AN: Liz confides in Aram while checking out the apartment. Red returns from Florence and gives Liz a new case. Jealousy abounds as their roles seem to suddenly reverse. They come to realize that it'll take more than a breath of air to erase this new line in the sand. Thank you for reading and reviewing. I hope you guys like it!
Chapter Two
On her way out, Liz made a pitstop at Aram's desk to ask for his help. She felt more than a tiny twinge of guilt. He'd become her go-to guy for private, Reddington-related matters, and she owed him tremendously. At least she wasn't jeopardizing his safety or career this time. "Hey! Need anything, Agent Keen?"
"Actually, yes. Well, maybe... First, I need you to promise that you'll keep this confidential."
"I always do."
"Of course, because you're the best." She paused to flash a smile that conveyed her gratitude. "Okay... this is unofficial, and off the record, but could you sweep an apartment for surveillance devices, for me?"
His jaw briefly slackened in dismay. "You think someone bugged your new place? Already?"
"Oh, no. No. Don't worry. That's not, no that's not it. I actually, I haven't found a new place yet." Smooooth, Agent Keen.
"Well good then, but I'm surprised you didn't just ask for Reddington's help. His guys would be a safer bet."
"Maybe, but I trust you more." Yep, truth.
He drummed his fingertips on the desk, contemplating her request. "Our gear isn't bad, but surveillance technology is advancing too quickly for the FBI to operate on the cutting edge in perpetuity. I can try, but I can't guarantee that I won't miss something."
Liz nodded and smiled, but made no reply.
"You don't look very concerned... I guess I shouldn't be either, then."
Her grin broadened. "That's correct. Any chance you wouldn't mind doing it now? If you're busy, it can wait."
"Ah... No I, I'm not busy." his eyes nervously flitted between her shoulders. "You'll be coming with me though, right?"
"Rest assured, yes, I will. Thank you so much, Aram. Let's go. I'd like to escape before anyone comes out and sees us leaving."
"Sure thing. After you," he replied, his arm outstretched in a playful bow. "Let me just grab a few things." He packed a sleek, nickel-plated briefcase with the necessary items.
As they rode in the elevator, Liz contemplated offering an explanation, but concluded that she'd keep it to herself unless he asked.
-...-...-...-
During the drive over, Aram's only question was about how large the apartment was, and Liz found herself somewhat embarassed that she didn't know. A broad-shouldered security guard politely greeted them at the door. "Could you direct us towards the elevator, please?" she asked, searching his face for any recognizable, descriptive features. He didn't look familiar, so if he was one of Red's guys, then he was one of the many that she'd never seen.
"Sure. Just cut through the lobby and hang a left. There's three at the end of the hall."
"Great. Thank you."
Right on her heels, Aram's gaze swept over the lobby appreciatively. "Whoa. Nice place, huh?"
"It is," Liz agreed noncommitally. She stopped at the first elevator and pushed the button, but Aram walked a little further.
"Wait, Liz, which floor is it?"
Ah, another moment of vague embarrassment. "Not sure, exactly. It's the top floor."
"Then we need this one," he said, pointing to the etched placard to the left of the last elevator. "The others don't go that far. Looks like you need a key to access it though. Do you have one?"
"Oh." Liz shrugged sheepishly. Private elevator. Of course. She slipped her hand into her coat pocket. "I do."
As they rode up to the top, she tried to block out all thoughts about the salacious things that may have compelled Red to make such a choice. A limited-access elevator was ONLY a security measure, and a good one, to boot.
"So... Which one is it?" Aram asked.
"I.. I don't know, actually... oh, but it has a view of The Potomac, so it has to be on that side!" She pointed. "There's only two, anyway. Must be pretty big, I guess."
Liz picked the correct one on the first try, and held the door open for Aram to follow. She bit her lip and flipped on the lights. It was beautiful! Already furnished and decorated too. Did Red buy it like that, or did he hire an interior designer to do it? "Hey, you don't have to rush... It's a little bigger than I expected. I'd rather make a second trip than steal your entire day. Well, no, I take that back. All day is fine too. Whatever pace you prefer, I mean. Thank you, Aram. I really appreciate it."
He gently set his briefcase on the granite counter top and popped it open. "Okay, we'll see. And you're welcome.." he trailed off. "This place looks like the lovechild of Anthropologie and a Good Housekeeping magazine. Who did you say lives here, again?"
"Actually, I didn't say, but it's no one. No one lives here."
"Then who are they?" he asked, pointing to a cluster of framed photos on the wall behind her.
Liz turned around and clamped a hand over her mouth. They were pictures of herself and Sam, spanning from the nineties and up until her graduation from Quantico. Most were familiar, but some she'd never even seen before. She blinked back the tears that had instantly welled up in her eyes. There was even one of her old chocolate labrador retriever, Beau. "It's.. it's me and my father.." For a moment, she forgot about the reason that they were there in the first place, until her eyes fell upon two photos of a much-younger Sam and Reddington. They looked so handsome! Liz couldn't help but smile. Red even had thick, golden blond hair.
Aram had proven himself to be one of the most trustworthy friends she'd ever had, so Liz decided that it was time to explain the situation. "Red bought it for me."
"He? Oh, this? He bought this apartment?"
"But like I said, I don't trust him... I really want to though. I declined the offer, but of course, he didn't even tell me about it until after he had already bought it." She began to slowly stroll the perimeter of the living room, taking in all of the features and details. "I don't think I'd get in trouble at work for it, but I don't want everyone to get the wrong idea. Even if it isn't bugged, and I decide to take it, I'm not telling anyone how I got it."
As Aram got to work, she kept talking. That was the problem with confiding in someone. Once a levy's been breached, the deluge doesn't stop. Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind. In fact, she'd wager that he enjoyed having a bigger window with which to view their mysterious partnership. "Don't you think they'll figure it out eventually though?" he asked. "No way you could afford this on an agent's salary. Ah! Sorry, that came out wrong. No offense, I mean."
"It's okay. None taken. If they find out, then oh well I guess. I got a nice windfall from my father's life insurance policy though. That makes it a little less suspicious."
She continued on her exploration without further comment. The more she saw, the more she wanted to trust Red. Little personal touches were thoughtfully sprinkled throughout. Did that prove anything, or were these just the intentionally-fabricated products of a stalker's manipulation?
She saved the balcony for last, and found that the view fully lived up to Red's boisterous description. He'd even furnished the outside as well. Two sleek, white bubble chairs sat side-by-side. At a glance, they looked like they were made of concrete, but closer inspection revealed that they were actually plastic, instead. She took a deep breath as she pulled her phone out of her coat pocket to call him.
"Oh hello!" he boomed. "I expected to hear from you sooner. Busy week at the post office?"
Liz clenched her jaw. That snarky bastard. She had to pull the phone away from her mouth to prevent him from hearing her hissing reaction to the incessant giggling in the background on his end.
"Agent Keen?"
"Do you have a name for us yet?"
"Shhhh! I have to work." He l whispered to whoever he was with before replying, "I do."
"Well? I'm listening."
"Are you now? That's terrific."
Liz waited for him to go on, but apparently that was all he had to say. "So you're coming back soon?"
"I said I'm working! Are you trying to get me in trouble?" he asked the serial giggler. To Liz, he replied, "Do you remember the address to the safe house where we discussed the effigy of Atargatis?"
"Uh huh."
"Meet me there tomorrow. Five PM." Without another word, he hung up.
What the hell?
She went back inside and found Aram in the walk-in closet of the master bedroom. "How's it going?"
"Still good. I should be done in about ten minutes."
Thankfully, Aram's sweep yielded nothing, but whatever trust Liz may have gleaned from that had already been snuffed out by the hyena that Red liked to call, "Maddie."
-...-...-
As if she were asserting her right to be there, on the following day, Liz let herself into Red's safe house without bothering to knock. She strolled into the library and took a seat on the ancient couch facing Red. "So... nice trip?"
He met her eyes and smirked. "What do you know about white phosphorous?"
So, this again.
"Not much... just that its use is one of our country's dirty little not-so-secrets." Her eyes drifted up from Red, towards the wall behind him. "Huh... Speaking of which, I see you've recovered the Vermeer. How much did you say that was worth, forty million? How on earth did you convince Pratt to give it back to you?" Her chin lifted as she leaned more heavily against the back of the couch. 'Come at me,' her eyes screamed.
Red wasn't so easily rattled. "Yes, its past uses have been poorly covered up. Today however, our beloved nation is bankrolling a group of scientists who call themselves 'Oroblanco'. They're contracted by terrorist organizations to develop more stealthy but lethal methods of white phosphorous delivery."
"I think I get it now..." Liz trailed off, "You didn't buy it back from her. First, you hired a thief, and then you distracted her while they made the grab."
"Lizzie, those don't sound like business-related questions, now do they?"
"Madeline Pratt is a blacklister. I'm going to arrest her."
"She was, but now she isn't, so no, you aren't."
"Then what are you saying? Poof! Suddenly, she's useful to you again? She needs to be protected? I'm sure you have a good reason. Do me a favor though, if you don't mind. Let me know when her USE has dried up on you again. I could use the collar. She made us all look like fools at the embassy." Liz scowled and watched his flaring nostrils, the only visible sign of his ire.
"The scientists are running their experiments out of six different locations. In 2008, our military dropped white phosphorus bombs over Gaza. Those particular devices were made on a farm in Blacksburg. It's the closest. I'd start there."
He made a little motion with his head, and Liz couldn't tell whether it was a nod, a dismissive jerk of the chin, or both. She took it as a dismissal and stood up.
"Have you made any progress on finding The Fulcrum?" Red called out to her back.
Without so much as turning around, she shouted her reply, "Unless you plan on handing it over to Cooper, then it has nothing to do with work. You're on your own, there."
-...-...-
ful·crum.
Noun
1: The point on which a lever rests or is supported and on which it pivots.
2: A thing that plays a central or essential role in an activity, event, or situation
Despite her wariness of The Fulcrum, Liz had to admit that it was poetically named, an obelisk anchored to the ground between herself and Red. They had taken proverbial seats on opposite sides of a lever, legs kicking furiously, both seeking the higher ground.
Never arriving there together.
Liz was happy to throw herself headlong into the pursuit of Oroblanco. It took only a few days for her to regret the stupid line in the sand. She found herself repeatedly seeking out Red in times when it wasn't really necessary. When he seemed to be catching onto her ruse, she moved on to intentionally creating situations for which she really would need him.
Low, Keen.
As she had requested,
he
just
stopped
doing it.
The trying. The little touches. The double entendres. The stories. Everything.
Not once did Red ever speak a word that wasn't 100% work-related.
And no matter what Liz did, he just treated her like a normal FBI agent. With each passing day, she became increasingly aware of the fact that she wanted to be more.
Desire increased her longing to trust him, but still, she couldn't bring herself to do it.