AN: So, this is my Secret Santa gift for CorkyB45! The plot is "Lizzington on New Year's Eve; anywhere". I realize I got a little carried away here and ended up writing something like 14k + words, but there will be celebrating of the new year, I promise. I really hope you'll like this fic, Thia! The rating will change later on. Special thanks to wonderful redisthenewblackington for being a wonderful beta. The cover pic? All her doing as well. What a coincidence that she drew Thia in the second Secret Santa! We just had to do this when we found out! Merry Christmas. Have a great time celebrating. Cheers.
Disclaimer: All I wanted for Christmas was the Spades and guess what? Right, didn't get him. So, I still own nothing.
Chapter 1
She hated this time of the year. People were running around with smiles on their faces, all joyful and oblivious to the problems in the world. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit. Maybe it was because they were with their loved ones. She didn't have any loved ones, not since her father had died and her pretend husband had bailed on her. Well, she did get him back… and kind of locked him up on a rusty old ship. She didn't have anyone since then.
Now, that wasn't entirely true. She had Red, sort of. She had been relieved when he had found out about the way she had been hiding things from him. Lying just wasn't her strong suit. She had expected him to hate her for putting his life in danger, for keeping from him that she had actually not killed her fake husband as she had claimed, for lying straight into his face. But he hadn't. After her confession on the ship, his face had changed from angry to a mixture of sympathy and pain. He was hurting, for her. And he had taken her in his arms and Liz remembered how she had finally let go of months of pent up emotions.
She had sagged against him, crying into his neck and he had simply held on, had even pressed little kisses here and there and Liz remembered how good that had felt. After everything had gone to hell she had had almost no human contact at all, at least in the physical way. And she had missed it, so very much. Liz had always been somewhat of a snuggle bug. She loved curling up on the sofa, pressing herself as close as possible to her loved ones. Back when she was a kid, Sam had had a hard time getting her to sit down like a big girl as she had always preferred to sit on his lap, not that he had minded anyway. With Tom it had been similar, though now that she thought back to it, he had always preferred to sleep purely on his side, with as little contact as possible. He had claimed that she was just too warm. Liz hadn't minded that much. They had, after all, always made lo – had sex regularly, so she didn't feel as if he was not fully into her.
After finding out who he truly was, all these hugs and kisses, simple touches, they had all felt so wrong and she had learned to hate them, but at least it had been some sort of human contact. When that was over as well, she had to make do with a pillow. Sometimes she really missed Hudson, at least the mutt had always been more than eager to cuddle.
Then there was Red, and Liz knew deep down that he cared about her deeply. So when his strong arms had pulled her into a tight embrace, she had felt safe. His warm scent had infiltrated her nostrils and made it impossible for her to pull away again. She had hugged him back desperately, her fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his suit jacket under the coat he had worn. His nose had nuzzled her temple, before he had buried it into her hair. Liz was sure she had felt him drawing in a deep breath as if he was fond of her scent. And maybe he was, maybe he was even as fond of her scent as she was of his.
Liz sat up straight, the chair rolling slightly backwards at the movement. She was in her office. She was alone, as everyone had left already. Of course they had, it was Christmas after all, not that she cared even one bit. Aram had invited her to spend some time with his family over the holidays and she remembered Ressler "casually" mentioning that the people working at the Post Office were going to celebrate New Year's Eve together and that she should join. Fat chance. She would not pretend she was happy when she was not, at least not while she was off duty. She would sit at home and NOT think about Red. It was bad enough that she had been doing that for the past – she looked at her watch – two hours.
How was that even possible? Daydreaming of the criminal mastermind she had to work with. Dreaming about his hands and the bad things he had done with them and how impossible it was that they were so very gentle when he was touching her, when he used his thumbs to wipe away her tears before cupping her face in warm palms and softly looking at her before brushing his lips over her forehead… there we go again. She really had to stop thinking about him, but it was hard to just stop, especially since he had been gone for over a week now and she hadn't even talked to him on the phone. It was like he had vanished. The mere thought of that tore at her heart. Liz took a deep breath, no, he wouldn't do that. Christmas was probably too painful for him still and that was why he chose to be away from all of it. He had done so last year, but she had still been with Tom then and had not given it much thought.
She wanted to kick herself for being such a bitch back then. At least he had Dembe with him, so he wasn't alone. Talking about karma…
Liz shut down her computer and shrugged on her coat, wrapping her scarf around her neck and groaning when she felt the material scratch over her skin. She hated that thing, but never got around to buying a new one. Closing her office door behind her, she went onto the elevator and made her way down.
"Goodnight, Agent Keen. Merry Christmas."
Startled, she shot around and looked at the security guard. "Why are you still here, Mitch? It's 8 pm."
The young man shrugged. "Someone has to stand guard as long as there are agents in the post office."
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! You should've told me! I would've never kept you. I'm so sorry!"
He gave her a bright smile. "It's fine, Agent Keen. There's too much going on at the parent's house anyway."
Knowing how quickly things could change, she shook her head. "No, really, you should've said something. I don't have anything pressing going on anyway."
"Then why are you even here?"
That is the one million dollar question. "Just killing some time."
"Date later tonight?" He asked with a wink and Liz gave him a polite smile.
"Something like that. Alright, I'll let you go then. Have a good time celebrating with your family and next time, just tell me." She started walking away.
"Thank you. Merry Christmas, Agent Keen."
"Merry Christmas. And call me Liz." She didn't wait for a reply as she kept on walking towards the car.
When she got home, she drew herself a warm bath and settled into the tub with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, finally relaxing for the first time in months…
A couple of days later Liz found herself curled up on her couch, watching a rather boring documentary about flags and what they were symbolizing. She really wanted to change channels, but that would require moving and she did not want to move. Her cell started ringing and she groaned. Now she actually had to move. Reluctantly she pulled her hand from under the warm cocoon of her blanket and reached for her cell.
"Yeah?"
"Hello, Lizzie. Am I interrupting?" His rich voice came.
"Red!" She squeezed her eyes shut at the excitement in her voice. Hopefully he hadn't picked up on it.
A chuckle from his side crushed that hope. "Why, did you miss me, Lizzie?"
She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling. "It certainly was boring without you around."
If he caught her half lie, he decided not to pressure her on the matter. "At least you could catch up on some much needed sleep. Did you get my present?" He suddenly asked.
Liz blushed and looked over to the armchair across from her. Over the back hung a beautiful silk scarf. She had received the package on the last day of Christmas, with a simple card that stated 'Merry Christmas' in red ink. There had been no mistaking who it had come from.
"Yes," she answered softly. "You didn't have to."
"Ah, nonsense. I wanted to."
"It's beautiful, Red. Thank you."
"I'm glad you like it." He sounded pleased. "It was handmade in Valparaíso, Chile."
She slid down on the couch and pulled the blanket more tightly around her body. His voice was soothing and she was getting sleepy. "Is that where you are?"
"It's where I got the scarf," he evaded the question and Liz just mumbled something in response. "Are you falling asleep on me, sweetheart?"
"I'm wide awake," she replied, though her eyes were closed.
"Am I boring you?" He asked with a chuckle.
"No. I'm just really cozy where I am right now."
"In bed?" Had his voice dropped a notch right there?
"Couch."
He chuckled again. "And here I thought you had gotten enough rest. You will have to get up now though."
"I don't think so."
"Dembe and I are coming by in an hour to pick you up. You will need to pack a bag."
She shot up and the blanket fell to the floor. "Wait, what?"
"We're going on a little trip. Warm clothes, Lizzie," he said.
"Red! Red? Hello?" She checked the screen and saw that he had already hung up on her. "Son of a…" She let out a frustrated scream. If he was serious… but of course he would be. He wasn't one to joke about travel. Maybe he had found them a new blacklister already.
An hour later she heard the front door of her new apartment open and then close again. When would he learn to knock?
"Lizzie?" She exited her bedroom, a bag in her hand, the new scarf wrapped around her neck, and he couldn't help but smile. "I knew it would look stunning on you."
She smiled back at him and then took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "Red is my color," she said, and then stood on her tiptoes to press her lips to his cheek. The second her lips touched his skin, Red's eyes fell shut and he had to fight hard against just leaning into the touch. "Thank you, Red," she whispered.
Her warm breath ghosted over his cheek and Red felt his heart skip several beats. When she pulled away, he nervously cleared his throat. That woman would be the death of him. "You're welcome," he managed to get out, but it lacked its usual drive. "Are you ready?"
She nodded and led the way to the door. "Should I call Ressler and let him know where to meet us?"
Red opened the door of the Mercedes and after a quick greeting to Dembe, she got in. "Heavens, no!" He exclaimed before shutting the door and getting in himself. "I don't even want to hear Captain America's name."
Liz laughed at that. "So who are we taking down?"
"Taking down?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"The next blacklister. Who is it?"
"Oh." Red stuck his tongue against the inside of his cheek. "I'm afraid there is none. I'm sure there are several, but that is not our concern this time."
She contemplated that for a moment and then nodded. "Alright. Where are we going then?"
"I thought we could spend some time in Reykjavik, and then we'll just go from there."
"What?"
"Reyk -"
"Yeah, yeah, I got that part," she interrupted. "Why Iceland?"
"I see you know you're geography. I'm impressed, Lizzie."
"Oh, please." She waved him off, but he could see the hint of a blush creeping up her neck. "Now, why are we going to Iceland?"
"I realize I haven't been around for... some time. And I would like to take you somewhere nice for New Year's Eve."
"Still, you didn't have to do that. I know you're quite busy." He just gave her a quick smile. Did he think she was ungrateful? Because she wasn't. She was excited to see a new country and she was more than delighted that he would take her, but he had to know that he did not have to go through that much trouble.
Before she could even open her mouth again, the car stopped inside a hanger and Red excited the vehicle. This time it was Dembe who opened the door for her. The concierge of crime was already on his way up the stairs, talking to the pilot that was waiting inside the private jet. Liz rolled her eyes. He could really be a diva at times. Sometimes she wondered just how he could be as good as he was at what he's doing, when his feelings could be hurt that easily.
She got onto the plane as well and saw him standing in the aisle, leaning his hip against one of the seats. "You can choose any seat you'd like."
Liz chose two seats that were right next to each other and settled into the one at the window. She watched as Red made his way to the opposite side of the plane and then turned to look out of the little window. "Aren't you going to sit next to me?"
She heard him turn around and knew then that he was looking at her. "If that's what you want."
"No," she replied. "If that's what you want."
Maybe she had surprised him with what she had said, because it had taken him a while to react, but then she felt the leather dip slightly as he sat next to her. She smiled to herself, sometimes she actually knew how to work him. Liz put her hand to his thigh and squeezed gently. "Thank you for taking me."
His large hand covered hers and he squeezed back. "You're most welcome, sweetheart. I hope you'll enjoy Reykjavik."
"I'm sure I will." She turned to look at him and then smiled. "The company's great."
Red laughed at that. "You say that now. But just in case, there are no pens available on this plane."
"I brought my own." She grinned and he grinned back.
A couple of hours into the flight, Red was reading through the newspaper, when he felt Liz sag against him. He turned his head to look at her and saw that her eyes were closed. "Lizzie?" He called out softly. Nothing. "Lizzie." This time her head dropped to his shoulder. A smile came to his lips and he carefully extracted his trapped arm, shushing her gently when she started mumbling incoherently at the disturbance. "It's alright, sweetheart, just sleep." He placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his chest, so she could rest without having a stiff neck later on. When he heard her little mewl at the comfortable position, he couldn't resist burying his nose in her soft hair. He fell asleep soon after that.
