Chapter 3

Gravel crunches underneath Liz's tires as she rolls up the driveway to park in front of the cabin. She's been gone longer than she expected, nearly a week, but formalities with the task force took longer than expected.

She had a long talk with Harold in the car, parked for over an hour as he listened quietly to her explanations and then expressed his feelings, empathy and disappointment and more fatherly affection than she knows she deserves.

(And as the years have gone on, she's become more and more grateful for his steady, warm, solid guidance in her life, the closest thing she knows to Sam.)

Liz also met with each of her fellow agents, explaining everything and apologizing for all she's put them through. She's still on thin ice with Aram, understandably, and she made a point to save Ressler for last. He was graceful in his acceptance of her wish to remain friends and nothing more, but she could tell that she hurt him with her thoughtlessness.

(And it will take a while to stop being awkward between them.)

It's also taken longer than expected to get Agnes settled into a permanent home again, but Liz can hardly fault her for that. Liz's guilt at dragging her poor little girl around the globe has been eating her up inside for months. But her sweet girl - getting so big and mature so quickly - has seemed pacified with a few extra rounds of Princesses, and Liz will happily wear tiaras and pour imaginary tea for as long as it takes to make it up to her.

(Even if it's for the rest of her life.)

Liz shuts off the car, removing her keys and pocketing them with a heavy sigh. Even with all the physical and emotional turmoil she's tackled this past week, she knows she's saved the most difficult and complicated for last.

Red.

So far, she's done a fabulous job of compartmentalizing her and Red's…situation.

(And she has a lot of complicated feelings that she's nowhere near ready to work through on how little sleep she currently has.)

Her only goal right now is to go into the cabin, get Red's decision about returning - whatever it may be - and get out as quickly as possible. And hopefully not run into his…friend. Liz rubs her burning eyes and checks her hair in the rearview mirror before flinging open her door, determined to quit stalling.

It's time.

Liz shuts her car door and heads for the cabin, passing the bench where she spent the majority of her time here in solitude, and heading for the wooden door she knows opens into the kitchen. She hesitates only a moment before knocking and pushing open the unlocked door.

"Reddington? It's me -"

"Why, hello!"

Oh.

Liz freezes in the doorway at the unexpected sight of Anne sitting at the kitchen table, cradling a steaming mug, and looking entirely too happy to see her.

"Raymond's just run upstairs for something, he'll be back down in a minute! Please, come in, Elizabeth!"

"Uh, thank you…" Liz mutters, not feeling particularly thankful as she moves into the kitchen and closes the door behind her.

She was so hoping to avoid this, she hasn't had time to address the conflicting feelings inside her concerning Red's…friend, and she certainly doesn't feel up to starting that process now.

(But the thing that may be bothering her the most is that she hasn't yet found anything to dislike about Anne. So far, she has been…well, wonderful.)

"I'm just here to talk to Reddington. Uh, for work," Liz mumbles, feeling the stupid urge to clarify and oh, she hates this.

A moment of awkward silence follows her words, despite Anne's pleasant expression, before she thinks of something else to say.

"It's good to see you up and about," Liz says honestly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling good!" Anne says cheerfully, an easy smile spreading across her pretty face. "The doctor says I'm healing well!"

"I'm glad to hear that," Liz murmurs, truthful and sincere.

Because, regardless of who she is to Red, she's innocent in this whole thing and Liz is glad she's alright. And, talking to her now, it's easy to see why Red likes her so much. She's friendly and cheerful, a far cry from what he's used to in Liz.

(And Liz is starting to suspect the only thing she doesn't actually like about Anne is that she's everything Liz can't manage to be.)

"Actually," Anne starts, hesitant for the first time. "I'm glad you came back. I didn't get a chance to thank you before."

Stunned, Liz can only blink stupidly at her. "Thank me?"

"Yes," Anne says simply. "You saved my life. And Raymond's too, for that matter."

Liz just shakes her head, every guilty cell in her body violently rejecting any kind of gratitude from this woman. "No, you don't understand, I'm the reason you're currently recovering from a gunshot wound."

"I understand that," Anne says patiently. "Raymond explained it all. But I like to look on the positive side of things, and the way I see it? You saved my life."

(And the fact that she's being so ridiculously kind about it, when Liz knows for a fact that Red won't be, has Liz's skin itching unbearably, unable to accept this woman's thanks under any circumstance.)

"Well, I'm what put you in danger in the first place so, in my eyes? We're even," Liz says stiffly, and Anne's brow furrows in response to her refusal to accept what she's so kindly trying to give her.

(And Liz angrily shoves away her regret at the way Anne's face falls, trying to ignore the illogical sadness at the ridiculous thought that she's disappointed her.)

"I see…" Anne murmurs, glancing down at her hands around her mug, before trying again. "Well, can I get you anything -"

"No, thank you. I'm just here to see Reddington," Liz repeats, suddenly desperate to be anywhere but here. "For work."

Anne frowns at her, looking oddly sympathetic. "Yes, so you've said," she murmurs.

And just when Liz thinks she'll implode from the sheer discomfort, she hears familiar footsteps on the stairs.

"Anne, I found the playing cards, maybe you can manage to finally teach me this infernal game -"

And Liz's heart jumps into her throat as he appears suddenly from around the corner, looking incredibly relaxed in slacks and an untucked dress shirt, the first few buttons casually undone.

(He never wore less than a full three-piece suit for the entire three days she was here, and the skin revealed by the undone buttons is very distracting.)

Red stops short at the sight of her, his jaw working uneasily as he takes her in.

"Raymond, you have a visitor," Anne tells him helpfully, and Red jumps a little, quickly covering with a grateful nod in her direction.

"So, I see," he says brightly, his enthusiasm sounding very fake to Liz's ears. "Elizabeth, what can we help you with?"

Liz swallows dryly before answering, her voice hoarse and emotionless. "I'm here for your decision," she croaks. "Will you come back to the task force?"

(And she's suddenly terrified of his answer, horribly afraid that he'll say no, choose to stay here with Anne instead, and finally abandon her -)

"Yes."

Liz blinks, unable to believe her ears. "You will?" she gasps.

Red moves into the kitchen to pull out a chair and sit down beside Anne, taking her hand on the tabletop. Liz's eyes zone in on the movement, her stomach churning.

"Yes, I will come back. For the blacklist," he clarifies and the pointed words feel like a punch to her throat.

"For the blacklist," she repeats quietly, the words echoing cruelly in her head.

(Not for her.)

"Okay," she mumbles, her throat starting to tighten. "Okay, I'll tell Cooper. I have to go now -" and she's whirling for the door, willing the tears to hold off just until she makes it to the car, but Anne's voice stops her again and she almost screams out of pure frustration.

"Wait, please!" Anne says quickly, turning to Red at the same time. "Raymond, help me up?"

"Anne, are you sure -"

"No, please don't -"

Red and Liz's voices overlap in protest but Anne doesn't listen, pushing up from the table with Red's helping hand, limping carefully to the counter to grab a container, and turning around to offer it to Liz.

"Please take these," she implores. "They're my homemade chocolate chip cookies. We baked them this morning."

And Liz can only gape at her, completely aghast at the prospect of a gift after what she's done -

But Anne seems to understand her feelings even better than she does. "They're not for you," she assures her quietly. "They're for your little girl."

That stops Liz short and her gaze cuts to Red - surprised he would reveal Agnes's existence to a stranger without her consent - but he isn't even aware of her anymore, staring instead at Anne with an expression of plain adoration on his face, and the idea that he and his girlfriend made Agnes cookies has Liz's eyes welling up with inexplicable tears, and she has to get out of here now -

"Thank you," she mumbles, darting forward to grab the container and turning blindly for the door, barely managing not to slam it behind her because this is utter torture of the most horrible kind -

And it's no less than she deserves.