After a quick round of coffee with Ellie, they said their goodbyes – with promises that Liz and Ellie would see each other again soon – and loaded Hudson and his crate and his bed and his toys and bowls and food into the empty crevices of the car, which was quickly filling up after their many stops of the day.
Before they knew it, Samar was pulling up outside the Audrey once again, and they restarted the process of moving in, taking Sara and Hudson inside, and then alternating trips up and down over and over again, retrieving Liz's boxes and belongings and Hudson's various accouterments and the paint and supplies.
Despite her excitement over the dog, Sara was nearly falling asleep by the time they got inside the apartment. Liz glanced at the clock. It was one o'clock – probably a good time for a nap anyway. She settled Sara into her crib and she quickly fell asleep to the feel of Liz running her fingers gently through her hair.
Hudson had settled into his bed next to the couch. Apparently it was his naptime too. Liz smiled. She had a family. She didn't need Tom, or… whoever he was. Tom wasn't real. She didn't need anyone except her daughter and her dog and her friends. Her incredible friends, some who she really needed to make more of a priority, and some who she hadn't even known were there, not really.
She glanced around the room, and when she noted that Samar wasn't in it, she wandered down the hall in search of her.
Samar was in Sara's room. Of course she was. Somehow she'd managed to move all of the furniture into the center of the room by herself, spread the tarps and opened the paint and was already rolling lilac all over the walls.
By herself.
Of her own volition.
Liz could feel her eyes stinging and she bit her tongue to hold back her tears, but it wasn't enough this time. She'd known if Samar continued this way, she'd break down, and apparently that time was now.
A soft noise, somewhere between a sob and a whimper, escaped her and she hid her face behind one hand, embarrassed. And suddenly Samar was there, a reassuring hand on her arm. "Are you okay?"
Liz huffed a laugh in disbelief through her tears. "No. I mean, yes, I am, but no," she admitted, confusing even herself.
Samar ran her hand up and down Liz's upper arm, a gesture meant to comfort, unsure what, if any, further physical contact Liz would be comfortable with.
But then Liz's head dropped further into her hand, heavy, and she allowed herself to sob, to fall forward into Samar, still hiding her face, her hand a barrier between her tears and Samar's thin shirt.
Samar was surprised for a moment, but quickly recovered, gathering Liz into her arms, rubbing soothing circles into her back. She didn't speak; she knew she didn't need to. She knew why Liz was crying. She knew and she held her tightly, wondering if Liz could feel the heavy thumping beat of her heart in her chest.
An indeterminable amount of time later – a blur of tears and comfort and the smell of Samar's own shampoo in Liz's hair – Liz had calmed somewhat, but she still didn't pull away, instead wrapping her own arms around Samar, hooking her chin over her shoulder, and whispering, heartfelt, next to her ear. "Thank you. For everything, all of this. Thank you."
"You're welcome. But thanking me isn't necessary, Liz. Really. I'm here for anything you need." Liz was silent. Samar reluctantly disentangled herself from their embrace, leaving her hands on Liz's shoulders, unwilling to completely give up touching her so suddenly. "All right?"
Liz was looking at the floor, slightly embarrassed, but after a moment she brought her eyes up to meet Samar's, smiling softly, nodding.
Samar smiled reassuringly. "So here's the plan. We're going to finish the first coat," she said, glancing around the room. "And then we're going to take a break to eat something. Then we'll finish painting, get this room set up, make sure everything is unpacked and just the way you want it, and then we're going to order a pizza to celebrate. Sound good?"
Liz nodded again, overwhelmed with gratitude for Samar's generosity, brushing a few fresh tears from her eyes.
"The rest we'll figure out tomorrow," Samar added. Liz opened her mouth to protest, but Samar wouldn't let her. "No arguments. Whatever doesn't get done today, I'll help you with tomorrow."
Liz honestly seemed to be at a loss, so with a small smirk on her face, Samar reached behind her for a paint roller, holding it out. She tilted her head toward the wall, a twinkle in her eyes. "Come on, let's make this room purple."
Liz grinned, taking the roller from Samar. She filled a tray with lilac paint and watched Samar climb up the step ladder to continue where she'd left off, all the while trying not to think about the way her heart had jumped in her chest at the touch of their fingers.
TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL
Hours and hours and hours later – after they finished painting, after Sara woke up from her nap, after they finished setting up Sara's bedroom and cleaned up the mess, after Sara helped them unpack Liz's books and photo albums, framed photos and knick knacks, DVDs and coffee mugs, after they found a place for the lamps and the rug and the music box and the TV (which went in her bedroom as Reddington had already outfitted the living room with a new state-of-the-art television) and everything else that needed a place in her new home, after all of Hudson's things were set up (his leash over a hook by the door, his crate in a corner, his bed by the couch, his food and bowls in the kitchen, his toys in a basket beneath the coffee table), after a pizza dinner in the kitchen and some time spent relaxing on the couch watching Sara playing with Hudson's ears, after taking Hudson out for a short walk around the neighborhood, after giving Sara a bath and putting her to bed – Liz found a bottle of wine while Samar was in the bathroom, poured two glasses, and headed to the balcony.
She leaned her forearms against the railing, a glass of wine in each hand. She took a deep breath of the chilly air, letting it wake her up, re-energize her, the breeze blowing strands of hair across her cheek. She stared out at the twinkling lights of the city, the dark ribbon of the river, the stream of headlights and brake lights moving across the bridge below. She let her eyes flutter closed, focusing on the feel of the breeze brushing her skin.
The sound of the door sliding open brought her back to herself, and she opened her eyes, turning to smile at Samar, holding out one of the wine glasses.
Samar accepted it with a small smile and a quiet thank you, stepping forward to lean against the railing next to Liz. They each took a sip of their wine, content to be silent, melting into the quiet hush of the wind and city sounds far below after their busy, exhausting day.
Long, companionable minutes later, Liz let out a soft huff of laughter. Samar glanced over curiously.
Liz met her gaze and smiled, a mixture of amusement and gratitude. "So I really can't say thank you, huh?"
Samar smiled softly, her gaze moving back out to the distant lights. "You can say thank you." She looked down into her glass, eyes locked on the pale liquid. "But I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything. And to be honest, the more often you thank me, the more I get the feeling you're surprised that I care about you." She paused, finally gathering the courage to meet Liz's gaze once again, noting the concerned crease in her brow. "I don't want that to surprise you."
Liz swallowed the lump of emotion growing in her throat. "Samar…" she began.
Samar shook her head, looking back down at her wine, speaking before Liz could continue. "I know you've had a difficult year, that your attention has been elsewhere, but I've been there for you from the beginning, Liz. I've cared about you since I first joined the task force."
Samar's eyes remained downcast, flickering between her wine glass and the lights of the moving cars below – anywhere but at Liz.
Liz silently, wordlessly moved her hand to cover Samar's where it was clutching the railing, curling her palm around and squeezing tightly. Samar's expression didn't change, but Liz could feel her hand stiffen, her fingers briefly gripping the railing more tightly.
Liz smiled reassuringly, her hand feeling warm and right against Samar's. She ignored the fluttering in her chest, the thrum of her heartbeat, and murmured, "I know." She searched Samar's eyes, wishing she could see into her thoughts, then gave her hand another reassuring squeeze and said it again: "I know."
Samar smiled, pleased by Liz's response, but looked down again, her cheeks flushing, embarrassed by her own vulnerability. Liz didn't move her hand for quite some time, and they finished their wine in comfortable silence, both unaware that the other's heart was beating just as fast, just as hard.
Realizing she'd run out of reasons to stay, Samar spoke. "I should probably go. It's been a long day; I'm sure we could both use some sleep."
Liz nodded, successfully hiding her disappointment at the words. She turned back to the door, sliding it open and stepping to the side so Samar could walk inside first. Once she'd closed and locked the door behind them, she followed Samar into the kitchen. She began to rinse the wine glasses under the faucet, keeping her eyes on her hands. "You can stay here if you want. If it's easier, you know, since you just had wine and you're tired," Liz offered, placing the wine glasses inside her new dishwasher and latching it closed before turning back to look at Samar.
"I think I'll sleep better in a bed after the day we've had," Samar replied, smiling, before quickly adding, "Unless you want me to stay, of course."
"Oh, no," Liz answered immediately. "No, it's okay. That's not what I meant."
"I'll be back tomorrow though," Samar promised, moving toward the entry hallway and slipping her jacket on. "We need to pick up your car from wherever it is. The Post Office?" she asked as Liz joined her in the hall.
Liz crossed her arms across her chest, nodding.
"And I'm sure we'll think of a few more things that need to be done. Groceries, maybe," Samar continued, gathering her hair into her hand and pulling it out from beneath her jacket, then letting it fall back around her shoulders. "Ten-thirty? Eleven?"
"Sure, ten-thirty," Liz replied with a soft smile. "Thank you," she murmured, "and that doesn't mean I'm surprised; it just means I'm grateful." And then before she could think about it or talk herself out of it – or more accurately, before she even really knew what she was doing – she took a couple steps forward and leaned in, placing a kiss on Samar's cheek. She lingered perhaps a moment too long and then took a step back, knowing without a doubt that she was blushing.
She tightened her arms across her chest, but didn't look away from Samar's gaze. Samar was visibly surprised, but trying valiantly not to show it, so Liz spoke to distract her from her apparent inability to form words.
"Hey, before I forget – can you let me know if you hear anything about the crime scene before I do? I'd like to be able to go get the rest of Sara's things. Her toys, her books, the rest of her clothes, some personal stuff, like family photos–" Liz listed, ticking items off in her mind.
Samar placed her hand on Liz's shoulder. "Of course." She smiled. "Goodnight, Liz." And then she turned and opened the door, stepping over the threshold.
"Goodnight," Liz murmured quietly, her heart skipping a beat at the look on Samar's face when she smiled back at her over her shoulder. She closed the door and turned the lock, frozen in place, one hand on the door, for a minute before forcing herself to walk back through the apartment. She switched off the lights and then patted her leg to get Hudson's attention. "Come on, buddy, let's go to bed." He dutifully, happily, lumbered out of his dog bed and followed her down the hall, the tags on his collar jingling merrily.
She peeked into Sara's room, smiling at how peaceful her baby girl looked in sleep, before quietly grabbing the baby monitor and carrying it into her bedroom, Hudson trailing behind. She stripped down to her underwear and slipped into her glorious new bed – Reddington really did have fantastic taste and apparently knew her well, too. She set the baby monitor on her nightstand next to her phone and pulled the blankets up, tucking them around her chest.
She turned off the lamp and rolled onto her opposite side. "Hudson," she called into the dark room, and immediately his furry body leapt onto the bed. She could feel his weight as he padded several steps across the mattress toward her before curling up beside her. She reached over, stroking his back, before draping her arm over him. She swallowed the lump in her throat and moved closer until she and the blankets were pressed against him, tightening her arm across his body. "I missed you, Hud," she whispered shakily.
His tail thumped against her leg once, twice, then stilled again. A single tear slipped silently from her eye and she blinked the wetness away, then focused on the rise and fall of Hudson's body beneath her arm, allowing herself to drift off to sleep.
TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL
She woke in the dead of night to the sound of Sara's wails through the baby monitor. She hoped desperately that once Sara was settled into her new life, these night panics would stop, but for now, she slipped into her purple bedroom, comforting her, telling her everything would be okay, murmuring that she was so sweet, and how much her mama had loved her, how much she loved her, how sorry she was that she missed her mama and that her mama had to go.
Liz fell back into her own bed forty minutes later, Sara finally asleep again. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she buried her face in her pillow to muffle her choked sobs, emotionally exhausted. Having Hudson back to comfort her, to dry – or rather, lick – her tears, was a help, but she found herself wishing Samar had stayed. When she finally fell asleep, her mind was a haze of loneliness, sadness for her daughter, and thoughts of Samar.
TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL
Liz couldn't stop herself from beaming when, at ten-thirty on the dot the next morning, the sound of the buzzer indicated Samar's arrival. She pressed the button to let her in and scurried to the living room to distract her oddly ragged nerves with the sight of Sara propped up against Hudson, clumsily paging through a board book and making up a story to go along with the words.
"You're such a smart girl," Liz murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "Auntie Samar is almost here," she told her, and smiled at the goofy excited grin that spread across the little girl's face.
"Samaw!" she squealed, immediately dropping her book to the floor, forgotten.
Liz scooped her up, laughing. "Yeah, I'm happy to see her too," she admitted, just as a knock sounded at the door. She hurried toward it, still ignoring her rapidly beating heart, and turned the knob, swinging it open to find Samar holding a cup from Liz's favorite coffee shop.
"Samaw! Yay, Samaw hea-uh!" Sara exclaimed, swinging her legs excitedly from her perch in Liz's arms.
Samar had already been smiling, but it grew, pushing her cheeks into perfectly round circles as she walked inside. "Hey, cutie pie! I'm so happy to see you!" Samar said, reaching up with her free hand to stroke the little girl's blonde wisps and leaning in to kiss her on the forehead.
Sara giggled cheerfully, pointing at her. "Auntie Samaw," she said, then moved her finger to stick it into Liz's dimple. "Mama Wiz." Liz moved her head to the side quickly to kiss her little finger, which only made Sara giggle harder.
Sara's attention returned to Samar. She swung her legs again, reaching out with her fingers stretched wide. "Mama Wiz happy uh see Auntie Samaw," she said happily.
Liz blushed instantly, knowing that Sara was repeating her words from just a minute ago, hoping against hope that it wouldn't fully make sense to Samar.
Samar looked a bit confused, but as soon as she met Liz's gaze, saw the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks, she knew exactly what Sara had meant. She tried desperately not to smile, to make sure her expression didn't change, but her mouth quirked up slightly on one side. "Yeah?" Samar asked Sara, stroking her hair again. "I'm happy to see her too." She could feel her own cheeks beginning to flush, and she kept her gaze firmly on Sara, adding "Happy to see both of you."
Suddenly Samar remembered the cup in her other hand and hurried to steer the conversation away from its current territory. She forced herself to look at Liz, holding up the cup so she would notice it. "This is for you. Vanilla lattes are your favorite, right?"
Liz managed to get out a "yeah" – quiet and cracked because she was so moved by the gesture. Why hadn't she noticed that Samar was right there, waiting to be her friend, all this time? How had it taken her this long to see that Samar cared? "Thanks, Samar, this is really sweet of you," she said, taking the cup with her free hand and kneeling to place Sara on the floor before taking a sip of the latte. She closed her eyes and hummed contentedly at the first warm swallow, as Sara toddled off to lunge at Hudson in an attempt to show off for Samar.
"How did you both sleep?" Samar asked, taking off her jacket and hanging it on the hook, as if she were at home, as if she belonged there, which filled Liz with a sense of peace, tinged with an odd hint of relief.
"Not bad. Reddington certainly doesn't skimp on the luxuries; that mattress is incredible," Liz replied with a smirk which promptly fell off of her face as she continued. "But Sara woke up in the middle of the night again, crying for her mom, and I was up with her for almost an hour. I'm just so worried about her, you know? I don't know how long it'll take for these night panics to stop," she admitted.
"I'm sorry, Liz, I should've stayed," Samar replied, her brow creased, her eyes sad, as she reached out to gently place her hand on Liz's arm.
Liz shook her head, smiling reassuringly. "No, no, it wouldn't have changed anything. And at least this way, one of us got a full night's sleep."
Something flashed in Samar's expression, but Liz couldn't identify it. It almost seemed like… guilt? She shook off the thought and took a breath to steady herself before speaking again. "You know, I was thinking last night after you left, about what you said, and I just want you to know that I'm here for you too. If you need anything. I mean, I don't know what's going on in your life, but I'd like to."
Samar's fingers gripped her arm more tightly for a moment, as if she were using Liz to stabilize her emotions.
"I'd like that too," Samar finally replied.
"Good." Liz smiled. "So, are you okay?" she asked, her smile turning into a mischievous smirk. "You've got a bit of 'dark circle' happening here," she said, lifting her finger and trailing it in the air around Samar's eyes.
Samar snorted and looked at the ground, trying to hide her smile. "I'm fine. I don't sleep well most nights, that's all."
Liz frowned, but decided not to press the matter. "Ah, so maybe you should have stayed," she said, trying to continue the joking tone of their exchange. "The three of us could have been some sort of insomnia club."
Samar shot her a genuine smile. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Samaw, Samaw!" Sara interrupted them, calling from the living room where she was practically on top of Hudson.
They turned, and when they saw the two of them, they both had to stifle back their laughter. Samar followed Liz into the room and watched as Liz sat down next to them, placing one hand on Sara's head and one on Hudson's. "My favorite girl and my favorite guy. What more could I want?"
Samar stood, her arms crossed across her chest as if she thought the defensive stance would help protect her against her own emotions. But of course, nothing could. She smiled sadly as she watched them, wishing more than anything that she could be part of their family.
TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL
Later, after Samar had driven them to the Post Office to retrieve Liz's car, after they'd driven back to the Audrey to drop it off for the time being, after grocery shopping – which, they learned, was quite an adventure with a two year old – and after everything had been put away and Sara had fallen asleep for her afternoon nap, they found themselves once again standing next to Liz's apartment door.
"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" Samar asked, draping her jacket over her arm rather than putting it on – a small thing, but one that made her feel less like she was actually leaving when she so desperately wanted to stay.
"I'm sure, Samar." Liz smiled, reaching for her arm affectionately. "Go home and get some rest. You're not the one who adopted a kid. You deserve time off after all you've done for us the past couple days."
Liz's profiler mind kicked in as she noticed that familiar flicker of hurt and disappointment in Samar's eyes at the words she'd meant to be innocuous and playful. "You okay?" she asked. Samar seemed to stiffen, to close off, at her words. Liz hoped she was imagining it.
"I'm fine," Samar insisted with a smile. Liz could tell it was fake – there was no twinkle in her eyes, and Liz had noticed that when Samar smiled, really smiled, there was always a bright spark of life, a spark of passion, impossible to ignore. (At least it was impossible for Liz to ignore. She assumed everyone had noticed it. How could they not? It left her positively giddy every time she saw it.) But she decided to let the lie stand; she could sense that now wasn't the time to push boundaries.
"Call me if you need anything?" Samar continued, turning to the door and opening it, but unable to stop herself from looking back at Liz over her shoulder.
"Of course," Liz replied, smiling gently.
Samar nodded, her smile wavering slightly, and before Liz could even blink, she was gone, a closed door separating them. In the hallway, Samar allowed her composure to slip. After all, in the hallway there was no one around to see the tears just beginning to fill her eyes.