London was a huge city, filled with millions of people. But as soon as Samar stepped out of the cab from the London Heathrow airport, she felt closer to Liz, more hopeful than she'd been since Liz had disappeared. She was standing in the same city as the woman she loved. Liz was here somewhere. She could be anywhere within London's many twisting streets, but at least Samar knew she was here. And that was better than being stuck in DC, stuck at work, knowing Liz could be absolutely anywhere in the world.
Samar slung the duffel bag over her shoulder. It was nearing nine a.m. London time, and the morning was chilly and wet, a mist of fog hovering above the city. She hadn't been able to sleep a wink on the flight, so she had spent the hours combing through her mind. She had asked the flight attendant to borrow a pen, scribbling intricate webs of seemingly relevant words down on airline napkins. She had started with her knowledge of Liz, but quickly decided that Reddington was an easier access point since his empire was global; he no doubt had connections in, and a familiarity with, London. She focused in on interactions she'd had with Reddington, things he may have mentioned in passing, information she had gained on him during her Mossad investigation.
One thing she'd kept coming back to was his insatiable sweet tooth. Every time her mind landed on Reddington and dessert, something tickled at the back corners of her memory. Liz had mentioned his obsession with her trying the baklava when they were in Uzbekistan. And Samar remembered him dropping by that pastry shop in Warsaw, where the baker doubled as an arms dealer. There was the time Reddington brought an ice cream cone into the Post Office, making Ressler's eyes roll dangerously far back in his head. And she remembered sitting next to him in the backseat of an SUV as he reminded Dembe that they needed to stop at the store that evening for his favorite chocolate.
And finally, approximately five hours after the plane took off from Washington, DC, the tickle in the back of her mind had managed to form the memory she'd been unknowingly searching for. A random conversation she'd overheard between Reddington and Aram one day at the Post Office as they bonded over their love of sweets. Aram told Reddington about his favorite cupcake shop in DC, and Reddington of course responded by telling Aram all about his favorite dessert shop. He had gone on and on about the scones, the eclairs, the croissants, but especially the raspberry tarts, at a little hole-in-the-wall bakery in the Fitzrovia neighborhood of London.
When the memory came to her, Samar was flooded with relief. She had closed her eyes and thanked Allah or whoever was listening for her incredible memory. But despite her capacity for remembering miniscule, insignificant details, she couldn't for the life of her remember the name of the bakery. She had wracked her brain for the remainder of the flight, but it seemed that she had dragged from the depths of her memory all she was going to get.
She had left her phone and laptop in the States to keep from being an easy trace, which meant that she needed to find some kind of device with internet access to borrow for a few minutes. She'd had the cab drop her off at the Apple store closest to Fitzrovia, which happened to be nearby on Regent Street. Customers were always doing random searches while testing Apple products in the stores, so there would be nothing to make her stand out, to make her memorable if someone ended up in London looking for her. Her searches would be quickly buried by later customers, and they would be on one device out of the hundreds in the store.
Now she was here, ready to put her plan into action. The street was busy, but the store didn't open for another ten minutes. Though her mind was wired, her body was slightly exhausted from lack of sleep (it was, after all, only four a.m. Washington time), so she wandered down the street until she found a Starbucks. She had enough cash to get by for a while – she'd gone to an ATM before she left Washington and exchanged it for local currency when she'd landed in London.
Samar ordered a grande cinnamon latte, and tucked herself into a corner table. She closed her eyes, taking a slow sip of the warm liquid, allowing it to warm her tired, chilled body. She gave herself seven minutes to mentally prepare herself for the day or days ahead, then headed back out into the fog.
She reached the Apple store a few minutes after it opened, but thankfully wasn't the only customer in the store. She wandered around, pretending to be interested in the products, before settling in to "test" the newest iPhone, one of many on display. She opened the maps app and zoomed in on her current location.
She typed 'bakery' into the search bar. Fitzrovia was a small neighborhood, but there were still plenty of results to look through. She tapped the dots one by one, until a name stood out to her: Bonnie's Bakeshop. She pulled up more information. The image certainly looked like a hole-in-the-wall, it was in the right neighborhood, and the name was frantically ringing bells in her head. Her heart started beating faster. She trusted her memory – she knew it was the right bakery. Now she just had to get there and wait and hope Reddington showed up for one of those raspberry tarts he apparently loved so much.
It didn't look like it was very far away, but she tapped for directions from her current location and studied the route for a few minutes. She had an excellent sense of direction, but she wanted to make sure she had the location firmly in mind. She noted the cross streets, made sure she knew which directions to turn and where, then quickly cleared her search and closed out of the maps app entirely, swiping it up with her thumb so the next person to use the phone would see a fresh slate. She wandered around the store some more so as not to arouse suspicion, stopping by the rack of phone cases and admiring a few before meandering back out of the store as if she simply hadn't seen anything she wanted to buy.
She was so anxious to get to the bakery that her heart was pounding in her chest – she could practically feel it in her ears. She took deep breaths as she walked, reminding herself over and over that this wasn't a sure thing. This was a long shot.
But at least it was a shot.
With her long stride, Samar made it to the bakery in less than ten minutes. As the dark blue awning came into view, she couldn't help but smile. She bit her lip, walking faster. She peeked inside, then glanced at the faces around her on the street. No Reddington.
She crossed the street and sat down on the sidewalk, leaning against an old brick building. She had the perfect view of the bakery's comings and goings from here. She sat for an hour, anxiously looking around her and watching the bakery with an eagle's eye, before she got bored. Suddenly she was glad she'd brought her book with her to London. She pulled it out of her duffel bag, making sure Liz's note was carefully tucked inside with no chance of it falling out or blowing away, then began to read. She was distracted from the words in front of her, looking up nearly every thirty seconds, but at least it gave her something to do to pass the time while she waited.
By noon, she absolutely couldn't stand the hunger pangs biting at her stomach, so she hesitantly went inside the bakery, ridiculously afraid that Reddington would somehow find out she were here and stay away. She bought a raspberry tart to see what all the fuss was about, along with two miniature scones and a cup of coffee to keep her awake and alert for the rest of the day.
The bakery was small, with only two tables, one by each window on either side of the door. She sat down facing the entrance, keeping her eyes peeled as she enjoyed her pastries. Reddington was right – this place was incredible. Knowing his sweet tooth – and Samar knew that she did by now – there was absolutely no way he would be able to stay away from this raspberry tart if he were in London.
She stayed inside Bonnie's for as long as possible to avoid the chill outside, but eventually returned to her post across the street. The bakery closed at four p.m. and Samar could feel herself deflating. It's only been a day, she chided herself, before crossing the street to check the next day's hours. Eight a.m. to four p.m. She'd be back bright and early.
TBLTBLTBLTBLTBL
After a huge meal (as delicious as those pastries were, they weren't a meal, and she hadn't eaten since a small lunch back in the States), a night spent tossing and turning in a lumpy hostel bed (she was trying to save money since she only had so much cash before she would run out), and breakfast at a café nearby, Samar found herself outside Bonnie's Bakeshop again at 7:30 in the morning.
She sat down in the same spot as the day before, pulling her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and resting her chin on her knees with a sigh. She closed her eyes for a moment before reaching into her duffel bag for the book to pass the time, at least until the bakery opened. She glanced up every now and then, but assumed there was no need to be hyper-vigilant until eight o'clock.
Twenty-five minutes later, as she sat looking down at the book in her lap, a familiar voice snapped her back to reality.
"Agent Navabi, I see you've found me once again."
Shock and disbelief shot through her as her eyes instantly flew up to find Reddington standing over her, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. She stared at him, having trouble forming words.
"Are you here on official FBI business? Hunting us down? Planning to arrest us?" His tone was playful, accompanied by a slight smirk.
She glanced around at his usage of the word "us." Was Liz here? Was she nearby?
Samar looked back up at him, scurrying to her feet, making sure to carefully tuck the book with its lobster note safely inside her bag before frantically shaking her head. "No, not official business. I'm here on my own."
Reddington nodded, his grin widening, eyes twinkling. "I assumed as much." He turned toward the bakery, gesturing for her to follow. "Let me treat you to the most splendid raspberry tart you'll ever eat. I'm quite impressed that you remembered me mentioning this bakery to Agent Mojtabai."
She was frozen in place for a second, trying to get past the initial surprise that her plan had worked, that Reddington had actually shown up – and on her second day in London, no less. But she quickly regained her senses and cleared her throat, following him across the street. "I tried one of the tarts yesterday. I understand why you raved about them."
Reddington pushed open the bakery door, the bells chiming as they entered. "Well then, try anything you'd like, my dear."
She ordered a raspberry tart anyway since the one she'd had the day before had been so delicious. The clerk behind the counter handed it to her in a brown paper bag as Reddington paid for their pastries.
Samar was barely able to hold back the question on the tip of her tongue. But luckily, as soon as they stepped foot on the sidewalk outside, he got right to the point. "You're here for Lizzie. To see her, not to take her into FBI custody." A statement, not a question.
She nodded nervously. "Ressler and the FBI don't know that I'm here, Reddington, I swear. I have no plans to go back."
He tilted his head and smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. "She's missed you a great deal."
Samar could feel tears burning at the edges of her eyes, but she blinked them back, returning his smile.
"No phones? Have you been careful?" he asked, needing to make sure even though he trusted her intelligence.
"I have nothing but my wallet and passport. And I've only been using cash," she assured him quickly.
"I trust you, Samar. Come with me. Lizzie is nearby."
She couldn't believe this was happening. Lizzie was nearby. Liz would be in her arms soon.
Samar followed him, twisting down various streets as they walked north, finally turning onto a more residential street filled with old, but well-kept, rowhouses. Reddington turned into a house about halfway down the block, latching the gate behind them, and she felt nearly numb with anticipation.
He unlocked the door and she crossed the threshold, freezing in place, knowing Liz was here. He walked further down the hall toward what seemed to be a kitchen. "Lizzie, you'll never guess who I ran into at the bakery."
And then Samar heard Liz's voice for the first time in months. "Who?" She sounded confused, slightly uneasy.
Suddenly Samar's feet came unfrozen from their place just inside the front door and she walked down the hallway stretching out in front of her. And then Liz was there, right in front of her, sipping at a mug of morning coffee, dressed in her customary sleeping attire, a sweatshirt over her tank top to keep out the chill, her feet covered in fuzzy slippers. Her hair was a little longer, dyed a shade of dirty blonde, falling in waves over her shoulders. Liz was blonde, but Samar barely noticed. Her hair could have been purple and she wouldn't have cared. All she could see was her beautiful Liz, standing a mere fifteen feet away.
Liz glanced over, noticing movement at the doorway behind Red. She did a double take, her eyes widening in shock, and she swallowed the lump of emotion forming in her throat. Her mind was racing, trying to catch up with reality.
Samar could see Liz's eyes shining with tears already, and she could feel her own beginning to weigh down her lashes. She dropped her duffel bag to the floor and managed to quirk her lips up into a wobbly smile. When she opened her mouth, only a raw whisper escaped. "Hey."
Without warning, Liz dropped her mug of coffee into the sink, letting it clatter against the metal, lunging around the counter and dashing towards Samar. She threw herself onto her tiptoes, flinging her arms around Samar's neck. Samar staggered back with the force of the impact, winding her arms tightly around Liz's waist and burying her face in Liz's hair, finally allowing her tears to fall freely.
"You're here. I can't believe you're here," Liz murmured in Samar's ear, her voice shaking with emotion. She released her hold from around Samar's neck and stepped down from her tiptoes, running her hands across Samar's shoulders and down her sides to her hips before leaning in to kiss her.
When they broke apart at the sound of Red clearing his throat, Liz blushed but smiled, brushing her thumbs across Samar's cheekbones to wipe the tears away. Samar glanced in Reddington's direction, but he was making his way out of the room to give them privacy. Her gaze returned to Liz and she leaned forward, closing her eyes for a moment as she rested her forehead against Liz's. "Missing you, Elizabeth-" Samar paused, her breath catching in her throat. "Missing you has been unbearable." She opened her eyes, staring into Liz's shimmering blue ones. The ones she'd longed to see for months – months spent wishing this whole situation was just a bad dream and that she would wake up and find those bright blue eyes next to her in bed.
"I've missed you so much, Samar. Every single day," Liz whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. "How are you here? How did you find Red?"
"Your Netflix clues. I was out the door and on a flight to London within an hour. And I remembered Reddington mentioning his favorite bakery here, so I found it and I waited for him to show up. He has an absurdly predictable sweet tooth."
Liz shook her head in disbelief, smiling. "I didn't expect you to drop everything and come looking for me in this huge city. I just wanted you to know where I was, and that I was safe."
"London city limits, I could work with. Much easier than the entire globe," Samar smirked, but then her expression became serious again. She cupped Liz's cheeks in her hands. "Listen to me, Liz. Those first few days, I was lost. Numb. And then you called me, and I knew. I knew what to do. I have spent every day of the last three months trying to get to you."
Liz's brow creased as she brushed her thumb back and forth against Samar's side underneath her jacket.
Samar took a deep, shaking breath before continuing. "'I would've left with you in a heartbeat.' Do you remember saying that to me? On our first date?" She smiled softly, stroking Liz's cheek with her thumb.
Liz nodded, smiling through her tears. "Of course I remember," she whispered.
"That's why I'm here, Liz. I'm not going back to the task force. I'm not going back to Washington. I'm not going back to my life. You are my life. Leila didn't leave with me all those years ago because she was afraid of change, afraid of the consequences. I'm not afraid, Liz. I don't care about any of those things. I care about you and only you. I'm leaving with you, Liz, wherever you go. It's you and me, no matter what. You and me, okay?" Samar's voice was thick with unshed tears, her conviction evident in every word.
Liz bit her bottom lip, at a loss for words, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.
After a few too many moments of silence, Samar spoke again, her voice unusually quiet, shaking with nerves. "Please say something."
Liz knew that Samar was uncomfortable with this kind of vulnerability, that she was terrified of having her heart broken again, especially after months of being apart and not knowing when or if they would see each other again. Liz quickly found Samar's lips with her own, trying to communicate with her kiss what she couldn't put into words.
She buried her face in Samar's neck, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist, pulling her as close as she possibly could. "I don't know what to say, Samar. Other than I love you. I love you so much. It's actually unbelievable how much I love you." She pulled back, looking up into Samar's wet eyes, noticing her blotchy cheeks. "I didn't think I could ever truly trust someone…love someone…ever again. But you healed me. My heart was in shreds and you nursed it back to health." She smiled brightly. "Thank you for leaving with me," she whispered.
Samar leaned down, brushing her lips slowly, softly across every inch of Liz's face, finally reaching her lips. "I love you, Elizabeth," she whispered against her. "More than anything. More than I've ever loved anyone. You healed me too." She pulled back so she could take in every pore on Liz's beautiful face, running her fingers through her blonde waves. "You're my lobster," Samar murmured with a grin.
Liz laughed happily through her tears, placing her lips against the crook of Samar's neck, letting them linger there.
"I couldn't watch Friends without you, you know," Samar breathed into Liz's hair.
"I noticed. When I logged on to leave you those clues. It kinda broke my heart," Liz replied, mumbling against Samar's skin.
"That was ingenious, by the way. Only you would leave clues via our favorite television show," Samar chuckled, her soft exhale tickling Liz's ear.
Samar disentangled herself from the embrace and knelt down, unzipping the duffel bag lying forgotten near her feet. She found the book and slipped the note from between its pages, then stood, holding the piece of paper up so Liz could see it. "I couldn't leave it behind." Samar smiled sheepishly.
Liz reached out for Samar's free hand, twining their fingers together. "I adore you, my sweet, strong little lobster." Liz's smile lit up her face as she spoke, making her dimples stand out.
That particular smile, the one that made Liz glow, never failed to make Samar go weak in the knees. She put the note back inside the book, and turned her full attention to Liz, pulling her flush against her body. She trailed her hands down Liz's back, moving them underneath her shirt until they were splayed across Liz's warm skin. She let one hand drift down until her fingers were partially tucked beneath the waistband of Liz's sleep pants. "So, blonde, huh?" Samar smirked. "I've always been more attracted to women with dark hair, but…." She trailed off, kissing just below Liz's ear and nipping at it lightly. "Mmmmm, you are definitely pulling it off," she whispered, her breath hot on Liz's ear.
"Am I?" Liz breathed out teasingly.
"Without a doubt," Samar murmured, before trailing her lips and tongue from Liz's ear along her jawline. Liz tilted her chin up to give Samar more access as she kissed her way down her neck to her collarbone.
As Samar let her mouth wander, she slipped her hand lower beneath the waistband of Liz's pants and moved her other hand up Liz's back, sliding it beneath her bra strap, reaching for the clasp. She paused nervously. "Do you want to?" she mumbled against Liz's skin.
Liz's heart swelled. Samar was still so careful with her, never wanting to break the trust that had been built between them. "Yes," she whispered, pressing her lips to the curls falling against Samar's forehead. "Yes, Samar."
Liz grabbed Samar's hand and pulled her toward the stairs in the front hallway. She ducked her head around the corner quickly, noting that the door to Red's study was closed, which meant he was inside busying himself with something or other to give her time alone with Samar. She turned back, grinning. "Come on, we've got upstairs to ourselves." She hurried up the stairs, pulling Samar along behind her.
At the top, Liz dragged Samar down the hallway to the back of the house, flinging open the last door on the left. She pulled Samar inside and tossed the door shut behind them, turning back to Samar once they were safely tucked in her bedroom. "God, I've missed you," Liz murmured, her chest aching with anticipation. She stepped closer, sliding her hands underneath Samar's shirt and quickly pulling it over her head. Samar's skin was like a magnet, drawing Liz in. Her lips pressed hungrily to Samar's collarbone, moving down between her breasts, as her fingers deftly released the clasp at Samar's back. She backed away just enough to pull Samar's bra off and down her arms, dropping it on the floor.
Before Samar had time to think, Liz's burning lips were back on her skin, leaving fiery trails in their wake. Samar's lips parted and her head fell back as Liz's mouth closed over her breast, her tongue and teeth teasing the nipple. Liz refocused her attention to Samar's other breast, back and forth, until both nipples were pebbles beneath her tongue. She moved back up to kiss Samar's lips, biting down softly and running her tongue along the bottom lip. She pushed Samar backward gently until the backs of her legs hit the bed.
Samar sat down, pushing up at the bottom of Liz's sweatshirt. Liz took the hint and pulled it off along with her tank top, throwing them behind her, her eyes focused on Samar's. She dove forward, capturing Samar's lips with her own and pushing her down onto the bed. Liz's lips trailed down her neck again and Samar scooted backwards onto the bed until her curls were spread underneath her on a white pillowcase.
Samar reached around Liz's back, fumbling with her bra clasp until it came loose. Liz straddled Samar's stomach, freeing her arms of her bra and tossing it away. Samar ran her hands up Liz's sides, pulling her down until they were chest to chest.
Liz hovered just above Samar's lips, gazing into her eyes. "I love you," Liz whispered, before kissing Samar softly, gently, then more deeply. They explored slowly, relearning how the other liked to be kissed, to be touched.
After a few minutes, Liz began moving down Samar's body, leaving open-mouthed kisses in a line between her breasts. Her fingers skimmed across the rough skin marking the bullet wound on Samar's abdomen and she paused her descent.
Liz looked up into Samar's eyes for a moment and then pressed her lips reverently to the ragged scar. She brushed her thumb against Samar's side before kissing the scar once more. Samar could feel Liz's warm breath against the damaged skin. A wave of heat rushed through her body at the loving gesture.
Liz continued kissing down Samar's stomach until she reached the top of her jeans. She quickly undid the button, unzipped them, and began to tug them down over Samar's hips. Samar shimmied out of them as Liz pulled the jeans to her feet. Samar kicked the final leg free, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the look of desire burning in Liz's eyes.
Liz hitched her thumbs under the elastic of Samar's underwear, slowly, tenderly pulling them down until Samar was fully bared in front of her. Suddenly Liz needed to feel all of her, to be pressed skin to skin against the woman she loved. She sat back, stripping herself of her own pants and underwear, no longer caring about moving slowly and drawing it out.
She scurried back up Samar's body, wrapping her arms around her, burying her face in Samar's shoulder, overwhelmed. "I just need to feel you for a minute. I need to hold you," Liz murmured softly. Samar kissed the spot above Liz's ear and spread her hands across Liz's upper back, running her fingers up and down her spine. "I just can't believe you're here," Liz whispered.
Samar could feel hot tears against the skin of her shoulder. "I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere. I love you, Elizabeth," she whispered, tightening her arms around Liz's waist.
"I was so scared I'd never see you again," Liz cried, turning her face into Samar's neck, her body trembling.
"I was too. But I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't lose you," Samar replied, rolling onto her side. Liz removed her face from Samar's neck, meeting her gaze, and Samar placed a soft kiss on the tip of Liz's nose, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "I'm here," Samar repeated, a reminder neither of them could get enough of hearing.
Liz pulled Samar's face to hers, kissing her deeply, reigniting the flame that her tears had momentarily dampened. Her fingers trailed lightly down Samar's side to her hip, and her lips moved to Samar's neck, nipping and sucking at her pulse point.
Liz began to disentangle herself, moving down Samar's chest, but Samar placed her hand on Liz's cheek to get her attention, shaking her head, her breathing already ragged. "I'd rather be close to you," she breathed out.
Liz understood and nodded, moving back up until her forehead was against Samar's. "Show me what you want," she whispered.
Samar smiled, kissing Liz softly as she nudged her knee in-between Liz's legs and trailed her hand lightly down Liz's stomach, stopping just above the familiar trimmed patch of dark curls. Liz instinctively brought her leg up higher to hook around Samar's hip. As Samar brushed her finger lightly across her folds, Liz inhaled sharply, tightening her grip on Samar's waist.
Samar's fingers went to work, slipping easily into Liz. She was gentle. She was always gentle, so careful at first, and it warmed Liz's heart. Samar brushed her thumb over Liz's clit, light as a feather, but the touch was enough to make Liz cry out, biting her lip.
Liz slowly moved her hand from Samar's waist to her core. She dipped one finger in, then two, until she was stroking Samar's inner walls delicately, gently circling Samar's clit between strokes.
Samar threw her head back with a gasp. She continued her efforts on Liz, occasionally brushing her clit in just the way Liz liked best. She leaned in to press her lips to Liz's, their tongues dancing together slowly, softly. As Samar moved her thumb over Liz's clit once more, Liz whimpered into her mouth, sending a wave of fire through Samar's body.
Liz took advantage of Samar's fresh arousal by slipping in a third finger, pushing even deeper. Samar cried out in Farsi, which Liz knew from experience meant she was really enjoying herself.
Their hips managed to establish a rhythm on each other's fingers, and within a few minutes, they were both breathing hard, their bodies quivering against each other. Liz's cries of pleasure became louder and she buried her face in Samar's shoulder to muffle the sound.
With one final brush over her clit, Liz felt herself teetering on the edge. She fought to stay with it enough so that she could increase her efforts on Samar, until Liz could sense Samar's familiar hitching breaths and feel her walls tensing around her fingers. "You with me?" Liz managed to ask between breathless gasps.
"Yes," Samar panted, leaning her forehead against Liz's.
And within seconds, they came apart in each other's arms, falling over the edge together, staring into each other's eyes as they shuddered through their orgasms, gasping, whimpering
As they relaxed, melting into each other, Liz pulled her fingers from Samar's core, wiping the sticky remnants onto her sheets – it was still morning, she could put fresh sheets on the bed later. She wrapped her arm around Samar, her hand resting lightly on Samar's lower back. She stroked her thumb back and forth softly, placing a soft kiss at the corner of Samar's mouth. She let her leg slide down from its place on Samar's hip as she felt Samar's fingers slide out of her.
As Liz regained her breath, she moved her hand up to stroke Samar's hair away from her sweaty forehead, tucking it behind her ear. "You're so beautiful," Liz murmured.
"I could say the same about you," Samar murmured in reply, running her fingers up and down Liz's side. Liz blushed before pressing her lips to Samar's in a soft kiss. "I love you," Samar whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her forehead to Liz's, their noses nuzzling together.
Samar couldn't get enough of saying those words out loud after months of numbness and loneliness. Months of being afraid that she'd never see Liz again, that she'd lost her forever. "I love you so much," Samar repeated softly.
