Another little snippet of my imagination because I'm taking a break from my other fics...
Sixteen hours. Sixteen fucking hours since Reddington had given them the case and they were no closer to catching a break than when they started. It was almost two in the morning; Keen was making them both a fresh coffee but Ressler sat haunched over his desk, head in his hands, fingers rubbing at his temples. Just his luck, World War three was starting in his head but he didn't dare take any form of pain reliever – he was still recovering from the addiction he had worked so hard to kick. He groaned in to his hands as the pounding in his head did nothing but get worse. Ressler wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep but he knew that he couldn't; an innocent childs life hung in the balance at the hands of their latest blacklister. Now was not time to let a headache get in the way.
He forced himself to stare back at his computer screen, only for his eyes to start hurting from the brightness a mere minute later. He closed them and breathed in deeply before jumping at the sound of his partners voice.
"Hey, you okay?"
When he swivelled round in his chair to look at her, she was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame holding a steaming white mug in each hand. "Jeez, Keen, you know it's rude to sneak up on people? I'm fine, just annoyed that we've been looking at this for hours and we're getting nowhere."
She gave him a nod of understanding before he turned back around. Liz continued to watch him as she sat down at her own desk; his head was now bowed slightly and he kept rubbing a hand over his forehead. He hadn't touched his drink since she'd given it to him and she noticed how he would shut his eyes every so often from the brightness of the computer screen. She sighed to herself, he wasn't fine.
"Look, why don't you go lay down for a little while. I don't mind using my desk lamp if you want the light off."
"What are you talking about, Keen? I'm fine." He didn't look up at her, keeping his eyes away from her glare.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "You've been sitting there for twenty minutes, grimacing every time you look at the screen. You haven't touched your coffee, favouring your now empty bottle of water and you keep pressing your fingers against your head. It doesn't take a genius to work out that you have a headache – and a pretty bad one at that."
He couldn't help but smirk – she knew him well. "Yes, I have a headache, but I'm dealing with it."
"How? Because I know you won't touch pain relievers and I don't blame you for that, but it'll only get worse if you don't do something."
His smirk disappeared. She was right but he didn't know what he was supposed to do; he couldn't lay down doing nothing when he should be doing every thing in his power to close this case. He would have to find a way of getting rid of it soon though, he pounding was becoming more and more painful as time went on.
"It's not that bad, I can deal with it." He forced himself to stare at the screen again.
"Argh, men!" Liz reached down to the bottom draw of her desk and pulled something out. Ressler couldn't see what it was, having made sure he kept his eyes averted from her. "Why can't you ever just admit defeat?"
She walked out the office before he could say anything else. She had a point, he thought, but would never admit it to her, ever. He could hear her footsteps returning a few minutes later and prayed that she wouldn't start on his again, he didn't think his head would take it.
She closed the door behind her when she re-entered the room and stood behind him. He couldn't help but feel a tad uneasy about why she had decided to stand behind him.
"Eh, Keen, what are you doing?"
She sighed. "Do you trust me, Ressler?"
"With my life." He replied instantly.
"Good. Lean forward." She ordered.
He still had his back to her but did as he was told. As soon as his back left the chair, he felt he slip something hot behind him and push it down until it was at the base of his spine.
"You can lean back now, hopefully it will help."
He could feel the heat rising up along his spine and in to his neck, slowly easing out any pain he had from sitting in his chair. It surprised him how the heat, that was nowhere near his head, was helping the main source of his pain.
"Ah, that feels... good. You keep a hot water bottle in your desk?" He was leaning back fully in his chair now, with his head draping over. He stared at her and she gave him a quick nod.
"Yeah, find it helps sometimes. Feeling any better?"
"Mm-hm. Still pretty bad though... and my eyes hurt." She gave him a awkward, nervous look. Ressler could tell she wanted to say something else but was holding back. "What is it, Keen?"
"I can try something else... but it's up to you. Something Sam used to do with me." She smiled at the memory of her adoptive father.
"If you think it would help, go for it." He closed his eyes again, focusing on the heat radiating up his back.
"Well, if you're sure."
He was so focused on the effect of the hot water bottle that he wasn't aware that Liz had moved her hands to hover over his head. She took a breath and moved her hands to his temples, adding pressure and slowly moving her fingers in small circles. He froze briefly at her touch, they may be partners, but their had be very little need for them to physically touch each other. She could sense his unease but continued to move her fingers, running them over the length of his forehead every so often then returning to his temples. He relaxed after a while, the effect of the slow massage making itself known and the thumping in his head was dulling.
"Sam used to do this to you, huh?" His voice was quite and she smiled at that.
"Yeah." He repeated to sequence of going over his forehead and behind his ears before going back to his temples. "When I was thirteen, I started to suffer from migraines. Medication helped, but not all the time. Sometimes I would be up in the middle of the night crying because of the pain. He would sit with me for hours doing this until I fell asleep and even stayed doing it sometimes so I could rest in peace. I don't get them much anymore but when I do, I always try to do it myself. Doesn't have the same effect but hey, makes me feel a little better."
Ressler sat there listening to his partner, he glanced up at her through squinted eyes; she was staring at the wall ahead, eyes a little glossed over as she thought about her father. She didn't often talk about his but when she did, they were always happy memories and her eyes would feel with tears. It had barely been a year since he died but he knew she still found it hard accepting that he was gone.
They stayed like this for another ten minutes. The hot water bottle was losing it's heat but he was surprised to find that his headache was almost completely gone. Another couple of minutes past and Liz moved her hands away and placed then lightly on his shoulders.
"Wow, Keen. You can do that more often." He gave her a grin of appreciation and she returned it with a smile of her own.
"You're welcome. I think you should still lay down for a bit though, this is why we paid for a couch in here. I'll wake you in half an hour or before if we get a lead, okay?"
He considered it for a second before realising he could do with a nap to refresh his brain.
"Fine, but remember to wake me." She nodded and he moved over to the couch they'd managed to squeeze in to their office. Cooper had told them there was no room in the budget for such an unnecessary piece of furniture, so they'd pooled their money together and bought the largest one their small office would allow, which wasn't that big but it did it's job. He rearranged the lone cushion under his head and Liz turned off the light, switching her desk lamp on instead. Ressler closed his eyes and was asleep within seconds.
He woke not long later, relieved that the pounding in his skull hadn't returned. He felt wide awake, and checking his watch, noted that he'd been asleep little over forty-five minutes. Looking over it his partner, he saw that she had passed out in her chair, arms on her desk, head resting on top of them. He gave out a small smile at the sight but didn't like the thought of her being uncomfortable and having a crick in her neck when she woke. She scooped her up bridal style and as soon as she was against his chest, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Thankfully she didn't wake up, it saved them both the embarrassment. Placing her on the couch, he covered her with his jacket and trotted out the room and down the corridor to make himself a fresh coffee. Once back, he settled himself in front of his computer again, this time with a fresh mind and began working on discovering a link to find the missing girl.
I use the technique with my partner when he's suffering from a cheese or stress induced headache, works pretty well apparently! Thanks for reading!