Does anyone else miss the old Disney Stores and the way they used to look and be displayed? I remember as a kid the store displays used to be so enchanting and I felt like I was at the parks or something.
There was something always going on in the front display showcasing something from an old short or even a classic disney film.
And if you looked up inside the store there were other displays of various Disney characters from their films.
She comes out of the bedroom to the sound of music playing from the living room.
It is their first night here; by tomorrow, they will be gone. They never stay in one place for long, not with the FBI at their heels, not with all the eyes on them.
Reddington is bent over an old CD player, looking through the cases. Liz smiles, thinking of the other rooms they’ve stayed at, of how delighted he would be when he would spot a turntable, mourning or praising the music selection. The CD player is no turntable, but he still gravitates to it.
“It’s late,” she says softly. “What are you doing?”
He pops out the CD currently playing and inserts another one. The music begins again—a slow, lilting jazz piece that gradually diffuses through the room. He turns around to face her, swaying slightly with the beat. “Unwinding,” he responds, looking so at ease and relaxed that she isn’t sure how much more he can unwind. “It’s been a long day, don’t you think?”
She arches an eyebrow when he moves toward her. He starts to mouth along with the lyrics, and she laughs despite herself. He smiles. Reddington holds his hand out, tilting his head.
Liz hesitates. There is still so much they have to do, people to meet, calls to make. They have been in constant movement; sometimes, it seems as if there will never be an end to this.
His hand falters.
It can wait until morning, she decides, and takes his hand. He leads her to the centre of the room, and she can’t help think of the other time they danced like this, so long ago. They aren’t undercover this time—no fancy attire and no ballrooms, just a small apartment with peeling wallpaper and stolen clothes. So many things have happened since then, she thinks. She has no house, no dog, no husband—
“Lizzy,” he says gently, and she brings herself back to the present. His eyes have not left hers; he looks at her with open affection and a hint of concern. His voice echoes in her mind: You have me.
She closes her eyes and rests her head on his shoulder. He tenses briefly, then presses a kiss to her temple, lingering for a second too long. She lets the music loosen her limbs, and she thinks of nothing but the warmth of his hand on her back and the sound of his voice as he hums along.