The Short Game

Story 5

Author's Note: Set just before The Thrushes and a continuation of the last chapter. This one is LONG, longer than I expected, and the actual people I was expecting to include aren't even there! This has to do with the Faithful Followers storyline from Story 4 (the last chapter) but I got so into dealing with Don and Liz that they have yet to make an appearance….next chapter?

Please leave a review.

wwwwwwwww

Donald Ressler sat on the sofa with a Jason Bourne movie playing and Liz tucked into his side. They were at their farmhouse in New Mexico, returned on the date they told Gideon and waiting for him and his wife to arrive in two days. Four FBI agents were in the farm hands quarters pretending to be migrant worker, and another set of FBI agents were in the tiny home staged as a couple volunteering for the farm for the next week.

"Any word?" Don asked Liz as she covertly checked her phone.

"Tom says he may have a lead but…"

"But?" Don asked.

"You ever think that maybe what one person considers forward motion the other doesn't?" Liz asked him, her eyes meeting his.

Don swallowed hard and nodded. He knew she was thinking about her husband and her daughter, but Don was thinking about them.

"Everyone is different," he said simply.

Liz nodded and settled her head back against his shoulder and threw her phone onto a nearby chair.

The farmhouse was rundown in the way that only farmhouses can be. It was comfortable. There were chips in the furniture, cracks in the old walls, scratches on the wood floor, with a collection of mis-matched furniture that was well worn and comfortable. The forensics team had cleaned the blood off the walls from the happy couple's murder-suicide and removed all evidence that anyone besides Don and Liz as Caleb and Skylar Watson lived here.

They had returned at the time they told Gideon they would, thinking that the man and his wife, or others belonging to his cult, may watch the farm once they knew the location. Workers were put in place quickly and the forensics team had already cleaned out the house, so all Don and Liz needed to do was come back in the van as if they had been visiting relatives in Rochester for the last week.

The last few days working on the farm and playing husband to Liz had been a challenge for both of them. Liz because she wanted to be looking for Agnes, and Don because he wanted to be as far away from Liz as possible. Things had worked well for them camping at the festival, but as soon as they got back, it had gone south. Tom had been extra clingy, extra understanding, extra involved and Don had witnessed way too many private, physically close, moments between them to feel like everything was in a better place. So, he rolled back, away from her, acting distant from her was the only coping mechanism he had, and Liz, too preoccupied with Agnes hadn't noticed.

"I'm falling asleep," Liz said as she rose and pulled herself away from his shoulder. "I'm heading up to bed."

Don nodded and she leaned down and kissed his lips softly before she gathered her empty tea mug and carried it to the kitchen. He stayed in the living room because it was just easier for her to go to bed and him to go up once she was asleep so neither of them laid awake in bed next to each other thinking of all the other things they had done in bed when together.

"You're going to have to come to bed with me when they are staying with us," Liz said as she walked back through the room.

"I know," Don sighed.

She stopped for a moment, and he knew she wanted to say something but was searching in her head for the right phrasing.

"Sleep well, Liz," Don said as he crossed his arms over his chest and focused on the chase scene on the TV.

She nodded, not moving forward with whatever she was about to say, and walked up the creaky stairs toward their bedroom.

Don heard the pipes moan and creak as water was turned on and off and a toilet was flushed. He heard the creaks of the floorboards as she got ready for bed and the springs of the old bed as she settled in. There was no getting away with anything in this house, anyone up walking when they shouldn't be would be heard, anyone getting in and out of bed would be heard, and any conversations would be heard. He and Liz needed to only talk outside when no one else was around, they could write notes, but then would need to destroy them, they would have to be very good at reading each other in the moment so Gideon and Mira didn't pick up on any awkward silences, signals or confused looks. Don knew Liz well, but in their current state, he wasn't sure they could pull it off. He hoped they could for the sake of the girls.

A half hour later, Don shut off the TV and brought his empty water glass to the kitchen. He mounted the stairs, hit the washroom to relieve himself and get ready for bed, and then quietly walked into their bedroom where he opened a creaky drawer, pulled out pajama pants and stripped off his worn jeans, plaid shirt and socks, and climbed into bed as far away from Liz as was humanly possible.

He lay in the dark, listening to her measured breathing and sighed. The couple they had become had slept in this room, in this bed, and somehow found themselves killed. The stories they had told Gideon were true of the Watson's. This was his family's farm and she was a former prostitute. The back story of how they met was concocted by Don and Liz—truthfully, they had no idea how a farm guy ended up marrying a former prostitute. But in the end, that didn't matter.

Skylar had killed Caleb and then turned the gun on herself and taken her own life. There was no note, no understanding of what had happened, and with the Bureau keeping everything quiet, no one in the community even knew it had happened. The couple had some debt, but not a lot. They had found nothing else in the home to indicate what had set her off. The Bureau had determined the reasoning behind the deaths still unknown, but one of the forensic team said it was a crime of passion. When Don looked intrigued she had explained that based on the evidence at hand, the couple had recently had sex, possibly multiple sexual encounters over the last few hours, a wedding photo had been smashed, and there were marks on both bodies not indicating a fight, more of a restraint or altercation.

Don turned his head to look at Liz in the dark, sleeping on the pillow next to him. He didn't understand murder-suicide; how you could kill someone you loved was beyond him. He still loved Liz. He hated that she was with her slimeball husband. That she had a child with him. That she had sex with him, kissed him, smiled at him, touched him, let him touch her. Don hated all of that. But, he would rather that, then Liz dead. In no world would her being dead be a better option than Liz with Tom. As much as it tore at his insides, caused him to drink more than he should, grind his teeth when he slept, and generally hate himself for not moving beyond her, Don was happier she was alive rather than dead. Death was not an option for anyone he loved.

"You seem perplexed," Liz said in the quiet of their room.

"I thought you were asleep," Don said, startled. He had been so lost in his own thoughts he had missed that Liz was no longer asleep.

"I can hear you thinking," Liz chuckled. "Your thinking woke me up."

Don turned and looked at her, trying to assess, in the blackness of their room if she was being honest or joking as her laughter implied.

"I didn't know my thinking was so loud," he said, wishing for any ambient light besides the moon, which was currently behind clouds, in their room so he could see her.

"So, what's going on in that head of yours?" Liz asked as she rolled to the side and looked at him.

Don closed his eyes and wished he could come up with a better story than the truth.

"I don't get murder-suicide," Don said.

"I do," Liz said.

"Excuse me?" Don asked.

"To love someone so much you can't imagine them with anyone else, that it would tear you up inside to not have them with you? That, I get."

"So, you would rather kill someone you love than allow them to find happiness with someone else?" Don asked, surprised.

"No, I wouldn't," Liz said as she reached out and touched his bicep in the dark. Her ability to find him even in complete darkness always unnerved Don. "I said I get why some people do it."

Don shifted and bent his arm at his elbow, placing the side of his face in his palm. "Explain then."

"Love is a state of…lack of control," Liz explained. "You can't control who you love or how much you love that person. Couple that with sex and all the pheromones, endorphins and passion, and a murder-suicide, for a person that is blinded by any other options, is a clear path to be with someone forever. Especially if you believe in heaven."

"So, people are just animals that can't control themselves?" Don asked, unbelieving. Knowing that he couldn't control who he loved or that she loved someone else, but that hadn't caused him to want to kill her.

"Some people, in that moment, I think, can't," Liz said nodding.

"What's the difference between one couple in that state that goes through with it and the other couple that does not?" Don asked.

"I think a greater, unselfish love of the other person," Liz said. "The people who commit murder-suicide give into their baser instincts. Those that don't, give into a higher understanding, possibly love more deeply because they would rather not have the person, then have the person not exist."

Don swallowed hard. This was a little too close to home with her hand on him, their bodies inches away from each other in bed, in the dark, when anything could happen and no one, not her husband, the FBI, no one would know except them.

He felt her hand rubbing up and down his bicep and knew if he kissed her, as Don kissing Liz, she'd kiss him back. He knew that it wouldn't just end with a kiss. He knew she may still love him, even if she was with Tom. Don knew, just like the murder-suicide discussion, if he gave into his baser instincts, he could destroy her marriage in this moment, if he wanted to.

"Goodnight Liz," Don said softly, as he rolled over so his back was facing her, and her hand fell down to the bed by his back.

"Goodnight Ressler," Liz said quietly before she rolled away from him, her back to him as well.

In the morning Don woke, as was always the case, with Liz pressed against him. She always found him in the night, always gravitated toward him and always he stayed exactly where he had fallen asleep. And, like every other morning, he pulled himself away from her, despite wanting to do anything but, and went and had a very cold shower. She must have known when she woke that she was on his side of the bed, but neither of them spoke a word about it to the other.

He came downstairs to her making breakfast and they started their day on the farm. They had hired an actual beekeeper to handle to bees and both Don and Liz had received lessons from him, and spent time fogging, sticking their hands in the hive, trying not to flinch when the bees all landed on them, and trying to look like they did this all the time. They only had a few days to prepare but seemed to be doing relatively well. Most of their time was spent packaging the honey, which was not as messy as one would expect.

Don received a text late that day telling him Gideon and his wife had been delayed and would join them the next day, possibly in the afternoon. Don texted back that they were looking forward to their visit and he and Liz settled in for another night alone.

"Have you ever cheated on someone?" Liz asked him out of the blue over their dinner.

"Technically, you and I…"

"You weren't in a relationship," Liz said. "Except with Audrey, but we weren't…"

Don sighed and put down his fork.

"Once, in college," Don said. "I was with a girl for a few weeks, it wasn't going well…I went to Montreal with friends and…"

"I remember this story," Liz smiled at him.

"And in high school, I wasn't really in many monogamous relationships so I wouldn't consider dating around cheating," Don said.

Liz nodded.

"I know you cheated on Nik with Tom, and Tom with me," Don said.

"I've been thinking about that a lot," Liz said.

"How so?" Don asked.

"I think I'm a coward," Liz said as she reached for her water. "I wasn't happy with Nik so…Tom."

"And you weren't happy with Tom so me?" Don asked, not sure if he wanted her honesty.

"Not the same," Liz said.

"How so?" Don asked.

"I knew I was excited by Tom," Liz said. "I didn't love him, not then at least. But with things going south with Nik, Tom was a fun next step. Then I grew to love him, over time."

"Makes sense," Don said.

"With you…"

"Liz, maybe this is a bad topic of…"

"With you," Liz said as she met his eyes. "I loved you before we did anything about it. With you it was like…like I had been denying myself someone that I knew I loved, who loved me, who would be better for me."

Don swallowed hard.

"You haven't told me that before," Don said.

"Ressler, I'm not sure…"

"Not sure you love me?" Don asked her.

Liz gave him a small smile.

"No, I know that," Liz said and she felt him reach across and take her hand. Suddenly Don was thinking his choice to not kiss her last night may have been a bad one. "I just think…maybe you deserve better? Maybe Tom deserves another chance? Maybe it's not just about me."

"Why would you say that?" Don asked her, his thumb rubbing across the back of her hand.

"Because I have messed things up with you from the start?" Liz said. "You need someone who…"

"I need you," Don said as he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "I love you, Liz."

"I slept with Tom, made a child with him…" Liz said, making her argument. She hadn't told him it was to save him, she wasn't sure he would welcome her decision there.

"And I know that, it's not a secret," Don said.

"I broke your heart," Liz said as she met his eyes.

"Yes, you did," Don said truthfully.

"Maybe Tom needs a chance to turn his life around and I'm his only chance?" Liz asked, knowing it was hard for him to hear this as well. "Maybe Agnes deserves a father that is not a hot mess."

"Maybe Tom is a big boy and can figure out his own life without you," Don said, making a case. "But Liz, you are the only one who really knows what you want. I know I want you. I imagine Tom wants you as well. I think you need to figure out what you want."

"I want what's best for my daughter," Liz said softly. And Don knew, no matter what she wanted, Agnes would always come first. And that probably meant Tom, regardless of what Liz wanted. Liz would never forgive herself for giving up on the only father Agnes had without giving to a solid try.

Don leaned forward and kissed her ardently, thinking his decision last night was a new decision today. They could have this and not ruin her marriage, because she wasn't leaving Tom any time soon. He just needed to remember that he made this choice, knowing that was the endgame.

She clamped her hands on either side of his face and kissed him back, Don's intention was clear and Liz, selfishly accepted it. She knew she was being greedy, but she also knew that Don knew that as well. He was going into this with his eyes wide open. They rose together from their seats and stepped around the table, their kiss never faltering. Then she was pressed up against him and she was running her hand up and down his chest on either side, his nipples coming alive under the friction the palms of her hands created. Liz slipped off her underwear under her sundress and reached for his belt, quickly pushing his pants and underwear down as Don picked her up and sat her on the wood kitchen table, her legs coming to either side of him allowing him to step in between them. Besides a brief gasp of air a couple of times, their kiss was almost constant until he ventured down her neck and onto her chest.

When the act was over, Liz was laying on her back in a pool of water on the table her heels gripping the edge, two plates had fallen to the floor, cutlery had mostly clattered to the ground, water had spilled everywhere, and Don was leaning over her frame, propped on his elbows and huffing from the exertion.

"Jesus Christ," Don said as he looked down at her and then kissed her lips soundly.

"He was here too?" Liz asked with a raised eyebrow.

Don gave her a low chuckle and kissed her again.

She ran her hands across his shoulders and down his back.

"I wanted this, so badly," Liz said honestly. "So selfishly."

Don closed his eyes and his forehead dropped softly against hers.

"I'm being selfish as well," he said quietly. "I want you in any way I can have you. Despite your marriage…"

Liz allowed one tear to drop from her eye. He deserved better than she had to offer.

Both of their chests were heaving for a long time before they slowed and regulated.

"I read your journal," he admitted.

She kissed his nose.

"I…I needed to read that when you were gone," Don said quietly. "I was…unsure if it was…"

"It was…it is," Liz said quietly.

Don nodded.

"Why can't things be simple?" Liz asked Don.

He smiled at her ruefully.

"Liz, nothing with us has ever been simple," Don said before he pulled back and stood up, taking in the scene of their vigorous lovemaking.

He lowered her dress to cover her and pulled up his pants, that were wet from water spilling everywhere.

"We really should have found a bed," he chuckled.

She snickered, and rose up to a seated position, her entire back and dress soaked with water from the pitcher that toppled.

"Don't step down there are shards of glass," Don said as he carefully stepped away and put on some shoes, returning with a broom as she sat on the edge of the table, her legs dangling.

"What are we going to do?" Liz asked him as she watched him bend down and sweep the shards into a dust bin.

Don said nothing while he swept. He took a look around the area and decided they should probably get the shop vac and make sure there wasn't any small glass particles around.

She made a motion to jump down, and he placed a hand quickly on her chest, stopping her. "Don't."

Liz nodded and waited while he returned with a pair of her sandals and crouched down to place them carefully on her feet before he stood and she hopped down and stood flush against him.

"Next time we need a bed," Don said as he leaned down and kissed her softly, answering her question from earlier.

She nodded and snagged her underpants off the floor a few feet away and pulled them on before the two of them cleaned up the detritus of their meal, vacuumed the floor, turned off all the lights, and went upstairs to get into bed and have a more comfortable second encounter of the evening.

And in the morning, Don felt both elated and like there was a bowling ball sitting at the bottom of his gut. Was he really okay sleeping with a married woman who was trying to make a go of it with her scumbag husband? Was he okay knowing she was also with Tom? Was he okay knowing he wasn't going to be who she chose because he wasn't the father of her child?

But, then he turned his head and looked at Liz smiling in her sleep, her head resting on the pillow next to him as her arm clutched his chest and thought that he wouldn't give up one chance to wake up like this ever again. He would take whatever conditions, whatever sacrifices were needed to have her. In whatever way he could. Morality be damned, rules be damned, and planning be damned. He would take this one day at a time, take the moments with her, and take the love she has for him and relish in it. He wasn't married to Tom, and although she loved Tom in her own way, she also loved him. He knew that without a doubt.

"I can hear you thinking," Liz said quietly as she looked at him.

"I'm thinking about how much I like this," Don said as he turned and gave her a smirk.

Liz sighed and leaned toward him and kissed his chest, burying her face in his armpit.

"What the hell?" Don asked as he looked at her, surprised.

"You have great pits," Liz said, slightly embarrassed but still not moving her face away.

"I think you are the first person in my life to ever say that," Don chuckled as he waited for her to emerge.

She pulled her face up and smiled at him, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

"Really?" Don asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

Liz closed her eyes and nodded. "Stop looking at me like I'm a weirdo."

"You are," Don chuckled. "My armpits probably stink after everything you and I got up to."

Liz shook her head in the negative and smiled at him, her eyes catching his.

"No, they bring me comfort," Liz said softly.

Don shifted so he could see her better. "Okay, this I need an explanation for."

"You may not know," Liz said shyly. "But over the years you have held me quite often or walked with your arm around me protectively. Especially in Baltimore. And, with our height difference, that usually meant my face was tucked into or nearby an armpit."

"I'm so sorry," Don chuckled. "I'm sure sometimes I was…"

"No," Liz said. "You always have a musky smell there, but it's…comforting not disgusting. Every time I'm tucked into you that way, I feel safe."

Don nodded and smiled at her, leaning over and kissing her lips softly.

"You're still a fucking weirdo," he said with a smirk.

Liz gasped and reached for a pillow and slammed it into his face. Don reacted quickly and rolled on top of her, pinning her down while she squealed.

He tickled her and she kicked with her legs and giggled in delight as he laughed.

"I'm going to pee!" Liz yelled.

He rolled off her falling onto his back next to her and laughing as she rose naked from their bed and ran for the washroom slamming the door behind her. She could hear Don's boisterous laughter as she relieved herself and, it was in moments like this, that she thought she was being an idiot for giving Tom another chance. Plenty of children grew up with biological parents that weren't together; Agnes would understand.

When she emerged from the washroom Don was standing dressed in their room getting ready to start the day. As much as they weren't farmers, they needed to stay in character and be farmers rising at 5am to get things going. She walked up to him and finished buttoning the last two buttons of his shirt before she rose on her toes and kissed his mouth.

"Last chance, before they get really rank," Don said as he raised his arm laughing as she smiled and buried her face in his armpit quickly before pulling back embarrassed.

"You are never going to let me live this down," she laughed as she whacked his ass.

"Never," he said as he gave her a wicked grin and walked out of the room.

"I will find what makes you a weirdo too!" Liz yelled after him.

"Come on Skylar, we've got shit to do," Don called playfully over his shoulder as he started down the stairs chuckling.

To be continued….