11: What Could Have Been
Liz wasn't entirely comfortable playing house with Lane and Red but it didn't seem she had much choice. She was too tired to be pissed that Dembe had, upon Red's orders she was sure, packed up her hotel room and moved her to the palatial domicile Red and Lane would call home for the next two days. Red certainly didn't sacrifice comfort that was for sure. Her room was exceedingly ostentatious and very Raymond Reddington.
With a heavy sigh, she changed out of her work clothes and put on sweats and a tank top. Weary as she was, she was unsure if she'd sleep tonight. A freaking kill squad. The loss of any tenuous control she thought she might have on her life. It was all a little much.
Maybe she should have taken Ressler up on the offer to stay with him. At least they could have had some beers, maybe a pizza, and some basketball on TV to break the monotony of horrific thoughts tumbling around in her brain. If she hadn't felt the awkward judgment/threat emanating vaguely from where Red stood glowering, she could at least be relaxed right now. Her head shot up at the soft knock on her door.
"Yeah, it's open," she called. Lane stood at the door in leggings and a t-shirt, her hair in a God awful mess on top of her head. "What's up?"
"Well, Ray went out to do some secret squirrel stuff and there's a decent chance that I may never sleep soundly again. So I was wondering if you wanted to watch a chick flick with me and eat copious amounts of junk food?" She wrinkled her face and waved an iPad. Liz couldn't help but laugh.
"Sounds perfect but I'm not sure that Red would even think to stock this place with junk food."
"And that, my dear, sweet Elizabeth, is why I brought my own. I'm really glad you said yes or this would have been awkward," Lane said with a laugh, picking up a small bag next to her.
Liz watched with amusement as Lane came in like a whirlwind and jumped on to the bed with both feet before bouncing to her knees. Liz couldn't hold back a laugh as she crawled onto the giant sleigh bed. Lane nudged the bag at her while she set the iPad up on a little stand with a speaker. Liz dumped the bag out in front of where they sat cross-legged side by side.
"Ho-ly shit. This is amazing," she said, fanning out the boxes of cheesy crackers, little packages of chocolate and cookies, and boxes of candy that would have sent her into a sugar coma of happiness when she was a kid. "I didn't think dancers could eat this kind of crap."
"Meh, I don't do it often. Besides, we all need a night off now and then, right? How's Dirty Dancing?"
"Oh, I love that movie," Liz said, breaking into a pack of hot tamales. Lane helped herself to some out of Liz's hand and pushed play.
"You know, Ray actually took me to this when it came out…."
"What?" Liz gasped around hysterical laughter.
"Right?"
"I have a hard time seeing Red sitting through this movie."
"He did. The whole dang thing. I'm pretty sure he was plotting ways to end his life while we were sitting there," Lane laughed.
"How did you manage to talk him into it?"
"I didn't, really. He felt sorry for me. It was my seventeenth birthday. Danny was deployed, my parents were out of the country. He was between tours. He made a big deal out of taking me to dinner and a movie so I wouldn't feel alone."
"Aww."
"You know that really inappropriate crush? Pretty sure that's when it started but oh my gosh. Can you blame me? He was soooo dreamy."
They looked at each other and burst into laughter.
X X X
That's how Red found them when he got home an hour later. He followed their raucous laughter back to Lizzie's room. Lane was still sitting cross-legged, Lizzie laying on her stomach beside her, ankles crossed in the air behind her. Something about the scene did something to him deep inside. Under different circumstances…he gave his head a hard shake. It didn't do to think like that.
"Are you eating junk food? On the bed?" he asked from the door. Lizzie looked slightly guilty but Laney looked at him with her mouth ridiculously full of the orange crackers he remembered her loving from childhood. He couldn't help but chuckle.
"We needed a girl's night," Laney said, after a huge swallow of ginger ale to clear her mouth. He just shook his head in amusement at her.
"Oh my God, you're not," he said, when he recognized the movie. Lizzie and Laney exchanged looks and laughed. "I take it you told her?"
"Who knew you were such a sucker," Lizzie said, her eyes sparkling with laughter.
"Oh, I was. It was hard to say no to that face." Red laughed at the memory. "It was awful."
"But you saved my birthday and that's what mattered," Laney said, reaching out and squeezing his hand. He squeezed it back, knowing that he would have done anything for her back then to keep that heartbreaking look off her face.
"You ladies enjoy your movie, I'm going to bed," he said, unable to resist the urge to drop a kiss on both their heads.
Red was in bed reading when Laney came to bed a while later. He dropped the book on his chest and stacked his arms behind his head. She looked more relaxed than she had in days. Maybe it was good for all of them to have Lizzie with them for a bit. He certainly felt more at ease.
"Did they still stick Baby in the corner?"
"Indeed. You would think those overbearing daddies would stop trying to control their strong-willed daughters," she said with a smirk. He rolled his eyes at her and she just laughed.
"Did you enjoy yourselves?" he asked as he watched her brush her teeth and wash her face.
"Yep. Just what we both needed, I think," she said around a mouthful of toothpaste.
"I can't believe you smuggled in enough junk food to kill a horse."
"Don't judge me," she said with a laugh, crawling over him.
He had to resist the urge to put his hands on her and pulling her down on top of him. She sat cross legged on her side and dropped her hair brush into her lap. He watched her unwind her hair from the crazy mess on top of her head that he'd grown accustomed to her wearing at night. She dragged the brush through the snarls in her long, corn silk hair, the smell of her shampoo filling the air between them. It had only been a couple weeks since she'd been back in his life but he was growing dependent on these moments. She fit into his life in a way that both comforted him and scared the hell out of him.
"Exactly how many of my books did you steal?" she asked, tapping the book laying on his chest.
"More than one," he said sheepishly. "Although I seem to recall you telling me I could help myself."
"True." She put her brush on the side table and flipped off her lamp. She turned on her side to face him, pulling the blankets up to cover her bare shoulder.
"Will it bother you if I read for a bit?" he asked, his voice little more than a rumble. There was an odd intimacy to the tone that she was growing accustomed to.
"Read to me?"
"What?" he asked with a startled chuckle.
"I'm serious. I love the sound of your voice. You can read me to sleep. Please?"
"God, not with the face," he groaned, dramatically. "Fine."
She scooted over to his side and he put his arm around her. He ran his fingers soothingly through her hair as he read to her. He felt her go lax by degrees as she drifted off. He marked his place and switched off the lamp. She mumbled a bit when he upset her spot. He turned on his side in the dark and pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead. She settled with a sigh against him.
Red didn't make a habit of inviting women into his bed for more than a dalliance. It wasn't his style. He wasn't sure he wanted to examine the feeling he had holding her close to him in the dark. He prided himself on not needing anyone but he could allow himself to need this. And that made him weak.
In another life, maybe this could have been how they spent their lives—Lizzie close by and a happy part of their lives, holding Laney in his arms every night. Allowing himself to just be a normal man, surrounded by a loving family, doing the mundane things that most people took for granted. He could get lost in this. If it wasn't for the kill squad. And The Fulcrum. And 2017. All looming before him telling him that his days were numbered. That these stolen moments were all that he would have. That when the time came, he'd sacrifice himself once more for the people he cared about.
What might have been would never be. Could never be. He was nothing but a cancer to the happiness that lay before him and soon enough, he'd have to remove himself from it or he'd destroy them all.