But, again, rest assured, Donald is going to be fine."
"Are you serious..."
"But what I find more interesting is how you are so…worked up over this. It is quite uncharacteristic of you."
"Well…he is my partner. I'm just looking out for him."
"Yes, partners, of course. But, look at this situation as if you were given individual field work. Sometimes that happens, doesn't it?"
"Yes, but…as a partner, I feel that…I should at least be debriefed of his cases…and the progress of his field work."
"Because you care for him, as a partner."
"Yes, of course, I care for him as a partner. I care very much if something happened to him. I'd care very much if he died!"
Liz clumsily pressed several buttons on the door handle, before finding one that opened the window. With the window opened a jar, she breathed in the cool, fresh air that washed over her with prickly tickles. Everything felt stifling hot at the moment, and she felt herself suffocating with the wild beatings of her heart. The hung air of the encased space, the unnerving eyes of Reddington, the frustration of the conversation that went nowhere…and even the vision of Ressler at his worst moment without her…everything at this present moment seemed like the stuff of nightmares.
"Lizzie, he'd only be gone for two weeks. He'll be back before you know it."
"A lot can happen in those two weeks. Red…you think you know him, but…Ressler can be such a hothead. He has this stupid, "go down in all glory" mentality sometimes…and he's bound to jump into action without thinking about it."
"I know Donald better than you think."
"Red, he needs…back-up."
"You mean, he needs…you."
She shifted her body to face Reddington, "Just…promise me of one thing. If anything happens to Ressler, you have to contact me. This is a personal request, and if you cared for me at all, you'd promise me that. Red, please…I understand that this is an important mission. But if Ressler is in any danger…you have to contact me."
"He means that much to you?"
"Yes."
She responded without a pause, and by the faint rising of his eyebrow, Liz was certain that Reddington was rampant in reading into just about everything she's said. But she didn't care what he thought. She didn't care what connections and suppositions he was making in his busy mind. All she wanted to know, all she cared about at that moment, was Reddington relinquishing to her request, and she held her breath in anxious anticipation.
"Lizzie, if it means that much to you…of course."
. . . . . . .
Reddington was wrong about the two weeks going by quickly. Every hour of everyday seemed to drag on without relief in sight, and her mind was helplessly muddled and distracted with thoughts of Ressler. She wouldn't admit to anyone, but she was worried sick about him, and she wanted him back, sitting on that chair of his, facing her desk in their shared office. She wanted to see that smirk, of haughty impatience, when he's had enough of uncooperative witnesses. She wanted to see that perpetual frown above his eyebrows, the ones that settled so easily when he was remotely distrusting of situations. But what she missed most of all, was what peeked from underbeneath his hardened surface, that of his warmth, protectiveness, loyalty, and…tenderness. She missed him, and damn, why was this so hard?
During the two weeks, Liz had not heard anything about Ressler from both Reddington and Cooper. Cooper was surprisingly terse about his respected agent, and Liz had neither the fortitude nor tenacity to press him any further. She didn't find much success with Reddington either, but she breathed in a bit of relief in knowing that he had promised her if anything would happen to Ressler, she would be the first to know. All Liz had to do was abide her time, and hope that Ressler would return, safe and sound.
The two weeks had finally gone by, but there was still no sign of Ressler. Liz waited one more day for him to show up at the black site, but to no avail, he was dreadfully absent. She considered calling Reddington, but at that point, she definitely was not in the mood to hear his coy responses. So she did what was most unexpected for her to do: march up to Cooper's office and speak to the man responsible.
"Sir."
"Agent Keen, what can I help you with?"
"I would like to inquire about…Agent Ressler. I understand his undercover operation was for the duration of two weeks. Sir, it's been two weeks and two days."
"Yes?"
"As his partner, I would like to be informed whether it is of concern regarding the delay of his return."
Cooper finally lifted his eyes toward Liz from the thick file before him on the desk. She could tell he was mystified at her request, perhaps thinking she was not privy to such bureau business. But with a slight nod, Cooper soon relinquished with a statement that wanted no questions.
"Agent Ressler's mission has been extended to six months."
