Ain't Gonna Kiss You
A/N: Wow. What a finale and the direction the show is taking for Season 3, which makes this story (and all my other ones) Alternate Universe! LOL! I can only ask that you allow me some liberties with the setting of the story, and enjoy it for what it is. Thanks!
. . . . . . . . .
Chapter 7
"You can't say all that, and just walk away."
"I've said everything I wanted to say…" Ressler took tenuous steps toward her standing rigid by the door of her apartment, the very spot that he had left her not two minutes ago. And with each step that brought him closer to her, his steely eyes probed into hers in a nervous and fitful anticipation. Liz didn't realize she had held her breath as he stood before her, and had only remembered to take in a shot of air as her lung tightened in stifling depletion.
"Don…"
"Liz, what do you want…from me?"
She held his gaze of darkened blue eyes, which had quietly transformed from a tint of hesitation to sharpened glare that boldly demanded her attention and explanation. But the question came too fast for her, and his stance before her felt like a challenge, leaving her faculties in muddled disarray as she herself had yet to determine what she wanted…from him.
"Do you want me to stay?" He pressed after receiving only silence from her, his voice dropping once again to hushed anticipation. Liz fluttered her eyes caused by a blushing tremor in her heart…yes, she wanted him to stay, but what then? What would happen if he stayed?
"Liz…do you want me to go?" Ressler shifted his feet in dreaded heave, relegating to the prospect that her silent hesitation was indeed a rejection of sorts. He was willing to leave again, if that is what she wanted.
"No…" She uttered the word, sounding hoarse and strained from her dry throat, "I don't want you to go."
Ressler eased his tense shoulder in a veiled relief at hearing her response, and his face bore a faint smile, "Liz, I meant every word I said to you."
"I know…"
"And I don't want to go either."
"But you can't stay…"
"OK…" He was clearly confused as his brows twisted into a deep furrow, his eyes squinting at its edges in an attempt to read into her willful resolve. But even at her words, his feet remained planted in its rigid spot, as if he desired just a bit of explanation to be convinced.
"Don, I think we should…"
"Yeah…?"
"We should…" Liz knew what she wanted to say, but suddenly she was gripped with a certain school girl bashfulness, "I think we should go on a date."
"A what?"
"You know…do what the normal people would do."
"Sure…although we're beyond the normal at this point."
Liz nodded in full agreement, and in full acquiescence to their already beyond normal courtship, if it was called that. "I just feel that we should…go about it as how people would behave typically under the circumstances…"
She was starting to ramble, and Ressler halted her nimbly, "We're beyond the typical, too."
"Don, l need this, this…" Liz pointed at Ressler, and then to herself, in an decisive conclusion of themselves as a pair, "…to be as normal as possible…to do it right…"
"This, as in…"
"Courting…or dating…or however you want to call it. And…"
"And?"
"I want to experience that with you…for us to have that process."
"Process…?"
She eyed him quizzically, unable to read whether he truly didn't understand her, or if he was playing a dim jest, "The process…as in the stages that the normal couples go through…getting to know each other…doing cheesy romantic things together…having sentimental memories…"
"So, we're a couple, huh?"
"Don…"
"Alright, alright…" A soft snort escaped from his crooked smile, "That's what you want…the normal and the typical?"
"Yes…"
"Fine, then that's what you'll have." He cleared his throat in a rather animated droll, "I suppose if we're gonna do this the right way, I should ask you out on a formal date."
"If you're gonna do this the right way, you shouldn't have to announce it."
"Of course…right…" Ressler lifted his eyes to her in a quick shot of disapproval, but a sly grin settled on his lips nonetheless. He cleared his throat once more, straightened his shoulders to a broad confidence, and set his eyes firmly upon hers, but with a shy diffidence that emanated an unhidden amorous yearning. "Liz, would you go on a date with me on Saturday night?"
Liz didn't mean to, and much to her own surprise and marvel, a raucous chuckle escaped through her lips, just as she instantly tried to muffle its stinging edge. Athough she had absolutely expected Ressler to compose that question, the moment of hearing those words produced an odd sensation in her heart, of finding this situation quite awkward, silly, and ridiculous even. She looked up at Ressler with a sheepish apology, yet she couldn't help to laugh some more.
"So…are you gonna say yes, or what? Or are you gonna just stand there and laugh at me? Because this ain't the time for some mind games, Liz…" Ressler spoke with curt discomfiture, and his brows deepened in its furrow at every inflection of her chuckle.
"Sorry…I'm sorry…" Liz ceased her laughter as best as she could, "I don't know what came over me."
"What the hell, Liz…"
"I just found this entire thing…funny."
"You were laughing at me."
"No, I wasn't laughing at you…"
"You were looking at me, and you laughed."
"No…Don…it's not you, really…" She breathed in a lung full of air to compose her thoughts, but already sensed another bout of chuckles dangerously at the corner, "I just think this feels a bit odd…us doing this thing…"
"But that's what you wanted…right?"
"Yeah…I suppose…"
"Well…did I say something wrong? I'll admit it's been a while since I've asked a woman out on a date, and…you know what, this whole thing makes me feel ridiculous…"
"Don…you did everything perfectly."
Ressler's rigid shoulders appeared to release its taut strain, and his face lost almost all of its tense lines. He combed through his blond hair lightly, and even produced a small laugh himself, "You're right…this does feel odd."
"Maybe just a little…"
"Gotta say, this isn't exactly how I pictured my love life would turn out to be." He hastily studied the apartment hallway, of its dark green wallpaper and dim yellow lights above, "Liz, I want you to know…I know it doesn't look like it, but I do have some romance games up my sleeve."
"Oh, I believe it…"
"Really?" His eyes perked up, as if he wasn't expecting her to buy into his claim, or perhaps he himself wasn't fully convinced of his own announced abilities.
"This wine…" Liz glanced at the bottle of dark port in her hand, the gift he handed to her a moment ago for her birthday, "This is…pretty romantic."
"You bet it is." Ressler nodded in jest, "Did I tell you I had to drive four hours for that? That was all for you…very romantic."
"And you know…we've spent just about every romantic holidays together…"
"Sure…Christmas and New Year's…"
"…and we went to a wedding…"
"Don't forget we danced together at the wedding…that's romantic styles double kill…"
"But never mind that we were fighting like cats and dogs during all three occasions."
"Yeah…let's never mind that…all of that…" Ressler fidgeted his feet a slight, but his sly grin remained intact, "So…"
"So…"
"Are we still doing this?"
"The normal people, typical dating thing?"
"Yeah…that."
"Yes."
His eyes locked with hers in a sudden demure request, "Yes…as in…"
"Yes, as in…yes to the date."
"Saturday night?"
"Sure."
"OK…" Ressler's blue eyes twinkled in the dimness of the hallway, as there was no way his smile of relief could be masked even in the dingiest, in the most unromantic setting surrounding them. Liz couldn't help the soft chuckle at the man before her, as she found his unexpected boyish charms rather flattering.
"So…I guess dinner and…"
"Don, I'll leave the plans up to you."
"Right…right…" He nodded haltingly in realization, then came the crooked smile, "I'll bring on the romantic styles 'A' game…"
"No pressure…"
"None taken but my own."
"Just remember…simplicity is often unappreciated, but often necessary."
"Liz, it's our first official date, it's gotta be monumental…"
She simply shook her head and smiled at him, fully knowing that he was merely jesting, as any of the grandeur proclamations were in fact, not his style. And as she gazed into his teal blue eyes, softened and blurred with emotions only known to him, she felt a pang of temptation to throw the dating thing out of existence, and just invite him into her apartment that night. "It's getting late…"
"Yeah…"
"You better get on home to start planning for that 'A' game date…"
Ressler chuckled under his breath, "The anticipation is already building…"
"So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow…at the office?"
"Yup…bright and early." He then took a slight tentative step toward her, and when his eyes furtively flickered toward her lips, Liz couldn't help but to close her eyes and hold her breath. She may have leaned into him unknowingly, feeling carried by the wave of careless abandon, wanting to receive a kiss from him as much as she wanted to give him one herself. But Ressler retracted cautiously, and in a moment whispered in their small space, "Good night, Liz."
"Bye…Don."
And with that, Ressler turned and walked down the hallway for the second time that night. But this time, his steps were sprightly and jovial, as if propelled by completely different emotions than the previous time. Liz watched the walking figure for a few moments longer, of his bopping blond hair and flapping overcoat, then turned the key to her apartment door.
She locked the door behind her, and set the bottle of wine upon the dining table, but not before studying its glossy label with incredulous wonder. Everything that had happened that night felt a bit surreal…Ressler showing up at her apartment, that bottle of wine, and…their date. Then a sly revelation struck her. She realized the day was Wednesday, which meant they would have to get through two full days of work, of being partners…before their date on Saturday night. This must be the one of the pitfalls of dating someone from work, for how would they manage to be professional when their relationship had just completely veered off from professional? How would their next two days look like?
. . . . . . .
"Morning…"
"Hey, Keen."
So she was back to being Keen.
"What are we looking at?" Liz walked by Ressler poring over a file as she took off her dark coat, and proceeded to hang it on the coat hook by the door. He had hardly looked up to her as she entered their small office, and between the sips of the hot coffee, his eyes remained fixed upon the pages of papers gripped between his fingers. She tried to remember what they were working on the day before, but for some peculiar reason, her memories appeared wiped blank in the events before their night talk.
"Just got the preliminaries for the Heideman requisition."
"Oh?" For the life of her, she couldn't remember who…or what…Heideman was. And requisition for what?
Ressler tilted his head slightly from the files, and looked up with unceremonious stony eyes, "It's for Cooper, for headquarters crime stat."
"I see…" Liz wasn't fully sure what Ressler was talking about, but his austere and solemn reception that morning swayed her to drop the subject, with not an inkling to prod him any further. It didn't escape her that under normal circumstances, she would need far more convincing to simply surrender what was unknown to her, but that morning she felt no compulsion to tread where it wasn't needed.
Liz nodded at Ressler in acceptance of his covert engagement and without another thought, she sauntered toward her chair and dropped onto the seat while turning on her computer. She wasn't aware, but her eyes mindlessly drifted toward Ressler, only to find him staring back at her with a raised brow of mysterious befuddlement.
"What…?" She muttered under her breath, instantly replaying the morning's events if she had said something she shouldn't have.
"Nothing…"
"What? What is it?"
"It's…nothing."
Ressler hastily returned his doleful gaze back onto the file, but Liz knew it wasn't nothing and she couldn't help the irritated grimace harshly thrown at his direction, and perhaps with full intent. He looked up in a cautious flicker, being fully aware of her unrelenting probe. "I was just expecting you to be all up in my business…"
"All up in my business…? What does that even mean?"
"You know…wanting to know everything that I'm doing, in full detail."
"Really…"
"Actually, let me correct that…it'd be demanding to know everything that I'm doing."
Liz could very well detect the slight curl of smile on his face, and admittedly knew there was a heavy dose of jest mixed in with his tease, but she also couldn't deny the nagging feeling of sting at his words veiled in accusation. "You might as well call me a control freak…"
"Well…"
"First of all, I don't ever have to know everything that you're doing."
"Could've fooled me…" Ressler closed the file in his hand and laid it on his desk, but not without a snort and an impish grin, being quite unaware of her glowing reddened cheeks.
"Second of all, I'm perfectly fine with you carrying on your own business…"
He lightly patted the file on his desk, "Bet you're dying to know what's in this file."
"For your information, I have no interest in it."
"Uh huh…sure." He swiveled in his chair with a wily chuckle, clearly enjoying the spectacle he had created, all in her expense. "I should savor this moment as long as I can…it really is nice to be left alone for once."
"Excuse me?"
"But don't worry, I won't get comfortable."
"What the hell…"
"That's the spirit."
"Ressler…"
It was then that he let out a deep guttural laughter, with his eyes brightly lit with boyish whimsy, "Relax, Keen…I'm just messin' with you."
But Liz found none of it amusing in the least, and didn't mask her disapproving glower, "So, you accuse me of being a control freak…is there anything else that bothers you about working with me? Here's a perfect opportunity for you to unload onto your less than stellar partner."
"Come on, Keen…I didn't mean any of it. I was just playing…"
"And I'm completely humorless…add that to the list."
"Keen, for Christ's sake…" Ressler eyed her with a hazy affection, while his smile broadened with deep curls at its side. Liz didn't know whether his unrelenting smile annoyed her, or that it was rather discomfiting that her opposition didn't appear to dent his mysterious delight.
"I don't know what the hell you're smiling about." She decided she was more annoyed than curious.
"Alright…alright…I'm sorry, that was a poor play. I was just poking fun, that's all."
"Pushing my buttons for fun…let's not make it into a habit."
"Can't help it, Keen…" He leaned in and lowered his voice to a raspy gruff, "You're so damn cute when you're pissed off."
"Excuse me?"
He winked at her with a sly grin, much to her unbelief. This is the office after all, and his comment had absolutely no place in the office. Liz bit her lower lip with enough sting to quell the blushing heat rising onto her cheeks, but she knew it may already be too late. And it didn't go unnoticed by Ressler, whose countenance now bore a smug satisfaction as his inciting words affected her exactly as he wanted it.
"Look, they're just bunch of numbers for Cooper, nothing important." He pointed mindlessly at the file that had started it all, but his wistful gaze remained focus upon her, "And as far as I know, our schedule is cleared for the morning, so…"
"So…?"
"I thought we could just sit in our office, and I'll stare at your beautiful face while you stare at my…"
"Ressler…"
"…handsome face…"
"Cut it out."
"What?"
She would've liked to wipe that wicked grin off his face, as well the twinkling glint in his eyes that only meant he was cruising on some sprightly streak. He was actually starting to look rather dopey, and she couldn't help but to look out the office window, surveying the surroundings to see if anyone was in view of this silly debacle, "What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing's the matter with me."
"This isn't funny."
"I never said it was."
"Ressler…" She gave him a stern look of objection, "This can't happen, here…and you know what I mean."
"Actually, I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, no…this isn't good." He kept his face cleared and placid, but the mischievous determination flashed across his eyes, and Liz knew he was still trying to push her buttons. For what, she didn't care…but if she wasn't so irritated and flustered, she may have realized that he was merely flirting with her.
"It sounds like a perfect plan to me."
"Shut up, Ress…"
"Did you know you crinkle your nose when you…"
"Ressler!"
Then a sharp knock on their door rang in their small space, startling her to reflexively turn to the figure standing in the door way. It was Agent Navabi, who was leaning against the door with her arms crossed and eyeing the two of them like an odd spectacle. "Excuse me…am I interrupting?"
"No, no…" Liz instantly shook her head, and would've liked to know how long Agent Navabi was in their midst. She locked gazes with the agent, but got nothing in the radar from the poised and temperate brown eyes staring back at her.
"We were just…" Ressler's dopey grin remained unaffected, and Liz wasn't certain whether she should be impressed by his ability to readjust…or be afraid of what he might say next.
"We were just discussing an old case." Liz quickly intercepted his sentence, finishing it off in fear of his naughty disposition at the moment.
"What case?" Agent Navabi's arms remained crossed and unmoved with inquisitive posture. Liz needed to remember to never underestimate Navabi's sharp intuition, especially when fibs and hiding things were involved.
"An old case…it's nothing." Then Liz produced an unassuming smile, "What can I help you with, Agent Navabi?"
"Cooper needs both of you in his office."
Ressler stood up promptly and straightened his grey suit jacket, "Be right there."
At his words, Navabi turned and instantly left the office, just as Liz rose from her chair with a doleful glance at Ressler's direction. "Fun's over…so, behave."
"Fun is never over."
"It's over as soon as we step into this office."
"Oh, but that's precisely when the fun begins."
"Don't even think about it." And before Ressler could sneak in another word, Liz briskly walked out of the office, "And you know what I mean."
. . . . . . . . . .
"Abraham Abruezzi." Cooper didn't wait until the door was closed before he barked the name of the familiar wily criminal.
"Sir, that's a closed case."
"You won't believe who turned up in New York a week ago, flashing around his name and trying to start up his business."
"Sir?"
"His ex-wife, Janice Harper." Cooper handed them an opened file, which had an attached picture of a blond woman in mid-fifties wearing a white fur coat. "It turns out, she was an associate of his, operating with an alias but using his conglomerate to funnel money for various criminal activities. The last known intel is manufacturing false identities for extortion."
"The ex-wife, huh?" Ressler quipped with a light snort, with a raised brow at Cooper who appeared to share in the incredulous sentiment.
"Love didn't work out, but business did."
"She can't be smart if she tried to use his name." Liz examined the picture closely, noting Janice Harper's attire of fine clothing and jewelry, as well as two heavy-set bodyguards hovering behind her.
"She waited until the case went cold, but her trail is messy. Her last activities were picked up by the New York office, and she is presumably still in the area."
"What do you need from us, sir?"
"I'm sending you both to New York, to aid in the investigation since you were lead agents for Abruezzi. Help with intel, in anyway you can."
"Yes, sir."
"You're confirmed for a flight in two hours, and you will return tomorrow evening. The attending officer will debrief you with the latest intel as you arrive in New York. And I'll have Aram prepare case files."
"We're returning tomorrow, sir?" It may have been professionally objectionable to point out such detail, especially as Liz had never done so in the past. But this time…she felt compelled to object to it, if she was allowed, but it only earned a questioning side glance from Ressler.
"Yes, your lodgings have been arranged." Cooper's response was curt and final, as to not allow a discussion to the matter.
"I see…"
"Would that be a problem, Agent Keen?"
"No…no, sir."
"Good. And good luck."
. . . . . . . . . . .
Liz had hardly a minute to think as she rushed home to pack for the overnight trip, haphazardly throwing in clothing and toiletries into the fed issued black bag. At this point she should be a bit of an expert in packing at the last minute, but it wasn't the frenetic demands that flustered her at that moment. No, it was something else entirely, and if she could just silence the stifling whirl and breathe, she would be able to think this through and come to some sort of a decision. But she didn't have the time, and as she hastily checked her watch, she knew Ressler was already downstairs waiting for her.
She bounded down the steps of her apartment building with the duffle bag in hand, and huffed toward the waiting black car parked at the curb. Ressler had offered to pick her up on the way to the airport, and as expected, he was on time.
"Hey…" Liz sighed as she opened the passenger side car door, making a brief eye contact with him as she climbed into the seat.
"Off we go…" Ressler mumbled mindlessly as he put the car in gear to accelerate forward, but in an instant, she placed her hand upon his arm with a firm grasp.
"Ressler, stop."
"What?"
"We can't go."
"Huh?"
"We can't go."
"What the hell…" He grunted as he changed the gear of the car to remain parked, and turned to face Liz with deep furrows of befuddled disorientation, "What's wrong?"
"Ressler…"
"What is it?"
"We need to tell Cooper."
"About what?"
"That we're dating."
"That we're…what?"
Liz turned away from his demanding eyes, and his tone of voice that was becoming increasingly exasperated with every inflection of a word. She inhaled deeply before meeting his eyes again, "We need to tell Cooper we're dating, because he would never authorize his agents to overnight assignments if he knew."
"And why the hell not?"
"Because of the regulations."
"Funny…I don't recall such regulations…"
"Ressler…"
"Jesus Christ…Liz…" And now it was his turn to inhale deeply, but his was out of dreaded confusion and impatience, "First of all, we are not dating…technically. We haven't gone out on one single date…"
"Really…that can't be your argument…"
"Fine, let's say we are in a relationship. But we're still adults and we can handle working together…because we're not some teenagers with some goddamn hormone issues."
"That's beside the point."
"That's precisely the point."
"We need to tell Cooper."
"What should we tell him…that we're about to go on our first date this Saturday?"
"Ressler…"
With his hands tightly clenched on the steering wheel, Ressler then let out a strained snicker, "Liz, are you suggesting that we can't work together because we're dating? Because I feel like that's where you're going with this…"
"No, I'm not saying that…"
"Then, what the hell is the problem?"
"Maybe…it's…" She couldn't believe she was about to say this, "Maybe it means that we shouldn't date because we are partners."
"You don't mean that." Ressler was quick to disclaim her fearful assumption, "You can't possibly think that our emotions are going to affect our work. That's a load of crap, and you know it."
"If you don't think our emotions are going to affect our work, then you're not being realistic."
"Realistically speaking, I know I'll get the job done, and nothing will get in the way of it."
Liz was tempted to believe him, and he may have been absolutely accurate, but now wasn't the time to give in to his dogged persistence, "In any case, Cooper needs to know. That much is protocol."
"Right…we might need to sign some regulation papers. Make it an official declaration."
"And this trip…we can't…"
Ressler turned to face her with his blue eyes searing in focus, "Look, Liz…we have about an hour to get our asses to the airport and onto that damn airplane. And I'm not one to make hasty decisions…so, let's just get on that plane, get our job done for the next two days, and let's talk when we get back."
Liz stole a quick glance at her wrist watch; he was right, they had about an hour. And he was also right in that everything felt awfully rushed, and it would be an utter hasty decision if they were to alter the planned trip, especially after all the preparations that Cooper had arranged with the New York office.
"Liz, I'm not dumping this on Cooper, not now."
"Fine."
"Fine, what?"
"Fine, we'll get this done. And we'll talk…after we come back."
"Good." Ressler snorted a soft sigh of relief, and instantly changed the gear of the car. But as the car engine revved in anticipation, he turned to her again, "Just…promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Don't…don't overthink this by yourself…and make decisions without telling me. OK?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean."
. . . . . . . . . .
It turned out that Ressler had no cause for concern, as Liz wasn't afforded even a sliver of a moment to think of her own choosing. During their two-hour flight, they studied the files that Aram had prepared, and when they landed, they were promptly picked up by the attending agent, who proceeded to drive them straight to the New York bureau office. After an hour of debriefing regarding the known activities of Janice Harper, they immediately went to work with the operation agents. At some point, Ressler was taken to field investigations, and Liz didn't see him until it was nearly nine o'clock at night when they were summoned to be driven to their lodgings.
The attending agent escorted them to a small hotel in the outskirts of Manhattan, and assisted in checking them in at the front desk. They were given keys to their rooms, which were located next to each other, and it was by the elevators that the attending agent bid them good bye.
"Did you have dinner?" Those were Ressler's first words to her as he pushed the elevator button to fifth floor.
"Yeah…they brought something. You?"
"Yup."
"So…" Liz didn't understand why she felt so tense and stammered like she was being laid bare, "Any progress with the field op?"
"If you can call it that…" He combed through his hair with a frustrated huff that Liz knew too well, "I have a feeling the suspect fled the vicinity."
"Most likely."
"We do have one lead, but if you ask me…"
"It's stale."
"Yup." The elevator door opened with a soft thud, and Ressler stepped aside for Liz to exit first, "All this work for chasing a dead horse in a fur coat…go figure."
The hallway was brightly lit but deathly quiet, and the only sounds heard were their tired leaden steps unto the worn out carpet. Their rooms were located at the corner, at the far end of the hallway, and Ressler lingered over her as she fidgeted with the room key.
"So…you feel like having a drink?" His voice was hushed and hoarse, somewhat fitting with the eerie stillness of the hallway.
"It's late…"
"It's only ten o'clock…"
Liz studied his face, and winced at the deep circles that had settled so haughtily under his eyes. He was tired, and perhaps he was offering a drink for her favor. "I'm exhausted…"
"Yeah?"
"And we do have a full day tomorrow…"
"Yes, we do…"
"We really should rest…"
"OK…then…I guess it's a good night."
"Night."
And with that, Liz closed the door firmly behind her, and with the muffled movement of Ressler entering his own room on the other side of the wall, she finally felt contented to relax. She threw her duffle bag onto the bed, and immediately fished out her toiletries for a nice hot shower.
. . . . . . . . .
The shower did indeed do wonders to lift her spirits after a long taxing day, and after changing into her pajamas, Liz plopped onto the bed and mindlessly turned on the TV. After flipping through all of gazillion channels, and incredulously finding absolutely nothing worthy to watch, her eyes wandered to the wall that stood separating Ressler and herself. She hadn't heard a single sound escaping from his room…and he was most likely already sleeping…but in her mind, only one question existed…is he coming or not?
"Oh, no…no…no…no…" Liz shook her head, feeling brazen and immodest that a thought of such could come to a bold existence in her mind, and not only that, its desires were quite insistent. She had turned down his offer of drinks…but now she was regretting it…and…impatiently required him to be at her company. How can he be so stupid as to take a "no" for an answer?
"No…oh, god, no…" Liz clapped her hand over her mouth, as if those insolent words were spoken out loud, and she blushed in embarrassment over her own indiscretion. She had chided Ressler regarding their work being affected by emotions…but she hadn't foreseen that it'd be…her…that seemed to need that very lecture. While Ressler was in deep slumber of no concern, there she was…in an emotional wreck of wanting him…with the mere thought of a thin wall separating them driving her to babbling foolery.
And not only that, against her own shameful reproach, Liz got up from the bed and tiptoed toward the wall in question, and pushed her ear against the cold slab…in an attempt to hear anything, to see if he really was sleeping. She heard not a sound but a distant buzz…so perhaps he had left the room? Because there was no way he could fall asleep that fast…
"I can't…I can't do this."
Liz flung herself onto the bed and got under the blanket, feeling flustered by such childish antics, but more so at losing control over her sense of decorum and will. And she was better than this…she has to be. She has to have better grip of her emotions and sensibilities, be clear headed and focused…much more so than Ressler, because he's the callow and petulant one. In this race of emotional control, it'd be her who could teach him a lesson or two.
Yet, the last enduring thought before slumber took over her was…so, he's really not coming?
. . . . . . . . .
"Good morning." Ressler knocked on her door at eight o'clock on the dot, and Liz languidly opened it with the duffle bag in her hand. He looked fresh with still wet hair, and his eyes were alert and warm, "Ready?"
"Yup."
As Liz stepped out of her room, she saw that his hand reached for her bag, but she elected to ignore it and walked ahead with focus upon the end of the hallway. Ressler stayed close behind her, and followed with not a word until they reached the elevator door. "Did you sleep OK?"
"Yup."
He pressed the button to summon the elevator, "Do you wanna grab some breakfast?"
"Nope."
"No?"
"Not feeling hungry."
"Oh…" Apparently, that wasn't the response Ressler wanted, judging by the quizzical frown on his face. "Not even some coffee?"
"I'll have some at the bureau office."
"Alright…"
The elevator door opened with a muffled ding, and Liz stepped in with one swift motion. And as soon as the door slid closed, Ressler turned to face her, "So…you slept OK…"
"Yeah, fine."
"It's just that…"
"What?"
"Liz, you feeling alright?"
"Yes, I feel perfectly fine."
But he wasn't convinced one bit, and he kept his probing eyes upon her blank face, "Are you upset…or something?"
"Upset? Why would I be upset?"
"I don't know, you tell me…"
"No, I'm not upset. Don't be ridiculous."
"Liz…are you upset at me?"
"No…"
"You are upset at me…"
"Oh, please..."
"Alright...what the hell did I do?"
"I'm not upset at you, and why does everything have to revolve around you?"
Then, and perhaps fortuitously, the elevator door opened with a loud clunk, and the solemn face that greeted them was that of the attending agent from the previous day. Liz heard Ressler's unyielded grunt behind her, and knew that he was annoyed at the sudden end to that conversation, but she marched on ahead next to the agent. If it was left up to her, that conversation was completely unnecessary, and best it removed from her concerns.
. . . . . . . . .
As soon as they were driven to the bureau office, Ressler was immediately summoned to the field investigations division, and Liz was left in the data operations office. She didn't see him for the entire day, but perhaps that was unplanned but providential turn of events as their irate bickering in the morning would not have translated well into work. As much as she found his self-absorbed arrogance completely exasperating, she wasn't about to admit that the source of her infuriated nerves were indeed…him…and his buffoonish lack of senses when it came to her. How dare he ask her how she slept…when he had shown no concern for her during the night? Not even a phone call to check up on her…unbelievable.
It wasn't until close to eight o'clock at night when Liz saw Ressler saunter into her office, just in time to be driven to the airport. His tired and downtrodden face told her that the suspect pursuit was largely fruitless, and deciding that no words were necessary, she packed her brief case silently as he waited for her. Then they filed out of the bureau building, still without a word, and climbed into the waiting car of the attending agent.
Ressler slept fitfully through most of the two-hour plane ride, but his fatigue seemed to wane a slight as he drove her home. It was a long couple of days, and while the suspect still at large was of significant concern, Liz was more affected by the perplexing and erratic energy that had sprouted in her heart. And as Ressler parked the car by the curb of her apartment building, she turned to face him, just as a constricting anguish came from somewhere deep within her.
"Thanks for driving…"
"No problem."
"The suspect…"
"I don't wanna talk about that." Ressler huffed in a light snicker, "The fur coated extortionist is still on the loose…watch out, corporate America."
"You'd think she'd be easy to spot on Wall Street."
"Are you kidding? With her two thug body guards, she blends right in." He laughed softly into their small encased space, but it wasn't difficult to detect a strained apprehension underneath the jovial tone, "So…"
"So…?"
"Tomorrow is Saturday."
"I know…"
"Am I still showing up…for our date?"
"Do you want to?"
"Of course, I do." Ressler leaned closer to her, with his hand perched gently on her shoulder, "Liz…I don't know how much more clear I have to be about how I feel about you…"
"Don…I've been thinking…"
"No…that can't be good." His hand left her shoulder, and she instantly felt the warmth robbed of that lovely spot, "Alright…just give it to me straight…"
"During the last couple of days, I've come to realize that…"
"The last couple of days? We hardly spoke two words…what the hell, Liz…"
"It's not what you think."
"You know…I was right." He nodded in smug realization, "You are upset at me for something. Just tell me, what the hell did I do? What the hell did I say? Best you say it instead of me trying to figure it out."
"Don, it's nothing like that."
"Because I'm right about done trying to read your mind."
"Really...is that how you see it?"
"Liz, you wanna know how I see it?" His nostrils flared in the deep heave of air, and his eyes flickered in a mixture of trembling and resolve, "Here's how I see it. You're in love with me, as much as I'm in love with you."
"You're…what?"
"So, what's it gonna be? You want me to show up tomorrow, or what? It's your call, Liz."
. . . . . . . . . .
A/N: Thank you so much for reading this story! You just logged in 6.5K words, wow! Thanks for the patience and keeping up with the long chapter. Good job! Ahahahaha
So, I know it's been FOREVER since I've updated this story. I've just finished my 3rd year in college, and it's been so crazy hectic (internship, job, etc.). But my summer is completely free, for once, and I'm totally committed to finish all my unfinished stories. I'm on it!
I'm also really excited for season 3. Wow…can't wait to see Ressler chase after Lizzie. I'm foreseeing a lot of heat between these two. Fingers crossed that writing will do justice, and that KEENLER chemistry will be treated with much love and care.
