Dead Ends
Anslo Garrick was in the wind. It had been over a week and not one word had been heard from the man that - they presumed - had taken Howard Hargrave hostage. There hadn't been a body found either, which Liz hoped was a good sign.
The task force had been running hard, trying to compensate for being a man down and for their CI who was still in the process of cleaning up the leak that he believed had come from a trusted source. She had barely seen Christopher as he pushed himself even harder, chasing down one lead after another. That's why it was a surprise to find him home when she dropped by his place to take care of Hudson.
Chris was crashed out on his couch, a file on his chest, several more piled on the coffee table. Liz could see surveillance photos and writeups from their operatives all over the world peeking out of those files.
She moved as quietly as she could, Hudson at her feet, and reached for the file with one hand as she carefully pulled the afghan on the back of the couch over him with the other. He stirred, his eyes opening despite her best efforts and a slow smile perked his lips. "Hey."
"Hey you," she greeted back. "When did you get back in town?"
"This morning. Sorry I didn't call."
"You've been busy. Any leads?"
He snorted, pulling himself up in a sitting position. "Followed a lead to Moscow, but if it was anything when it came through, the lead was dry by the time we got there. Everything we chase is a dead end. You hear from Reddington?"
"No."
"He could have left us with more. He and my dad are friends, if nothing else."
"I think he gave as much as he felt like he could," Liz murmured, motioning for him to scoot over and give her room to sit.
"Defending Reddington?" Chris asked with a quirked eyebrow.
She shrugged in response. "Just trying to understand him. Every time I think I've gotten inside of his head he does something that throws me."
"He likes playing with people like that," Christopher huffed.
Liz leaned down, pressing a kiss against his lips. It was meant to be quick, but he caught her there, pulling her deeper until she was stretched out on the couch with him, his hands buried in her hair and hers balancing herself so she didn't topple completely on top of him. Finally, when they broke, she saw that the determined mask he had been wearing for the last week was beginning to crack as well. It wasn't just exhaustion that she saw, though there was plenty of that, but fear, worry, and a confusion that likely was a result of the first two. She leaned back down and the kiss was quicker this time. "We're going to find him," she promised softly.
Chris blinked at her. "I'm not-"
"You promised not to lie to me." She settled down against his chest and felt his fingers still combing through her hair. "It's okay, you know. To be worried about him. He's your dad."
"That doesn't matter," he said automatically.
"Of course it does."
Christopher shook his head, his voice struggling a little. "It can't." He squeezed his eyes closed and Liz let him sort through his thoughts for a moment. "He's the head of Halcyon. It's… I have to approach this as an operative. There's no other choice."
Liz frowned a little, studying him. She couldn't claim to have had an exceptionally normal dynamic with Sam and her adopted family growing up, but she was certain the the Hargraves were even more bizarre. It was difficult, even for them it seemed, to tell where the business relationships were and the private family relationships, to the point that she thought the latter was set aside. It explained something of his strange outlook, his difficulties working through certain emotions and connecting with others. In a way, he had always been an operative, living under this mask or that one, with very little time to decide what Christopher Hargrave wanted for himself. He'd tried to find that more recently, and his parents had fought him on it every step of the way. It was no wonder the relationship was as complicated as it was.
"Guess that's kind of screwed up, huh?" he asked softly, piling her out of her thoughts.
"That doesn't mean you're the one that screwed it up," she murmured and nestled down a little more. "You turned out pretty well."
"Thought we agreed not to lie to each other," he teased.
"Dork," she grumbled.
He offered her a thin smile before reaching over to the table as his cell phone buzzed. Liz briefly caught sight of the blocked alert on the caller ID, but his free hand was still playing with her hair, keeping her in place. "Yes?" he answered gruffly.
His expression shifted then. Liz couldn't hear what was being said clearly, but whatever it was had struck a chord. "Yes. Understood. I'll be there."
He ended the call and Liz shot him a curious look. "Who was that?"
"The man that Garrick sold my dad off to. He wants to meet."
Notes: Anyone have a guess on who has Harold Hargrave?
