Disclaimer: I do not own The Blacklist of any of the characters recognisable from the show used in this work of fanfiction. I am making no profit from this work.
NO REST
DAY THREE
She woke with a splitting headache, face down on her couch. She groaned into the seat before carefully turning herself over, her arm slung across her eyes to block any and all light from her eyes.
"Welcome to the land of the living," Red's amused voice cut through her woe.
"Quiet or I'll shoot you," she grumbled, turning her head to look up at him blearily. "Be nice to me, I'm dying." She found him standing over her, mercifully blocking the sunlight coming through the window, a glass of water in one hand and some pills in the other. He looked far too bright eyed. "I am not ready for your smugness today."
"Why don't you take yourself to bed?" he suggested quietly, wisely deciding not to bait her in her current state.
"Because that would involve moving more than an inch," she explained, rolling back to her original waking position facing the back of the couch. She felt her eyelids drooping as he moved to close the curtains and place the throw from her armchair across her legs. With mumbled thanks she pulled the blanket up and over herself before giving into sleep, pills and water forgotten.
"I don't remember much after the moose hat story, which was not funny," she commented, rolling her eyes at him for effect over the rim of her coffee mug. Red made the best coffee, despite it still being made from the same jar of instant coffee she always used it still tasted better than if she had made it herself.
"Yet you laughed raucously at it," he countered, a smile breaking out across his face. "Really, Lizzie, you are a terrible flirt."
"Tell me I didn't throw myself at him," she said, becoming serious once more; she really had no recollection of the events that followed the awful moose hat anecdote.
"No, Oscar came away unscathed," Red confirmed and she breathed a sigh of relief, though she should've known from the look on his face that it would be short lived. "But you did throw yourself across a couple hooking up on the couch and demand that they scratch your back."
"Oh God." She hid her face in her hands. "Did they?" She was mortified to see Red nod as he laughed at the memory.
"I like you drunk on peach schnapps," he stated once he'd recovered himself.
"Never again. Didn't we do shots?"
He nodded. "Fireball." It was just as she feared – she knew exactly what she was like on that stuff.
"What are we, students?" she asked rhetorically, shaking her head at herself. "I can't remember anything," she stated.
"Nothing?" he asked.
"Not a thing," she confirmed. They finished their coffee in silence as he filled in the gaps she had left on the crossword, occasionally mumbling at how she should have known the answer. After about a half hour he rose from his seat, picking his fedora up off the table.
"I need to be going now," he stated, moving to deposit his empty mug in the sink. "If you need anything, give me a call."
"Thanks for your company, Red," she said, standing to follow him to the front door. "It's been fun."
"As always, I love it when I'm right," he responded with a wink, though she felt there was something forced in his manner.
Red had been distant, leaving her alone for the day. She figured he was allowing her a day to recuperate, but still found herself staring at her phone too often. She sent him a casual message at one point, enquiring about his day, but he didn't respond; she told herself he likely had business to attend to.
Her only contact with the outside world was Ressler; she had been surprised when his name flashed up on her phone screen, once again thwarting her browsing through her dating app.
"Ressler?" she answered a little more tersely than she intended.
"Hello to you too," came the gruff response.
"What's up?" she asked, confused as to why he was calling her in her vacation time.
"Just calling to check you're okay." Suspicious, very suspicious.
"Um... of course I'm okay, why?"
"You uh... you haven't looked at your messages have you?"
"No, why? Oh God, did I text you?"
He barked a laugh in disbelief. "You literally spelled every word wrong or with numbers except for 'drunk' which you used all caps for, Keen."
"I am so sorry," she mumbled from behind her hand, which now covered her mouth; she was mortified, but her only other contact in that situation would've been Red and since he was there with her the exercise would have been pointless.
Liz showered at two o'clock in the afternoon, telling herself she was 'getting up for the day'. Wrapped in a towel, she perched on the edge of the bath to sit and check her phone; the action triggered a sudden memory to flash in her head.
"Oh no," she whispered to herself as the pieces began to fit together. Red was distant after she told him she didn't remember anything about the night before. There was a girl in the bathroom. She was vomiting into the toilet. They had helped her in there before she made a mess. Then they perched on the edge of the bath together... and-
Jesus tap-dancing Christ... she had kissed him. Or he had kissed her. Either way, lips touched. Maybe tongues too. She pushed him into the bath, he pulled her with him.
Oh no.
No, no, no.
His behaviour before he left that morning, his lack of contact throughout the day. It all made sense.
Shit.
Acting impulsively, she messaged Red and invite to dinner the following night. She had to get things straightened out before she worried about it so much her vacation time would be ruined.
