Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

'Winner buys? No? See you tomorrow...' Aram trailed off before giving a small nod and walking away. Samar gritted her teeth before sighing and cursing herself internally. Aram was just trying to be nice, in fact, he was probably the only one that had really been welcoming to her so far, and she had to go and deliberately ignore him when he made a perfectly innocent dinner offer? Ugh.

But, she thought to herself, that's the way it has to be. She never managed to stay anywhere for very long, and getting attached to anyone made leaving all the more difficult when the time inevitably came. Not to mention, with this rather unusual FBI arrangement engineered by Reddington, she had absolutely no idea whatsoever of how long she would be ‘on loan’ to the taskforce.

So, she had to keep people at an arm's length. It didn't make for a particularly enjoyable stay anywhere, but... Her mind wandered for a moment as she discreetly observed Aram walking over to Liz's office... What was she thinking? Oh yeah; that's the way it had to be. She never stopped feeling guilty though. That was part of the reason she had, somewhat foolishly, offered to buy Liz a drink the week before, only for Liz to decline and in no uncertain terms, announce her mistrust. That had stung. And oh, how she wished she could just feel like she belonged somewhere. It didn't help that she took the same stance with her apartment; only the essentials, so there was less to pack every time she moved. Sure it meant an easier goodbye, but it also meant never feeling a hundred percent comfortable anywhere.

It was an everlasting internal debate for her. One that usually didn't pose that much of an issue, but... Her internal monologue came to a halt again as Aram left Liz's office and went back to busying himself around the Post Office war room... There was just something about Aram that was seriously messing with her ability to maintain a steely resolve. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it was definitely problematic.

Would one dinner out with a colleague really cause a problem? Did arguing with herself constitute some kind of symptom of impending madness? Who cares? She was hungry, that much she knew, and she had just received an offer of a tasty meal. Surely being careful with attachments didn't mean she had to torture herself with a life of absolute solitude and more importantly, deprivation of delicious food, right?

And with that decision made, off she went to see if the offer for that tasty meal was still standing.

/*/*/*/*

Aram stepped through the front door of Samar's apartment and into her living room. Samar’s parking at the Post Office site still hadn’t been validated, so she had taken the metro into work instead and Aram, being the gentleman that he was, had offered to drive her home after their impromptu dinner. But, her apartment was... Aram struggled to find the right adjective. Minimalist? No, that wasn't it. But it was certainly bare. There were no photos on the walls, or ornaments on the mantel... Just three dvds and five books tucked into the little shelf space under the television, and the rest of the furniture was limited to the bare essentials. It certainly didn't feel like a 'home'.
'So uh, you still unpacking?' He asked cautiously as Samar walked into the kitchen behind him after locking the door. She shifted uneasily on her feet, instantly conscious of what her apartment must look like to him.
'No, this is it. I know it's not much but uh...' she trailed off for a moment 'I never seem to stay in one place for very long... Every time I used to get comfortable, I ended up having to move. It's just easier if I keep it simple instead, then I don't have so much to pack.' She paused. That was the problem with Mossad; assignments could change in an instant, just as single events could change the global political landscape overnight. On more than one occasion she had found herself happily stationed in one place, only to suddenly receive orders to relocate halfway across the globe the very next day. An awkward silence filled the room for a moment. Samar turned abruptly towards the kitchen. Anything really, to try and change the subject.
'Would you like a coffee or a tea or something?' She asked. He had driven her home, so it only seemed polite to make the offer. Aram looked up from the floor. Huh, that patch of the wood flooring had a really interesting pattern going on, it reminded him of- Wait a minute, she just asked you a question!
'I, uh...' Think, Aram! Don't stand there looking like a deer in headlights!  'Coffee?' He half asked, half mumbled. Samar nodded, before asking how he liked his coffee. Aram responded, almost as if he was on autopilot at this point, and Samar turned back towards the fridge to fetch the milk.

Aram somehow convinced his brain to make his legs function, and sat down on one of the two barstools by the kitchen counter. This was not at all going how he had hoped. There he was, making everything awkward, while Samar seemed... Off? She had seemed off since the second she asked if the dinner offer was still standing; almost as if she regretted asking before she had even finished the question. A steaming mug of coffee appeared on the counter, and Samar took a seat opposite him.
'Is that why you didn't want to go to dinner at first?' Aram asked slowly. 'Because it's easier to keep things simple?'
'How did you guess?'
'I didn't at first. What made you change your mind?'
'You were nice to me... Welcoming. It threw me a little.' She looked away, and the memory of what Liz had said to her the week before about trust came flashing back again. Aram looked confused for a moment.
'Surely it's not that uncommon for people to be nice to you...' Samar gave a small smile.
'You'd be surprised. In this business, people just don't like to trust each other... They're not so enthusiastic to greet someone new.' And then of course, Samar had her own issues with trusting each new person she met. But Aram was different, or at least he seemed to be. He was on the taskforce, but he was confined to the relative protection of the Post Office building. As much as he read on his computer screen about their cases every day, he knew little about the world Samar ran around in, simply because he never had to see it in person. It meant Aram had the capacity to understand the horrors that affected the agents he worked with, but without bearing the brunt of the effects themselves. He was only too happy to smile and to trust, and that was precisely what intrigued Samar so much.
'But even after that... You don't like getting to know people?' Poor Aram, he sounded so dejected. Suddenly, Samar felt awful for giving in to herself earlier and changing her mind. If only she hadn't, Aram wouldn't be so disappointed now. He deserved an explanation, and Samar felt she owed him that much.

She took a deep breath, this was going to be a long evening.

/*/*/*/*

Aram unlocked his front door and let himself into his own apartment. The whole way home he had been thinking about the things Samar had said; that she isolated herself so she wouldn't have to worry about getting close to people and then having to leave... That she never let herself get comfortable anywhere... That she hated having to feel alone all the time, and that she honestly wished she could get to know him better because she enjoyed his company... But that was the way it had to be.

It was sad.

But the worst part was that Aram couldn't decide what bothered him more; the fact that Samar felt the need to isolate herself, the fact she wished she didn't, or that she had to live in constant frustration at the conflict of both. Then there was the fact that he was completely and hopelessly smitten with her and couldn't for the life of him figure out what to do about it. Part of him felt like he should respect her wishes to keep a distance from everyone else and try to get over his own feelings, but another part of him ached at the idea of her being alone when she didn't want to be and desperately wanted to show her that getting to know him might not be so terrible. He put his shoulder bag down on the table, took off his jacket and put that down too, before finally collapsing onto the couch to feel sorry for himself.

She was right; she really was stuck between a rock and a hard place. And now he was too.

Chapter Text

Aram gazed out the hospital window, reflecting on the events of earlier that day. Samar and Liz had argued right in front of him... And then ended up having a bonding moment while half-dying in a botched attack on an airport. On the plus side, they were getting along a bit better now, but on the other hand... Aram really did not want to ever see either of them angry at him.

He shuddered at the very thought.

And on the other, other hand... They foiled the attack, found a cure for a bioweapon, and both Liz and Samar would make a full recovery. But the fact that they had been infected at all... That Samar had been infected… And shot as well. That was a sobering thought. And there he was, about to joke to himself about running out of 'other' hands! Sure, he did care deeply for Liz, but Samar was... Samar was different; Aram was smitten with her from the moment he clapped eyes on her. She was smart, tough as nails, and gorgeous. But, she was also complicated, conflicted and... Scared.

He had spent a lot of time over the last week thinking about Samar's, and now his, dilemma, but that was something he hadn't considered before, and that was probably because he was too busy being in awe of her at work. Of course, at work she never seemed anything other than completely, one hundred percent confident but really, was anyone ever that confident? Everyone had something about themselves that they doubted, it was just a question of what, how much, and how well they managed to conceal it. And really, this sudden realisation made sense. Samar didn't want to become attached to anyone or any place because she was scared of losing something she cared about. A typical, and frustrating fear for sure, but Aram was at least vaguely familiar with some of her work history; Samar made a point of being fiercely independent and in her career thus far she had moved around a lot. That was one factor that had made him wonder if he should just try to let his feelings go, instead of fighting a strategy that Samar had clearly been following for years.

Because, if it was hard for her to get close to someone and then have to leave, it would be hard for him too.

But, after the events of today... After coming so close to losing her for real... Aram knew he didn't want to push her to face her fear, but he definitely couldn't just leave her alone either. He cared about her too much.

Suddenly, something brushed against his arm, jolting him from his internal monologue. He shifted his gaze back to Samar; she was awake. And reaching for his hand! Aram gave her a reassuring smile as she closed her eyes again -still half asleep probably- before he relaxed back into his chair with his hand still firmly and contentedly clasped around Samar's.

Maybe they'd manage to figure this out after all...

/*/*/*/*

Samar had drifted back off to sleep almost as quickly as she had woken up two hours earlier, but Aram hadn't moved from his place by her hospital bed, nor had his hand let go of hers. He'd spent the time wondering, and probably analysing far too deeply, what it meant that the first thing she did when she woke up was reach for him.

It was getting late now, through the window he had seen the sun go down. The fact that Samar hadn't woken up yet bothered him. Liz had woken up and walked past Samar's room just over an hour ago, and although Samar had a bullet wound as well, she should have been awake by now. And after such a long day, Aram was starting to fall asleep. He didn't want to be asleep when Samar woke up, but... He was just...so...tired...

'Aram...' Samar's low, croaky voice made him sit bolt upright.
'Hey, you're awake.'
'So are you, I see,' she teased. Uh oh... How long had he been asleep?
'Uh... How long have you been awake?' Samar chuckled, and then winced and clutched her belly. Clearly, laughing was not a good idea so soon after being shot.
'Only for about five minutes,' she said. She looked down at her hand -the one Aram was still holding. 'I wasn't sure if I should wake you. You looked so tired, and the doctor said you haven't moved in hours.'
'Doctors don't come and go in under five minutes...' Samar didn't look at him. She was very deliberately looking at anything but him.
'Maybe it was ten minutes...' she trailed off. 'But either way, I was thinking...' Aram didn't say anything. She was clearly figuring out how to say something very particular and he wanted to let her get it out. 'Do you think I was wrong?' Aram bit his lip, wondering where this was going.
'About what?' He decided to play it safe.
'About getting close to people.' Oh.
'Well,' he started slowly, 'A fear is like an opinion. It can't be wrong, can it?' Samar's eyes snapped to his. Uh oh. Did he say 'fear'? Bad move, Aram. 'Uh, what I mean to say is, do you think you were wrong?' Samar frowned and looked away again.
'I didn't.'
'But?'
'Now I'm thinking I might have been.'
'...What makes you think that?' He asked. Samar sighed, not exactly sure how to respond.
'I can escape capture... I can duck away from a gunshot or run from an explosion. I've done all of those things, so many times. But in that airport, with the plague... I didn't know how to help myself. And though I'm not afraid of dying, it made me realise that if I did die, I would have died alone, and...' Aram shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
'...You don't want to be alone anymore,' he finished the sentence for her, finally understanding where she was going with this. She nodded. It was true though; her brother and her parents were all dead, and the few people in her past that she could consider friends were distant, scattered all over the world. She really was, in every sense of the word; alone. It wasn’t something Samar had tended to think about before, simply because she was so used to being able to take care of herself no matter what happened either in the field or out of it -but the plague was a completely different issue entirely. While locked down in quarantine, there was nothing she could have done to change the situation and so in a rare moment, she was faced with the reality that dying was a genuine possibility.
'And I want to feel like I belong somewhere, I always have. But, I don't know where to start...' She flashed back to her argument with Liz at the Post Office and how she’d overheard them talking about it afterwards. In that moment, when Aram had immediately sought to comfort Liz instead of her, she had never felt more like an outsider. Sure, Aram had known Liz for a lot longer than he had known her and sure, now that Samar thought about it, she could see why Liz had made the decision she did, but right there in that moment she had felt hurt, and excluded from the team. That’s why, when Liz put pressure on her bullet wound, Samar had resisted leaning in to her. Even while potentially dying of both an ancient plague and a bullet wound, Samar felt conflicted about the people around her, and determined to maintain her independence.
'Well, you don't need a place to feel like you belong somewhere.'
'That makes no sense.'
'Try talking to people, you'll be surprised how quickly you'll get to know them. You and Liz talked when you guys were in quarantine at the airport, right?’ Samar nodded slowly and thought about just how much she and Liz had talked about in the hours they were stuck there. It had felt good to hear Liz just talk so nonchalantly about her baby shower guests, to the point where Samar no longer felt any trace of their earlier conflict lingering between them. And Aram, despite how he might have felt about her arguing with Liz in front of him, was there by her side when she first woke up and was still there now. He already cared about her, even though she would have thought he didn’t know her that well yet. Huh. Maybe Aram had a point. But then again...
'I could be reassigned tomorrow, for all I know.' She of course, neglected to mention anything about Reddington's part in her placement with the taskforce.
'Ok well, take it one person at a time then, if you're worried...' He shot her a cheeky grin. 'You could start with just talking to me.' Samar raised an eyebrow.
'You're the one I'm the most worried about.'
'Me?'
'You're the hardest to resist...' She said, giving him a coy smile. Now she was just teasing him, but Aram knew what she meant.
'Are you saying... That I'm like your kryptonite?' He laughed. Samar rolled her eyes.
'If that means what I think it does... Yes. You're the sweet one, the one who seems the least dangerous but does the most damage. Like the dinner last week; I let my guard down with you, and then where did that get me?' Two days of awkwardness at the Post Office afterwards as Aram tried to figure out what to make of all her issues, that’s what. And, Samar was so used to being independent and taking care of herself, that the idea of relying on someone else or allowing them to see her vulnerable was one she almost couldn’t bear. But with Aram, as much as she still had to grapple with the idea of letting him in, she kept finding herself drawn to talking with him -even if it was against her better judgement.
'You just called me sweet..' Samar rolled her eyes at him again.
'Be serious.'
'The dinner wasn't that bad, honestly. And, it's up to you how much or how little you talk to people. Just stick to what you're comfortable with.' Samar thought about that idea for a moment. Aram was right. If she was going to do this, she had to bite the proverbial bullet at some point. And, she looked at his hand, still in hers, now that they'd talked about it, it made sense for him to be the first person for her to get to know. She looked back at him; he was waiting for her response. She nodded, slowly.
'Ok.'

Chapter Text

A pained expression crossed Samar's face as she watched Liz and Ressler in the back of the ambulance. They seemed so comfortable together. Exhausted and miserable, sure... But still, they knew each other well enough that they could comfort each other like that after a rough case. She wondered if Ressler would let her comfort him like that if she tried to. Probably not. And Liz, though they had started sharing a few things and had worked together quite well since the plague and the airport, probably wouldn't let Samar comfort her like that either. In fact, she thought back on her last few assignments, she had rarely ever been that comfortable with any of her teammates in years. How many friendships had she missed out on in all that time? Samar was suddenly glad that she had decided to start letting her guard down a little with them. Hopefully with enough time, she would be that comfortable with them too. In fact, she looked forward to it. And, as she thought about that for a moment, she kind of missed Aram.

Actually, she missed him quite a bit.

She thought about that too. The last time she saw him was only a few hours ago, and yet she still couldn't wait to get back to the DC office, just so that he would be nearby again. Whoa, was she really that attached to him already?

They had ended up talking for so long during that night in the hospital that they had both eventually fallen asleep mid-conversation. Then in the morning, Aram had gone down to the diner across the road and brought back breakfast when they both agreed that the hospital's tasteless scrambled eggs and stale toast was too disgusting to eat. In the week since, they'd had dinner together twice- and both occasions went without incident. They had talked about food, books, travelling and so many other things. Another day that week, they had bumped into Ressler in the Post Office break room and ended up all having their morning coffee together. It all just felt... So normal.

It was nice.

/*/*/*/*

After the flight back to DC from Sitka, Ressler and Liz decided to go straight back to their respective homes from the airport. Or rather, Ressler went home and Liz went back to her motel room. Samar, on the other hand, decided to stop by the Post Office on her way, so that she could pick up a few things that she had left on her desk.

Aram was still there when she arrived.

'Hey, you're back!' He closed his laptop and stood to greet her. Samar smiled, she was tired but happy to see him.
'You waited for us?'
'Well uh, for you.' He shifted awkwardly on his feet for a moment but Samar pretended not to notice. 'Anyway uh, did you guys eat?’ Samar's belly let out a loud rumble as if it wanted to respond to the question itself and she rolled her eyes.
'Clearly, I don't need to say anything,' she said with a wry smile. Aram picked up his laptop bag and slipped it over his shoulder, ready to walk out with her.
'Do you want to get something from the new pizza place by the coffee shop?' Aram had spotted the new pizza place earlier in the day while on a coffee run, only to come back and tell all of them about how amazing it smelled and how long the lunch rush line was. Out the door, apparently. And the look of total disappointment on his face when he then saw two other agents come back later with a box of the very same, delicious smelling pizza that they promptly took into their office was… Well... Hilarious. Samar had asked why he didn't just buy one when he went to get his coffee, but then Aram had promptly pointed out that he'd wanted to avoid the line and get back quickly because some certain agents were waiting for him to supply them with intel for their case.

Samar's phone went off as she opened her mouth to respond. Aram waited as she paused to quickly check it. An encrypted message from Mossad? It was from a number she recognised as being for 'mid-level priority' operations, which of course in normal-person-speak meant; 'high-priority but not a life and death emergency'. Everything was high priority with Mossad. Her belly rumbled loudly again as she slid her phone back in her pocket, making them both laugh.
'So that's a yes to pizza then?' Aram chuckled. Samar nodded sheepishly as she picked up her keys from her desk and tucked them in her pocket. Whatever the non-emergency was, it could wait. She had pizza to eat.

/*/*/*/*

They walked into the pizza place to find that it wasn't just the usual takeaway kind of pizza shop, but rather it offered a whole dine-in and design-your-own-pizza experience as well, complete with diner-style booths. It was an interesting combination, but neither of them were complaining; the pizza really was the best around, and despite how late it was, the place was still packed! They had managed to walk in just in time to get the last empty booth, and now that they had been there a while -in fact, they had finished their pizzas at least fifteen minutes ago- they were sitting back, chatting and generally enjoying the atmosphere. It was hard for Aram not to sit and listen with a silly smile on his face as Samar very animatedly compared her worst airport experiences. Seeing her out of the office really was entertaining; she was still as sharp and sassy as she was in the office, but she was also more relaxed, and surprisingly funny once she actually started talking. More than anything, Aram was just glad to see her finally letting her guard down a little, but that in itself came with its own slight problem. As overjoyed as he was to finally get to know Samar, Aram kept finding himself wanting something more. The more time they spent together, the more smitten he became.  

And really, he had already been completely smitten with her from the first moment he saw her.  

Perhaps it was simply because he was a naturally affectionate person, but it was difficult not to instinctively reach for her hand as they sat across from each other at the table or put his arm around her as they walked together. Aram had to remind himself that not only was Samar far more reserved on that front, but she was also someone who he had only met three weeks earlier. He certainly didn't want to go overboard too quickly and push her away, but that didn't stop the butterflies that went crazy in his stomach any time they happened to brush against one another- whether they were at the office or not.  

He concluded that falling in love was as difficult and frustrating as it was beautiful, especially when he had to keep it to himself for at least a little while longer.  

Samar's phone beeped again, causing her to stop talking mid-sentence as she saw the screen flash from where it was sitting on the table. She paused to check it, only for the smile to vanish from her face when she saw it was yet another message from Mossad. Aram's brow furrowed in concern as he watched her expression change. 
'Everything ok?' He asked curiously. Samar quickly finished reading the message, before sliding her phone into her pocket. 
'Uhh, it's just Mossad... I might have to go away for a couple of days.' Her shoulders had started to tense again. Aram didn't know what was going on, and he was pretty sure he wasn't allowed to know, but whatever it was had very quickly brought an end to Samar's off-the-clock demeanour. 
'Spy stuff?' He asked with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood again. Samar's lip twitched.
'Maybe,' she teased. 
'Ok Agent Bond, shall we go then?' He asked. Samar rolled her eyes before giving a small, but appreciative nod. They stood up from the table and started walking towards the door. What Aram didn't realise, and she wasn't going to tell him, was that the message from Mossad had ordered her to take a flight to Dubai that was departing in a few hours. Which in turn, meant that the second she got home, she had to quickly pack a small bag and then go straight back out again to the airport. She stopped in her tracks right outside the door as she suddenly remembered the fierce discussion they'd had -or rather, Aram had while Samar listened in great amusement seeing as she wasn't hugely familiar with either of the characters in question- with Ressler in the break room, causing Aram to turn around in alarm as she disappeared from his side. 
'Agent Bond? I thought you preferred Sherlock Holmes?! What are you trying to say?' She burst out. Aram gaped for a second before shaking his head in amazed disbelief. How Samar's mind worked sometimes was absolutely beyond him, but it was funny nonetheless.  

And in times like this, it gave him an excuse to reach out to her.  

He grabbed her hand and gave it a small tug to prompt her to move from blocking the doorway. He couldn't figure out what was more amusing; the fact that she clearly missed the joke, or the fact that the thought didn't occur to her until she was standing in the middle of a doorway. 
'Yes, but only Bond is a spy, you know,' he laughed, tugging her hand again, 'come on, I thought you had to go?' Samar scowled for a split second before she started walking again, bickering with him the entire way back to their respective cars, and completely oblivious to the fact that Aram was still holding her hand.  

She was going to have to do some serious research into both characters...

Chapter Text

Samar looked in the mirror only for a face that she almost didn't recognise to look back at her. She had straightened out her hair, leaving just a slight curl at the end, and put on much heavier makeup than usual. And the dress... Well, she gave a soft smile as she ran her hand down the dark blue fabric, the dress was stunning. For all intents and purposes, she did look pretty amazing... But that was exactly the problem. She was dressed up like this specifically to attract attention, and it wasn't the kind of attention she wanted. Rather, she was going undercover in an operation to take out yet another potential threat, and she was the bait. She shuddered as she thought of the level of intimacy she would be taking with her target, knowing full well that she would have to just smile and play along the whole time. But that was her job, and she knew her job was important.

Her phone beeped, shifting her attention away from the mirror. She wandered back into her hotel room from the bathroom and picked up her phone from the nightstand as she sat down to put on her shoes. With one hand, she unbuckled her new silver heels and slipped them onto her feet, while using the other hand to check her messages. The newest one jumped out at her.

It was from Aram.

'Not sure where you are right now, but pretty sure you can't tell me. Hope everything's ok. Be safe .' Samar sighed wistfully as she read the message again. Be safe. Even when Aram was far away and had no idea what was happening, he was so perfectly sweet. She looked at the time; it was 8:47pm. She didn't have to be at the bar in the hotel across the street until 9, and she was running ahead of time.  She quickly tapped out a response;
'You're right, I can't tell you. If I did, I'd have to kill you.' Samar chuckled at her own joke as she hit the send button. She was sure it was old and clichéd but it was a new one for her, and she knew Aram would love it. He had regaled her with tales of his days spent reading old Sherlock Holmes books as a child, while they'd had dinner recently, even before his great ‘Holmes vs. Bond’ debate with Ressler in the break room, and so when Samar found 'The Hounds of Baskerville' at the airport bookshop on her way out of DC, she'd decided on a whim to buy it and read it on the plane. Her phone beeped again as another message from Aram came through.
'Hahaha! You wouldn't kill me, you'd have nobody to eat pizza with.' Samar burst out laughing at that summation of her social life. It was funny because it was true, but she wasn't about to tell Aram that.
'Exactly why I'm not going to tell you where I am. Obviously. Though I'm sure Ressler would love to have pizza with me,' she replied drolly. Then she added 'Have to go now. I'll be back tomorrow evening if all goes to plan.'
Turning her phone off and tucking it into her purse, Samar wondered for a moment about how different it would be to go out dressed up like this, but with Aram instead of some sleazy spy or criminal. No , she quickly shook her head, you don't need that particular distraction tonight . She stood up from the bed and walked towards the hotel room door, pausing to take a deep breath as she reached for the handle. Her name tonight was Ava, not Samar. That was what she had to remember. With another deep breath she put on a smile, then stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind her. Ava . She headed towards the elevator with her shoulders back, her head held high, and certain sultry strut to her walk.

Because that's how Ava was.

/*/*/*/*

Samar tipped her head back to let the hot water flow over her face and run through her hair. As accepting as she was of the things she had to do as part of her job, having a target run his hands all over her never ceased making her feel kind of gross. She had been in the shower for some twenty minutes already, but that still wasn't enough to fully scrub away all traces of the scientist she had just thrown off the balcony- both the flecks of his blood that had splattered everywhere when she struck him, and the sensation of his body pressed against hers.

At least the hot water and the smell of her shampoo were somewhat relaxing.

After one final, very thorough scrub, Samar finally felt as though she was able to turn off the water. It didn't take long to towel off, pull back her damp hair into a loose braid, and put on her pyjamas. Finally, she could crawl into bed... Samar quickly turned off the one light that was still on -the small lamp on the nightstand that gave off its own comforting, dusky glow- before curling up and wrapping the comforter around her as tightly as possible. She stared into the darkness of the hotel room for a moment before deciding that, as tired as she was, she wasn't quite ready to fall asleep just yet. Samar reached blindly for where she had left her phone on the nightstand earlier and checked the time. With the time difference, it should still be late afternoon back in DC. She wondered whether Aram was still at work. That odd sensation of missing him was needling at her again; Samar had thought before that it was a one-off emotional response after all that had happened in Sitka, but... She thought about it as she opened up their text thread on her phone... Perhaps not. Hmmm... With that in mind, she typed out a simple question;
'Hey, how's work?' There wasn't really anything specific to say; she just felt like saying hello. But it didn't take long for a response to come through.
'Hey! It's a lot quieter here without you around. No fun though,' Aram wrote. Samar grinned as she read it, before another message came through; 'How about you? What time is it?' Samar started to type back and quickly stopped as she realised what Aram had asked. With a smirk, she deleted what she had already typed, and sent something else instead.
'I'm tired, but not so much that you can trick me into telling you what time zone I'm in.' Samar scoffed at the very idea, and imagined the mischievous look that was probably on Aram's face. She rolled onto her side and curled up again, leaning her phone against her arm. Mischief aside, it was nice just to check in with him -comforting, even- after the night she'd had. Her phone beeped again as another response came through;
'Ahh well, I tried. Everything ok though? You're still coming back tomorrow?' Then two seconds later; 'Oh, I have to go. Ressler's yelling something. Travel safe.'
'Yep, I'll see you then. Good luck.' She quickly sent back, though not before adding a smile.
Samar set her phone back down on the nightstand, then pulled the covers all the way up to her chin. She sighed contentedly as she found the most comfortable position, and slowly closed her eyes. Now she finally felt enough at ease to sleep.

And fall asleep she did; before she could even manage to wonder why that was...

/*/*/*/*

'You threw a man out of a window?' Aram asked incredulously. Samar had been wondering when that question would come. The second Reddington asked her about it in front of Liz, she knew it would only be a matter of time before the information was spread- albeit in its fairly limited detail- around the Post Office. And now that they were finally alone in the break room -Liz and Ressler had gone to find Jonathon Reese and Cooper had gone to talk to some higher-up in the chain of command- Aram had picked his moment to strike. Of course, Samar couldn't spill any further details, but there was no point trying to hide or deny what had already been revealed by Reddington either. So, she decided to just have some fun with it.
'Technically, I'm not allowed to comment on that,' Samar shot back with a playful smirk. Aram rolled his eyes and sighed.
'Samar!'
'...Yes?' The smirk was replaced with a the cheeky look of feigned innocence.
'Is that a 'yes' to your name or a 'yes' to the question about throwing a man out of a window?' Samar waved a hand through the air in exasperation.
'Oh, use your imagination. Otherwise I lose my plausible deniability. Either way, the official report didn't say anything about him going through a window.'
'Yes, I heard. It said he committed suicide.'
'Yep. From jumping off a balcony,' Samar said, looking at him rather pointedly. She sweetly sipped at her coffee while she waited for the inevitable realisation to set in. Aram did a double take, his face contorting into something halfway between horror, utter bewilderment and ever so slight awe. She threw him off a balcony? That wasn't just a matter of giving someone a shove through a wall of glass, that meant she had to push the guy over some railing too- and that took a fair amount of strength! Aram was pretty sure he was supposed to be more horrified than anything else at the idea that Samar had quite frankly, just killed someone. Hell, he had been horrified when he killed that terrorist a year earlier and to a certain degree, he still was. But he was slowly getting used to the idea that the guy in question had been a bad guy, who had been one hundred percent intent on hurting his friends at the Post Office... And once that final realisation had occurred to him, Aram had finally accepted the reality that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't so bad. Of course, he still felt some guilt, just nowhere near as much as he did a year ago. Long story short; knowing that Samar had just assassinated someone wasn't something he was particularly thrilled about, but Aram could deal with it. More than anything he was just torn between fear, now that her 'capabilities' -which frankly, he was aware of, but had been trying not to think about- had been made glaringly obvious, and a somewhat twisted sense of pride at her strength. Throwing a man over a balcony was no mean feat, after all.

Though once again, Aram knew that he really, really did not ever want to see her angry at him.

Samar watched the expression on Aram's face change as he processed the information she had just told him; she was curious to see how he would react, but in the meantime it was just a matter of trying not to laugh. The look of awe, albeit fearful awe, eventually won out, and Aram let out a small grin.

'You scare me sometimes, you know that?' He teased cautiously. Samar chuckled and shot him a wink, before she turned and headed for the door back out to the war room, Aram quick on her heels. Cooper had started yelling, and it was best that they went back to work before he came looking for them.

/*/*/*/*

Aram watched from his desk as the team re-entered the Post Office. In the time that they were gone he'd been wondering about Samar's mysterious absences on and off throughout the day, and how her mood had become dramatically more irritable every time she disappeared. Then, once Liz had called in from the crime scene to say that The Scimitar had been shot execution style and thrown into the river, Aram figured that either Samar or Reddington -if not both- had something to do with it. With a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure nobody was watching, he followed Samar as she walked tiredly into the office to the side of the briefing area.

Samar turned around in surprise to see Aram as he shut the office door behind them.

'You killed a guy and threw him in the river?' He asked, though not at all surprised anymore. Samar just looked at him with one raised eyebrow. If there was anyone who could make light of what she had done in the last few days and amuse her instead of making her feel worse, it was Aram. She tried, and failed, not to break into an amused smirk.
'...Must we start this again?'

Chapter Text

The atmosphere in the Post Office was particularly subdued. Agents milled around aimlessly, unsure what to do with themselves in the wake of what had just happened. Samar glanced over her shoulder at Aram, who was still sitting, in absolutely stunned silence, at his desk with his face buried in his hands. It certainly wasn't a happy sight to see. All Samar could do was be thankful that the video link from the armoured box to the war room had cut out when it did; it was horrifying enough just knowing how Fitch had died, without actually having to see it. Seeing someone's head explode wasn't something anyone should have to see- but on the occasion someone did, it changed them forever. That was a rare category of person that Samar had the misfortune of belonging to already, and even that didn't stop her from feeling sick at the idea that the very same thing had just happened again in the building she was standing in now. She glanced at Aram again. If anyone here understood how good it was that he hadn't seen that happen, it was her. Aram's ever-present optimism was too unique and important a force in the war room for them to lose. Not to mention, she cared too much about him on a personal level to be ok with the idea of him taking a hit like that.

It really would affect him badly.

As awful as she felt, Samar knew that she was probably one of the least affected people in the room. She looked around at  all the faces surrounding her; every single one of them bore the same expression of horror and disbelief even though over an hour had already passed. Samar grabbed her purse and her keys, and stepped over to Aram's desk, resting her hand gently on his shoulder.

He jumped at the sudden touch and looked up wildly, his face only settling a little when he realised it was her standing there.

'How about we get out of here?' Samar suggested quietly. Aram opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. 'There's nothing anyone can do here now,' she squeezed his hand to prompt him, 'come on, it'll help.' Aram gave a small nod, but didn't move. Samar pulled his jacket off the back of his chair and draped it over her arm before picking his backpack up off the floor and handing it to him. Aram slowly stood up, and followed as she started walking towards the elevator.
'Where are we going?' He asked, almost inaudible. Samar gave him a small, wistful smile.
'Anywhere but here.'

/*/*/*/*

'Anywhere' turned out to be the closest bar to the Post Office that they could find, and as they walked in and saw a number of familiar faces already there, Samar concluded that the majority of the Post Office's agents probably all had the same problem with trying to get the image of Fitch and his bomb out of their heads. Aram had barely said a word in the short drive over, but he didn't waste a second in taking a swig from his beer the moment it was handed to him. They sat in silence with their drinks for a few minutes before Aram finally spoke; there was something bothering him that he needed the answer to.
'Have you seen things like that before?' Samar quickly dropped her gaze.
'Once,' she said.
'How do you...' Aram trailed off. There really was no need to finish the question. How did one get over something like that?
'You try not to think about it, until one day where it just doesn't bother you quite so much anymore.' Aram's eyes snapped to hers. There was a strange expression on her face, like she was remembering something but was trying not think about it. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt; he felt horrible enough as it was, without actually seeing the bomb go off. He didn't even want to imagine what it might have actually looked like, let alone the fact that some people actually had seen things like that. It was... The stuff of nightmares. Aram squeezed her hand.
'Are you ok?' He asked. Samar looked back at him in surprise.
'Me? Yeah, I'll be fine.' She took another casual swig of her beer. There was an edge to her voice though, as if she was mostly fine but not entirely, but also didn't want to talk about it. Aram decided not to press for details, and reached for his own beer again instead. Samar had a certain, pragmatic strength about her when it came to dealing with things like that, and Aram admired her for it. He wasn't sure if it was entirely healthy for her to always put on a brave face and act like she was fine even when she wasn't, but he understood that was just how Samar dealt with things. He watched her down the last mouthful of her beer, before signalling the bartender for another one each.

He definitely needed another one, and he was pretty sure she did too.

/*/*/*/*

By the time they had each finished off their third beer in an hour and a half, they were both quite tipsy. Not seriously drunk, but the reality was that the last meal they each had was lunch several hours ago. Since arriving at the bar they had only shared one small plate of nachos, so they both definitely had the buzz of lost inhibitions at the very least.

Samar had started to lean against his side, rather than sit upright on her own barstool.

Not that Aram minded in the slightest, of course. In fact, he was quite pleased with the development. But he was also conscious of the fact that they probably needed to eat something more substantial -and probably start drinking water- if they wanted to sober up enough to drive home before midnight. He pulled a face. Well, that was a no-fun end to a no-fun day!
'What's with the face?' Samar asked curiously, bringing Aram's attention away from his drunken internal ramblings and back to her. Aram pointed out the problem he had just thought of, causing Samar to pull her own, equally unimpressed face. She didn't particularly feel like going home, she was perfectly happy right there with Aram!

Wait a minute...

Samar thought about that for a moment, wondering if that was just the alcohol talking, or rather- thinking. But no, it was true. She had nothing to go home to and, as she had been discovering recently, she really did enjoy Aram's company. And, if the last week or so was any indication, the more time she spent with him, the more she missed him when he wasn't around. Samar gazed at Aram, now at the other end of the bar ordering more food, and tried to think of anyone else she had felt that strongly about. She furrowed her brow. There wasn't anyone really... Not since Levi Shur, her old Mossad team mate. But that was years ago and frankly, that barely compared to how strongly she felt about Aram right now. And yet, she and Levi had been a couple for over a year before she finally left him.

Huh...

Did that mean what she thought it meant? Surely not. When she decided to start getting to know people better, she certainly hadn't been planning on feeling quite that strongly about anyone. Yet, when Fitch's bomb went off, Samar had instantly wanted to make sure Aram was ok. He had been standing behind her in the war room so she hadn't even seen his reaction when they were all told, but she had known straight away that he would be upset anyway, and had sought to make him feel better without a single second's thought for anyone else. Maybe, she looked at the goofy grin on his face as he walked back across the bar to her with a plate of woodfire pizza and found herself struggling not to smile back in an equally goofy fashion, just maybe, she had fallen for him without even realising it... Samar exhaled slowly as she processed that idea. Well. That was... Quite a realisation.

And it was slightly problematic.

Her relationship with Levi had proven far too well that dating a co-worker was risky. Worrying about each other was distracting in the field and had led to far too many close calls. Not to mention; Aram was far more sensitive in the way he cared for others than Levi ever was. His concern when she and Liz had nearly died at the airport, even though they were all just friends, made that quite clear. But... Wasn't that part of what she loved about him? The way he was so passionate and optimistic about the things he cared about was what made him such a good person -not to mention; such an important member of the taskforce. But it also meant that he would worry about her more than ever when she was in danger which, considering her job, wasn't exactly uncommon. And she so desperately did not want to ever see him hurt. Perhaps the fact that Aram typically worked in the war room and not in the field, would counter the distraction? She wouldn't have to deal with his worry while she was in the field, at least.  And did one failed relationship with a co-worker mean that all others were guaranteed to fail? All Samar knew was that she now had a lot to think about in figuring out where to go from here.

And that thought was almost as scary as the bomb that had just killed Fitch.

Chapter Text

"You're safe!" Samar sighed quietly but contentedly, and closed her eyes for a moment as Aram practically leaped forward to hug her. It wasn't the level of affection that they should really have been showing in the office, but Samar had just been held captive by a crazed thug in a top secret blacksite in the middle of nowhere. A hug between co-workers in this situation would be completely normal, right?

Except for the fact that it went on just slightly longer than what would be considered completely normal.

Ressler and Cooper both had raised eyebrows.

Aram untangled himself from Samar and tried to cover by greeting Ressler almost-as-enthusiastically, while Samar looked awkwardly at the floor so as not to meet Cooper's eye. A hug from Aram wasn't entirely unusual; he was typically quite tactile with everyone, and open in displaying his affections, whether it be hugs, a clap on the back or even just a compliment on a job well done or an interesting new haircut. Not so was the case with Samar. She was quieter, and more discreet.

When she was 'tactile', it tended to be with people who pissed her off. But that was another issue entirely.

Of course, that wasn't to say that she didn't care as much as Aram did, just that she expressed it differently. But Aram understood. He wasn't a profiler like Liz was, but he noticed Samar's small gestures all the same. The way that she tended to stand closer to him than anyone else in war room discussions, the way that she would gently tease him more than anyone else or even the fact that every so often he'd arrive back at his desk to find that his favourite candy bar or a joking comment on a post-it note had made a sudden and mysterious appearance. That was how Samar expressed her affection.

And yet, just then she had hugged him back in front of both Ressler and Cooper without even so much as a whisper of discontent.

/*/*/*/*

Samar looked up from the desk at the knock on the door and gave a small smile when she saw Aram standing there. It had been a long couple of days, with Liz being captured and the rest of them having to find her right after having been captured themselves.

They were all exhausted.

'You ok?' Aram asked quietly as he came over to the desk. Samar just looked at him.
'I've had better days,' she muttered back, standing to meet him by the side of the desk. Aram looked down at her leg; she was still hobbling on it. How she had managed to work in the field right after being shot was absolutely beyond him.
'You know, you probably shouldn't be standing on it,' he said. Samar winced.
'It's fine.' She really did hate it when people tried to make a fuss over her -it was where she had to draw the line when it came to her internal conflict grappling over how much to let people in- but as she looked up to meet Aram's eyes, she saw only concern. She leaned back on the desk a little to take some weight off her leg.
'Better?' she asked. Aram nodded, but his face still looked worried. '...You heard everything, didn't you? When Braxton and Cooper were on the phone?' Aram nodded again. Samar bit her lip.
'It was...' Aram trailed off. What adjective could possibly describe having to listen to Samar being strangled? Horrible? Terrifying? Harrowing? None of them seemed nearly enough. 'Hearing that... And knowing how far away you were, that there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it...' he paused again for a moment. Listening to her being strangled was bad enough, let alone the fact that the call had cut out in the middle of it all, leaving him completely in the dark as to whether she was even still alive at all.

Then he looked straight at her, took a deep breath and said more earnestly than Samar had ever heard him speak before;

'Samar, for a moment there I honestly thought I would never see you again.'

Samar's eyes went wide. She moved her hand towards her neck and pulled away her collar to reveal the bruising from the chains that had held her for so many hours.
'For a moment there, I honestly didn't know if I would get out of that room alive either,' she said in a distinctly quieter voice than usual. Aram stepped towards her, so close that their knees were almost touching, and gently traced the bruise with his thumb. 'But Aram, I did get out of that room alive. Focus on that.'
'You nearly died. '
'It wasn't the first time, nor the worst. And I'm fairly sure it won't be the last,' she said slowly and as calmly as she could manage, trying to soothe Aram with her voice. 'Remember four weeks ago, with the plague? I almost died then too. It's never easy, I'll never stop having nightmares or off days sometimes, but I have to get through it somehow and worrying about it isn't the way to do that. The only way to get through it and not be a complete mess is to focus on the fact that I didn't die. I'm alive, and I'm going to be ok.' She repeated those last few words, almost mantra-like, until Aram finally gave a small nod of acknowledgement. He moved his hand away from her neck to brush some loose strands of hair away from her face. They were so close now. Aram leaned forward just ever so slightly more, and for once Samar didn't back away. She looked up at him, holding his gaze. Slowly, they leaned in to each other, hearts racing, and-

'Hey, you're never going to believe this!' Ressler said loudly, barging straight into the office. Aram and Samar sprang apart, both cursing Ressler internally as he pushed his way between them. Ressler, to his credit, either didn't notice the moment he had just walked in on or was simply choosing to ignore it. Probably the latter -he was a trained agent.

Either way, Samar and Aram patiently waited through Ressler's showing of the tv news report, side by side, and silently.

/*/*/*/*

With the team still recovering from the events of the last few days, Cooper had ordered them all to take time off and recover so they wouldn't be going into the field injured. Normally they would have protested, but it was mid-November already. The Taskforce was supposed to shut down over Christmas and New Years, and with them being entirely dependent on Reddington bringing them cases, the Post Office was going on lockdown for the whole month of December while he went about his usual Christmas travels- not that they had any idea where he was going. So really, having leave forced upon them in mid-November just meant the team were on their winter break two weeks early -with pay.

Aram had suggested kick-starting that particular bonus with a night of takeout and movies. To Samar, he had said he was too tired to do anything else, but in actuality it was the easiest way to convince Samar to sit on the couch and rest her leg for an extended period of time. More than anything though, it had probably helped to sell the idea when he mentioned the large tub of ice cream that was in his freezer- he'd learned recently that one of Samar's only weaknesses was anything with chocolate in it- but now, after having filled their bellies and watched a couple of dvds, they were both sleepy. Samar was dozing off next to him on the couch with her head on his shoulder and his arm around hers.

Absent-mindedly he had ended up playing with a few strands of her hair that had come loose from her bun and were now dangling over her shoulder.

When the last movie finally ended, he quickly switched off the tv with the remote so that the loud music at the credits wouldn't wake her. Aram knew it wasn't great to leave the disc in the dvd player when it was turned off, and that turning the tv off at the remote was nowhere near as good for energy conservation as turning it off at the machine, but one time wouldn't hurt. Right now he just didn't want to move.

'Was that...the end?' Samar mumbled sleepily.

Crap. Clearly she was only half-asleep.

'That was the last one, don't worry about staying awake for another one,' he murmured back.
'But they were good!' Samar opened her eyes and looked up at him.
'We can watch another one tomorrow if you want.' Samar's brow furrowed as her still-half-asleep brain thought about that for a moment. Aram just looked at her amusedly, waiting for a response. If there had to be any one time where super secret badass Special Agent Samar Navabi was actually adorable, it was when she was sleepy.
'I suppose I can wait...' she mumbled while stifling a yawn.
'Unlike Agent Ressler,' Aram muttered. Whoa, where did that come from? He wasn't usually snarky. Hmm . Clearly Samar wasn't the only tired one. Samar however, just chuckled in agreement. They had of course, agreed earlier that Ressler's moment of choice to barge into the office was not particularly great timing.
'I should probably go home,' she said reluctantly, raising her arms and leaning back to stretch. Samar didn't really want to leave; it was late, she was tired, and driving home now seemed like so much effort... But for what? To be alone in an empty apartment? Samar had already resigned herself to the fact that she very much preferred Aram's company. But she couldn't just say all of that, and there was no other reasonable excuse for her to stay. 
'O-oh, ok...' Aram didn't particularly want Samar to leave either, and he definitely didn't want her to feel like she had to leave. Samar stood up from the couch, and Aram followed suit. 'You don't have to go, you know.' Samar shifted uneasily on her feet, avoiding Aram's gaze.
'I can't exactly stay...' She paused for a second, 'can I?' Her eyes quickly flickered to meet Aram's; he had moved to step away and follow Samar from the couch just as she had stopped and turned back to respond to him, and his coming to a sudden halt so as not to walk straight into her meant that he now stood almost as close to her as he had in the office earlier in the day. Aram's brain was screaming at him, desperately searching for any reason to ask Samar to stay.
'You can stay as long as you like,' he said softly. It wasn't quite what he wanted to say but, if Samar's own lack of progress in walking from the couch to the front door -not to mention the fact that despite how close they stood to one another, she hadn't taken a step back- was any indication of how she felt, Aram hoped that it would at least get the message across; I don't want you to go either. A breath caught in Samar's throat; was he saying what she thought he was saying? To a certain degree she still couldn't quite believe how strongly she had come to feel about Aram, though nearly dying for the second time in a month -and in rather spectacular fashion as well- had certainly confirmed it when she realised while hanging that she didn't want to die without at least saying goodbye. It was also nearly impossible not to pick up on the fact that Aram felt much the same about her. But, was pursuing those feelings really a good idea?

That was the question that had been bothering her for the last week.  

But now there they were, just inches from each other for the second time in one day; neither of them wanting to back away, and with no Ressler there to barge in at the last second. Now one of them had to make the decision; to stay or to go. They stood in silence, each hoping the other would move first; it was almost as if they were frozen in time... Almost . A twinge of searing pain suddenly shot through Samar's injured leg, catching her off guard and breaking her gaze as she quickly shifted her stance to take her weight off her injury. But Aram, seeing her suddenly move sideways without a sound and thinking she was falling, instinctively reached out with both arms to catch her, ultimately bringing her even closer still. Samar glanced at him in surprise, but didn't pull away. Aram held her gaze. Then, before he had any idea what was happening, Samar kissed him. There was a split-second of shock before Aram finally kissed her back; first gently, then passionately. Somewhere in the back of his mind there were fireworks and party poppers going off as the realisation hit him; he was kissing Samar!

And then she pulled away.

'This is a really bad idea,' she said worriedly, suddenly doubting that she was making the right decision. Aram's mind was spinning. What just happened!? Samar took a half step backwards in a half-hearted move to leave but Aram grabbed her hand, stopping her.
'Hey...' he started, giving her hand a small squeeze. 'We talked about this, remember?'
'I know, it's just... It's complicated.' She looked away, focusing her gaze on a loose thread on the couch.
'I know. I know it's not easy for you, but you can't keep doing this. You can't keep running from people because you don't want to lose them. You think losing them will hurt you but Samar, if you keep doing this you'll end up hurt anyway.' Samar looked up again, her lip twitching slightly.
'Since when are you so serious and outspoken?'
'You almost died for the second time in a month today. That tends to make me pretty serious,' Aram responded flatly. 
'Ok, but... This isn't going to be easy.'
'I know,' he said, trying to calm her. 
'And if I get reassigned somewhere else and have to suddenly leave, I-'
'We'll figure it out.'
'And you'll be ok with that?' She asked hesitantly. Aram nodded. 'And, you won't panic every time I get injured in the field?' That was Samar's final deciding factor; danger was a natural part of her job and she was in no way prepared to give it up. At some point she was bound to nearly die again, and she needed him to accept that. Aram raised a wary eyebrow. 
'Can I worry a little if you get seriously injured?' He asked cautiously. He was after all, essentially asking Samar to confront her anxiety about getting close to people in the most head-on way possible, so it seemed fair that he should confront some of his own anxieties as well. But, he seriously doubted that he could watch her get hurt without even batting an eyelid. Samar thought about it for a moment, then nodded, and Aram let out a small sigh of relief. 'Ok, deal.' Samar's lip twitched again as she took in the expression on his face; a combination of nervousness and excitement. It was exactly how she felt as well. She took the half-step back towards him.
'Alright, well...' Samar trailed off and tentatively leaned in to kiss him again. 'I think I'll stay a little longer.' Aram grinned and wrapped his arms around her before kissing her back again. He had said it once, and he didn't need to say it again;

Samar could stay as long as she liked.

Chapter Text

Samar awoke to the light from the streetlights outside streaming in through the window. Wait, the window? There wasn't usually a window on that side of her bed. She moved to sit up and look around the room but a pair of arms that were wrapped around her pulled her back. She looked behind her...

Aram.

That's right... You're not at your apartment, you're at Aram's. She laid back down as the memories of the night before came back to her, and quickly pulled her arm back under the covers. It was freezing. And, she took a sneaky glance back at Aram, he was really warm. Hmm. She shifted, turning slightly to find a more comfortable position and then promptly curled up again, burying her face in his arm. Huh, this was kind of nice. She actually felt... Happy? Well yes, but that wasn't the word she was looking for. Her brow furrowed, trying to figure out this very pleasant, but very unfamiliar feeling...

Peaceful.

Well, yes. But still not quite the word she was looking for. Oh well. She closed her eyes and let out a small, happy sigh. The arms wrapped around her tightened a little,

'Good morning...' Came a muffled voice. Samar opened her eyes again and looked up to face Aram. His eyes were still closed but a small grin tugged at his lips. Aram had woken up just a few minutes before Samar had, but he hadn't wanted to move in case he woke her up. To a certain degree, part of him was waiting for her to change her mind again about them being more than friends, but more than anything, he was in utter, joyous disbelief at the whole situation. Those few minutes had given him time for the reality to sink in, and now he couldn't stop smiling even if he tried.
'You're awake.'
'Mmhmm,' he kissed her forehead and then buried his face in her hair. Why is he just lying there if he's awake? She could understand staying in bed if the other person was still sleeping, but they were both awake now. Didn't he have things to do? Like, go for a run or something? Then she remembered; the Post Office was closed. They had absolutely nothing to do today, and... She pulled a face… It was cold. Plus, Aram wasn't the morning exercise person, she was. Ok, she closed her eyes and relaxed again, running can wait. Aram let out his own small sigh of contentment as she stopped squirming.

Oh yeah, this was nice.

'It's still early, we don't have to get up just yet,' he said quietly, as if reading her thoughts. But, he hadn't opened his eyes yet this morning...
'How can you possibly know that?' Samar mumbled back.
'The morning traffic rush doesn't start until around 7. I haven't heard it go past the window yet.'

/*/*/*/*

The traffic noises started coming through the window about twenty minutes later, finally waking both of them up for good. Neither of them particularly wanted to move, but-
'Argh, I need to go to the bathroom,' Samar grumbled. Aram pulled his arms back so that she was free to move and looked at her blankly.
'So... Go.' She screwed up her face.
'But it's cold!' Aram held back a chuckle. But, she swatted him across the shoulder, clearly he hadn't managed to hold back the smirk. 'It's not funny.' Oh, but it was funny.
'How can you hate the cold so much?' She just stared at him. Was he serious?
'I grew up in a desert!'
'I thought even deserts get cold at night?'
'Oh they do but, it was always warm again by the time I woke up.' She was sitting up by this point, but with the blankets still as close to her chin as she could manage to pull them. Aram gave her a little push.
'The quicker you go, the quicker you can come back. Try running to the bathroom.' She glared at him. How was he so cheerful? Maybe he was one of those terrifying 'morning people'. Though, she kept glaring at him, for Aram, it really was a valid question any time of the day. She sighed as she tentatively pushed back the blankets, swung her feet to the floor and stood up. She hurried halfway across the room, and then stopped suddenly. Why was she stopping if she needed to go to the bathroom?  Samar ducked down to pick something up off the floor that Aram couldn't see, then stood up again, now dangling his t-shirt from her fingers.
'This might help,' she said with a saucy grin. It was long enough that it covered her underwear completely. She slipped it over her head, pulled her long hair out from where it had ended up caught underneath, and hurried across the rest of the room to the bathroom.

Whoa. That was, Aram let out an appreciative grin that thankfully Samar could not see from inside the bathroom, very nice.

He had thought she always looked amazing anyway, but in his old t-shirt that was too big for her, those long, bare legs, and her hair wildly pointing in about eleven different directions? He thanked his lucky stars for a moment that his mother had taught him to appreciate beauty but not objectify anyone because of it, because dressed like that Samar was gorgeous. Though... He thought back to that saucy grin she had just thrown at him... She probably knew that already.

The sound of the toilet flushing and taps running jolted his mind from its wanderings. He had already pulled the blankets back up when Samar had jumped out of bed so that the inside of the bed wouldn't get cold in the five minutes that she wasn't there. But now, as the bathroom door opened again, he quickly pulled them halfway down so that she could run back and climb straight back in.

Which, she did. In fact, she practically dived on top of him.

Not even bothering to stifle a laugh this time, Aram pulled the blankets back up and around her, before wrapping his arms around her again too. Samar shivered, and grumbled something completely unintelligible as she squashed her face into Aram's chest. She really was adorable in the morning, despite the crankiness. Actually, she was adorable all the time. Not that she would ever admit that, nor would anyone believe Aram if he said it. But then again, he would probably never tell anyone that anyway.

She might actually kill him.

'Are you quite comfortable there?' He asked teasingly, but gently rubbing her back at the same time.
'Mmhmm.' She still hadn't figured out what that feeling was, but she sure as hell felt it right now. Content? Comfortable? Cosy? Well, yes to all of those, but they still weren't the words she was looking for. Could she ask Aram? Probably. Did she want to? Not really, but... Now it was bugging her.

And then the proverbial lightbulb went off.

'Aram...' She started slowly. He murmured back in response. 'You know how you said you don't need a place to feel like you belong somewhere?' His brow furrowed, wondering where this was going.
'...Yeah?'
'I know what you meant now.' Aram's eyes widened, and he felt Samar's face grow warm against his chest. Aw. He bit his lip, she was embarrassed. He kissed the top of her head, and pulled her in even closer to him.
'I'm glad,' he whispered back soothingly. And that was all he had to say. Samar had finally figured out what that feeling was; that she was home... That she was supposed to be there. That she belonged somewhere -or at least, momentarily.

And in that moment, it was right there, with Aram.

Chapter Text

Aram looked up from his laptop and pushed it away with a hint of amusement as Samar suddenly landed next to him on the couch, now wearing pyjama pants and an old tank top. They had spent most of the day out and about, but by the time they got back to Samar's apartment, she was definitely ready to lose as many cold-weather layers as possible. Not that she was warm in the slightest, just that she preferred to be in lighter, warmer-weather clothes.

But Aram wasn’t about to point out the flaws in that logic.

One leg of her pyjama pants slid up to her knee as Samar threw her legs onto his lap and stretched out across the couch, and Aram spotted the fresh scar from the bullet fired by one of Luther Braxton's men. It was still pink. Samar watched him as he gently rested his hand on the top of her ankle and traced the scar with his thumb, wondering what was going through his mind.

He was wondering how many of her other scars came from bullets.

His eyes flicked back to Samar's. She gave him a small smile.
'It's not as bad as it looks,' she said gently. She pulled up the bottom of her tank top  to show him the one on her abdomen. 'Look at this one,' Aram did so, 'it's starting to fade. The one on my leg will as well, eventually.' The one on her abdomen was from when she was shot at the airport, when she and Liz were infected by the plague. He had seen a few others in various places across her body over the last week or so, and though Samar had definitely become far more open with him since that first morning they woke up together, she hadn't once said anything about those silvery-white marks on her golden-brown skin. Aram had begun to worry if she had too many scars, both literal and figurative, for him to keep up with. 'Hey,' she prompted, nudging his knee with her foot to bring his attention back from wherever it was wandering. 'I mean it, they're fine.'
'Are you sure?' He asked, a flash of concern crossed his face as he traced the pink line on her leg again. Samar nodded.
'I might worry about being hurt by people, but scars have never bothered me,' she said earnestly. 'Remember when I said not to focus on the times I nearly died but didn't?' Aram nodded. How could he forget that conversation? That was the conversation they'd had after Braxton. 'The scars are the souvenirs. They're what remind me to focus on the fact that I survived.' It almost sounded like a point of pride for her. But she continued; 'they all have a story. Speaking of which,' she pointed at the scar on her leg, 'I haven't got a good story for that one yet.'
'You were shot, while jumping aboard a blacksite so secret that it doesn't officially exist,' Aram was confused. Wasn't that story obvious?
'No, come on. That's not a story I can tell people when they see it and ask, it's classified.' Ahhh. Aram grinned in understanding.
'Ok, what about... A shark bite?' He suggested. Samar laughed.
'Actually, that's what I thought of for the last one,' she gestured to her abdomen again before waving her hand through the air dramatically as she said; 'I wrestled with a shark while swimming off the coast of some tropical island.' Right, an interesting, not-classified story then. Aram put on his best mock serious thinking face, stroking his beard equally dramatically as he did so.
'Hmm.... What about... You cut your leg on a rock while abseiling down a really big mountain that you just climbed?'
'Did you forget I don't like cold weather?' Oh. That was a good point.
'What about a volcano then? You can’t get further away from the cold than hot lava!'
'Who abseils down a volcano?'
'Probably the same sort of crazy people who wrestle sharks?' He teased. Samar laughed. It was an honest, and joyous laugh. Aram just watched her, smiling as he noticed that even her eyes were watering a little from laughing so hard. Maybe he didn't have to worry about her scars after all. He pulled the bunched up pyjama leg back down to its respective ankle, then slid his finger down the ticklish spot on the bottom of her foot. She squeaked as she both laughed and pulled her legs back as far away from him as she could without getting off the couch, arming herself with a cushion to either throw at him or smack him with. Probably the latter, she wouldn't run out of ammo that way. Aram laughed too, at the oh-so-threatening, polka-dotted, blue cushion.

Her scars were just fine.

Chapter Text

The happy sounds of laughter and dinner conversation filled Aram's apartment. It was New Year's Eve, so considering all the less than fortunate things that had happened in everyone's lives since the formation of the taskforce, Aram had decided that some impromptu festivities were required. Liz, Ressler and of course Samar, sat around the kitchen table with him, enjoying their glasses of wine and large slices of chocolate cake that Aram had bought from a local cake shop for dessert. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen everyone so relaxed and animated; Ressler had even arrived in a hoodie and jeans, and if that wasn't something to be considered the epitome of relaxed, Aram was officially at a loss for what was.  

Plus, it was just nice to see everyone out of the office and spending time together for once.

Aram cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.
'Uhh ok. So, it's New Year's Eve, and that means we should probably all make some New Year's resolutions, right?' He chirped. Ressler grumbled in protest, while Liz and Samar just rolled their eyes at each other good-naturedly and kicked him under the table. They were all lightly buzzed and Aram had put out a pretty delicious spread, so they really had no reason not to humour him and have some fun with a few silly resolutions -even if they were more like an awkward toast to the new year, at this point. Aram looked expectantly at Samar, waiting for her to start. Hmmm.... What to resolve? Raising her glass, she declared with slight exasperation;
'I resolve to stay alive for another year!' Everyone else just turned to stare at her. Clearly, that had come out a little more serious than intended. She quickly forced a chuckle to make light of the statement, as if it were the field agent's equivalent of the joking birthday wish to have another birthday. It worked, mostly. Liz and Ressler both laughed, but Aram shot her a startled look. He forced his own laugh so that Samar wouldn't realise he had in fact picked up on the more serious intent behind her resolution, hoping that it was just her three glasses of wine talking. He raised his own glass;
'I am going to bike to work more often this year,' he resolved. Ressler snickered, and the other three all shot him the evil eye. 
'Oooh, that's a good one,' Liz said, nodding sagely, 'it'll be good for your fitness!'
'And for the environment too,' added Samar, knowing that Aram was fond of all environmental causes at the moment. They all looked back at Ressler.
'Ok, what's yours then?' Liz asked him. Ressler tilted his head in mock thoughtfulness. In reality Samar's words, though he thought they were in jest, had made him think of his own more serious resolution. Over Christmas he had spent a considerable amount of time thinking about Audrey, and what his Christmas could have looked like if she hadn't been killed by Mako Tanida. Liz's words about getting help for his drug addiction had also been circling in the back of his mind, so as Christmas passed Ressler had decided that maybe it was about time to start going to Narcotics Anonymous. If not for him, or his career, then for Audrey; Ressler knew that she wouldn't want to see him throw his life away. That was his real New Year's resolution.  

But of course, they were all joking around tonight.

'Uhh... I resolve that...' He turned to look at Liz, 'it's your turn!' Liz grinned and raised her glass.
'I resolve that we all need to have another slice of this cake, it's too good to waste!' She exclaimed. Samar clinked glasses with her in agreement, and Aram reached for their dessert bowls so that he could refill them. It was a good distraction really, because Liz also had her own more serious, lonely-Christmas inspired resolution; she wanted to finally find out the truth about her parents, whether Reddington was willing to help her or not. But in the meantime, she really did want more cake.  

In fact, they all did.

/*/*/*/*

Ressler and Liz each eventually left as the night wore on, finally leaving Samar and Aram to clear the kitchen together. But despite the generally jovial evening, they were both a little subdued; the awkward sharing of New Year's resolutions –or more specifically, Samar's less than cheerful slip-up- lingered in the backs of both their minds. Aram wasn't sure whether he should or shouldn't bring it up, but there was one thing bothering him that he desperately wanted to know. 
'Did you mean what you said earlier? About staying alive for another year?' He asked, suddenly breaking the silence. Samar looked over from the table to where Aram stood by the sink doing dishes, startled by the question. 
'Of course not, I was joking,' she said, a little too dismissively. Aram paused and took in the expression on her face, eyebrows furrowed. It was an odd expression; a small, forced smile and ever so slightly raised eyebrows –it was the face she pulled when she tried to hide the fact that something was bothering her. 
'I'm not so sure you were,' he said quietly, tilting his head and looking at her in concern. Samar sighed; of course Aram had picked up on her brief moment of anxiety. She couldn’t get her head around how he managed it exactly, but the closer they became, the more Samar realised that Aram could read her like a book –even though she prided herself on the fact that normally, that was something nobody could do. 'But Samar, what I want to know is... Does that mean you normally just run into the field not caring whether you survive?' Samar inhaled sharply at that, and shook her head, her heart suddenly aching at the worry that was undoubtedly swirling around in Aram's head. 
'No,' she said quickly, and Aram exhaled in relief as Samar hurried across the kitchen to reassure him. 'It means that I've gone a long time prioritising other things ahead of myself, just to do my job without worrying about it. And now... Now, I feel it's time that I think about myself a little more.' She shot him a wry smile; 'you know, if you hadn't put me on the spot, I'd have probably resolved to finally decorate my apartment for once.' Aram let out a small smile, not entirely reassured; decorating her apartment was a far more positive resolution, but it had its own touch of seriousness too. And, it lined up with the more serious resolution that he had hidden at the table earlier, just as everyone else had.  

He wanted to help her find 'home' at last.  

Aram wasn't at all confident that he knew what that goal would entail, but the fact that Samar constantly moved from place to place without ever feeling like anything but an outsider still troubled him, and it was something he wanted to change. In that regard, decorating Samar's apartment was a significant step; it meant that she wasn't planning on leaving any time soon, which in turn... Might just mean that she was ready to find 'home' too. Aram's lip quirked up in sudden hope as he processed that idea. His small smile widened, his whole face now lit up in enthusiasm.
'Where are you going to start?' Samar chuckled at just how quickly Aram had begun bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement, before turning to lean back against the counter, beside him. A thoughtful look crossed her face as she considered the answer to his question. 
'That... Is a very good question,' she began, before glancing at him; 'any suggestions?' Aram gazed around his own apartment, contemplating the sheer volume of possibilities. 
'Well...' He suddenly had so many ideas that he didn't know where to start in getting them all out, 'you could put up some photos, or put up a shelf for your books, or... Maybe put a throw blanket over your couch for when you get cold, I mean, I know you already have those blue cushions but-' Samar quickly leaned sideways, planting a kiss on his lips to make him stop talking long enough to actually draw breath. 
'I just created a monster, didn't I?’ She sighed in mock-exasperation. Aram nodded eagerly, his eyes now twinkling with glee.
'Yep!'

Chapter Text

Aram looked up from his computer to see Samar leaning back in her desk chair with an amused smirk on her face. She wasn't working, or even facing her own desk for that matter. She had turned her chair around to face his, and was resting her arms lazily behind her head.
'What are you doing?' Aram asked, a little unnerved.
'Watching you,' she replied matter-of-factly.
'Uhhh...' Aram wasn't sure if he did or did not want to know where this was going. 'Why?'
'I'm bored.' Oh no. Samar bored was dangerous territory. 'Liz and Ressler are in Uzbekistan, there's nothing for me to do here.'
'So... You're watching me?'
'Yep!' Samar sighed, far too happily for Aram's liking, as she leaned even further back in her chair. Aram had no idea how to respond to that, besides just rolling with whatever strange and mischievous mood she was in until she was, well, out of it.
'And... Of all the possibilities, watching me is how you choose to entertain yourself?' He asked warily. Samar smiled mischievously and slowly put her arms down. In a single bound she jumped out of her chair and stood directly opposite him, with only his desk in between them.
'What can I say?' She teased in a low voice as she leaned over the desk. 'You're nice to look at.' Samar tilted her head slightly, enjoying the blush that was now creeping across Aram's face.
'Well uhhh... Thanks, I think.' Samar could barely keep from laughing, toying with him was the real entertainment. 'But um, we're at work so,' he looked pointedly at her, 'try not to have too much fun?' The last thing they both needed was her boredom to result in their relationship being discovered. Samar strolled around his desk, running her hand slowly along the edge behind her as she did so, until she reached his side.
'Why?' She whispered seductively in Aram's ear. 'Cooper's not here, he's briefing the CIA.' A breath caught in Aram's throat, and he very determinedly tried to focus on his computer instead of her. Samar looked him up and down, he really was nice to look at. But then again, she had already become familiar with that fact over the winter.

Very familiar.

Samar watched him try to resist her distractions. Huh. He was surprisingly good at it. That was no fun. She screwed up her face, trying to figure out how to best catch him off guard. She strolled around to his other side, draping her arm across his back, and pretended to take interest in what was on his computer screen.
'What's that?' She asked off-handedly, pointing at a flashing dot on the screen with her other hand. Aram glanced at her suspiciously, wondering what her new tactic was to distract him. Samar just looked at him sweetly, waiting for a response. But she was still half wrapped around him. Aram turned back to his computer, a small smirk of amusement creeping across his face as he realised that he was successfully thwarting her attempts to distract him.
'That, is the GPS on Ressler's phone, so I can keep track of where he is,' he said in the best fake informative voice he could muster. He turned back to Samar and deadpanned; 'but, you already knew that.' Aram folded his arms and tilted his head, looking at her smugly. Samar faced him, mirroring his position. Then suddenly, she turned and practically waltzed back to her chair.

Now satisfied that he wasn't going to be faced with any immediate, inappropriate workplace touching, Aram turned back to his computer once more. Samar on the other hand, resumed her earlier position of watching him from her chair with her hands tucked behind her head. But this time, the expression on her face wasn't idle amusement. It was more like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

Except, he was the puzzle.

That was slightly disconcerting. Aram raised an eyebrow as he worked.
'Now what are you doing?' He asked, still concentrating on the screen.
'Figuring out what to do next,' she said slowly, earning herself a wary glance. It was time for the honesty tactic. If her creeping around his desk wasn't enough to completely distract him, then knowing that she was plotting something, but not knowing what, might just cut it.
'Do you need to have something to do?' He asked, against his better judgement. Samar's face lit up with glee.
'Well... If you prefer, I can just sit here and watch you.' Aram furrowed his brow. Ok, she had a point. Samar just sitting there and undressing him with her eyes for who-knows-how-long was not going to help him at all.

Well, not at work, anyway.

'Ok umm...' Aram tried to think of something, anything, for her to do. 'Why don't you call your Mossad contacts? See if they have any information on Denisov that we don't?' Samar's face fell. That idea hadn't occurred to her, and it was so logical! But she'd been having so much fun torturing Aram...
'Didn't you already find everything on him there is to know?' She asked. He had actually, but he wasn't going to tell her that. So he shrugged his shoulders.
'Doesn't hurt to double check!' With a small grumble, Samar twisted her chair around to face her own desk again and picked up her phone. Aram couldn't believe that he'd managed to get away with that so easily.
'So, there was no point to all of that distraction?' He asked incredulously. Samar glanced at him over her shoulder as she waited for whoever she was calling, to answer the phone.
'Of course there was. I was bored, now I'm not,' she said matter-of-factly. She hung up the phone as it rung out, picked it up again, and dialled another number instead.
'Why didn't you just ask me to give you something to do?' Actually, now he thought about it, it wouldn't take her long to make the call and find out that it was a useless task. He should probably start thinking of another task for her to do next. Samar shot him a mischievous look over her shoulder.
'Where's the fun in that?'

Chapter Text

Aram watched anxiously as Samar came downstairs after having left the boy from the Kenyon van in one of the interview rooms. A slight sick feeling had settled in his gut when he'd heard that she had defied orders not to approach the van, and now there was an awkward tension that hung in the air between them. Samar glanced at him as she reached the bottom of the stairs, only to quickly look away again when she saw him staring. As she walked straight past him and headed towards the empty break room, Aram checked over his shoulder to make sure nobody was watching, then followed her.

She was waiting, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, as Aram closed the door behind him.

'Is there a problem?' She asked, a slight frost to her tone.
'You didn't say hello when you got back,' he deflected for a moment. Were they really doing this? Aram looked worriedly at the impatient look on her face and concluded that yes, they were about to have their first 'discussion'. In the break room of all places.
'Neither did you,' Samar shot back.
'I was busy.'
'So was I.' They stared at each other in silence for a moment as another agent walked in, and then very quickly back out, of the break room. No doubt, to escape the thunderous look on Samar's face.
'They told you not to cross the firing line,' Aram said quietly, but still seriously. Samar looked at the ceiling and shook her head in frustration.
'That's what's bothering you?' She hissed back. 'That I went to talk down a young kid because I didn't think he should be treated like a suspect?'
'What bothers me is that you were perfectly safe, but then you deliberately put yourself next to a kid with a van full of explosives! You didn't know where his head was at. He could have hit that switch and killed the both of you. You could have died, again.' Oh. Samar gritted her teeth. They were back to this. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself.
'Aram,' she started quietly and slowly. She was deliberately trying to control her voice so as not to sound upset. 'You promised when we started this, to not...' She paused, trying to settle on the least offensive word, 'panic, every time I end up in a dangerous situation.' Aram dropped his eyes to the ground. She had a point, and he knew it.

But he had a point too.

'This was one you could have avoided,' he said flatly. Samar's eyes flashed in anger.
'I said I would work on my anxieties if you worked on yours,' she said shortly, 'and I'm keeping my word. I want this to work but Aram, it won't if you don't keep to yours. It won't, if you don't let me do my job.' Aram's eyes snapped to hers.
'Your job is to follow orders, including orders that you don't like, that tell you to stay behind a firing line!' He was getting desperate now. He didn't want this to come between them, either professionally or personally, but at the same time he wanted her to understand that he just wanted to keep her safe. No, he needed her to understand.
'That came from local police. I'm a federal agent, my decision superseded those orders.' Aram sighed. Samar was resorting to technicalities now. Clearly, she was not understanding what he was trying to say. Samar's arms were folded tightly across her chest as she just looked at him frustratedly, waiting for a response. The technicality was a low blow really, but she didn't know what else to say and she knew it would annoy him. Aram looked defeated, how else could he respond to that? He sighed again as he thought about it, running his fingers through his hair anxiously.
'Now if you don't mind,' she continued angrily, 'I have work to get back to and a child to re-unite with his mother!' Samar pushed past him to storm through the door back out to the war room.

/*/*/*/*

They worked together as minimally and as strictly professionally as they could manage for the rest of the day until Samar went back out into the field to assist Liz and Ressler. It bothered her that she and Aram had fought, but she tried to push it out of her mind. She did have a job to do, after all.

Though, by the time she was back at the Post Office and ready to go home, the events that had transpired during the day were still swirling around in the back of her mind. She knew Aram wasn't usually one to speak out like that unless it was something he felt strongly about, and that made her wonder; perhaps this was bothering him more than she first thought.

But when she looked for him at his desk, he had already left.

That stung. It had become a routine that if she was out in the field late, Aram would wait for her to return so they could walk out together. Whether they went home together or not didn't matter, but it was the small gesture of leaving the building together that for some reason, made the difference.

Samar drove home, tired and frustrated. But when she finally parked, she found herself unable to get out of the car. A tear ran down her face and splashed onto the steering wheel. What does all this really come down to? she asked herself. You're angry because he cares about you? Samar furrowed her brow. The fact that Aram hadn't called or even left her a message to try and talk things out bothered her now. Aram wasn't the kind to stay angry for this long, that was what she did. So the fact that he hadn't said anything... Samar sighed miserably, she must have really hurt him.

She sat, seat belt still buckled, and thought about what Aram had said to her. Sure, he had gotten upset at her being in danger- something he had said he would try not to do- but... She couldn't really hold that against him, could she? Aram cared about her, a lot. And, she thought to herself, she hadn't had anyone worry about her that much in a long time. It was kind of nice, at least, in a slightly twisted kind of way. With a small sigh, Samar turned the key in the ignition.

She had somewhere else to be.

/*/*/*/*

Samar took a deep breath and cautiously knocked on Aram's door. She had thought about stopping along the way to arm herself with a pizza so that he might be more likely to open the door, but eventually decided against it. She figured that it was better just to resolve things as soon as possible.

Aram got up from his couch when he heard the knock. He stopped to look through the peephole before opening the door and gritted his teeth when he saw Samar standing there. What the hell? He stood behind the door for a minute, unable to decide whether to open it.
'Aram...' She said through the door, 'I know you're there.' Aram huffed. He wasn't angry at her anymore, but he was still a little annoyed at the fact she was being so stubborn. But then again, the thought that had bugged him for the rest of the afternoon raised its voice again, your point was just as valid as hers. Aram opened the door. Samar looked at him sheepishly, shoulders slumped and her head bowed slightly.
'I'm sorry I scared you,' she said quietly, still standing in the doorway. 'I guess I'm not used to the idea of other people worrying about me.' Aram's eyes widened and his mouth made a small 'o' in surprise. Why was she apologising? He thought he was the one in the wrong!
'No,' he said, 'I'm sorry. You're right, I did promise.' Samar shook her head and gave him a soft smile.
'I do need to do my job, but it's not fair to expect you to keep a promise like that.' Aram took a step sideways so that she could step into his apartment. Wanting to explain as quickly as possible now, Samar kept talking as she followed him down the hallway; 'I'm just so tired of seeing kids used as weapons in wars they don't understand.' Aram stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her when she said it. So that's why she was so reckless today. The idea that Samar's job was dangerous was one he had been adjusting to, but it was the fact that this time she had deliberately walked across that firing line when she didn't have to... He hadn't thought she was that reckless, especially after her resolutions over the new year -joking or otherwise. Aram had hoped that Samar would start trying to be more careful, not less. But now it made sense.  Aram looked at her face; her eyes had flickered to the side, almost as if she was remembering another incident that perhaps hadn't gone as well.

Before Samar even knew what was happening, Aram wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight, deciding not to ask what it was she was thinking about. He could appreciate the need to stand for something like that, even if he didn't always agree with her more reckless methods. He was just glad that she was ok.
'I just don't want you in any more danger than you absolutely have to be,' he murmured softly. Samar nodded against his shoulder, as she leaned into him contently.
'And to think I thought that I would need to bribe you with pizza to forgive me,' she muttered. Aram pulled back and grabbed her by the shoulders.
'You deliberately opted not to bring me a pizza?' He asked in mock horror. He shook his head, 'I don't know if I can forgive you for that one,' he teased. Samar rolled her eyes, making Aram laugh as he dragged her by the hand into the kitchen and pointed to the pizza box that was already sitting on the counter. Her stomach growled at the sight of it, making her realise that with all the stress she'd forgotten to eat lunch. With a wink, she let go of his hand, reached for a slice and bit into it hungrily.

Yep, they were going to be ok.

Chapter Text

Aram wandered into the Post Office humming slightly, and with a spring in his step - not that he was really aware of either of those. He and Samar had gone out to dinner the night before, she had stayed over, and then they had enjoyed a delicious breakfast together that morning. Aram had freshly squeezed some orange juice in his new juicer, and Samar had made pancakes. It was a beautiful and totally clichéd moment of domestic bliss.

And then Samar left early so that she had time to stop by her place and change before coming into work. Apparently she had discovered that the distance between their apartments was the perfect distance for her to run. Aram had stopped for a moment when she said it, wondering exactly how, why and when she could have made such a discovery. But by that point she had already kissed him on the cheek and ran out the door.

'Good Morning,' came a familiar voice. Aram looked up from his phone. There was Ressler standing at his desk, clearly waiting for him. 'You're chirpy this morning,' he observed, in a tone that was somehow a cross between suspicion and amusement.
'Oh... Am I?'
'Who is what?' Came Liz's voice, as she walked into the Post Office behind Aram.
'Aram. He's chirpy this morning.' Liz rolled her eyes at Ressler and smiled good-naturedly at Aram.
'Aram's always chirpy!' Aram nodded quickly in agreement, looking first at Liz, and then at Ressler.
'He was humming.'
'Oooh was he-?'
'I was?' they both asked simultaneously. Liz and Ressler exchanged amused glances. Oh, great.
'So umm... Where's Samar this morning?' Liz asked ever-so-innocently.
'Samar? Oh uhh... Why would I know where she is?' Aram stammered.
'He just answered a question with a question,' Liz stage whispered to Ressler. They exchanged amused glances again. Where is this going? Do they know? Aram started to panic.
'Who answered a question with a question?' Came Samar's voice absent-mindedly as she too, wandered into the Post Office. Aram spun around wildly, but Samar was too busy looking at her phone and hadn't looked up yet.
'Samar! Good morning!' Aram was practically bursting at the seams, trying not visibly squirm. Samar looked up confused, to find the three of them staring at her; Aram with wide, panicky eyes, Liz and Ressler with looks of mock suspicion.
'Is something happening?' She asked slowly.
'It's not Samar, she's not chirpy,' Liz continued to stage whisper to Ressler.
'Samar's never chirpy,' Ressler whispered back.
'I'm right here, you know.' They ignored her. Aram was now very obviously avoiding making eye contact with any of them.
'Aram's got a girlfriend!' Ressler announced amusedly.
'I...' Aram spluttered, now looking directly at them. 'I- what?!'
'We’re trying to figure out who,' Liz added, ignoring the splutter. Samar raised her eyebrows and grinned mischievously. So that's what was going on! Oh, this could be fun!
'Ooh, does he now?' Samar looked at Aram, trying hard not to laugh. 'How do we know this?'
'He was humming,' Ressler again. Matter-of-factly.
'I was not!' Aram objected. Samar smirked.
'Who wasn't humming?' Reddington strolled into the Post Office.
'Aram!' Liz, Ressler and Samar answered, all smirking.
'Oh!' Reddington exclaimed exuberantly, clapping Aram on the back as he did so. 'Good for you, Aram! Who's the lucky lady?' Aram tried very earnestly to burn a hole in the cement floor with imaginary eye lasers. Reddington stole a quick glance to Samar at his side while Liz and Ressler laughed. Samar flashed back to their first encounter; 'I know everything about the people tasked with finding me,' he had said at the time. Reddington handed a file to Liz. 'Well, now that we've had our fun for the morning, we have a case to discuss.' Aram breathed a sigh of relief as Liz and Ressler headed over to the briefing area.
'Agent Navabi,' Red muttered discreetly, once Liz and Ressler were out of earshot, 'If the two of you want to keep this to yourselves, here's a tip; don't wear the same colour lipstick to work that you've already left on poor Agent Mojtabai's collar.' Red winked at Aram as he and Samar exchanged horrified glances. Sure enough, though it was only just visible, there was a small, light pink mark on Aram's collar. Samar quickly tried to rub away her lipstick with the back of her hand and Aram slipped his jacket back on to cover the marked spot on his collar as Reddington strode ahead. 'So agents... The case?'

Chapter Text

The sheets felt cold as Samar rubbed her eyes and rolled over. Wait... Cold? She opened her eyes; Aram wasn't there next to her as he should have been. Samar sat up and looked around curiously. There was no light coming from the bathroom, and the other side of the bed looked like it hadn't been slept in at all. With a small sigh of exasperation, Samar kicked back the sheets, climbed out of bed and traipsed out of the bedroom, stopping in the doorway just short of the living room.  

Aram was still sitting on the couch with files spread out everywhere around him, working furiously at his laptop.

'I thought you said you were coming to bed as soon as you figured that out,' she mused. Aram had spent all evening anxiously gathering information on all the potential guests for the Kings' auction and sifting through it, trying to figure out the location of the next one and of course, find Reddington. It was like a puzzle he needed to solve, both out of frustration at not being able to figure it out sooner, and out of genuine concern for what might happen if Reddington remained missing. They had worked on it together for a while; it was bothering Samar as well, but not so much that she was going to prioritise it over sleep. Once she started struggling to keep her eyes open, she decided it would be better to stop, and start afresh in the morning. Aram however, remained determined; insisting that Samar not stay up waiting for him, and that he would go to bed 'soon'. 
'I know, I will,' Aram replied, without taking his eyes off the screen.
'It's half past two.' Aram looked up at her in surprise.
'Whoa, really?' Samar nodded. Aram furrowed his brow. 'Huh, I guess it's taking longer than I thought.' 
'Aram, you need to sleep,' she said, through a muffled yawn. 
'I'm almost done.' That was what he had said three hours earlier. Samar huffed, knowing all too well that the likelihood of Aram going to sleep before he figured out the answer, was slim. On the other hand, if she helped him, their combined efforts might just find the answer earlier, and Aram would actually manage to get some sleep. She crossed the room, reaching for the old sweater Aram had strewn across the couch earlier, and pulled it over her pyjamas as she sleepily dropped to sit down on one of the rare patches of floor around him that wasn't covered in files. 
'Ok, what can I do to help?'

/*/*/*/*

The whistling of the coffee machine woke Samar, for the second time that morning. She half-heartedly opened one eye to check the time; 6:15am. Why was Aram awake and making coffee so early when he'd had such little sleep? She clambered out of bed yet again, and stretched as she trudged towards the kitchen. Aram, already fully dressed, was now busily stacking all the files they had left all over the floor. 
'How are you awake?' Samar grumbled, flatly to the point of not even sounding like a question any more.
'I'm going into the office early to brief Cooper on what we found... He arrives at 7, before the rest of us,' Aram replied absentmindedly, before pausing and looking up warily, 'didn't I mention that?' Samar just looked at him blankly before turning towards the coffee machine.
'Maybe... I need coffee.' It was quite possible that Aram had mentioned it, and Samar just hadn't heard him. Once Aram had identified a particular buyer that would most likely be looking to make a purchase at the auction, Samar had returned her focus to one thing; going back to bed. Besides the fact that the buyer in question was a wealthy Russian who collected masterpieces, she hadn't paid much attention to anything else. There had been so many potential buyers to consider... And she had been so tired. Samar had figured that she would have time to read over the discovery in greater detail over breakfast before going to work, but...

...Apparently Aram had other ideas.

Samar eyed him over her mug of coffee as he continued stacking the files; he didn't seem sleep-deprived at all! She let out a small sigh as she took the last gulp of her coffee and put the mug back down on the counter, before turning on her heels and traipsing out of the kitchen again. Aram glanced up, slightly bewildered, as she wandered away. 
'...Are you going back to bed?' He called out in dismay. Samar waved a lazy hand through the air without turning back.
'No, but I do need a shower,' she muttered, then disappeared through the bathroom door. Aram let out a tiny yawn, and then a frown; he had a bad feeling that today was going to be a very long day.  

/*/*/*/*

'Found anything?' Samar's voice was so exhausted, it sounded almost defeated. She handed Aram a fresh coffee as she sipped at her own and leaned tiredly against his desk, beside him. Not only were they tired, but now they were stressed and running solely on a mix of caffeine and adrenaline; anxious to find the Kings and Liz before anything drastic happened. Samar and Ressler had been busily interrogating the hotel driver but to no avail, and now she needed a break to check in with Aram and compare notes. Aram shook his head in frustration.
'No, you?' Samar shook her head, equally disgruntled. Aram shot her a sympathetic look. 'It's not your fault,' he murmured, squeezing her hand. 
'I didn't think she should go undercover. I said there had to be another way, but she went anyway. And then they took her, while I was supposed to be protecting her. How is that not my fault?' Samar protested. But that wasn't the only thing bothering her; not only had she lost her teammate, she had lost her friend.
'Ressler was there as well,' Aram countered, but Samar shook her head vehemently. 
'That's not the point. She's missing, and we can't find her,' she stressed. That was a point Aram couldn't argue with; he was just as upset as Samar was. 
'I know. She's my friend too,' he said quietly. It was all he needed to say, for Samar to know he understood her frustrations perfectly. Samar leaned a little further sideways, so that she could rest her head atop Aram's. 
'Samar, we're at work,' he warned, eyebrows raised. Thankfully there was nobody else around –everyone was scrambling to find anything that would help them locate Liz.
'I know, just give me a minute.' She rested there for a few seconds longer while Aram went back to typing furiously at his computer, careful not to move in case the change in balance made Samar topple over. Samar had no doubt that her second wind would kick in eventually –presumably once they found Liz and went kicking down doors to rescue her- but for now she just really needed to rest her eyes for a moment.  

But then Aram nearly jumped out of his skin.

'She called her lawyer!' He yelped. Samar furrowed her brow in confusion, rubbing the side of her head where Aram had bumped her when he jumped.
'What?' Aram pointed at the information on his screen.
'Josephine Sullivan... When she was transferred, they let her call her lawyer!' Samar's eyes went wide in horror and she smacked her face against her palm.
'Go brief Cooper,' she said, the urgency not creeping into her voice, so much as rushing. 'I'll tell Ressler. We'll have another go at the driver.' Aram stood from his desk, nodding wordlessly, and then rushed across the room to Cooper's office, Samar hot on his heels on the way back to interrogation.

/*/*/*/*

Aram kicked off his shoes then leaned back into the couch, stretching his arms above his head, glad that the nightmare day was finally over and the case was resolved. 
'Long day?' Samar asked with a smirk as she crossed the room towards the couch, equally glad to be home at last.
'Something like that,' Aram said, before stifling a yawn. 'You know, there's this crazy Mossad agent who likes to hang out around my desk.' Samar shot him a wry smile as she came to a stop, right in front of him.
'Oh really?' She leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his lips.
'Mmhmm.' Aram's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her in towards him. Samar dropped onto his lap, straddling him as she kissed him again. 
'Sounds exhausting,' she murmured, absentmindedly playing with his hair. The sensation of her soft touch drove Aram wild whenever she did that. His hands flitted under the edge of her top and ran up and down her back, making her skin tingle, before settling them on the curves of her hips. 
'It's ok, she's also kind of gorgeous so...' He trailed off, turning sideways and shifting his weight so that she tipped back and lay across the couch underneath him. Samar looked up at him with one eyebrow raised in mock horror. 
'Only kind of?' 
'Oh, did I say 'kind of'? I meant 'extremely' gorgeous,' Aram teased. Samar rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and Aram started popping the buttons on her top, dotting slow kisses all the way down from her neck to her belly. He grinned, instantly pleased with himself when Samar sighed in contentment and pulled him back by the shirt so that they were face to face once again. She pulled the shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor beside them, her bare skin tingling insatiably again at finally making contact with his. Aram buried his face against her neck, kissing her even more passionately this time, as both sets of hands worked in a frenzy at each other's belt buckles before flinging the rest of their clothes to the floor. Samar ran her fingers through Aram's hair, stretching and pushing back against the arm of the couch so that no inch of her neck was out his reach. Aram happily obliged, kissing her everywhere from the edge of her jaw to her collarbone, while simultaneously working his fingers along the lace edging of her underwear. Within seconds, she had shimmied out of them. She tugged at his boxers, impatiently prompting him to do the same. She gasped and arched her back as the foreplay promptly came to an end. Aram leaned back for a moment as they settled into place, his hand drifting along her side until it came to rest against her thigh, and gazing at her slender form laid out across the couch beneath him. His gaze swept over every part of her; from the way her dark golden eyes were now twinkling in the half-light, to the scars scattered all across her body that he now knew well enough to find without looking, and the little goosebumps creeping across her skin at his every touch as he did so. She was so beautiful, and he desperately wanted to take it all in. Samar tilted her head to one side, her eyes dark with pleasure, looking up at the wistful smile on his face. Aram leaned forward a little, bringing his hand back to push her dark curls back off her face and stroke her cheek. Samar leaned against his hand, staring contentedly back up at him and enjoying the initial slowness. 
'What?' She murmured curiously.
'Nothing,' he whispered back, with a slight shake of his head. His lips came crashing down against hers once more, and she pushed back eagerly; her arms wrapping around him and pulling him in closer as his gentle thrusts found their rhythm and steadily quickened in pace. It was impossible for them to be any closer together and yet, they pushed harder; desperate to feel, to touch, to explore every part of each other. It didn't take long for Samar to be so swept up in the sensation that she was overwhelmed –and Aram was already starting to see stars. Now wrapped around one another so tightly, they moved as one, completely immersed in the feelings of pleasure and excitement at each other's reactions. Samar gasped, breathing fast and heavy as she reached her high point; clutching furiously at Aram everywhere she could, and bringing him along with her a second later. Aram gazed blissfully at the satisfied grin on Samar's face and winked, before rolling off her slightly and into the gap between her and the back of the couch. Samar turned and curled into his side, her legs still half wrapped around his, lazily resting her head on his chest and sighing in contentment as his arm wrapped around her back, finally settling along her waist. She closed her eyes sleepily as Aram ran his fingers through her hair.
'Tired?' He asked quietly, holding back a chuckle.
'Mmmmm,' Samar hummed, 'it really was a long day.' With his other hand, Aram tugged at the edge of the blanket draped over the back of the couch, pulling it down and then over the both of them. After the limited sleep they’d both had over the last day or two, neither of them particularly wanted to move from the couch just to go straight to bed. Aram kissed the top of Samar's head as she nuzzled into him a little more. 
'I think we can just stay right here, for once,' he murmured.

Samar simply smiled against his chest in response; she was happy with that plan.

Chapter Text

Aram sat idly at his desk, waiting for Samar to get back to the war room. Liz was stuck at the courthouse all day meaning that once again, the rest of them had almost nothing to do. The one exception of course, was Red's request that they bring in a certain Malaysian diplomat so that the two of them could have a 'conversation'. So, Cooper had told him to take the day off, so long as he came back straight away if things changed. And Samar, not being the lead agent on the team, got the same order; effective as soon as she returned from 'bringing in' said Malaysian diplomat. So long as Cooper and Ressler stayed to keep an eye on things, the Post Office would be fine without them for a day. It wasn't necessary for all four of them do sit around doing nothing.

That said, Aram wasn't sure if it was fair that he and Samar got the day off if Ressler and Cooper had to stay behind. But... They were the two in charge, and Ressler in particular was such a stickler for the rules that he probably wanted to hang around in the Post Office anyway so... Aram wasn't exactly planning on voicing any concerns. He certainly wasn't going to complain about a day off, especially if Samar had one too.  

Now he just had to wait for her to get back.  

/*/*/*/*

'Ok, so...' Aram leaned against Samar's workstation, with his bag over his shoulder, ready to go. She had returned, handed over the offending diplomat, and was now packing up the last few things on her desk. She glanced up in pleasant surprise as Aram suddenly appeared by her desk. 'Do you want to get lunch?' Samar grimaced apologetically. Lunch sounded like a much more enjoyable idea than what she had in mind for her free time, but... 
'I actually should use this time to go shopping, if I want to decorate my apartment any time soon,' Samar sighed. It was a crucial part in the process, but she had been delaying it. Aram frowned, curious about her hesitation. 'I've never liked shopping, it's just so frustrating. There are too many things to go and look at, and all the while you have to push your way through crowds of other people also in bad moods,' she quickly explained. 
'You don't go with a friend? It's not so bad, that way.'
'Since when have I had any friends to go shopping with?' Well, that wasn't completely accurate. Samar had friends –not many, but some- however, they were predominantly teammates from various past assignments, or the occasional park soccer match. She was happy to socialise with them at a bar after work or for a casual lunch on a weekend, but they weren't the kind of people she was comfortable going shopping with –if they were even in the same city. 
'I don't mind shopping. I'll come with you, if you want.' Aram knew doing up her apartment was both important, and a source of anxiety in itself, without something as silly as shopping getting in the way. Plus, he was still a touch over-excited about the whole idea. Samar raised an eyebrow; she didn't want him to have to trail around after her while she disgruntledly went through the process of searching for and picking out a series of random household bits and pieces. It was unbearable enough for her, let alone dragging Aram through it all. 
'Seriously?'
'Why not? We can get lunch while we're at it... You know,' he quickly shot her a mischievous grin, 'as a kind of break when the shopping starts to get too irritating. Besides, I need a few things anyway.' Samar eyed him warily, knowing that this was probably about the best deal she could possibly get, but still mildly apprehensive all the same. That said, if Aram really was that happy to tag along... 
'Ok then, let's go.' Samar flipped her keys around in her hand, letting out a smirk; 'but I'm driving.'

/*/*/*/*  

'Ok, so what do you need to get?' Samar asked, taking the last sip of her soda and setting the glass back down on the table. Aram had been right; lunch was a great way to break up the horrors of a shopping day. They had made good progress so far; Samar had found all kinds of things, from the bookshelf, photo frames and throw rug Aram had originally suggested, to a lamp and even some new curtains to actually match the couch and replace the old, faded ones that came with the apartment when Samar first moved in. But by the time she got through all of that, Samar was about ready to yell at something or worse; someone. So Aram had decided that, despite how amusing he found her scowling at lamps that were too sparkly, curtains that were too frilly, or salespeople whose smiles were too annoyingly fake, that was enough and  it was time for lunch before she actually did start yelling. Normally by that point Samar would have just given up and gone home to keep fuming, only to have to return and finish her shopping another day, but after sitting down for a while and enjoying her meal, Samar was calm enough again to continue.  

And she hadn't forgotten that Aram wanted to pick up a few things too.  

'A new shirt... Maybe a new tie and pocket square?' Aram wasn't entirely sure if the last two items were necessary, but they seemed fitting with the new shirt, considering what it was for. Samar's lip quirked up, curious. 
'Going somewhere fancy?' Aram nodded, shooting her a guilty grin. 
'Actually yeah, and I was going to ask you about that.' Samar raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. 'One of my old NSA friends invited me to his wedding next week. Do you uhh...' He paused, suddenly nervous, 'want to be my plus one? Samar furrowed her brow as she thought about it. She probably should go with him. It was only a couple of months ago that she had wondered what it would be like for the two of them to get all dressed up and go out together somewhere nice, and that idea still lingered in the back of her mind. That said, their relationship was still new, and they were trying to keep it quiet. Going to a wedding together seemed awfully official... And if everyone in attendance was some kind of federal agent... There was a high chance that they might bump into someone they needed to be keeping their relationship from. 'We don't have to say we're a couple, we can say we're just going together as friends,' Aram said hesitantly, knowing exactly what she was thinking. He was worried about the same dilemma too.
'You think people would believe that?' She asked cautiously. Aram bit his lip; he was equally skeptical.
'Some people go as friends, so... I guess so?' Samar narrowed her eyes, not sure whether Aram was trying to convince her, or himself, but nonetheless intrigued by the idea all the same. 
'Ok, say I go... A week isn't much notice.'
'I know,' he confessed, 'I'm sorry... I got a little distracted by the caseload, and then for a moment there I didn't think I'd even be able to go, so...' Aram bowed his head, slightly dejected, 'you don't have to come, if it's too short notice. I just thought I'd ask.' Samar let out a tiny, soft smile. 
'No, I'll come. But first, we need to find you a new shirt and tie.'

/*/*/*/*

With a new shirt picked out, the next step was to find a tie to go with it. Samar gazed at the wide selection of fabrics and colours displayed along the far wall of the shop, all sorted by colour, flabbergasted by all the options. Aram ducked straight to the purple ones, as per usual, but Samar reached for his arm to stop him. 
'Don't you have enough purple ties?' She asked quizzically. Purple and red seemed to be the only colour ties he ever wore to work, and this was supposed to be for a different occasion entirely. Aram paused, considering the question. He did have quite a few purple ties. It wasn't that he objected to any other colour, simply that he didn't want to spend forever thinking about his tie choices, and he knew purple suited him –or at least, that was what some salesperson had told him one time, years ago- so, that was what he stuck to. But... Maybe it would be good to try something else for once. And , he spied the thoughtful expression on Samar's face, the dark blues seemed to have captured her attention for some reason. He glanced along the wall at all the other colours before turning back to Samar, a small grin starting to creep across his face. 
'What did you have in mind?' Samar's hand reached out, running along the dark blue ties, feeling all the different fabrics. Some were softer, some were shinier, some were silkier, and some were heavier than others. She hadn't thought there would be so many choices for ties; it was almost as intense as choosing a whole dress. But ... She lingered on a solid, midnight-blue tie with faint silver dots threaded through it... That tie matched one of the many gorgeous dresses in the back of her wardrobe that she only rarely got the chance to wear. She frowned for a second; were ties and dresses supposed to match if they were going to a wedding? Samar wasn't sure on what the exact dressing etiquette was for going to an event like that, with a date. If anything, it seemed to scream that there were a couple, and if they were trying to keep things quiet... She let out a small sigh and figured, why not just do it? It was by far, one of the nicest ties on the wall. 
'How about this one?' Samar suggested, suddenly cautious as she held it up for Aram to see. What if he hated it? Instead, Aram's eyes lit up enthusiastically.
'I like it,' he said, nodding eagerly, and Samar bit her lip in sudden embarrassment at just how pleased she was. 'You know, I think there's a pocket square around here somewhere that matches that tie,' Aram quickly added, taking the tie from her hands and ducking behind one of the many pocket square stands to check. He wasn't sure what it was about that tie specifically, that had Samar so taken with it; he was too busy being completely chuffed that she had picked one out for him at all –and quite a nice one, at that. But he did recognise the same expression that crossed her face any time things became just a little too sentimental for her, which was why he quickly ducked away; to give her a moment to recover her usual stoicism. 'Oh, I found it!' He called out after a minute or two, and Samar reappeared beside him from the other side of the stand to take a look. She nodded approvingly as she glanced at what it looked like when held up against the tie, and Aram hurried over to the counter to pay for them; the last few items from the whole list they had worked through. Finally, they could go home.           

'So... What are you going to wear to this thing?' He asked casually, as they walked out of the store –the glee on his face anything but casual. Samar rolled her eyes and swatted his shoulder in mock exasperation. 
'Wait and see.'

Chapter Text

The knock on the front door made Samar jump and catch her finger on her hair straightener. With a small hiss, she recoiled and put the straightener back down on the bathroom counter, before turning to walk out of the room and answer the door. Aram had said he would arrive early to pick her up on the way to his friend's wedding, but not this early. Samar grumbled to herself about Aram and his never-ceasing punctuality as she opened the door, and-

Whoa.

Aram looked back at her, his face just as stunned as hers. Samar looked him up and down, a small smile tugging at her lips. Of course, she saw him in a suit every day at work, but this was a whole different level of sharp. Besides the matching midnight blue tie and pocket square that she had helped him pick out a week earlier, Aram had also added a waistcoat to his usual black suit and crisp, white shirt ensemble. Samar wondered if that had anything to do with Reddington's influence, then dismissed the thought entirely. It didn't matter. The most important part was that Aram looked very stylish indeed. Except perhaps, for the goofy grin on his face as he looked back at her.  

But that was because she looked absolutely stunning.  

Though the dark blue looked good on him, he usually stuck to shades of purple and red for his work ties. But he understood now, why she had picked out such a specific colour of tie for him; it matched her dress perfectly. It was a knee length, pencil dress with a wrap around bodice that crossed over at the otherwise open back, and was embellished with a band of silver beads and rhinestones around the waistline at the front. Not that Aram knew all the terminology; as far he knew, it was a dark blue dress with sparkly things stuck to it, that she was wearing with strappy, silver heels. It was actually a fairly similar style to what she wore in Dubai a few weeks earlier, aside from the fact that her makeup wasn't quite as heavy this time, and this particular dress stopped at the shoulders instead of going on to cover her arms... But Aram didn't need to know all that either.
'You're early!' Samar managed to come to her senses a few short seconds before Aram did.
'Oh... Am I?' He looked at his watch. Yep, he was definitely earlier than he said he would be. Samar gestured quickly for him to come in so that she could close the door, run back to the bathroom and finish doing her hair. Aram followed, though not really sure if he should or shouldn't. Samar picked up her hair straightener again without saying anything either way. Despite how awkward she had felt about dressing up for her assignment in Dubai, she couldn't deny that she liked the look. It was what the look was for , that had bothered her. But she had no such qualms about tonight's particular occasion, nor did she often have the time to do anything more than a ponytail with her hair, so she had decided that this was a perfect opportunity to mix things up.  

But she still had to untangle... Just... One... Last... Bit...

Aram just stood in the doorway and watched as Samar -with gritted teeth- worked her fingers through the last section of her hair to untangle it, before finally running it through the hair straightener. Wait... Was that the right word? Aram wasn't really sure. To be honest, he wasn't really sure how the process worked at all -well, aside from the part about the hair straightener being hot, so he figured it must be vaguely like a clothes iron, but for hair. One minute, Samar's hair was curly, then it was straight, then she twirled it around the straightener and pulled it out again, only for it to come out... Wavy-ish? The point was, it looked complicated... And frustrating.  

And if the look on Samar's face in the mirror was anything to go by, that's exactly what it was.  

'Uhh... Not that I don’t think you look great, but... Why are you doing that if it's so difficult?' He asked cautiously. Samar turned off the straightener without a word, then pulled her hair over to one side so that it all flowed over one shoulder, and slipped in a pin at the back, just above her neck, to hold it in place. The upper layers of her hair sat just above it, hiding the pin from view entirely. Huh, Aram grinned, that was actually pretty clever! 
'Because...' A wry smile crossed her face, 'it looks good.' Aram had to agree. His face lit up as she turned around, finally allowing Aram to see what it looked like from the front. He had to admit; she really did look amazing. 
'Wow...!' It was the only word Aram could muster. Samar ducked her head in a sudden and fleeting moment of uncharacteristic embarrassment. As confident as she always was in knowing she looked good, having someone actually tell her so was far less common. Aram tried not to grin; it wasn't that often he saw Samar caught off guard. 'You ready to go?' He asked casually, not wanting to push her too far by making any more of a fuss. 
'Uh, just a second,' she ducked out of the bathroom and back into the living room to grab her purse. Aram followed again, though not so close behind this time. Another odd expression had just crossed Samar's face that he couldn't identify, but he was sure from how quickly she left the room that he wasn't supposed to have caught it at all. Samar toyed with the clip on her purse, looking for any possible way to delay leaving for just a few more minutes. Seeing Aram's reaction to her just now had triggered another uncharacteristic feeling; she was nervous! This was the first time they were going out as a couple where they would be faced with people they, or at least Aram, knew, knowing they were there together. It had a very 'official' feeling to it, and that was nerve-wracking. Samar wasn't sure if she was ready for such a scenario; being publicly open about a relationship was fairly unfamiliar territory for her. Aram's hand brushed against her back as he appeared beside her again, making her jump. Samar glanced at him, seeing only curiosity and mild concern on his face. She exhaled lightly;
'Ok, let's go,' she said, a slight determined edge to her voice. Aram gave her a gentle smile as she reached for her keys to lock the front door behind them when they walked out. Aram knew that Samar would talk to him about the things that bugged her if she felt she needed to, but in the meantime she had clearly decided that she could deal with whatever this issue was, on her own. That said, he rested his hand on the small of her back and rubbed a few gentle circles with his thumb anyway as Samar locked the door, just so that she knew he understood, despite the silence.  

/*/*/*/*

Two glasses of wine and a tasty meal later, Samar was definitely more relaxed. They were seated at a table with Aram's friends from his old NSA unit, none of whom had even the slightest connection back to Mossad or the FBI -aside from Aram of course. They were complete strangers for Samar so as far as they were concerned, she was just Aram's 'friend' and they had no reason to ask, or make a fuss of any idea to the contrary.  

Or rather, they spotted Samar's tensed shoulders and Aram's protective arm around her earlier in the evening and understood not to ask.

But now they were all laughing, chatting and just generally enjoying the music as well as each other's company, though as more and more people finished their meals and headed to the dancefloor, Samar and Aram were eventually left the only two at the table. Aram nudged Samar's shoulder. 
'Do you want to dance?' He asked. Samar bit her lip hesitantly, looked out at the dancefloor, then back to Aram and the goofy grin that he was trying -and failing- not to let out. Over the last couple of hours she had resigned herself to the fact that Aram had picked up on her hesitations even though she was trying not to let them show, but to his credit he hadn't said anything or tried to convince her to talk more. Instead, he had just stuck by her side, squeezing her hand or putting his arm around her where necessary. He understood exactly what was going through her mind, and knew she would talk about things when she wanted to, so long as he was there for when she needed him.

He was sweet like that.

But there was no denying the fact he also liked to dance; Samar had noticed his feet tapping the floor to the music under the table. It was quite amusing, really. And dancing was fun. 
'Alright,' she sighed, with a slight hint of amusement. Aram jumped up and grabbed both of her hands, pulling her out of the chair and walking backwards, leading her to the dancefloor. His whole face was lit up by his enthusiastic grin, and it was hard not to laugh. Samar smiled finally, as she settled into his arms and started moving to the music, and she laughed outright when he spun her around - the enthusiasm really was contagious.  

After about five or six songs, they were still dancing, albeit slower. It was probably the longest Aram had seen Samar smile all night without interruption. He pulled her in closer and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. Samar sighed in contentment... Perhaps she shouldn't have stressed about this evening so much after all... Aram spun her around again, and-

Oomph!

Samar bumped into someone's side.
'Oh! Sorry!' She gasped, turning to see whomever it was she had just nearly bowled over. The tall, strawberry blond man turned right at the same time, and Samar gasped for a second time when she realised who it was. 'Ressler!?'
'Samar!' Ressler exclaimed. 'What are you doing here?' Samar paused for a second, unsure how to answer. 
'Uh, Aram asked me to come with him.' The truth was probably better, so long as she didn't go into too much detail. Though, speaking of Aram... Where did he disappear to? Samar looked around, trying to spot him in the crowd. Aha! In the kerfuffle, he'd gotten caught between another group of people. Aram pushed past them quickly, having spotted Ressler when Samar bumped into him, and returned to her side -though he was careful to keep his arms to himself this time. 
'Hey Ressler!' He beamed, probably a little too cheerfully. 'What are you doing here?'
'The bride is an old friend,' Ressler mused. He could understand Aram being here, in fact, he had wondered if they would see each other, because he knew the groom worked in the same NSA unit that Aram worked for before making the move to the FBI, but he hadn't had time to ask; being dragged by Reddington off to Germany to look for Tom Keen had thrown a spanner in the works for most of his plans that week. Seeing Samar here as well was an interesting surprise, though the more he thought about it, the more it did make sense; people were expected to bring dates to weddings, and friends were perfectly acceptable candidates. And really, how many female friends did Aram have? At the taskforce he was mostly limited to Liz and Samar, and it was widely known that Aram and Samar had become good friends since her arrival at the Post Office. Plus, Liz was fairly preoccupied with her own problems at the moment. Though, from looking at the expressions on both of their faces, Ressler started to wonder if Aram and Samar were perhaps closer than people thought. Aram looked slightly guilty, and Samar looked... Worried?  Ressler couldn't quite describe the look on her face.

But the point was; people didn't look like that unless they thought they'd been caught doing something they thought they shouldn't be doing.  

All Samar could do was hope Ressler hadn't seen Aram kiss her forehead five minutes earlier. He probably hadn't, Ressler did have his back turned to them before she bumped into him. But Aram was shifting on his feet; something he only did when he felt either guilty or really nervous about something, and Samar knew that Ressler knew that just as well as she did. So long as Ressler either believed they were just there as friends, or at the very least, had nothing to prove any suspicions to the contrary, they would be ok.  

But Aram had to stop twitching!

Ressler struggled not to smirk. He had only been teasing Aram a few weeks earlier about possibly having a girlfriend. It wasn't like Ressler had any real reason to suspect that the girlfriend in question was Samar; it was quite possible that Aram just looked uncomfortable because he didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea. And really, Ressler was tired. He was there to see his friend get married, not deal with anything work related- especially not the extremely slim possibility that two of his co-workers were closer than they should be. It wasn't like he had seen either of them display any kind of inappropriate behaviour at work, after all. Though, Ressler recalled Aram's reaction after he and Samar came back from the blacksite overtaken by Luther Braxton, that hug wasn't entirely appropriate, but it was pretty normal for Aram. With that in mind, Ressler decided not to press the issue.
'Well, it's nice seeing you, but uh... I should probably go congratulate the bride,' he said. Of course, Ressler had already done that, but it was the easiest way to ease the awkwardness of the situation the three of them now found themselves in.  

Aram gave him a small wave as Ressler walked away, before exchanging an awkward glance with Samar. She exhaled slowly. That was close!

Aram took her in his arms again -which in this case was entirely appropriate seeing as they were on a dancefloor- and started to dance again. There was nothing that either of them could do now, other than continue to enjoy the night, and try to avoid any further instances of Ressler possibly discovering the truth.  

But for now, they could go back to dancing.

Chapter Text

Aram wandered down the baking aisle of his local supermarket, pulling the recipe he'd printed earlier out of his pocket as he went. He looked down the aisle, and stopped suddenly at the sight of all the different things on the shelves. He really wasn't a 'baking' kind of guy, but when he realised that Liz's birthday was tomorrow, he decided that he should make an effort to celebrate it. Her life over the last year or so had been quite the rollercoaster, so Aram had figured 'what the hell', if Liz could get through all that, he could manage to make some cupcakes. But, as he gazed down the aisle at all the different products that he'd never heard of before, maybe he'd been a bit too optimistic. Aram looked down at the ingredient list and read it over properly for the first time. He had googled red velvet cupcake recipes earlier and printed off the first one he found without really reading it over at the time. But... What the hell was 'baking soda'? Aram frowned in confusion. It was possible that he may need some help after all.

With a small huff of annoyance, Aram pulled out his phone and dialled Samar.

'Hello?' She answered groggily. Crap. Aram also may have forgotten that it was in fact, quite early in the morning. Clearly, Samar was enjoying a rare Sunday morning sleep-in.
'It's just me,' he said gently. 'Did I wake you?' Samar grumbled something unintelligible through the phone that Aram took to mean yes, he had woken her. Oops.
'Do I need to come into the office?' Samar mumbled, still half-asleep.
'Oh! No, not at all,' Aram began, 'but I do need some help.'
'What's wrong?' Samar's voice came hurriedly through the phone line, now fully alert. Aram rolled his eyes good naturedly. Of course, Samar would assume that if he needed help, then there must be something serious going on.
'Nothing life or death, don't worry,' Aram heard a sigh of relief through the phone before he continued, 'but do you know what baking soda is?' Samar took a second to answer, as she tried to figure out what on earth Aram needed baking soda for right at that moment.
'Uhh... Yes. I do know what baking soda is. Why do you ask?' She was curious as to where this was going now. Aram quickly explained the situation, then waited for her to stop laughing at him. 'Ok...' She started, still chuckling slightly, 'don't worry about knowing exactly what the ingredients are. Just go up and down the aisles and get everything the recipe calls for. If it says vanilla extract, find the product labelled exactly that. Then once you're done, just bring everything to my place.'
'Uhh... Your place?' Aram asked curiously. The rest of those instructions were perfectly logical, but that last one was an interesting surprise.
'If you don't know what baking soda is, how do you expect to actually make the cupcakes? If you come here, I'll help.' Matter-of-factly, of course. Aram raised an eyebrow. Well, that certainly did make sense, but...
'You don't have to do that. You know that, right?' This was what he wanted to do for Liz, so Samar certainly didn't have to practically do it for him if she didn't want to.
'It's ok. Actually, I haven't done any baking in quite a while, but I do enjoy it from time to time.' Aram grinned at that particular little gem of information. Who ever would have thought that Samar, with all her tough, scary exterior, would love baking?
'Alright then, see you soon?' He asked, trying to hide all amusement from his voice.
'Yep!' And with that last little chirp, they both hung up the phone. Aram looked at the shelf closest to him. Ah, cocoa powder! That was on his list. He pulled one of the boxes off the shelf and put it in his basket. Well, that was one ingredient down already... Maybe the rest wouldn't be so difficult to find after all.

Samar, meanwhile, tossed her phone back onto her nightstand, before kicking off the bedcovers and slowly climbing out of bed. She estimated that she had about forty five minutes or so before Aram arrived. Hmm... That might just be enough time to shower, get dressed and have coffee...

/*/*/*/*

It turned out to be nearly enough time. Samar opened the front door with half of her coffee still in hand. But Aram's face changed from his usual cheerful smile to a look of surprise, albeit pleasant surprise, as he took in her appearance.

She was wearing a long, oversized t-shirt... But no pants.

'Uhh...' Aram wasn't really sure how to respond to that particular kind of front door greeting. Samar looked down and grinned as she realised what he was reacting to. With a small laugh, she grabbed his arm and dragged him inside, closing the door behind him. 'You know, if my coming here to bake has gotten in the way of your morning or something...' Aram began as he finally regained the ability to speak, 'you didn't have to let me come over...' By this of course he meant something along the lines of 'Did you not have time to get dressed?' but of course, he wasn't going to ask that.
'Aram, you've seen my legs before,' she said amusedly. Aram's brow furrowed for a moment. Well, it was true. Of course, he had seen her bare legs before, she had worn a dress to that wedding they went to the other week. Normally though, he knew she preferred her skinny jeans. That said, they were a couple after all, so that was far from the only time he had seen her legs uncovered. But it was usually only ever when they were either going to bed, or getting out of bed that he saw them. Or of course, when they were actually in bed. Or... In the shower. And then of course, there was that morning where she had stolen his t-shirt... Ok, perhaps it was a far more common occurrence than he had first thought...

But that was beside the point.

Aram shook his head to try and stop its continuing wanderings down that particular path, as he watched Samar take one of the bags of groceries out of his hand and start laying out all the ingredients on the kitchen counter. Aram slowly began to do the same with the second bag, still unsure what to make of her total contentedness at randomly walking around only half-dressed when not in the process of actually continuing to get dressed.. In no way did that mean he didn't appreciate the view. In fact, Aram really did like the view... A lot. But he was wary of the fact that Samar didn't usually wander around, or answer the front door, with no pants on, and he was far too conscious of the fact that she did usually enjoy teasing him. Samar raised an amused eyebrow at his antics; he was very specifically -though unsuccessfully- trying to look like he wasn't looking.

It was sweet.

'You're not in my way at all,' she said nonchalantly. Aram raised an eyebrow and Samar just laughed. 'Aram, it's just us here. And it's Spring now, so it's starting to get warmer. I often walk around home with no pants on if it's warm, it's just more comfortable that way.' Aram let a small grin creep across his face as Samar turned to open one of the cupboards and pull out some mixing bowls. That logic did make sense. And really, the shirt was nearly as long as a short sundress.

But more than anything; so long as Samar was comfortable, Aram was happy.

Samar continued pulling things out of the cupboards and setting them down on the counter; cupcake tins, an electric mixer, measuring cups, and so on. Aram watched curiously as she set everything out in what seemed to be some kind of specific order -Aram assumed it was the order in which he would inevitably end up using each item- before suddenly recalling what she had said to him the first time he ever set foot in her kitchen.
'I thought you only kept the absolute essentials in your apartment?' He asked. She hadn't bought any kitchen gear when they went shopping a few weeks earlier, and he was fairly certain she hadn't been shopping since –other than for groceries. Samar placed the last item; a whisk, on the counter and looked back at him.
'Are the tools required for baking not essentials?' She asked quizzically.
'I thought 'essentials' just meant plates, bowls, glasses and cutlery.'
'How would I make pancakes without a pan?' Aram thought about that for a second. It was a good point... Pancakes were an essential breakfast dish. He tipped his head to her in recognition of such, making her laugh. 'Ok, the oven is on. Now you can start mixing.' And with that remark, she jumped up and sat on the other end of the counter, dangling her legs off the edge. Aram glanced warily at everything she had laid out on the counter.
'I thought you were going to help?' He asked incredulously. Samar swatted him across the shoulder.
'I am helping! I'll tell you how to do things, and then you can do them.' Samar rolled her eyes... Wasn't that obvious? 'The first instruction is to whisk together the cocoa, flour and salt,' Samar pointed at those three particular ingredients sitting right next to a mixing bowl, measuring cups, and of course; the whisk, 'so, do that.' Aram glanced at the mischievous look on her face, before turning back to the mixing bowl. Now it made sense; her 'helping' him was going to involve a certain degree of torture. Though, he looked at the recipe again, the instructions were fairly self-explanatory. Clearly his earlier panic at not knowing what baking soda was, had caused him to miss that particular fact. So now of course, Samar was going to have her fun with the whole situation.

/*/*/*/*

It didn't take too long to mix everything together and spoon it into the cupcake tins, and aside from some red splatter over the counter that had happened when Aram turned the electric mixer on too fast, too soon, it hadn't gone too badly either. Samar of course, forgave him for the splatter so long as he promised to both clean it up, and let her have the beaters once he was done with the mixer. Aram on the other hand, in a tough round of negotiations, demanded a compromise that would see Samar only have one beater.

The mixture just looked so good, and Aram wanted some too!

With all that out of the way though, all that was left to do was to put the cupcake trays in the oven.
'How long do they need to cook for?' He asked, putting the last tray in and closing the oven door.
'Probably around twenty minutes,' Samar responded, absentmindedly swinging her legs back and forth as she said it. Aram had noticed that she did that from time to time while she guided him through the baking process. He added it to his unwritten list of hilariously and unexpectedly adorable habits Samar had when she wasn't otherwise busy kicking down doors and shooting bad guys. Aram took the two steps from the oven back towards the counter Samar was sitting on and reached forward to brush that forever frustrating loose strand of hair out of her eyes.
'Do we make the frosting now, while we wait?'
'No,' she leaned her head slightly against his hand and shot him a small smile, 'we make the frosting when we take the cupcakes out of the oven and wait for them to cool. You can't put the frosting on while they're still warm, it'll melt.' Aram rested one hand on Samar's knee and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to her lips.
'Then what do we do for twenty minutes while we wait?' He whispered. Samar slid her arms over his shoulders and pulled him in for another kiss; a longer one this time. Aram slipped his arms under the bottom of her shirt and wrapped them around her around her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin as he pulled her in as close to him as possible. Samar sighed in contentment as he pressed another kiss to her neck.
'I might have an idea,' she whispered back. Aram grinned, he knew exactly what she was thinking.

And he was quite happy with that idea.

Chapter Text

Samar winced in pain as she swung her legs out of bed ready to get up and paused, staring blankly at the offending ankle; it was swollen, with faint purple bruising starting to show. She furrowed her brow in frustration and growled under her breath; she had rolled the ankle the evening before while out for a run, but she hadn't thought it would hurt for more than a couple of hours so after icing it for a while, she eventually went to bed, expecting that it would be fine in the morning.

But apparently, that wasn't the case.  

It wasn't the first time Samar had sprained her ankle while running and it probably wouldn't be the last, but the occasions tended to be few and far between, and this one was probably the worst sprain she'd had in a while. She stood slowly, placing the majority of her weight on her other leg, then gingerly shifting it to see just how bad the pain was. She could stand on it –just. She cursed her luck, knowing too well that even an ankle sprain was grounds enough for her to be pulled from field work if it meant she had trouble walking. Samar forced herself to keep moving, frustratedly willing her ankle to be fine so she could work as normal, and went about getting ready for work as she usually did in the morning. After showering and getting dressed, she dug through the bathroom cupboard for the sports tape she normally used to strap various injuries, and pulled it just tight enough around her swollen ankle to support it without cutting off the blood flow. With that out of the way, and the rest of the roll of tape shoved deep into her jeans pocket; Samar pulled the bunched up leg of her jeans back down so that it covered the tape, and slowly stood up again. With the support of the strapping, it didn't hurt anywhere near as much to walk around –which really, was saying something, considering that previously it had hurt so much that she could only just walk on it.  

But now, even though it was still painful, she could at least walk around in a way that looked normal.  

And on top of that, her jeans and boots hid the strapping and swelling from view entirely. Suddenly pleased with herself, Samar ambled around her apartment wondering what to do next; she had woken up early enough to go for a run before work but with that no longer an option, she had an extra hour on her hands before she had to leave. Samar furrowed her brow curiously as she wandered back into the bathroom, and spotted her hair straightener still sitting on the counter from where she'd left it two weeks earlier without bothering to put it away. She did like doing her hair differently every once in a while, but she so rarely had the time. Plus... Samar smirked as she flashed back to Aram's face when she did her hair for the wedding they attended those two weeks earlier... Perhaps if she turned up to work with her hair done differently, it would detract from any attention that could otherwise be directed at her ankle. Samar's smirk crumpled into a frown; no, that was silly. Or at least, it seemed silly. With a small sigh, she decided 'what the hell', and flicked on the power switch on the hair straightener; just because it was silly, why should that mean it might not be effective?  

/*/*/*/*

Samar paused behind the concrete columns as she re-entered the Post Office after interviewing Salinger's wife. Cooper was in a meeting, and Liz and Ressler were still busy interviewing one of the supposed fraudsters at the prison, so with the war room mostly empty, now was as good a moment as any to take a few seconds to shift her weight onto her good ankle, and let the injured one rest. So far, she had managed to walk normally enough that nobody had picked up on the fact searing pain shot through her leg every time she took a step or at least if they had, nobody had said anything -either way, Samar felt a certain, stubborn sense of pride. And to top it off, Aram had indeed been too preoccupied with complimenting her hair, to notice the way she had leaned against break room wall instead of standing upright when they had their morning coffees. Now, if she could just keep this up for another day or two, she would be back to normal and the rest of the team would be none the wiser. 
'Uhhh... Are you ok?' A familiar voice sounded from behind her. Samar winced in pain as she instinctively spun around on the spot to see Aram standing there, having just walked past on the way to his workstation from the copy room. Damn. Samar hadn't thought she'd be spotted if she paused for just a few seconds. 
'I'm fine,' she chirped, a little too happily, 'I was just thinking for a second.' Aram frowned in concern, sensing something off but not quite able to figure out what it was just from staring at her. 
'Thinking about what?' He asked quizzically.
'Uh, nothing in particular.'
'You don't look fine,'
'How so?' Samar asked, with a touch of exasperation. Aram looked her up and down; she didn't look sick, or even tired for that matter. But there was something about her voice, and the way she seemed so determined to get past the issue, that only convinced Aram further of the idea that she was hiding something. 
'Not sure...' He trailed off, puzzled. 
'Well, there you go. I'm fine.'
'Alright, well...' He gestured vaguely in the direction of the war room, 'back to work then.' Aram took a step to one side, as if waiting for Samar to lead the way back past the columns. Samar hesitated, then took the painful first step back onto her sprained ankle –but Aram caught the pause, the slowness with which she took the step, and the relative speed with which she took the second step back onto her uninjured foot. He reached out for her arm as he made the connection, stopping her again beside the column. 'What have you done to your foot?' He asked quietly. Samar let out a small sigh of defeat. She knew he was only asking because he cared, but it was such a minor injury compared to others she had suffered in the line of duty; Samar didn't even want to devote all that much attention to it, she simply wanted to just get through the next day or two as normally as possible.

Not to mention; she really, really hated being banned from field work.  

'Nothing. I sprained my ankle running last night. It's fine.' Aram dropped his gaze to observe her ankle, concern still  lingering on his face.
'It's not fine. Samar, if you're having trouble walking-'
'-I'm not,' she took a few steps to walk a small circle around him. The pain seared through her ankle again at the sharp turn, but she pushed through it, before looking at him pointedly; 'see?' Aram wasn't convinced, but it was pointless to argue with her. 
'Ok, you're fine,' he said reluctantly, before adding one final, more emphatic clause; 'but, rest it where you can, or you'll make it worse.'

/*/*/*/*

'Samar, if you sustain an injury that could restrict your ability in the field, you're supposed to report it. I can't allow you in the field if you can't run,' Cooper's voice rang in Samar's ears. She gritted her teeth, knowing that Cooper wouldn't have even noticed her ankle if he hadn't come straight down the stairs to overhear Aram tell her to sit instead of stand around his workstation -all of five minutes after she had told him behind the columns that she was fine . 
'You didn't pull me from the field when I was shot in the leg during the Luther Braxton case,' she protested. 
'That was a much higher priority case, and every agent on the team was affected somehow. But in this case, you're the only one injured and we're not under attack. Stay out of the field for a couple of days, until it's healed.' His tone wasn't angry, but it was firm, and final. He looked back at her silently for another second or two after he finished speaking, one eyebrow raised emphatically just to further the point that it was an order he expected her to follow, before turning and heading back towards his office. Samar shook her head in frustration at Aram as Cooper walked away, before moving back toward her desk and sitting down with her back to him. Sure, her ankle hurt when she moved, but she was still physically capable of moving-and really, what was she supposed to do while confined to desk duty? Their case had only just started, so who knew where it would go.  

Aram watched on with a touch of guilt, as she started reluctantly shuffling through the files on her desk. He knew all too well that while Samar was content to work in the war room if there was nothing much for her to do in the field, being forced to stay there was something she hated with a passion almost as hot as a blue flame. For one, she didn't like being told she couldn't do something and secondly; when there was field work to be done, she wanted to get in there and get it done. Otherwise, she felt restless and to a certain extent, even useless -and that was what really irked her. Aram let out a small sigh as he decided to just get back to his own task at hand and let her fume for a while instead of pushing the issue further. He knew Samar was annoyed at him for accidentally letting it slip, but the reality was; he hadn't done it on purpose, and if her stubbornness made the injury worse, she would have to be pulled from the field for even longer.  

And none of them needed that to happen.  

/*/*/*/*

'Hey,' Aram began nervously, as he approached Samar's desk. The look of thunder had disappeared from her face fairly soon after Cooper pulled her from the field a day earlier, and they had managed to work together in the war room well enough, but Samar had been exceptionally quiet when Ressler went to Vanessa Cruz's mailing address without her, and she certainly hadn't spent half the time hanging around Aram's desk as she normally would have. Plus, out of sheer protest at being pulled from field duty, she had opted to stand instead of sit as much as she could during team discussions. On the other hand, she had seemed to take a fascination with the shelf corporations while desk bound, and Aram had successfully managed to distract himself with Osborne and his fingerprint wizardry, but all that could only last so long.

And now Aram wasn't sure where exactly they stood with one another.  

Samar looked up from her desk and caught his eye before he bowed his head anxiously, instantly feeling guilty at just how annoyed she had initially been at him. 'Uh, I was thinking about leaving now...' He hesitated, shifting uneasily on his feet before looking up again, 'are we ok?' The annoyance on Samar's face suddenly faded, as she realised just how concerned Aram seemed to be that she was upset at him. Aside from the initial frustration at the fact that his fussing had lead to Cooper pulling her out of the field, she wasn't really annoyed at Aram at all. What annoyed her was not being able to do her job the way she was used to, and so out of general frustration she had pulled away from the others whenever she could, simply to work by herself away from the view of those who were prone to constantly checking on her. But of course, Aram had seen her upset and straight away assumed that the bulk of it was directed at him.  

Yet in reality, she was glad in hindsight that she hadn't had to chase Vanessa Cruz through the hotel with Liz and Ressler.  

Samar let out a short nod to reassure him.
'We're ok,' she observed. Aram exhaled in relief. 
'Do you want to get dinner?' Now that he was sure she wasn't still annoyed at him, Aram wanted to get things back on track –and more importantly, discreetly make sure Samar rested her ankle properly. But, he was torn over what approach to use. Takeout and movies was one he used too regularly, and after the last couple of days, Samar would know exactly what he was doing if he suggested it again. Samar gave a wry smile.
'How about I make dinner?' Aram raised an eyebrow in amusement; that was both a peace offering, and a subtle protest against what she clearly knew he was trying to do. 
'Counter-offer,' he began, trying to not grin, 'what if I make dinner, while you sit on the counter and roll your eyes at me again?' If it worked for making cupcakes, Aram figured it could surely work for dinner too. Samar narrowed her eyes, for once unable to outdo him. 
'Well,' she teased, standing up from her chair and reaching for her bag, 'how am I supposed to refuse an offer like that?'

Chapter Text

The sound of the phone ringing out and going to voicemail blasted in Samar's ear for the third time that morning. She hung up the phone without leaving a message; the first one she left was enough. That said, now she was starting to worry. Aram was supposed to have arrived a little over two hours ago for breakfast -right before she left the first message- but he hadn't shown. She wracked her brain for what felt like the millionth time, trying to remember if they had changed the date, or if she had done anything to seriously offend him, but nothing came to mind. Aram was quite simply, missing -and not answering his phone. Samar paced back and forth through her living room, wondering if going to his apartment after only two hours was too dramatic. It certainly wasn't normal for Aram not to turn up, or not answer his phone. And in contrast to Aram's optimism, Samar was the field agent -prone to assuming that such disappearances meant the worst possible scenario was probably true. 

Well, that made the decision for her.  

Samar picked up her purse and her keys, and strode out of her apartment.  

/*/*/*/*

The knock on Aram's front door received no response. Samar took out her phone and dialled Aram again, pressing her ear against the door to see if she could hear it ringing inside, but all she could hear was the sound of the television on low volume. Huh... That was odd.  She knocked on the door again.

Still no response.  

Samar sighed. There could of course be a perfectly reasonable explanation for it all, but there could also be something more sinister happening and frankly, pursuing the former wasn't exactly proving fruitful. She dug through her purse, pulling out a few trusty, old tools, then stooped to pick the lock on the door. It didn't take long to get the door open; Samar made a mental note to talk to Aram about improving his home security, then cautiously stepped inside the apartment. She looked around slowly; nothing potentially threatening jumped out at her...

But where was Aram?

Samar moved towards the living room, and her eyes widened in concern. There was Aram, unconscious and sprawled out half across the couch, and half on the floor. 
'Aram!' She gasped, dashing wildly across the room and crouching beside him. He was warmer than usual, but he was breathing and his pulse was normal... So what the hell was going on? Samar gently shook his shoulder.
'Argh!' Aram yelled, waking suddenly and sitting up, making Samar jump. He looked at her groggily for a second, before his eyes snapped wide in alarm. 'Oh, breakfast!' He exclaimed. Samar raised an eyebrow. 'Wait, did I pass out?' 
'You're asking me?' She shot back in exasperation, before realising that she probably sounded a little more harsh than necessary. Aram yawned. He quite clearly had passed out. And, Samar noted now that her panic had eased off and she could properly take in his appearance, he was quite pale too. Aram had been battling a sore throat and a blocked nose for the last two days, but it hadn't seemed like anything more serious than a cold. 
'I just... Couldn't sleep last night,' he yawned again, 'It was too hard to breathe.' Samar grimaced; Aram had complained of the same problem yesterday too. If he'd gotten out of bed that exhausted again this morning, it was no wonder that he had passed out. She pressed her palm gently against his forehead, he really was warm. 
'Haven't you checked your temperature?' She asked, pulling her hand back again. 
'No... Do I need to?' Samar rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
'Did you have a chance to look in the mirror before you passed out? I think you have more than just a cold.'
'That bad, huh?' Samar nodded. With a small groan, Aram pushed himself up off the couch. Half the muscles in his body practically screamed in pain as he stood. 'Oh, you might have a point,' he said with a wince. He shuffled across to the bathroom, while Samar began to somewhat awkwardly, busy herself in the kitchen. Going into mushy, caretaker mode really wasn't her style, but she certainly wasn't going to just walk out and leave Aram when he was that sick either -he was already lucky enough that he passed out when he was sitting on the couch, rather than standing and hitting his head on something on the way down. Samar filled one of the water bottles from the cupboard and set it down on the little table by the couch; that way Aram could keep hydrated without either of them having to constantly refill glasses. 
'103,' Aram's voice called out. Samar bit her lip in concern. 103 wasn't quite a high enough temperature to warrant a trip to the emergency room, but it was definitely high enough to confirm her suspicions about Aram being more sick than first thought; fever and muscles aches weren't cold symptoms, but they were dead on for the flu. 'Uh, what are you doing?' He asked, re-entering the living area and spotting her in the kitchen. Samar just looked at him blankly and gestured to the toaster.
'Making toast,' she said pointedly, 'you need to eat something.' Aram watched from the couch as she silently took the toast from the toaster and buttered it. Was she trying to take care of him? Samar brought the plate over and handed it to him, before pointing at the water bottle. 'Make sure you drink that too,' she added. She turned abruptly on her heels, marched back to the kitchen, and started rifling through the cupboards again. Yep, Aram concluded, she was trying to take care of him. Despite how awful he felt, it was hard not to be amused. The water bottle was just so typical of Samar; thoughtful and smart, but also practical and sensible. She clearly cared, but it was her own unique way of approaching the task of looking after him that Aram found hilarious.  

A shiver brought his contemplation to a grinding halt, and Aram pulled down the blanket draped over the back of the couch to wrap it around himself. The sudden movement caught Samar's attention and she stopped pulling things out of the fridge for a moment to observe him. 
'You know you don't have to take care of me, right?' He chuckled. Samar rolled her eyes and went back to pulling things out of the fridge. 'Or... I guess I could just go back to my toast and leave you to it...' 
'Let's go with that option,' she huffed. There was no way that Samar was going anywhere. Aram was so exhausted that he could barely move and if the shiver was any indication, his temperature was probably still rising. He was going to be feeling far worse before the day was over.  

His current attempts to look cheerful weren't fooling her for a second.  

Aram finished off his toast, took a few sips of water, and twisted around on the couch to take a better look at what Samar was doing in the kitchen. It was painful to move that way, but he was curious as to what she was making. From behind the kitchen counter, Samar watched him looking at her, and a small smile crossed her face.
'Lentil soup,' she said, guessing what he was thinking, 'and tea.' She knew of course, that chicken soup was the usual thing to make when someone wasn't feeling well, but she had never really been convinced of its supposed medicinal benefits and frankly, lentil soup was just tastier. Plus, when combined with the tea, it was what she considered the ultimate comfort. It was what she always made for herself if she was sick, or if she’d had a rough day, and it always made her feel better. Aram's face lit up, not because he knew the significance of what she was making for him, but simply because it was sweet... And lentil soup was pretty delicious.  

/*/*/*/*

As predicted, Aram's condition continued to deteriorate as the day went on. By mid-afternoon almost all pretence of cheeriness had disappeared; he lay on the couch covered in blankets, and barely speaking. Eventually, Samar managed to convince him that he might be more comfortable if he went to bed and so off he trudged, shoulders slumped and with an expression of utter defeat on his face, as Samar tidied up the kitchen. Aram looking that miserable was a difficult sight to see, but for Samar the worst part was knowing that there really wasn't much more she could do to make him feel better.  

It didn't take Samar long to finish putting away the last few dishes. Unsure what to do next, she peeked her head around the bedroom door; unsurprisingly, Aram looked like he was already asleep. Another small smile tugged at her lips as she watched his chest rise and fall with each breath; Samar may not have been one to make a fuss, but she genuinely was relieved to see him finally getting some much-needed rest. She yawned while still standing there in the doorway; she had been so busy keeping an eye on Aram throughout the day that she hadn't paid much attention to herself, but now that he was resting, Samar's own tiredness hit her like a freight train. She glanced over her shoulder at the clock on the wall behind her; it was a little before four o'clock. There was time for a short nap before dinner, right? And considering how awful Aram was feeling, dinner was probably just going to be the soup leftover from lunch, so it wasn’t as if she had any preparation to do. With that decision made, she crawled into the bed, letting out a small sigh as she curled into Aram's side and closed her eyes. It was movement enough for him to stir, and shift his arm slightly so that she could be more comfortable. 
'Pretty sure I'm contagious, you know,' his voice whispered in her ear. Samar briefly contemplated opening her eyes again just so she could roll them at him. Really, if she was going to catch the flu from him, the damage was probably already done. 
'I'm sure I'll survive. Just go to sleep,' she grumbled back. Aram murmured something unintelligible in response, before going quiet again. The sound of his breathing slowed as he finally fell asleep.  

...And Samar's followed suit just a few minutes later.

Chapter Text

'Oomph!' Aram awoke with a jump when Samar kicked him in her sleep. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and rolled over to look at her. Samar was curled up with her face hidden behind her arms, occasionally mumbling and thrashing around at nothing in particular, before curling up again. Aram reached out and shook her shoulder, only to receive another kick to the shins for his trouble. He waited for her to stop kicking at the demons in her dreams before he reached out again.

'Samar,' he whispered, shaking her shoulder a little more forcefully this time. Her eyes flickered open, then closed again. 'Samar, wake up!' Her eyes opened again, and finally stayed open. She stared at him, in a daze for a second, before her eyes went wide and she buried her face in her hands. 
'Not again...' she muttered bitterly. Aram reached for her hands to gently pull them back off her face.
'Nightmare?' He asked quietly. Samar gritted her teeth.
'I said I'll always have the occasional one.' It was true, Aram remembered that conversation all too well, but he had never seen one of her nightmares actually happen before. It was scarier than he thought; Samar's whole body was shaking, her face was pale and her hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat. Aram stroked her cheek. He wanted to put his arms around her like he usually did, but her shoulders were still tensed and her breathing hadn't quite evened out again yet. She was still on edge, and he didn't want her to instinctively kick out again. 
'Was it about anything in particular?' Aram kept his voice low and his tone even to try and calm her. Samar shook her head.
'No, it was the same as it always is...' She trailed off. 'Lots of different things... What they'd look like if they went differently.' Samar cringed at the sympathetic look on Aram's face; did she just say too much? She wasn't used to someone else being there when she had one of her nightmares, and she wasn't sure how much she should talk about them.  
'What do you normally do to get past them?' Aram asked, his hand taking one of hers and gently relaxing the clenched fist she had formed by intertwining his fingers through hers. He didn't miss a beat. Samar just blinked at him. 
'Uhh, I walk around the living room for a minute or two and drink tea.' Aram tugged on her hand as he climbed out of bed, pulling her along with him.
'Come on then, let's walk and drink tea.'

/*/*/*/*

Samar wandered in circles around her living room a couple of times before finally stopping to look out the window at the sliver of night sky that she could see above the apartment buildings across the street from hers. Aram walked over from the kitchen with her tea and handed it to her while she watched the sky. It was a cloudless night, and even with only a fraction of the sky visible from that viewpoint, she could still see the stars twinkling. With both hands she took the mug and brought it to her face to inhale the aroma before taking a sip. Aram stood not quite by her side, but slightly behind her, working small circles with his thumbs against the backs of her shoulders to try and ease out the tension. Eventually she let out a small sigh and leaned back against him, and Aram's hands dropped to rest at her waist for a second before he wrapped his arms around her entirely, looking out at the night sky over her shoulder. 
'Just breathe,' he murmured. Samar took another sip of her tea before responding quietly;
'You're not panicking like you normally do.' 
'I only panic when you're hurt or in danger.'
'Worry, then. You're not worrying like you normally do.'
'I don't need to worry. You're ok, it's just a bad dream. I know, I've had them too.' Samar's eyes flickered sideways.
'After Anslo Garrick?' Samar hadn't joined them at the Post Office yet when Garrick infiltrated the site, but she'd heard enough since to know all about what happened. 
'Yeah,' Aram trailed off. It was the only way he could respond; there was nothing else to say about it, really. Samar had seen the FBI bravery award in his apartment that he'd received for his actions that day, so she knew what he had done. A moment of silence passed between them before Samar spoke again.
'People think Mossad agents are nothing more than stone cold killers,' a touch of bitterness crept into her voice again, 'but we're not. I'm not.' Aram glanced sideways in surprise.
'I know that,' he said quickly. 'Want to know how I know?'
'How?'
'You're one of the strongest people I know and yet, you still have nightmares. That doesn't make you weak, it makes you human.' Another brief moment of silence passed between them. 
'Thank you,' Samar finally whispered back.
'What for?' 
'Just for being you.' Aram wasn't quite sure what she meant by that, but decided simply to roll with it. He twisted slightly to kiss Samar's cheek, and she tiredly tipped her head sideways to lean against his; the pair of them still gazing half-heartedly out the window. Just Aram's presence, standing there in the window with her, was calming -but she wasn't quite ready to mention the other thing going through her mind; this nightmare was one of the worst she'd had in quite some time. Samar tried to think what could have triggered it; usually a rough case would do it, but they hadn't worked any cases recently that were any worse than usual. Only one thing came to mind; her panic during the morning that she found Aram passed out a week earlier. It had bothered her on and off for the last week or so; that she had panicked for the brief time she thought he might be in danger, when she normally chastised him for doing the same to her. But that morning had given her a new perspective; she understood now why he worried so much. If she worried that much when she found him passed out, how tough was it for him to see her go out into the field every day, not knowing if she would come back? That was what had her thinking about things past, and how they could have gone differently; how different life would be if a bullet had hit when it should have missed, or vice versa. Or anything else along those lines. Awake, Samar knew it was pointless to think like that, instead of moving forward like she normally did, but that couldn't stop her subconscious from taking the idea and running wild with it in her sleep. 
'You ready to go back to bed now?' Aram asked, interrupting her mind's anxious ramblings. Samar nodded, and leaned forward to close the curtains over the window again. Aram took the now empty mug from her hands and left it on the kitchen counter, before leading her back to the bedroom. They crawled into bed and Samar curled up against Aram's side as they both closed their eyes.
'I love you,' she murmured. Aram stopped running his fingers through her curly hair suddenly and pulled her in close, kissing the top of her head. Neither of them had said those words before; in fact, nearly six months had passed since Luther Braxton and his crew overran the classified blacksite in the middle of nowhere, but in that time they hadn't really discussed the ins and outs of their relationship. They weren't avoiding it; time had simply slipped away from them. But now seemed as good a time as any to finally exchange those three little words.
'I love you too,' he whispered back before finally, they both fell asleep again.

Chapter Text

The gentle breeze and the warmth from the sunlight danced across Aram's bare arms as he walked into the park. They had finally rescheduled their breakfast plans -but with a slight twist. The weather had been lovely the last few days; warm but not too hot, so instead of having breakfast at either of their apartments, Aram had opted to wander down to the park and meet Samar at the end of her morning run and then go to breakfast together at the diner across the street. She usually ran one of the trails through the park between their neighborhoods every weekend anyway, and the end of one of them was only a couple of blocks from Aram's apartment so it wasn't a particularly out of the way plan for either of them. Aram had even thought to bring a cold water bottle with him, knowing that Samar was always thirsty after a run but didn't tend to take one because she didn't like to carry it while she ran. He was so pleased with himself for thinking of it that he was still patting himself on the back internally as he walked over to an empty bench by one of the patches of trees.  

Now it was simply a question of waiting for her to appear, but as she had said on the phone; 'she'd get there when she got there'.

He only had to wait for about ten minutes before he spotted her running out from one of the trails at the other end of the park. Aram stood and waved to get her attention, and Samar spotted him instantly. She slowed to a jog and crossed the park to meet him, a tired but happy smile on her face and Major Lazer's 'Pon De Floor' still blasting from her iPod. But as she came closer, Aram furrowed his brow, looking first at her feet, then behind her and all around the park. Samar stopped smiling the same second she stopped running, and cast her gaze around the park as well, trying to figure out what he was looking at.
'Uh, hi?' She said, slightly confused and pulling out her earphones as she reached him. He met her gaze quickly, then looked back at the ground, pointing at her feet.
'I think you've made a friend,' he said with an amused smirk on his face. Samar glanced down at the ground, and then back up at Aram in surprise. There, sitting by her feet and looking up at her expectantly, was a tiny, chocolate brown, Labrador puppy. She twisted around on the spot, looking around the park to see if there was anyone else around that the puppy could belong to, but they were the only two there. 
'Was he following me?' She asked incredulously. Aram nodded as he held up the water bottle. Samar reached for it gratefully and took a few thirsty gulps. 
'Yeah, he was on your heels all the way over from the trail. You didn't notice?' Samar shook her head, still guzzling the water; she hadn't noticed the dog at all. It hadn't brushed against her at any point, and with her iPod on she hadn't heard the sound of tiny paws pattering against the dirt either. She frowned slightly. It was worrying to think the puppy could have followed her for that long without her realising. She never turned her music up too loud in case another person followed her or needed to get her attention; she knew better than that. But she hadn't thought leaving it at a lower volume would be an issue. She watched as Aram squatted down to offer his hand to the puppy to sniff. His fingers made a slight fist, tucked under his knuckles, in case the dog was unfriendly and decided to bite.  

But instead of leaning forward to sniff, the dog shied away from him and leaned in to the back of Samar's leg.  

Aram pulled back his hand, and the puppy stopped hiding; resuming its earlier position of looking up expectantly at Samar. 
'I don't think he likes you,' she teased. Aram glanced up at her, slightly disappointed. 
'He likes you though,' he observed. With a touch of hesitation, Samar sat down on the ground beside Aram and offered her own hand to the dog. It leaped forward, first to lick her fingers and then nuzzle against her arm, before laying down and resting its head against her knee, wagging its tail the entire time. Samar and Aram exchanged amused glances, not sure what they should do. There they were, sitting on the grass under the trees in the middle of the park, with a seemingly unaccompanied puppy not wanting to leave Samar's side. 
'This is ridiculous,' Samar scoffed, though still gently stroking the puppy's ears, 'he has to belong to someone else along the trail who just couldn't keep him on a lead.' Aram slowly reached for the dog's collar to check the tag. The pup whined at his touch, but didn't squirm away.  

'Jackson,' Aram read off the tag. The puppy sat up, recognising his own name. 'Hey, there's a phone number on the back.' Aram pulled out his phone and dialled the number, as Jackson jumped up to lick Samar's face. She leaned away to avoid the slobber and ended up falling backwards entirely and laying on the grass, laughing. The pup scampered around and put his two front paws on her belly, wanting to play, and Samar gently pushed him back. Jackson ran around to Samar's other side as she sat up again, and clambered under her arm into her lap. Aram watched them play while he talked into the phone, explaining to the owner what was happening; they were both dog people, but Samar really had a knack for interacting with them. Now she was up and running around the patch of trees, ducking and weaving between them, while Jackson chased after her. How she had the energy to do that after having just gone for a run along the trails, Aram didn't know. But he couldn't help grinning like an idiot while he watched them.

They were adorable!

He stood up again as he hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket. Samar jogged back over to him, Jackson still at her heels.
'What did the owner say?' She asked, a little out of breath.
'Basically everything  you guessed; the lead slipped and she couldn't catch him before he ran off. She'll double back and meet us down here to get him back. We just have to wait ten minutes or so.' Samar huffed, they really should have been eating breakfast by now. Jackson whined at her feet at the sudden lack of attention, and Samar bent down to scratch his ears.  

It didn't take long for Jackson's owner -a woman probably only a couple of years younger than them- to emerge from the trail at the other end of the park, just as Samar had earlier. She spotted them and waved, before beginning to cross the park and jog towards them. Aram reached out for Samar as she ran past him -she had resorted to running back and forth through the trees again- and grabbed her hand to get her attention.

'Hey, look.' He said, pointing at the woman jogging towards them. Samar stopped suddenly beside him and Jackson crashed head first into the back of her ankles. 
'Finally,' she muttered quietly. Jackson barked, having just noticed who was coming towards them, before suddenly bolting at lightning speed back across the park to his owner. The woman stopped in her tracks, waiting for Jackson to come back to her, then clipped the lead to his collar. She gestured appreciatively to them before turning around and leading Jackson away. Samar huffed again. 'She could have at least come and said thank you for not taking him away or leaving him on his own,' she tutted under her breath, watching them leave. Aram picked up the water bottle Samar had left sitting on the grass as they turned to walk towards the archway where the park exited onto the street. 
'At least he let you play with him,' Aram mock-sighed. Samar shot him a grin, and Aram put his arm around her as they walked out of the park.
'Aram! I'm all sweaty!' She objected. 
'And?' He looked at her quizzically, then kissed her cheek. 'Hi, by the way,' he added with a mischievous grin after a moment's thought. Samar rolled her eyes good-naturedly; Aram never did actually say hello back to her when she first ran up to him. 
'Hi right back at you,' she teased, 'but can we get breakfast now?' Aram chuckled.
'Yes, we can.'  

Chapter Text

'Samar... Your phone is ringing,' came Aram's voice through the bathroom door. Samar opened the door, stepped out of the bathroom -still wrapped only in a towel, and went sprinting to the kitchen counter where she had left her phone earlier, reaching it just in time before it rang out. Aram knew not to answer her phone for her; Samar would get into trouble if he answered an operations call from Mossad, and there was the possibility that they would both get into trouble if he answered a call to her phone from anyone at the Post Office during certain out of office hours -such as on one occasion where Samar very quickly had to think of a reason to explain why Aram answered her phone after 11pm on a Wednesday when Ressler called to double check details for a case report he was writing. Why on earth Ressler insisted on writing a case report that late, or how he thought it was acceptable to call her at that time for non-urgent details were both issues that neither Samar, nor Aram understood, but at least his disregard for the time on that occasion meant he didn't question the excuse of Aram fixing her laptop. That said, from then onwards the rule had changed; from Aram being allowed to answer her phone if he recognised the number, to Aram not being allowed to answer her phone, ever ... And vice versa. Unless of course, there were extreme circumstances. Samar took the call into her bedroom, talking only in hushed undertones, and closed the door behind her. Aram raised an eyebrow as he watched her run back and forth, before returning to the task that had been at hand before the phone rang; making their morning coffee. Samar would undoubtedly be on the phone for a while, and the noise of the coffee machine would at least partly drown out the awkward silence of him trying not to listen through the bedroom door.  

Eventually Samar reemerged from the bedroom, now fully dressed, just as Aram finished pouring the coffee and munching on a piece of toast.  

'Spy stuff?' He asked, somewhat lackadaisically. Accurate or not, after Dubai, 'spy stuff' had become the unofficial code for any situation where Samar had to suddenly and temporarily disappear at Mossad's request, simply because she technically wasn't even supposed to tell him that much. Samar grimaced apologetically as she took one of the mugs from him.
'Yep,' she sighed. 
'I'm not even going to ask,' Aram said, before taking a sip of his coffee. Samar did the same. Silence filled the kitchen as they stood side by side, awkwardly drinking their coffee. Samar waited patiently, counting the seconds until the inevitable round of deliberately vague follow-up questions. Aram just couldn't help himself; the curiosity was killing him! He bit his lip, trying to think of any way to change the subject as he realised once again, how difficult it was not to ask. 'Sooo... Umm...' Aram began cautiously. Samar smirked; he'd lasted all of ninety seconds. Though, at least that was a new record for him. 'Do you want a lift to the airport?' He eventually asked. Samar paused before she answered. That wasn't quite the question she was expecting and frankly... Aram giving her a lift to the airport so that she could catch a flight she couldn't tell him about, in order to take part in an operation that she also couldn't tell him about, but would likely involve her killing someone... That seemed like an absurd idea. Being given a lift seemed contrary to the very idea of the secrecy and independence with which she was used to travelling when working for Mossad. But... The alternative was leaving her own car at the airport, or taking a cab... And really, Aram didn't need to know what flight she was catching or where she was going, to take her to the airport. With his skills, and if he was really desperate enough to know where she was going, he could easily hack into the airport security camera feed and see for himself what flight she boarded. Whether he drove her there or not made no difference in terms of what he would know. But it would be nice not to have to take a cab. Samar's lip quirked up as she made her decision;
'If you don't mind, that'd be nice,' she said with a small nod. Aram did a double take; he hadn't expected her to say yes. A yes meant inadvertently revealing that her destination wasn't local, but he wasn't going to point that out. 'But first,' Samar quickly added, 'I should probably pack.'

Aram followed and stood leaning against the frame of the doorway, as Samar wandered back into the bedroom, pulled her duffel bag out from the closet, and threw it on her bed. In the unlikely event that anyone asked, officially he was helping Samar pack. Unofficially, he was more interested in observing what she packed, so that he could try and guess where she was going. Samar gazed around the room at the clothes laying scattered all over the floor. Somehow, and unlike Aram, she had never quite grasped the skill of keeping a neat pile of clean laundry. Once she had to dig through the pile of clean clothes for something specific, nothing else in the pile stayed folded up. It wasn't a total mess; once a week or so, she actually put away what was left of the pile. But in the meantime, she stubbornly maintained what Aram affectionately referred to as the 'organised chaos'. Samar didn't have the time to re-fold everything for the umpteenth time every day; she had better things to do. She picked up one of the old shirts that had been flung into the corner at some point, and stared at it thoughtfully for a second before holding it up to show Aram.
'Is this one mine or yours?' She asked curiously. It was a genuine question; the old shirts that Samar had deliberately bought oversized to lounge around in, were about the same size as Aram's normal-sized ones. Aram glanced over at the faded, black shirt and frowned in confusion as he realized the dilemma. 
'You know, I'm actually not sure.' He paused and grinned mischievously before continuing; 'smell it and find out?' Samar shot him a withering look as she tucked the shirt into the duffel bag.
'I think I'll just pack it, I can’t see another one.'
'Why'd you ask if you were just going to pack it anyway?' Aram asked quizzically. 
'Just curious,' she said, shrugging her shoulders. Aram rolled his eyes in amusement at her packing the shirt even though she knew there was a distinct possibility that it wasn't actually hers, and started looking around the room for his own clothes; it was early enough in the morning that he was still walking around in his boxers. Samar added a few days worth of clothes to the duffel; not that she needed that many, but she wanted to prepare for delays, just in case. 
'When do you need to leave?' Aram asked, deliberately focusing on the clothes on the floor, and trying to keep the question casual. Samar narrowed her eyes, knowing that Aram would automatically try to calculate a flight time from her answer.
'Let's just say... Any time after I'm done packing. I can always wait around for a while,' she said, looking at him pointedly. Aram huffed in mock-exasperation; he had overplayed his hand with the not-so-sneaky questions. Samar chuckled as she shoved the last few items into the duffel and zipped it closed, then turned her gaze back to Aram. He had his back to her while he dug through the toppled-over laundry pile for two socks that actually matched, and Samar bit her lip cheekily as she sat on the edge of the bed, looking Aram up and down; 'this is killing you, isn't it?' Aram turned back to face her once again, and wandered back across the room to the bedside. The expression on his face was deliberately neutral, and he stopped just short of her, tucking her hair behind her ear as he always did. 
'You know,' he murmured before briefly pausing; it was almost impossible not to burst out laughing, 'for a spy, you should be far better at looking like you're not looking.' He winked at her, finally breaking into a wide grin. But Samar didn't miss a beat. She couldn't figure out how he had known she was watching him when he had his back to her, but she wasn't about to let it show. She stood to press a quick kiss to his lips, and the hands that had rested against the sides of his arms now dropped to toy with the top edge of his boxers.
'Well,' she whispered saucily in his ear, 'I was going to try and distract you from your curiosities before I left, but if you really think I need to work on surveillance, then I might just leave earlier so I have more time to practice.' With that, she quickly planted another kiss on his cheek and playfully pushed him away, before swinging her bag over her shoulder and heading for the door, leaving him to finish getting dressed alone. Aram raised his eyes to the ceiling and sighed in amused exasperation. 
'Samar Navabi, you are going to be the death of me one day.' Samar shrugged nonchalantly as she disappeared through the doorway, and Aram raised a curious eyebrow. 'No witty comeback to that one?' That was ominous. Samar poked her head back around the door to wink at him as she delivered her final retort.
'Well, there are worse ways to die, I guess.'

/*/*/*/*

By the time Samar had finished her assignment and returned to her Prague hotel room, it was 1am and her mood was far less upbeat. It wasn't an assignment that she was supposed to take to start with, but for reasons even beyond Samar's clearance, one of the original agents on the team had to be replaced at the last minute... So, there she was; taking part in an operation with just a few hours of preparation when every other agent on the case had been working it for months. And if being at that kind of disadvantage wasn't bad enough, their target had fought back harder than expected and snatched another agent's gun.

And Samar had only narrowly missed the bullet.

But at least the case was over now, and Samar could fly back to DC tomorrow. She took off her dress, then dug through her duffel bag, looking for the old shirt so that she could change into it. Finally locating it, she pulled it over her head and a familiar scent filled her nostrils, making her smile for the first time all evening. It smelled like Aram. One by one, she turned off all the lights and pulled all the pins out of her hair as she crossed the room to the bed, sending her dark curls crashing down around her shoulders. She picked up her phone from the nightstand as she crawled into bed, and checked her messages; the little blue light from the screen now the only one left to illuminate the room. She skipped over the usual case report messages from the task force -she could get to those tomorrow when she was more awake- and zeroed in on the usual one from Aram that he sent every time she went away; 'be safe '. 
'All good here, I'll be back tomorrow night. You can stop worrying now,' she tapped out in response. It was a slightly embellished version of the events that had transpired, but technically it was true; she was only nearly injured. Of course, she was still feeling a little shaken, but... Samar took a deep breath, that hopefully wouldn't last too long. She nuzzled into the soft, worn fabric of the shirt as she added another line to the text thread; 'oh by the way, that shirt WAS yours.' Samar couldn't quite figure out why -and to a certain degree, it seemed silly to her- but for some reason, having Aram's shirt wrapped around her was oddly comforting.  

Back in DC, Aram watched Samar's messages appear one after the other on the screen of his phone as he ate dinner. No matter how many times she went away, it always felt strange to talk to her so casually when he had no idea where in the world she was, what she was doing, or how she was really feeling. Yet at the same time, it was reassuring when after however many hours or days, the first text came through and the silence broke. 

That's when he knew she was safe.  

He grinned at the comment about his shirt, before another thought occurred to him and his face quickly fell.
'I thought it might be... It doesn't smell that bad, does it? ' Aram really hoped it didn't smell too bad. He shuddered to think what Samar might to do him if his shirt stunk up her entire duffel bag and everything else in it. 
'No, but why is it softer than my shirts? ' Came her reply. Aram let out a sigh of relief; clearly his shirt smelled enough like him for her to know it was his, but it didn't smell bad. His smiled wistfully as he realised what her message actually meant; for all her wisecracks and preferences not to make a fuss, she was wearing his shirt... And he probably wasn't going to get it back.

Chapter Text

'Reddington asked Aram to trace a call to an apartment,' came Liz's voice through the phone. Aram looked up from his computer in surprise as Ressler, Cooper and Samar all suddenly turned their gazes to him, ever so slight suspicion crossing their faces. Aram lowered his eyes back to the computer screen and the search he was running on Leonard Caul, as Liz continued; 'but when they got there Caul was gone. All they found was blood, no body.' 
'He didn't tell me what it was for...' Aram interjected hurriedly before trailing off. He looked up again at the rest of the rest of the team as he said it, wanting to quickly explain and ease the suspicion but not really sure which set of raised eyebrows he should avoid looking at the most, 'and I definitely didn't ask. I could probably still pull up the location.' Cooper nodded his assent to that particular idea, before glancing back at the speakerphone. 
'Alright Keen, we've got a team on the way. Stay safe for fifteen minutes and you're home,' Cooper reassured Liz just before she ended the call. Aram pulled out his laptop to retrieve the search data as the others walked away from his workstation, Cooper still eyeing him warily over his shoulder.  

Samar frowned slightly as she busied herself at her desk; it was normal for her to keep secrets when it came to the things she worked on, but not so much for Aram. He was the one member of the team who seemingly didn't have any secrets, and especially not from her. It was curious to think that not only would Aram keep something to himself, but that he would keep a request like that from Reddington to himself. They all worked with Reddington, and they all knew that Reddington used their cases to pursue his own agenda. Being asked to trace a single call for him would be fairly tame and unsurprising compared to everything else that happened around them every day if he had just mentioned it at the time... So then, why the need to keep so quiet about it? That was the strange part. Then, Aram had practically jumped out of his skin when it was revealed. That was stranger still. Samar paused for a second, listening to the sound of him typing away furiously at his computer behind her; was she, perhaps, not the only one of the pair of them who had secrets?  

Aram's shoulders slumped while he trawled through the search data on his laptop; it wouldn't be difficult to pull up the one call he traced for Reddington, it was just a matter of finding it amongst all the other traces and searches he had done since then -but thankfully even that shouldn't take long; Aram wanted to find the address and clear the air as soon as possible. Tracing that call, even though Red had asked everyone else to leave the room, had seemed like such a minor request at the time when compared to everything else they had going on that day. Nobody had asked him about it afterwards, so once it was done and they were all caught up in yet another case, Aram had simply forgotten to mention it again. That was why the way everyone had looked at him when Liz mentioned the trace had stung a little; he had no idea that it would lead to something so significant, and if he had known, he would have said something straight away. It hurt that they thought he would deliberately hide anything.  

The way they had all backed away from him afterwards only added insult to injury.

As the search started running, Aram shifted his gaze to Samar. Only fifteen minutes or so had passed since she traversed the grand total of three feet back to her workstation but normally in that time she would have already glanced back at him over her shoulder or swivelled her chair halfway around, especially seeing as she was making phone calls and didn't need to be facing any direction in particular. It was what they all did; having the workstations in rows that positioned all of them but him with their backs to each other just created awkwardness in the already tense war room. But in this case, Samar was still sitting with her back to him, and Ressler had disappeared into the smaller office to the side. No words needed to be exchanged; it was perfectly clear that his actions, as unintentionally secretive as they were, had caught the others off guard, and on a day like today where everyone was already on edge, they needed a moment to process.  

But in the meantime, he felt like a leper.

/*/*/*/*

The phone slammed back down on the receiver in frustration the second that Samar heard the latest dead end of the day; the fingers left in the emergency room didn't match any prints in the FBI's database. She sighed and stood from her desk, not really sure what to do next;  'find Leonard Caul' was proving to be far more difficult a task than any of them had expected, and she was now out of leads. She gazed at Aram's desk and sighed again. He wasn't there. Once he had found the location that he had originally traced the call to and informed them, he had disappeared off to another part of the Post Office -leaving her and Ressler to brief Cooper without him.  

Samar added that to the ever-growing list of abnormal things happening that day.  

With that in mind, she decided what to do next; find Aram and ask him what on earth was going on. She wandered over to the break room and poked her head around the door. Well, that was easy. There weren't too many places around the Post Office that Aram would hide but not even Samar thought she would find him in the very first place she looked. Yet, there he was, camped out in the corner of the break room with his laptop, a number of files and an empty coffee mug spread out on the little table. He looked up at her sheepishly as she entered the room, picked up Aram's coffee mug, and began to refill it. 
'Aram, is there something you're not telling us?' Samar asked after a moment of silence had passed. Her tone was calm and casual as she finished refilling Aram's mug and started looking for another one for herself; she was certainly concerned but this wasn't an interrogation.  

It was a conversation they needed to have, but they could have it over coffee.  

Aram bit his lip, he had been wondering when this conversation would come. It was a large part of the reason he had scampered off to work in the break room as soon as possible; to avoid it long enough to think about what to say. Samar finished pouring her own coffee and brought both mugs back to the table as she sat down across from Aram with one eyebrow raised. Aram took in the expression on her face; it was serious, but not angry. He quickly explained what had happened -how he had traced the call and then forgotten to mention it because they were so busy- in what seemed like just one breath. Samar had to try hard not to roll her eyes and shake her head in amused exasperation at the way Aram was so determined to explain everything that he had to roll it all together in one, very long, breathless sentence. She held up her hand for a second to interject-
'Hold on, this was what he asked you during the Deer Hunter case?' Aram nodded, glad that Samar seemed to understand. That was why he'd been so distracted that he had forgotten to mention Red's request to her later; he had been too busy worrying about finding and rescuing Liz from the insane serial killer. Samar finally let out a small smile. Poor Aram... Of course there was a perfectly innocent explanation, and yet they had all automatically assumed everything and anything to the contrary, simply because they all knew they each had their own secrets. No wonder he had escaped to the break room and out of their way as soon as possible.

It went to show though, just how many secrets the rest of them had.  

Aram's shoulders began to relax and the anxious look on his face started to fade as Samar smiled. He took a sip of his coffee, and turned his laptop around to show Samar what he had found -or rather, not found- on Leonard Caul, relieved that they could finally move past the issue, and on to the theory he was working on. Samar looked intently at the screen, then back to Aram in confusion; 'we've got nothing? There's no record of Caul at all in any of the databases you have access to?' She was curious now, wondering where Aram was going with this.
'Yep,' he said slowly, a slight hint of excitement crossing his face as it always did when he thought he was on to something interesting, 'and what does that tell us?' The proverbial light bulb went off in Samar's head.
'He's a covert operative. We don't have access to his records.'
'Not in our database, anyway,' Aram hinted. Samar raised an eyebrow.
'You think he might be in Mossad's database?'
'Well...' Aram grinned at her, 'how much intel do you guys keep on the rest of us?' They both knew all too well that the answer was 'a lot', but Aram didn't have automatic access to Mossad's database and he had been nervous about asking Samar to check it before the air between them was clear. Samar's lip twitched; she had gone into the break room to talk to Aram about keeping secrets, only for him to blatantly ignore an opportunity to argue that she kept access to Mossad's database to herself instead of sharing it with the team. Instead, he just seemed amused by the whole idea. Aram pushed the laptop across the table, closer to Samar so that she could punch in her access code, having taken her smirk as willingness to humour him in his theory. She glanced at him in amusement, before typing in her access code.
'Alright, let's do this.'

Chapter Text

'He said what to you?' Aram asked incredulously, suddenly glancing up from the table at her, and looking horrified. Samar rolled her eyes; they were systematically disassembling, cleaning, oiling and reassembling all her weapons -or rather, she was cleaning her weapons. In no way did she intend to really let Aram touch anything more complicated than a knife. Instead, he was sitting beside her at the table, passing her various tools and other bits and pieces as she asked for them- and she was filling him in on her escapades with Reddington earlier in the day, while Aram continued to be bewildered by the sheer number of weapons she had taken out of various safes and other hidden locations around her apartment, and then promptly spread out all over the kitchen table.  

Samar had kept Red's motives and the identity of his suspect to herself, but Aram knew that her disappearance in the middle of the day was at Reddington's request, so she figured the story of the 'enhanced interrogation' -faked Dembe shooting and all- was fair game. Up until this point Aram had found it as amusing as she did, but now they had arrived at the comment Reddington had made when she returned from the faux-escape; 'Don't look so glum Kenneth, you just got to spend ten minutes being ridden a-hard by Agent Navabi. I'd die for five! ' Samar had struggled not to laugh as she repeated it to Aram.

But apparently Aram didn't find it quite so funny.  

'Not to me,' she corrected him, 'about me.' 
'That's hardly better,' he grumbled, going back to cleaning the switchblade she had handed to him before the comment had stopped him in his tracks. 'But,' he said, suddenly grinning as another thought came to him. 
'...But what?' Samar prompted him.
'But,' Aram paused to snicker to himself for a second before winking at her, 'I get why he's jealous!' Samar smirked; the more time they spent together, the more confident Aram became in teasing her as much as she teased him -at least, when they were alone anyway. 
'First, you tease. What's next, are you going to shoot the next person who uses your coffee cup or misplaces a cable on your desk?' Samar scoffed, knowing all too well that referencing Aram's declared office nemesis would rile him up. 
'That guy keeps doing it deliberately just to annoy me, and you know it! Although...' He paused, thinking for a moment before a look of sheer glee crossed his face, 'I could hack into his Netflix account and lock him out of it for a month. That counts as torture, right?' Samar tried earnestly to suppress a grin of her own.
'Huh, you really are planning how to destroy people. Clearly, you've spent too much time with me,' she deadpanned. 
'Is there really such a thing?' Aram teased back. Samar shot him a look, but Aram's  ever-so-innocent grin said everything; she had walked right into that one.
'Being cute won't help you either,' she muttered darkly under her breath.
'I heard that,' he chuckled, until the look on Samar's face transitioned from mildly irked to thunderous. Aram spluttered, suddenly choking back his laugh in fear. 'Uh...' He began to stammer, as Samar maintained the silent glare. Aram shifted backwards in his chair, not sure what he'd done to invoke her wrath, but definitely sure that he didn't want to see it escalate any further. He moved to take a step away when, without warning, Samar burst out laughing. Aram gaped; completely taken aback by the turn of events. Samar kept laughing, until she had to clutch her side from laughing so hard. 'Samar, what the hell?!' Aram yelped, his voice temporarily rising at least one full octave.
'Sorry,' Samar gasped, still catching her breath. 'I just had to check you haven't spent so much time with me that I can't terrify you with nothing but a look anymore.' 
'That was so not funny.'
'You're right, it was hilarious.' She paused for a moment as she finally caught her breath again, 'oh, pass me that brush?' Aram did so, still wordlessly recovering from her antics. His gaze swept over the table and all the weapons currently sitting in pieces. He knew Samar had at least one back up piece for the one she usually wore on her hip, plus a concealed knife, but Aram could count at least five firearms on the table and six different knives. Since when did she need that many? And where did they all suddenly come from? He knew she had one main safe, but in the time that they had been together so far, and all the times he had been to her apartment, he had never seen all the other little hiding places around her apartment until he saw her running around pulling them all out to clean them. It was a little disconcerting, but in the scheme of things, not entirely surprising. This was Samar's apartment he was thinking about, after all.  

Speaking of which...

Aram's gaze drifted across the room from the table as Samar busily continued reassembling all the pieces, a tiny smile crossing his face. With the all the new things she had bought, it was now looking quite warm and inviting. She had assembled the photo frames in a sort of collage along one wall, with photos of her travels, group shots of evenings out with old teammates from assignments past, a couple from her childhood of her family, and even... One of her and the rest of the taskforce from New Year's Eve. Meanwhile, the book shelf seemed to have taken pride of place along the centre of the main wall, and held not just the small collection of books she actually owned instead of borrowing from friends or libraries, but also a number of other trinkets from her travels, that had formerly lived stored away in a box in the back of her wardrobe. Of course, Aram had seen it all already, but he was still chuffed by how good it all looked every time he saw it.  

But now he was getting off-topic.  

Aram turned his gaze back to the task at hand, suddenly aware that as his mind had wandered for a few minutes, he had gone silent. 
'How do you possibly need that many guns?' He burst out –albeit only curiously. Samar raised an eyebrow in amusement.
'I need more than one backup,' she mused, without shifting her attention away from the one she was reassembling. 'What if one breaks or gets lost? My backup becomes my main, and then I'd need another backup piece.' Aram nodded slowly. That made sense. 
'Why so many hiding places?'
'What if someone breaks in? It's safer not to have them all together.' Huh, that made sense too. Although...
'I half-expected you to say that you kept them separately in case someone broke in and you wanted to launch a guerrilla style attack on them,' he observed flatly, almost disappointed by her answer. 
'Oh, that's what the grenades hidden in the bookshelf are for.' Her tone was dead serious as she tipped her head sideways to gesture at the very bookshelf Aram had been staring at earlier, but her twinkling eyes gave the joke away. Aram shook his head in mock-exasperation and another moment of silence briefly filled the room.  

'Sweetheart?' He prompted, trying to temporarily draw her attention away from the task already at hand; her own mention of the bookshelf had suddenly reminded him of something, but Samar ignored him.
'Princess?' Her head whipped around and she gave him another particularly terrifying look.
'Do not, ever, call me Princess.'
'Ooook.' He mentally crossed that one off his list, as she put the newly reassembled gun back down on the table and reached for the next knife to clean.
'Dear?' With a small sigh, Samar carefully put the knife back down on the table, and looked up to face him again. 
'What are you doing?'
'...Figuring out what to call you,' Aram's voice went up at the end, making it almost sound like a question. It wasn't what the bookshelf had reminded him of, but stuck at the table with nothing to do his mind was continuously wandering off on tangents, and if he had to get her attention anyway... 
'What's wrong with my name?'
'Nothing.'
'But?'
'But, calling each other by nicknames is something that people who...' he paused, realising that despite both attending a wedding together, and exchanging 'I love you's -which were without a doubt, quite official moves- they had never really discussed the specific status of their relationship.
'People who are in a relationship?' Well. That cleared that one right up. 
'Uhh, yes. People who are in a relationship often call each other nicknames.'
'Why?'
'I don't know? Because it's nice?' Samar rolled her eyes and went back to polishing the blade. Aram took that to mean he could go back to his list. 'Honey?' She paused and thought about that one.
'Tolerable.'
'Really?'
'If you use it sparingly.'
'Noted.' a minute or two of silence passed. 'Have you seriously never had a nickname?' A small, wistful smile crossed her face as she thought about it.
'My old Mossad team from a few years ago used to call me Sami sometimes... Does that count?' Aram's face lit up. 'Sami' was actually kind of cute. 
'Yeah it does... I like it,' he paused briefly, before reaching into the backpack he had left by the table when he arrived, pulling out a copy of Ian Fleming's 'Casino Royale'. 'But uh, what I was going to say is; I thought you could add this to your bookshelf.' He slid the book across the table to Samar and she glanced at it warily.
'James Bond?' Hadn't it been established repeatedly that Aram preferred Sherlock Holmes?
'Well I figured, you read a Holmes book after that...' Aram paused to find a diplomatic term, 'conversation I had with Ressler, so you should probably read a Bond book too if you want an unbiased perspective. That, and... Think of it as a bookshelf-warming gift.' Samar dropped the knife back on the table and snorted with laughter. 
'A bookshelf-warming gift?'
'It's a bit late for a housewarming, but you know, in a way it's also... Not so late.' Samar rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him. It was an amusing and ridiculous gesture, and it did have a certain logic to it. Although... She eyed him warily; it was possible he had an ulterior motive. 
'Are you just trying to prove to me that Holmes is superior?' She asked quizzically. Aram shrugged his shoulders sheepishly.
'Maybe...' He trailed off, pulling the most innocent expression he could muster, before gesturing back to the bookshelf again, 'just don't use it to store your cache of ninja stars next to your grenades,' he glanced at the book again, his brow furrowing thoughtfully, 'or you know, I guess you could. So long as you don't put them in the 'Hounds of Baskerville' as well.' Samar nodded sagely, before another idea of her own occurred to her.
'Ok then. Now that that's sorted... What nickname am I supposed to call you?' Aram's face fell. He hadn't anticipated that she would give him a nickname as well, but of course she would come back around to that topic just to mess with him. 
'Uhhh... I don't have any nicknames.' Samar shot him a withering look.
'If I have to have one, you have to have one too.'

Chapter Text

'Hey,' Aram poked his head around the bathroom door just as Samar put the finishing touches on her eyeliner. 'Have you seen my tie?' Samar set the eyeliner back down on the counter and turned, looking at him blankly as she crossed the tiles to where Aram stood in the doorway. 
'Didn't you hang it over the back of the chair?' She asked curiously. Samar was sure she had seen him put it there the night before. Aram stepped back from the doorway so she could wander past him back into the bedroom. 
'I thought I did, but-' Samar rolled her eyes and ducked to pick something up off the wood floor next to the chair, with great flourish. 'Oh, I guess it just fell off,' Aram trailed off sheepishly. Samar simply shook her head, smirking as she dangled the tie from her fingers. It was the blue and silver tie she had picked out for him a couple of months earlier, and though Aram didn't wear it often –he preferred to save it for special occasions- today was an important day, and Aram had made a reservation at such a nice restaurant that he'd had to book weeks in advance, so of course, he had excitedly decided to wear it for once. And because they were planning on going straight from work to the restaurant, Aram –unlike Samar, who had carefully packed her dress in her bag to change into after work- got to wear the tie all day. Still smirking, Samar wandered the few steps back to him, holding up the tie.
'Shall I do this too, seeing as you apparently can't see it?' She teased, reaching forward to swing the tie over his shoulders, and then around his neck. Aram simply stood there –he couldn't exactly move away, at this point- and watched in quiet amusement as Samar quickly tied and straightened the tie, before folding down his collar over the top for good measure. For someone who was so picky about people being in her personal space, Samar had no such qualms about barging into anyone else's. 'How's that?' She asked finally. She took a tiny half step back to admire her handiwork but otherwise remained lingering close to him, her hands absentmindedly toying with the buttons on his shirt. 
'It's perfect,' he said wistfully. It wasn't too loose, it wasn't too tight. For lack of a less clichéd phrase; it was just right. He tipped his head forward just enough to give her a quick kiss. 'Happy birthday, Sami,' he murmured gently. Samar didn't respond. Instead, she slowly pulled away and quietly went back to getting ready for work, picking her boots up off the floor and sitting down on the very chair Aram's tie had been hanging over, to put them on. Aram narrowed his eyes in concern as he studied the expression on her face; it was pensive. Not terribly anxious or upset, but certainly pensive. And aside from the odd moments of teasing that Samar could just never resist, she had been fairly quiet all morning. He tilted his head to one side and shot her a small, quizzical smile. 'You're not even going to roll your eyes at me? It's your birthday!' Samar glanced up at him, her lip finally twitching slightly.
'Sorry,' she let out a sigh as she zipped up her boot. 'I just have a weird gut feeling this morning.' Aram furrowed his brow.
'A weird gut feeling about what?' He asked curiously. The revelation from the Cabal member a week earlier that an attack on a defence installation was imminent, still played on Samar's mind. But Aram didn't know that, and she wasn't supposed to tell him. It was Reddington's information, and until he brought that information to the task force –which, considering the nature and urgency of the information, would undoubtedly be soon anyway- Samar had to keep it to herself. 
'That something...' She hesitated, unsure for a moment as to how to answer the question without giving away too many details '...Bad is going to happen.' She paused, zipping up her other boot, before eventually rising from the chair once again and letting out a reluctant smile, 'but, I'm sure everything will be fine.' That was a lie; she wasn't at all sure. But it was her birthday and though she didn't think it was that big a deal, Aram had been desperate for even a single opportunity to spoil her for once, and so Samar had relented and allowed him to plan something -and he had been excited ever since. So seeing as Samar didn't know for sure what was happening, she wasn't going to ruin his fun with the dark state of mind she was so accustomed to.  

One of them worrying was enough for now.  

/*/*/*/*

Samar stepped out of the elevator and back into the war room, her pursed lips and near-scowling brow rapidly forming an expression of tense contemplation on her face. She was so deep in thought that by the time she had stepped out of the car in the basement and followed Liz and Ressler into the elevator, she had stopped paying their conversation any attention at all. Not only was it the bad day that her instincts had alerted her to earlier, but it was growing worse and worse by the hour.  

Now mid-afternoon and returning from Leo Andropov's house with the news that he had built a biological weapon, Samar had almost completely forgotten it was her birthday.

She traversed the familiar path from the elevator to the break room without even thinking about it; Liz's observation that they may looking at a pandemic, still swirling around in her mind.  

'Hey,' Aram called out to her, as she wandered straight past both their workstations. Samar glanced up in response as the sudden sound jolted her mind from its pensive wanderings. He followed her across the room and into the break room, 'not good news from Andropov's place, I take it?' Samar shook her head.
'Looks like whatever attack is yet come will involve a biological weapon,' she sighed. Aram's face crumpled, knowing that such a revelation wouldn't have done anything other than make Samar's gut churn further still. After Liz brought forward Reddington's information that an attack on a defence installation was approaching, only for her to narrowly miss being seriously injured later at OREA, Aram had hoped that would be all for one day and that Samar's gut instinct would subside. But by the time Liz had been knocked down for the second time in one day at the train station, and he and Samar had discovered there was another potential attack yet to come, he had to started to worry that Samar's gut would wind up on a slippery slope-style trajectory instead.     

And now that things were still getting worse? Aram was convinced that he was never, ever going to question Samar's gut again.  

'Reddington's in Cooper's office,' he informed her, taking the coffee mugs from her hand to make it himself after she nearly absent-mindedly added too much sugar. Samar leaned back against the counter, still puzzling over what could possibly come next.
'Why, this time?' Presumably it had something to do with Cooper's repeated meetings with Conolly that they had all already noticed, but she had no idea what they were all about. Aram finished stirring the coffee, and handed one of the mugs to her, before taking a sip from his own.
'Not a clue,' he said flatly. 'But I think we're going to be stuck here for a while.' Samar shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.
'It wouldn't be the first time.'
'Do you think we'll get to the restaurant in time?' He asked, not sounding at all hopeful. Samar winced. Oh, the dinner! Aram's shoulders drooped as he noted the expression on her face change. 'You forgot, didn't you?'
'There is a lot going on,' she reminded him –albeit gently; at times like this, they did have to prioritise work, but Samar couldn't deny that forgetting the dinner Aram had been so excited about for weeks wasn't exactly a great move either. 'Can you postpone the reservation?' She cringed at his face as soon as the words came out of her mouth; Aram looked about as disappointed as a kid who had just been told Christmas was cancelled. But the reality was; they couldn't exactly insist on leaving work on time just to go to dinner, when there was an imminent threat of attack that they didn't have anything more than sketchy details for, and even Aram knew that much. They could have dinner any other day but right now, they were on a clock. Who knew what else was coming?
'I'll try,' he said reluctantly, placing his coffee mug back in the sink and gesturing for her to lead the way back out to the war room, 'but we might have to wait a while.' Samar shot him a short, but appreciative nod as she took the few steps back to the door. She had a feeling they would have to wait a while too, but not due to the restaurant's ridiculously long waiting list.

She had a feeling that this case was going to keep them busy for quite some time.

/*/*/*/*

'We just missed her. Got a burner,' Aram heard Ressler's voice as he observed the security feeds on his computer. He flickered through the views of every camera in the building, making sure that each of them were still working after the unexpected power cut that had allowed Liz to escape. Despite the fact that they had all stayed at the Post Office working through the night, things had continued along the negative spiral; they hadn't stopped the attack in time, and now not only was Liz the prime suspect, but she had also just escaped from interrogation.

At this point, Aram was wondering if there had actually been any point in cancelling the dinner plans.  

He was also wondering if Liz's seemingly easy escape meant that the FBI needed to review their safety protocols for interrogation spaces; if another, less reasonable suspect ever managed to get out just as Liz had done, they could end up with another hostile takeover situation. But, that issue needed to be put on the backburner for now.  

He had other, more pressing concerns to focus on.  

Aram kept flickering through the last few camera feeds, eventually spotting Samar on her way back from the interrogation room and nearly about to step back into the war room. He looked up at the door she would undoubtedly walk through in just a few seconds, waiting expectantly. It hadn't been easy to stand around waiting in the war room unable to help as Samar and Ressler had rushed off into the darkness and the blindness of no functioning cameras, weapons drawn; there was only so much for an unarmed technical analyst to do when the power was down. But now he had his work cut out for him, restoring all the computer systems, checking for damage, and going through every camera feed to see if there was even the slightest thing they had missed.  

Samar finally appeared in the doorway, and immediately glanced around the room seeking him out. They exchanged uneasy glances as she pushed through the crowd of agents huddled in the room, and marched over to his desk. She stopped beside him, glancing over his shoulder at the security feeds, the now exceptionally familiar expression of tense contemplation once again etched across her face.  

'Found anything?' She asked, a slight edge of desperation to her tone. Aram shook his head, still typing furiously at his computer. Samar bit her lip. 'What is Reddington trying to do? We need to find Liz, bring her back and clear all this up before anything else happens.' Aram turned to look at her again, eyebrows raised, and unsure whether Samar was actually talking to him, or just venting at the air. 
'All I have so far is footage of her leaving the building, but after that she's gone.' He decided to play it safe. 'Until she resurfaces again, I don't know how much we can really do.' Samar let out a sigh and shook her head in tired frustration, and an awkward silence fell between them for a moment, each of them knowing what was going through the other's mind, but unable to express it in the middle of the crowded war room. Samar was conflicted over the idea of what it meant to be now chasing someone from her own team, and all Aram really wanted to do was make some, -or any- kind of gesture to reassure her that this wasn't her fault, and everything was going to be ok. But, he was conflicted too, and Samar wasn't all that sure that everything was going to be ok. She turned on the spot and leaned back against Aram's desk, blocking the people behind her from noticing her hand resting beside her against the edge of the desk. Now already staring back at his computer, Aram saw her move out of the corner of his eye and knew what she was doing. He quickly pulled his hand away from the mouse and slid it the couple of inches across the desk to the edge and gave her hand a quick squeeze, before hurriedly letting go again and returning his own hand to his keyboard. Samar didn't look at him, instead focusing her gaze intently on the floor.

Aram knew she was just letting him get it out of his system –he needed the two seconds of contact and though Samar wouldn't admit it, she did too- but he appreciated it all the same, especially when he knew what her gut would be telling her now.

Things were still going to get worse.

Chapter Text

It had been a relatively quiet, albeit tense, day in the Post Office. With Liz completely off the radar, Aram had been right; there really was nothing they could do until she resurfaced. Agents ran back and forth, talking amongst themselves in whispers or hushed undertones, undoubtedly gossiping about whether or not Liz really was guilty of the attack on the Senator at the memorial service, but otherwise not doing much at all. Aram had continued going through the security feeds over and over, and over again,  while Samar and Ressler tried to wrap their heads around the Cabal's plan and figure out where on earth Liz might be going next. Then word came through that she had finally re-appeared... And shot Conolly...

...And then all hell broke loose.  

Ressler had rushed out of the war room without a word before Samar could even blink, let alone follow him. It hadn't yet occurred to Ressler that Bureau protocols dictated that agents go into the field in pairs and now with Liz gone, he was supposed to take Samar with him instead. But Samar didn't chase him. Liz would have fled the scene immediately, and so all Ressler would be doing was taking witness statements, and he could do that on his own.  

She didn't anticipate that Ressler would eventually return as furiously silent as he had left.

He marched from the elevator straight down the main thoroughfare that was the space between her and Aram's desks, teeth gritted and eyes not looking anywhere but directly forward, clutching Liz's photo in one hand. He stuck the photo front and centre on the case board then gazed almost painfully at its surroundings, still deathly quiet. Samar and Aram swivelled in their chairs and exchanged uneasy glances across the room. An uncomfortable silence fell between the three of them until Aram's phone rang, and Ressler took the few steps back to stand expectantly at his desk.
'Uh, we've got a possible sighting of Liz getting into a silver Chevy minivan...' Aram trailed off, quickly writing down the plate number and address onto a post it and placing it in Ressler's already outstretched hand. 
'Both of you, stay here,' he ordered, hurriedly walking backwards from Aram's desk towards the elevator so as not to waste even a second, 'coordinate with local police, air support... Hell, coordinate with everyone between here and the place she was sighted.' Aram simply nodded in response as Ressler finally turned around just in time to step into the elevator before the doors closed in his face, he wasn't expecting to do anything other than stay in the war room anyway. But, Samar wasn't impressed. She stood from her chair and started pacing back and forth along the space between her and Aram's desks. She was already thinking ahead; she knew exactly which approaches both Ressler and Aram were going to take, and she didn't agree with either of them.  

/*/*/*/*

Once again, when Samar and Aram alerted Ressler in the break room to yet another sighting of Liz called in by the DC field office, he left the building on his own. Samar turned in a huff to go back to her own desk, but Aram caught her arm. Twice already, she had avoided answering his question about whether she believed Liz was innocent by quickly changing the subject, and the tension in the air between them was growing with every one of her reluctant non-answers and his slightly-too-pleased observances of Liz's continued efforts to evade them. And, when Aram had hesitantly accepted the reality that things were still going to continue spiralling out of control, a personal argument between them was something he had hoped would be the one bad thing not to happen.
'Samar, we need to actually talk about this.' 
'Does it have to be now?' She objected. 'This is all moving so fast, half the city is on lockdown. We don't have time to get caught up in this right now.'
'Then when? Samar, you know Liz is being set up.'
'She's innocent, yes I know. You made that quite clear. And Ressler's priority is to uphold the law, I get it.' Samar let out a brief sigh of frustration. 'But Aram, you're both missing the most important thing.'
'Which is?' His question almost came out as a yelp; what could she possibly think he was missing? It took everything Samar had, not to yell out of sheer exasperation. She could appreciate Aram's optimism, and his never-wavering faith and loyalty to Liz, but he was taking just as black-and-white an approach as Ressler was –just to the opposite extreme. And it wasn't going to help. Samar took a breath, steadying her voice before she responded; much like Aram, she didn't want this to come between them either. 
'Whether she's innocent or guilty doesn't matter right now; what we need to do is keep her safe.'
'I am keeping her safe!' Aram protested; as far as he concerned, he was trying to keep Liz out of jail where the Cabal's government plants could inevitably reach her, and instead with Reddington, whom Aram trusted to keep Liz safe from the Cabal members on the streets. 
'No, you're keeping her out there, where the Cabal is chasing her just as intensely as law enforcement,' Samar retorted, 'at least if we catch her, we can keep her away from them, and instead near us. Then we can sort out whether she's innocent or guilty.' Aram's face crumpled as Samar made that final statement. She did have a point, and Aram couldn't refute her logic –but he still hated the idea of having to catch Liz.  

It felt like betrayal.  

'You know they threatened us, right?' He asked quietly, after a brief pause. 'That's why she shot Conolly. They're not just after her, they're after all of us.' Samar did a double take; she hadn't heard that information yet. 
'Wait, what?'
'Conolly told Liz in front of Cooper, and Cooper said it in his statement; they threatened all of us. They threatened me... Samar, they threatened you. He said they were going to have you sent back to Iran for treason.' Samar's eyes snapped to his in alarm; finally realising just how far the Cabal's reach had spread. Aram's eyes pleaded with her to listen; he knew precisely what the implications were if that threat rang true and though he wasn't sure whether the threats were still possible, or whether they died with Conolly, it wasn't something he was prepared to risk. 'Liz stopped him,' he added, before pausing, desperate for her to understand him as well as he now understood her, 'you do believe she's innocent, right?' Samar nodded reluctantly.
'She needs to accept the responsibility for what she has done but yes, I know she's not the terrorist they're framing her as.' Aram let a breath of relief, but Samar wasn't finished; 'Aram, you can't keep defying Ressler. He's in charge now; he can kick you off the taskforce if you don't look like you're trying to bring her in like the rest of us. And...' Samar shot him a pleading look of her own, as Aram's phone began to ring, 'Liz needs you here.' Aram pulled his phone from his pocket, only to see Ressler's name lighting up the caller ID. He held it up, showing Samar the flashing screen.
'It's Ressler, at the bar where Liz and Mr. Reddington were sighted,' he paused briefly before accepting the call, to glance back appreciatively at Samar for what she had just said, 'thank you.'

/*/*/*/*

Samar sat in the car, watching from the passenger's seat as Ressler gazed into the van Liz had just escaped from and eventually answered his phone. There was no need for her to get out of the car; Liz had managed to sidestep them yet again, and there was nothing at the scene for them to see that other agents hadn't already processed before she and Ressler arrived.  

And frankly, she didn't want to be anywhere near Ressler right now.

Of course, after all her annoyances at him repeatedly going into the field solo throughout the day, the one time he stopped long enough for her to accompany him would be the one time he nearly got her killed. Or rather, the one time he nearly killed her. Samar was still shaken; she hadn't expected Ressler to take the shot and when he did, she had heard the high-pitched whistle of the bullet flying straight past her ear only for her to fall to the ground with the gang member who had held his gun to her head, just a second later. For now, she was just trying not to think about the blood splattered on the side of her face. She had managed to wash most of it off, but because it was a far lower priority than actually pursuing leads, and they didn't always have easy access to bathrooms while in the field, by the time Samar did actually have a chance to wash off the blood, some of it had already stained her skin.  

The personal aspects of the case were already affecting all of their instincts, and that was precisely why Ressler's instincts scared her. Because if he was already so reckless and furious at the situation that he was making the sort of decisions that could get her killed, who knew what would happen next time? Next time, she might not be so lucky. She glowered at him through the windscreen –not that he even noticed. But wondering just what kind of look it would take to actually kill someone, did make her feel a little better. She glanced at the phone in her lap as it started ringing and brought her internal venting to a close. Aram's name flashed on the screen. 
'Did you find her? Did you catch her?' He asked hurriedly, within a nanosecond of Samar answering the call. 
'No, and no,' she replied, a tired edge to her tone. Aram couldn't help but feel pleased by that, no matter how well he understood that it was probably better for them to find Liz. But he did however, note the edge to Samar's voice.
'What's wrong?' 
'Ressler basically just tried to kill me,' she huffed. Well, maybe that wasn't entirely accurate, but it certainly felt like it was. And frankly, Samar was too irritated to put it more mildly. 
'What?!' Aram's voice rose at least one, if not two octaves higher. 
'He failed, I'm still alive. Just in case you missed the part where I answered the phone,' she said flatly. Her patience hadn't just worn thin, it had worn out entirely. 
'Samar... What actually happened?' Samar let out a sigh, and quickly explained Ressler's wild, lucky shot.  

Then she had to hold the phone away from her ear while she waited for Aram to stop yelling.  

'Hey, I thought I was the angry one,' she mused, as his usual non-profanities came to an end. 
'Sorry,' he muttered through the phone. Samar let out a wry smile; tensions were running high in the war room, and Aram was already panicking over the Cabal's threat against her, let alone the idea that he had to worry about Ressler's antics as well. Aram's outburst, though uncharacteristic and probably just a result of all the other stresses of the day, was somewhat reassuring –and it at least meant Samar hadn't been overreacting when she had yelled at Ressler herself.  

Speaking of which; Ressler had just hung up his phone, and was now promptly walking back to the car.

'Aram, I have to go,' she said suddenly, not wanting Ressler to have the opportunity to overhear as he got back into the car.
'When will you be back?' Samar paused, uncertain, before responding.
'Not sure.'
'Ok, keep an eye on Ressler,' Aram half joked, half growled.
'I will,' Samar tried not to grin. At least they could be annoyed at Ressler, together. 
'And trust your instincts.'
'I will.'

Chapter Text

Bleary-eyed and in serious need of a shower, Samar stepped once again through the rumbling elevator doors into the war room, after finally returning from the Russian embassy. In what was her second night of the last three, Samar had worked overnight –her and Ressler holding their position outside the embassy from the moment Liz jumped the fence in the early hours of the evening, all the way through until the diplomatic vehicle drove her away the following morning... With Ressler hot on her heels. Contrary to the previous few days, in this case Samar hadn't objected to Ressler once again rushing off on his own without telling her where he was going; after his wild shot that nearly killed her, and the way she had constantly needed to talk him down from inadvertently starting World War Three outside the embassy, Samar was no longer in such a hurry to follow him into the field. Plus, she was just so damn tired. They had taken shifts throughout the night; one standing outside the gate and negotiating with the bureaucracy, while the other tried and failed to sleep in the back of one of the SUV's, then swapping every couple of hours... But once again, their efforts appeared to have been worthless; Liz had escaped, and the rest of them were so tired that they could barely function.  

Well, except for Aram.

Aram, not being a field agent, had been allowed to go home. There certainly wasn't much he could do from the war room while Samar and Ressler stood around outside the embassy, doing nothing much themselves besides just glaring at the security guards and bracing for a possible escape attempt. That said, Aram had stayed awake as long as he could at home, the two of them exchanging the odd text here and there throughout the first of Samar's guard shifts. Mostly, the texts were quips complaining about Ressler's crazy shot and then later, his snoring, but Aram had offered multiple times to stop by armed with coffee as well –all of which, Samar turned down in an effort to try and make sure that at least one of them got some sleep. Eventually, Aram had just stopped responding, and Samar had taken that to mean that he had finally conceded defeat in the battle to keep his eyes open.  

Though in hindsight, she was now wishing that she had let him stop by not with coffee, but with a change of clothes.  

Samar normally kept one change of clothes in her locker at the Post Office, but after she had changed on the night of her birthday when they had to stay in the war room overnight to try and prevent the attack on the memorial, she had only gone so far as to remember to take the worn clothes home with her the next night –after Liz escaped. She had been in such a hurry to return to work and find Liz the next morning or rather, yesterday morning, that she had forgotten to take a spare set of clean clothes to put back in her locker. So now, not only were all the days rolling into each other in her mind, but she was stuck in the same clothes for a second day too.

And she really, really needed that shower.  

Aram looked up expectantly as Samar approached his desk, the soft smile that lit up his face when he saw her stepping out of the elevator quickly fading as she came closer and he spotted the dark circles under her eyes.  

'Mooorning...' She said, stifling a yawn. Aram picked up the second coffee cup on his desk –the one he had made to have ready and waiting, after she had called to say she was on her way back- and handed it to her.
'Coffee?' He chirped. There was no point in beating around the bush with greetings that she was probably too tired to even register. Samar's hand darted out to take the cup from him, and stopping only to inhale the heavenly smell that was the first coffee of the morning, before taking the first sip. 
'I love you,' she sighed, before taking another gulp. Aram smirked, wondering in at least part seriousness whether she was talking to him or the apparent elixir of life in her hands.  As Samar quickly drained the cup and let out what Aram could very nearly describe as an honest-to-goodness pout of disappointment, he quickly decided; it was probably a little of both. Either way, he was glad to see that there was no longer a single trace of their tension from the previous couple of days, still lingering in the air. Aram had felt a little shaken after their debate in the break room over Liz's innocence; the way that something work related had come suddenly screaming out of nowhere and had such a profound effect on them personally, was worrying. And though they had managed to talk themselves through it so far, they still held glaringly different views on the situation that was seemingly not going to end any time soon. Needless to say, Aram was not the only one concerned about what that could mean for them and so they were still on edge; telling themselves and each other that they were fine, but still cautious about the inevitable conflicts yet to come. After a brief moment of reluctance, Aram let his smirk widen to an amused grin, and handed over his own still half full cup.
'More?' He asked simply. Aram probably wasn't going anywhere so even though, like most people, he was hesitant about giving up his coffee, he figured it was easy enough to go and make himself another one later. Samar on the other hand, could wind up back in the field at any moment... And she really needed more coffee. Samar shot him a guilty look, wanting the coffee but also knowing that the sanctity of the morning coffee was one of the few things Aram took just as seriously as she did. Aram rolled his eyes and nudged her hand with the edge of the cup, prompting her to take it. 'Do you want to know what Ressler is apparently doing now?' He added, as Samar finally took the second cup and polished off the contents almost as fast as she had the first.
'No, but tell me anyway,' she sighed. 
'Apparently he deliberately crashed his SUV into the Russian town car taking Liz to the airport.' Samar just blinked at him. Ressler had hung up his phone, jumped in his car, and rushed off after Liz without a word when she was driven away from the embassy, so Samar had naturally assumed that Ressler would be chasing Liz, but not that he would do something that insane. 
'...Why?' 
'No idea, yet...'  Aram said, shrugging his shoulders. 'I just heard Reven Wright yelling about it into her phone. He's on his way back now, I'm sure we'll hear all about it then.' Samar furrowed her brow, concerned at Ressler's seemingly continued reckless antics. The phone on her work desk began to ring, making them both glance at each other wearily as it reminded them that personal aspects aside, this was still technically a case just like any other...

...And no matter how tired they were, there was still work to be done.     

/*/*/*/*

Amazingly, and of all the days to have sacrificed half his coffee, Aram did end up leaving the war room for once. In fact, he was far too excited about it for Samar's taste. The delight on his face at being able to go into the field was amusing, sure... But at the same time, it made Samar a little uncomfortable.

And it was a distraction.  

Aram wasn't a field agent, and he was unarmed. Having him there in the field next to her was worrying, and though he was at least wearing the standard Bureau issue Kevlar, all of a sudden and much to her frustration, Samar found herself feeling oddly protective of him... And if that wasn't embarrassing enough, on each of the rare occasions she moved from hovering by his side, Samar kept catching herself subconsciously glancing over her shoulder at where he stood amongst the crowd of much beefier SWAT agents just to make sure he hadn't clumsily mistepped and wound up trampled.  

On the plus side, Samar's anxiety levels lowered significantly once Ressler yelled the breach order and she had to focus instead on running into the diner, rather than standing around and waiting outside. It was the waiting impatiently that had her mind wandering and worrying, but once she had something more specific to focus on, she felt far more at ease. Aram's anxiety levels, on the other hand, skyrocketed at the very same moment that Samar's went flying out the window. Once she went suddenly sprinting away from him, weapon drawn, for the second time in three days, the Marvin Gerard situation wasn't quite so amusing or exciting any more. Once again, Aram looked around wildly, unsure what to do, as Samar and Ressler ran into the building, leaving him behind. He slowly began packing up his mobile workstation, just for the sake of having something to do while he waited for them to return. It was an anxious wait, and a completely different level of worrying about her in the field to what Aram was used to, simply because he knew exactly where she was –in the building right in front of him- but had no idea whatsoever what was happening inside. She was so close but yet, so far. It didn't feel the same as when he was in the Post Office and had that certain degree of distance between himself and whatever situation Samar was running into. In this case, he'd had the opportunity to see exactly what it was she was running into, or at least, the outside of it... And Aram didn't like the look of it.  

/*/*/*/*

'Why would he go to all this trouble... Risk everything, just to free Marvin Gerard?' The question Samar had asked in the war room after they all returned, still played on her mind. Ressler had told them to put the word out that they were essentially back to square one, and that was that. Red and Liz were in the wind and thus, it was time for the rest of them to go home and get some rest before starting afresh in the morning. After the long day –and the long night too- it should have come as a relief when she and Aram collapsed onto the couch with takeout for dinner but yet, Samar remained nervous. She didn't like how anxious she had felt about Aram being in the field, nor how they kept alternating between tip toe-ing around each other so as to avoid arguing over Liz, and clinging to each other more than usual out of fear that the whole debacle was going to pull them apart. It had Samar conflicted over where the relationship was heading. They had coasted along for almost a year now; enjoying each other's company, establishing a routine, and most definitely becoming attached to one another but really, they had barely scratched the surface. So much of it was superficial. It wasn't exactly clear what they were doing –only that they didn't want to lose whatever it was that they did have. Nonetheless, the on and off tension and the sudden nervousness made Samar wonder whether their lives, or at least their thoughts and feelings, should have been more intertwined by this point. No matter how much time they spent together, there was still so much they didn't share... That they kept to themselves in some kind of last ditch effort to maintain a certain sense of independence, just in case.  

Gritting her teeth, Samar decided that perhaps, the one thing they needed to get through it all was not to fearfully cling or ignore their issues but rather, to pull together and try to rise above it.  

'Aram?' She said suddenly, glancing over from the couch and all her case notes, to the kitchen where Aram was quietly washing the small handful of dishes.
'Mmm?' Aram too, was lost in thought. Samar bit her lip, still slightly hesitant... But she quickly shook it off, determined that keeping something so inconsequential to herself for so long was just silly.
'Do you want to come to my soccer match next weekend?' That got Aram's attention. He turned on the spot so quickly, he nearly tripped over his own feet as he looked back at her. Samar often played matches of soccer in the park that ran between their neighbourhoods, with other women in the area who worked crazy hours and therefore couldn't quite manage the commitments of the more formal, local league. It was a casual, friendly, and far more flexible arrangement where the matches were only every other weekend, the players turned up when they could, and made do with what they had each time. Samar loved it, but she had never asked Aram to come along before; in part because she knew he wasn't really a sports kind of guy, but also because each and every personal thing she shared made her feel that little bit more vulnerable. Of all the things not to share until now, soccer in the park was probably the most ridiculous possibility and Samar knew that, but she kept it to herself anyway –only mentioning it to Aram on occasion, after the matches were over. Aram raised a curious eyebrow, understanding exactly how significant her offer was, and why she had picked today of all days to invite him.  

For all Samar's concerns that they might not be heading in the same direction, Aram had indeed been considering the same kind of idea.

'I'd love to,' he said, nodding eagerly. Aram didn't know a thing about soccer, so he wouldn't have a clue what was going on, but he was too delighted to care about that. Samar grinned back, pleased by the fact he seemed so genuinely enthusiastic. 'And on that note,' Aram added slowly, his own cheeky grin working its way across his face, 'do you want to watch Doctor Who with me?' Samar froze; marathoning episodes of Doctor Who was something that, much like Samar and her soccer matches, Aram did on his own simply because out of sheer embarrassment, he had figured that might be one geeky step too far for Samar... And he'd been right. In all truthfulness, Samar wasn't particularly keen to watch it... But, Aram was doing the same thing she was; sharing something that was important to him, and Samar understood that much. 
'Soccer in the morning, then Doctor Who in the afternoon?' She suggested, after her brief flash of hesitation had passed. Aram narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion as he put the last plate back in the cupboard and shifted his gaze back to her again.
'With ice cream in the middle somewhere, right?' 
'Well, obviously.' Samar huffed in indignation; of course there was going to be ice cream. What kind of silly question was that?
'Sounds like a plan, then.' Aram shot her a wink as he ducked out of the room and into the hallway to pull his own case notes out of his backpack, and Samar pushed hers over to one side of the coffee table to make space for him. She let out a small chuckle and rolled her eyes at how excited Aram was; she could even hear him humming to himself in the hallway. But, if they could share these things -no matter how equally superficial they may be- they could start to share more, and hopefully they would manage to figure things out.

It was, at least, one obstacle out of the way for the moment... Perhaps they'd manage to navigate this rapidly winding road after all.

Chapter Text

'Hey,' Aram murmured, reaching for Samar's arm as he walked out of the copy room and saw her about to hurry straight past him on the way to the break room. She stopped, turning to glance at him quizzically; she didn't have much time to stop and talk before she and Ressler had to leave for their flight to Iowa, and Samar certainly was not going to sacrifice her possible last chance for coffee. 
'What's wrong?' She asked cautiously, noting the concern on his face. 
'Nothing, just... ' Aram shot her an uneasy glance as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, 'be safe.' 
'You only tell me that when I go away on assignment, and you don't know where I am. You know where I'm going this time,' Samar tried to reassure him. 
'I know.'
'But?'
'But,' Aram let out an anxious sigh, 'you're going up against the Cabal, and that means anything could happen... So just, be safe? Please?' Samar glanced around the small space between the copy room and the concrete columns that separated it from the rest of the war room to make sure nobody was looking, before grasping his hand that remained lingering by hers, and giving it a quick squeeze. 
'I'll do my best,' she said earnestly, before shooting him a quick grin, 'I do have to get back in time for tomorrow, remember?'

/*/*/*/*

'You boys about finished?' Samar sighed impatiently. Setting her boot down on Eli Matchett's arm and keeping her weapon pointed firmly at him in case he tried to move again, Samar glared at Ressler still rolling in the dirt between the corn stalks. Ressler rolled onto his back, looking up at her briefly, before lowering his head back to the ground and closing his eyes as he tried to catch his breath.
'He's all yours.' Samar gave Ressler a short nod, then wrestled Matchett's backpack from his grasp, as Ressler slowly picked himself up from the ground next to her. She had been worried for a moment there, that with all the twists and turns of the case, they wouldn't manage to fly back to DC before the end of the day... And if she had to fly back the next morning instead, she would miss her soccer match. It wasn't a big deal; she could play soccer any other weekend, and watching Doctor Who with Aram wasn't time sensitive at all. But, after the last week or so, and everything that came with it, Samar didn't really want to put off their weekend plans –no matter how trivial they were.  

And Aram, no doubt, felt the same.

Samar dragged the now handcuffed Matchett along through the cornfield, and shut him in the back of one of the Bureau issue SUVs, thankful that it was only late afternoon. Assuming nothing else went wrong, the short flight back would land well before the night was over. She wandered across the field back to where Ressler was standing, just as he hung up the phone. He glanced back at her, before heading wearily -and without a word- towards the car they had arrived in. Perhaps the case wasn't quite over yet, but there was nothing more for them to do in Iowa. The rest they could do back at the Post Office, and that meant... She got to go home.  

/*/*/*/*

Aram sat on the grass under one of the patches of trees in the park that ran between his and Samar's neighbourhoods, watching on absentmindedly as she stood across the grass intermittently chatting with her teammates and guzzling from her water bottle now that the match had finished. It had felt odd not to have her around the day before; with Ressler usually partnered up with Liz, Samar had often been relegated to working in the war room with him. But with Liz on the run, and the rest of them needing to shuffle things around, Samar now spent much more of her time in the field with Ressler than she ever had done before. Then yesterday, with the case load seemingly returning to normal as the hunt for Liz took a backseat, Aram had noticed Samar's absence more than ever... And he had missed her.

Aram stood slowly to greet her as she eventually waved her teammates goodbye and jogged across to him.
'Hey!' Samar smiled widely as she approached; worn out and breathless, but still most definitely happy. Aram reached out and pulled her in for a hug once she stopped in front of him.
'That was great!' He exclaimed. Samar chuckled as she pulled away, and tried to catch her breath.
'Did you understand any of it?' 
'Not a bit,' Aram said, a cheeky grin flashing across his face. He had deliberately resisted googling the rules of soccer in order to keep it all casual, so he had no idea what had been going on in the time Samar had spent running around kicking the ball back and forth with her teammates, but he still found it all quite entertaining –especially when there seemed to be some kind of conflict with the referee and Samar had glared smugly at someone that appeared to be swearing at her in frustration. Samar rolled her eyes at him in amusement. 
'Well, there are those nets at either end of the pitch,' she teased, gesturing behind her at the space where the makeshift goal nets had stood earlier, 'and you have to try and kick the ball in.'
'Hey, I understood that much. You did that, I saw it,' Aram nodded quickly, as they began walking towards the archway at the end of the park. He knew almost nothing about soccer, but even he wasn't so ignorant of sports that he didn't understand the concept of a goal, and Samar knew that. He'd had to resist cheering wildly when Samar had kicked her goal; although a handful of the other players on her team had cheered and clapped her on the back, it was a casual enough match that the small spattering of other friends and relatives that sat around the park to watch didn't tend to become so noisy in response. That said, it had been impossible to resist feeling proud when he saw her duck and weave around the players of the opposing team to sneakily kick the goal from one side when it had looked like she was heading for the other –that was something Aram hadn't even seen coming until it happened. 'You're getting an extra chocolate flake in your ice cream for that too, by the way,' he added, with a touch of seriousness. Samar snorted with laughter, nearly choking on her water. Aram braced to thump her on the back to help her breathe if he needed to but fortunately, she managed to recover her breath on her own, before speaking again. 
'It's really not that big a deal.' Aram shot her a skeptical look sideways, as they exited onto the street; the plan was to walk the couple of blocks back to his place from the park to watch Doctor Who, stopping for ice cream at the parlour halfway along as they went.
'Are you complaining about extra chocolate?'
'...No,' Samar said slowly, trying to look ever-so-innocent. It didn't work; innocent was not the kind of expression Samar could pull off. Aram grinned knowingly and chuckled to himself. 
'That's what I thought.' Samar scowled in mock-annoyance at being caught out, making Aram only laugh more so. In all truthfulness, she was quite pleased that Aram thought her goal was as worthy of celebration as she did, but she wasn't going to admit any of that; she was far too used to simply being pleased with herself and leaving it at that. They rounded the corner quietly, beginning the stretch towards the ice cream parlour, and Aram suddenly spoke again; 'you know what occurs to me?' He asked quickly. Samar raised a single eyebrow in suspicion. 'What?'
'How can someone who hates the cold so much, love ice cream as much as you do?' Aram teased.
'What kind of person doesn't like ice cream?' A touch of mock-indignation crept into Samar's voice as she turned to glance at him and shake her head in exasperation; 'Aram, I'm a badass, not a monster.'  

/*/*/*/*

Via his peripheral vision, Aram glanced ever so slightly sideways at Samar sitting on the couch next to him. The expression on her face was somewhere halfway between strained, and utterly bewildered. They had watched four episodes of Doctor Who so far, and Aram could tell Samar hadn't enjoyed them at all. That said, it probably hadn't helped that in an effort to show her how good the show was, Aram had chosen to play an almost-highlight reel of his favourite episodes -rather than watch any of them in order- and just explain pieces of the story arcs as necessary.  

Samar was now completely confused as to what was supposed to be happening.

As that fourth episode came to an end, Aram grudgingly reached for the remote to eject the dvd before standing to take the few steps over and turn the television off. Samar hadn't complained once, so far... But perhaps it might be better to stop at four, before she couldn't hold it in any longer.
'Hey, what are you doing?' She asked, catching his arm to stop him. In response, Aram gestured at the remote in his hand. 
'Turning it off, I think four are enough for now.' Samar noted the dejected look on his face, and let out a soft smile. 
'Leave it on.' 
'You don't like it though,' Aram observed, shaking his head. Samar simply shrugged; just because she didn't like it, that didn't mean Aram couldn't keep watching. 
'But you do,' she prompted. Aram shook his head again; he had already been embarrassed about asking her to watch it with him, and now he was disappointed that she hadn't enjoyed it. At this point, he certainly didn't want to make her watch any more. Aram opened his mouth to protest again, but Samar cut him off with a gentle wave of her hand; 'how about... You keep watching, and I'll just read my book instead?' Aram furrowed his brow, processing that idea. It was a good one, really; he could keep watching Doctor Who, and Samar wouldn't have to... But she would still be there next to him anyway. Though, the main point was the former; Aram wasn't selfish, but he was having fun watching his favourite show, and he really, really wanted to watch more.
'Deal,' he said, quickly nodding. Samar held back a laugh; she knew he would give in to that idea without needing much convincing. She rose from the couch and ducked out of the room to collect her book from her backpack that she had left in the bedroom, before hurrying back to curl up by Aram's side again. 'Thank you,' he said sheepishly, as he started the next episode. Samar shot him an amused smirk. 
'Thank you for not making me watch any more.'

/*/*/*/*


'No, I never land on Sundays. Sundays are boring,' the voice of the character Samar assumed was supposed to be the Doctor in that particular episode, came from the television. 
'Wait, what? ' She asked, glancing up from her book, just as she had on a number of occasions when odd lines suddenly managed to draw her attention. Aram hurriedly hit the pause button, before turning back to face her again, his eyes twinkling at the idea that finally, there might be something about the show that Samar actually found interesting. 
'Oh, the Doctor says all kinds of things about the days of the week,' Aram quickly explained, eager to make the most of whatever brief flash of curiosity Samar had, and try to capture her attention further -not that such a simple explanation eased Samar's confusion in the slightest. 'There's one episode where he says nobody does anything of importance on a Tuesday either,' he added, nodding sagely as if that explained everything. Samar gaped for a second, before shaking her head and letting out a sigh. Any time she asked a question, Samar had wound up even more confused instead and apparently, this particular incidence was going to be no different. 
'I think there's something to be said for having the context for a quote like that,' she observed, turning back to her book. It was probably better just to stop asking. Aram's face crumpled in disappointment; he doubted that she would actually want to watch the episodes just for the sake of context, but he had hoped that surely there would be something that she could relate to. Hmmm... Aram stopped to think for a moment as Samar resumed the slow turning of pages, trying to come up with something that might actually make sense to her.

And then it hit him.  

'You know...' He began slowly, and Samar glanced warily away from her book again, 'there was one episode where the Doctor said,' Aram paused for a second to put on the best version of the eighth Doctor's voice that he could muster; 'never turn down tea if it's offered. It's impolite, and that's how wars start.' Samar finally let out a grin.
'Well, he's not wrong there,' she conceded. Aram's face lit up in excitement. As much as Samar loved coffee, she drank just as much tea, and it was just ridiculous enough a quote to amuse her, without taking that one step further into what she considered completely nonsensical. Aram was so pleased with himself for thinking of it that he was bursting at the seams, but he didn't want to let it show too much –just in case. 
'You prefer coffee though,' he mused, trying desperately to contain himself. Samar simply shrugged.
'Coffee keeps me functioning, but tea keeps me calm,' she said casually, 'just like good manners.' Aram held back a chuckle. In that case, maybe the eighth doctor really did have a point. If Samar couldn't manage to stay calm –whether it be from impoliteness, a lack of tea or god forbid; both - she probably would accidentally start a war. Aram hesitated as that thought passed, suddenly tempted to mention all the other tea-related Doctor Who moments that were now coming to mind, but also not wanting to send Samar rushing to read her book elsewhere. It was a fine line to toe. 
'You should watch the episode where tea saves the world... Or the one where the Doctor actually does turn down tea when the daleks offer it to him,' he finally suggested, now wondering why he hadn't started with those ones in the first place. They would probably have been far more appealing to her. 
'I thought the daleks were the enemy?' Samar asked, still confused but now curious at last.
'Oh, they are. It was an episode where they were undercover pretending to be part of the British Army in World War Two,' Aram explained. He paused, waiting for Samar to gesture for him to continue before he did so; 'the daleks were trying to set a trap for the Doctor, but they ended up creating new daleks instead, that killed all the old ones...' Aram trailed off, now scowling slightly as he remembered the dark days of those new daleks and how much he had hated them. Samar raised a single eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden change in expression.
'Was that not a good thing?' She asked warily.
'No!' Aram wailed, causing Samar to do a double take in alarm. 'The new ones looked like Power Rangers and everyone hated them so much, that the show had to bring back the old ones the following season. It was like the real daleks had had gone through a car respray booth, whilst taking steroids… It was terrible!' Samar sighed again; that was yet another reference to go flying over her head. 
'But the daleks in those older episodes,' Samar said, gesturing at dvd cases for the earlier seasons still scattered over the coffee table from when Aram had played some of them earlier, 'looked ridiculous. They were supposed to be scary, but they weren't.' Aram huffed; the daleks in the early episodes looked that silly simply due to the poor quality of special effects available at the time, whereas the daleks in some of the newer episodes looked silly because they were so colourful. 
'It was a tragedy, ok? Daleks are supposed to be evil killing machines, not Fisher Price toys!' Aram shook his head vehemently, and Samar took that as her cue to stop asking questions again before he continued along with his tirade.   
'Ok...' Samar gently -but also somewhat awkwardly- patted his arm in an effort to calm him down, 'I believe you.' She tried earnestly to hide her smirk at just how seriously he took his dalek related dilemmas, as Aram eyed her suspiciously, wondering whether she was actually taking him seriously or just making fun of him. 'I'm going back to my book now,' she added cautiously, as Aram slowly calmed down. He let out another small huff, but didn't object as he reached for the remote and resumed the much more comforting, much less colourful-dalek-filled episode that he had been watching earlier. Samar leaned back against his side, pulling up her knees, and resting her book against them once more. Aram peeked over her shoulder for a second as she settled back against him, gazing at the pages she had been slowly turning earlier, then suddenly paused his episode again.
'Are you reading in French?' Samar didn't even shift her gaze from the book as she answered Aram's question;
'Yep.' 
'Why?'
'Because I can,' she replied, quite simply. Of course, there was also the fact that Samar just liked to keep up with her language skills so they didn't get rusty, but that was more of an afterthought or perhaps; an added bonus. Aram stared at the words on the page that he didn't understand, trying to figure out what it was that she was reading, until he spotted the name 'Watson' about halfway down. 
'Is that... Another Holmes book?' Samar let out a small sigh of exasperation. 
'Don't laugh, but yes.' Aram simply grinned. Well, at least that was one interest of his that had managed to capture her enthusiasm. 
'Where around here did you find that in French?' He asked, in stunned disbelief. Samar finally looked back at him again, her lip twitching in amusement. 
'I didn't,' she began, shooting him a wink, 'but you'd be amazed by the things I find in airport bookshops.' Samar had always enjoyed wandering around the bookshops she found at airports; looking around for the most ridiculous thing she could find next was a game she had invented during her early Mossad days to counter the inevitable boredom that always came with waiting to board her flights. The stacks of colourful book covers in all shapes, sizes, and adorned with different alphabets and languages nearly always yielded amusing results, and thus it remained a game that she still played every time she travelled now. But the difference now was; since adding a bookshelf to her apartment, Samar made a point of buying a book each time she travelled as well –just as she had that one time months earlier when she bought 'The Hounds of Baskerville' on a whim. For one, it was something to do on the plane besides sleeping, reading case notes, or flicking through the entertainment channels, but it was also a nice feeling every time she came home and added her latest discoveries to the shelf, rather than traipsing off to the library again. Aram grinned in understanding, as Samar turned her attention back to her book for what was probably the hundredth time that afternoon; so that's where her rapidly growing collection was coming from... Every so often he had noticed new books suddenly just appearing on the shelf, with seemingly no explanation. But now he thought about it, it did make sense; the appearances did seem to coincide time-wise with most of the occasions Samar went away on assignment –though not all of them. Aram's grin widened even more as he realised that was a clue; now he would know whether her assignments were far enough away to require a flight, or whether they were closer to home –regardless of whether he drove her to the airport or not. Though, he certainly wasn't about to point that out. He settled back on the couch again, finally resuming his Doctor Who episode for good, and Samar sighed in contentment as he stopped squirming and she could properly relax against his arm. Aram tilted his head to the side, to lean against hers; it all felt so weirdly normal to sit back on the couch with television shows and books, while squabbling over their differences. It was difficult to believe that just a day earlier, they had only managed to prevent a global food crisis in the nick of time. It was a nice reprieve in fact, from worrying about what might come next. Aram quickly flashed back to their conversation from the day before, as Samar continued wordlessly turning pages, wondering how many more times he would have to tell her to be safe before the Cabal was no longer a threat... He had no doubt that whatever that number was, it would be a lot.

But at least for the moment, right there on the couch, they were safe.

Chapter Text

The bright screen of Samar's phone blinked up at her as pointlessly as she stared back at it herself while she waited in the Post Office basement, leaning back against the side of her car. She was waiting for Aram to arrive as she usually did on the mornings they didn't end up carpooling, so that they could walk in together the same way they tended to leave together in the evenings. However, unlike most mornings where their arrivals seemed to line up like clockwork after a year's worth of absentmindedly establishing routine, Aram was running late.

And with seemingly no explanation.

That was precisely why Samar now found herself staring blankly down at her phone in the basement for ten minutes, flicking through emails and half-heartedly reading the news, but otherwise simply wasting time. Samar hadn't bothered to call him; she figured that Aram was probably on his way at least, whether it be by car or by bicycle, and thus he probably wouldn't answer. She had however, sent him a text just in case –and Aram's lack of response to that very text, when he was usually quite prompt in answering his phone whenever he could, was what had her hoping that he would at least arrive soon. Samar wasn't planning on waiting much longer; if Aram didn't arrive in another five minutes or so, she planned to just go upstairs to the war room without him. Not that she had necessarily planned on even waiting this long, but with the way they always seemed to arrive within minutes of each other anyway, whoever arrived first always tended to linger for those extra couple of minutes before heading towards the elevator... And those few minutes had just rolled from three, to five, to eight... And then to ten, all while Samar stood there idly staring at the day's headlines.  

'Mooorning!' Aram's voice made her gaze snap upwards as he suddenly whizzed past on his bicycle, finally slowing as he approached the bike lockers to the far side of the basement. Samar wandered across the few empty parking bays between her car and the elevator, while Aram quickly locked up his bike, and hurried over to join her just as the elevator doors rumbled open. 
'You're late,' Samar commented, as they stepped into the elevator and the doors closed behind them. 
'Yeah, I know. Sorry. I missed-'
'-Helmet,' she interjected, gesturing at the safety helmet still atop Aram's head that he had forgotten to take off.
'Huh? Oh, right,' Aram muttered. In a flash, he unbuckled and pulled the helmet off his head, only for Samar to –without even thinking about it- quickly tousle his helmet-flattened hair so that it stuck out wildly again as it usually did. All the while, Aram kept talking at lightning speed; 'anyway, I missed my alarm and woke up late because, and get this-'
'-Your tie is crooked,' Samar interrupted him again, struggling to keep a straight face as she now gestured at Aram's mauve, circle-patterned tie that was not only crooked, but half windswept backwards as well. With a small huff, Aram wrestled his apparently rebellious tie back into submission until it hung straight again, before furrowing his brow at the amused smirk that Samar was trying –and failing- not to let out. 
'You're just messing with me now, aren't you?' He grumbled. The elevator doors opened once again and still bickering, they both stepped into the war room. 
'Yep,' she chirped, and Aram simply huffed in exasperation again in response. 'Hey, I was bored. Anyway, you missed your alarm because what happened?'
'I stayed up late because Mr. Reddington gave me a case,' he said indignantly, before briefly pausing and shrugging sheepishly; 'and then, well... I slept in,'
'What case?' Aram simply glanced sideways at her walking by his side, his eyes twinkling with glee at the fact that he suddenly had the upper hand.
'Wait and see,' his chirp was almost as mischievous as Samar's had been a minute earlier, but not quite. As much as Aram enjoyed the rare opportunities he had to outdo Samar in a battle of verbal sparring, the Djinn case did have him rattled –though, not that Samar knew that yet. 'I have to talk to Ressler first.' Samar scowled in mock-annoyance. More waiting? Aram wasn't even going to give her a clue before the case briefing? Ugh! She could have said nothing and allowed Aram to walk into the war room looking like a total mess, but then Ressler would have undoubtedly made some kind of comment as well. Nonetheless, Samar dropped her bag under her workstation as Aram simply winked at her and then quickly forced a more serious expression before heading into Ressler's office.  

/*/*/*/*

'Hey, not sure when you'll be back, but do you want to get dinner? ' Samar read the text message from Aram over again, as she followed Ressler out of the Azeri Financial offices and into the SUV, ready to head back to the Post Office after interviewing the kidnapped CEO's son. Initially when Aram had mentioned Reddington giving him a case, Samar assumed that Reddington had called Aram just like he usually called Ressler. Since realising that Reddington and Liz had in fact stopped by Aram's apartment the night before however, Samar wasn't feeling quite as amused anymore. 
'Thanks, but don't worry about waiting for us this time. It's late,' she tapped out in response. Ressler continued driving wordlessly, either not caring or just not willing to ask, what it was that had her so engrossed in her phone when they usually at least tried to make small talk. 
'You sure? ' Came Aram's quick reply. Samar hesitated at that, but decided to stand her ground. 
'Yep. It's probably better if I just go straight home and get an early night, this case may take us a while.' That was only partly true. Sure, she was tired but in actuality, the reason Samar wanted to go back to her own place for yet another night in a row was because she felt hurt; the fact that Reddington and Liz had turned up at Aram's apartment had what felt like a dozen different thoughts and questions accumulating in her mind, and none of them were positive. At first, Samar had felt hurt by the notion that Red and Liz had stopped by Aram's place on a night she wasn't there, but she had quickly told herself that was silly; she and Aram didn't spend every night together, and when they did it was just as often at her own apartment as it was at Aram's. That said, Samar was still curious; was the timing of Red and Liz's sudden appearance by chance, or by design? The idea that they may have waited for such a specific night did hurt, because it meant they didn't trust her. That in turn, had Samar feeling the previously thought extinct sensation of exclusion, bubbling up inside again. Samar had thought that sensation was long gone... That since working hard to figure out where she belonged, she wouldn't have to feel so awkward with her team again. She hadn't thought about that idea in a long time; the idea of finding home that had once motivated her, had taken a backseat behind the simultaneous madness of the taskforce caseload, and the eventual progression of things with Aram. But it was now that Samar was suddenly slapped with the reality of feeling as mistrusted and excluded again as she had when she first joined the taskforce, she realised just how comfortable she now felt in DC, working at the Post Office, and with the people around her.  

It was amazing, the difference a year had made.  

Samar gazed wearily out the passenger side window, contemplating that. The inkling of joy at the realisation that perhaps, after all this time, she had found home after all, was marred by the frustration that had triggered it. It didn't help in the slightest that deep in the back of her mind, it bothered Samar just as much that Aram hadn't done his job and called it in immediately when he found Reddington and Liz in his living room. Sure, he came forward the next morning, but that was hours after they had already left and even Aram himself had admitted; it was only because Reddington had asked him to do so. Not only did that convince Samar that despite all their efforts to rise above it, the fundamental differences between her and Aram's approach to the whole Liz debacle were going to keep coming between them, but it also occurred to her as a potential reason why Red and Liz could have possibly waited to visit Aram until she wasn't there; because Liz knew Samar was more likely to demand that she turn herself in.  

And in all truthfulness, that only stung more.  

It also only emphasized the overlap between her professional, and growing personal life, that was increasing at a pace Samar was far from comfortable with. From a practicality standpoint, Samar still maintained that the safest scenario was to bring Liz in, but her internal conflict over the idea of chasing a friend was endlessly going around in circles, and it only made things a thousand times more complicated. To a certain degree, she was even glad that she was going back to her own place alone instead of going out to dinner with Aram, out of sheer curiosity to see whether or not Liz and Red showed up at his place again. Samar let out a sigh and rested her head against the window; so lost in her own thoughts that she had forgotten she was in the car with Ressler, and didn't even notice his cursory glance in her direction when she moved. Every time things started looking up, they came rapidly crashing down again, and that wasn't a road Samar wanted to go down, especially when Aram -who was probably eating dinner alone at home by this point- thought everything was fine, and was too delighted by seeing Liz again to think of the fact that the visit had Samar so frustrated.

/*/*/*/*

'Oh um, you look nice today.' That was what Aram had said to her, right in the middle of the war room... And right in front of Ressler too. It wasn't particularly great timing. That said, with traces of her frustrations from the night before still lingering this morning, Samar had gone straight upstairs from the basement when she arrived, rather than wait for Aram... And then she had found herself sent straight to the interrogation room to interview Nasim Bakhash. So, when Aram saw her standing there in the war room, ready to announce his discoveries, it was the first time he had seen Samar all day... And his usual commentaries that he normally got out of the way in the basement or the elevator, just came tumbling out. No matter how conflicted she felt, Samar had decided while making dinner and pacing back and forth across her kitchen, that it probably wasn't worth her energy to bring up her frustrations with him; it was nothing they hadn't argued about and gone around in circles with already, and she was still determined to rise above it. She hoped instead, that over the course of the next day, her annoyances would subside on their own.

And as Aram let out a goofy smile and made his observation, it was hard for Samar not to find it –and Ressler's subsequent raised eyebrows- at least a little amusing.  

Now satisfied that the case was over -and that Aram hadn't had a return visit from Red and Liz- the worst of Samar's frustrations had indeed disappeared. She ambled away from Ressler at the case board and back to her own workstation, all the while glancing around and looking for Aram. He eventually came hurrying down the stairs, flashing her a quick grin as he took the few extra paces from the end of the staircase and stopped at his own desk, but otherwise going straight back to his computers. Samar glanced around again, checking to make sure that Ressler had now wandered off from the war room and gone back to his own office, before picking up her bag from under her desk and taking a few paces of her own towards Aram.

'You ready to go?' She asked casually. Aram glanced up at her warily; he wasn't so blind that he hadn't noticed something was bothering her, and though he suspected it had something to do with the way the Djinn case came to them, he still wasn't one hundred per cent sure. Aram had braced himself for some kind of discussion about it, but that conversation never came. Rather, Samar had remained quiet on the issue which as far as Aram knew, could mean that she was either surprisingly unfazed by it all, or that she was furious past the point of yelling and on to silently seething instead. Either way, he preferred to wait it out and see what happened, rather than pushing the issue before she'd had time to think about it –just in case it was the latter. Thankfully, if her casual question and calm demeanour were anything to go by, it seemed to be the former. Aram withheld a sigh of relief as he glanced up again from shutting down his computers, and realised that Samar was still patiently awaiting an answer to her question. 
'Almost,' he said, closing his laptop and sliding it into his backpack. 'Dinner?' Samar let out a soft smile and a short nod. 
'Sure. What do you feel like?' Aram paused thoughtfully for a moment before responding;
'Thai food from that little place you like across from the park?' They never had quite managed to reschedule Samar's birthday dinner; the original restaurant's popularity still demanded that a booking be made weeks in advance, and Aram was now convinced that it was probably better to make plans closer to the present if he didn't want to run the risk of their caseload getting in the way again. But now that he thought about it, perhaps a more casual dinner followed by an evening stroll past the park and on to the ice cream parlour might be just as nice. Samar nodded again, gesturing for Aram to lead the way from the war room towards the elevators.
'That sounds good to me.'  

Chapter Text

Aram's grip on Samar's hand under the counter tightened a little. He knew she wouldn't like it if he immediately leapt to her defense -she was too determined in her preference to look after herself- but that didn't mean he was at all content to sit back and listen to the idiots at the bar give the woman he loved a hard time, without wanting to stand up for her. It didn't matter that, when it came down to it, Samar was far more capable of protecting either, or even both, of them than Aram was -Aram instinctively felt the need to protect her anyway. Samar gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, as she continued ignoring the two men at the bar. They had approached her the second Aram had temporarily left to go to the bathroom -as if they had been watching and waiting for her to be left alone- and started trying to 'win' her affections by telling her how much better they were than the 'nerd' she had walked in with. They had seemed like harmless enough idiots at first; young, paper pushers in overpriced suits from some lobby group on the hill who had just had a few too many drinks. Samar had politely rebuffed them at least three times before Aram finally returned to her side, but then they started taking her rejection badly and firing an endless stream of insults and snark in her direction, on every topic they could think of. All Samar and Aram had wanted was to go out for a drink or two after work, before going home in peace and so Samar had continued to ignore the two idiots; focusing more on forcing conversation with Aram to drown out the loud, obnoxious voices of the two men behind her, but they had proved far more stubborn than anticipated, and now she was talking through such firmly gritted teeth that Aram was worried she might actually chip one.  

And, he really wanted to tell the idiots to leave her alone.

But Samar was determined to ignore them and rise above it all, and one of the few things Aram wasn't sure about with Samar was where the boundary was between respecting her wishes in that sense, and making a stand of his own. He was a gentleman and he was still nervous about not pushing her buttons the wrong way after recent events, but he certainly wasn't a pushover, and he definitely  wasn't interested in meekly allowing the two idiots to continue their drunken tirades. As if reading his mind, Samar finally cleared her throat and turned around in her seat to face the two drunk lobbyists, right as they wrapped up a nasty string of particularly and unfortunately racist comments. 
'Ok boys, clearly you don't recognise good manners, but maybe you'll recognise,' she paused and pulled out her badge and waved it in their faces with a slight flourish, 'this.' The two idiots chortled at the sight of her badge.
'Ohhh, a tough girl!' The bigger of the two slurred happily. He took another step closer to Samar, so that he was leaning over her. She narrowed her eyes at the intense smell of alcohol on his breath as he breathed all over her, but didn't back away. 'That's ok, you're hot!' Samar scowled at that particular comment, and Aram finally stood from his seat, tightly clenching his fists.
'That's enough,' he growled. Samar glanced back at him in alarm. 'She's not interested, try taking the hint.' Samar rose from her own seat to stand beside Aram, as the two men looked Aram up and down, eagerly sizing him up. Aram was indeed tall, but one of the two hecklers was taller, and both of them had far more muscle than Aram's gangly limbs could even dream of. 
'You a fed too, pal?' The taller one asked patronisingly. Aram hesitated, and Samar shot him a warning glance. Technically, Aram was a 'fed', but not in the sense that the two idiots were intending. Samar and Aram both knew that if Aram said yes, the two idiots would take that as license to suggest taking him on 'out back' but by contrast, if he said no, their laughing and hassling of Samar would only intensify. The other idiot –the one who was slightly shorter, but had been the far more aggressive one in hurling the insults- reached out to grab Samar's arm, and Aram's eyes flashed in anger just as Samar shot the guy a look of utter contempt.

This, it seemed, was the moment Samar was waiting for to make her move.

In one fluid motion she turned, grasping the guy's arm before he could grasp hers, and twisting it sharply behind his back. There wasn't much she had been able to do while the two guys were only hassling her verbally, but by that point she also knew they also weren't going to back down unless she showed some force. So as soon as the shorter idiot made his move, Samar made her own; carefully calculating in her head just how much force she could get away with. In the case of the shorter guy, Samar now had him restrained... And painfully so. The taller idiot's eyes bugged out of his head, and he clumsily stepped forward ready to lunge at Aram. Samar narrowed her eyes, watching him take that first step. 
'-You touch him and you're assaulting not one, but two federal agents,' she quickly warned, stopping the taller idiot in his tracks just long enough for Aram to duck sideways. Samar twisted the shorter idiot's arm a little higher for added emphasis, making him yelp in pain. The taller idiot glanced hurriedly back and forth between Samar, Aram, and his partner-in-hassling; finally settling on ignoring the clearly harmless Aram and instead focusing his attention solely on Samar.
'What are you going to do, tough girl?' He taunted, 'shoot me? I don't see a gun in your hand.' Samar rolled her eyes, keeping a firm grip on the shorter guy with one hand, and using her free hand to point at the weapon on her hip. Aram stood awkwardly to her other side; ready to use the limited FBI physical training he'd had if he absolutely needed to, but otherwise bewildered by just how far things had suddenly gotten out of hand. 
'Lunge at either of us again, and I'm allowed to reach for it. Don't you see your buddy, here? I move faster than you two.' Samar locked eyes with the taller guy, daring him to try and test her non-existent patience. She couldn't actually point her gun at him yet; he was seemingly unarmed unless he had a knife stashed somewhere that Samar couldn't see, and he hadn't reached to pick up a barstool or anything else that could be potentially weaponised. It was a delicate situation, but if the guy made a move for them again despite her warnings not to, then Samar was well within her rights to up the ante. The taller guy -apparently recognising that he really didn't have control of the situation after all- huffed, and went for one last, desperate measure. 
'You can't do that, that's police brutality,' he whined. It took everything Samar had, not to roll her eyes at him again. 
'Maybe you're both a little slow, so let me spell it out for you,' she growled. 'You should have stopped at when I told you to go away. You really should have stopped when I flashed my badge, and you definitely shouldn't have tried to grab me. Once you do that it's not police brutality, it's self defence.'
'And uh, at least half the people in this bar are agents too, so um... They probably won't come to your rescue,' Aram interjected over her shoulder, and Samar shot him a look. 'Just putting it out there...' He trailed off, shrugging. The taller idiot swept his gaze around the room, suddenly noticing the array of dark coats and the tell-tale bulges underneath at the hips of everyone wearing them. It was a bar popular with all kinds of law enforcement, but predominantly FBI agents... Even the owner and barman himself, was a former agent who now ran the bar post-retirement from the Bureau. To top it off, many of them were discreetly eyeing the situation unfolding in front of them with interest; the two idiots having been more than loud enough in their hassling of Samar not only to draw attention to themselves, but also to ensure that they received no sympathy for whatever she chose to do to them. Drooping his shoulders and bowing his head bitterly, the taller idiot tugged on his friend's arm in defeat. Now satisfied that her point was made and the two suits weren't going to give her any more trouble, Samar cautiously let go of her grip on the shorter guy's arms, freeing him. She stood, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, as she watched the pair of them shuffle out of the bar, before finally resuming her seat in peace and reaching for the remains of her drink.

To her surprise, there was another, fresh one sitting right beside it.

Behind the counter, the barman met her eye and gestured at the glass, all the while mouthing 'it's on the house.' Samar nodded appreciatively in response, before glancing around the room once more. A number of the other agents at their various booths and tables now had small smiles etched across their faces; that was their bar, and none of them liked seeing a fellow agent given any kind of grief by an outsider.

Turning back to her drink, Samar had all of a minute to relish in the well-resolved situation, when her phone began to flash –the screen lighting up with a message from a high level Mossad operations number. 
'What now?' She growled under her breath. Aram glanced sideways at her, careful not to stare at whatever it was she was reading on the screen.
'Spy stuff again?' He asked cautiously, hoping to lighten the mood. Samar simply nodded, now furrowing her brow in frustration. 'Should we go?' He then added, gently this time. With a small sigh, Samar nodded again, and Aram reached for her coat where it hung off the back of her barstool, draping it over his arm. She followed him silently out of the bar, and back out onto the street. Aram watched her out of the corner of his eye, unsure whether or not to put his arm around her. They continued walking down the street, all the while Samar muttered to herself, and tapped out some kind of response on her phone.
'Sorry about this,' she said quietly, finally shifting her gaze back to him. Aram raised an eyebrow in surprise.
'The timing sucks,' he admitted, 'but it's your job. I get it.' For the first time all evening, Samar let out a soft smile.
'Thanks.'
'Listen...' Samar furrowed her brow again as Aram trailed off. 'That back there... Was that my fault? I know I probably shouldn't have stood up-'
'-No,' Samar said quickly, shaking her head and cutting him off before his words all ran into one another. 'They weren't going to stop. Once they started, all that probably would have happened anyway, whether you tried to stand up for me or not.' Aram hesitated, sensing from her voice that there was still something that bothered her.
'But?' He asked warily. 
'But, for future reference... You don't need to stand up for me like that.' Aram frowned.
'What if I want to?' Samar simply shot him a wink.
'Then I'll be sure to come to your rescue.' Aram's face suddenly crumpled in confusion as they reached their respective cars parked one behind the other along the side of the street, and Samar quickly glanced at her phone, double checking the directions to the airport.
'Aren't you going home first?' He asked curiously.
'Nope... Straight to the airport.'
'Don't you need to pack anything?' Samar let out a wry smile as she sighed. 
'I have a bag in the trunk for times like this.' Aram rolled his eyes. 
'Why am I not surprised?' Samar simply shrugged in response as she opened the driver's side door and moved to get into the car, but Aram reached for her hand, stopping her for a second. 'Hey, you know the drill,' he murmured, finally pulling her in close for the first time all evening, and quickly kissing her.  'Be safe.' Samar's lip quirked up at just how earnest he sounded. 
'I know.' Aram closed the car door behind her, then stood beside his own as he watched her drive away. Though Samar had gotten over it quickly, Aram had got the message; the boundaries were clear.  

/*/*/*/*

Samar glanced at the time displayed on her phone as she stepped out of the airport; it was a little after one in the morning. It hadn't been a particularly long assignment –she was away and back again in only twenty seven hours- but that didn't mean it was an easy one. If anything, after the awful day she'd had, Samar didn't feel like going back to an empty apartment at all. With that in mind, she reached her car, put the key in the ignition, and headed straight for Aram's.

/*/*/*/*

The sound of a car hooning past in the street outside, made Aram begin to stir. He rubbed his eyes as he woke slowly, and rolled over to wrap his arms around Samar still asleep next to him and-

Wait a minute.

Aram's eyes snapped wide open. When did Samar get there? He furrowed his brow in confusion, not even able to remember receiving a text to say she was on her way back. Nonetheless, there she was; curled up next to him, with her dark mess of curls splayed out all over her pillow, and half of his too. She even seemed to be still half dressed, almost as if she had crawled into bed too tired to change properly. Aram shook his head slightly, once again not even sure why he was surprised. He reached forward to wrap his arms around her again, and her eyes began to flicker open.
'Hey,' Samar mumbled, smiling sleepily at him.
'Did you break into my apartment again?' Aram whispered. Still half asleep, Samar didn't answer straight away.
'Didn't want...' She stifled a yawn, 'to wake you.' Aram held back a laugh; well, goal achieved. Samar had managed to break into his apartment –literally, seeing as they didn't have keys to each other's place- and crawl into bed next to him, and he hadn't awoken to the noise or movement at all.
'I think you succeeded,' he observed. Finally awake, Samar's lip quirked up as she curled into his side again, burying her face against his shoulder. 'But you know, I did improve my home security a few months ago, like you told me to... And yet, you still managed to break in.' Samar let out a small sigh.
'Aram, are you complaining, or cuddling me?' She grumbled, 'you can't have both.' Aram didn't even bother to hold back the chuckle this time.
'Not complaining... Definitely not complaining. Just making an observation.' Samar raised a wry eyebrow, then her face suddenly crumpled as she remembered the conversation they had only just had about boundaries after the incident at the bar.
'Should I not break in next time?' She asked quietly.
'Well...' Aram began matter of factly, 'that depends.' Samar shot him a wary glance.
'On?'
'Was it a rough assignment?'
'You know I can't tell you that,' she said flatly, before sighing as Aram shot her a particularly unimpressed look. 'It wasn't great, no.'
'In that case... It's ok,' he murmured. 'So tell me, what book did you buy this time?' Samar smiled as she rolled over and away from him, and reached for her bag where she had thrown it on the floor right beside the bed before collapsing the night before, quickly pulling out the latest addition to her collection and brandishing the cover in Aram's face for him to see. Just as had occurred as she left the bar, the incident was a non-issue, but the boundaries were still made clear.

Chapter Text

'Dinner?' Samar's casual question drew Aram's attention away from his computer as it always did, the habit of usually taking each evening after work by ear often being the very thing to prompt it.
'Uhh,' Aram glanced up, curious as to why she was asking on this particular day. It was one of the few days where he did actually have something else on. 'It's laser tag night, remember?' Samar slowly nodded, finally remembering; Aram was going out with his buddies from his old NSA team –the very same group they had shared a table with when she and Aram had gone to one of the guys' wedding- to celebrate one of their birthdays. Her brow furrowed, momentarily irked, but then she dismissed it. It wasn't as if he was springing this on her at the last minute, Aram actually had told her a few days earlier. Samar had simply gotten the days mixed up; after all, Aram did her tell her so many things in any given day. Not to mention, the guys had changed the date of laser tag a few times as well before eventually settling on this one; it was almost impossible for her to keep up with.  

Nonetheless, Aram noted the flash of disappointment on her face anyway.

'Did you want to come too?' He offered jokingly. Aram highly doubted she would want to, but it was such a ridiculous idea that he hoped it would amuse her enough to snap her out of her momentary funk. Samar raised an amused eyebrow.
'Aram, I was trained by Mossad.'
'So?'
'So,' she started, her lip quirking up, 'even if it was me against all six of you, I would probably still beat you.' Samar was all too aware that none of Aram's former NSA teammates had any kind of weapons training... And even Aram, despite his minimal Bureau training -and with the glaring exception of that one incident when Anslo Garrick had infiltrated the Post Office two years earlier- had still only shot at paper.  
'Oh, really?' Aram quipped, and Samar simply nodded, rolling her eyes. 'I'm going to tell them you said that.' A smug smile lit up Aram's face as he pulled out his phone, opened up the group text thread he shared with his old teammates, and tapped at the keyboard. He paused, the amusement clear on his face as he awaited some kind of response. Within seconds, at least three of them had responded with various things along the lines of 'challenge: accepted'. Aram held the phone up for Samar to read the series of virtually identical responses, all in a row, and forced himself to hold back a laugh. 'So, I guess you're coming then?' He stood from his desk, quickly switching off his computers and swinging his backpack over his shoulder, gesturing for Samar to lead the way out of the war room and towards the elevator.
'Wait, hold on-' Samar began, stumped for a second as to how she had just been roped into a night of laser tag so easily, but quickly changed her mind as Aram patiently awaited her argument –that mischievous smile still spread from ear to ear. She let out a sigh of mock exasperation, and with a small shake of her head, took the first few steps towards the elevator. It was a bit late to back out of the challenge now, even if she wasn't really the one who had perpetuated it –Samar narrowed her eyes as she observed out of the corner of her eye, Aram snickering at whatever he was typing on his phone in response to his friends- and really, they were trying to share a little more with one another... So why not give it a go?  

As the elevator doors rumbled closed in her face, Samar simply hoped that laser tag wouldn't be as confusing as Aram's ranting about Doctor Who.  

/*/*/*/*

Samar ducked behind one of the sections of half-wall scattered throughout the multi-levelled arena. Upon arrival with Aram, he and his friends announced the plan that Aram had been snickering to himself over the entire way there; they were taking her challenge seriously. It was all of them as a team, against her. Alone. And it was a challenge 'to the death', so to speak; which was to say, rather than an accumulative points scoring battle, once someone was hit, they were deactivated... And out of the game.  

So there she was, feeling utterly ridiculous in a vest covered in flashing green lights, carrying an equally flashing laser pistol.  

She peered over the edge of the wall, extending herself just enough to be able to see, but not so much that she exposed any of those flashing lights that would draw attention and make her an instant target. Really, she had found herself quite an impressive vantage point. She was on the middle floor, with views all around as well as both up and down, but she still had a relatively decent amount of cover. A flash of red lights –those attached to the vests of her overly gleeful opponents- caught her eye as it dashed past another half-wall a few feet away. Keeping her back to the main side wall, she peered around her current cover and watched... Waiting for that flash of red lights to appear again. She had already hit one of the crew, sending them trudging off to the sidelines within five minutes of the game starting, but the rest had disappeared into the darkness, and this was the first she had seen of any of them since.  

The silhouette –far enough in the distance that Samar couldn't tell which one of them it was but simply, that it was one of them- caught her eye again, as the flashing lights made a mad dash towards the open staircase, apparently having not seen her lurking. With a roll of her eyes, Samar fired, hitting and deactivating that flashing red vest with all of one shot. She smirked to herself; this was too easy. She didn't even have to hunt them down. All she really had to do was lie in wait for them to grow impatient and go running past, searching for her instead. The no longer flashing silhouette wandered away into the darkness, heading for the sidelines, cursing to himself in a voice Samar could only recognise as not being Aram's. With two down, she only had three more to catch.

And as yet another red flash darted across the level above her, visible through the sections of floor that were metal grating rather than solid wood planks, Samar simply wondered how long Aram would hold out looking for her, compared to the rest of them.

Taking out a third member of the five in such quick succession, lead Samar to discover stealth mode; the temporary halting of her own flashing lights as a reward for her expert marksmanship, and the subsequent ease of moving around the arena in the absolute pitch black, hidden from the view of the others. A fourth set of red lights ran below the metal grating at her feet, not even bothering to notice the shadowy figure lurking above him, and Samar instantly fired. Once again, it only took one shot to cue that muttering and curious glancing around trying to spot her as those red lights immediately ceased to flash and plunged whomever it was into darkness. Samar furrowed her brow, noting that the muttering voice fading as its owner walked away, wasn’t Aram's either.

That meant he was the only one left.

A grin slowly creeped its way across her face as she paused and looked around, trying to figure out where Aram would have chosen to hide himself. Slowly but surely, she sidestepped her way along, finger ready on the trigger, searching for him.  

Samar held back the revealing noise of a laugh, as she noted the sudden, tiny glow of red against one of the walls on the other side of the arena. She couldn't see Aram himself, but in an almost pitch black room, one flashing vest lit up anything around it, and the faint red glow on the wall as his vest reflected against it, was all she needed to know that he was over in that general direction, somewhere.  

That was another benefit of still being in stealth mode; there was no green glow anywhere.

Samar crept towards that side of the arena, her eyes intently tracking that red glow and its limited movements. With only Aram left, she didn't even have to worry about watching her back for any one else. She rounded another corner, and the red glow only grew clearer. He was close. Samar tilted her head slightly, trying to peer around one of the few half walls still blocking her view, and grinned at the sight of Aram's heel poking out from behind it... He had his back to her, watching and waiting for her to come from the opposite direction. She tiptoed silently, creeping up behind him. She was so close now, Samar could probably count the number of feet between them on one hand. She raised her laser pistol, ready to fire and-

There was a loud creak as she suddenly stepped on the wrong floorboard.

Aram spun around wildly, now alerted to her presence, and pointed his own pistol at her before she could fire... The two of them now stuck in a Mexican standoff.  

'You might have been trained by Mossad, but...' Aram's face lit up with glee as Samar's eyes went wide, momentarily stuck like a deer in headlights after having taken out the others so easily, 'the rest of us have played this arena enough times to know where all the creaky spots and side tunnels are.' Samar forced a calmer expression, calculating in her mind the chances of winning the standoff as Aram stood there laughing. She tilted her head again, shooting him a playful smile as she took another step towards him, and then another... And then another, all the way until she was just inches from him. 
'Very clever,' she murmured, in the most seductive voice she could muster. Finger still on the trigger of her pistol, Samar leaned forward just enough to kiss him... And Aram, apparently overtaken by either surprise or delight, instinctively dropped his own pistol.

And that was all Samar needed.

Aram's flashing lights suddenly went dark as she fired directly at the centre of his vest and then quickly stepped back.
'Hey,' he protested, pouting slightly, 'that was cheating.' Samar simply shrugged.
'No it's not, a trained agent knows to resist distractions, and how to use them to their advantage.'
'Funny you mention that,' Aram said slowly, 'I thought you were a trained agent.' Samar furrowed her brow, confused.
'I am.' 
'And yet, you didn't realise that I was letting you distract me, so that I could distract you from Max creeping up behind you.' Aram could barely contain himself, as Samar turned and glanced over her shoulder to see one more flashing red vest standing there, his laser pistol pointed directly at her. Samar gaped as she glanced back at Aram; the guys had told her on arrival, that one of their usual six was running late, and so Samar had only been looking for five.
'You said he was stuck in traffic!' She protested.
'I didn't say that meant he couldn't join the game when he got here,' Aram huffed in mock exasperation, 'he was only a couple of minutes late.' Samar raised a wry eyebrow.
'And you said I was playing dirty?' Now it was Aram's turn to shrug.
'Two can play at that game.' Samar shook her head in disbelief, as she glanced back and forth between Aram, Max, and back to Aram again.
'Where exactly do your loyalties lie, huh?' She scoffed.
'Well, I am team captain,' Aram commented, 'I could tell him to stand down, but... Do you really  want us to let you win?' He shot her a smug smile as Max quietly stood there, still holding his laser pistol ready. Aram knew all too well that Samar would hate the very idea of being allowed to win. Samar sighed, and rolled her eyes good naturedly at him.
'No... I guess not.' She turned slightly on the spot to face Max, her hands raised in surrender. It took all of a nanosecond for him to fire, thus sealing the victory for Aram's team, and causing all the lights in the arena to fade on again as the game finally ended.  

/*/*/*/*

'You guys had that entire thing strategised, didn't you?' Samar eventually piped up, standing in the bathroom doorway and eyeing him suspiciously. Though now back at her apartment again, Aram still couldn't wipe that mischievous grin from his face. She had been running the match over and over in her mind ever since they returned, trying to figure out what is was she was missing; had she crept up on Aram as planned, she would have turned in time to catch Max as well, and then she would have won. It just seemed far too lucky for Aram and his team that their entire victory would hinge solely on her stepping on that one creaky plank. Aram finished rinsing his mouth after brushing his teeth, placed his toothbrush back in its holder, and turned to face her, struggling not laugh; he had been wondering how long it would take her to figure it out.
'Yep, even down to Max being exactly two minutes late so you wouldn't count him.' Samar raised an eyebrow; two minutes was certainly precise; it was enough for the game to start without him and for her to forget to count him, but not the five minute time limit enforced by the arena, that would have excluded him from joining in the game upon arrival.
'So, you didn’t even try to hunt me down properly,' she grumbled. 
'Sure we did,' Aram laughed, shooting her a knowing look, 'but you're too good, we had to have a back up plan.'
'And so you were the sacrificial lamb, waiting to distract me just in case none of you could catch me beforehand...' Samar grinned slowly, finally understanding.
'Well,' Aram leaned back against the bathroom counter, folding his arms and looking far too pleased with himself for Samar's taste, 'we all doubted you would kiss any of the other guys to distract them.' He paused, chuckling to himself as Samar rolled her eyes, before adding; 'worth it.' Samar shook her head in disbelief, genuinely impressed, as Aram took a step away from the counter to follow her back out of the bathroom. 
'Well played,' she observed, tipping her head to him. 
'Why, thank you.' Aram's grin only widened as she leaned in and he wrapped his arms around her, assuming she was moving to kiss him again.
'I want a rematch,' Samar murmured in his ear instead, and Aram's face quickly fell.
'Really?' 
'Yep,' she chirped, smiling at him oh-so-sweetly. Aram gulped, he hadn't even expected her to enjoy the game, let alone demand a rematch, and now he had no secret tactics to his advantage. ‘But,’ Samar added, suddenly thoughtful, ‘can we mix it up a little next time?’
'How so?’
’How about we try paintball?’ Aram raised a wary eyebrow.
’Do I have a choice?’
’Nope… And thanks for the strategy tips too, by the way.' Aram grumbled in mock exasperation as she simply winked at him, finally going in for the kiss.
'Well played, yourself.'

Chapter Text

'Agent Navabi,' Aram called out, hurrying along to try and catch up with her as she rounded the corner. Samar turned on the spot, barely breaking her pace, and only pausing as Aram came to a stop in front of her. He cringed at the look on her face, instantly regretting the use of her formal title. Aram had been far too worked up over the case earlier in the day, and knew that Samar –despite her efforts not to express it, and in an attempt to maintain respect for their differences in opinion- wanted him to calm down. Plus, they were both irritated at Ressler, albeit for different reasons; Aram, because of what Ressler had said earlier about keeping Liz safe versus finding her, and Samar because of what Ressler had said about the 'despicable thugs' as she had called them, all of a whopping two seconds later. Add to that Samar's current annoyance at the interrogation, and Aram had let the formal title slip out instinctively.  

But if the look on Samar's face said any one thing besides irritation, it was that his use of her title instead of her first name stung a little.

'I don't understand half of what he's saying,' she growled, throwing her hands out to by her sides in frustration, 'I don't even know what questions to ask him.' Samar loathed being made to feel stupid just as much as she loathed being restricted from field work, and she knew Princip –or Delgado, or whatever his damn name was- was deliberately using technical terms to do just that. 
'I thought you were great,' Aram said, as earnestly as he could muster. Even he could see what Princip-Delgado-Whatever was doing, and it bothered him to see someone talk to Samar like that. He quickly shifted his gaze to observe Princip through the glass, before looking back at Samar and taking a breath; 'maybe I could talk to him.' Samar furrowed her brow ever so slightly, intrigued by the idea. No matter how irritated she was on a personal level, she couldn't let that stand in the way of the case possibly moving forward. Interrogation was far from Aram's area of expertise, but computers definitely were not... And she was running out of options. 
'Ok then,' she agreed, letting out a sigh and gesturing at the door back into the room, 'go on.'  

/*/*/*/*

Folded arms and raised eyebrows, Samar watched Aram through the glass panelling of the interrogation room. The words she didn't understand went back and forth between him and Princip like some kind of bizarre tennis match, only Samar had absolutely no idea who was winning.  

Aram seemed to know what he was doing though, and as he continued along his to-ing and fro-ing with Princip, despite that fact that he really didn't have to have offered to help in the first place, Samar was genuinely impressed. Whatever it was that he had said, it seemed that he had tricked Princip into revealing something... Just as he had tricked her at laser tag a few days earlier. Samar made a mental note to keep an eye on Aram's apparent talent for underhandedness -not that he was at all naturally inclined to manipulate people for the hell of it.

But you never know when a skill like that could come in handy.

Aram's cool façade that he had been so struggling to uphold while he questioned Princip, evaporated in a flash as he got exactly whatever information it was that he was looking for, and grinned, instantly pleased with himself. 
'Good talk,' he quipped, trying –and failing dismally- to keep playing it cool, as he turned and gave Samar a short nod through the glass. Aram rose from his seat, hurrying out of the room and only pausing to briefly glance at Princip before the door closed behind him again. It was impossible for Samar to hide her amusement at how quickly Aram had traversed from serious to his usual goofy as he reappeared in front of her, that pleased grin now plastered all across his face.  

Nonetheless she was still torn; between being amused, and being frustrated at the case and the way it was once again sending tiny fractures rippling through the foundations of their personal lives.  

/*/*/*/*

The glee however, did not last long. Aram had thought it was as simple as finding whoever it was who put Liz on the Dead or Alive website and then having them take her off of it, but as he had dejectedly explained to Reddington on the phone; Aram couldn't find Arioch Cain unless he could follow the money, he couldn't follow the money unless the bounty was put into escrow, and that wasn't going to happen unless Liz was dead... It really wasn't that simple after all.

Explaining the plan to Samar though, had been much simpler.  

Aram had been nervous about 'killing' Liz, so to speak, but Samar hadn't been fazed at all. As she had pointed out, when Aram worried about it being a bad idea and the fact that they couldn't reach Ressler on the phone; Cooper was gone, Ressler wasn't there, Liz was on the run, and that meant she was the next in the chain of command –or at least, until Ressler returned, anyway. Either way, in that moment, when Samar approved the plan, that meant the plan was happening.  

And once that was out of the way, and Aram had let himself relax a little –or rather, told himself a few dozen times that in faking Liz's death, they were protecting her the way he had wanted to- he and Samar had actually found the whole devious plan to be somewhat thrilling. But then again, and considering Samar's very particular training and skillset, what else was he expecting when they were left the only ones to hold down the fort, really?  

But after Aram let go of him, and Ressler walked out of the office a little unnerved by the sudden hug once it was all over, Aram took a slightly taken aback glance to Samar standing there by his side in that tiny room. He wasn't quite sure what to make of Ressler's words; on one hand, Ressler was just as genuinely scared as he was about the possibility of losing Liz but on the other hand, Ressler also seemed just as determined as Samar that they needed to bring Liz in if they wanted to keep her safe. Samar meanwhile, was quiet with the usual pensive expression etched across her face that always appeared when she was lost deep in her own thoughts about what was going on. Aram's gaze dropped to the ground, wondering what she was thinking about. He knew how determined Samar was in her own views, and them and his own. The fact that Ressler seemed to be firmly in agreeance with her, bothered Aram just as much as his own over-exuberance in announcing his wish to help Liz hide, bothered Samar; it meant he was even more anxious about Liz's safety, and that he was potentially outnumbered in his own quest to protect her.  

That said, he was just as determined as Samar not to let the continuing cracks in the team –and those threatening him and Samar personally- break them apart for good. Aram too, understood the others and what they were trying to do, even though he didn't agree with them, he wanted more to overlook those differences and keep everyone together.  

/*/*/*/*

They were both quiet during the drive from the Post Office to Aram's apartment... Each of them contemplating Ressler's announcement just before they left, that the Director was now supposed to be working alongside them right there in the war room. Neither of them were happy about it –though for once it was something where their frustrations were shared, rather than conflicting- and the quietness had continued throughout the rest of the evening; through dinner and doing the dishes, through going over case notes together, and even through Aram's usual viewing of Doctor Who while Samar read her book next to him.

They were both anxious about what the Director's presence meant for their caseload, and their mission to save Liz from his clutches.   

It wasn't an awkward silence but rather, a thoughtful one. There were a few odd quips here and there as they came to mind; Samar suddenly decided that despite how much she liked Aram's hair on the longer side, it was starting to grow a little too shaggy around the tops of his ears... And with a flourish that somehow resulted in the appearance of a pair of scissors from Aram-couldn't-figure-out-where, she grinned as she laughed and teasingly offered to cut those shaggy parts back. Needless to say, Aram didn't particularly want Samar taking a pair of scissors anywhere near his face, and so he said precisely as much; drolly taking the scissors from her and hiding them, lest she have any sneaky ideas while he was sleeping. It had already been made quite clear that if she really wanted to, she could easily move around at night without waking him.

But odd quips aside, the general atmosphere in the apartment remained one of contemplation... And as Samar wearily crawled into bed, there was still one thing swirling around in her mind.  

She slowly stretched back, letting out a sigh of relief at the wonderful sensation that was laying down at the end of a long day, before glancing sideways at Aram wandering out of the bathroom after having brushed his teeth. 
'I think you might be right, now...' Samar murmured, her voice barely audible. Aram frowned in confusion as he finally collapsed onto the bed beside her.
'What?'
'About keeping Liz safe,' Samar's voice rose a little louder; 'Ressler wanted to bring her in to uphold the law, you wanted to keep her out there so Reddington would keep her safe, and I thought she would be safer if we brought her in and protected her ourselves.'
'I thought you'd be glad when Ressler said every day Liz stays on the run, is another day we could lose her...' Aram mused, 'what changed?' Samar bit her lip, sighing again as she rolled on to her side to face him. 
'I was, but the Post Office isn't safe anymore now that the Director is there. The Cabal's threat against Liz is still high while she's out on the run, but now it's less safe for Liz to be at the Post Office than not.' Aram gazed back at her wordlessly as Samar tiredly closed her eyes; there was nothing more for him to say, really. The slightest ghost of a smile tugged at his lips at the idea that Samar's views were slowly drifting more in line with his own –not out of smugness or any kind of misguided sense of victory, but simply in hope that it meant that they were back on the path to getting through the whole debacle together. Aram closed his own eyes and settled back against his pillow; it was fragile ground they were treading on, and the quicker they could bring down the Cabal, the better... Before anything else happened.

Chapter Text

'I'll tell the pilot to change our heading to Pittsburgh,' declared Samar. The sound of a door opening and closing came through the phone line as Samar exited the cabin.
'Alright, thanks Aram,' Ressler's voice added, before he hung up. Aram looked up from his workstation to where the Director was pacing upstairs. He scowled, still annoyed by the way the Director had looked Samar up and down earlier that morning. Was it not enough that the Director had to invade their war room, spy on their cases and generally get in the way of their mission to protect Liz? Did he really have to be a creep as well? It had made Aram's skin crawl, and he wasn't even the one being leered at. Samar had resisted dignifying the Director's sleazy behaviour with any kind of verbal response, but Aram still knew she was definitely not happy. Hell, even Ressler noticed; Samar's body language had said everything.  

The disgust and discomfort had positively radiated from her.  

Aram glanced at the clock on the wall; it was mid-afternoon and he hadn't had lunch yet. Not that he was really hungry, but he had nothing much else to do now until Samar and Ressler came back from Pittsburgh -and he figured he could use his lunch break to undertake a mission of his own. Aram quickly locked and shut down his computer so that the Director's cronies would be less tempted to get into it while he was gone. Not that it mattered really; Aram had enough security protocols set up on his computer that he would know in a flash if anyone other than him tried to touch it. But in the meantime, he was pretty sure there was one of Samar's tops lying around his apartment somewhere, and he had just enough time to drive home and back again to pick it up.  

He paused for a second as the elevator doors closed in his face... Was ducking out to pick up another shirt for Samar a little too presumptive? Aram furrowed his brow; he didn't want to come across as wanting her to cover up, or god forbid, possessive. That's not what he was trying to do at all! He simply wanted Samar to be comfortable -which right now, she wasn't. And Aram had the power to at least leave an alternative top by her desk, just in case she decided that she wanted it later.  

With that in mind, Aram dug his keys out of his bag, ready to hurry to his car and defeat at least one tiny part of the Director's creepiness.

/*/*/*/*

It didn't take long for Aram to get home. He darted into the bedroom and reached for the pile of clean laundry sitting on top of the dresser. Surprisingly, there was not one, but four of Samar's tops mixed through the pile, plus a number of other items from her wardrobe. Aram grinned; it shouldn't be a surprise really. These days they spent at least three nights a week in the same apartment, so their clothes regularly ended up scattered through each other's laundry. But usually Aram just put Samar's things straight through the wash with his own without even thinking about it, and she inevitably would swap them out with the next lot to go in the hamper any time she stayed over. It just hadn't occurred to Aram before, to pay attention to how many of her things had actually taken up residence in his apartment.

Overall, at least half the clothes in the clean pile were hers.

Aram had no doubt that the same could probably be said for the amount of his own things that had found their way into Samar's apartment. He knew there was a bottle of his shampoo sitting alongside Samar's in her shower, and a can of his deodorant was in her bathroom cupboard too. Aram ducked his head around his bathroom door to take a quick peek. Sure enough, there were just as many of Samar's things lying around his bathroom as well. He chuckled to himself... When did that happen? Aram couldn't recall either of them making a specific decision to keep two sets of toiletries; they just sort of appeared, one by one as time went on. It was actually kind of nice. But Aram didn't have time to keep musing; for the moment he had a much more important matter to attend to.  

Which of the four shirts in the laundry pile should he take back to the Post Office?

He turned back to pile, and looked at the shirts again. The loose fitting, black t-shirt seemed an obvious choice. It was one he saw Samar wearing fairly often, presumably that meant it was  comfortable. And despite how little Aram knew about women's fashion, he knew that a plain black t-shirt would go with anything... Right? He was sure that he had heard Samar say something to that effect at some point, but then again... Aram screwed up his face, doubting himself. He decided to take two tops back to the Post Office with him, just in case. In a snap decision, he picked up a purpley-grey shirt as well, before neatly folding up both choices and tucking them in his backpack. With that out of the way, Aram ran back through the apartment, only stopping to lock the front door behind him, and hurried back to his car.

Now he just had to hold down the fort until Samar and Ressler got back.

/*/*/*/*

The Director resumed his hawk-like position by the upstairs railing the second that Samar and Ressler marched out of the elevator and back into the war room. Samar shuddered as the two of them, followed by Aram, wandered into the side office for privacy; she could practically feel the Director's gaze on her skin. Ressler glanced over his shoulder at the Director, shooting him a glare almost as ferocious as the one Aram wanted to send in the same direction. 
'Ugh, I wish he would stop looking at me like that,' Samar muttered. 
'Not that I think you should need it, but I do have something that might help,' Aram commented. He pulled the two tops out his bag, and Samar let out a sigh of relief, understanding straight away what Aram had done. She could have kissed him, right there on the spot, but they were at work- and Ressler was right next to them. It would have to wait until later.  

Wait... Ressler was right next to them!

Oops. Aram hadn't thought of that. Samar glanced at Ressler's raised eyebrow and quickly interjected;
'Oh, I left my keys with Aram before we left in case he had time to stop by my place for me.' That was a flat out lie, but how else could they explain it? 'Thank you,' she added as she turned back to Aram and took the black t-shirt from his hands. Aram noted the choice and internally patted himself on the back for having picked that one first. Samar glanced at Ressler before rushing out of the room so she could go to the bathroom and change. They still had a few important case-related details to discuss, but that was something else that could wait until later. For the moment she just felt gross and couldn't wait to change. Her jaw clenched as she walked straight past the Director, well aware that his eyes were following her all the way across the war room.  

Getting him out of the Post Office as soon as possible was almost right at the top of her priority list now, second only to keeping Liz safe.  

Chapter Text

Samar walked away from the pier without looking back. She didn't know what Reddington was planning for her brother exactly, nor did she care. Her head was spinning from the events of the day, all of it turning into one awful, messy blur in her mind. Samar just kept walking- not with any particular destination in mind, she just needed to process it all and walking gave her a sense of moving forward through it. After what seemed like an eternity, she reached a small park. Samar stopped for a moment to catch her breath, before collapsing onto one of the benches. With a sob, she buried her face in her hands. She reflected on what had happened; she had discovered her brother was alive, only to find out he was the terrorist that she had been hunting for years... The terrorist that had killed her partner in Cairo and very nearly killed her  too... The very same terrorist that had killed so many of her old team today as well... Samar ran her hands anxiously through her hair. What did that even mean? That her life for the last six years was a lie? That everything that had motivated her, everything that she had fought for... Was wrong? And she had been so sure of what she thought was right and wrong. Samar began to doubt herself... What if she was somehow to blame for all the anger that had led Shahin to betray their family? And then another thought crossed her mind.

Aram.

Had she been wrong to avoid relationships for so long? Or , had she been wrong to start one now? They had been under enough of their own stress recently, with all their disagreements over Liz, but now... Samar thought back on the stresses of the day again. In the worst part of the day, right as she realised the truth about her brother, what had she done? She had kissed her old partner.

And he'd been shot, nearly killed, as a result of the distraction.

With all that in mind... Samar began to wonder; were she and Aram doing the right thing? Probably not, if her first instinct in times of great stress was to passionately kiss the first person to walk past her that she had an even vaguely emotional connection with. Samar cursed herself internally for that moment of weakness. And, a sudden terrifying thought came to mind, what if her relationship with Aram put him in danger too? Her recklessness had put her in danger enough times as it was, but what about Aram? He just cared so fiercely about everyone, and he was such a gentle soul. As many difficulties as they'd been having lately, Samar couldn't bear the idea of Aram ever being hurt as a consequence of her actions. Samar let that realisation sink in, before another one hit her like a freight train; she'd been out of contact for hours and nobody knew where she was. She needed to call in.

But that meant talking to Aram.

Samar sighed miserably as she pulled out her phone. Was she really about to do this? She stared at the screen; the one that said she had over a dozen missed calls- most of which were from Aram. She sighed again and hit the dial button.

/*/*/*/*

Aram was frantically working at his computer, trying to find something, anything really, that would help him find Samar. He had held up his promise not to worry about her so much when she was in the field, but today was different. It was personal for her. And ever since he had heard that Samar was missing... That her brother was the terrorist... He had felt particularly uneasy.

And then his phone rang.

Aram glanced at it without thinking, only to do a double take at Samar's name flashing on the screen. He lunged at it, frantically hitting the 'accept call' icon before it rang out.
'Aram...' Aram's breath caught in his throat at the sound of her voice. It was shaky, and fraught with emotion.
'You're alive!' He gasped. Samar didn't respond. The line, though still open, went silent. Aram could hear her breathing -just- but there were no words. 'What's wrong?' He asked worriedly.
'...We can't do this anymore,' she finally managed to get out between anxious breaths. Aram felt like he'd just run head first into a wall, only to step back and do it all over again. Was she saying... What he thought she was saying? He stepped away from his desk and ducked behind one of the Post Office's larger supporting columns for privacy.
'Samar...' He started quietly, 'please, don't do this.' He had anticipated that the day's revelations about her brother would send her spiralling, but he hadn't expected this. Despite all their disagreements recently, all he wanted right now was to hold her close and comfort her.
'I have to,' she said back, almost at a whisper now. 'I have to protect you.' Aram furrowed his brow. Huh?
'From what?'
'From me,' Samar choked back a sob. 'My life is too complicated... Too dangerous. If we keep doing this, you're going to get hurt.' Aram's eyes welled up. In no universe did that insane logic make any sense to him, but clearly Samar was in a dark headspace.
'Sami-'
'No,' she cut him off, his rare use of her nickname only making her heart ache even more, considering the events of the day with Levi. 'Please, don't try to change my mind. This is how it has to be.' That struck a chord. Aram flashed back to the last time he'd heard that phrase from her- back when they first started getting to know each other. Aram had thought those days were over, but then again... Today was bringing back every bad memory Samar had ever had. 'I just,' Samar paused for a moment, 'need time. I need to get through this all over again. And I need to do it alone.'
'Samar...' Barely audible this time.
'I'm sorry, Aram.' Samar hung up before Aram could even respond. He tried to pull himself together as he saw Ressler exiting the elevator and heading towards him. He put his phone down as Ressler looked at him expectantly. They did still have work to do, after all.
'That was Agent Navabi,' he said, choking back a sob. 'She's ok.' Ressler gave him a weird look, but clapped him on the back anyway. Of course, Samar wasn't ok- not really. But as far as Ressler was concerned, Samar was alive. And that meant she was, for all intents and purposes, ok.

/*/*/*/*

Samar shoved her phone back in her pocket, as deeply as she could. She pushed her hair off of her face in frustration. The shockwave of everything that had happened, and what she had just done, finally hit her. She knew it was for the best. They needed to concentrate on keeping Liz alive, and she needed to concentrate on figuring things out; neither of which would work if she and Aram had to worry about each other as well. The extra distraction would have consequences, as would the recklessness of her current state of mind. With a deep breath, she stood up again, holding her head high in determination.

/*/*/*/*

The Post Office was nearly empty by the time Samar got back. As expected, Aram had already left, rather than wait for her. But it hadn't taken long for Ressler to find her. She stood in the office doorway by his side, just watching him stare at her in response to her suggestion. She was already wondering if her decision to go this alone was a mistake but... She couldn't change that now.

Or could she?

Samar flashed back to a time where she used to handle everything alone. That time ended when she met Aram. She had become accustomed to his company, the comfort of having him by her side, far quicker than she would have expected. And it was only now that she no longer had that, that she realised just how much she needed the comfort of human contact.

But she couldn't turn to Aram for that now.

Samar steeled her resolve. There was a reason she had decided to end things with Aram, and she needed to stick to it. But Ressler... Ressler was right there. Ressler didn't need her protection... He was unattached... And he was hurting just as much as she was. Samar tried to justify the idea to herself before it went any further. They could seek comfort in each other for one night, right? It had been a long day. And technically, she had just broken up with Aram so... It technically wasn't wrong. There, it was justified. Ressler leaned over to whisper in her ear.

'My place?' He asked. Samar just nodded. Ressler stepped out of the office, heading towards the elevator.

And Samar followed.

Chapter Text

Samar slumped back against the bed with a sigh as Ressler walked out of the bedroom, finally leaving her alone. Well... Now she was in a right, sorry mess of things. The shock of everything that happened the day before had finally worn off, and now Samar was faced with returning to the taskforce and resuming work as normally as possible. How was that an even vaguely realistic expectation? It wasn't, not even slightly. But the reality was that the taskforce, with Liz on the run and the high security clearances necessary to combat the Cabal, now had a significantly higher workload but considerably less manpower. And that meant that Samar had to go to work, regardless of how she was feeling.

Not only that, but she had to go to work and face both Ressler and Aram.

Samar wasn't looking forward to that, at all. Ressler had left with a wink and a kiss, happily observing that the night before was 'nice', and Samar had instinctively voiced her agreeance with his assessment without really thinking about what either of them were saying; her mind was already preoccupied with other, more pressing concerns. But, she finally thought about it for a moment, in reality it wasn't as satisfying as she thought it would be. Sure, she got everything out of it that she had hoped for at the time -the physical side of things had been enough, in a cause and effect manner of speaking-  but the reality was that she and Ressler had no real emotional connection. It wasn't like with Aram, where his sensitivity and gentleness made things as beautifully sweet and emotional as they were physical. With Ressler, the only emotion had been frustration- the two of them taking out their anger and misery on each other's bodies repeatedly until they were both too exhausted to continue. Put simply; the stress of the moment had been relieved -just. But in the end, Samar had found no real comfort in Ressler at all.

If anything, now she just felt... Hollow.

But Ressler, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine. In fact, if anything, he actually seemed somewhat cheerful. So clearly, he wasn't feeling the emptiness that she was. Samar could only hope that it didn't lead to him expecting anything more, or any odd behaviour at work. And then of course, she had to work with Aram after having just broken up with him. No allowances would be made for her there; they weren't supposed to have been in a relationship in the first place. Samar bit her lip as she pushed back the bed covers and got up to start getting dressed so she could go home.

She was just going to have to take this day one step at a time.

/*/*/*/*

Aram watched Samar walk away from his desk, feeling nothing but confusion and concern. Ressler had asked him to run the search history on his laptop, and that was weird enough without considering the fact Aram had very quickly found that the laptop was last accessed from Ressler's own apartment early in the morning. Then Samar had walked in. And, not only had she tried to act as normal as possible- her overly casual 'hey' was more than enough to signal to Aram that he should try to do the same, and so he did- but she had freely admitted to being the one who ran the search on Ressler's laptop. And then, she had lied. Quite blatantly in fact, about how she'd ended up using Ressler's laptop. Why had Samar been at Ressler's apartment so early? How and why did Ressler figure out that she had used his laptop, in the time between him leaving his home and arriving at work? And generally speaking, what the hell was going on?

All Aram could figure out, was that Samar was hiding something from him. Something significant. And if she was at Ressler's apartment that early... Aram thought back to the way she had just squeezed his hand... He didn't particularly like what he thought that meant; that they had spent the night together. Was that why she broke up with him? Because she was seeing Ressler? Aram quickly shook that thought from his mind. Samar had her own very particular sense of what was right and wrong, regardless of whether not that happened to coincide with the constraints of the law, but Aram was sure that cheating on someone would definitely fall into Samar's idea of 'wrong'. So then, this had to be new.

Aram wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He certainly did not like the fact that she had just lied to him, only to squeeze his hand five seconds later. He also didn't like the idea of Samar sleeping with Ressler, but... If Samar had already broken up with him by that point, then did he really have a say in the issue? Samar was her own person, who made her own decisions. How Aram felt about those decisions didn't matter. That didn't mean he was ok with them -he most definitely was not ok with them, in fact, he was incredibly hurt- but he knew that it was pointless to think that Samar owed him anything by this point, or that he had any right to tell her what she should and shouldn't do. She had made it very clear that their relationship was over.

And yet no matter how much he tried to rationalise the whole complicated mess, he still couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal.

Samar, by this point, was very pointedly busying herself in her work. Anything really, to avoid talking to either Aram or Ressler. Aram focused on his computer screen, trying to figure out what to do with the information he had just learned. He knew where Liz was, and he knew that Samar knew where Liz was. His job was to tell Ressler straight away, but he had promised Samar to do to exact opposite. And he was angry at the pair of them.

Telling Ressler meant outing Samar, but also Liz. Whereas, withholding the information meant hiding Liz’s whereabouts and having something to hold over Ressler, but it also meant protecting Samar. And frankly... If Ressler knew his computer had been searched recently, he probably already knew that Samar was the one who ran the search- he just wanted to know what she had searched. Not to mention, if Ressler did know it was Samar who had used his laptop, he would undoubtedly figure it out straight away if Aram tried to lie and cover for her anyway, and that wouldn’t be good thing for any of them. In which case, Aram had the perfect opportunity to both express his annoyance and help Ressler find and protect Liz, and that last one was ultimately the goal here. He wasn't interested in being part of any kind of conflicted triangle, but now that he had found himself stuck in one anyway... So long as he could ensure Liz would be safe, Aram knew he couldn't keep the information to himself just for Samar's sake. He had to do his job.

With that in mind, Aram picked up Ressler's laptop, and hurried towards his office.

/*/*/*/*

'I want you gone by the end of the day,' Ressler seethed. Samar stared back at him, jaw clenched, not even bothering to argue. Aram's face fell, he could barely process what was happening. Samar was the one that tipped Liz off? And now she was being fired, all because he had let his own feelings get in the way. Samar turned to glance at him; she knew what he had done, that much was obvious. But there was no anger on her face, just disappointment. Aram's eyes fell to the ground, instantly and irrationally blaming himself, as Samar turned and marched away without the slightest trace of visible regret. Once again, Samar's own personal sense of justice was what was guiding her today. Aram couldn't get over that look on her face though. The second Ressler fired her, Aram had expected Samar to be furious at him, and he would have accepted it too. But her unexpected, silent disappointment was actually scarier.

And it made him feel even worse.

/*/*/*/*

Samar handed in her badge and weapon without a word. It wasn't what she wanted, nor what she thought was fair, but how she felt wasn't going to change anything. This was happening now, whether she liked it or not, and she had to deal with that. She turned around ready to leave, only to see Aram standing there.
'Hey.. You ok?' He asked.
'I'll be fine,' she said flatly, and walking straight past him.
'Anything I can do?'
'I'm good.' Aram watched her continue walking past him for a moment, before turning to follow her.
'I never would have said anything if I knew this was going to happen,' he said hurriedly. Samar stopped in her tracks, and finally turned to face him.
'You said you weren't going to say anything at all,' the same flat, disappointed voice came as she crossed her arms.
'I know, and I am sorry,' Aram started before lowering his voice, 'but you lied.' Aram really was upset by the idea that his actions may have contributed to the situation, but that still didn't change how equally upset he was by what Samar had done; she had lied to Ressler and she had lied to him. Samar just stared at him for a second before lowering her eyes in defeat. This wasn’t the way she would have wanted Aram to find out about her night with Ressler. Aram looked away for a second before continuing, 'you said Agent Ressler's laptop was on your workstation,' he looked back at Samar, 'and we both know that is not the truth. The IP address where your search originated... It was Agent Ressler's apartment... Early this morning,' he paused, 'way early as hell.' Samar could barely manage to look at him, but she knew she owed him that much. She had made her own decisions. She wasn't fired because of what Aram had told Ressler, she was fired because she went behind Ressler's back and then lied about it- and she knew that. For all her recklessness and choices to only operate within the law as it suited her, Samar was at least well aware that her actions had consequences, and she was content to accept them. Sure, she was disappointed that Aram had said something when she had asked him not to, but she didn't blame him. She was the one that had put him in that awkward position. And on top of that, she couldn't get over how despite knowing that she had lied as well as what she had done with Ressler, Aram tried to stand up for her. That was far from something he had to do. If anything, it had made Samar wonder if Aram was perhaps far stronger than she initially thought.

So regardless of whether her decision to sleep with Ressler was right or wrong -though given the circumstances she was starting to lean far more towards 'wrong' now- Samar felt that she at least owed it to Aram to look him in the eye when he confronted her.

'Aram, I'm sorry,' she said. She didn't need to mention anything specific. She was sorry for lying, and generally for the whole mess they now found themselves in, and Aram understood that. Aram just looked at her with the same disappointment and gave a small nod.
'Yeah, me too.' Samar turned to walk away and Aram didn't stop her. The agents that had been supervising her all day as she packed up her things, followed Samar to the elevator, not backing away until she had stepped through the doors. She turned to look at Aram one more time before the doors closed, and took in the expression on his face. It was a difficult one to see. Aram was always the optimistic one, the one who supported, cared about and believed in all of them, all the time, no matter what the situation was. To see him so miserable and genuinely disappointed in her now... That was...

Significant.

Aram just stood, rooted to the spot in the middle of the war room as Samar got into the elevator and turned to look back at him before the doors closed. It was the first time he had ever seen Samar -the most determined, strong-willed, member of the team, who never doubted her actions because she always did what she thought was right- show any kind of regret for something she had done. Aram's heart ached slightly as the elevator doors closed in Samar's face. He wasn't angry at her anymore. He was hurting, a lot... But he wasn't angry.

And neither was she.

They had both made some unfortunate, emotional decisions in the last day or so, and nothing needed to be said for them to know that they both understood that. They could both make their own decisions; neither of them could criticise the other for making a mistake, because they both had. And they both knew, that in a way, they were each responsible for their own regrets. It was a particularly painful sense of understanding, but it was an understanding nonetheless. It was going to take time for them to get through the mess they now found themselves in, but at least they were on the same page.

Chapter Text

The front door closed behind Samar with a little more force than intended, but she didn't look back. It had been a long day, and now all she really wanted to do was sleep. Really, it had been a long few days, and she was set for another one tomorrow -when they would finally put Reddington's plan into motion, but for now the priority was rest. She headed straight for her bedroom and quickly undressed, then reached for the pyjama pants and old shirt that lay scattered over the end of her bed. She pulled them on, and instantly froze; the shirt was one she had stolen from Aram.

And it still smelled like him.

She frowned, perplexed as to how it was possible that she hadn't noticed that in the last few nights. But, it did make sense. Today had only been her first day not working for the taskforce. Last night she had come home after being marched out of the Post Office, and fallen asleep after curling up on the couch  while still dressed in her office clothes. And of course the night before that, she had spent with Ressler. So, this really was the first time that she was pulling on her pyjamas since breaking up with Aram. She hurriedly yanked the shirt off and threw it across the room in frustration, before turning on the spot and looking around the room for another shirt. Any shirt really, just so long as it was decidedly hers, and therefore unlikely to assault her senses with a scent that she wasn't ready to deal with. She picked up her white tank top from where she had thrown it onto the floor in a rush yesterday morning when she stopped by home on the way to work from Ressler's apartment, and gingerly raised it to her nose, before quickly recoiling in disgust. Ugh. It smelled vaguely like Ressler. Or perhaps, now that she was overtired and frustrated, she was just imagining it. But either way, she tossed it across the room in the same direction as she had Aram's old shirt -and with the same intensity. Finally, she settled on a navy blue tank top. It had been buried at the bottom of the laundry pile that was now strewn halfway across the room, but that at least meant she hadn't worn it in a while. She pulled it over her head, relieved by the inoffensive smell of fabric softener, then collapsed onto her bed without even bothering to turn down the covers. She stared up at the ceiling in complete and utter disbelief at how much her life had just been turned upside down in the space of three days. Three days ago everything was normal, or at least; as normal as one could consider working the Crispin Crandall case with the Director smugly strolling around the war room. A day later, she had discovered that her brother was alive and a terrorist, she had kissed her ex, broken up with Aram, and then slept with Ressler. The very next day, she had been fired. Then today... Reddington had called early, before she'd even had time to process, wanting to meet. On the plus side, the heist to retrieve the missing care package had been a great distraction; Reddington's antics always amused her. But by the time the heist was over and he had them all gathered at the warehouse to explain the final plan to abduct the Director... Samar needed time to breathe.  

It had been a whirlwind.  

She angrily brushed away a tear. Now was not the time to have a breakdown. The priority now was to rest, then play her part in Reddington's grand plan to exonerate Liz. Only after that, could she take the time to sort out everything else. Although... She still had to work with Aram tomorrow. Samar couldn't decide how she felt about that. On one hand, she missed him, and she was already regretting having suddenly broken up with him in a moment of panic without taking the time to properly think about it. But on the other hand, the trust between them was damaged; maybe not entirely shattered, but definitely fractured. Seeing him there in the warehouse talking to Cooper when she walked in... That was... Difficult . She had wanted to talk to him, anything to fix the tension... But she hadn't known what to say. Then there was the way he had pointedly looked at her as he lingered on the phrase 'team-player'… That was simply infuriating. Samar gritted her teeth; she missed him and she was hurt by him. She understood him, but she was annoyed at him. She loved him, but she hated him. She wanted to fix things, but she didn't know how. And most importantly; she wanted to figure it out, but she also wanted to sleep. She growled under her breath as she reached for the lamp to turn off the light, then closed her eyes, trying to force all thoughts from her mind so she could sleep.

Her internal conflict would have to be dealt with, one decision at a time.  

/*/*/*/*

Aram arrived home at almost the same time Samar had. His stomach rumbled as he pushed his bicycle through the front door and closed it behind him. He ran upstairs into his apartment and headed straight for the kitchen; with all that had happened during the day, he'd barely eaten since breakfast. He opened the fridge, glancing inside at the now semi-bare shelves -with all that had happened in the last few days, he hadn't had a chance to go shopping for groceries- and a tupperware bowl at the back of a lower shelf caught his eye. He pulled it out to take a better look at what was inside; lentil soup. Samar's lentil soup. She had made it a few nights ago, after the Crispin Crandall case... And because she knew it was one of both of their favourites, she had made enough to leave leftovers in the fridge. Aram popped it in the microwave, determined not to feel sentimental about a simple bowl of soup. If he didn't eat it soon, it would spoil. Plus, there really weren't that many options left in the fridge and frankly, he was hungry and it was a very tasty soup. The microwave beeped; Aram took the bowl, set it down on the table, and raised the first spoonful to his lips. He closed his eyes, savouring the flavour. He wasn't sure why, but there was just something about Samar's recipe that made it better than any other. Aram opened his eyes again at that sudden thought, frowning at the bowl in front of him; unless they resolved their differences, this would be the last time that he'd ever enjoy her cooking. He quickly shook that thought from his mind; he didn't want to think about it. He tried to think about something... Anything else, and the events of the day flashed through his mind; the helplessness he had felt being the only one left in the Post Office to protect Liz earlier in the day... The look on her face when he pointed his gun at the Director, and the way the Director had sneered at his trembling... Aram scowled at the thought; he still couldn't believe that not only had he raised the gun to another human being - again , but that he had been without a doubt, willing to use it. He wondered how the day would have gone differently if he had actually pulled the trigger... Or if Samar hadn't been fired a day earlier. She, undoubtedly, would have pointed that gun without even a nanosecond of hesitation. Aram pushed the thought from his mind; all the 'what if's' from his near Post Office siege would have to wait for his return to the agency mandated psychiatrist who was probably already expecting him.  

He flashed instead to Reddington's sincerity at the cemetery, and then his gathering at the warehouse to discuss his plan to abduct the Director... And the way Samar had rolled her eyes at him. That had stung. Though presumably, she had taken his usage of the phrase 'team-player' as a dig at her. Aram hadn't intended it that way, but they were both well aware that he was still hurt and frustrated by her lying, so he'd regretted his choice of wording the second he said it. Or perhaps she rolled her eyes at him because she thought he was hesitant about Red's plan? Aram pondered that idea for a second, suddenly doubting himself. Did she really think he would back out of a plan to help save Liz? After all that had happened at the Post Office today? Surely she knew him better than that. But then again, she was going through her own, very particular hell at the moment, so to a certain degree it was understandable that she would be irrationally cranky. Aram shook his head again, as his took the last gulp of soup. Why, when there were so many things going on, did his thoughts keep circling back to Samar? He was hurting badly, but he didn’t want to be angry at her, Aram knew that much. He was too tired, and it wasn’t in his nature to stay angry for long; as far as he was concerned, being angry didn’t change what had happened, and it only made him feel even worse, when all he wanted was to wake up and find the whole mess was just one awful nightmare. Aram tried instead to focus on mulling over Reddington's plan to take down the Director. That was the priority. They needed to save Liz, then he could deal with his conflicting feelings over Samar.

For now, as much as he was deeply hurt by her actions, and as much as he was frustrated by the feeling that he couldn't trust her anymore, Aram simply missed Samar. And he knew that he still loved her... Or at least, he wouldn't be over her any time soon.  It was too soon after that fateful phone call, to be over her just yet...

That was why, of all the possibilities, he had changed the passcode to Navabi.

Chapter Text

Another day been and gone, one of a handful since Liz was exonerated and Ressler had handed back the Assistant Director's office to Cooper. The Post Office was quiet; no longer working on tracking down Liz, but not yet back to full working force. Aram stared in boredom at his computer screen, unsure what the point was in him turning up each morning to sit around at his desk and do nothing all day, every day until Liz and Reddington returned. Ressler came and went multiple times throughout each day, though Aram had no idea where he was going or what he was doing; they had little to talk to each other about and frankly, Aram wasn't sure he really felt like talking to Ressler anyway. Ressler had insisted on Cooper being reinstated immediately after Liz was exonerated, but he had neglected to say -or do- anything about Samar's absence, and that bothered Aram. Sure, Samar had done the wrong thing by lying to them, and her dismissal from the taskforce was justified at the time, but given the circumstances... No matter how Aram felt about Samar on a personal level, on a professional one he was sure it was time that she be given her job back. Not only was she an integral part of the team, but she didn't have to stick around to help exonerate Liz after being fired. Samar could easily have walked away at that point without looking back, and taken the time to focus on grieving for her brother's loss instead, but she didn't. Samar had held her head high, and helped get the job done. If that didn't prove that the team needed her to come back and how loyal she was to them, Aram couldn't think what did. Yet, Ressler continued to wander around the Post Office, almost as if he was pretending she didn't exist. Aram glared at the computer screen in frustration; it just wasn't fair.

Then an idea occurred to him.

He glanced around the war room nervously, before tapping away at the keyboard to check something. Sure enough, his workstation computer still had remote access to Ressler's computer after having run the search history almost a week ago. Aram took a deep breath; could he really get away with this? He rolled his eyes at his own question; of course he could get away with it, he was more than capable of hiding his tracks with anything tech. But was it the right thing to do? That was trickier. It was more along the lines of 'the wrong thing for the right reasons', but that was good enough for him. Those lines were already well and truly blurred at the Post Office.

And with that decision made, Aram opened up a blank Status Report file under Ressler's name, and began to write.

/*/*/*/*

The elevator doors opened and Samar stepped uneasily back into the Post Office for the first time since the day she was fired. She wasn't entirely sure why she was there; she hadn't received any official Bureau notice of reinstatement, nor had Cooper mentioned anything on the subject when he called her earlier in the morning. He had simply called to say that Liz and Reddington were expected to return to the Post Office, and that she was required to report in as per usual. It was odd, really. Nonetheless, Samar dropped her bag under her workstation desk and spotted her FBI badge and ID sitting on the tabletop, waiting for her. Huh. So she had been reinstated... But why? And how? Samar sat down at her desk, and cautiously looked around the war room, wondering where everyone was and whether there was a new case from Reddington.

She eyed Ressler as he marched into the war room from one of the offices to the side, locking eyes with him as he spotted her and did a double take. Samar kept her expression neutral, watching Ressler's reaction. For a split second, he seemed genuinely surprised to see her there, but he dismissed it and took his place at his own workstation without a word. Aram strolled into the room right behind him, shuffling through the pages of a file in his hand as he walked. Samar caught his eye when he looked up, and he stopped just short of his desk, staring at her curiously for a second. Samar gave a small nod of recognition, and Aram did the same before taking the last step to his desk and focusing on his work. That was interesting; unlike Ressler, Aram didn't seem at all surprised to see her. Nor did he appear to object to her presence. Samar tried not to let her relief at the latter show. Though she still wasn't sure what to say to him, she was glad that they might at least be able to work together without too much of an issue.

Aram kept busying himself at his desk, eager to avoid Samar and Ressler realising that he was in reality, silently observing all the comings and goings in the Post Office. He glanced over the top of his workstation at Samar, still sitting at her own station and gazing absentmindedly at everything as well. Dark circles sat heavy under her eyes; she had covered them up with enough makeup to fool most people, but Aram recognised the subtle difference and knew it meant they were there. He had seen them enough times before to know -after all, that was what happened any morning after a night spent grappling with her nightmares. He filed that piece of information away in the back of his mind, hoping desperately that it didn't mean Samar was having the same difficulty sleeping that he was.

The sound of the elevator doors opening and closing turned his attention away from Samar, and over to his right. His eyes went wide, spotting Liz nervously exiting the elevator, bypassing them entirely, and then heading straight for Cooper's office. He watched Liz disappear behind the heavy office door before glancing back at Ressler and Samar.

They all looked back at each other at the same time.

Aram quickly shifted his gaze back to his computer to avoid any conversation with the others that would inevitably only be prompted by the awkward eye contact, only for them to do the same. Aram furrowed his brow; they were all happy to see Liz return safe and well, but it seemed to have come at the cost of their happiness to see each other. The proverbial broken pieces of the vase had been placed back together, but the cracks were still there.

They still had a long way to go in getting the taskforce back to normal.

Chapter Text

Samar crept towards the front door of the strange apartment as quietly as she could. After ducking through the door and closing it behind her, she leaned back against the hallway wall for a moment to quickly pull on her boots before continuing on her way. Out of sheer frustration at herself, and in a desperate attempt to feel as unattached and independent as she had before joining the taskforce, Samar had spent the one meaningless, emotionless night with a stranger picked up from a local bar. She had deliberately resisted asking his name... As soon as she knew he was as uninterested as she was in anything more than one night of stress relief, that was all she had needed to know. Once upon a time, and back in the days where she had kept people at an arm's length, that was all she needed at the end of a rough day... But now it wasn't enough. Once again, she felt hollow.

And for some ridiculous reason that she couldn't quite put her finger on, but was driving her crazy nonetheless, she also felt miserable.

Samar held her head high as she marched down the hallway, down the stairs, out of the building, and finally arrived at her car parked outside in the street -all the while reminding herself that she had left Aram, and she was completely independent... She could do whatever she wanted, and there was no need to feel guilty. But in all honesty, the idea of whether her actions were right or wrong, wasn't really why she felt miserable. What bothered her more, was the fact that it wasn't enough anymore... That she had allowed herself to give in to temptation and grow close to Aram after so many years of not letting people in. Aram had crawled his way under her skin, and found himself a place there. Picking up a stranger in a bar for the hell of it just didn't cut it anymore. No longer was it just about the feeling to know she was alive but rather, the feelings... The way that he loved her, and she loved him... And the way she could so happily wake up to those familiar arms wrapped around her like a bear that her face lit up with a soft smile, rather than waking up instantly on guard and awkwardly shuffling away from whatever strange apartment she found herself in before anyone else noticed. The emotional connection that she had never before felt she needed, was now all too important. It was an entirely new level of comfort Samar had become accustomed to, and now nothing else quite managed to match it.

With a small sigh, she turned the key in the ignition, ready once again to make the silent drive alone back to her own place before work.

/*/*/*/*

'I don't deserve a friend like you,' Samar observed, earnestly holding Aram’s gaze. The night before, flashed through her mind as she said it. After everything that had happened recently, she was amazed that he was still adamantly looking out for her when really, he didn't have to. The second Cooper had described the words in the status report as 'eloquent', Samar had suspected things were not quite as simple as Cooper assumed. That wasn't to say Ressler was unintelligent, but he certainly did not have a particularly eloquent way with words either. It did however, sound exactly like something Aram would write. She had mentioned it to Aram the first time, simply to see whether he would give up the information that would either confirm or deny her suspicions, voluntarily. Unsurprisingly, he upheld his cover... But Samar did quietly note the dejected look on his face when he thought she had believed him, and she knew exactly what it meant.

He wanted her to know the truth, but he didn't want to take credit.

Mentioning it then to Ressler was for two reasons; the first, to see if he knew about the report and agreed with it or not, and the second, to see exactly where he thought they stood with one another. Just like him, if Samar had to be a part of Red's wildcard taskforce, she wanted to have a clear idea of who and what she was dealing with... And once again, she was unsurprised by the response. But by then, her suspicions had been proven correct.

'Maybe not,' Aram said, a teasing grin instinctively etching its way across his face before he even realised it. He quickly dropped his gaze to his desk for a second, before glancing back again and taking on a more sincere tone; 'but... You have one.'

Samar smiled back at Aram for a split second before Cooper's voice rang in her ears again, the two of them locking eyes in continued wordless understanding; she was still bitter about Shahin, and still struggling to come to terms with the reality that her brother wasn't who she had thought he was, but she was sure now that she would manage to get through it. By contrast, Samar was also even less sure now that she had made the right decision to leave Aram so suddenly... Without thinking it through. She was already regretting it, but she still wasn't ready to admit that to herself yet... Meanwhile Aram knew exactly where she was up to in regard to coping with what had happened –which was to say, she was still to a certain degree, in denial- but he wasn't ready to make the move all the way back to her just yet either. She had made the decision to leave. Aram was determined; if it was ever going to happen, it was up to her to make the move to come back. Nonetheless, he maintained the firm belief that the taskforce needed her, and as he had explained that very concept to her, he had instantly followed it in his mind with a sorrowful 'and I need you too.'

Aram watched Samar walk away from his desk, a pensive, but soft smile now firmly plastered across his face. For that brief moment with her there next to him, and that casual swat across his shoulder, Aram felt as if everything was normal again. It was as if all of a sudden the tension of the last few weeks had disappeared into thin air; there they were chatting and teasing as they always had done before... And then the reality hit again; things weren't normal. She had left him, and though the trust was steadily being restored piece by piece, it was never going to be quite the same again.  

Aram didn't quite know what to do with himself now. Despite him being the chatty one, his apartment seemed an awful lot quieter without Samar around. It was always an adventure, with her. Some days, she would talk and tease and joke for hours, or suddenly pounce on him... And other days, she would just as happily curl up in a ball next to him on the couch with a book, relaxing quietly tucked against his side. She was totally unpredictable, but in the best possible way. She always had to one-up him in their bantering, but never too seriously so -she enjoyed the challenging curveballs that he loved throwing back at her far too much for that... And Aram was just as likely to find a steaming cup of fresh coffee that she had left waiting for him on the counter on the rare mornings that she had to run out the door before he managed to even reach the kitchen, as he was to find himself in a battle of stubborn verbal sparring with her. Though once content to spend nearly every evening at home by himself, working away at his computers or watching television, Aram now found himself bored without Samar around -or at least, only a text message away. She was infuriating, but completely spontaneous, wild, and far too amusing. He missed that flirtatious smile... And the sight of her suddenly appearing in yet another stolen shirt.  

It had been difficult a few days earlier when, while running errands, he had happened to walk past the park that ran between their neighbourhoods. It was almost impossible not to notice the weekend soccer crowd playing on the grounds –Samar included. He could spot her easily enough; her tall frame and that wild pony tail that bounced when she ran, were unmistakeable... But Aram had been far enough away, and Samar had been preoccupied enough with chasing after the ball, that she hadn't noticed him across the street when he paused to watch... And it was definitely impossible not to wonder, when he saw her kick a goal, whether or not she was happy. Either way, he stopped just long enough to watch her kick another goal, before continuing on his way again, an oddly proud but still bittersweet feeling settling in his chest; he was still hurting, but he didn't hold it against her any more.  

Everything in recent weeks had Aram beginning to see a new perspective. He was slowly becoming bolder, and more confident in what he wanted. And while he still loved Samar and wanted more than anything to work things out between them, he couldn't help but feel like he also wanted something more. He had always been the one to wear his heart on his sleeve, while Samar kept things close to the vest. She let him in sometimes but in reality, the wall she had built around herself over time was nearly sky high, and Aram had only been allowed to crumble away just enough layers to see over if he occasionally stood on his tip toes. The majority of the time, Samar still hadn't confided in him when something troubled her, and Aram was no longer content to sit back and leave her to battle her demons on her own. He wanted them to be a team. Of course, that didn't mean he wanted to take to the wall she had built with a sledgehammer and knock the whole thing down at once. Aram respected her strength and independence too much to demand such a free-for-all kind of access to all of her most guarded inner secrets. But a door might be nice... Or perhaps a key. Then she could change the locks if she needed to. It was a fine line to toe.

But the bottom line was; Aram wanted more. Not everything, but certainly more than what he had before. And Samar wasn't prepared to give him that yet.

Chapter Text

The flash and loud bang of Anslo Garrick's gun pointing directly at Samar's head made Aram scream in utter devastation... It took everything he had not to risk the same happening to himself by fighting back against the men holding tightly onto his arms, and sprinting across the room to Samar's now lifeless body lying right... In... Front... Of the box where Reddington still stood inside, gazing down at her miserably. There was blood, so much blood, all of it pooling around her... Aram screamed her name again, not even trying to hold it in anymore, or caring who heard him or saw him cry. He couldn't bear to see the woman he loved look like that but at the same time, he just couldn't tear his eyes away...

Aram woke with a gasp. Just like Samar, he always had the occasional nightmare ever since Garrick infiltrated the Post Office, but generally his were far less frequent, and only occurred in times of great stress. But now, after the stress of trying to stop the Director from hurting Liz, and all the drama with Samar, the nightmares were back again... And his subconscious could only jumble those reminders of Garrick, with the constant anxiety over the idea of Samar being hurt in the field. Aram growled to himself, and smacked his head back against the pillow as he tried to calm his breathing and remind himself; it was just a dream... Garrick was gone. Samar was safe. Well, generally speaking. Sometimes, Aram wondered whether or not she was really safe from herself, but that was another issue entirely. He slowly turned his head on the pillow as his breathing began to steady, staring miserably across the bed –that now horribly empty, other side of the bed. Well over a month had now passed -nearly two, in fact- since that fateful phone call, but Aram still couldn't get used to seeing that sight again every night. He wanted her back. Sure, he wanted her to come back to him, and he wanted to wait until he knew for sure she was really ready to let him in, but he still wanted her back eventually. He missed her far too much. Aram let out a dejected sigh, wondering how long that would take. Slowly but surely, he clambered out of bed, trudging to the kitchen for a glass of water to replenish the undoubtedly ridiculous quantity he had lost in sweating fretfully through the nightmare, for what felt like the umpteenth time over the last few weeks.  

Hopefully, the nightmares would come to an end on their own sometime soon...

/*/*/*/*

Aram watched Samar practically waltz away from Liz's desk, with what was easily an alarmed and startled a look as Liz's herself. A Jewish mother? Part of her Mossad training? Liz had asked the right question, and it was borderline impossible for Aram not to overhear the entire conversation when it happened right in front of his desk; who was she? Samar seemed frighteningly excited about it. A little too much, in fact, for someone going through the hell that she was indeed going through currently. Plus, that was not a side of Samar that even he had seen before now, and he certainly hadn't anticipated that out of everyone in the war room, Samar would be the one most enthused about Liz's impending baby. Liz began to busy herself at her own desk as Samar happily flounced away to whatever it was she had to do before talking to the DEA, and Aram just sat there, curiously wondering... About all those conversations they had never had.  

/*/*/*/*

'...Speaking of registries, Aram do you want to go in on a baby gift for Liz?' Samar murmured through the intercom as she and Ressler stood there, boredly watching Maximilliano Cartier –or whatever his real name was- with his dogs in the hotel restaurant. Samar's gaze dropped down and off to one side, still generally miserable but otherwise pleased to have something other than her own dramas to focus on for one small moment –especially while standing there with Ressler. She still didn't really want to be around him; she was tired, she was annoyed at his rambling about magicians and lapdogs, and as if it were just to add insult to injury, she had also picked up the cold that was going around the Post Office. Aram could hear it in her voice through the phone line; that strange excitement about the baby shower again. He could also hear Ressler's snickering in response to Samar's question, but Aram wasn't inclined to do the same. He was surprised that Samar seemed so insistent, but he too, was excited for Liz... And he was glad that Samar had something positive to focus on. So, as far as Aram was concerned, there was no reason not to roll with whatever Samar was planning. 
'She registered for common sense?' Ressler mused, still chuckling to himself. Samar's glance snapped back to his, an ever so slight annoyance crossing her face. 'Because if she's down for having Tom's kid, she needs some.' Aram too, furrowed his brow in irritation as he stared back at the speakerphone on his desk. 
'I think it's romantic to forgive someone you love,' he murmured back, not so emphatically that he lost his discretion, but firmly enough to stand his ground and make his point to Samar. He glanced miserably back down at his keyboard and began to type again, as he continued; 'even if they had an insane error in judgement-' Samar winced and her gaze dropped to the floor again '-that gives you night sweats and causes you to lose nine pounds in a month.' Aram hurriedly stopped himself for a second, horrified by the realisation that he had just said that thought out loud. Ressler shifted his own gaze back to Samar at the very same second, raising his eyebrows. By now, even Samar knew, Ressler had begun to at least suspect that she and Aram had something going on... While at the same time, suddenly feeling a guilty pang strike her stomach; she hated the accidental revelation that Aram was having trouble sleeping, and possibly as a result of her actions. She had more than enough on her own plate already and so she too, was having trouble sleeping –just as Aram had suspected weeks earlier- and this revelation only added to that stress. She was up and down all over the place with her simultaneous stress, and determination to focus on more exciting things instead, but Aram's comment about forgiveness and the way he had helped her get her job back made her feel a glimmer of hope –albeit, only a tiny one. Samar shifted uncomfortably on the spot, trying to ignore Ressler's raised eyebrows, and instead focus on listening to Aram while she surveilled her suspect. '-I mean, it could, anyway,-' Aram winced as he continued '-in theory...' Aram finally trailed off, officially giving up on trying to talk his way out of his uncomfortable, awkward rambling. Samar glanced over Ressler's shoulder, finally spotting the second suspect they had been waiting for. In a way, she suddenly felt glad. She was already feeling guilty, and bad for Aram... But at least for the moment, she had a way to give him an out from his rambling. 
'He's got company,' Samar gestured with the tiniest nod at their suspect, and the line suddenly went quiet as all three of them focused instead on listening in.  

Samar headed off in her own direction after the head of the crime family while Ressler continued to watch Cartier, all the while she guiltily reflected on Aram's words. She had thought he looked a little skinnier in recent weeks... And now she knew why.  

/*/*/*/*

'I don't know what I'm doing...' That was the thought Samar had echoed to Liz after it had been swirling anxiously around in her mind for at least the last week. The revelation that Levi was engaged only perpetuated how awful she was already feeling. Levi was engaged to the woman he met a week after they broke up, and Samar... Well, her only meaningful long term relationship since that same moment was with Aram... And where was that going now?  

Nowhere.

After all the sadness and misery, the invitation to dinner had led to Samar getting her hopes up more than she normally would have, only for them to be totally dashed by the revelation that it wasn't in fact a date but rather, Levi letting her down gently so she didn't have to bear the shock of hearing the news from a third party. It was considerate enough, but add to that the additional excitement over Liz's baby shower only to have that totally dashed too, and all in one day... Samar had so few people in life, even fewer still that genuinely cared about her, and so many awful things had happened lately... She had allowed herself to get her hopes up for both the dinner and the baby shower because they seemed like the only good things happening at all, and she was desperate to cling to them. Now, the baby shower was cancelled, and Samar was seriously doubting herself. She used to consider herself so good at reading people but now she kept finding herself blindsided at every turn. Nothing was going the way she had hoped, and so the question continued to nag her... What was she doing with her life?  

Life as she had once known it, had now completely fallen apart. Her life happily alone and free of emotional commitment, was gone. Her life happily with Aram, and learning to feel at home once more, was gone too. Samar felt like she was losing control faster than she could even try to hold on, and she hated it. She hadn't felt that way since her parents died. After that, it was a long, hard-fought mission to raise herself and her brother, and get herself back on her feet again, and then she had kept them firmly grounded ever since. But now, all of that was gone.  

I don't know what I'm doing...

Samar tried to shake that thought from her mind as she stepped out of her car and took the few reluctant steps towards the first bar she could find after leaving the Post Office. She had thought she could just take control and have her old life back again, as easily as she could strip and clean her gun without really looking. But changing her life wasn't quite so simple as changing her wardrobe.  

It was more like a snake shedding its skin... The snake can't just slither around and crawl straight back into the old one. That just wasn't how it worked.  

Samar stood in the doorway to that bar, wishing she could just do things her way again without worrying about other people. She wished she could just have that night of freedom after a rough day again whenever she wanted to, without feeling that hollowness afterwards. She was trying to take back control... And that was why she found herself at the bar again now, searching, scanning the room for the first even vaguely appealing solution.  

But she couldn't do it.  

She missed Aram. He was the one she wanted, not one of those strangers. Samar wanted him back, and she was finally ready to admit that to herself. The question was; she just didn't know if Aram would take her back after what she had done to him. Samar anxiously bit her lip, brushing the hair off her face as she stood there, contemplating that realisation. She couldn't try to take back control of her life, with one of those strangers now. Samar took a breath; she had to give up on fighting for her old life  –she had to move forwards, not backwards, just as she always had done before. She turned on her heels, wandered back out of the bar, and towards her car once more... Alone, and stuck wondering what to do with her life next...  

/*/*/*/*

After having gone straight home, and straight to bed, but definitely not straight to sleep until after at least two hours spent staring up at the ceiling with her mind running anxious thoughts around in circles, Samar thrashed through the bedcovers in her sleep. Her eyes, though closed, were scrunched tightly shut, as were her fists. Sweat plastered her hair to the sides of her face as she desperately rolled around trying to fight off the demons in her dreams once again. With a sharp, breathless gasp, she woke just as Aram had done the night before. She tried to breathe through it as she blinked a few times and reassured herself of the difference between dreams and reality, before rolling onto her side and staring across her own, equally horribly, empty other side of the bed. Samar let out a frustrated sigh, then slowly crawled out of bed and headed towards the kitchen for the usual cup of tea and circles walked around the living room; the difference between dreams and reality wasn't quite what she had hoped. Now, she was in what felt like a real life nightmare. Samar shook her head as she paused to stare out the living room window on the way to the kitchen; she was convinced that no matter how much she wanted it, she would never be able to have Aram back. His forgiveness was one thing –and that was a huge relief in itself- but it didn't mean that he would want her back as anything more than the friend he had reassured her he was...

Chapter Text

Samar hurried back and forth across her living room, taking another bite out of the corner of the piece of toast in her hand as she ran around getting ready for work that morning. She was running late, which wasn't a common occurrence for her, but just as she had the last few days, she had woken up and spent a little longer than usual staring frustrated up at the ceiling before getting out of bed. This morning in particular, she had stared up at the ceiling for far too long. She was trying to convince herself to put aside her embittered pride, and finally talk to Aram. Now at least, Samar had admitted to herself both what she wanted, and what she regretted. She had admitted to herself that Aram's actions ever since she left him only proved how wrong she was, that he was far stronger than she had first thought, and her fears that she needed to protect him from herself were completely unfounded –save for the emotional trauma cued by those fears in the first place.  

But getting over those hurdles, only presented new ones.  

She still didn't know how Aram felt about the state of their relationship or whether he thought it was even worth salvaging... And if she wanted to find out, she needed to ask, which in turn meant overcoming her pride and making all of those admissions again but this time, out loud. To him. That was far from the sort of scenario Samar, the generally ever confident, never self-doubting person that she was, had ever had to battle before. It was eerily nerve-wracking in fact but nonetheless, Samar was determined. At the very least she wanted to fix things between them, even if that didn't lead to them eventually finding their way back to each other.  

Their friendship was ever so slowly healing, but they were still far quieter than they used to be... And Samar couldn't bear it.  

She hurriedly took the last bite of her toast while trying to pull on her boots with one hand, still standing in the middle of the kitchen. With a small frown, and after nearly toppling over, Samar reluctantly trudged around the corner to one of the barstools to sit for the three seconds extra it took to do up the buckles. Boots finally on, toast practically inhaled, bag slung over her shoulder, and weapon attached firmly to her hip, Samar took one last, furtive glance around the apartment to make sure there was nothing she had forgotten, before borderline sprinting out the front door.  

/*/*/*/*

Ressler, Liz, and Cooper one by one wandered away from the war room in the quest to figure out what on earth it was Reddington wanted from the case of missing, butterfly-painted children. Samar, with a hint of caution, swiveled around in her desk chair to observe Aram setting up the search parameters to track the last year's worth of carnivorous butterfly sales; they were the only two left in the room. She let out a small smile as he absentmindedly glanced up and spotted her there. Samar hesitated for a split second before speaking up; hoping that Aram meant what he said when he told her he was her friend whether she deserved him or not.  

'I'm going to grab a coffee from the break room,' she said quietly, 'can I get you one too?' Aram shot her a small smile of his own, dropping his gaze only for the two seconds it took to tap the last few keys on his keyboard and start the search running, before rising from his seat.
'How about I just go with you?' He suggested. Samar nodded, gesturing for him to lead the way.  

It took all of thirty seconds to cross the war room and close the break room door behind them. Being the middle of the day, a large percentage of the Post Office's staff had disappeared off site for lunch breaks, and both the war room, and the break room, were surprisingly empty. Now hidden within the break room's partial privacy –the risk always remained that someone would walk in at the worst possible moment- and with the majority of the site empty, Samar figured it might be the only chance she would have all day to speak to Aram alone. She took both their mugs from the shelf and quickly began to make both coffees at once, Aram waiting quietly next to her. It wasn't hard for him to see from her face that the choice to head to the break room at that very particular moment, was deliberate. Samar bit her lip as she slowly handed him the mug of steaming coffee, wondering how to begin the conversation that had been running through her mind on and off all morning. There was no easy way to bring it up.  

'I shouldn't have left you,' she finally let out, her voice barely more than a bitter whisper. Aram's gaze snapped to hers over his coffee mug, not sure whether he was pleased or disappointed at the level of regret in her voice. He was glad to hear the words, but the tone wasn't something he was used to hearing from her; if anything, it made him all the more concerned about what was going on inside her head. But then again, the last nearly two months had affected her in ways that changed her dramatically –hell, they had changed him too. He nodded slowly, in response to the observation and the almost pleading eyes staring firmly in his direction, now understanding exactly where the conversation was headed. It was the conversation he had been waiting for her to start for so long... But he still had that one, very important clause that needed to be met before they could go rushing straight back to one another. They locked eyes for a moment, Samar not wanting to have to ask, and Aram not wanting to make her ask but determined to stand his ground all the same. 'You don't suppose...' Samar trailed off for a second, furrowing her brow as she pushed the hair off her face and eyed him cautiously, hating the way that sentence sounded. That was all it took for Aram to give in. She had asked at least half the question, and he could spare her the rest. His gaze dropped to the break room's linoleum floor, reluctantly shaking his head, before shooting her a bittersweet, but appreciative smile.

'Samar, you're the one who left me,' his tone was kind, but firm as he answered the question without it needing to be voiced all the way. 
'Because I needed to deal with other things! You said you understood that,' Samar protested. 
'I know, and I do... But that's the problem.' Aram sighed. He hated doing this; he wanted more than anything in the world, to have again what they had before everything was turned upside down... And he hated the look of hurt disappointment on her face. But they were still working to repair the trust between them. They were certainly making progress, but Aram didn't want to test its limits. If they fell apart again, he seriously doubted that they would manage to pull things back together for a second time. So, he wanted -no, he needed- to be absolutely sure that getting back together was the right decision. He took a breath before he continued; 'you're the one who said it was because your life got too crazy. Can you really guarantee that's not going to happen again? Because if it did, I'd still understand then. But I don't want to go through that again. I love you, but I don't want to be your on-again, off-again, only when you're happy, kind of guy. I want us, but I want to be in for the long haul... To be there for you when your life gets crazy, not to watch you get up and walk away when you decide it's too hard.'
'Aram, I can't guarantee that crazy things won't happen...'
'I'm not asking you to. I just want you to let me be there for you when they do.' Samar could only blink at him. Aram hadn't been the first guy to pine after her, nor had he been the first to pine after her that she had actually taken a chance with... But he was the first to truly capture her affections. He was the only one she wanted, and they both knew he had never wanted her to leave him in the first place... And now, he was saying no?
'So then, what are you saying, exactly?' Samar asked, curious more than anything else. She needed to clarify exactly where they stood with one another. Aram hesitated before he responded. 
'I'm saying I don't know. I'm saying... Not yet. You said you needed time to deal with other things. Maybe you need more. Maybe we should wait a little longer... Take this slowly,' he trailed off. It was painful to say it, but he needed it to be clear. Samar's lip quirked up at his last comment, suddenly flashing back to early days of their friendship.
'Like the way we started, but in reverse?' She teased gently. Aram shot her a small, wistful smile. It was a little like that; when Samar had been hesitant to trust anyone, and he had waited for her to decide she was ready. Now the roles were reversed; he was hesitant to trust her, and he was telling her he cared, but asking her to wait. He took in the expression on her face; traces of the disappointment remained, but the hurt was gone. She seemed to understand... And to want them to be ok, just like he did, but she knew not to push. Aram felt relieved; for a moment he had been worried that his explanation wouldn't be enough, and that it would destroy all the progress they had made. 
'Yeah, kind of,' he murmured back, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. Samar's face lit up. They had a chance. A tiny, and incredibly fragile chance, but a chance nonetheless. That was all she needed to know. She paused as a joke came to mind, unsure whether it would hit too close to home, but decided to risk it anyway;
'Ok,' she nodded, before winking; 'if that's how it has to be.' Aram groaned and rolled his eyes, but wrapped his arms around her anyway, glad that finally, they could at least joke with one another again, and understand exactly where they stood with one another. 
'That was terrible,' he teased, making her burst out laughing. She kept chuckling to herself as they slowly pulled away from one another, knowing they had to get back to work before anyone came looking for them –Aram's search for the carnivorous butterflies in particular, should have been nearly done by now, and he needed to report back to Cooper. She tipped her head to him in recognition of just how terrible the joke really was, before adding her usual one, last, cheeky, little comment, that could only make Aram smile further;
'But, it's true.'

Chapter Text

Sighing to herself bitterly as she sat in the break room at the little table with her coffee, and mulled over the last few days' events in her mind, that nagging feeling of having screwed up all over again, was wallowing in Samar's stomach once more.  

She had accidentally let slip to the others that Liz was looking into adoption, without realising that Liz wasn't yet ready to share it.  

Samar was defensive again, and that irked her. It seemed to be a regular occurrence of late, when once upon a time, she used to be so confident and sure of her decisions. With this new error of judgement now only adding to the mountain of them after Shahin, Ressler, and Levi... Samar felt like her confidence had been absolutely shattered into the tiniest of pieces, and scattered through the breeze, never to be seen again. And to top it off, she was annoyed at herself. She and Aram had reached their understanding of one another and of that, Samar was glad. But in essence, he had still turned her down or at least, temporarily. Samar hated the way that made her feel, and in trying to tell Liz 'there's no shame in your decision', she had been trying to tell herself as well; there was no shame in regretting the choice to leave Aram. Regret was normal. There was no shame in wanting him back and deciding to finally have that conversation, or feeling disappointed that she had to wait. She was not the damsel in distress that for a brief moment, she had thought she was being.  

All she had to do, was talk to Aram more. Let him in, and not fight her feelings.  

A familiar hand came to rest on her shoulder, making Samar jump at the sudden touch. She glanced up and Aram, standing there quietly, gave her a soft smile. 
'Another case done,' he started, only pausing to let out a small yawn, 'do you want to get dinner?' That was all it took for Samar to breathe that sigh of relief; just like old times... Or perhaps, not such old times, but it certainly felt like an eternity had passed since the last time they had dinner together after work. Samar nodded eagerly, and Aram beamed. In part, he had been worried about asking her to wait; concerned that it wouldn't quite be as simple as the two of them spending the time just being friends again without letting feelings get in the way. But dinner was just dinner, and it was easily the best step in trying to get things back to normal. Aram plucked Samar's now empty coffee mug up off the table and set it down in the sink, just as she rose from her chair. She took the few steps towards the break room door, just in front of him, before quickly glancing back at him over her shoulder and grinning.
'What cuisine do we feel like tonight?' She asked. Aram furrowed his brow, and dramatically stroked his stubble in mock-contemplation.
'Hmmm... Pizza or Thai, what do you think?' Samar raised one eyebrow in her own flash of mock-seriousness.
'Pizza,' she said, quite simply. Aram struggled to hold back a laugh.
'Can we get ice cream afterwards?' Samar rolled her eyes indignantly; what a ridiculous question. 
'Of course.' She reached for her bag as they both passed her desk, Samar barely even breaking her stride as they crossed the war room towards the elevator. Samar paused only to shoot Aram that mischievous grin he had missed so much, just as the elevator doors rumbled closed in their faces. 'Rum raisin or mint chocolate chip?' Aram simply gaped at her.
'You really have been away from me too long,' he teased, 'obviously, the answer is both.'

/*/*/*/*

Aram shifted uncomfortably on his side of the booth as his phone on the corner of the table flashed for what was easily the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes –not that he wanted Samar to notice of course. But, she did anyway. There was no way she wouldn't. Nonetheless, the first few times she had ignored it; figuring instead that Aram's business was Aram's business, and if he wanted to share it, he would. The next few times, her curiosity was seriously piqued and yet, she remained quiet, pretending to ignore it again. Aram meanwhile, was also trying to ignore it out of sheer politeness. It was yet another, odd, almost role reversal, that had memories flashing before Samar's eyes of the two of them going for pizza at the very same place before they first became a couple, and her own phone constantly beeping at messages from Mossad.  

And by now, it was driving them both crazy.

'Just check your messages,' Samar burst out, with an amused eye roll, as the screen flashed yet again. Aram's eyes darted sideways for a split second across the now empty plates on the table, and then to his phone, before quickly shaking his head.
'No, it's fine. I know what it is,' he sighed. Aram took one look at her curious raised eyebrow, then finally let out a grin and relented; 'it's the group text thread with the NSA guys.' Samar gave a small 'ah' of understanding; that would explain the rapid series of messages all in quick succession. Aram picked up his phone, scrolled through the thread, and then dropped his face to the palm of his hand and groaned. Samar tried earnestly to hold back a laugh;
'Do I dare ask what they're up to this time?' 
'You remember when you challenged us all to paintball after we beat you at laser tag?' Samar scowled in mock-exasperation.
'I remember demanding a paintball rematch after I tricked you into telling me all your laser tag strategies, yes.' 
'Well....' Aram trailed off for a second, his shoulders sagging sheepishly. 'They've started nagging me again about setting it up. I didn't want to have to mention it, but-' Aram rolled his eyes at the next few messages flickering on his screen '-they're being unusually persistent.' Samar furrowed her brow in confusion.
'You don't want to play paintball?' She asked curiously. Aram's gaze darted up again to meet hers.
'No, that's not it at all,' he said hurriedly, 'it's just, uh... I didn't think you would want to go. You know, um, after all the crazy stuff that's happened recently...'
'Actually,' Samar smiled softly at him, 'I think it's a great idea. Might even be therapeutic.' Aram tried and failed not to chuckle at her matter of fact tone.
'Actually,' he shot back, a touch of amusement of his own still lingering in his voice; 'that's what they thought too. Something along the lines of shooting paint at crazy ex-girlfriends, or whatever?' Aram shrugged in mock ignorance; 'no clue what they're talking about. You got any ideas?' Samar smirked, and quickly shook her head. 
'None whatsoever,' she dramatically sighed. 'So, when are we doing this?' Aram dropped his gaze back to his phone, furrowing his brow as he scrolled through the message train and tried to figure out what the current day of choice was between the six of them throwing ideas around left, right, and centre.
'Next week some time, I think,' he slowly murmured, not even lifting his eyes from the screen. Samar nodded her approval of the plan, and smiled again as Aram sent back some kind of response to the thread, thus bringing all the pestering and screen flashing to an end. Perhaps she did have to wait far longer than she wanted, to get things back to normal... But at least they were on the right track, and now Samar was finally, truly at peace with the idea.

Chapter Text

'Nice job, it's almost like being a bitch comes natural,' commented Ressler, as he and Samar opened the doors to either side of the truck. Samar gritted her teeth, but otherwise ignored him.
'Aram, are you there?' She asked instead, over the coms. In spotting the dead man's switch now laying activated in the driver's lap, Samar had far worse things to worry about –at least for the moment, anyway- than Ressler's snide remarks that really, were nothing she hadn't heard at some point or another before now.
'Uh, yeah...' Aram said flatly, 'hearing every word.' He tapped quickly at his keyboard, eyebrows raised higher than he would have thought possible. He was decidedly unimpressed by Ressler's comment, regardless of how Samar felt about it, and especially after Ressler had already called her naïve the day before. Aram had hoped that the displeased look he had shot Ressler over his desk at that point, would have been enough to get the message across; that if he could work relatively well with Samar again now despite what she had put him through then surely, Ressler could try to be civil too. But clearly, it wasn't enough. Samar bit her lip, knowing exactly what Aram was meaning with his response, and that he wasn't at all happy. Nonetheless, for the moment she had a job to do, and that meant trying not to think about the fact that with Aram's new rule about talking to each other more, they would undoubtedly have to talk about this again later.  

/*/*/*/*

Samar and Ressler rode the elevator back up to the war room in utter silence, just as they had the entire drive back from the bomb-laden truck. She was exhausted, the dark rings from a lack of sleep still sat heavy under her eyes, despite the fact that she was just starting to sleep a little easier again now. The rings were an accumulative effect from the weeks preceding, and they probably wouldn't fade any time soon. Samar was doing her best to work as professionally as she could –her earlier labelling of Ressler as an idiot notwithstanding- despite her barely less than chaotic personal life. Anyone who didn't really know her well, or know what was really going on, would just think from looking at her that she was overworked, or tired, or possibly even both. But, Aram knew better. The aftermath of the tension between her and Ressler still lingered between them. They each stepped out of the elevator as those heavy doors rumbled open, and immediately headed off in different directions; Ressler to his office, and Samar to the space between her and Aram's desks.  

Aram was there, waiting for her to return, just as he always used to.

'The B word? Really?' She teased, albeit wearily, as she came to a stop at the other side of his desk. She had thought about it deeply on the wordless drive back, not even bothering to try and make smalltalk with Ressler, and Samar had found herself torn between being touched by Aram's fierce determination to stand up for her, and the discomfort that came with adjusting to the idea of letting him do so after insisting on being independent for so long. The old boundaries established after the near bar fight of months earlier had flashed quickly through her mind but Samar knew Aram wanted more now, and so she was trying hard to let the discomfort slide. Aram shot her a small grin.
'Well, I wasn't going to repeat it,' Aram grumbled back, with a touch of mock exasperation. Samar hesitated before responding, still feeling a little unsettled. The dynamics between them had changed significantly; just as Aram had grown more confident, Samar's confidence had taken a hit... Aram was becoming more outspoken and less content to hold back his protective instinct, while Samar was just starting to let out more emotion... And now the balance between them was different. Now, they had new boundaries, new comfort zones to discover and adjust to. Samar eyed the dark grey stress ball on his desk, still crumpled and squashed from when Aram was directing them to the truck on the highway. The look on her face softened as she realised; there was a incredibly fine line between letting him in more, and not letting him push one step too far... And Aram was still trying to figure out where to find that boundary too.
'You know,' she started, a little uneasily, 'I probably would have let his comment go if you hadn't said anything. I did call him an idiot too, remember?' Aram shrugged nonchalantly.
'I know.'
'Alright, well...' Samar took a half step back to reach for her bag still sitting under her desk, and sling it over her shoulder, before giving him a reluctant but nonetheless appreciative nod, 'thanks for standing up for me-' Aram grinned softly, and nodded back '-but maybe next time, could you wait until after the bomb is deactivated? You'll be lucky if Ressler doesn't report you for that, no matter how much time we had left.' Aram grimaced, but tipped his head to her in recognition of the potential consequence he hadn't thought of in his earlier moment of instant frustration. Samar held back a grin of her own as she sidled around his desk and picked up his bag too, to prompt him along; 'and you know, who am I going to have around here to stand up for me next time, if you get suspended for insubordination?'
'Yeah, ok,' Aram chuckled, 'that probably wasn't the best timing, huh?'
'Nope,' Samar shook her head, 'just like this conversation. Come on, don't we have paintball to get to?' Aram immediately leapt to his feet, glancing at his watch. Samar had returned just in time to battle through the after work traffic and get to paintball on time. 
'You ready to get your ass kicked again?' Aram smirked as he hurried along behind her back towards the elevator. Samar rolled her eyes.
'What's that thing people say about fooling you and shame?' She asked, with a wry smile, 'you guys aren’t going to beat me a second time.'

/*/*/*/*

Changed out of work clothes, and into older t-shirts and sweats that they were all less concerned about having completely covered with paint, Samar, Aram, and his NSA buddies all filed into the square, wood-panel fenced arena at various different entry points. The huge field was predominantly grass, and it was scattered all over with pieces of wall and a few towered huts that matched the wood fence, and seemed almost maze-like all together. Samar kept her back to the border fence to limit the chance of anyone sneaking up on her, as she slowly crept her way around. Once again, it was a battle to the death; once someone was shot by the other team, they were out of the game. And of course, by team, it was to say that once again it was Samar by herself against all the guys.  

The barely audible sound of footsteps not too far away made the tiny hairs on the back of Samar's neck begin to prickle. She was taking the battle seriously, this time. She took a few more hurried steps and ducked, hiding in the wide shadow of the floodlight that towered over the side of the fence, rather than standing in its spotlight... Then she waited. She could hear the sound of breathing right behind her, whoever it was obviously also backed against the exact same spot of the exact same wall –just on the opposite side. Now knowing exactly where the shooter was, Samar tiptoed one foot ever so slowly in front of the other, along the wall until she reached the end. Paintball gun poised, and finger on the trigger ready, she pounced around the corner taking aim and immediately firing.
'Don't shoot!' Aram's voice urgently whispered, as he ducked to the ground to escape the splatter of paint that only narrowly missed his ear. Samar did a double take, suspiciously eyeing him crouched down with his hands raised in the air in surrender. 
'Why not?' She smirked in amusement as she kept her paintball gun trained directly at him. 
'Because I’m on your team,' Aram said quickly. He warily rose from the ground, his hands still high in the air. 
'No you're not,' Samar began. 'It's me against all of you guys, that's what everyone said at the start.' She rolled her eyes; was this some twisted part of their new strategy? Did they really think she was that stupid?
'No,' Aram continued to urge, 'they switched the paint colour in my gun at the last minute before they gave it to me. I didn't realise until the match started and half of them turned on me. When I fired back, my paint wasn't blue like theirs, it was orange like yours. They've set us up.' Aram paused, scowling to himself before muttering under his breath; 'pretty sure that's some serious violation of the bro code, but anyway...' Samar raised a single, still suspicious eyebrow. 
'Prove it,' she teased. Aram gingerly picked up his paintball gun -Samar's still trained on him in case he made any sudden moves- and fired one shot at the wall behind her. The tiny, flying ball of paint just missed her, nearly clipping the end of her pony tail. 
'Oops,' Aram bit his lip to hold back a laugh at the scowl on her face. Samar rolled her eyes again, before turning to glance warily over her shoulder; sure enough, the splatter on the wall behind her was indeed orange. 
'Ok fine,' she sighed with a touch of mock-exasperation. 'They've set us up. But, you didn't think to turn around and shoot in the opposite direction instead of nearly wiping out your teammate?'
'To be fair,' Aram muttered back, 'I was trying to be quick. Who knows where the rest of them are?' 
'Well, come on then.' Samar half turned on the spot, gesturing for him to follow her back on her path to the towered hut she had been trying to reach before he crept up on her.

They moved, back to back to ward off any potential foes, zig zagging slightly across the arena and around a few corners before reaching the L-shaped hut.  

'I'll go in first,' Samar whispered, 'you stay behind me and a step back, and make sure you shoot anyone who happens to be in there and shoots me first, ok?' Aram nodded his agreement with the plan, and Samar poked her head around the door. She took a few more steps in and peered around the inside corner; nobody seemed to be on the ground floor. She hurried up the small set of stairs, Aram still behind her, and glanced around the small turret. The hut was empty. They now had a base to work from, with the advantage of shelter to protect themselves, and height to spy over the lower walls and see anyone else coming towards them. Aram crouched in the corner and gazed out through one of the holes in the upper wall that was just wide enough to poke the end of the paintball gun through to shoot. Samar did the same over the side of the tower, the gap between them barely six feet.
'I got one of them when I made a run for it like a bat out of hell,' Aram muttered, 'that leaves four more.'
'That's how you got away?' Samar chuckled. Aram shot her a look.
'I'm not you, I can't take on a group of them by myself and still manage to escape. I'm used to team exercises.'
'Noted.' 
'So,' Aram began again. Samar turned away from the hole in the wall to glance back at him. 'Are we just going to stay up here?'
'Well, four against two still isn't great odds, and we don't know where they are, if they're split up to hunt us down, or if they're moving in a pack-' Aram nodded thoughtfully in agreement as Samar continued; '-at the very least we should stay up here for a little while and do some recon.' 
'If we can snipe one or two more of them, that would help too,' Aram added quickly. 'Then we can go back out there and hunt the last couple down once we know what they're doing.' They suddenly grinned at each other, both of them pleased and slightly taken aback by how they seemed be thinking in sync. It took a second before they both wiped the goofy grins from their faces and reminded themselves to concentrate again; both of them suddenly turning back to their respective vantage points, and waiting... Just waiting, for any one of the other four to suddenly re-appear...

/*/*/*/*

An eternity was what it felt like. Samar and Aram still sat in their tower, waiting. None of the rest of the gang had appeared, save for Max briefly running past them as he ducked across a gap between two other walls too quickly for either Aram or Samar to fire at him. Samar sighed to herself in quiet frustration for what was easily the third time in as many minutes. Their plan was dashed; the other four seemed to be doing the exact same thing. They had reached a stalemate, and that meant one team had to move. 
'Aram?' Samar murmured, loosening her grip on her paintball gun for a moment and turning to glance at him over her shoulder. Aram did much the same, one eyebrow raised curiously.
'We're going to have to just go out there, aren't we?' He observed. Samar simply nodded.
'I would say so.' With a small sigh, Aram stood from his position still crouching by the hole in the tower wall. Samar followed suit, and Aram gestured for her to take to the stairs first –even in a frustrating battle of paintball, he was still intent on being a gentleman. Nonetheless, Aram made it all of two steps from the bottom of the stairs, before he stumbled, tripping over his own feet and falling down the last couple of stairs... Crashing straight into Samar, knocking her over, and falling on top of her.
'Oh, sorry,' Aram gasped in horror as what had just happened registered in his mind. Samar simply looked straight up at him, rolling her eyes; it had been a relatively low impact fall compared to many suffered when actually in the field, so it wasn't as if she was really injured at all. Instead, she tried earnestly to keep a straight face... And failed, dismally.
'Aram,' she began to chuckle, 'is that your paintball gun or are you just particularly happy to have fallen on top of me?' Aram instinctively jumped up at nearly lightening speed in response, before pausing and shaking his head in exasperation. Of course, she was never going to let go of an obvious opportunity to mess with him, even if it was just for a second.
'I've said it before,' he sighed as he took her hand to help her up off the ground, 'you're going to be the death of me, one day.' All Samar could do was smirk.
'Ready to go back out there and hunt them down?' She asked. Aram nodded, his serious game face back on again. One after the other they crept out the door of their base hut, and worked their way around. For what felt like yet another eternity, they wandered quietly through the maze like arena, still back to back, and seeing absolutely nobody. It was eerily quiet, almost as if they were the only ones still there. Samar suddenly paused, perplexed. She furrowed her brow, and turned back to Aram. 
'Where is everyone?' She asked curiously. Aram pulled the exact same face.
'I'm honestly not sure...' He trailed off. They both cautiously looked around, looking for any clue whatsoever as to the whereabouts of his buddies.  

And then all of a sudden, a flash of blue paint went sailing straight past the end of his nose, only to splatter at the ground just inches from his feet.

'What the hell?' Aram yelped. Samar glanced up; sure enough, she suddenly spied all four of Aram's buddies, all at once. Raj, Shaun, Marco, and of course, Max –the very pawn who had cornered her during laser tag. With that one quick glance, Samar deduced that Steve was the one Aram had shot and eliminated earlier but of course, that wasn't the main concern right now. They were surrounded. Each of the four that remained, had waited for them to step into that very part of the arena, each in a separate corner. Samar and Aram had no way to escape. They stood, back to back once more, paintball guns raised, and watching the others each step ever closer. 
'Hey, Samar?' Aram whispered to her, over his shoulder.
'Mmm?'
'Remember when I made you watch Mr and Mrs Smith?' Samar rolled her eyes; this was not the time to be bringing up random movie references!
'Yeah, it was awful.' At the time she had argued, almost offended really, that it was neither an accurate nor realistic depiction of spies, at all. Aram however, had seemed to enjoy it. Nonetheless, in the current moment, Aram persisted. 
'Remember the end bit in the department store?'
'Yeah...?'
'That's what we're doing.' The expression on Samar's face changed from one of frustrated confusion, to instant understanding. It was the only possible plan –and a quick way for them to communicate said plan without any of Aram's buddies knowing what was happening. Within a split second of each other, the both of them began to fire. They ducked, they weaved, and even occasionally jumped, staying either back to back or turning simultaneously to shoot either under each other's arms or over each other's shoulders; the paintball version of that final scene from the movie. Aram grinned like an idiot despite his irritation at his friends; he could practically hear Mondo Bongo –the soundtrack song from that very scene- playing in his head. They turned on the spot, firing at each of their four opponents who were eagerly firing back, but otherwise ducking now rather than continuing to advance forward. Without even a single word being exchanged, Samar reached for another of the colourful ammunition clips from Aram's side pocket and ducked to reload as he momentarily turned to cover her for the second it took to do so. Samar rose again firing around him at Shaun trying to take advantage of the turn. She finally hit him in the shoulder. One of Aram's paintballs hit Marco in the side. They continued to fire, until Max and Raj finally retreated, scurrying away to reload, and restrategise.  

Samar and Aram, now having a way out, quickly darted in the opposite direction, and took refuge in one of the smaller, single storey huts behind them.  

'Good plan,' Samar observed, still catching her breath, 'completely insane, but still good.'
'Thanks,' Aram's gaze shifted away from reloading his paintballs for a second, to let out a small grin. 'But... Now what do we do?' Samar glanced out through the small hole in the hut wall, before turning back with a grimace. 
'They've taken either side of the path out of here,' she grumbled, 'we're pinned again, and I don't think we can hit them from here either. The angle's all wrong.' She stepped back to allow Aram to take a peek of his own. Aram gritted his teeth and furrowed his brow as he stepped away from the hole in the wall. 'There's only one way out,' Samar added, slinging her paintball gun back over her shoulder, and eyeing Aram warily. He shot back an equally cautious look, hurriedly trying to calculate the chance of success in his head.
'Yeah, I know.' They locked eyes for a moment, each understanding the other as perfectly as they had been the entire match through so far, before Samar turned away. She took another step towards the doorway, ready to make a run for it, but Aram reached for her arm to stop her. 
'I'm faster than you,' she quickly protested. 
'Uh huh,' Aram agreed, 'but you're also the better shot.' Samar bit her lip as she thought about it; Aram had a point. Speed wasn't quite so necessary when one of them went running as bait to draw out Max and Raj. It was more important to have the better shooter those few steps behind to fire when the offense popped up out of their hiding places. 
'Ok,' Samar relented, finally agreeing to the plan, 'you ready?' Aram nodded, taking a deep breath as he stood in the doorway ready to run.  

He paused for one more second, before making a break for it.

'FREEEEEEDOOOOM!' Aram's bellowing voice rang through the air as he sprinted across the field, causing both Raj and Max to pause, confused, as they popped up from behind the wall, before beginning to fire at him. That was all the break Samar needed before taking the step out from the hut behind Aram, and firing her own rapid series of paintballs, one after the other, at both of them. Aram ducked and weaved rather than moving forward in a straight line, not being struck by a single flash of paint. Samar ignored the yell, instead quickly landing paint on both opponents.  

Out of the game, Max and Raj immediately both stopped firing. Aram immediately stopped running. He spun around wildly on the spot to glance back at Samar as he arrived at the arena's exit; they had won.

Samar ran along the grass to catch up with him, shaking her head in amused disbelief as the rest of the group pushed past them, grumbling dejectedly under their breaths.  

'Hold on,' she chuckled, 'is this supposed to be Mr and Mrs Smith, or Braveheart?' Aram shrugged, grinning sheepishly.
'I may have marathoned a few old favourites lately, whenever I had trouble sleeping,' he quipped. 'You keep laughing, and I'll start singing We Are The Champions instead.' The teasing smile instantly vanished from Samar's face... But it was too late. Much to all his friends' dismay, Aram promptly broke into song as he strolled out of the arena behind them, head held high in victory after their betrayal earlier in the evening; 'we are the champions, my frieeeends... And we'll keep on fighting, 'til the eeeend -' Aram paused to play a couple of seconds of air guitar '-we are the champions... Weeee are the champions... No time for losers, 'cause we are the champiooooons... Of the woooorld...'  

Aram was allowed to just reach the end of the chorus, before five blue paint splatters all hit him, all at the same time.  

His friends, all rolling their eyes, stood with their paintball guns still loaded, and still pointed at him as he gasped at the impact, lest he break into horrifyingly-out-of-tune song again... But not for long. A rapid series of orange paintballs zoomed straight past Aram, one striking each of his friends in turn, in retaliation for interrupting the victorious moment. Aram spun around on the spot to note Samar still standing right behind him, one wry eyebrow raised. No words needed to be exchanged for the point to be made. Aram grinned at her, as his friends all shook their heads and ambled away back to their respective cars; annoyed at the extra splash of paint, but nonetheless amused at their underlying plan of forcing Aram and Samar to work together, having been executed with the utmost success.
'Would I be risking life and limb if I hugged you right now?' Aram piped up, as they both promptly deposited their paintball guns at the desk just outside the arena.
'Yes, you're covered in paint,' Samar replied drolly, before gesturing at herself with a mock-dramatic flourish, 'whereas, I am spotless.' They began to move again, now several paces behind the rest of the group.
'Actually...' Aram muttered quietly in her ear, 'there's a fleck of paint in your hair.' Samar's eyes went wide and reached around for her pony tail; sure enough, there was the tiniest fleck of blue, right there at the end of it. 
'How long has that been there?' She gasped. Aram chuckled to himself.
'About half the game.'
'Shouldn't that have eliminated me ages ago?'
'Maybe?' Aram shrugged, 'I wasn't about to shoot myself in the foot though, so to speak.' Samar broke into a wide grin as they arrived at their respective cars parked side by side; they had worked surprisingly well together –despite being set up- rather than one of them taking the lead and the other following... In what was in itself, a great outlet after a long, stressful day, they had finally started to find their new balance. 
'Good call.'

Chapter Text

Aram was pinned behind the altar with the organist. Samar was pinned behind a pew, and then a column as she moved and fired back at Solomon's men surrounding the church. Neither of them flinched, or watched, or feared so much for the other now; not like Aram had every time he had watched Samar leave for the field, nor like the way Samar had been distracted by her concern for him during the diner siege with Marvin Gerard. They didn't need to anymore; Samar had well and truly learned Aram was strong enough not to need her protection, and Aram didn't feel the need to worry quite so much for Samar in the field now that he was more confident in believing that she would tell him when he did need to worry.   

Aram began to panic as the organist was struck by a stray bullet and he was the only one left to put pressure on the wound but nonetheless, he remained focused as the gunfire continued around him.  

He crawled -helping the organist along with him- around the corner and behind the column where Samar stood, as the gunmen began to invade from the other end of the building. Samar paused in firing only for the split second it took to pull him further behind her, before she continued –not once breaking her gaze directed firmly at her targets. Aram barely reacted to the sharp tug but rather, just continued moving as directed. Aram took one stunned, uneasy glance at the way Samar's teeth were firmly gritted as she fired; she was intently focused on the task at hand, and somehow, his stomach immediately ceased its backflips. He was still afraid –he would be foolish if he wasn't- but Aram was no longer panicking. He trusted her to do whatever she needed to do to help get them out of that chaotic scene, and she trusted him to duck and stay put out of harm's way while she did so.  

Just like that, the happy day that was supposed to be, was gone in a flash akin to those that came with the firing of each and every bullet... And with that, everything was different now.  

/*/*/*/*

The rest of the day had passed in a blur; all sense of time had faded between escaping Solomon's men at the church, tracing earcoms to one of his crew, finding and following Liz from her makeshift hospital to that final stretch of road where they all came together once more... And where they had arrived too late. Liz was gone. It didn't feel real...  

The atmosphere in the war room had emotions running at an all time high.  

Aram still sat silently, staring blankly and in shock at his desk phone, having barely moved or spoken a word since placing the receiver back on the hook. Ressler paced up and down between the desks, glaring around the room and seemingly searching for nothing in particular out of sheer anger for the sudden and unfair loss of his partner. Cooper remained standing on the upper level, leaning over the railing and watching the comings and goings in the room below, while his mind wandered elsewhere. Samar, meanwhile, sat sideways in the chair next to Aram's, head down face first against his shoulder, still letting out occasional breathless, distraught sobs. Her and Ressler's return to the war room from the scene was the only time Aram had moved. As soon as he had heard those elevator doors rumbling open, Aram had stood; hoping desperately that they might have returned with news that it had all been a huge miscommunication and Liz wasn't really gone after all. But his heart only ached further as Samar came closer and he saw her puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. She had headed straight towards him, at an almost run-like pace, and thrown her arms around him just as she had Ressler at the scene earlier. Liz's loss was devastating enough news as it was, but when Samar had seen her closest –or only, even- female friend wheeled straight past her in a body bag after Ressler had eventually walked away, an entirely different level of grief had come crashing down over her like a pile of bricks. Aram had held her close –and given the circumstances, nobody questioned whether or not it was appropriate to do so- as she cried against his shoulder, as a comfort not just to her, but also to himself. Slowly, and as Ressler commenced his pacing, they had sat down at Aram's desk... Which was where they found themselves now; sitting there together, silent, stunned, and utterly miserable.  

/*/*/*/*

'Where the hell was Solomon in all this?' Aram suddenly burst out. Unlike Samar, who after recent events had quickly grown tired with being angry at the world and now simply wanted to grieve, Aram was furious. Over time it had become apparent that despite his usual gentleness, he was far from a pushover, and was more than willing to make a stand if the stakes were high enough, but it was still rare to hear him yell so angrily. 
'Once we got there and managed to stop the assault on the ambulance, our priority was saving Liz, not catching Solomon,' Samar kept her voice calm and steady; in all the chaos at the scene, Solomon had simply slipped through their fingers and vanished into thin air almost at the same very second they had arrived. She was frustrated that he had managed to get away but the reality was; they could catch him another day. Samar had no doubt that they would find Solomon eventually, and then the taskforce would rain all possible hell down on him for what he had done. 
'But you didn't save her!' Aram continued to yell, albeit weakly. It was a desperate yell; he wasn't really angry at Samar, he was angry at the situation and he had simply reached the venting stage. Samar knew that, so she had no intention to argue back. She had been through the same thing herself more than enough times to know; the quicker Aram just got it out of his system, the quicker it would be over. She took no offense from his words... And in all honesty, after everything that had happened, everything they had been through, she had no qualms in just letting him yell those words at her for the mere few minutes Aram's anger ever seemed to last. He locked eyes with her across the room, trying desperately to cling to his anger. Samar just stood there, not breaking her gaze, waiting for Aram's frustration to inevitably pass. Aram screwed up his face in irritation; he had expected Samar to argue back in self-defence, but instead she was quite possibly the most non-confrontational he had ever seen her; her shoulders were relaxed, her arms hung limply by her sides and if anything, the look on her face could only be described as weary, but otherwise sympathetic. Samar was visibly exhausted, and it was hard for Aram to yell when she looked like that; even though what felt like a million thoughts raced around in circles in his brain as he continued to process the idea that Liz, one of their best friends, was gone. After having spent so much time and energy saving Liz from the Cabal and helping her regain her freedom... After having been the only one left at the Post Office to keep her safe when she was locked in the impenetrable box at the mercy of the Director... It didn't seem fair to Aram that after all that, Liz still couldn't have her life back... That this was the way she had to die; alone, in the back of a van, from complications following the birth of the child she had so desperately wanted for years. And so Aram felt that flash of anger, knowing that there was nothing they could have done to stop it, but wishing that there could have been so it didn't feel like it was all for nothing.  

Aram let out a small sigh of defeat as that flash of anger passed, and the sadness returned; dropping his gaze and traipsing across the room to slump down on the couch and bury his face in his hands.  

'Without Liz... What are the rest of us even supposed to do now?' He murmured. Now satisfied that the yelling was over, Samar dropped onto the couch next to him, tucking herself against his side and leaning her head against his shoulder. She had been wondering the same thing; with no Liz around, Reddington's agreement with the FBI no longer stood, and without Reddington, there was no taskforce... And in the one step further that Samar had thought but Aram hadn't quite yet reached; with no taskforce, Samar's placement with the FBI was void. She had never officially been an agent of the Bureau but rather, she had simply been 'on loan' to them from Mossad. If that was no longer the case, then she would be moved on to the next assignment, probably in the middle of who-knows-where. 
'We find Solomon... And we finish this case. After that... It's up to Reddington.'  

A tiny voice reared its ugly head inside Samar's mind, fuelling that flash of annoyance for allowing herself to get close to the people at the Post Office. Now Liz was gone, and now Samar was devastated at the loss of her friend. That was yet another feeling Samar had tried to avoid by having kept to herself once upon a time; the devastating loss of family was bad enough, without having to feel that again for friends too... And if Mossad moved her away, Samar wouldn't just be losing Liz but rather, all of them. They wouldn't be allowed to know where she was assigned next, and that would make contact difficult. If that happened, she would be losing Aram as well... Nothing would be the same again. But, her flash of annoyance passed as quick as Aram's flash of anger as Samar tried to push those thoughts from her mind; she was too tired for that now. Samar shifted in her seat beside him, curling up as close to him as she could. As they had all slowly regained some sense of time moving at its normal speed again, as opposed to sitting at their desks stunned, almost frozen in time, Cooper had eventually ordered the office shut down temporarily in Liz's memory, and sent everyone home. Somehow Samar had ended up following Aram home as if on autopilot. Neither had said a word as they walked the slow walk down to the basement from the war room; it was a simple, mutually understood, silent communication that they shared, concluded quite simply by Aram's murmur of 'I'll see you in a bit' and Samar's responding nod, as they each clambered into their separate vehicles. It was a comfort to them both, really; not to be alone but instead, take solace in their shared grief. Samar's fingers curled around the television and dvd player remotes that lay in the tiny fraction of couch space that remained between them, and she noted the Doctor Who dvds laying scattered over the coffee table in front of them. Clearly he had been watching them again. No matter the fact that she hadn't been to Aram's place in a while, it was yet another comfort to know some things never changed. Samar pressed down on the television power button. The dvd menu suddenly appeared on the screen; Doctor Who, as predicted, was indeed the very last thing Aram had been watching. Samar switched remotes and pressed play on the next episode the disc was up to, and Aram's arm wrapped around her shoulder. Samar closed her eyes as the episode began to play, and Aram rested his head on hers. Neither of them were hungry; they both felt too miserable, and too empty for that. All they both wanted was simply to sit there, grieving quietly... Together.

Chapter Text

Out of sheer habit, Samar and Aram walked along the busy street with coffees in hand –not that they were really paying the coffee much attention. Those foam cups remained half-full, and slowly going cold, while they were killing time so to speak, before meeting Ressler back at the Post Office to go to Liz's funeral.  

One week on from her death, and they were both still trying desperately to process Liz's loss. Accidentally falling asleep side by side on Aram's couch in front of the television on that first night had been somewhat of a comfort at least and so, in the week that had followed –and with not a whole lot to do while the Post Office was closed for the week- they had spent many of their days and evenings together. Not all, but many. They continued to take solace and comfort in not having to eat dinner or come up with ways to pass the time alone. Overall, they had woken up on one of their respective couches four mornings of the seven –not that there was anything even vaguely romantic about it at all, simply that they were exhausted, and still grieving together. They had realised in hindsight that perhaps it was a good thing after all, that neither of them had yet bothered to sort and return the various clothes and other effects they had left at each others' apartments, because having them still there on those mornings made things just that little bit easier... And really, at this point, Samar and Aram appreciated every tiny, helpful thing the universe could throw at them.  

From Samar's apartment on this particular morning, they had made their way to the coffee shop without really thinking about it. Aram sat, and scrawled notes on a loose piece of paper as they sat and waited for their order; the very words he knew he wanted to say at Liz's burial later that afternoon. Samar watched him quietly, reflecting just as he was. The warmest memories were the most difficult now; those happy moments that had brought such smiles to their faces before the tragedy that took Liz away, now only emphasised what they had lost... And what they might never have again. With coffees finally in hand, they moved on; walking down the street side by side, but absentmindedly... Until a shifty-looking man leaning up against the wall of an alleyway that ran off the street, caught Aram's eye. He paused for a moment, contemplating the very idea. It wasn't as if he hadn't smoked any kind of illicit substance before; they were far from uncommon findings on a college campus filled with fellow quirky brainiacs. But, Aram had never been a regular user of anything of the sort; those rare occasions where he had smoked, were in moments of absolute stress.  

...Though really, if any day recently had to qualify as a moment of absolute stress, it would be today.

Aram couldn't bear the idea of not saying what he had written earlier, at Liz's funeral. They were the words he so desperately needed to say if he was to have any hope whatsoever, of trying to get out some kind of goodbye. But, he was so nervous, so upset... Aram was seriously doubtful that he would manage to get those words out. He took one step off their absentminded path and headed towards the shifty looking man, and then another. There were probably less shifty ways to get his hands on what he wanted, but this was the only source right in front of him. Aram suddenly paused, doubting himself and his choices once more, until Samar's hand came gently to rest on his arm.
'What are you doing?' She murmured in his ear. Aram tilted his head to gesture at the alleyway, and Samar followed his gaze. A look of understanding –albeit, of the concerned variety- crossed her face. 'Are you sure you want to do that?' Her voice sounded again. Aram nodded adamantly, and Samar let go of his arm. It wasn't something she had tried that many times herself before –the occasions were almost exclusively during undercover Mossad operations where such an act was necessary to uphold her cover, but she could understand the appeal nonetheless and besides, she had done enough other questionable things before too. Who was she to criticise Aram for making such a choice when technically, it was legal in DC. Aram hesitated though, before taking another step, clearly nervous about the purchase itself. Samar reached for the cash curled up in his hand and took it in hers, before lightly patting his arm. 'I'll go,' she muttered, giving Aram a small, reassuring nod. 'Stay here, I'll be back in a minute.'

Samar hurried across, making the transaction as seemingly effortlessly as someone who had done it a hundred times before, and Aram stood back, watching. For once, he was glad of her Mossad training... For the way it enabled her to subtly blend in wherever she wanted. She hurried back to his side as quickly as she had left it, slipping the small plastic bag that encased three joints, deftly into his pocket.  

And from there, off they went; to the Post Office, to the service, and then to the burial... Back to the Post Office again for their quick team briefing before it officially re-opened the next day to launch the final investigation into Liz's case... And then, back to Aram's apartment.

/*/*/*/*

Aram's apartment was filled with quiet, as they both reflected on the day that had passed; the way they had sat there side by side on the pews, both of them teary eyed, and Samar quietly sliding her hand across to hold his when he began to sniffle... The way that they had barely managed to hold themselves together long enough to carry the casket to its transport, and then needing that embrace on the church steps before getting in the car to go to the burial... And the way Aram had struggled to get those words out, but he did it nonetheless, and then Samar had patted his back and linked her arm tightly through his before guiding him away. Everything, even the briefing and then dinner after that, all felt like some kind of awful, devastating blur.  

Now they stood quietly in the kitchen washing and drying the last couple of plates and utensils, and putting them away... All the while, those last two joints just sat there in the counter, almost teasing them. They both tried not to stare at the temptation, or let each other catch them staring. But, they both felt so awful, and so miserable, they eventually just stopped caring. Aram picked up both joints from the counter, before gingerly reaching out to hand one to Samar.
'May as well use them to get rid of them?' He mumbled. Samar shrugged nonchalantly and took the spare joint from him. They both knew it was far from the most responsible or sensible way to deal with their grief but right now, they just didn't care anymore. In less than twenty four hours, they had to try and pull their regular day, professional masks back on, and get back to work no matter how awful they still felt. It wasn't fair to Liz's memory to leave it any longer before beginning the hunt for her killer but for now at least, they had this one final night of irrationality before forcing themselves to be sensible once more. Aram lit his joint, before handing the lighter to Samar. He took a deep breath in, then exhaled, and then did it again. Samar followed suit.  

/*/*/*/*

Samar awoke, bleary eyed, and stared around at her surroundings. The room seemed familiar and yet, not quite what she was expecting. She blinked a couple more times as she lay on her side, trying to remember the night before. Everything after that joint was a blur even fuzzier than the day it had followed... Ever so vaguely, she recalled finding no ice cream left in Aram's freezer, and laughingly declaring a national emergency. She recalled an unnecessarily amusing walk down to the corner store just a block away from Aram's building to buy more, both of them trying –and failing- to act sober as they did so. She remembered giggling at Aram for 'giggling like a little girl'… And she remembered collapsing on the couch upon their return, both of them a little more handsy with each other than usual, when curling up with their ice cream in front of Doctor Who, fully expecting to fall asleep innocently right there on the couch as they had so many other nights in the past week... Except, they hadn't. They had been too deprived of their inhibitions, and too engrossed in their high. Samar winced as it all came back to her, and she rolled over to see Aram equally dishevelled and lacking clothes, and just starting to wake up himself. His eyes flickered open and he looked around as the memories seemingly flashed before his eyes too. He hurriedly turned his head on the pillow, staring across the bed at her, and his eyes went wide in alarm.
'Oh no...' Aram sighed, before suddenly peeking under the covers to double check that yes, he was indeed, stark naked. Samar rolled her eyes.
'Morning, to you too,' she lazily muttered back.
'Did we...?' Aram didn't even need to finish the question before he trailed off and grimaced, completely embarrassed by his behaviour. Samar pulled the covers up a little closer to her chin for his sake, before responding;
'It's fuzzy to me too, but I'm going to go with yes, we probably did.' It was a little awkward, but not so utterly horrifying once the shock and surprise wore off. It was, after all, nothing they hadn't seen of each other before... Nor something either of them expected never to see again, given that they were trying to slowly pull the pieces back together. Aram paused to take a deep breath as quickly processed that information, before rolling onto his own side, facing Samar across the bed, and letting out a small, guilty smile. To his relief, and even comfort, Samar smiled back just as guiltily.  

At least they agreed with each other on that front.

'You know we can't do that again, right?' He asked quietly, 'at least, not just yet, anyway...'
'I figured that much.' Samar's voice was gentle, almost amused in fact, as she gave a small nod. A brief silence fell between them; both of them now surprisingly comfortable with just laying there like that, but still trying to figure out exactly how modest they were supposed to be or not be with each other in this particular scenario, given their current boundary between friendship and potential future relationship, take two.

Aram instinctively reached forward to brush the loose hair off Samar's face as he always had done before, immediately bringing back memories of the same. He quickly recoiled, and Samar shifted her gaze away for a second.

'I don't know what's going to happen now...' She whispered, a pang of sadness lingering in her voice. Aram furrowed his brow in confusion.
'You mean, with us?'
'With us... With the taskforce... Without Liz, who knows what Reddington will do now? Who knows if it'll all continue?' Samar took another sharp breath before finally meeting Aram's gaze once more; 'I finally felt like I was home. I don't want to have to leave again now...' Aram paused, staring at her, completely taken by surprise for a moment, and Samar's cheeks suddenly reddened with embarrassment. 'You wanted me to talk to you more...' She added quietly, when he didn’t respond. If ever there was a time to let herself be vulnerable with him, to talk to him about what was going through her mind, laying there next to him was probably it. 
'No, no, I know,' Aram quickly piped up. 'I do want you to talk to me more, I just... Didn't realise you felt like you were home... Not after everything with your brother, and...' He trailed off awkwardly. It wasn't necessary to continue after that. 
'It was just before that, that I realised.' Samar glanced back at him, and Aram let out a soft smile. He reached across the top of the covers, to give her hand a quick squeeze. 
'I'm glad,' he murmured back. 'Surprised... But, glad.' And he was glad that she was taking his words to heart and trying to let him in, despite the fact it wasn’t always easy for her.

Aram glanced over his shoulder at the alarm clock on the nightstand; they had woken up much earlier than the time the alarm was set for. They had time –not a lot, but time nonetheless- before they had to clamber out of bed, put their game faces back on, forget that this brief, twisted fairy-tale-esque moment had ever happened, go back to being just friends again, and return to the awful reality of those bittersweet memories and finding justice for Liz. But in the meantime, the alarm still hadn't sounded yet.
'So...' Samar shot him a small, weary smile, 'is there anything on your mind that you want to talk about?'

Chapter Text

Aram stood there, shaking his head in disbelief. Yet another day gone, in just as much of a blur as the last few. Grief was doing him no favours when it came to keeping track of time. The brief flash of surreal happiness from waking up that morning next to Samar had vanished quickly; within moments of returning to the Post Office and beginning the morning briefing, it was clear. Aram just couldn't bring himself to get to work as normal, or as if this case wasn't so personal and upsetting.  

Samar had gently pulled him aside immediately afterwards, and suggested he take one more personal day, but Aram couldn't quite do that either. He went home as instructed, albeit briefly. But, he couldn't sit still with nothing to do. He wanted justice. He just didn't know how to find it. And so, he called Dembe, and he tracked down Reddington... Not that it really seemed to help. Needless to say he sent the occasional text back and forth with Samar, to let them all know what he was doing, and she kept him updated on the war room's side of things.

Though, she very pointedly neglected to mention anything about her dust up with Nez Rowan.

By the time Aram returned, Samar had pulled that forever annoying, loose, shorter section of her hair down across her cheek, covering at least part of the bruise. That, combined with Aram's own absentminded misery as he almost seemed to look straight past her, meant he didn't even notice the bruise at first. Once he managed to pull himself back on track, figure out the connection to the Artax Network, and finally feel like he was getting somewhere, Aram regained his sense of focus and then he did notice... In the break room, when he instinctively swept the hair off her face out of habit while they were making coffee, and he suddenly recoiled in horror. Samar of course, insisted she was fine -not frustratedly or dismissively as she sometimes used to when she grew tired of his worrying but rather, gently and reassuringly. It was just a bruise from a fist fight... Or rather, a gun butt. Either way, there were no broken bones. Thankfully, Aram let it go after that.  

Needless to say, after their slip up the night before, they both agreed it was probably a good idea to go home separately, back to their own separate apartments this time... And that was where Aram found himself now; tucking into the leftovers of their high-induced ice cream run from the night before, and marathoning some more old favourite movies because he couldn't sleep. Or at least, that was what he had been doing before Reddington suddenly showed up, unannounced. Now he still stood in his front doorway, staring out in disbelief at the newly empty hallway where Reddington had just strolled away from him.

Aram slowly closed the door and trudged back inside, deciding to take another shot at sleeping even though his mind was still swirling with worried thoughts... About why on earth he seemed to fall asleep so easily on the couch next to Samar, but not by himself, as he had noted over the last week... About how he was going to explain Reddington's appearance to the team tomorrow morning... And about the idea that this was now the second time Reddington had showed up at his door unannounced with a case, and hopefully it wouldn't become a trend...

/*/*/*/*

'Patience...' Aram murmured to Tom beside him, before turning away from his monitor to glance down at his desk and then absentmindedly over to Samar where she stood across the room, sorting paperwork. 'Patience...' Tom followed his gaze as it lingered in that direction one second too long.  

Samar looked up curiously at them in response to the staring, before shaking it off and returning her attention to her work. Aram had been up and down all over the place in the day and a half since arriving at work the morning after Reddington visited his apartment again; everything from losing his cool over the phone when he thought she and Ressler had let a suspect get away, to trying far too hard to recover his cool by comparing field strategy to the Fast and Furious movies. Whether that meant he was struggling to figure out how he felt about their accidental, high-induced night together, or simply still running on a stressful lack of sleep –and thus, marathoning yet another series of old favourite movies- Samar didn't know. But at least this time, and unlike the last time Reddington had stopped by Aram's apartment to give him the Djinn case, Samar didn't feel such a jealous, miserable pang in her gut. There was still a strange churning feeling, but it was more in response to the fact that this was yet further incidence of how they were both changing in the way they responded to each other.  

'I think you might be a little too patient,' Tom muttered back, glancing back and forth between both Samar and Aram. Aram suddenly looked up from his desk in alarm. 
'What?' Tom gave a small nod to gesture in Samar's direction, and Aram instantly faltered as he shifted his gaze back to her for a split second before meeting Tom's eye again. 'Oh...' Aram sighed to himself, 'no... No, no, no, no, no... Believe me,' Aram dropped his gaze to his desk and sighed again, shaking his head, 'you wouldn't understand.' There was no way Tom could understand. Tom didn't know of any of the things that had happened between him and Samar. Tom didn't know they had hit that reset button. 
'You know this is going to end, right?' Tom spoke again, coincidentally echoing the very idea Samar had shared her fears of, now two mornings earlier... That very idea that not only Samar but Aram too, had worried about since Liz's passing. 'Reddington was only here because of Liz.' Aram stared miserably at his desk as he listened intently to Tom's words only emphasising his anxieties; 'you, Samar, all of you, were only here because of her. So, before it ends... Just tell her.' Aram furrowed his brow, staring back at Tom again, and Tom ducked just ever so slightly to murmur a little quieter; 'you never know what she's going to say, unless you do.'  

Aram glanced wistfully at Samar for a second before the sounds of a new phone call came through the tap he had running on his computer and he had to get back to work. It was all so much more complicated than Tom thought it was. Tom thought Samar didn't know how Aram felt... But she did. Though, that didn't stop Tom's words from anxiously rattling around inside Aram's head; they may have been guided by misunderstanding, but Tom's overall point still stood. Aram still cared deeply for Samar, and he still wanted her back. Not to mention, after that morning where they woke up side by side and Samar had started to talk to him again, it was clear; she wasn't necessarily comfortable with the idea, but Samar knew it was necessary, and she was willing to do whatever it took to let him in and earn his trust again. That, combined with Tom's words about telling Samar how he felt, almost made Aram wonder why he was still insisting on making Samar wait so long.  

But the on the other hand, Tom had only confirmed what they were all thinking. None of them really knew what was going to happen next, or where the taskforce was going. The risk that Samar may suddenly be reassigned elsewhere, still hung in the air, looming over both her and Aram's heads like a threatening storm cloud bracing to rain heavily down on them at any second... And for all Aram's slowly growing confidence, he was still scared to lose Samar again so soon.  

If he was to ask her back, only for them to be forced apart right afterwards, it would only make things one hundred times worse.  

It could be as utterly simple as telling her that he loved her, and them just taking it day by day after that... Or, it could be so much more complicated. And overall, Tom's words only intensified that internal conflict.  

Chapter Text

The morning team briefing at the Post Office was done. The trip to visit the Grey Matters facility was done. The faux bank robbery –which still bothered Samar, despite the fact she also still had no better ideas- was also done. It was a long day.  

Samar was pretty sure that she was just about done with it all too.

Just being in the same room with Nez Rowan was aggravating, let alone having to cooperate with her after that sick, twisted smile. That in particular, had bothered Samar all day. But now, with the Grey Matters team and Tom all back at their own headquarters, sorting out how to abduct a Turkish diplomat, the regular taskforce had a reprieve.

Well, a temporary reprieve. Aram would undoubtedly be called back in at some point for his expertise, but the rest of them really only had to worry about turning up to the Post Office tomorrow as they normally would, to see what was happening next. But for the moment, it was just nice to whip up another batch of their shared favourite lentil soup again, especially after that stressful day. Samar set the two bowls of steaming hot soup down on the table between her kitchen counter and living room space, Aram trailing along right behind her with spoons, and a few slices of fresh bread on a plate.  

They both sat down at the table, savouring the delicious aroma, and swapping small, awkward smiles. Aram was still debating with himself what to do, especially given how close they were to bringing down the man who had orchestrated the entire affair that had led to Liz's death and thus, how close they were to the taskforce potentially being split up forever. On one hand, it was such a comfort to return to some of the old habits –like the lentil soup- as if everything was perfectly normal again but on the other hand, there was an intense –and awkward- awareness that well, things still weren't perfectly normal again. Not at all. And, they probably wouldn't be for a while.  

Drawing it out and waiting, was finally starting to nag at both of them. And yet, they were in a limbo that really wasn't quite so self-imposed anymore. It was up to Reddington now, and to a certain extent, Mossad too. But in the meantime, they were both just as determined to try and keep moving forwards.

Aram took a tiny mouthful of his soup; not enough to burn off all his tastebuds at once, but just enough to savour the flavour –that very flavour he had once thought he would never taste again. Samar couldn't help but smirk as Aram struggled not to let out a contented sigh. 
'What?' He grumbled –albeit only lightly- as he caught her eye. 'I can't decide if this soup is a blessing or a curse. Nothing else is as good.' Samar gave a wry smile.
'It was my mother's recipe,' she murmured, before pausing to take a mouthful of soup herself, 'her old notebook was one of the few things I held on to when I left, but the pages were so faded by the time I could bring myself to look at it again, it took me a while to get it just right.' Samar dropped her gaze to the table for a second, her face barely lit by the tiniest of wistful smiles as she reflected. Aram reached across the table to gently squeeze her hand, glad to hear yet another of those small, seemingly insignificant thoughts that ran through Samar's mind and once upon a time, she would have usually kept to herself and pulled a face instead. Now at least, she gave them voice more often... And Aram filed each and every precious factoid away in the back of his mind.
'I think you've got it perfect,' he grinned back at her, before pulling his hand away again. Silence fell between them again for a moment, as they each sat and quietly enjoyed their dinner.  

'What are you thinking?' Aram suddenly asked, breaking the silence as he eyed the contemplative expression on her face. Samar glanced back at him, now jolted from her internal musings; Aram had taken to asking her that on occasion lately. It was his way of trying to help her ease into talking to him about what was bothering her or how she was feeling. Samar took a slow, thoughtful breath... And then another spoonful of soup, before speaking again.
'The sooner I don't have to work with Nez Rowan anymore, the better,' she said flatly. Aram nodded slowly in understanding, the memory of Tom having to stop Samar from charging at Nez earlier in the day, still clear in his mind. 'I don't like Solomon either. I don't trust him, but I'll work with him this once if I absolutely have to. Nez on the other hand....' Samar gritted her teeth in frustration as she trailed off for a moment. She suddenly looked intently at Aram, her brow furrowed. 'You didn't stop me this morning, Tom did. Why?' Aram quickly averted his gaze, staring guiltily at the table.
'Tom was closer to you at the time,' Aram shrugged, trying to brush off the question. Samar paused, one eyebrow raised questioningly as she waited for the two seconds it would inevitably take for Aram to follow up with his more serious answer. She could read him just as easily as he could read her. Aram gave a small sigh as he reluctantly met her gaze once more. 'Ok...' He began, the memory of the dark purple bruise that had lined the side of her face after Nez's attack, still bothering him ever so slightly, 'she attacked you. I wasn't going to confront her about it but hey, if you wanted to, I wasn't going to stop you from doing whatever it was that you were going to do to her. I know better than that.' Samar eyed the expression on his face; it was almost as if Aram was annoyed at himself for the fact that yet again , there seemed to be another human being on the planet he counted as an exception to his rule about not hurting people. In short, he didn't like Nez either. Or Solomon, really.  

Or, Grey Matters' own strategic technician of sorts; Dumont... But that was an entirely different issue. Dumont was just irritating.  

Nonetheless, Samar decided to drop that particular issue, and go back to the question Aram had asked her. That was what they were supposed to be talking about. 
'You know I've done some...' Samar paused again, trying to think of the most diplomatic term, 'not particularly great things, right?' Aram nodded quickly, and Samar continued; 'I do those things, and without really blinking now either. They've become normal... But that doesn’t mean I enjoy them. I wanted justice for my parents, for my brother... When I tracked down their killers or the people I thought killed them, I did what I did because I felt I had to, but I didn't enjoy it. I've done a lot of questionable things, and I've killed a lot of people both for Mossad, and not-' Aram forced himself not to flinch at that '-I do what I do because someone in the world has to, but I don't enjoy inflicting that pain.' Samar bitterly shook her head, and gritted her teeth.
'I know that,' Aram said quietly. His shoulders were tensed, not entirely comfortable with the sudden turn of conversation to details of the things Samar had done, but he steadied himself. Samar eyed the tensed shoulders, fighting off the thought that talking to him about all the things in her head wasn't as good an idea as Aram thought it was, or that perhaps she did need to protect him from some of her reality after all... But Aram quickly pulled himself together, and motioned for her to keep talking. 
He had asked her to talk to him more, not matter the fact she didn't always want to, and he knew what he was potentially getting himself into when he made that very request. The least he could do, was fight through his own small amount of discomfort; that kind of trauma was a part of Samar's life forever, and he accepted that just as she had accepted the reality that she had to talk about it.  

Samar shot him a gentle smile, waiting for him to process before she unloaded any more of what he was so determined to hear. 
'Nez isn't the same as me,' she muttered bitterly. 'You don't attack unarmed people on the ground unless there's the distinct possibility they're going to get up again and keep trying to hurt you... But when I was dragging Stalder through that hotel service entrance and Nez intercepted us, she knocked my weapon to the ground and I had to dive to stop Stalder falling down the stairs. I was on the ground, and I wasn't going anywhere. Nez could have run after that, but she didn't. She pistol whipped me, and kicked me in the side-' Aram couldn’t stop himself from flinching there '-and she smiled when she did it, Aram.' Samar growled to herself under her breath. 'I don't shy away from violence when I'm out of other options, but taking that extra step to hurt someone just for the fun of it is different. Vengeance is one thing, but I'm not sadistic. Nez is, and that's what bothers me. When I was angry this morning, she smiled about it again. You didn't see it because you were standing behind her, but she thought it was funny. I can't stand people like her.' Samar shuddered and quietly turned back to her soup, taking to the bowl with her spoon with what was probably a little more frustration than really necessary. She sighed as a few drops of soup splashed onto her sleeve as a result, and Aram instantly rose from the table.
'Here, let me,' he said, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder to stop her from moving as he ducked the two steps into the kitchen and back again to reach for a tea towel. 
'I'm sorry,' Samar sighed again, 'that was probably too much talking about what I was thinking...' And yet, despite how reluctant she had been to discuss it all with him when he first asked, she somehow felt a little better about being stuck working with Nez now –albeit also more covered in soup.
'Actually,' Aram began, as he returned to her side with the tea towel, and Samar rose from her own seat to try and clean herself up, 'I was only going to reassure that I know you're different from Nez.' Without even thinking about it, Aram again reached forward to brush the loose strands of hair off her face. 'Remember our first fight? You walked straight up to that van rigged to explode, to save that little boy... Just because you don't like to see kids hurt.' Samar rested her head lightly against his hand for a moment where it still lingered there, closing her eyes and instantly remembering how frustrating that case was. Somewhere in her mind, it registered that Aram had moved closer to her still, and his arms had wrapped around her, pulling her in close. 'You're not a sadist, Sami. A sadist wouldn't care the way you do,' he whispered in her ear. A breath caught in Samar's throat at that, and she remained standing there, nestled in his arms quite contentedly and not wanting to pull away until she absolutely had to. Finally she opened her eyes again and looked up at him, her dark golden eyes silently asking that question she desperately wanted the answer to, but was so hesitant to voice; when could she just stand there like that again without having to pull away? Aram studied her face, knowing exactly what she was asking and if anything, still asking himself the same question.

'Soon,' he eventually murmured back, his voice barely more than a whisper, 'hopefully, soon.'

Chapter Text

'Thank god Kirk wasn't in that car,' Cooper had said, with a curt, but understanding nod. Ressler turned his gaze away, looking down at the floor for a moment before frowning bitterly. 
'Well now we know why,' he said, still not quite meeting Cooper's gaze at first. 'Reddington called from the air.'
'Let's hope he gets to Tom and Agnes.' Those hopeful words hung in the air, and at first, Ressler didn't quite know how to voice to his boss, what Reddington had just told him on the phone. Finally, Ressler looked up. 
'And Liz,' he added. 'She's alive.'

/*/*/*/*

Somehow, and miraculously, Reddington, Dembe, and Mr Kaplan had indeed arrived in time... Just. Tom had ducked the final swing of his attacker, knocking him down instead and then running with Agnes until he found Liz tied up in a dark van parked around the back of the house. They were shaken, and a little worn around the edges so to speak, but they were going to be ok. Reddington called from his jet once again to share the news and needless to say, once it was confirmed that Liz was alive and safe... The entire Post Office heard about it.

Well, nearly.

A few had already left, Aram included. Samar had stayed to finish off a final report, but once she heard the news, there was no more concentrating on reports.

Liz was alive...

Aram needed to hear the news too.... But not by phone. It was too important.

Samar shut down her computer, grabbed her bag, and raced towards the elevator...

She had somewhere to be.

/*/*/*/*

The knock on the door at that late an hour was the last thing Aram was expecting but regardless, he was still awake enough to answer it.  

Aram opened the door, only to find Samar standing there. Her shoulders were tense with anticipation, but the expression on her face was unreadable. Her eyes were wild, but hopeful.  Aram wasn't sure what to make of it all.

Not to mention, while on one hand he was happy to see her suddenly turn up, on the other hand he was cautious. He still hadn't made up his mind about what to do. As much as they were making progress, and as much as he had promised her 'soon'… The reality still hung in the air that with Liz gone, and her death being Reddington's last case, the taskforce was closing. Samar would be reassigned by Mossad to the middle of who knew where, so even though Aram knew for sure he wanted her back now, he was hesitant to say so... Especially when she was probably about to ripped away from him all over again.
'Hey,' Samar said simply. Her voice was breathless, almost as if she had run all the way up the stairs to his front door.
'Hi,' Aram murmured back curiously, 'uh, what are you doing here?'
'I couldn't go home,' Samar breathed back. Aram stepped sideways so that she could walk in and he could close the door behind her, but the whole while his brow furrowed in utter confusion. 
'Wha-' He tried to ask.
'-It's Liz,' Samar cut him off, albeit gently. She fell quiet for a moment, and Aram simply stared back at her, wondering... Questioning... What on earth was going on. 'She's alive.' A breath caught in Aram's throat. He wasn't quite sure that he believed what he had just heard. Sure, he had heard the words come tumbling out of Samar's mouth, but... They had buried Liz.
'Alive?' Aram choked on the words in surprise. 
'Yep,' Samar said, nodding in disbelief all of her own. She bit her lip, staring back at him... Watching him. Aram's eyes finally rose from the floor to meet hers; he was still processing it all, just as she was. 'I couldn't not come and tell you, when I heard,' Samar added softly. For one, he needed to know. Secondly, there was no way Samar wanted to go home and be alone with that revelation swirling around in her head.

And then, all of a sudden, Aram lunged forward... And wrapped his arms tightly around her.

No words passed between them. Neither of them could even find words to say. It was clear enough without them; they were stunned, but so very happy to know that Liz was alive and safe. They stood there like that, silent and just behind the front door, with arms wrapped around one another for what felt like an eternity. Samar's buried her face against Aram's shoulder, and he buried his in her hair. Finally, Aram raised his head just high enough to speak muffled words against her dark, messy curls.
'Wait... Where is she now, then?' He asked quietly.
'When Reddington called, Liz, Tom and Agnes were all on his jet, on the way back to DC.' Samar shifted her head from where it leaned against Aram's shoulder, smiling softly up at him instead. 'They might have landed by now.' Aram did a double take.
'Do we need to go?' He yelped. If Liz was already back, Aram wanted to see her. He wanted to see her with his own eyes, and hug her with his own arms. 
'I asked,' Samar said, shaking her head. 'But, they're tired. Liz needs a couple of stitches in a cut on her hairline, and Agnes will need to be settled... It's going to be a late night for them, but we'll see them in the morning.'
'We have to wait until the morning? But... What are we supposed to do until then?' Samar had no answer. She too, was impatient and longing to see their Liz... But, they didn't have a choice.  

All they really could do, was wait out the night... Another reason that Samar hadn't wanted to go home. At least this way, they could wait together, rather than alone with their minds' anxious wanderings.

Samar rested her fingertips softly against his cheek, still staring back at him. Both of them were too wild eyed and stunned to sleep, no matter how late it was... And both of them were struggling for words. There was just all too much going on; both between them, and now with the revelation that Liz was alive.

...And if Liz was alive and coming back, then that meant the taskforce didn't have to close...

Aram's eyes widened a little as the realisation hit home.

...And if the taskforce didn't have to close, then Samar didn't have to leave...

Somewhere in Aram's mind, it registered that as his head had tilted forwards, Samar had leaned in... Now, their noses were nearly touching. His one remaining hesitation about finally pressing the reset button was now gone.

And then his lips found themselves crashing against hers... And Samar didn't pull away. Instead she leaned in further, her arms sliding over his shoulders and around the back of his neck, pulling him in ever closer. Aram was pushing the hair back off her face, then grasping around her waist, kissing her furiously... Passionately... Until eventually, they both had to breathe. 
'Finally,' Aram sighed contentedly, taking a breath. Still they lingered close to one another, wrapped around each other, both breathing heavily but more or less in perfect synchronisation. Samar raised a curious eyebrow.           
'What?' She asked softly. Aram simply smiled, his eyes crinkling with a hint of gentle amusement.
'We went back to the beginning again,' he reminded her. 'The way we started, but in reverse... Remember?' That first night they had spent together –that first night that had started everything- began when she had first spontaneously kissed him in the living room after a long day. It only made sense that if they were starting again but the opposite to the way they had started the first time around, Aram was waiting to find a moment where he was ready to make that spontaneous move himself. Samar's eyes widened in instant understanding, and then she playfully punched him in the arm. 
'What if I never figured that out?' She exclaimed, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation. After all of her waiting for some kind of signal or cue that he was ready to really start again, and all of her desperately trying not to ask him what it was, all it came down to was him finding that opportunity. Samar shook her head, but made no move to push him away. Instead, she rested her head once more against his shoulder, her breathing finally slowed to normal again.
'I had faith we'd get there eventually,' Aram mused, happy as she sank into his arms.  

'Don't ever let me go again,' Samar whispered slowly. It wasn't easy for her to let her guard down the way he wanted her to, but she was ready. She was ready to let him in, to let him be there for her at her worst as he had always been there for her at her best, and she was ready to let her softer side see the light every once in a while, instead of keeping it all bottled up. Aram knew that for sure now... And, he was ready too; ready to trust and to try that road again. Aram kissed the top of her head again, sighing contentedly as he responded; 
'I won't.'  

Samar smiled against his shoulder, and Aram tightened his arms around her a little more. There was no knowing what each next day was going to bring them but right now, both of them were utterly content.  

And right there, in that moment, she was home...