Previously...
"He's such a little man already," she muses out loud, and Ressler turns toward her, glancing at her in amusement as he turns onto a small, dirt road.
"How so?" he questions.
Liz reaches into the back and gently tugs the bottle out of Sammy's hands. He gives one small, sleepy grunt before sighing deeply and squirming into a more comfortable position in his car seat.
"He eats a ton and falls asleep immediately after meal time," she says, and she chuckles as the car slows down. Ressler shifts the car into park in front of a small, homey looking cabin. He leans back in his seat and sighs.
"Come on," he says, opening his door and stepping out, letting it close noisily behind him. "Let's check the perimeter and settle in. Sammy will have someone to go home to if it's the last thing I ever do. We'll keep him safe," he says, and he holds out his hand, letting Liz grasp onto it tightly as she holds the sleeping baby on her shoulder. If she leans into him slightly for comfort, letting Sammy rest between them as his hot breath puffs out onto their necks, neither of them mention it.
June 16th, 7:30 PM (Ressler's Cabin)
Ressler's cabin is cozy, Liz muses silently as she walks from room to room once more. The colors are earth-tones, greens and browns just gentle enough to be comfortable. She especially likes the forest green in the bedroom, though she hasn't spent as much time in there as she would like.
"Waaaahh!"
She finds it hard to focus on the decor, however, as Sammy lets out another loud wail and angrily bumps his head into hers. She winces, using the hand that's not holding him firmly to her body to wrap around his little skull to prevent further bumps. He's thrashing angrily in her arms, but she's learned from experience during the past hour that if she puts him down, he becomes (impossibly) louder. He's cranky, yet he wants comfort, and she's finding it hard to find a balance.
In fact she has, for the better part of the last hour, been bouncing a fussy Sammy in her arms as Ressler putters around the kitchen, trying to find something for dinner amongst the bare essentials he'd left the last time he'd visited his cabin.
"Shh, it's fine, Sammy. You're ok, you're just being dramatic," she tries to reason as she bounces Sammy in her arms. He's been crying for almost an hour, and neither she nor Ressler can find anything wrong with him. He's clean, warm, and as far as she can tell, uninjured. Despite her attempts to calm the baby, however, he doesn't listen and continues shrieking loudly, his tiny face contorted in pain and anger as he beats his little fists on her shoulder. She moans quietly, feeling an ache beginning to form behind her eyes. "Oh, my God, you've been such a good baby I was lulled into a false sense of security. I thought I was actually getting a little bit good at this parenting thing!"
Ressler's laugh causes her to tear her gaze from Sammy's unhappy form. She looks up at her partner, offering him a small scowl.
"I come in peace," he says, holding out his hand. In his palm is a small, blue circle filled with gel - a teething ring, she realizes. She accepts his peace offering and grabs the ring. It's frozen and uncomfortable in her grip, but it must not be foreign to Sammy, because as soon as the ring touches the baby's cheek, he registers the cold and his crying ceases immediately as he gums toward the ring, latching on and holding it with both hands as he chews. He looks up at Ressler with wonder-filled eyes, tear tracks staining his bright red cheeks as he slobbers around the ring.
"You're fine, you're just teething, huh, buddy?" Ressler says, reaching out and taking Sammy into his arms. The baby leans his head against Ressler's shoulder and sniffs messily, leaving snot trails on the plaid material. Ressler winces but makes no move to give the baby back.
Liz smiles at them both, kissing first Sammy's cheek, then Ressler's.
"I'll finish dinner," she offers as Ressler begins walking in circles around the room, a motion that they've found calms Sammy.
"Grilled cheese!" he shouts after her. "It may be burning!"
Liz rolls her eyes but quickens her pace toward the kitchen. She finds the two sandwiches perfectly golden and quickly takes them out of the pan, opening the cabinets in curiosity as the sight of the melting cheese reminds her of her favorite childhood comfort meal. Grinning, she reaches in and grabs a can of tomato soup, popping the lid and pouring it in a saucepan, quickly whisking in some milk and sighing in happiness as she watches it froth.
After the past hour, she could use some comfort.
By the time Ressler walks into the kitchen, Sammy sleeping soundly on his shoulder and the teething ring slipping from his grasp, the soup has been put in two bowls and the sandwiches are cool enough to eat.
"Would you... grab that?" Ressler asks, angling his shoulder toward her just as Sammy's ring slips from his exhausted fingers. Liz catches it just in time and rinses it off before sticking it back in the freezer - they'll need it again when Sammy wakes up.
"Want me to put him down?" she asks, holding her arms out toward the sleeping baby. But Ressler shakes his head, settling into one of the chairs and eyeing the soup and sandwich in front of him hungrily. He begins eating with one hand, tearing his sandwich into strips and dunking them in the warm, red soup. He hums happily around the first bite, feeling the effects of skipping breakfast as he swallows the warm food.
Liz is sitting down to begin her own meal when he finally speaks around a second bite of dinner.
"Not letting him out of my sight," he says, and were it not for his gentle reminder, Liz wouldn't have remembered the fact that they were currently being hunted, using baby Sammy as bait.
Suddenly, she doesn't feel so hungry. She sets down her sandwich and breathes out heavily. "Are you sure we're doing the right thing here?" she asks quietly, picking the crust off of her sandwich to keep her hands busy. Ressler swallows his bite and motions toward her plate.
"Eat up. You'll need your strength and energy when Anton's men get here," he says, and realizing he's right, she takes a small bite, trying to reason with her stomach as it protests. "I'm not sure we're doing the right thing," he adds, finishing his sandwich and moving on to his soup. "But it's the only plan we have and James doesn't have much time left. Sammy... he has to have someone to go back to," he says, and his voice is quiet. "I won't let him go into the system. So, no, I don't like what we're doing. But it's the only option right now."
Liz nods - she doesn't like the plan, but she also doesn't want Sammy to be alone in the world when this is all over. She takes another bite of her sandwich, and despite her uneasiness, each swallow becomes easier, and before she speaks again, they're both finished with dinner and Sammy is stirring on Ressler's shoulder.
A question bubbles in her throat a she watches the baby nuzzle his face into Ressler's neck, seeking out warmth and comfort. It's a question that's come up in her mind more than once, but one she's been afraid to ask. "If we don't save James in time..." she trails off, standing to get feet and grabbing their dishes. She doesn't want to meet his eyes, because she's afraid of his answer (and she's afraid she already know what it will be).
"We will," Ressler assures her, and to keep her hands and mind busy, she rinses their dishes and pulls Sammy's teething ring from the freezer. She also grabs a prepared bottle from the fridge, although if Sammy's tantrum earlier was anything to go by, he won't want to eat because his gums are hurting so badly.
She sits down heavily in her chair and meets his gaze. He's gently patting Sammy on the back to soothe him (he hasn't worked up to full tantrum mode yet) and Liz wonders if Ressler even knows what he's doing as he sways from side to side to keep Sammy happy.
"But if we don't... " she begins again, and Ressler breaks their gaze as he hands a sleepy Sammy his teething ring again. "Would it really be so bad... I mean, Sammy wouldn't be alone -" she takes a deep breath, afraid of voicing the words, of making a fleeting thought an actual option. "If - if we kept him."
She knows she's taking a risk. A little bit of kissing and a few declarations of love are one thing, but mentioning a baby. It's a scary and wonderful idea all at once. The idea just seems right.
Sammy, with them.
Forever.
Ressler's eyes snap up, and his fingers fumble on the teething ring, losing their grip for a few seconds in which Sammy protests loudly as he kicks Ressler's stomach. He quickly recovers and returns the teething ring to Sammy's lips, which placates the baby for the time being.
It's to the sounds of Sammy gumming on his teething ring that Liz realizes what a huge mistake she's made in suggesting such a thing. Of course Ressler won't want to adopt a baby with her, they've only been ... what, dating? There have been no dates with a baby in the house. Aware of each other's mutual love for less than a week. She doesn't blame him for not wanting to -
"Liz."
She realizes she hasn't been breathing for the last ten or so seconds when Ressler snaps her out of her trance. She looks up, and he's smiling now.
"Give me a second to process before you panic, geez," he jokes, and she can tell he senses her nervousness because he's smiling in the way he know calms her down. "I think... God, I hate to even be considering the fact that we won't save James. But I think ... I would like that."
Liz breaks out into a huge grin, and it's to that scene that Raymond Reddington walks in.
"You must let me in on the joke," he requests, standing in the doorway, holding onto the wall with one hand and twirling his fedora with the other. Ressler rolls his eyes and re-positions the baby on his shoulder as he stands up. Sammy yells in protest, holding onto his teething ring more securely as he's jostled about. Reddington offers Sammy a small smile. "Because the FBI men outside are dreadfully boring. They refuse to hold a conversation and insist on staying hidden."
Liz exhales and has to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes. She turns toward Reddington, her heart still hammering in her chest from the scene he had walked in on.
"Any news?" she asks, instead of saying get the hell out, Ressler and I were talking about relationship sensitive material, like she wanted to.
Ressler has no such qualms. "What do you want?" he snaps, and his loud voice startles Sammy, who begins whimpering once more. Ressler winces, because the silence had been nice after an entire morning of crying, and he doesn't want to ruin it now.
"I wanted to update you on the happenings surrounding your temporary little family," Reddington says, not in the least perturbed by Ressler's crankiness. "Dembe and I are set up just off the main road, and the FBI has the cabin surrounded. You're covered from every angle and we'll alert you if we notice anything out of the ordinary. Relax, enjoy the cabin, and try not to worry."
Liz nodded, though she knew there was little to no chance of not worrying. She doesn't say anything, however, so the room delves into awkward silence, with Ressler and Liz shifting awkwardly from one foot to another while Reddington grins like the cat who got the canary.
"Well," he finally says, placing his hat back on his head and offering them one more knowing grin. "I suppose I will head back out. Boring through it may be."
"You do that," Ressler says, patting Sammy on the back as he raises an eyebrow.
"Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he chirps, waving behind him as he walks out the door. Ressler glares at Reddington's retreating form until he's out of view, and Liz breaks into laughter, placing a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles.
"Oh, my God, he has the worst timing," she says, laughing harder when Sammy joins her, at first startled by the sound of her laughter but then deciding to join in. He drops his teething ring and Ressler goes to grab it before giving up, joining in on the merriment.
By the time they settle down, Sammy has the hiccups and is happy enough to reach for his bottle as his bright blue eyes flicker between open and closed. Liz hands the bottle off to Ressler as Sammy gives off a tiny, sleepy baby yawn.
"Bedtime?" she asks, and Ressler nods in agreement. Sammy will get sleepy, they both know, after his dinner bottle, and because he's teething and they know he won't sleep well, they both jump at the chance to get him down early.
"For me, too, I think," Ressler chimes in, yawning as he shuffles toward the bedroom where they have Sammy's Pack 'n' Play set up. "I haven't slept well in nearly a week. I'll be no good to anyone if Anton shows and I can't keep my eyes open."
Liz nods in agreement, and for the next several minutes, they go about their new nighttime routine: bathing Sammy, dressing Sammy, rocking him to sleep (Liz sings him a song while Ressler is in the bathroom), and then turning off the lights as Sammy's bottle slips from his chubby little hands. There's nothing quite like a baby sleeping, Liz thinks as she tucks his blanket around his little body. His cheeks are rosy and his little pink lips are half open. Baby snores are adorable, too, and the little sounds Sammy makes are no exception.
Ressler yawns once more and Liz giggle quietly, grabbing his hand and hauling him toward the bed.
"Come on," she whispers. "I have plans for that fantastically comfortable looking bed."
Ressler raises one eyebrow, suddenly no longer sleepy as he lets Liz lead him to the other side of the room. He kicks off his shoes and socks and gives Liz a playful grin.
"Oh, really? Well, do share with the class."
"I have plans to do something tonight that I've wanted to do for a long time."
"I swear, if you say take up knitting right now, I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you," Ressler deadpans, only half joking. He'd become one hundred percent interested in the proceedings as soon as Liz had mentioned the large, lush bed.
Liz grins as her knees hit the bed and she sits down. Her hands reach up and play with the top button of Ressler's shirt. "What I have in mind is a little more... strenuous."
Ressler grins now: there's no mistaking Liz's intentions, and he is fully on board.
"Well then we should get on with it."
"Before Sammy wakes up," Liz amends, and Ressler cuts her off as he leans forward and kisses her neck.
"Shut up, I'm trying to get you in bed."
"I'm already in bed."
Ressler isn't sure how to get her to stop talking, so he does the only thing he knows for sure will cut her words off. He covers her lips with her own as he gently lowers her to the bed.
2:10 AM (Ressler's Cabin)
Ressler is immediately awake as the sound of glass shattering echoes throughout the house. He rolls out of bed and grabs the closest article of clothing (a pair of his sweatpants that Liz had been wearing) and pulls them on his naked frame. He grabs his t-shirt and what he assumes are Liz's panties and leans over, grasping her arm tightly to wake her without making much noise.
"Shh. Someone's in the house," he whispers, and thrusts the clothing at her as he jogs silently to the other side of the room, gently grabbing Sammy into his arms. By the time he's back at the bed, Liz is dressed. He passes her the baby and grabs her shoulders, peering into her eyes in the semi-darkness.
"Go. Into the bathroom. Keep Sammy safe."
He knows part of the plan was to let Anton's men see Sammy, but he finds that, in the middle of the night, he can't bring himself to let these dirtbags get their eyes - much less their hands - on the sweet, sleeping baby.
Liz nods and holds Sammy close to her as she moves swiftly and silently into the bathroom. Once Ressler hears the lock click into place, he exits the bedroom, gun drawn from where he'd placed it on the night stand the previous night. He clears the hallway and walks slowly toward the living room, where he can hear voices. Two, maybe three people, from the different accents and tones he can make out.
Riiiiing!
Ressler hisses in surprise and anger as the phone in his sweatpants pocket rings. He hears the voices in the next room immediately go silent as he reaches into the pocket of his pants, grabbing the phone. He almost ends the call, but when he sees the name Reddington flashing across the screen, he flicks the answer button and presses it to his ear, not offering a greeting as he balances the phone on his shoulder and backs slowly down the hallway, both hands on his gun.
"They're in the house."
Well, no shit, Sherlock.
Reddington continues. "Anton is there, too. Don't let him escape. We're on our way, less than a minute out."
The phone goes dead, and Ressler lets it drop to the floor as he backs himself up into the bedroom.
He realizes too late that he's backed himself into a corner. Going into the bathroom is not an option - Liz and Sammy are hiding in there - and he realizes he's out of places to hide when three grinning faces enter the bedroom.
Oh, God, he thinks, and raises his gun, firing off shots in quick succession, hoping to take one or two of them out to give Liz a fighting chance.
The gunshots echo loudly in the room, but the sound of the bathroom door being kicked open as Ressler falls to the floor, his shoulder on fire and his vision blurring, is the loudest sound of all.
Dun dun duuuuuun! I like happy endings, so keep that in mind as you consider lighting me on fire for that ending. :)
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