The Long Game

Part 8

Author's Note: After Anslo Garrick. I'm again playing with time here—I'm thinking we're close to Christmas now and I wanted to address the holiday. I also like placing Don in humiliating circumstances…not sure why besides they are fun to write. Another long-ish chapter. Please leave a review.

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Don Ressler had to admit, there were advantages to a King Size bed that he hadn't thought about until he got his leg blown out. Like that fact that he could have books, magazines, a laptop and anything else he wanted strewn about the bed and still have loads of room to sleep and stretch out with his leg in a cast. Truthfully, he knew the bedroom looked like a slob lived here, but he needed things close by and the only one who was seeing his deritis was Liz, and she didn't seem to care.

Aram and Liz had moved the TV into the bedroom, so he had sports or TV whenever he wanted it, and had grown slightly addicted to the show 24. He'd heard about it from friends but hadn't actually watched the series, now he was two seasons in and going strong. The intensity of the show mimicked how some of their cases went and he identified with Kiefer Sutherland's character who just wanted to do his job and not have catastrophe strike.

Liz had arranged for take out to arrive when she wasn't here, and he had plenty of leftovers or easy to make food in the kitchen for when he needed to make himself something. He at the end of week 3 of bedrest with his leg in a cast that itched and felt heavy every time he moved it. He had filed his report on what had happened in the box with Reddington and things had gone quiet at the Post Office with Red disappearing for the last 3 weeks, him on bedrest, and Cooper answering for the crazy shit that went down, everyone was happy for the break. His mom had offered to come and stay with him, but with the undercover operation in play, and it being better that he stayed here to help their cover, Don had told her he was fine.

Audrey had come to see him in the hospital and had texted him 3 times and called him once since. He didn't know what to do with that, wanting to pack it away with all the other hopes and dreams that were tied to her, Don tried to not make more of it than it was. She was engaged to someone else, seemed happy, and that was it. If ever a book was closed with a woman, it was this one with Audrey. She had moved on and he needed to as well.

Reddington's description of what he wanted before he died was both beautiful and depressing. Beautiful because Don knew in that moment that the man was being totally honest, and he could picture all the wonderful things Red described. Depressing because Don had never slowed down enough to have those things; to sail across an ocean or sit in a garden and read a book. He wasn't sure he even wanted those things, but if he could think of a list, it wouldn't sound as romantic as Red's, but it would be things he hoped to see and do again before he died. Like go to one more Tigers baseball game with his friends from his old neighborhood, spend a day driving around with his brother talking and laughing like they hadn't grown apart over the years, eat his mom's lemon meringue pie one more time, spend a weekend in bed making love to a woman as if time stood still, and be at a barbeque surrounded by all of his friends and family on a warm sunny afternoon. The line 'sleep like I did as a boy' was one he did identify with though. It was a time in everyone's life when they didn't have the cares and worries of an adult, when sleep was pure.

Don looked at his phone as it vibrated on the bedside table. It was time for more pain killers. He reached for the pitcher of water and poured himself a fresh glass as he swallowed back the pills. He had to admit, the numbness that the pills brought him was a nice effect considering the only woman he'd ever loved was going to spend her life with someone else, he was fake married to another married woman that he found attractive, his career had been a joke compounded by Reddington only working with him as a courtesy because he was part of the deal with Liz, and he hadn't had a date in months never mind sex.

Yeah, he was feeling like a total loser when he heard the front door open.

"Just me!" Liz yelled to him.

Don laid with his head back and his eyes closed. Why did she have to join him at the height of his personal pity party? Tonight, he felt more like wallowing in his own self pity, drinking a few beers to enhance the effect of the pain killers, falling asleep in a pile of frittos that he had been saving for such an occasion, and possibly finding some Asian porn to see why Liz thought he would be a fan.

He heard her drop some things on a counter and walk toward the bedroom. He kept his head back and his eyes shut, hoping she'd leave him alone and possibly go back to DC, it was Sunday so she needed to work in the morning.

He felt a fuzzy blanket drop over his body as he lay there in shorts and a t-shirt with his leg propped up on pillows and heard the door to the bedroom shut over, she had obviously believed he was sleeping. Don opened his eyes and listened to her putting things away, some soft pop music playing on the speakers in the living room, and her puttering around their place.

He almost chuckled, the fact that he was calling it 'their place' was ludicrous. Don looked down at his covered body and thought that he should probably spend more time grooming. He had given himself some decent sponge baths and washed his hair in the sink, but his beard had grown in, and he probably should do a load of laundry and change the sheets on the bed again.

It was when he heard chopping sounds that he started to drift off to sleep and went into his usual pain meds stupor for a couple of hours.

"Don," Liz said as she gently shook his shoulder. "You need to eat."

Don woke and wiped at the drool that was coming from his mouth and sat up on his elbows, groggy and confused his hair mussed and pillow marks on his face.

"Hey, sleeping beauty," Liz smiled down at him.

"I know the grubby sweats and drool are a turn on," he quipped as he shifted his body so he was sitting up a little more. "How long have I been out?"

"You were asleep when I got in at 5," Liz said as he handed him the half full glass of water on the nightstand.

Don nodded and took a drink.

She walked from the room and left the door open. He saw her placing two bowls on the table and then going to the fridge and grabbing two beers and placing them at the table as well. He watched her shift back and forth between the kitchen and the table carrying things and wondered if she'd cooked for him; he hadn't actually seen her make anything beyond a sandwich.

Don reached for his crutches and pulled himself up to standing, grabbing fresh underwear, shorts and a hoodie and draping them over his shoulders as he crutched himself toward the master bathroom, his bladder was ready to explode. He hadn't sat to pee since he was a child, but had grown accustomed to the process over the last few weeks when he discovered that standing, peeing, and trying to manage crutches and a leg cast were a recipe for disaster in a small space.

Once relived and wearing fresh clothes, he washed his hands and face and brushed his teeth before he joined Liz in the dining room. It was the least he could do, considering the state he was in.

"Did you make this?" Don asked as he looked at the bowls of pho soup steaming on the table.

"If re-heating is cooking, then yes," Liz chuckled. "I did make us garlic bread. All by myself."

"Wow, thanks," Don said as he maneuvered himself into a chair. "Do you cook at all?"

"No," Liz chuckled. "I am an expert at sandwiches, salads, and all easy sides. I can boil green beans with the best of them, but don't ask me to make the meal that goes with the green beans."

Don chuckled.

"Good to know," he said as he reached for the garlic bread.

"What about you? You've made me a couple meals and you seem pretty good at it," Liz said.

"My parents were shift workers," Don said. "Unless I wanted to eat Robby's three meals all the time…"

"Three meals?" Liz asked, intrigued.

Don chuckled at the memory. "He was big into fitness, and had read somewhere about a perfectly balanced meal so he had three of them and besides breakfast and a sandwich, that's all he ate."

"Wow," Liz said. "What were the three meals? I'm intrigued."

"One was a stirfry of chicken, tons of veg and these rice noddles," Don said with a smile. "The other was chicken with sweet potatoes and beans and the last one was beef and broccoli."

"Okay, not bad meals," Liz hedged.

"Yeah, but try eating them in a three day rotation for your entire life," Don said.

Liz chuckled. "True."

"So, I learned to cook," Don said. "And suffered the wrath of Robby telling me the fat content and unhealthy nature of everything I made. I swear after a while, I looked for crazy dishes that would get his hackles up."

Liz smiled at what she imagined Don would have looked like as a teenager trying to find the most unhealthy recipes to taunt his brother with.

"My three-cheese mac and cheese is legendary," Don smiled at her.

"You'll have to make it for me one day," Liz smiled back.

"If you want your arteries clogged, then…"

"Mine can take a little clogging," Liz smirked.

"Fine," Don said with a dip of his head. "One day I will make it for you."

Liz smiled as him and raised her beer.

He raised his as well.

They clinked glasses.

"I know we haven't spoken about what happened in the box," Liz started as she watched Don drink his beer. "But I'm really glad you are okay. I was worried."

Don swallowed his beer and nodded.

She reached across the table and placed her hand over his. It was a nice gesture, but in the self-pitying mood Ressler was in today, it only reminded him how alone he was.

"Well, I'm fine," Don said as he pulled his hand away and reached or his chop sticks. "You have enough to worry about in your own life."

Liz looked at him confused.

"You're part of my life," she said as she looked at him carefully.

Don swallowed hard and didn't look at her.

She waited for a reaction and, when nothing happened, she picked up her own chop sticks and started to eat.

"I think you should go home for Christmas," Liz said as she ate.

"I'll be fine here," Don said as he watched the snow start to fall outside.

"I won't be here," Liz said. "It'll look weird us not spending the holiday together."

"I'll keep the curtains shut," Don said. "Or I can go back to my place in DC, and it'll look like we went away for the holiday."

Liz sighed next to him.

"I think you shouldn't be alone," she said softly.

"You don't need to feel sorry for me," Don said, not meeting her eyes. "I've spent lots of holidays alone."

Liz sighed and continued to eat. She could clearly see he was in a self-pitying mood and she wasn't going to change that. They ate in silence and she cleared the dishes while he hobbled back to the bedroom. He heard her cleaning up the dishes and heard her speaking on the phone with someone quietly, possibly Tom.

He was sure she was going to make an excuse to leave and go back to DC or work in the other room while he stayed in the bedroom. He had not been the best company tonight and she was probably sick of him. Don was surprised when she popped popcorn and walked into the room in her pjs an hour later. She picked all his crap up off the bed and placed it on their dressers and got into the bed with him and handed him the bowl of popcorn.

"Is it just me or is Kim the most annoying character on this show?" Liz asked as she threw some popcorn into her mouth.

"I kinda wish they'd just kill her already, so she wasn't a distraction for Jack all the time," Don said with a smirk as he reached for the popcorn.

Liz laughed. "Yeah, she hangs around a whole lot longer than you're going to like."

Don looked at her.

"You've seen the show?" Don asked.

"We watched it as it came on," Liz smiled at him. "Live and without being able to binge watch like you are."

Don nodded and looked at the screen.

"And Jack having a direct line to President Palmer?" Don said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "That's bullshit."

"Total bullshit," Liz said as she didn't take her eyes off the screen.

When Liz woke in the morning, she was alone in the large bed and she heard the shower running in the washroom. She looked over at the empty bowl of popcorn still sitting between them and smiled; she had managed to turn his mood around. They had watched 24 until his pain meds had kicked in and, looking at him snoring on the other side of the bed, she had turned off the TV and laid down to sleep herself, knowing that she should go to the other room, but not caring. She had grown used to sleeping with him and there was something comforting about his soft snores and his ability to stay completely on his side of the bed and not once breach the area between them with even a stray toe. Even in his sleep Don Ressler was respectful.

He was getting the cast replaced with a brace today and she needed him to let her take him to the appointment so she could find out what the doctors really said he was allowed to do and not do. She was sure he was probably even getting the cast off early. She was just thinking about stripping the bed of the sheets he'd probably been laying in all week, when she heard a thump and a pierced scream.

"What the…?" She said before she turned and ran toward the washroom flinging open the door to see Don rumpled on the floor of the shower, his cast wrapped in those plastic bags they give you poking out from the glass door and his shoulder dug into the corner.

"What the hell?!" Liz said as she started toward him, the shower was still running at full force and he was scrambling, quite unsuccessfully to get up.

"Don't!" Don yelled as he tried to get up and slipped again.

"Don't be an idiot," Liz said as she walked toward the shower and turned off the water and turned around to reach for a towel, throwing it over his mid section.

"Jesus Christ Keen, don't you listen?!" Don snapped at her.

"Get over yourself," Liz said as she stood with her hands on her hips looking down at him.

Getting up was impossible as he tried to hold the towel over himself, push up on a wet floor, and not have his plastic covered casted leg slide out from underneath him.

"Now, can I help you?"

"Why don't you ask Peter, the manger to…?" Don started.

Liz said nothing and instead stepped into the shower and leaned down over him grabbing his upper body with her arms around his back and shifting him into more of a seated position. She crouched down over him with her bare feet on either side of his covered thighs and sighed.

"Have you ever watched Sex and the City?" Liz asked him as she looked at the bubbles still in his hair not rinsed out.

"What?" Don asked, confused, and wondering why she was practically straddling him.

"In one episode, Miranda throws out her back and Aiden comes to her apartment and finds her naked on the bathroom floor on a bathmat," Liz explained as Don looks at her more and more confused.

"Can you leave?" Don asked her as he tried to preserve some of his dignity and not talk about sex while he's naked on the shower floor with Liz in pjs practically sitting on him.

"The point is, she's embarrassed, he's embarrassed, and they get over it so he can help her, and they can be two grown ass adults about an uncomfortable situation," Liz said as she met his eyes. His face was red, and she could see the embarrassment that gingers can never hide, cascading down his neck and chest as well.

"Fine," he said. "Not that I have much choice."

"That's the attitude," Liz said with a smirk as she stood up and assessed the situation better.

"So, I'm Miranda?" Don asked.

"Yes, and I'm the good-natured Aiden that gets dumped by Carrie a few episodes from now," Liz said as she leaned down and reached for the bag at the top of his cast which happened to be right next to what he was most concerned about keeping covered.

"Excuse me?" Don asked as he put his hand quickly over the towel that was covering him and shifted his parts away from the cast.

"The bag needs to come off, so you have some grip," Liz said as she tore back the bag and shimmied it back down his leg and threw it on the floor behind her. "You're getting it off today anyways."

Don sighed, this was getting worse by the minute.

"Okay," she said as she crouched back down over him. "Hold onto my neck and I'll use the corner of the wall to help get you standing."

Don knew that holding her neck meant he wasn't holding the towel and that was not a good thing, but he was not going to let her show him up and be embarrassed when she seemed not to be.

Don nodded and wrapped his wet arms around her shoulders and, with their face inches apart, she used the corner of the wall behind him to brace him and heave him upright to a standing position. He left go of her as soon as he was upright and tried to snag the towel before it dropped, he didn't. She stood smiling at her accomplishment of getting him upright and quickly stepped away, turning her back so she only caught a glimpse of his naked body before she grabbed another towel, and, without turning, handed it behind her to him. Don promptly wrapped it around his waist and sighed.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely behind her. "It was my first shower and I thought I'd be fine."

"Guess not," Liz chuckled. "Should have stuck with the sponge bath."

"I'll know that next time," Don said, trying to enjoy that the mood had lightened.

Liz walked from the room and left him to rinse his hair and get dressed. She was helping him into the car an hour later so they could get to DC for his appointment to have his cast removed, when he stopped her with a hand gripping her wrist.

"Thanks for everything," he said honestly as he looked into her eyes.

She sensed his emotions were visceral, he was not used to someone taking care of him, even when he was not in the best of moods. Liz could see the emotion on his face; emotion that was probably honest and raw but also embarrassing for him.

She smiled at him, "Well, you're no Dwight Thurmbunker."

Don let out a roaring laugh and Liz knew, they'd be good.

To be continued….