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Caught
Keen had been on the run for ten months. Her and Ressler haven't seen each other, but they communicated over the phone several times. Each conversation always got heated because Ressler tried to get information out of Keen and demand she turn herself in. Of course, Keen didn't listen and argued back. They were not enemies, but tension was building.
Keen was able to obtain vital information about a nuclear bomb being smuggled into the United States. Because of the circumstances, she was not able to relay this information to anybody. Rumors had it that someone within the FBI was facilitating the transaction. Keen's attempts to get in touch with Ressler have failed. Her only other option was to speak to him in person.
Elizabeth Keen smirked as she felt the lock's tumblers shift into position. Her previous colleague's home security left a lot to be desired. With the door unlocked, Keen slipped inside.
The apartment was dark, and Keen was glad that she knew the layout. She had been there only a handful of time a couple years ago. However, she remembered the times well and could safely assume nothing had changed. She also knew her previous partner well, and he was too obsessed with finding her and Reddington to focus on much else.
Once inside, Keen bent down and silently removed her shoes. The apartment's wood flooring had several squeaky boards and she was much quieter in socks. She also didn't was to be rude. Yes, she was breaking in to his home, but she didn't have to track in dirt as well.
While Keen was kneeled, she looked out into the dark hallway and living room. Her eyes were already starting to adjust to the lack of light. Before she had entered the apartment, her watch read 2:12am. The occupant would be asleep by now, so she made her way past the living room, kitchen, and toward the bedroom at the end of the hall.
Keen reached her hand out to the closed bedroom door.
As she did, an arm snaked around her and closed tight on her mouth. The barrel of a gun pressed hard under her jaw.
"Don't," a man's voice said into her ear.
His body pressed up behind her. A foot kicked her legs apart several inches, then settled in between them.
"Don't," the man repeated, "move, talk, blink, or even think." Keen could hear the rage in his voice.
"mmm-" Keen tried to say his name, but his hand held tight to her face.
"What the fuck did I just say, Keen?" the man hissed. He was keeping quiet, trying not to attract unwanted attention from any neighbors.
His mouth was pressed against her, tickling her ear when he spoke. Keen relaxed, showing him with her body that she wasn't going to resist or fight back. After a moment, the man released her mouth, moving his hand down and wrapping across her waist and arms.
"God damn it, Ressler!" Keen whispered loudly. "Let me go. I just wanted to talk. I have info-"
"Don't you start," Ressler interrupted. "I've been trying to get information outa you for months. You're a fugitive, Liz. You killed Conneolly, you're connected to the assassination-"
"OH, don't you start, Ressler, Keen interrupted back. "You know I'm being framed. Damn it, and you know why I killed Connolly! He was threatening you, your career, and he was threatening our team-"
Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't take you into custody right-"
You know you're not going to, Ressler. You need to trust me."
"It's hard to trust you when you make yourself look so guilty."
"That's why it's called trust, Don. You need to trust me even though my actions say otherwise." Keen knew she had him. And she was glad it didn't take too long. She would have a bruise under her jaw from his gun, and wanted to lowered to ease the discomfort.
"I want to trust you, Liz," Ressler's voice was resigned. The gun he had on her lowered, and she heard it softly clank down on a side table behind her.
His arm around her waist didn't budge. The one that previously held the gun came back up and gathered in her hair. His fingers ran through her longer locks, brushing her ear and down the back of her neck. His body was still pressed tight to her back, his foot in between her spread legs.
"What are you doing here so late, anyway?" Ressler asked. "It's the middle of the night, I was asleep. You trying to scare my into trusting you?"
Keen moved her head with Ressler's hand on her neck. "No…It's dark, I was using the cover. And I can't have anyone know I'm here or talking to you about this. I believe the FBI has a mole. I was just hoping to wake you up and have you listen to me."
"You didn't think I would just do the same thing I'm doing right now?"
"Do what, Ressler? Hold me at gunpoint, or give me a neck massage?" Ressler's hand moved and slipped the fabric from Keen's shoulder. His head bent down and Keen felt his mouth on her skin. She sighed and moved her head to the side to give the man more access.
Ressler let the arm that was holding her to him drop. His hand came up again and untucked her shirt on one side, his large hand rested on her bare waist. "How about," Ressler said, "You just show me what you were going to do, and I'll show you what I would have done. Deal?"
Keen's lips spread into a wide grin. This wasn't a part of her plan, but she'd be a liar if she said she wasn't interested by where this was going. The two hadn't seen each other in close to a year, and she remembered the slight sexual tension that always hung in the air when they were partners.
"Deal," Keen whispered. At that, Ressler stepped back from Keen and left her alone in the hallway. She saw his figure open the bedroom door and slip in. Keen followed behind and watched as Ressler lay back down on his bed. She walked up to the side of the bed and looked down at him. She could see better in the room. The shades from the window let in some light. She saw Ressler was dressed in boxers and a thin white tshirt.
Keen was excited. She was now glad she had taken off her shoes, and took advantage of the circumstances to play out what she had wanted to do for years. As he lay on the bed, she crawled on top of him, straddling his waist. She took his hands and held them over his head. She was smiling, liking the switch in roles from the minutes before.
"This is what you would have done?" Ressler asked.
"Yep. Just like this. You would wake up, not be able to move, and I would have to chance to explain myself before you got all FBI on me." Keen leaned closer to Ressler.
"Uh huh. You don't think I would have woken up during this? You're not a feather, Lizzy. I would have felt you get on me." Ressler got loose of Keen's hold on his arms, sliding them up her spread thighs to her waist. He unbuttoned her pants, then untucked the remainder of her shirt and gripped her bare waist. Ressler's hands pulled Keen the rest of the way to him and their lips met in a slow, lingering kiss.
They stayed that way for a long time, feeling and exploring each other. The two removed the other's clothing lazily, drawing out the events to make the night last.
Keen settled back on top of Ressler and lowered herself on him. The feeling of him filling her was almost enough to bring her over the edge. She moaned loudly, and leaned back, her hands on his lower legs. She rode him slow and deep, relishing in the sounds he made. His hands gripped her breasts, running his thumbs over her nipples.
Neither of them could resist any longer, and they came together, gripping each other in a tight embrace.
"I miss you, Liz," Ressler said as they lay together. He was behind her, his arm around her waist.
"I'm going to be back," Keen whispered back. She refused to be a fugitive forever, and will do everything she could to reclaim her status and clear her name. "Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?"
"Maybe I shouldn't," Ressler replied. "Then you would have to come back."
They slept together and didn't speak about anything until the morning. Just before dawn, Keen told Ressler the information she had about the Nuclear bomb. Ressler kissed her then, hard, and pulled her into a tight embrace.
"This doesn't change anything, Keen," Ressler said, serious.
"That's one of the things I love about you, Don." Keen turned, and walked out of the apartment.
