If you like it and want to hear more, leave me a review and I'll write! Seriously, reviews are LOVE. PLEASE leave me one if you had any sort of satisfaction with this at all. This one-shot was inspired by the body language when they work their cases- especially the action scenes.
She has a place where she belongs.
It's easy to miss, what with the hotel rooms and the aliases and the constant, nagging sense of paranoia and suspicion. Her nomadic lifestyle hasn't exactly sat well with Reddington, or anybody else, but Liz doesn't care. Maybe she would if that was all she had- the small bathrooms and bland walls and a collection of photographs and news clippings that never give her any answers to stare at on her ceiling.
But it's not.
There is one place where she feels completely at home, in her own skin, comfortable and at ease. It's not so much as one place as a collection of places, but the feeling that accompanies all of them is the same, and there is one unifying factor.
Her place is in the passenger seat of a semi-bullet proof Sudan, screeching down streets and back alleyways or just having 'sanity maintenance' talks during the drive between Dangerous Point A to Very Dangerous Point B. Her place is standing in front of a collection of massive glass walls, animatedly debating and puzzling over photos and pieces of evidence that aren't her own, for a change.
Her place is beside and a little behind, in the protection of a broad shoulder but not in his shadow. Close enough to be equal and close enough to be sheltered. Her place is that place, moving in sync as they prowl down dark hallways and race through crowded streets, bullets popping over their heads and shattering glass clinking at their feet and the sting of cuts on knuckles and blood trickling across their hands. Her place is there, where she feels both protected and dangerous, lethal in her own right and safe from whatever would harm her because he will stop it before it can reach her. He always does. Her place is tucked closely behind him as he takes point and she watches his six, where no words are needed and everything is communicated with instinct and looks that are easier to read than they should be. It isn't a place she has to find or think about because it's already so natural for her to be there. It's so easy slip into. It isn't really a safe place, and it isn't warm and cozy, but it's where she does the most good. It's where she feels less like a lie and more like Elizabeth Keen again. It's where she's brought the most bad guys in and has made the world a better place, where she learned how to make judgement calls and hold her own in a fight.
It's the only place that is her place, and it's the only place that feels like home.