Previously...
The man is patient, sitting and waiting quietly in the dark. The other man - his target - had come home a little over an hour ago, and the lights in the apartment had turned off almost immediately.
Not tonight, he thinks. He needs to keep watching, to see where this man - Ressler - can lead him. He'd already proved useful thus far.
Reaching for his phone, the man in the dark dials a number quickly and holds it to his ear. Once a voice on the other end answers, the man smiles - the act causes his skin to stretch over his face, revealing an ugly scar running from his lip to his eye.
"I found him."
May 20th, Ressler's Apartment, 7:00 AM
"Liz, pick up your damn phone!"
Ressler slams his phone down after angrily pressing the end call button, running a hand through his hair as he sighs loudly. He blows out another breath of air, stalling, trying to figure out what to do. His foot taps on the floor, rapid and in a continuous pattern as he thinks.
He's being followed, he knows for sure now, because the glint of a scope is impossible to mistake, and also he'd seen that same man twice now, and there's no such thing as coincidence when you're trying to disband a group of corrupt government officials.
"Liz, please pick up," he begs silently, blowing out a breath of air he hadn't known he was holding as he picks his phone up once more and resumes his pacing. The phone rings three times before clicking, and when Ressler hears her soft voice say, "Hello?" he runs a hand over the stubble on his jaw and collapses into his arm chair weakly.
"Liz," is all he says, and he can hear her breathing on the other end but she's not responding and he's afraid she may hang up. "How are you?" he asks, because he can't think of much else to say besides please come home and he can't say that because he's not safe and neither is she.
"I miss you," she says instead of responding to his question, and he knows she's safe but discontent with her role in the situation they're in (the situation she'd inadvertently gotten them into).
"I miss you, too," he says, and then, because he's stupid and irrational and he can't help it, he blurts out, "I need to see you."
The silence that follows his confession leaves his heart beating fast and the blood rushing loudly in his ears. He wishes he could take it back, because of course he can't see her, she's in hiding, probably in another country, and besides, he highly doubts her seeing him is important enough to her to take the risks of -
"Can we make it work? Can we meet?" she says instead of what he'd been anticipating ("don't be stupid, Ressler," being at the top of his list of her possible responses). "I need to see you, too."
He wants to ask where she is, but he knows she won't respond to such a specific question, so instead he asks, "Are you in the country?"
"Yes," she responds, and he can tell she's biting her lip because she does that a lot when she's nervous and she sounds awful nervous now.
"Tell me where you can get without Reddington being suspicious and I'll be there."
She's silent for a minute, and he is out of his chair and resuming his pacing because he's afraid she's thinking of hanging up instead of thinking of a meeting place. But he can still hear her shuffling around, so he knows she hasn't hung up on him yet.
"Ressler, are you still there?" she finally asks, and he grins unconsciously as he nods, "Yeah, I'm still here."
"Meet me in Disney World."
May 21st, Disney World, 1:00 PM
The sun is blazing and the sky is so blue it almost hurts to look at it. As Ressler takes in his surroundings (planning escape routes, scoping the families and vacationers to make sure no one look suspicious, to make sure no one is wearing clothing heavy enough to mask a gun) he realizes why Liz chose this place (regardless of the fact that he's pretty sure she chose it because it's close to where she's staying, but he doesn't care about finding their hideout anymore, not sure he ever really did).
It's busy.
There are people everywhere, kids darting in and out of legs, screaming and touching each other with ice cream and cotton candy sticky hands. Parents are having fun, either ignoring their kids (parents of the "they'll be fine, we ran around when we were kids and look, here we are" mentality) or worriedly scanning the crowds constantly, keeping their children in constant contact as the throngs of people move throughout the amusement park (helicopter parents).
"This place is nuts," he muses, flipping open his map to locate the water fountain Liz had asked him to meet her at. He's nervous and taking his time, because as much as he needs to see her, as excited as he is that she agreed to come to him, he's afraid that going back after seeing her will be impossible. He's afraid he'll rationalize it (he's being followed, hunted, anyway - would it really hurt to let Reddington extract him now?) and convince himself to leave the Post Office.
He's walking and he sees it in front of him, but he doesn't see her until he hears her voice.
"Ress," she says, and he knows he's a goner from the moment he turns around and catches sight of her.
He doesn't know how he'll go back now.
He doesn't know how he'll leave her.
She looks smaller, somehow, like maybe she hasn't been eating as much as she needs or maybe she's exhausted, or maybe she just seems small because she's in civilian clothing standing quietly as the masses of excited, lively people move around her. Regardless, he finds himself pushing past people to reach her and suddenly she's in his arms and he's breathing in her scent deeply, burying his face in her hair and he's calmer than he's been in months and he knows it's because she's close.
"Hi," he whispers, his cheek brushing against hers as he pulls back to meet her eyes. And even though she looks small and exhausted, her eyes shine brightly with happiness as her lips stretch into a smile.
"Hi," she says, and she reaches to take his hand. "We're practically invisible here," she muses, and Ressler is amazed at how easy it is to hold her hand and be in Disney World and not be worried for his life for the first time in two months.
"Yeah?" he asks, and he knows she's right. With about a million people in the park, they're probably not being watched.
"We should ride the swings," she says, and he's tempted to agree.
They should ride the swings, shouldn't they?
"Ok," he agrees easily, and he lets her lead him away from the fountain. He's not sure where they're going, but he's excited to go there because he's with her. It scares him how easy this all is, being here with her, holding her hand, not worrying about the hundreds (possibly thousands) of people who want them dead.
He should run away, from her, from this situation, from these feelings.
But...
He follows her anyway.
May 21st, Disney World, 6 PM
By the time the sun is setting, he's sure Reddington is missing her and is certain there's no way he can go back without her.
They're sitting on a rock ledge by the ice cream truck, enjoying their favorites in silence. Liz is eating chocolate and he's eating vanilla, even though she pauses every thirty seconds or so to remind him his choice is boring and he should find a new favorite.
"Vanilla is classic," he argues, and she laughs and he smiles, because God he missed that sound. She's still holding his hand and he's annoyed that the warm weight of her hand in his causes his heart to thud erratically in his chest. He's a grown man, for goodness sake, not a twelve year old. But when she finishes her cone and turns her attention to him, he's suddenly uncomfortable and wary under her watchful eye.
"Try it," he insists gruffly, shoving the cone in her personal space, thankful it doesn't drip and embarrass him because he's not smooth and he can just imagine the remaining ice cream sliding off his cone and dropping into her lap and wouldn't that be great?
She grins at him before tasting the cone, flicking her pink tongue out to lick up some of the sweet treat.
"Mmm," she says, swirling the cream around in her mouth. His own mouth has gone dry, watching her, watching her tongue and her smile and her eyes as they flick back to his. She licks her lips and he swears she's doing it on purpose.
But she misses a spot, and really, with that logic, what happens next is really her own fault.
Ressler leans forward, his head tilted, and kisses the side of her lip (just barely making contact, but the touch of his skins against hers causes her to gasp and it's a beautiful sound). He catches the excess ice cream between his own lips and tastes it and her all in one and he suddenly has a new favorite ice cream flavor.
"Ressler?" she asks shakily, and when he pulls back he sees something in her eyes and he hopes he reads it correctly, because he leans in and kisses her again, and God, yes, he read the signs right because she's suddenly kissing him back, and when she parts her lips and lets her tongue slip out to run across his own roughened lips, he feels like he might pass out.
But he doesn't. Instead, he tosses the rest of his ice cream into a nearby bin so both hands are free to cup her jaw and pull her closer. She repeats her previous action, running her warm tongue across his lips and this time he opens to her, meeting her halfway and swirling together the flavors of chocolate and vanilla, and maybe he can be convinced to like chocolate, after all.
It's a very long time before he breaks away, and he only does it because an obnoxious catcall reminds him that they're in public.
Liz pulls away, giggling, and Ressler grins cockily at her.
"I wish you hadn't thrown that ice cream away," she says, and if she doesn't want to be kissed in public, she should really stop licking her lips, damn it.
"Yeah, well, I had more important things on my mind," he says a little breathlessly, catching her lips again. She's smiling and laughing, though, so kissing her is a challenge, but he'd be damned if he'd walk away from a challenge. The FBI did not give up, after all.
"I should go," she finally says, breaking away, and he holds her hand tighter, because no, they just discovered this and he wants to talk about it.
"Liz..."
She sighs and stands, taking his hand once more, and he's reassured despite telling himself he doesn't need reassurance because he's Director Donald Ressler, damn it, but the warmth of her hand in his reminds him that she's still there and it's comforting.
"It's getting late. Reddington is going to kill me."
He concedes the point, because he can just imagine Reddington now, angry and shouting but ultimately more worried than pissed off because he cares for Liz.
"When will I see you again?" he asks, and even though he knows that neither of them can be sure of when they'll see each other again, he asks anyway.
"Soon," Liz says, and because it's hard to say goodbye, neither of them speak as they heard toward the park exit.
Soon.
If only they realized how soon it would actually be.
May 21st, Unknown Location, 6:10 PM
The man grins to himself, clicking the camera shutter as fast as he can, capturing the moment from as many different angles as possible.
Director Ressler and fugitive Liz Keen, kissing.
Holding hands.
Laughing.
He follows them to the park exit, then quietly slips off into the darkness.
He had what he came for.
May 22nd, Post Office Parking Garage, 7:30 AM
"Aram, I'm literally outside in the parking garage. I'll be up in two minutes. Why the hell are you calling me at 7:30 in the morning?" Ressler snaps, grumpy and tired. He hadn't slept on the flight back at all, and two sick days in a row was too suspicious, he knew had to be here even if he didn't want to. He slams his car door a little harder than necessary and opens the trunk, searching for his briefcase.
"Boss, you can't come in today."
"Why the hell not?" Ressler snaps, hands pausing their search as he holds the phone closer to his ear.
"We, uh - we received a package this morning. I'll be in big trouble if they know I'm talking to you, agents are everywhere. Everywhere. Like, in my office, your office, by the doors, there may even be some in the garage, so be careful - "
"Aram! The point!"
Ressler slams the trunk, but holds his keys in his hands, not sure if he should be getting back in the car or hurrying inside. He looks around, trying to assess his current situation. Agents in the parking garage? Why?
"We got a package of pictures. Of ... um, you. In Disney World?"
Ressler's heart sinks to his stomach. He feels physically ill, because they shouldn't have let their guard down, and if there are pictures then everyone knows he met up with Liz and he'll be relieved of his position as soon as he walks inside because he's harboring a fugitive and meeting with someone on the FBI's Top Ten Most Wanted list. And oh, God, he's going to be arrested and he'll never see Liz again.
He swallows hard, walking slowly back to the driver side door of his SUV.
"Just me, or...?"
He knows the answer, but he asks anyway because he's hoping Aram will tell him what to do.
"You and Liz," Aram answers, and the younger man is whispering now and Ressler is worried for him, too. "Boss, you need to get the hell away from here. Call Mr. Reddington. It's no longer safe for you to work this from the inside."
"I can't leave you and Samar," Ressler argues, but he knows it's a weak argument, because if he doesn't leave them he'll be behind bars and of no help to anyone.
"Leave, NOW," Aram says, and he's still whispering but his words are filled with conviction. "I saw some men on the camera heading to your position. Leave us, we'll be fine. Go. Now."
The line goes dead (did Aram get caught? Hang up just in time to avoid detection? Ressler has no way of knowing and it drives him crazy).
Ressler holds his phone listening to the dial tone as it blends in with the sound of echoing footsteps on the metal staircase leading down to the parking garage.
What the hell should he do now?
O.M.G. There is no excuse for my behavior. I had the hardest time writing this, and I'm STILL NOT HAPPY with it. :( Grr. But I couldn't bare to make you guys wait any longer, I'm horrible and terrible. The next update will NOT take as long, or so help me, you can hunt me down.
Whatcha think? This story should be 4-5 more chapters, and they just get more exciting after this!
Please Review! (If you do, I'll send a 2-3 paragraph sneak peak in a day or two!)