Inspired by X Ambassadors "Love Songs Drug Songs". This is gonna be so fun!
They meet Ressler in the morning and give their statements over breakfast in the restaurant at Red and Lizzie's hotel. He is still irritated that they lied to him about the location of their assignment, but there are no inconsistencies with their stories, so he is forced to let his agitation go.
Red and Lizzie are scheduled to depart later that morning on the private jet and, in a moment of uncharacteristic camaraderie, Red invites Ressler to join them, sparing him the tedious banalities of a commercial coach flight.
Their trip back to D.C. is quiet and convivial, the three of them trading details about both sides of the op, and all have a fuller picture of what had gone wrong by the time they land at the private airstrip outside of Washington.
Dembe is waiting for them when they leave the hangar. Red embraces his friend and the two share a quiet few moments alone, discussing the fine points of Dembe's trip to Egypt.
They load their luggage into the towncar and share quiet, affable conversation on the short ride to the Post Office. Red asks Dembe to drop the agents at work, assuring them he will be back in a few hours after taking care of his own business at his safehouse.
"Thanks for the ride, and the flight," Ressler offers, climbing out of the car.
"Don't mention it," Red waves him off cordially.
Ressler unloads both his suitcase and Elizabeth's from the trunk and heads for the door to the Post Office.
Red turns to Lizzie in the backseat of the car. He covers her hand with his on the seat, stroking his fingers over hers. "I'll see you in a few hours?"
She smiles at him, reassured, "I'll be here."
Her eyes search his face. She fights the craving she feels to press her lips to his. They are too near work; there are cameras, other agents, and Ressler watching. Her eyes settle on his mouth, the tip of her tongue darting out to moisten the rim of her bottom lip.
He is transfixed by the motion of her lip, folding under the edge of her teeth as she draws it in, biting down on her own desire. A surge of longing shoots straight to his groin as he remembers the torment she wrought with that tongue only last night. He wants….. He lets out a ragged breath; there is nothing he can do about what he wants just now.
"Will we ever have enough time?" she asks him unexpectedly.
"We'll make the time," he assures her, squeezing her hand. "We'll steal it if we have to. And we'll make it count."
She smiles, mollified, "Later."
"Until then," he whispers. Lizzie climbs out of the car.
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"Harold, we were almost murdered!" Red is shouting in Agent Cooper's office three hours later, pacing back and forth in front of the windows.
Cooper shakes his head, "The FBI is not in the habit of granting vacation time to every agent every time they are endangered," he explains, exasperated. "If we did, there'd never be any agents in the field!"
"You are going to give her some time off. I won't have my immunity arrangement compromised because Agent Keen is unable to do her job," Red's tone is adamant.
"I'm afraid it just isn't possible right now. We're short-staffed as it is," he presses his fingers to his temples; arguing with Red is giving him a headache.
"What if it was a 'working' vacation?" Red offered.
"What do you mean?"
"I have a new Blacklister for you, Harold, but this one requires some research and a good deal of finesse," Red explains. "We can work on it from my safehouse, but the time off would allow us to be flexible in terms of travel and workload. I am convalescing, you know. Broken bones can be very…..limiting."
Cooper pauses for a moment, thinking it over. "How long do you suggest?"
"A week."
"Three days," he counters.
Red purses his lips. "Done."
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Red sweeps into the office she shares with Ressler cheerfully, fedora in hand, jacket draped over his arm.
"Agent Keen, gather your things. We're done here for today."
Lizzie looks up from her computer, surprised. They have only been back a few hours.
"What?" she asks, confused.
"We've been granted a brief reprieve after our traumatic experience in the field," he emphasizes the word brief for Agent Ressler's benefit, seated a few feet away at the other desk.
"I can't leave now," she protests. "I have paperwork; reports to file on our op-"
He interrupts, "Bring them along." He can't quite keep the annoyance at having his plans tempered by Agent Cooper from his voice, "It's a working holiday."
Within minutes, Elizabeth packs up her laptop and the relevant paperwork and is sliding her purse strap onto her shoulder as Red finishes outlining his plan for the next Blacklister to them. His cellphone rings and he excuses himself, stepping out of their office to take the call.
Ressler is looking at her pointedly. "You sure you want to be stuck working with Reddington for the next 72 hours?" he asks. "You could just work from here while he rests up at home."
"I'll be alright," she covers, "You know he won't get anything done if one of us isn't there to needle him. I'll take the bullet this time," she grins at her partner.
"Ok," he conceded, hands in the air. "You know what you're doing, I guess."
Red sticks his head back inside the doorway, "You ready?" She reads the eagerness in his face.
"Yep, all set." Lizzie follows him out through the bustling corridors to the elevator. She waits for the doors to slide closed before she pins him with her stare. "What are you doing?"
His hand finds hers at his side before he answers. "Stealing time," His hand squeezes hers, "And making it count."