Ain't Gonna Kiss You

A/N: I wrote this during a 2-hour flight to northern California for family holiday vacation (I miss Keenler so much, and this story idea popped into my head). Just simple, fluffy, and silliness for my favorite couple. The ending was written with much haste (I wrote it during landing), so I apologize if it seems too rushed. And MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!

. . . . . . . .

Chapter 1

"Damn…what the hell…"

The plastic lid of his coffee cup had popped off while Ressler was drinking it, and now he was bent over and fumbling in the darkness, cursing under his breath as he felt around under the car seat for that damned object. After two deep heaves of frustrated huff, he gave up the fickle search and sat up on the seat, leaning back to straighten his back, "This just gets better and better."

Liz had been eyeing the entire irate scene unfold, and she looked upon her partner with caution and burden, with a bit of disapproval mixed in. Earlier in the evening, they had received a lead from Reddington, who had informed them that the notorious criminal Abraham Abruezzi will be conducting arms sales at the warehouse by the DC port that night. And now they were assigned surveillance at the west entrance of the warehouse, sitting and shivering in the car in the dead of the most unforgiving wintry frost.

She stole a quick glance at the car radio, and the small clock blinked 11:28 P.M. They had been sitting there for four hours, and by now the temperature in the car had dropped by twenty degrees, the coffee had turned bitter cold, the leather gloves no longer shielded from mean frost bite, and her toes felt as though being pricked with unrelenting icicles. And Ressler…by his heavy huffing and the puffing of fitful breath curling like ghostly ash against the night…he's had enough of this. Absolutely enough of this.

And to elevate the matters to complete perfection, the night happened to be Christmas Eve. And every now and then she made a wistful glance toward the west, to gaze at the twinkling of red and white lights of the city skyscrapers yonder, beyond the foreboding darkness enveloping their lonesome car. She didn't think Ressler cared that it was Christmas Eve, but for her the night's surveillance felt cruel in the bitter irony…as if for that one night, she should be somewhere sheltered in warmth, laughter, and merriment. Just for one stinkin' night, out of the entire stinkin' year.

"Hey…" Her voice cracked between the chattering of her teeth as she turned to Ressler. By the faint light of the lone lamp above, she could make out his face, with his tightlipped frown and squinted focus upon the warehouse entrance. He was clutching onto his dark overcoat…it was freezing as hell, and he wasn't going to pretend any of it.

"What?"

"You alright?"

"No, I'm not." His curt response was biting, but just as expected. She felt tempted to ask him if he'll be going to Aram's Christmas party that night, but she thought better of the situation and held her tongue. Plus, who knew when this nightmare of surveillance would come to its dreadful end.

"Just relax…" Liz offered instead, to the profile of his proud nose that had begun to sniffle.

"Yup, I'll do just that…try to relax as I'm freezing my ass off. Just make sure you have them defrost my face first…wouldn't want the loony smile to become permanent."

She ignored his sarcasm without a blink, as she often does. "He'll show up…soon."

"What…and cut short of this perfectly nice evening? Who knew sub-zero would feel so cozy…"

"Ressler…"

"Yup, it's too early…I could still feel my toes."

She rolled her eyes, which Ressler didn't care to notice, "Abreuzzi will be here."

"Maybe he's out for the Christmas festivities…he is Catholic, after all. Unorthodox, I believe…but does that matter?"

Lizzie was just as resolute to not buckle under his abrasive derision, and said flatly, "The lead is solid."

"But if he shows up wearing a goddamn Santa outfit, I'll shoot him on sight…just watch me."

"Oh, Jesus…" She didn't mean to sound so prickly, but she was done playing the neutral grounds, "You could call this in, you know."

He shifted in his seat with a sharp tug of his coat, "Yeah, well, what would uncle Red say? This is his lead…and when he says, 'Jump', we say, 'How high?' Isn't that how it is usually, Keen?"

She eyed him suspiciously, "If you're suggesting that…"

"That is exactly what I'm suggesting. If Red says this or that, we just take it at face value and we follow his orders like it was some Holy Grail of Crime. And heaven forbid, Red could never be wrong."

"Ressler, I wouldn't bite the hand that feeds you…"

"He doesn't feed me."

"Or the hand that keeps this machine going."

"Well, right now, I'm thinkin' of throwing a wrench into this machine, and calling it a day."

Liz kept her eyes toward the darkened alley, as she thought she had seen a faint movement. Ressler's eyes followed the direction of her focus, but it turned out to be just a very cold and hungry dog. She breathed a sigh of tense suspense, and turned to him once again, "Are you pissed off at sitting in this freezing car…or the fact that it was Reddington who sent you to this freezing car?"

"Or to a blind chase."

"I hardly think it's a blind chase. That's not his style."

Ressler didn't respond to her, perhaps out of agreement that even in the most calculated menace, it would never gratify Reddington to send the two agents into fruitless labor. Even in jest, Reddington would not be amused. But Liz also knew that Ressler would never acknowledge that, in the dimmest possibility that the devil may find it flattering.

"One more hour…let's give it one more hour." Liz offered sheepishly, "I'll report it to Cooper."

"The hell with it…had a feeling this would go south. And it had to be during the coldest night of the western hemisphere."

She noted his sharp inflection, "Are you now pissed off that we're calling it off?"

"No."

"Then what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing…"

"You're acting like one cranky child. Or a grumpy old man. Choose one…either works for me."

He snorted softly, but by the suspended pause, Liz knew he wasn't in the slightest mood to be bothered with against his whim. She exhaled deeply, just like one of his long huffs, "Look, my entire body is now a giant popsicle, and I'm trapped in here with the damn Grinch who stole Christmas. Oh, wait a minute…"

"What…?"

"Can't believe it…"

"What?"

"You're cranky because you're stuck here on Christmas Eve…"

Ressler let out a fitful of muffled chuckle, "Yup, you got me."

"How did I not see that earlier…"

"You're getting a little rusty there…but then again, I'm a man of mystery…not easy to read, you know."

Liz rolled her eyes, "So…what's the deal?"

"Huh?"

"You have plans or something…for tonight?"

"Tonight's already over…it's after midnight."

"You know what I mean…it is still technically Christmas Eve."

"Technically, it's not…"

Liz shot him a squinted glance, and even in the darkness their eyes met for a brief moment. She knew what he was up to, and wasn't about to let him off so easily. "Ressler…you're doing that again."

"What?"

"Evading my questions…"

"Am I?"

"Yeah, you are."

"Hmm…I didn't realize…"

She chuckled under her breath, "And you're still doing it…"

Liz was sure his lips had parted into a small grin just then, and he turned to her in an earnest tone, "OK, fine…what important question might you have for me?"

"Come on," she suddenly felt like a silly school girl asking a boy about his plans, "Do you really need me to repeat myself?"

"Oh, you mean…plans for tonight…for Christmas thing?"

"Yeah…"

"Keen, do I look like I'd be the…Christmas party kinda guy?"

"Surprisingly, yes…"

Ressler let out a low laughter, "I've always suspected your profiling skills to be a bit overrated, and now I know it is grossly off the rocker."

"And your Grinch persona is just a façade to hide your inner child's joy of Christmas…decorating the tree, picking out that special angel…maybe a little bit of mistletoe…eggnog…Santa down the chimney…were you naughty or nice…"

"Jesus Christ…"

"Oh, he's certainly part of it."

Ressler was no longer laughing along, and perhaps she had laid it a tad too thick, to the point of where he was starting to get annoyed. "Keen, sorry to disappoint you…but you have the wrong guy. My plan for tonight is the party of one, in my apartment, some cold beer, and ESPN."

She had nothing to say to that, for she absolutely believed him. "Aram's having a party tonight, you know."

"Uh huh."

"If you're up for it, you should drop by. Everyone will be there."

Ressler paused a slight, but it wasn't to mull over the possibility. No, it was to dull the rejection, which he flatly gave without a blink, "Nah…I don't think so."

"There will be plenty of food and alcohol…"

"Hmmm…"

"Wouldn't you want to see Aram let loose?"

Ressler chuckled softly, "It sounds tempting…I bet Aram is a crying drunk."

"I was thinking he would be more of a no mouth filter drunk."

"Or, he might be a sleazy drunk…turning into a stripper drunk."

"Oh, God. Then he should just be a sleeping drunk."

"No…he's a sad drunk, I just know it. He'd be crying, wailing…and clinging onto everyone, sobbing and mourning about the torture and the misfortune of this thing called life…"

They shared an easy laughter, and Ressler appeared a bit more relaxed…and a bit more pliable. "So, you're coming, then?"

He squinted his eyes at her, and shook his head, "Gotta say, you're strangely persistent."

"Ressler, it's only one night out of the entire year."

He didn't say a word, but kept his eyes fixed upon the warehouse with tightly pursed lips. But she didn't feel discouraged, "It must be the company. Oh, the bother and the burden of pretending to actually like the people you see almost twenty-four hours of your day…"

"Oh, Jesus…"

"We are a terrible bunch…ugly and terrible…and you're just itching to clock out…"

"I actually like one or two of you…" He snorted softly, turning to Liz with a small grin.

"Then it must be the booze. You don't like free booze."

"Funny…"

"Then…is it the gathering of people? Like it's going to be awkward, and you have to answer personal questions…"

Ressler turned to face her, cutting her off efficiently, "Look, Keen…I ain't gonna make it out to a damn party. That is just not my thing, and you know it. So count me out tonight."

She knew that all along, but it was still disappointing to hear it. "Alright, fine…"

After few minutes of silently watching the unchanging still view of the shadowy warehouse, Ressler yawned and stretched his legs, "So, should we call this in? Both of us know this isn't happening tonight."

"Alright…I'll call Cooper."

She made a phone call to Cooper, reporting to him that Abreuzzi did not show and that the parameters were clean. The connection was brief, and after she hung up, Ressler started the car and turned on the heater.

"What did he say?"

"He called off the surveillance."

"Anything else?"

"Debrief tomorrow morning."

"Got it…"

"Oh, and you won't believe where Cooper was."

"Where?"

"At Aram's party."

. . . . . . . . .

Ressler dropped Liz off at her apartment, and even as they bid a hasty good-bye, she didn't bring up Aram's party again, for she knew he was not coming and he'd be too stubborn to change his mind. But just as she entered the warm haven of her own apartment, she herself had second thoughts about going to Aram's party. They've just been on surveillance duty for four hours, and she was dreadfully tired and every bone in her body seemed to ache. And as she switched on the lights of her bedroom, her eyes longingly rested on the sight of her bed and the pajamas strewn on it, with every faculty of her mind…and every muscle of her body…begging her to give in to the delight of respite and slumber.

"No…no…no. I've been trying to convince Ressler to go, so if I don't show up, then it's…it's….no, I have to go, " she scolded herself, "They're expecting me…and I don't want to skip out, just because Ressler skipped out."

And resolutely, Liz marched to her closet, and pulled out the most Christmas-y outfit she could think of: red turtleneck sweater and her trusty black jeans. She had no greens, so this would have to do.

Then she went into the bathroom to attempt to fix her hair, but the more she fussed with it, the more it battled back. Her hair had been frozen in icicles…and now in its thawed state, it was a limp and lifeless mess, completely uncooperative and resistant to the owner's begging. Finally, she decided to just put it in a pony tail, and after a loud heave of frustration, she looked in the mirror for the last time.

"Damn it…damn it all to hell…I look horrible, and I'm very very late." She muttered to herself as she looked for a lipstick, "Damn Ressler. So damn stubborn."

She caught herself spewing the last sentiments, and she momentarily froze, feeling caught off guard that his name existed in the realm of her fussing over makeup. Yes, she was disappointed that he's not going tonight, but she was surprised at just how much she was upset by it. She just couldn't understand him…it's just a simple party, what was the big deal? And…and…she was going…so he should go, too. Isn't that what partners do…have each other's back in every situation? And…doesn't he want to keep her company? Wasn't it obvious to him that she wanted him to go…with her?

"Apparently not. Now I know who my real friends are." And she angrily flipped off the bathroom lights and walked out, grabbing her keys from the dining table and walking toward the door of her apartment before she changed her mind.

. . . . . . . . .

"Hey, Liz, you made it."

"Yeah…"

Samar smiled warmly as soon as she spotted Liz walking toward her, grabbing a cold can of beer from the bucket set on the kitchen counter. "I heard about the surveillance. What a mess, huh?"

Liz took the beer from Samar's hand, "Nah, it wasn't so bad." She was fibbing, but she wasn't feeling up to retelling the horror of the night. She took a small sip of the beer, and looked around Aram's living room, which was surprisingly crowded. She spotted Cooper in the corner couch, sitting with his two other men and having a very animated discussion. There were also a lot of people she wasn't familiar with.

"They are Aram's friends…from college, I believe." Samar offered, as if she could read Liz's mind.

"Surprised it's still crowded, given the late hour."

"Yeah," Samar offered a tight smile, while watching Aram pass by with a toothy grin. "I think Cooper is a bit tipsy. By the way, where's Don?"

"Ressler…is not coming."

"Oh, really…"

"He said he's…tired."

"I see…" Samar reached for a bottle of wine across the counter, and poured herself a glass, "Somehow I doubt that's the reason."

"Well, you know…he's…"

"Yeah, I know how he is. But still, I'm a bit surprised that he didn't follow you here like a smitten puppy dog."

"Ah…it wasn't too hard for him to say no to me, several times and some more."

Samar chuckled under her breath, and she bit her lip as if she was amused, "Liz, be careful now…"

"About what…?"

"You sound like a girl who just got rejected by a boy."

"What? No…" Liz was taken aback by Samar's audacious words, regardless of harmless humor, and she felt as though robbed of words, "That's…just ridiculous."

"Liz…"

"Ressler is free to do whatever he wants…it doesn't matter to me at all."

"Come on now, I only meant that as jest…I just like to poke fun at Don, that's all. Please understand…"

Liz took a long gulp of the beer, to calm her nerves and to erase her face of the troubled countenance, "Of course, I understand…Ressler and I are partners, after all. I'm used to people pairing us up, all for harmless jest. It happens all the time…"

"Right…" Samar poured herself another glass of red wine, "So…are you going in to the office tomorrow?"

"Looks like it…Cooper wants a debrief early in the morning, regarding tonight's case." Liz answered with a nod, and it didn't escape her that Samar had changed the subject. A bit clunky, but it'd do.

Soon after, Liz decided to venture out to the food table, and filled her plate with whatever she could scrounge around on the diminishing platters. She and Cooper exchanged some words, but he didn't say a word of business nature, as expected. Aram also introduced her to many of his male friends, but she didn't like the way he said she was "divorced", as if he was setting her up to be a candidate of some sorts. She also drank a whole lot of alcohol, as Samar continued to fill her hand with some kind of something.

It's been about an hour that Liz had been at the party when Samar tapped on her shoulder, "I can't believe it…"

"What is it?"

"You wouldn't believe who just walked through the door…"

"Who?"

"Don…he's here."

Liz quickly turned around, and indeed Ressler was by the door, across the living room, shaking hands with Aram and Cooper. She couldn't believe he was there, after all the fuss about parties not being his style, or whatever he had said earlier. Just what the hell was he doing? And whatever happened to the party of one with the beer at his apartment? Did he…did he just watch her do all the work of trying to convince him, when he had planned to come all along….?

"Aren't you gonna go talk to him?" Samar nudged her arm, eyeing her with a hint of confusion and wariness.

"Uhh…"

"Liz?"

"Umm…I'll just give him some time to greet people, you know, get settled in."

The truth was, Liz didn't want to be the one who approached him first, and she couldn't even explain to herself why she felt that way. Never mind that she had now fully reverted back to high school, but at that moment, she just couldn't help it. With the throng of people between them, Liz eyed Ressler as he made his way around the room. She felt a tinge of disappointment when he did not once scan the room to look for her.

Ressler spent about good ten minutes by the food table, talking to a few of Aram's friends. This was getting quite exasperating…just what the hell were they talking about, and what could be that interesting? Just when is he going to come talk to her?

"Oh, the hell with it…" And with an angry huff, Liz made her way toward the food table, avoiding Ressler's eyes but keeping him in the peripheral. She lingered at the end of the table, pretending to look over some cheese and crackers, when she heard his laughter emanating. Something about his laughter exasperated her even more, and she made a bold step closer to Ressler.

"Keen…" He finally spotted her, as she was a mere two steps away, awkwardly clutching onto the fruit bowl.

"Ressler?" Liz feigned a surprise as best as she could, but she wasn't certain whether he was wholly convinced.

"Hey…"

"What are you doing here?"

"Just came about ten minutes ago."

"Whatever happened to your party of one?"

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, "Well, you know…there's always room for more."

"So…you are the Christmas party kinda guy after all."

"I wouldn't go that far…" Ressler grinned, just as he scanned the food laid about on the table, but it didn't look like he was about to partake in any of the unfortunate leftovers. "How long have you been here?"

"Just about an hour or so."

"To be honest, Keen, you look exhausted." His doleful eyes rested upon her face, "You thinkin' about heading out soon?"

"Umm…yeah…in a little bit." She kept her eyes wide and put on a pleasant smile, but at all she wanted to do was to hide somewhere, away from his sly scrutinizing gaze. And her mind quickly went to work, analyzing how her face may look at the moment…lipstick smudged from eating, dark under-eye circles highlighting its puffiness, sallow complexion from lack of sleep, and the last bit of fleshy makeup evaporated from the heat of the room. Ressler was right…she looked like hell. And the thing is…she didn't care about it until he came along. Damn it.

"So…" Ressler went on as unaware as ever, "who knew Aram had…friends? And they're…normal looking."

"This, coming from the guy who is the one in the party of one."

"Hey…I'm just particular about the company I keep."

"Assuming any company would want to keep you."

"Hey…I have friends…"

"I don't count."

"I never said you were."

They exchanged a flicker of nervous glance, and for reasons beyond her own understanding, Liz felt the sudden urge to…get away. "Anyway, I should get back to Samar."

"Yeah, I'm gonna stick with Cooper for a bit. I'm not staying long…just making rounds, showing my face. Then I'm outta here."

"OK…so, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure."

Ressler nodded to Liz as they made their way toward their respective company, but they lingered at the narrow doorway of the kitchen. He offered her the entrance with a flair of hand, "Ladies first."

"Thanks…"

But just as she was about to walk through, she heard a loud commotion and laughter, with a loud gasp coming from Aram who seemed to be pointing at them. And he was calling out to others, "Look! They're standing underneath the mistletoe!"

Soon, others gathered around Liz and Ressler under the doorway of the kitchen, with a quiet but enthusiastic energy of wanting to witness the source of Aram's glee. Liz spotted Samar smiling with a smug satisfaction, while Cooper watched on with a patient grin. Some were clapping, and some were raising their wine glasses in a congratulatory offering.

"I don't believe it…" Ressler muttered as he cursed at the mistletoe hung above their heads, "This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever…I mean, how old are we? Twelve?"

"You have to kiss! Agent Ressler, you know the rules…" Aram yelled at the two above the heightening claps around them, and the pockets of crowd were chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

"Damn it…these twelve year old bastards…" Ressler frowned, not hiding his irritation one bit.

"Ressler, watch it…"

He glowered at her words, and leaned closer to whisper in her ear, "Well, I'm gonna take that damn plant and rip it to pieces."

She hissed back at his flushed face, "You will do no such thing."

"Then, just what the hell do you suggest that I do?"

They turned to look back at the crowd, becoming more troubled at the relentless and unceasing eagerness as they stood waiting, with Aram being the ring leader of sorts. He was leading the dreaded chant, with his arms flailing to the beat of the cry.

"I will murder him…" Ressler whispered in her ear again, "And I won't regret it."

"Ressler…"

"Or punch that smug grin off his face."

"Stop it…"

"So typical of him to pull such a cheesy move…it's the only way for him to get a girl to kiss him."

"Shut up, Ress…"

He leaned closer to her, enough for her to feel his hot breath upon her face, "Keen, don't be defending that childish behavior!"

"I am not!"

Ressler didn't leave their small space, "Well…whatever you're thinking…you could stop thinking about it."

"What?"

"Because it's not happening."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

The crowd had now begun to clap in unison, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to hear Ressler's voice. Liz felt helpless and trapped, and it was impossible to think under the noise. And it certainly didn't help that Ressler was an inch away from her face, spewing words of curses and demands.

Then they both saw Cooper make his way toward them, positioning himself next to Aram. Ressler smiled in hopes that perhaps he'd be offered a rescue, but the words heard were of the contrary. "Agent Ressler, you will perform as what is properly expected in this circumstance."

At those words, the crowd roared in cheers and laughter, and Ressler turned to her with a crushed face, "Damn it all to hell…"

"Let's just…"

"No, we are not."

"What…"

"No way."

"No, what?"

Ressler paused a slight, and muttered under his breath, "I ain't gonna kiss you, Keen."

"I wasn't suggesting that…"

"Well, whatever it is that you're suggesting, it is irrelevant to the fact that…it is not happening."

Now it was her turn to give him a sharp scowl, "Hey, let's get this straight…I was not suggesting that we…"

"We're done discussing it."

"Don't you dare be thinking that I…"

"Keen…"

"Now you listen, Ressler. For the record, I'd never suggest that we actually kiss…"

"Well, I ain't gonna kiss you, Keen."

"Yeah, you said that already." She was a breath away from punching his face, "I was gonna suggest that we create a diversion…"

"A diversion? You've got to be kidding me…this isn't some field op…"

"Well, we have to do something…" Liz glanced at the expectant crowd, "The locals are getting wild."

Ressler inhaled a fitful of air, "I'm just gonna stick to my original plan."

"Which is?"

"Ripping the damn plant to pieces."

"It's actually a flower."

"Keen..."

She shook her head at him nonetheless, "Before your turn as a brute beast, any other ideas?"

"I'm willing to try anything at the moment…well, except for one…"

"Yeah, I know…you ain't gonna kiss me."

. . . . . . . . .