A/N Chapter 9 of a story that I meant to be little more than a one shot.
This update got huge ... I've split it into 2 and the M rating most definitely applies to the next chapter. I will hopefully finish editing that today and post tomorrow.
I got some amazing feedback for the last chapter - thanks to everyone for the supportive remarks. Also thanks to all the new follows and favs. There are about 2 chapters left and maybe a very short epilogue xx
Then one morning out of the blue he tells her he has to leave town, "for how long?" she asks.
He smiles, them responds, "a short while".
She hears the echo of the past as it reverberates; similar words spoken over the phone, heralding a change in her life. She's gotten used to hiding, portraying a character to people at the Post Office, so she does her best to play that part now. Yet his words rock her and maybe it's the shallowness of her breathing, or her stillness that gives it away.
"Lizzie" he says his tone reassuring yet not quite enough to quelch her growing panic, "Lizzie" he tries again. "I'll be gone a few days at most, I'm sorry I startled you".
She feels the panic subside slightly but it's left something of its self behind. "No, I'm sorry" she says, "I'll let Cooper know".
"I don't need you to let Cooper know. I just need you to know. But I also need you to promise that you'll be careful while I'm gone. I don't want to worry about you during my absence; I'm trusting you Lizzie." he says watching her, his hand in hers, his thumb moving soothing circles on her palm, helping to keep the tide of fear at bay.
So she goes to work, goes without him for the first time in what must only be weeks but feels to her like forever. She is a ship without anchor, yet furious with herself for not being stronger. Perhaps if she'd had more notice and prepared herself then things would be different but he caught her unawares.
It's this unwelcome feeling, the residual effect of her panic that fuels her when they are called out into the field at short notice, a seemingly hopeless lead suddenly made good.
It's this same desperate energy that pushes her when she pursues their target, this time only Meera's strength and tenacity help her to keep up.
But when finally they unwittingly back themselves into a corner it's this same anxiety that causes her to shield Meera when their target produces a fire arm. She feels the bullets as they hit her back, she feels the pain as the Kevlar absorbs the impact, ultimately protecting her but hurting her none the less. But it's Meera who returns fire; too late to save Elizabeth from injury but fast enough to save their lives.
She loses consciousness immediately, more from the impact and the immense force, which has stolen the oxygen from her lungs, than from actual injury. It will take some time to establish but she's only suffering from two cracked ribs, some severe bruising and a situation specific bout of shock.
When she awakens she's in an ambulance, a fact she doesn't even question. She can hear Meera's voice; bristly and impolite as always. It's this tone more than anything that gets her to relax; convinces her that this is the norm.
"Who was that?" she asks sounding groggy and weak, when Meera finishes her call.
"Reddington" Meera says. "He just landed back in DC and he says he couldn't reach anyone, which I took to mean you. I've told him where we are headed."
She tries to sit up, the pain and disorientation making it impossible, "Meera" she says in an exasperated tone.
"What? I tried to break it to him gently but you know how he is" she says.
Elizabeth just laughs, she does know and despite everything that's occurred tonight she knows he's returned to her and the relief makes her a little giddy.
"Oh Meera, I'm in so much trouble" she says closing her eyes.
"You really are" Meera says back, her voice thick with sarcasm.
She is hours in the ER, between the waiting, examination, X-rays and diagnosis. She knows he must have arrived. The way Dembe drives they could have made it to her location in 45 minutes even in heavy traffic. So he's punishing her by not seeing her; not slipping his way past the guard or bribing his way in. She's disappointed but ultimately not surprised; he had warned her to be careful but she'd adopted a devil may care attitude fuelled by panic and desperation. Those few short hours he'd been gone, like a flash back to all of those months without him.
When she's given the all clear she gathers her things and walks out. She doesn't look at him but sees him in the shadows as she greets Meera, reassures her that her injuries are superficial. Then as confidently as she can she moves to the exit, hoping to put some distance between her and his animosity.
But outside Dembe is waiting and she's in no state to evade them so she takes her seat and waits till he joins her. The journey is tense, a torturous silence, during which he neither looks at her nor touches her. She gets the feeling even Dembe is annoyed. When the car finally stops at her house she would jump out if her tender ribs would let her.
Instead she makes do with opening her own door, before either of them can move, pushing herself to stand and leaving for the safety of her apartment.
But it's all to no avail because he's behind her, though silently, she can feel his presence. "Don't follow me in here if you're going to continue to punish me" she says mounting the stairs.
"In what way would my treatment of you amount to punishment Lizzie? I waited on you while you received medical treatment, I've provided you with transportation home and now I'm escorting you to your door" He says darkly as he continues to follow her.
"You know exactly what I mean" she says as she opens the door, attempting to get inside before he can follow. But it's too late, she guessed it would be. His hand is on the door, opening it wider and firmly closing it behind them. He stands for several minutes, without turning, without speaking.
She has placed her bag on the bottom step, preparing herself for the battle she feels brewing. Her heart is racing, thinking about her inevitable defeat. Since his return she's been stronger, more resilient but she's no match for him and they both know it.
Slowly, oozing fury and danger he turns around to look at her. She almost shrinks under his dark unwavering gaze but she won't. "What was my one instruction to you Lizzie?" He asks in a menacing voice, no more than a whisper.
She doesn't respond, just tries to maintain eye contact. She knows he's angry, she can understand why but protecting Meera was the right and dutiful thing to do.
He pushes off the door and she thinks he's about to circle her, like a predator assessing its prey. He does in fact move around her, maintaining his distance. She moves too, intimidation forcing her to betray her nervousness. Somewhere through the panic induced haze she thinks to make her way to the door, offering him and his anger a way out.
As she reaches it he silently steps in behind her; one hand on the door, using the other to turn her body. Her shock at the sudden proximity makes her lose focus and sends her slightly off balance. She leans into him and he meets her half way, his lips finding hers as his body pushes her firmly into the door, all pain and tenderness forgotten.
It takes her a moment to realise what's happening, but her body has kept up even though her mind couldn't, and she finds herself kissing him back, matching his heat, his angered passion. His hands move roughly over her body, gripping her hips before moving further up.
In response she lifts her hands, digging her fingers through his clothing into the flesh of his back. Spurred on by his continued aggression she quickly pushes his jacket from his shoulders. She lets it fall to the floor at their feet while he harshly pulls at the hem of her shirt, aiming to remove it, not caring if it's ruined in the process.
Then suddenly it stops, he instantly lifts his hands from her body, placing them on the door on either side of her, lowering his head while he takes deep ragged breaths, his eyes still closed. She drops her hands: those that had begun to roughly pull at his tie, the buttons of his vest. She drops her eyes, rejection heating her cheeks.
Finally his hands slide down the door and he steps back. She wraps her arms around herself, the change of pace making her feel exposed and uncertain. He moves back seemingly surveying the room as he goes, finally stopping across from her.
"Elizabeth, I won't be rough with you: Not tonight, not any night". He finally says, and she hears the implications of the words. He's telling her that there will be a tonight and then other nights; together, like this. It makes her hot but unsteady.