Disclaimer: Not mine. And a warning - some dirty words are used! :P
One
Liz knew with sickening certainty that Red loved her. He had told or shown her so on many occasions; drunk or high, distressed or desperate – but always, always honest. Liz knew with much more maddening certainty that it didn't matter that she loved him as well.
The Concierge of Crime could not afford the vulnerability of being in a relationship, and Raymond Reddington was scared as hell of endangering someone he loved, hence the current distance between them. It was notoriously known that Red didn't care for his bed companions.
She should have seen it coming, but she hadn't. Anyone who had observed them together knew that Red was interested in her wellbeing, but as long as their relationship had remained purely platonic, it had been ok. As long as they had argued and fought, not even a hint of romantic interest on either side in sight, it had been ok.
But she had crossed the line. After Red's first confession of his love for her, she had moved their relationship from a purely platonic to a very physical level.
He had been high that night and Liz – half annoyed and half amused – had teased him about the pink elephants that hadn't been dancing in the backyard despite his insistence that they had performed a wonderful tango.
Red had laughed and then he had suddenly stopped and gazed at her with such a heartbreaking expression on his face that it had taken her breath away. He had sighed and hugged her, murmuring in her ear: "Oh, I love you a little more with every laugh you manage to elicit from me, Lizzie."
What else could she have done than to kiss him, then?
So, Liz blamed those pink elephants for her current situation. After that first night, Red had been distant – nothing had changed at work, of course, he still spoke only to her – but their emotional closeness seemed to be nonexistent… with several exceptions.
Every time a mission went wrong and Liz found herself under fire, or in danger, Red went berserk and after the danger passed, he frantically searched her for any injuries, devastated and shaken, "I was so scared, love, so scared, dearest," escaping his mouth as he held her tightly and then proceeded to make personally sure that there was no lasting damage on her body. Every time he had a little too much to drink, he came to her door not saying much – just kissing her, loving her, and incoherently mumbling about how much he missed her, how much he needed her and how much he loved her – only to be gone in the morning and reserved during their next meeting.
She was quite powerless to stop him and unable to say no, mainly because she needed him and wanted him just as much as he did and the desperation in his eyes was simply irresistible.
Liz wasn't a profiler for nothing, so she understood what was going through his head; Red was simply attempting to protect her and perhaps, to some extent, he felt undeserving of another chance at happiness.
She didn't doubt the depth of his devotion and love for her and that and only that was the reason why Liz hadn't had broken his nose yet. She told herself over and over again to be patient, to wait for him to come back from behind his walls, to slowly show him that he had her heart and body and soul, to show him that he didn't need to be afraid of letting her in on all levels. She could take care of herself, so there wouldn't be any repeated performance of the Christmas twenty years ago.
But her patience was wearing thin with his stubbornness, with his constant attempts to push her away only to be drawn back to her in the end. It was tiring, it was exhausting and it fucking hurt.
It simply hurt and she refused to take it anymore – especially since her doctor had confirmed what one little test had told her in the morning. Now it was almost nine p.m. and Liz finally managed to pluck up courage to tell him. He needed to know, and he needed to get his head out of his ass. Afraid or not, he was going to be a father again.
Liz had stopped using pills after the debacle with Tom and with Red, well, she hadn't been obviously careful enough, or the safe had just failed which was actually the most probable explanation. They hadn't been exactly gentle once or twice… or several times.
As she neared the house, Red's bodyguard appeared before she could even think about knocking. He slipped out and gently closed the door without a sound. There was something nice, warm and fluffy in his eyes when looked at her, but his expression was saddened. "Elizabeth."
"Hey, Dembe." She felt her shoulders sagging. Liz knew that look – not quite pity, but close. It meant only one thing – Red had company and Liz would not be thrilled. It was Red's newest attempt to push her away from him, she was sure that he wanted her to run screaming from him without looking back. She wanted to scream, yes, and then proceed to strangle him. "Now it's a bad time, I guess?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"How long do you think this will take? I need to talk to him."
Dembe remained silent and took a breath. His expression changed slightly and he offered her his arm. "Will you walk with me, Liz?"
Oh, well. Shorter chapters, but it's much longer than any story I'written so far. Hih, hope you'll have fun :)
