This story was inspired by Ghost by Ella Henderson. Gorgeous song.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the title, only the story and any and all mistakes.
Donald Ressler looked over at Elizabeth Keen. She was bent over the table, frowning down at the mess of papers and photos that were spread out. Meera Malik was speaking rapidly into her phone, and she was pacing up and down the length of the room. It had been almost thirty-six hours, and they hadn't seen daylight since their raid this morning of an abandoned warehouse where they had found the mess of four bodies, all surgically opened with their organs removed.
And now they were stuck back here, down in the basement of their FBI office, trying to figure out the next move. They had been chasing the man who had been running an organ donor service on the black market for almost two months now, and they had thought they had good intel when they had executed the search warrant that morning. Well, technically they did have good intel, but it was just a little bit too late.
"Fuck!" Liz let out a frustrated growl, smacking her hands down on the palms of the table. Don looked over at her, not surprised by her outburst, and reached over to overlap two of her fingers with hers. Liz didn't move her hand away, but her body was still humming with tension.
"Okay!" Harold Cooper shouted out, and Liz and Don quickly pulled their hands apart. "Listen, we all need a break. I want everyone to go home, and we'll meet back here at seven sharp!" Meera finished up her conversation and then shoved her phone into her back pocket.
"I've spoken with a couple of contacts I have in air control," she told them. "If they spot anyone who even remotely looks like The Doctor, then they'll stop him and get in contact with us straight away." Liz nodded and Don reached for the list of airports within a two hour drive from the warehouse that Aram Mojtabai had gathered for them, including any private airstrips.
"Hey!" Cooper said, more sharply this time. His agents all stopped and looked up at him. "Go home," he repeated. Liz and Don sighed, while Meera pursed her lips and glanced over at the pair. "Now."
"Yes, sir," Don muttered and nodded over at Liz and Meera. Neither of the woman looked happy, packing up their things and headed to their desks to grab their bags. Meera came out of her office first, and Don raised his eyebrows as he waited for Liz. It took another minute or so, but then she came out, her bag over her shoulder and glaring down at her phone. "You good?" He asked his partner as she walked past.
"I'm fine," she said off handedly, not bothering to look up from her phone as she headed toward the elevator. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Night," Don nodded at her.
Liz sighed as she stepped into the shower, tilting her head back to look up at the ceiling of her bathroom as she warm water spilled over her. She wasn't tired, even though she knew she should be. Caffeine was like her drug and the cases were her fire, forcing her forward. Aram kept telling her that she was going to burn herself out, but Liz just shot back that Don and Meera seemed to be doing just fine, and they pushed themselves just as hard as she did, maybe even harder. Aram said comparing them to herself was not a good example, but she had just given him a small smile and a kiss on the cheek, thanking him for his concern.
This job was pretty much all she had left now.
Her father had passed away, only a few months into her new job at the FBI, and her relationship had been screwed since she had walked in on her husband, his face buried in the cunt of Jolene Parker. The red head was spread out on the kitchen table that she had picked out, her shoulders thrown over Tom Keens shoulders as he sunk his tongue deep into her.
After an angry fight, which she had almost resorted to using her gun in, he had admitted that there had been other woman, before they had moved out here.
It was over.
And ever since then, she had been throwing herself into her work.
She got out of the shower and found a towel. Liz rubbed at her hair first, until it was towel-dried, and then wrapped the thick flannel around her torso after drying herself down. She walked into her kitchen and poured herself a glass of red wine, leaning back against the bench and staring blankly ahead as she took a sip. It was almost two, and she should really be in bed, given she needed to be up in less than six hours and heading back to work.
But she wasn't tired.
Her brain couldn't switch off—it never really could.
There was a knock at her door and her eyes narrowed, putting down her glass of wine and reaching instinctively for the spare gun she kept hidden behind her block of knives. She pulled it out and walked silently across the wooden floor boards, looking through the peep hole before sighing and opening the door.
"Ressler," she stated with a raise of her eyebrows.
"Keen," he replied flatly.
"Come on in," she said, turning around and walking back to her kitchen. He walked in and kicked off his shoes, and then snorted when he noted the loaded pistol in her hand. He followed her into the kitchen and didn't hide the fact he was checking her out as he leaned against the oven, opposite where she was resting, wine glass back in her hand. "You bring a change of clothes?"
"We gotta be in by seven," Don answered. "Of course I brought a change of clothes."
"That's good," Liz nodded. She swallowed back the rest of wine and put down the glass. Her fingers went to the knot that was holding her towel up around her chest and it pooled at the ground around her feet. Don's eyes flared, and then he was stepping inside her personal bubble and his lips were on hers.
It was rough, but it was exactly what the pair of them wanted. Liz's fingers scrabbled at the buttons of the shirt he had been wearing for the past few days, pushing it over his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. Her nails scratched over the taunt muscles of his shoulders and his arms and he let out a hiss as she circled them around and dug her fingers into his lower back. Don's own hands left her cheeks, which they had been cupping, and went to her thighs, pushing them further apart and pulling her closer to the edge of the bench.
"Fuck," Liz let out a squeak as two of his fingers pushed inside her wet heat. His thumb found her clit easily, teasing it relentless, his fingers making shallow thrusts until she came for the first time. While she was breathing heavily and recovering, he undone his belt and the zipper of his pants, pushing them down over his hips. Then he circled an arm around her waist and pushed himself inside of her.
"Shit, Liz..." Don sighed, taking a moment to adjust to her cunt tightening around him. She narrowed her eyes, one of her hands going around to grip at the nape of his neck, giving her something to hold onto to start moving with him. Their hips collided, skin slapping together, and Don's grunts becoming louder as Liz reached down with her free hand and gripped his ass, pulling him harder against her. He came first, but he continued to push his cock inside her and pinch her nipple until she was coming again. She leaned her forehead against the curve of his shoulder, and his hand left her breast, moving down to her thigh.
Sex was easy, but afterwards were hard.
When his fingers started tracing patterns on her back, when her body was still humming with sensitivity from sex. It lulled her into this feeling that there was something more going on here, and she knew there wasn't.
This was sex.
This was fucking.
They were both a little screwed up, and they didn't have time for anything apart from work, so this was their way of coping.
It took another two weeks to catch The Doctor, and once they did, the team was burnt out. Cooper told them to take some time, which Liz was glad for, because it had been a while since she had gotten in a good work out at the gym. She slept for about five hours the first night, went for a run, made herself breakfast, cleaned her apartment, went to the gym. She got home around twelve and then there was nothing.
She didn't have time off.
She contemplated calling Meera, but she didn't do girly chats.
She thought about calling Don, but she didn't want sex and she wasn't ready to tell him that she just wanted to talk to him.
She wanted work.
It was only ten minutes later when her phone rang, Cooper saying he was sorry about disrupting her on her day off, but they were needed inside. There was a threat to a visiting vice president, and there was a clock attached to the threat, of less than twenty-four hours. Liz told him it was fine, and she would be in within twenty minutes.
This was what she was good at now; this was her life.
And she liked it.
Over the next three months, things were busy. And things slowly evolved.
She got shot, and Don looked after her. Which meant that he treated her like everyone else while they were at work and out on the field, and then when they were at home, he ate her out until her thighs were shaking and her throat was scratchy from shouting out his name. He also helped change the dressing of her wound and made her dinner, so that her aching arm didn't need to do anything more once she was off duty. Don couldn't shake his reliance on oxy, and she looked after him. Which meant she convinced him to go and see a therapist, as any good partner would, and then she distracted him from the pain by riding him until he was seeing stars. And she slowly helped to wean him away from the drugs, helping him through the withdrawal symptoms.
They talked about almost everything, and there were some nights where they would just drink beer and watch trashy TV shows.
They didn't talk about what they were, but it was what it was.
If Cooper noticed that they came left around the same time in the evenings, he didn't say anything.
If Meera noticed the way their hands brushed against one anothers when they were standing in staff meetings, she didn't say anything.
When Amar recognized Liz's scarf as the one that was tucked under the drivers seat of Don's car, he asked why it was there. Don had just shrugged, and said she must have left it there a while ago. Amar had replied that it was the one Liz had been wearing yesterday and she had taken her own car home.
Don hadn't answered, and Amar's eyes went wide.
He didn't say anything else though.
Don could give an incredible death glare when the situation required it.
It carried on this way until Christmas. They weren't like everyone else, most of them didn't get time off at Christmas, to go and see their families. The criminals in the city didn't just stop; in fact things got crazier, most of the time. Which was good, because it distracted Liz from the fact that for the first time, she had no one to spend Christmas with. As a child, it was always her father. Even when she was away at school, and she went away to spend the holidays with her girl friends, she would always spend Christmas with Sam Scott, her adoptive father. And then, once she was living with Tom, they would spend it together, sometimes traveling out to spend it with Sam as well.
But not this Christmas.
This Christmas she didn't have anyone.
"Hey, Keen," Meera tapped her knuckles twice against the door to Liz's office.
"What's up?" Liz looked up from her desk and over to Meera.
"I'm just about to head out, Cooper's letting me head off early since you and Don are more than happy to work over night," she said.
"Early?" Liz raised an eyebrow as she looked over at the clock on her wall. "It's just after eight."
"My girls don't go to bed until nine, and the fact I get to be home before then means it's early," Meera grinned. "Plus, I get to be there on Christmas morning when they wake up and see their presents. Anyway, I just wanted to say, it's been good working with you this year."
"Oh right!" Liz remembered Meera mentioning that she had requested leave. As always, it was only a request, and if some bomb went off or a high priority got themselves kidnapped, she would need to get her ass back in here. Liz hoped for her friends sake that nothing happened between now and New Years Day when she was due back. "Right, you won't be back until next year. It's been good. Tell your girls Merry Christmas from me."
"I will," Meera gave her another quick smile before turning to the door. "Oh, yeah, Liz?" Liz raised an eyebrow. "This...This thing that you and Ressler have going on?" Liz pursed her lips and locked her jaw but Meera just shook her head. "I'm not going to judge you, and it's not like I'm going to tell Cooper—you're no where near as discreet as you might think you are. He's known for almost as long as me—"
"How long have you known?" Liz interrupted.
"Since I walked into the record room late one night and you were on your hands and knees with him behind you," Meera said wryly, and Liz knew that there was a faint pink blush to her cheeks. "Look, that's not the point. The point is, the thing that you and Don have going on. Despite what the two of you think, it's actually a good thing." Liz let out a laugh and Meera just shrugged. "No, really. I mean, it's not exactly the most healthy relationship in the world, but it works for you two. And if you give it a chance, you might actually be surprised and see that it takes you somewhere."
"I don't think I'm ready for a new relationship, Meera," Liz said with a huff, shuffling around the papers on her desk.
"That's ironic," Meera snorted. "Given, whether you like it or not, you've been in one for the past few months." Liz's eyes widened in surprise but Meera was already walking back out the door. "Merry Christmas Eve, Keen!" Liz stared at the empty doorway for a while after her friend had left, and then cleared her throat and looked back down at her work.
There were only a couple of agents left in The Post Office, probably only five or so. And they would all be the agents like her, with nothing to do, and no one to go home to. Who were so completely involved in their work that they had no time for social life. In a way, she was lucky. Most of them had to find ways to work off the sexual tension by themselves or with unfulfilling one nights stands. Maybe if they looked hard enough they would find someone that they could go back to two or three times, but never for long enough to learn each others bodies thoroughly enough to learn all their pleasure spots.
Not like her and Don.
"Keen," came a snap from her doorway and Liz's head jerked up. Don was standing there, his muscular frame filling the door. He had taken off his suit jacket, and was just wearing his suit pants that fitted so well his ass looked sinful when he turned around and a pale blue shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves. He was staring at her and she blinked when she realized that she hadn't answered him.
"Sorry, what was that?"
"I said, Merry Christmas," he repeated. Liz looked over at her clock, and realized that it was just after twelve.
"Oh," Liz blinked and shook her head. "Merry Christmas," her face relaxed into a smile.
"I, uh," Don actually looked a little nervous as he stepped further into her office. "I got you something." Liz felt her body tense, but she kept the smile plastered on her face as he hesitantly came over to her desk, scratching the back of his neck before finally putting down a small, wrapped gift in front of her. She swallowed hard before pulling the gift closer to her.
"I didn't get you anything," she tried to joke; brush off the fact that she felt like a fourteen year old getting her first Valentines gift.
"That's fine, uh," Don let out an awkward laugh. "It's nothing big or anything." She pulled at the corner of the bow and put it to the side, starting on the wrapping paper. "It's just something...Small," he was almost stuttering now, and Liz could barely bite back her smile at his nervousness. She opened up the plain box inside and then frowned when she saw the bottle inside.
"Perfume?" She asked with a tilt of her head.
"Yeah," Don nodded jerkily. "Moringa."
"My favourite," Liz ran her finger down the side of the bottle. "I..." she was trying to think of something that she could say that didn't address the fact that he knew what her favourite perfume was. "I've already got a bottle of this."
"But not at my place," he said after a moments hesitation. Liz's eyebrows shot up and she looked over at him. "I mean, usually we're at your place, and that's great, but when you're at mine, you use that stuff that you keep in your bag, but it's not your first choice. I can totally see it in your face when you spray it that it's not the one you want to use, but for some reason, you never have this one in your bag. So I figured if you just had a bottle at my place, then you could always use the one that you like—"
"It's perfect, Don," Liz murmured and he cut off his babbling. She got up from behind her desk and walked over to him. Everything was silent, and she was relatively certain that they were alone in the whole building now. She stared up at him, her long hair framing her face as she searched for something to say. In the end, she decided to raise herself up on her toes and kissed him. It was soft and sweet, something that had been happening a lot more recently between them, rather than the hard and rough that they had been at the start. Don's hands rested on her hips and pushed her backwards gently until she was pressed against her desk.
"I want this, Liz," Don breathed against her lips as his nose brushed against her cheek and he dipped his head so that it was resting at the curve of her neck. "I want you." For a long time, she didn't reply, and he pulled away to look at her. Her face was conflicted, and she had pulled her lower lip into her mouth as he stared at her. And then she nodded, and a dreamy half smile broke out across Don's lips. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Liz confirmed.
She was kidding herself if this was just about fucking for a distraction.
It was sleeping away the demons.
And it was working.
They were good for each other.
They gave each other hope.
"Yeah," Liz repeated, circling her legs around Don's waist and drawing him in tighter against her.
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