Chapter 1
Liz felt like ages have passed since she knocked on that green door. Was it olive green too, she ended up wondering as she found herself fond of its suiting color. She leaned slowly against the wall, feeling many different kinds of pain throughout her body.
That had been a long day. Too long. An awful long day and the reason she couldn't face being alone on her own. The lone she-wolf she pretended to be and, in fact, wasn't.
It was 22:17 when she threw another glance at her phone, the light coming from the screen stinging her eyes. She had been waiting for more than 40 minutes on the hallway. It definitely wasn't comfortable to sit on the cold floor, but going back to her apartment seemed even more painful. However, she became a bit anxious at the idea of Ressler not being home that late at night. Two hours ago, she left him at the office filing the report on the Umbrella Company.
Liz sighed, pulling her knees closer to her face in comfort. She suddenly felt ill.
"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!", she told herself slapping the top of her head.
Liz assumed he'd be home by now. But what if he went at someone else's home? What if everything that had happened with Aram and Samar broke him too in such ways that he went looking for the company of someone close to him? Someone that wasn't her, his disconnected partner, always keeping secrets and being rudely dismissive of him.
She covered her head with her hands trying to remember his ex, Hannah, from the last time she had ended up in front of the same green-olive door.
"Keen? What's going on?", Ressler voice interrupted her ruefulness thinking and she felt simultaneously grateful and ashamed.
"Uh…", she looked at him in confusion and quickly realized it should probably have been the other way around. He was supposed to be surprised by the woman waiting in front of his door, sitting on the floor in the dark.
But he wasn't. Ressler didn't even wait for her to offer a reply. He already had his keys ready in his hand, so he opened the door and tilted his head in her direction as a sign for her to come in. There had been hundreds of times when they didn't need words to communicate with each other in field or in their office. At that moment, it was one of those times. Liz did just that. She silently followed him inside, shyly taking off her coat as she was walking behind him close enough for him to feel her warm breathing on his back.
Ressler went straight to the kitchen, seated on the counter two glasses and poured more than a socially acceptable quantity of bourbon in each of them. He only glanced at her when he handed over one of the glasses. In a few moves, he was already on the sofa drinking while slackening his tie. She took a seat next to him, in the darkened room, and for minutes there was only comfortable silence surrounding them.
"Aram is a mess", Ressler spoke softly.
Liz realized that was the reason why he got home later than usual. She felt a strange sense of relief knowing it doesn't have to do with Hannah or anyone else.
"He asked me to give him some space… I… Maybe I should have insisted on staying…"
"No, trust me. You did good leaving him alone", Ressler said. He placed his almost empty glass to the table. His freed hand caressed her arm to comfort her for whatever guilt she may have felt. Without even realizing, Liz leaned into his touch as his hand continued to travel up and down the soft fabric of her shirt. When he realized he had been doing that for some time and how natural it had felt to touch her like that, he winced. The bottle of bourbon was a good excuse to put some distance between them.
"So, you kept him company?", Liz asked when he returned with the bottle. Her voice was airy.
"Sorta, yeah. We had a glass of scotch, we talked a bit too about all that happened today."
"It's good he wants to talk", she said.
"Well, that was until he remembered about me and Samar…"
The gulp of bourbon followed shortly. He already regretted saying it.
"Oh, right…", Liz froze in her seat.
She suddenly felt the need of air. She needed pace. She wanted to get off the coach and leave. Not that she didn't know about whatever fling Ressler and Samar had had some years back. She had been baffled when she first found out and pushed herself away from him. The whole story had left a bitter taste in her mouth and, for many times, she thought it was just disappointment that he had crossed hat line with her. But why would she feel so deceived, that was something else. Another feeling carving her from the inside. A sensation she was now experiencing again. After so many years of burying it in a deep and dark corner of her always sad heart.
"How long were you two… an item?", she asked dryly hoping he would not notice her tremor.
Ressler frowned. He didn't know if what surprised him the most was Liz actually thinking that it might had been a thing between him and Samar or the fact that she seemed rather jealous of something absolutely non-existent.
"We weren't."
As Liz kept quiet, Ressler realized his tone was probably too dismissive.
"It was a one time thing we both wished it never happened. There were no feelings, Liz. At least, not for each other."
His turned his head to look at her as she was playing with her glass, gazing at the floor. Not that she could see anything around as he didn't even bother to turn on more than a lamp. Suddenly, he wanted to touch her arm again.
"You didn't ask why I'm here", Liz spoke on a mildly tone.
"I didn't, no." Ressler smiled in the dark without looking in her direction. "I didn't have to. I know why you're here. I know you, Keen."
Chapter 2
Ressler's mind was in an entirely different place than where it should have been. He was aware of the room, of the voices, silhouettes and shadows creeping on the hallway of the Post Office. However, the most he could do was nod in agreement from time to time.
The debriefing took even longer than the interrogation. He managed the whole thing by himself, allowing Keen to deal with something personal. A call followed by a meeting. A disruption from their usual Post Office havoc. He didn't ask her. Now he desperately tried not to read too much into it. But few things were less difficult than that, especially after he spent the past weeks wondering if he managed to destroy everything with his investigation on Katarina.
Ressler shook his head as a no to the question he had been asked, but didn't bother to extrapolate the subject. Aram was more than keen to step in with some technical details on the solarium and the DNA sequence in the twins they saved. So, his mind, for the hundred time during that evening, just went astray and he was telling himself it's not her occupying his mind as a general presence.
Ressler knew well that seeing those children in Rizal's facility crushed Keen. She stayed behind to ensure they are all taken care of. At the end, he found himself in the car, looking at her from the distance. She had been brave. So brave. And she had been maternal. Sweet and caring. And he wanted to get off the car, run to her and tell her that everything will be fine.
But what was that everything? What was everything?
Seeing her in their office later that evening was unexpected. But he also felt something else. Relief. Liz was in her chair, calmly looking through some files. She smiled at him when he entered the room.
"I'm telling you… We'll have to deal with paperwork from this case for weeks…"
Could he be wrong about her? Keen's voice sounded cheerful. Different than it was earlier that day. His inquisitive stare was instantly replaced by a smile. His lopsided half smile.
"Especially if we need to loop in Aram's technical details on the solarium and the DNA stuff. FYI I will pretend I don't know him for a while and don't know what he talks about", Ressler smirked loosening his tie.
Liz kept on smiling wholeheartedly. And he... he just hesitated to ask why the sudden change. She didn't meet Red. Who was it then? He felt something heavy on his chest.
"Do you wanna grab dinner?", she interrupted his train of thoughts.
"Dinner? I guess we can call it that even if it's 10.30 pm."
Liz grabbed their coats from the hanger.
"Come on", she pushed him on the door in a hurry.
"So, what's happening?", he asked bluntly once they were seated at the table in an Irish Pub close to her apartment, waiting for their food to arrive. The bottle of wine was already on the table, both of them deciding they need a drink.
"What do you mean?", Liz replied confused. Half of her glass was already gone, he noticed.
"Look, I know you. This case couldn't have been easy for you, Liz. I know it ended up quite OK and Corinne is out of surgery, but the trauma these children suffered…"
She looked at him intrigued, while enjoying some more wine.
"Whatever happened in the last 2 hours… Nevermind. I don't know what it is, but I am happy to see you smiling", he concluded deciding it is best to leave it as it was. Despite the pressure on his chest.
Still confused, Liz placed her glass on the table leaning in his direction until the were inches apart. Ressler swallowed hard not knowing what to expect from this repostioning, but fully enjoying her closeness. A bit too much, he knew. He also noticed her eyes have become watery and fought back his instinct of pulling her in a hug. He clenched his jaw instead.
"Agnes. She's coming back home", Liz whispered.
Now, there were real tears on her face and his hands just didn't listen to him anymore. He was cupping her face, pulling her closer to him, his chin resting on her head.
"I knew there was something up, but this… Liz, this is great!"
They stayed like this for a little while. She kept sobbing at his chest and Ressler knew it was not all happiness. Liz simply didn't feel like letting go, she needed that embrace. That feeling. To feel safe. To feel protected. No matter what. At some point, she realized the last person to hold her like that was, in fact, him. It happened before Tom died. Before she almost died. She buried even deeper her head in his shirt. Both times, his aftershave reminded her of freshly cut grass. She was trying to remember the first time she made this association and her heart became heavy.
"Two burgers and truffle fries?", an abrasive voice interrupted them.
It took Ressler a few moments to process the words. He nodded at the table and the waiter placed the tray with a rushed move and clear intention of making his presence noticed.
Liz let go of Ressler, whipping her tears.
"Sorry…"
"Don't be."
"I think I ruined your shirt."
"I can spill some wine on it if it makes you feel better…", he chuckled.
"God! I have so many things to do… Prepare her room, buy her dolls."
"I can help you with that", he said taking a few fries from their shared ball.
"So you like dolls…", she teased and he laughed wholeheartedly.
"You can say that, I guess. But I am also an expert in painting apartments. We can do something fun for her."
"She likes purple", Liz smiled at him.
"Are you gonna tell me what it is, at least?", Liz asked Ressler. He was just done painting Agnes' bedroom and was cleaning up the brushes.
"You're worse than a child, Keen. Just be patient, will you?"
Liz sighed. To keep herself busy from the boxes standing in her living room, one over another, she started to set up the table.
"I'm liking more and more this dusty purple", she said loud enough for him to hear from the bedroom.
They debated a lot on the right nuance. Agnes liked royal purple, but that was to dark to go on the walls, so Liz decided to paint the room pink. Ressler disagreed. The little girl wanted purple, there had to be something that fits her wish. So for almost a week, he searched for painting samples until he found the right color. Ressler told himself it's the right distraction from the dossier they still haven't found and the whole Anna McMahon situation. Also, it was a distraction from Liz. Ironically or not, he ended up spending more time with her.
They weren't that hungry, but they enjoyed the wine in silence.
"Is this Bordeaux from Reddington?", Ressler asked.
"How do you know that?"
"You told me once he was bringing you good wine whenever he dropped by unexpectedly."
She have a sad smile to give him.
"Sorry, I should have not… I know you two have a complicated relationship these days."
"I guess you could say that. We… make it work. But I do miss Dembe".
"I know..."
Ressler nodded. He didn't even notice how his hand nonchalantly travelled towards Liz, found a place on her fragile shoulder and started softly rubbing it, drawing small circles with his fingers. These instincts of him he could not tame. Not anymore.
And Liz gave herself to the touch, leaning her head to the other side. Allowing him more space to explore her exposed skin. Like a prey she was. Her neck flourished to be felt. And what Ressler wanted was to place feather like touches on it. A crease of soft kisses. His bottom lip. The tip of his tongue. He swallowed hard as his index finger started its pace - up - to her neck, to her jaw. Her ear lobe. He saw her shivering unresisting his delicate touches.
And then, the mysterious boxes he had brought tumbled down, making both of them startle.
"What the hell?...", Ressler jumped off the chair to check the mess.
"Oh, no! Do you think anything break?", Liz followed him worried.
"Didn't I ask you to leave these alone?", he sighed dramatically.
"I didn't do anything…"
"I know you, Keen. You tried to have a look inside. Ruin the surprise…"
"I didn't!", Liz tried very hard not to smile. "OK-OK, I did. But I still don't know what's in it", she was now smiling at him.
"It's a princess castle", he said as he started to unbox the content ensuring nothing had been broken.
"That's lovely! Agnes loves princesses and fairies!", Liz cheered slapping her hands.
"I know, Keen", he smirked. "Come, now you have to help me!"
Chapter 3
Ressler had been seated at the table for some time, reading news and looking for some information on a secure laptop Dembe left for him. Dreadful pictures of them as fugitives were shown on the screen. Outlaws. Villains. The safehouse Reddington brought them to after they escaped the Post Office was making him feel claustrophobic. He heard steps from the corridor, but didn't bother to look up. He was angry and he was deceived of how things turned out. But what hurt him the most was the general lack of hope. In their shared room, Aram had a meltdown earlier that night, worse than when Samar had left. Ressler felt more than useless, unable to ensure him they will make it through. He wanted to, but felt wrong. Expectations were too much of a heavy weight.
"Couldn't sleep?"
Liz heard him going to the common room about 20 minutes earlier. She would recognize his steps in any corner of the world. A stoic, determined, reliable walk. Just like him. He was a force of nature. She also heard Aram sobbing and Ressler whispering to him they would do everything to make the plan work. Maybe it was just easier for her. She had been a fugitive before, hiding in obscure places, feeling alone and hopeless. It was the same now, only that… She knew she wasn't on her own. And she had an anchor.
"How could anyone?", Ressler replied.
Liz pulled the chair next to him and looked at the screen for a few moments, reading the headline. However, she realized quickly that was the last thing she wanted to see. It was him she wanted to check on. Her fingers softly brushed his left wrist where the handcuffs have been. The bruise broke her heart a bit.
"I can't believe her… That woman, what she is doing…"
"Don't worry, Keen. We'll get her. Reddington's plan might work…"
"I just…"
Liz was gazing at his hands. The soft, bright skin felt warm under her touch. She felt warm inside.
"What you did today to get us out of there… that was very brave", Ressler said. He wasn't smiling tough, making Liz realize she would have felt more reassured to see his signature half smile. Just for a second or two.
"I did what I had to do…", she replied modestly.
"Don't cut yourself short, Keen. That was one hell of a plan", he rotated his head for a brief second to look at her, then returned his eyes to the screen and kept scrolling various web sites. His left hand didn't move.
Last thing Liz wanted was to stop caressing his hand. She needed that touch. A lifeline.
"Do you think it will work? The plan…"
"It has to, Liz. We need it to work." Ressler exhaled deeply and leaned back in his chair. Now he was looking in her direction, completely oblivious of anything else around him. Anything but Liz. Her fingers laced with his. He squeezed it softly and used the grip to pull himself up, closer to her. Close enough for Liz to feel his breath on her forehead.
"We'll make it work. We always do. Yeah?", his voice was almost a whisper. Maybe a promise.
She nodded, locking eyes with him. Hands still holding.
"I know you're thinking of Agnes, Liz. I am too. But all this will be over and you'll soon have princess dolls tea parties in her purple room."
Liz again nodded, but this time with tears in her eyes. Ressler leaned a few inches so he could rest his forehead on hers.
"Don't cry…"
"I'm not…" Her sunk voice said otherwise.
"I know you are, Liz."
Ressler let go of her hand so he could wipe the tears on her face. The softest caress.
"And I know that if you do that, you'll have a terrible headache. So, just trust me when I say everything will be OK. Yeah?"
Liz was the first one to wrap her hands around his neck, but he mirrored the gesture half a second after. When they pulled apart some minutes later it was just because the chairs were uncomfortable. There was a moment of awkwardness as they stood in front of each other. Not touching. Not holding hands. Not doing any of the things they felt like doing. But missing every little thing about the other.
"It's late…", he said not taking the eyes off of her.
Chapter 4
Liz didn't know when the madness resumed. The On/Off switch had always been out of her control. And almost nothing was left for her to control. To feel in control. Not on the outside nor on the inside. With the wine glass in her hand she was pacing around the living room, trying to remember the last discussion she had with Reddington. No matter how hard she had tried to give different meanings to his words, there was nothing that she could link to a potential trip to Paris. Or to Katarina. Or to whatever hell had now been unleashed all over her. Over them.
She checked on Agnes sleeping in her beautiful purple room before dialing him. But she quickly hung up after the first ring remembering something. Aram and his dating app. And Ressler pushing him to walk that path and finally find someone.
She winced. Wine was a better idea than dealing with whatever made her nervous envisioning the two men out at night in some bar, detached and voluble. She rapidly told herself to just give up and drank whatever wine she had left in her glass.
Not a minute later, the phone rang flashing his name.
"Ressler…", she answered hesitating to do it at first. A can of worms that didn't need to be opened.
"Everything fine, Keen?"
"Everything fine, sorry. I shouldn't have called you. I realized in the middle of dialing it's actually quite late."
"Not that late…", he said and she could see him stern, trying to decipher whatever was going on at the other end of the call.
"I was wondering if there's something we've missed. About Reddington…"
"I know you're worried, Liz. But our hands are tied. Dembe was here earlier, no news for him too…"
"You're still at the office…"
"Where did you think I am?", Ressler gave a sort laugh and she, out of the blue, felt like smiling.
No night out. No date. Her heart started pounding. That damn heart not knowing its place.
"Liz? Are you sure everything is fine?", he asked worriedly.
"Is it ever? But now…", Liz stopped pacing and leaned on the window.
"We're gonna get through this, Liz…"
"We?", she suddenly smiled. A warm smile. The "we" that left her out of breath earlier that day.
"Yes. You and me always find a way out. Same like Reddington does it."
"You know it's late, right?"
"Not that late, Keen. This paperwork still needs to be done", he snickered. "Even yours!"
"I should probably leave you to it then."
"Probably, yeah…"
Why was it so hard to end the call she didn't know. But she felt his hesitation too. That serene silence installed between them. Soothing as a sea.
Not too much time had passed until she was again pacing in her living room. Same glass in her hand. Same bottle of wine on the counter, only that now it was almost empty. Then, the knock on the door, he getting inside the apartment. All a blur.
Ressler was talking. He was saying something about Aram, about Cooper. He was apologetic about Dominic and their investigation and the demons they had summoned. He was worried, uneasy, sad. Still a blur in her mind and around the room.
"Ressler!", she heard herself saying. Louder than she intended. His gaze moved on her. His inquisitory frown. His steps closed the gap between them.
Liz wanted to say she was scared. However, the thought of being that vulnerable sickened her. She felt like she was out of order same as an old elevator with a sign hanging on its metal door. Ruined like a stained shirt never to be worn again. Shuttered like a watch that would never show the correct time. How could she ever be seen for what she really was if the only constants in her life were lies, fear and inherited monstrosity?
"You're scared." Ressler's tone was mild as honey. "I know and it's hard not to be."
She tried to speak, but failed. No word found its way out. Not even a mumble, not even a sigh. With an imperceptible gesture, Ressler raised her chin and their eyes met, making Liz feel less broken.
Chapter 5
There was no one in the world who could smile for minutes, oblivious of anything else around him, whistling some obscure pop song and childishly praise every little aspect of life like Aram was since he had started to date Elodie. She was a beautiful, intelligent and quite brave woman. But she was also someone with a very complicated personal life. Liz knew how much of a burden that was. For her, for anyone around her. And Aram deserved better. Or, at least, easier.
Liz was too afraid to ask him about real feelings. Not even after the 2nd shot of tequila they've just served. The words were there, but the question never made it out.
"So sex is that good, huh?", Ressler's words sounded rather as a comment than a question. Liz glanced at him, biting her lip as he was emptying what must had been his third shot of tequila. Her eyes lingered a second too much on the lemon wedge he was about to bite. Insatiably.
"That's… Uhmm… private?", Aram faltered while Ressler cockishly smiled.
"Don't worry, Aram. Nobody's judging", he added.
Aram gazed at Ressler, then at Liz. His smile had now faded.
"I just wish it was more simple than this…"
"I think you should just carpe diem… See where this takes you next." She sounded reassuring enough to capture another smile from their favorite friend and colleague.
After all, even very complicated women deserve to be loved. Elodie and her included.
Under the table, Ressler's and Liz's legs were carelessly intertwined. His knee resting on her thigh. From time to time, he slowly swung it from left to right, bringing it back to its initial place, that unnerved spot of hers. That brief and gentle stroke of his became her only point of focus. It reminded Liz of a pendulum.
"Liz doesn't like jalapenos", she suddenly heard Ressler's voice.
"You don't?", Aram seemed intrigued of the matter-of-factly reply coming from Ressler.
"I really don't…", Liz also spoke and smiled at the two men, doing her best to hide her brief moments of absence. To hide how lost she allowed herself to be. Lost in a touch that could mean nothing. Or could mean everything.
"Ok, so no jalapenos poppers. I'll see what other snacks they have. We definitely cannot keep drinking like this on an empty stomach", Aram concluded heading towards the bar.
Since the techie was seated between Liz and Donald, one of them had to move to let him out of the booth. Donald did just that and, after Aram had got up, he gingerly took his place. Liz leaned into him:
"Can I ask you something?"
Their thighs were now touching. But he didn't feel the need to swing his leg.
"Always. And anything", Ressler answered.
"What you said to Aram yesterday, to lie about being on assignment…", Liz asked hesitantly.
"Yeah?"
Ressler didn't have a clue where the conversation was going, so he allowed her to continue while he watched her lips shyly moving. He felt a strange thirst in his mouth.
"Did you ever use it as an excuse?"
"I did, yes", Ressler softly chuckled. "But not to salvage a relationship. It was quite the opposite."
"To get out of a relationship?", her big blue eyes betrayed how surprised she was of the answer. He didn't know why he felt this strange urge of apologizing to her.
"Mhmm. Not a relationship, necessarily. I just…"
"You what?", she continued locking eyes with him.
"Does it matter?", his tone became less joyful than it had been moments ago. It was almost pensive.
"It does, yeah", Liz insisted, her eyes never leaving his face.
"Why?", he challenged.
Liz didn't know how to phrase the answer. Instead, she kept gazing at him.
"I'd never lie to you. I hope you know that", Ressler said tilting his head even more. Her hair was smelled like the ocean.
"I know", she whispered and sighed so softly that her warm breath tickled the sensitive skin on his neck.
"Good…"
"Uhmm, guys…", Aram's voice startled them. They were both now looking at the man who returned empty handed from the bar. "So Elodie called, I kind of…"
"Just go, Aram. And have fun…", Ressler smiled at him.
Aram didn't wait too much until he was out of the door, leaving the two of them alone. There was no awkwardness there, between them. They enjoyed the soft silence, the static air between them.
"You don't seem to think Elodie is the right person for Aram", Ressler said and Liz snickered thinking of how well he knows her.
"I don't have anything against her, it's just that... it's too complicated."
"So what?"
There was more space between them than before and Liz hated that. Their thighs were still glued together. This made Liz want more contact. More of him. With an unexpected gesture, she placed her hand over his, drawing small lines. Ressler breathed heavily.
"I love that you're so supportive of Aram. You've been such a great friend for him", she murmured into his frame making Ressler feel electricity in his veins.
"Uhmm… guys…" Aram voice interrupted again. Out of the nowhere. "My wallet… Uhmm… Fell down under the table… Right... there..."
Ressler quickly dropped under the table to grab it, already missing the warmth of her hand and the stare of her eyes.
"Elodie is here she offered to drive us all home… If you want."
There was a moment of silence, before Elodie appeared in sight too. She was smiling at them as friendly as she could:
"Hi! Did you tell them? No strange or rude or annoying Uber driver for you tonight! I'll drive you all home."
Chapter 6
Ressler was sure he could read Liz as an open book. That until she gave him a look he could hardly understand. Her eyes flustered. Her lips tight. Her hands in desperate need of a grip.
He kept on reading the same line of a report he was drafting. It had to be the third time. He was seeing the words, but his mind wasn't complying. So, he leaned back on his chair, giving up this task while his eyes travelled to the window towards the War Room. Aram and Liz were there and seemed to be having a blast, eating cupcakes while looking at various photos on the system and exchanging views on them. All of them were working on the same case, but it was one of he few situations when their views differed and not because of their conflicting relation with Red. Cooper saw this as an opportunity to give Park a chance to get in the field under his wing and task Liz with a detailed profiling of their blacklister.
A few hours earlier, he and Park uselessly talked to the man linked to their case. It was an infertile conversation and Park had been rasped the entire time. Ressler knew she wanted to prove herself, but he wasn't a fan of her constant impatience and fret. So, he ended up spending more time talking to her afterwards trying to understand the root of this behavior that would trigger even more enmity from their colleagues. Ressler knew some of the agents weren't quite fond of Park. Aram included. And that was only her first week on the job.
"Agent Ressler, sir, hi!", Park jumped on her chair when he noticed him in the War Room. He nodded in her direction and grabbed a cupcake from Aram's desk.
"Good cupcakes, Aram", Ressler said doing his best to ignore Park who was already behind him, as a lingering shadow on a sunny afternoon. He took a bite from the cake before admitting that there were zero chances to avoid her. Then he asked in an even tone and without looking at her at all: "Any breakthroughs?"
"Not really", said Aram.
"Still working on the profiling part. We have almost no insights or data to process. We're also waiting for the CIA report to do a cross-check with the locations we have from Reddington", Liz said looking in his direction, but with a strange glimmer in it. Her eyes weren't on him, tough, which made him feel somehow strange and insecure. It took Ressler a second to realize that Liz was gazing at Park, who was standing next to him, a bit too close, as if she had been waiting for something. Something from him.
"Agent Ressler, I think I may have something for you", Park spoke up quite loudly and with an unmatchable level of enthusiasm that made Aram roll his eyes.
Ressler swallowed the rest of his cupcake to avoid giving an immediate reply. Last thing he wanted was to encourage her behavior, even if he was very appreciative of her dedication.
"Maybe we should also call Cooper", Liz said and Ressler could have sworn there was some tension in her voice.
"Aaaaa, sure", Park said in disappointment.
"Can you call him, Park? Thanks", Ressler asked her hoping it will put some distance between the two of them.
"She's really keen on impressing the boss…", Aram mumbled, but the intention was clearly to be heard and not just by Liz who immediately smirked at him.
Park's lead proved to be good enough for them to move ahead the investigation. A few hours later, Ressler returned to the Post Office with the cuffed suspect and an overly excited Park talking to him uninterruptedly:
"We do make a great team, the best team! I can't believe it how you made him confessed. And how you noticed the file on the desk. It's just… It's wow! You are really a legend, Agent Ressler! This needs celebrations! Oh, and it's on me. Beer? You like, beer, right?".
That was when Ressler noticed the first of Liz's odd glimpse. A confused look in her eyes. She was silent during the debriefing that followed. No follow-up questions from her, no additional comments. Silence. Eyes flustered. Her lips unmoved.
Could it be? No. Liz was not the jealous type. But the simple thought of it put a smile upon his face. He felt smug. He felt brave.
When he returned from Cooper's office where he had spent more than time than usual just to allow himself a small break from Park's enthusiasm, he found Liz preparing to shut down her laptop. The dim light made her eyes sparkle like candle lights. It made his heart skip a beat.
"Leaving already?", Ressler asked the obvious. He had been missing her and that was not a thought he easily accepted at first. He missed her company in field. Their sync. Their chats during the drive to whatever destination they had. The glances, the smiles and lip biting.
"Mhmm", she nodded, not looking at him at all.
She put on her coat and collected some papers spread around the desk. Ressler stepped a bit closer, watching her nervous moves. He licked his lips, trying to content a smile. That smile. That smug.
"I think it's cute", Ressler softly said.
"What is cute?", Liz asked unamused.
Ressler took another step, reaching out to the hem of her desk.
"It's cute that you're jealous. On Park", his tone was still soft, but an ounce more ludic than it had been before.
Liz raised her head from the files so she can roll her eyes at him as statement. However - before she could say anything else, he smuggled a file from the desk, from right under her hand, and looked at it.
"Give me that", she stretched her hand to retrieve the paper, but he moved it further away. Smile still on his face. Smug still there too.
"Mad at me, Keen?", Ressler shamelessly continued his teasing.
"I'm not mad at you." Her tone said otherwise.
"OK. You ain't mad." Ressler tried to control his voice so he wouldn't sound too jested. But he just couldn't stop grinning: "Still jealous then?"
Ressler knew, of course, she wouldn't reply to that. However, he realized it was simply pure pleasure to tease her, to provoke her, to have this playground between them and explore it. Liz, the book he knew by heart had surprised him with yet another page. Perhaps another chapter. He came around the desk, stopping inches away from her. He gave her the piece of paper, this time without any taunting. But when she reached for it, he didn't let go of it. Instead, he tilted his head slowly and whispered:
"I'm not gonna kiss you, Liz."
Their eyes instantly locked. She couldn't hide the surprise. Hearing the words. His breath was still tickling her ear. She desired that kiss. That much she knew.
"Because when I'm gonna kiss you", Ressler continued his whispering, "it's not gonna be just to stop you from being jealous over nothing."
He softly kissed her on the cheek and with a smile he headed over the door.
"Ressler!", she called for him on a mild voice as he was about to exit the room.
"Yeah?", he stopped without turning his head. But he was smiling. She knew he was. That half of smile. That smug still teasing her.
"What if I kiss you first?", Liz felt brave enough to raise the stakes.
He turned on his heels with a 180 degrees move. His smile was everything to Liz. A playful smile. A confident smile and she couldn't help but returning a grin. She bit her bottom lip as a way to control herself.
"Be my guest, Keen", he said flirtatiously. "Be my guest...", he repeated that walking backwards to the elevator, their eyes still locked. Their smiles still on.