If This Was Meant For Me…
A/N: Spoilers for 5x18 & mention of 2x13. Well this was a chapter and it was being a bitch. I wanted to go full throttle and had to hold back. I've ignored most of the plot and only included this ep for the movie theatre scene. I will address Jennifer in the next chapter.
I wanted to make this whole thing believable, that this was what was going on behind the scenes but then by the end of S5 there's so many secrets. I've sat on this for a week. I'll be honest, I'm having issues with my impostor syndrome so i think they'll come as and when.
Song is: Fear of Water - SYML
Why Does It Hurt So Much…
Liz sat crumpled on the floor for a long time, the ever present tingling and wetness between her thighs, the only reminder he had been there. Her mind reeled but she also felt muted. She kept seeing the want in his face, the look of dark desire in his eyes. She shifted slightly coming back to herself, rubbing her jaw, phantom imprints tingling where his fingers had been. She got up stiffly stepping into the darkness of the room, she winced as something stung her bare foot. She hobbled toward a light source the movement slicing deeper. She flicked on the lamp, she'd forgotten about hurling the glass. She sat on the couch, hooking her ankle over her bent knee. She inspected the cut, pulling a small shard clear of the wound. She hobbled to the bathroom, her fingers fumbling with the supplies in the medicine cabinet. She found what she needed, the blood oozing against the tile. She barely felt it as she cleaned and dressed the wound. She stood up, wiping the blood from the floor. She washed her hands, staring in the mirror at the hollow empty person that stared back. She stripped off her clothes, sudden frustration filling her chest, she hurled them into the wash basket, pulling on last night's pyjamas.
She crawled into bed, the coldness of the sheets almost unbearable against her skin. His absence hit her then, the faint scent of his cologne lingering around her. She couldn't seem to escape it. Wetness seeped into her clean underwear, she crossed her legs rubbing them together, trying to ease the sensation he'd left there. She rolled over, into his pillow, burying her face into it. Her heart ached yet she felt empty, hollowed out like he'd taken her with him. She could feel his lingering touch, on her face, her neck, in her hair, between her legs. She felt like she was burning then, the points where his body had connected with hers searing. She ached for him to come back, to finished what he'd started. She wanted to pull him against her, feel his lips against her neck, his tongue in her mouth, his hands grasping her hips, sliding up her back. She wanted to wrap her legs around him and feel him enter her, filling this emptiness that now consumed her. She turned over, scrunching her eyes shut. She lay still in the half light of the room, her eyes open staring at the ceiling. Emotion bubbled up inside her but she couldn't seem to summon the will to let it out. Tears prickled at the edges of her eyes but would not fall, the lump in her throat making it ache unbearably. When the alarm went off she was still awake, she lay still for a moment longer, wondering how she would ever continue with her day. How she could face him now but she also knew she had to.
She sat in Selma's office later that morning, knowing she would have to face Red later that day. Dembe had already made contact with the time and place, her belly dipped when she saw the message, a tingling sensation running up her spine.
'How are you feeling this morning?' Selma asked, noting her subdued stance, her deflated body slumped back into the chair. All the fire of yesterday having left her.
'Thanks for seeing me, I know it was short notice…' She murmured lowly. Selma nodded, a smile on her lips. In truth she wasn't sure how she wasn't going to talk about what happened, she wasn't sure she even knew. It seemed in her mind like she imagined it but then she knew the apprehension she felt over seeing him later was very real. She was beginning to think this was a mistake, she couldn't find the words to explain, she couldn't even cohesively think about it. She felt frustrated by the whole thing, the fact he clearly wanted her but left anyway. The fact he'd allowed her to continue with this delusion that he was her father, when now it couldn't possibly be true.
'I think… I should go…' She voiced, she was beginning to feel that familiar tightness in her chest. Selma frowned,
'What's going on for you Liz?' She asked, watching her sit up in the chair and place a hand over her chest.
'I… Don't know… I just think its better if I go…' She got up hastily, dropping her beanie to the floor. 'I'm sorry…' she muttered, picking up the article of clothing. Selma rose and placed a hand on her arm.
'It's okay… If that's what you need. I have some spaces later if you need or maybe tomorrow.' She frowned sensing the younger woman's growing apprehension. Elizabeth nodded heading for the door in a rush.
She sat in her car outside the movie theatre where he had chosen to meet. She thought it an odd location, apprehension pitting her stomach with knotted nerves. As she entered the deserted theatre, she was never more grateful for the low light it offered, it was then she realised why he had chosen it. He wouldn't have to face her directly. She could see the top of his head as she passed Dembe at the door, giving him a nod as he munched popcorn. She sat down next to him, her belly flipping sending tingles up her spine. He reach over grabbing a container of popcorn and offering it to her.
'I'm not in the mood for a matinee.' She told him, keeping her tone light despite her growing nerves. She felt that pull between them, making her want to curl into him. Tell him to forget everything, she didn't care anymore but he wouldn't look her, staring ahead at the screen in front of them.
'I have a lead on Garvey.' He informed her, his voice low and gravelly, she turned her gaze on him,
'I had a lead on Garvey. You made him disappear.' She kept her voice low but light, it sounded fake to her ears.
'They put Rita Hayworth's picture on the side of an atom bomb.' He deflected, 'Talk about a femme fatale.'
'How does it feel being a walking anachronism?' She asked, looking over to him again,
'Righteous.' He replied, looking away to the side of him to retrieve something. He handed it to her, her belly dipping as his fingers brushed hers, goosebumps sliding up her arms. Her head swam for a moment. She pulled the book closer, trying to focus.
'The port manager's ledger?' She questioned, turning towards him again before turning back to read it's contents. She held the book close to her face, squinting slightly in the darkened room.
'The port manager who was the go-between for the Nash Syndicate and their supplier in Afghanistan.' He explained, pointing with a finger to a name that appeared a few times but his eyes remained focused on the screen. 'Zarak Mosadek. You'll see his name several times in there. He runs an international opium operation in the Helmand Province.' She watched him finish, his eyes fixed to the screen ahead.
'He's your lead?' She murmured, her face to him but her eyes elsewhere. Her head leant back against the rest of the seat. It was warm in the theatre, the low light and his presence was making her feel lightheaded and sleepy.
'You didn't have a lead, Elizabeth. You had an unreliable witness. A witness who says he saw what he saw….' He told her, his voice holding a soothing cadence.
'Garvey murdering another cop…' She interrupted trying to focus.
'From across an alley through a window. No jury would convict based on his testimony.' He continued in a low monotone, almost in a trance as he stared at the screen.
'You make it sound like you did me a favour.' She was facing him, taking in his profile as she spoke. He was so focused on the screen, never once looking in her direction.
'I told you Garvey isn't afraid of legal threats. He's afraid of losing power. The ledger tells us how to take it from him.' He told her, his tone still low.
'Through this Mosadek?' She asked, picking up the ledger and opening to read the information again before looking back to him.
'Garvey is a drug lord masquerading as a cop. If we get leverage over his supplier, we get leverage over him. Once we have that, you'll have your revenge.'
'After you get the duffel bag.' She spoke in an undertone, looking up toward the screen.
'Must be nice.' He murmured softly, his focus remaining on the screen.
'What?' She asked, turning back toward him.
'Not having anything precious you want to keep to yourself.' She shook her head momentarily. Looking away, what if she did. She had Selma after all and he didn't know about that. She had this attraction towards him and while he knew, she wasn't sure if he really knew what that meant for her.
'If I do, it's not the same…' She said then, earning her his attention at last. Their eyes met, his face impassive. She resisted the urge to squirm as his eyes took in her face, flicking to her lips. Her belly dipped, shooting warmth between her thighs. She swallowed, turning back toward the screen before he did.
'Tell me about Mosadek.' She whispered as he turned back.
After she left he was still, closing his eyes the scent of her still in the air surrounding him. He'd ached to touch her, reach out and run his fingers up her thigh to the warm wetness he knew would be awaiting them. Her proximity was stirring his arousal, he'd grappled with the conversation to stay on task. He remained impassive, his mask in place although he felt it slip when he'd turned to look at her, her pupils dilating under his gaze. His own eyes sliding to her lips before he could stop himself. He saw her swallow, her body betraying her composure. Before then he dared not look at her, he kept his focus on Rita. He deserved an award for that performance, not looking at her helped and he was grateful she hadn't wanted to 'talk'. He would be in a better mood later when they were on their way to Paris, although how he would remained focused for seven hours in a confined space, he didn't know but the company of other's would help.
She refused the invite to Paris, preferring to stay behind to work with Aram. Seeing it as her way to get a lead on Garvey, if they could procure the Director of Police's IA report. She also couldn't think of anything more awkward than sitting in a plane with him for seven hours. How could she possibly sit there with this intensity between them? She hadn't called him but allowed Ressler and Samar to deliver the news. She saw the call come in and immediately clicked her phone off. He could barely even look at her at the movie theatre so he could wait.
She'd managed to squeeze in an hour with Selma, after the stakeout with Aram. She'd planned to go back to Pete's Tavern at closing to speak to the woman Garvey had embraced. She needed to get some of these thoughts out of her head even if she had no idea how to explain it.
'You said on the phone something happened between you and Mr Reddington?' Selma asked as Elizabeth settled in the chair. She nodded, her pale face frowning back at the doctor.
'I'm pretty sure… Well, sure sure that he is not my father…' She huffed out a breath trying to cohesively sort the thoughts floating around her head. The frustration returning.
'Okay?' Selma watched the woman open her mouth to speak and then close it again. 'You're having trouble finding the words to explain?' She asked seeing the conflict within the younger woman.
Elizabeth nodded, 'I wasn't… Doing well last night… He was the one who took my witness for Singleton's murder…' She murmured unable to meet Selma's eye.
'Why would he do that?' Selma asked, watching her fiddle with the edge of her coat.
'To serve his own agenda…' She swallowed looking down for a moment. 'I confronted him, maybe more forcefully than I should have but he's so damn secretive and confusing and… After what we talked about last time and then the betrayal, I didn't handle it well…' She finished, her eyes meeting Selma's.
'I think in the face of all that, it's understandable you'd react… Did you have a panic attack?'
'No, not then. When I found out but a mild one but I think that just set the scene because I just bottled it and then confronted him and I didn't let it out. I still haven't… I feel like I can't, like it just won't come out… He came over after that…' She paused and Selma was quiet waiting for her to continue. 'Things got heated…' A blush crept over Elizabeth's features, 'I'd had a couple of drinks and waited for him because I knew he would come. I actually made him flustered which was new but it made me feel… More confident?'
'He felt threatened?'
'No… I threw a glass at him and then he just put that mask back on, like he always does and I never know where I stand or what he's feeling. He was infuriating… I hit him, rather I think he let me hit him.'
'You hit him? Just the once?' Selma asked, her eyebrows raised.
'Yes because then he stopped me and…' She looked up sheepishly, her blush deepening. She bounced her leg nervously,
'I'm just going to say it all because if I stop I don't think I'll be able to start again…' She admitted quietly, her eyes downcast.
'Okay, I'm not here to judge, remember?' Selma reassured, a smile playing on her lips.
Elizabeth reached over and took a glass of water off the table, she took a sip holding the coolness of the glass in her hands. She cleared her throat gathering the courage to confess what happened, like she was at confessional. She took a deep breath, sighing it out.
'After I hit him, I went to take another swing… He pulled me into him and pushed me up against the wall to stop me…' She watched Selma's face darken, a frown falling across her brow.
'No, not like that… He didn't hurt me… He was just… Stopping me? Pinning me, one of his legs came between mine and he held my arms…' She ground her jaw, ' He knows if he touches me, it will calm me…' Selma cocked her head to the side, trying to follow.
'I was… It was… Intense… I saw this look on his face, this wanting, this need and I knew, he would never look at me like that if he were my father.' Her blush crept to her ears, she forced herself to look up at Selma to gage her response. The woman was looking down for a moment but her face was clear of judgement.
'And he knew… He knew I was feeling the same way. I think it shocked him. Hell it shocked me…' She admitted, their eyes meeting as Selma looked up.
'That you were feeling the same way?' Selma asked, holding the blue of Elizabeth's eyes.
'Yes. I mean it was obvious, I couldn't hide it…' she blushed again, she could hardly tell the woman she marked against his leg. Just the memory of it left her breathless and wet between her thighs.
'What was said between you?'
'That's the thing, he didn't say anything. I didn't say anything but I know he wanted more…' She admitted then, the blush spreading across her features.
'But nothing happened?' She asked, writing on her notepad.
'No. His self restraint is something else. He just left… And now it's been ignored…' Her tone hardened, the frustration apparent.
'You wanted something to happen?'
'I think I was too shocked to do anything but yes, if he had kissed me or done something other than give me that look, I would have responded. I don't think in that moment I would have been able to stop myself…' She confessed, her tone holding some embarrassment.
'You saw him this morning?' Selma checked remembering something from their phone call.
'Yes but it was about work and he wouldn't even look at me.' She said, a frown creasing her brow.
'Are you going to bring it up?' Selma asked.
How could she?
'I don't know if I can, I don't know if he wants that. He wouldn't even look at me, he's so confusing…' Her voice broke slightly, she swallowed not ready to let out the tears yet.
'How are you feeling about it?'
'Frustrated…' Her tone expressing the fact. She fiddled with the edge of her coat, her face downcast.
'Sexually?' Selma watched the younger woman freeze, a blush creeping across her features. She took a breath before her fingers resumed their ministrations,
'Yes… Very… But the whole thing is frustrating…' She looked up then to meet Selma's eye. 'Why would he allow me to believe he was my father if he were attracted to me? If he wanted that kind of relationship, he's so hot and cold. One minute, he's holding me in my bed and the next he's actively hiding parts of himself, holding himself back. Why can't he just let me in?' She groused, her brows knitted together.
'Perhaps he didn't think you were open to having that kind of relationship with him, you were married and he is older. It would also leave him vulnerable, emotionally and figuratively. Perhaps he's not willing to open himself up like that?' Selma made a point but it still didn't answer the many questions floating around in her brain.
Elizabeth sat bolt up right in the half light of dawn, fear clutching her chest in its icy fingers. Something was wrong. She reached for her gun, her heart pounding. She clicked off the safety and something jolted in the corner, snapping at her attention.
'What the fuck, Red!' She yelled at the sleepy man, who was sitting in the bedroom chair. He jumped again at the sudden loudness of her voice.
What? What is it? He murmured reaching for his own weapon.
'What do you want? Why are you here?' She questioned in quick succession, irritated but relieved it hadn't been when Jennifer was there.
What did he want? He wanted her, to be in her bed. Her legs wrapped around him, his cock buried deep inside her warmth. That's what he wanted. He sought out her eyes, her pupils dilating, he left a burning trail down her neck, the curve of her shoulder, her nipples hardening under his gaze. He felt a jolt, his cock twitching, sharpening his senses in the early light. He remained motionless despite wanting to go to her, wanting to push her back down against the mattress and spread her thighs with his weight.
'You didn't come to Paris…' His voice was low, gravelly almost sensual to her ears. She watched him for signs his body was betraying him. He was good at this, his pupils dilated, his gaze wandering but he remained still.
She let out a breath, 'I was working with Aram…' She offered purposely being non committal. 'How long have you been here?'
'Not long…' He removed his hand from his weapon, relaxing back into the chair again. His eyes remained focused on her. She was silent for a moment, wondering whether he was just going to sit there staring, whether he wanted an invite or whether she should tell him to get out.
'Why didn't you come to Paris?' He broke the silence, his gaze glinting.
'I told you… I was working with Aram…' She brushed her hair back over one shoulder, his attention rapt as she worked her fingers through the strands.
'And the real reason?' He asked, his mouth open as she pulled back the covers to reveal bare legs. She swung them over the edge of the bed to face him, her toes wiggling in the cool air.
What did he expect her to say? I didn't come because it would be awkward as fuck? She frowned at him in the darkness, a sudden shiver running down her spine. She pulled the blankets up covering her lap.
'You couldn't even look at me at the movie theatre so I think you know why…' She couldn't look at him, she tried hard to keep her voice steady but it wavered slightly. 'I think maybe it's time for us to talk about boundaries…' She met his eye then, glinting back at her. The early morning sun breaching the edges of the curtains, lighting her hair in a golden hue.
A smile spread out across his features, 'Yes I do…' He rose slowly answering her original comment, reaching for his coat. He could see her breathing quickened as she watched him, a damp patch blooming between her thighs. The sight of her making his cock ache.
'I meant it about those boundaries, you can't let yourself in anymore. You can't watch me sleep, you can't just come over whenever you want, you have to call or text. Something…' She told him, her confidence waning as he approached the end of the bed. His scent wafting as he passed her. He stood for a moment,
'If that's what you want, Elizabeth…' He turned away from her as if to leave. She let out a frustrated huff,
'What do you want?' She asked, her voice wavering. He froze, not turning back toward her, afraid his inner turmoil would clearly show on his face.
'A great deal…' He muttered, still not facing her.
'What does that mean? Why can't you ever just be straight with me…' Her voice was almost a plea. She climbed back into the bed and rose to her knees as he stood there with his back to her. She inched forward, from there they were the same height.
'Remember that time when you said I didn't want you to have the fulcrum because I was scared I'd never see you again?' She whispered as he turned to face her. His eyes widened slightly as he saw her kneeling before him in tiny shorts and a tank top.
'I remember everything. Every moment, every detail…' He told her with conviction, warmth spread across her chest, down her limbs and for a moment her brain scrambled. She only saw the heat in his eyes, the way they flicked to her lips, down her neck, tracing every inch of her body before coming back to meet her own, a smile played at the corners of his lips. She flushed under his gaze, warmth pooling between her thighs.
You were saying? He said gruffly. He knew full well what he was doing to her, did she know what she was doing to him?
'You were right I was scared then, but that was a long time ago and I think you've proved that you're in this… For me… With me…' She inched further forward so she was within his reach, all he had to do was pull her to him. 'This thing… she swallowed, her eyes glossy, '…Between us… This pull… I know you feel it just as I know you won't leave me because you can't, just like I can't leave you.' His own eyes grew glassy, his mouth twitching under her gaze.
She reached out a hand, grasping his. She wanted to pull him against her, place his hand against her hip so there could be no mistake but he was stood motionless, a frown against his brow but otherwise his mask was in place. Her heart constricted with his inaction, what did he need to make this happen? She slid her fingers up his chest to his neck, biting her lip. Her hooded eyes fully focused on his face. She pulled him against her, her arms wrapping around his neck. His fingers accidentally brushed her bare thigh as she leant into him causing her to gasp softly, but his arms remained loose by his side. She tucked her face into the gap between his shoulder and neck. She let out a small sigh as she breathed him in. She closed her eyes, her heart breaking a little when he remained still. The growing bulge in his trousers unmistakable between them.
She slid her hand down his arm, pulling his hand against her hip, moving it to the small of her back. The fabric of her tank top lifting with the movement. She could feel him grind his jaw down. His fingers still against her skin. 'Red' She breathed against him, it was half encouragement, half a moan. She felt the bulge in his trousers jerk in response. The only movement that was spiring her on. He relaxed into her then, his fingers gently brushing the light hairs on the small of her back sparking electricity between her thighs. She bit her lip to stifle the moan in her throat but she knew he heard it as he pulled her roughly closer. His hands gripping her hips deliciously. She involuntarily rocked her hips against him as she felt his cock rub against her pubic bone. It was then it fell apart, her heart breaking as he thrust her from him, his fingers digging roughly into her soft flesh of her pelvis. Her head snapped back, a surprised gasp escaping her lips. He held her still and her belly dipped, shooting sparks between her legs. His face darkened, his frown deepening as his hands left her warm skin. She swallowed down a lump, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Her nostrils flared and her chin trembled. He roughly grasped her forearms which were still around his neck and pushed her back. She sat down suddenly against the mattress as he reached down to retrieve his coat from the bed where it had fallen. He cast one last glance at her stricken face before he turned to leave.
A/N: Because Red went to Paris and Jennifer stayed over, I am thinking that this last scene happens on the Sunday morning, Jennifer would have stayed Friday/Saturday. They did mentioned that it was a Thursday when they did the stakeout and Red had gone to Paris. Just to be technical, if you actually care about this fitting in with the episode.