Chapter Text
Within the private confines of her own mind Liz could be completely honest with herself. She had missed this place.
If Raymond ever asked her, she would freely admit there were several aspects of her former life that she would sometimes pause and quietly mourn the loss. Liz had loved the comfortable oasis she had crafted out of her generic townhouse; her fondness for that had lasted far longer than her fondness for her former co-resident. She regretted that she had needed to suddenly cut off the treasured friendships she had carefully nurtured throughout her Quantico training and the move to D.C. After all, even if she were not forbidden to contact them for security reasons, her old buddies would likely be so appalled by her infamous new companion and/or her outstanding warrants for treason that any visit would be awkward at the very least. Liz would even allow that she sometimes thought back wistfully on a few of the small casual moments of her daily routine, like her yoga class, or chatting with the nice barista at the local coffee shop she would visit on Sunday mornings. Often when the weather was nice she missed Hudson the dog and their long leisurely walks through the park. She could even admit she missed her job, or at least its finer moments; the camaraderie with her office mates, and those times she had basked in the glow of her boss's approval at a moment of success. All of these, she would cheerfully agree, had been replaced by wonderful new places and people, but those memories were still carefully treasured and willingly shared.
She felt silly even admitting to herself that she also missed shopping at the local mall. The mass commercialism, the cheap trendy clothes, the bland greasy aromas emanating from the food court; all of these things she knew she should now find bourgeois and repulsive, but instead she found herself almost giddy with anticipation as she barged through the main entrance doors half an hour before her scheduled rendezvous time. She had told Raymond only that she was going to meet with Elenna; she didn't tell him where, and she had to trust the omni-present men on protective duty not to run back and tell any embarrassing tales.
Despite her public location she smiled to herself at the thought of his reaction. Of course Raymond wouldn't tease her or make any disparaging comments, even if on the inside he would likely be shuddering at one of her few remaining common ways. Nowadays, it seemed like nothing she could do or say could bring forth any kind of negative response from her fiancé. Despite all of the storm clouds looming ahead on the horizon, since she had answered 'yes' he had reached some kind of contented peaceful armistice with the world. Each of his closest associates had come privately to Liz to explain they had never seen him this happy before, and each of them thanked her for making this possible.
Liz did a lap alone around the bottom floor of the shopping plaza, treasuring the feeling of once again fitting in neatly and anonymously in the midst of the throngs of other eager shoppers. It was Thursday afternoon on a early summer Washington day, and the air was thick with the illicit joy that comes from sneaking out of work a few hours early for no redeeming reason. She hadn't been the one to suggest the mall; that had been Elenna, who also held fond memories of the times they had slipped out of the office together for an hour or so to shop and talk and just get away from whatever case was currently weighing on their minds. Inevitably, a few laps would lead to a eureka moment from one or the other; it had been their secret weapon in the war against the 'listers.
The agent in question was waiting patiently at the rendezvous bench next to the escalators and obligatory public art project. She jumped up from her seat and greeted Liz with a hug and squeal of happiness. Then she held her back at arm's length and studied her like a suspect. "Girl, look at you! Oh, my goodness, I love the new haircut!" She gushed brightly.
Liz allowed herself to be highly appraised by her best friend for a few more minutes, then eagerly returned the favor. "El, you continue to rock the federal blues!" she declared with a smile, motioning to her friend's new work suit.
"I found a new tailor that knows how to hide a weapon or two along with the muffin top," Elenna admitted cheerfully.
Greeting over, they quickly decided on which floor to invade first and stepped together on to the up escalator. "So how long are you in town?" Elenna asked cheerfully. And with a more muted tone added, "Is this a working visit?"
"Just a few days," Liz answered firmly. "And no 'lister this time, I promise. Just a visit with some old buddies."
"That's what you said last time. Are you sure?"
Liz was sure. "I promise."
"Uh huh," Agent Davidson had been distracted by the luscious pair of black satin evening shoes featured prominently under a giant sale banner. Her nose was right up against the glass as she heaved a disappointed sigh. "Adorable, but it would be a tragic waste to abandon them to the back of the closet or on another crappy undercover duty like last week's nasty hoochie club. Oh, that was so awful. Have you ever tried to arrest someone while wearing just some spangly underwear?"
Liz had to laugh out loud in spite of her friend's earnestness. After a moment Elenna shrugged, rolled her eyes and grinned. "We're taking on some extra cases for main justice, since our primary mission seems to have just completely stalled out. Don had to work a case involving a dirty judge getting paid off to let snotty rich embezzlers escape jail time. I really thought he was going to sign up with the General Ludd folks after that."
"So how is Don doing?" Liz asked with the thinnest veneer of innocent nonchalance.
"Agent Ressler is a gorgeous pile of sweet hot mess," Elenna replied with resignation. "Please don't ask me to describe our relationship, or if that word even applies to our peculiar situation. I just think of him as my partner with benefits."
Liz's smile was the one shared by all happy brides to be that were convinced everyone in the world was just waiting their turn to be as happily paired up with someone special. "So you two are an item now?"
"Agent Keen, we're professionals. We do not have inappropriate relationships at work," Elenna corrected her primly. Then grinned widely. "We have inappropriate relationships at his apartment."
"You know, El, its a black site, not a dating site," Liz teased.
"Well, I wanted to follow your excellent example in finding true romance, but then we were fresh out of caged felons!" Elenna exclaimed back with mock offense. "And to my great dismay I found out that somehow all of the other guys on the wanted list are unavailable for any kind of long-term relationship. So I had to settle for a fed!"
Liz laughed good-naturedly; she had sensed the continuing thawing in her friend's feelings towards Raymond since Denver. They had not yet formed the friendship she was hoping would someday develop, but Elenna's teasing now showed a higher percentage of affection than derision. Things were good enough between them that Liz was only half-serious when she had sat them both down in the recent past and made each swear to her they would never try to kill each other again.
She smiled at her friend. 'You should have asked me. I could have fixed you up with someone nice and non-violent."
"Hook me up with Dembe. He's hot!" Elenna replied immediately. "Come on, admit it, you think so too! She thinks he's hot too!" she had suddenly whirled around and loudly directed this towards the men on protective detail just a dozen feet behind them. Agent Davidson had picked both of them out of the crowds as soon as Liz had arrived. She had been a little professionally irritated they were so easy to find. She expected better work from Red's people.
Liz shushed her while blushing deeply and hoping word of this wouldn't travel back to the safe house by unamused bodyguards. "Please don't get me busted at the mall, Agent Davidson. You'll completely ruin my street cred as an international fugitive."
"FBI's number five most wanted captured outside the Banana Republic. Yes, that would be embarrassing." Elenna agreed.
They spent some time lounging on a nearby bench in companionable silence. The moments of girlish levity had been wonderful for both; they each spent far too few moments relaxing like that these days. "So how is Bad Boy doing these days?" Elenna asked finally.
Liz assured her friend Raymond was quite well and sent his warmest regards. "He's always glad to see you and Don. He'll be up in New York for the next two days, but he'd like to visit with both of you before we leave town."
It was time to switch floors, they agreed, and get down to business and visit a couple of their favorite stores downstairs. As they silently perused a rack of summer dresses, Liz said suddenly and with some trepidation, "So, I have a favor to ask you."
"Work or play?" El replied absently as she eyed a stunning blue dress that would be perfect, she thought dryly, if Don ever took her anywhere that wasn't fast food or work duty.
"I would be so happy if you would be my maid of honor," Liz asked hesitantly. She waited for a response from her stunned friend.
Elenna stared at her, with an expression that was trying desperately not to let disapproving share space with astonished. "What?" she managed finally. After a minute she could add a little more. "You're getting married?"
"In Cuba," Liz admitted. "Even with the new thaw in relations, there won't be any extradition laws enacted for some time. Raymond wants everything to be done officially and in a church."
"Wow." Elenna's senses then finally caught up with her instinctive reactions. "Of course, I'll be there for you. Congratulations!" she exclaimed just a little too late, and hugged her friend tightly to make up for that.
Liz had been realistic in setting her expectations for this conversation, so she wasn't too disappointed by her friend's lack of enthusiasm. "I know you think this is not a very good idea, but El, this is what we both want. Wait until you see Raymond; he's been so excited about planning the wedding. He'll spill all of the details to you, I'm sure, but they're supposed to be a surprise for me."
"He's planning the wedding?" Elenna repeated with wonder. "Oh, my ...."
"I know Raymond can get a little exuberant when he's excited about a project," Liz admitted. "But its not like I would know the best wedding cake bakeries in Havana. Dembe will be the best man, of course, but we both would be thrilled if Don would come down to Cuba with you. I'll make sure you catch the bouquet."
"I'll just hit him with it," Elenna admitted cheerfully. "When's the date?"
"August 29th," Liz answered promptly.
Elenna shrugged. 'Tell Groomzilla I'll be there, but I pick out my own bridesmaid dress, all right?"
Having settled the big agenda item for their meeting, they returned to their shopping and light-topic chatter until Liz's phone beeped, and she regretfully informed her friend she had other business she needed to attend to. Elenna wisely didn't ask about the business, but hugged her friend and admonished her to call again before skipping town.
When she had said her final goodbyes to Lizzie at the main entrance to the mall, it was the peak of rush hour and a lousy time to head back into the city and her empty loft. Elenna decided instead to treat herself to a calorie bomb drink at one of the trendy little coffee shops camped out within shouting distance of the plaza. She found one reasonably packed with the clientele so specific to D.C. - each table held one besuited thirty-something, with a cell phone parked next to their lattes and either a laptop or tablet holding the customer's undivided attention. She shrugged slightly in disapproval of her own holier-than-thou attitude, since she was still wearing her work suit, and if her laptop wasn't so highly classified she probably would have it with her as well.
She snuck a peek at her phone and pursed her lips ruefully. Five messages total from three family members, and a couple of texts from Don that were ninety-nine percent probability of being work-muck she didn't want to dive into now. She returned her phone to her jacket pocket and decided to spend a few minutes people watching instead.
Suits came, sucked down lattes, and continued on their way, with no one distinctive or interesting enough to hold her attention for too long. The prime dinner hours had commenced and the place was rapidly emptying out when someone finally piqued her curiosity. First off, he was suited but lacking a tie, which was a felony charge in this conservative town. Second, she smiled involuntarily, he was gorgeous. Probably a decade and a bit more older than her, but far too handsome to be dismissed just because of a meaningless difference in numbers. Blond hair, blue eyes, angelic smile; he caught the eye of every woman and several men in the room.
Elenna used all of her best Quantico-trained methods to hide her suddenly intense surveillance of his graceful movements towards her corner of the room. He chose an empty table nearby and quickly pulled out a phone from his pocket to engage his attention. She found herself studying the bottom of her empty cup, having decided that she would indeed order another round instead of the departure she had been planning. Don who? she thought grimly. They sure didn't meet anyone's definition of committed relationship.
She felt his gaze fall on her and covered her pleased smile with her empty cup. Then she tossed her hair back as she turned directly towards him to catch him at his observation. "Hi!" he greeted with a friendly and surprisingly deep voice. "Interesting crowd, isn't it?"
"D.C. workers running amok," she answered lightly. "You not from here?"
"I'm from San Francisco," he declared. "There suits and ties are worn only if you're getting married or buried. Not a very lively crew, is it?" he observed, peering around again at their shared view. The people were indeed very quiet as they remained on task with their various forms of technology.
"Sorry to disappoint, but we're not exactly a rocking kind of town," Elenna answered with a shrug. She fingered her own jacket to illustrate her observation and place in the scheme. "Are you here on business?"
"Yep, it's a work trip, but I was hoping to find time for a few good times as well." He glanced pointedly at the empty seat of her table. "Are you waiting for someone?"
"Come on over," she invited with a wave of her hand. "I'm Elenna."
"What an interesting name!" he declared as he gracefully transferred his place-setting from table to table. "Much more interesting than mine. I'm Smith."
"You don't have a first name?" Elenna was growing more intrigued. All of her mental danger bells were still ringing harmless, so she let herself lean in a little closer for a good old-fashioned flirtation.
"Well, you know how people sometimes go by just last name at their office? I got so used to that I do it all the time now. What do you do for a living, Elenna?"
Oh, here it goes, she thought grimly. "I work at the FBI." This was the deciding moment when the man either backs away stuttering or fires up their inner Bond fanboy.
"That must be exciting!" he exclaimed with surprised enthusiasm. "I bet you have some fascinating stories to tell." He leaned forward in his seat, from all appearances ready to hear a number of those tales right now.
Fanboy. "Not really," she lied. "Most of my days are swamped with filling out paperwork and meetings." The next cliff for potential dates to fall over had developed after her joining the Post Office. This was the delicate dance of seeing how many questions she could bluff through or evade before either the potential guy stopped asking job questions, or she would have to bring 'classified' into the discussion and scare him away. She sighed into her cup. It was either do the dance or admit her dating pool was now limited to the single men of the Post Office: Res, Aram, and the variety of 'listers or other charmers she arrested, interrogated, or sometimes shot during the course of a typical day.
"Oh, I doubt that." He was still smiling with evident interest. If this interest was only for her job she would take that for a start. His eyes were a startling shade of blue that were hard to keep herself from falling into.
"Really, it's not what you see on TV," she insisted weakly.
"Come on, there has to be some exciting moments, here and there." he argued good-naturedly. "You did get to shoot at Reddington a couple of times, right? That had to be fun."
Elenna flinched as she caught the name dropped so casually into the conversation. Flirting was over; her hand flew to the weapon in her inner jacket pocket at the same moment he rose to his feet. He shook his head in warning, still smiling as he leaned over to whisper in her ear.
"We play on the same team, Agent Davidson. Ask Aram about me. Tell him I said hi!" he called back cheerfully over his shoulder as he made a graceful exit through the gauntlet of tightly packed wooden chairs. She followed as quickly as possible, murmuring apologies as she banged into tables and chairs and angry fellow customers.
By the time she burst out of the doors with her fingers wrapped around the grip of her favorite Sig, he was already gone from view. Standing in the middle of the parking lot, she grabbed instead for her phone to realize incredulously it now shared space in her pocket with a folded-up take-out menu from the cafe. Scrawled across the top in bold sharpied letters was:
Your friends have powerful enemies.
Be careful who you trust.
Will call at noon tomorrow.
Agent Smith, San Francisco office.'