Me again! I know I have two other fics on the go for Blacklist but I just couldn't help myself! I'm finding it really hard to stick with one and keep going and sometimes I just need a break :D Anyway; read, enjoy and review! I love hearing how you guys feel about my fics and getting reviews really does help me keep the momentum going!
The first time she passed out from exhaustion on his couch happened the first time she had ever visited him at his apartment. Their partnership hadn't called for them participating in home visits yet on that very night he found himself face to face at his own front door with his partner, who had tears threatening to fall.
"I didn't know where else to go."
He let her in without a second thought, stepping to the side so she could pass over the threshold and in to his personal space. She waited for him to close the door and lead her through the apartment; not wanting for it to seen like she was intruding anymore than she already was. Once he had her seated on the couch in the living room, he disappeared but returned not a minute later with two cold bottle of beer, one of which he pressed in her hand. She gave him a questioning look.
"Looked like you could do with one."
She sighed and gave him a small nod. "I guess you're right." She raised the bottle to her lips then downed almost all the icy liquid.
"Jeez, Keen, slow down. Talk to me."
And she did. She told him everything. Went in to full detail about the reasoning of Tom's existence in her life and that Reddington had killed her father to keep him from telling her something important. Told him about the surveillance cameras tat were set up in her house and about all she had uncovered about the mysterious 'Berlin'. She cried untold amounts of tears and leaned on him for support and comfort like she had in the aftermath of being held captive by The Stewmaker.
He kept his arm around her shoulders, securing her to his side. "Stay here tonight, have my room. I don't want you going back there, especially not alone. I'll go with you tomorrow, call it in and stay while the Crime Scene Techs go over everything."
"Thanks, Ressler." She nodded against him then extracted herself from his grip. They were silent for a few minutes before he spoke again.
"You want and chamomile tea or something? It's supposed to help you relax."
She raised an eyebrow to him. "Never took you as a tea drinker."
He gave her a single laugh. "I'm not. It was in a gift basket my mom got me when I was recovering from being shot. Apparently I was 'very edgy' and needed help to stay relaxed."
"Now that I can believe. Did it work?" He shook his head.
"No, because when she wasn't looking I poured the stuff in the potted plant she'd also bought me. Can't stand the stuff."
"I never minded the taste. Sure, I'll have one." She gave him a small smile of thanks.
He nodded and left her sitting on the couch and headed to the kitchen. He filled the kettle and switched it on to boil before he pulled a mug from the cupboard and placed a teabag in the bottom. He poured the scalding water on top of the bag and turned his nose up at the murky contents of the mug. He let it brew for a few minutes (having read on the box that it was best) before taking the weird smelling mug to the living room. He stopped dead in the doorway at the sight of his partner.
She was laying full length, shoeless and fast asleep on his couch. She had her left cheek pressed against a cushion, one hand rested on her stomach and the other by her side. He noticed as she stepped closer to her that she was snoring lightly, which caused him to smile. He guessed that she'd worn herself out, which wasn't all that surprising given the amount she'd cried in the past two hours.
"So much for taking my room."
He placed the mug on the coffee table, walked over to the corner and grabbed the knitted, woollen blanket he kept thrown over the recliner there. Silently, he carefully draped the blanket over his sleeping partner and creeped out the room, turning the light off on his way to the bathroom. Ressler stood watching his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, his mind wondering to the woman asleep on his couch. He had witnessed her life slowly crumble over the last how ever many months they'd been working together, and now he knew why.
He finished up, went to his bedroom, changed in to a pair of pyjama pants and settled himself in bed for the night, knowing full well that he was in for a restless nights sleep.
It wasn't until they were in their respective cars with him following her to her house that he realised that, that morning, was the best rested she'd seemed since the day he had met her when Reddington first handed himself in.