AN: A huge thank you goes to jackandsamforever for doing a wonderful job correcting my terrible mistakes. All leftovers are mine by the way.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Blacklist or any of the characters on the show. Something dies inside me whenever I have to write that...

THE BLACKLIST

I Believe I Told You Something

She was confused. No, scratch that. She was only confused about the how and when... not about, well...it. The profiler in her had tried to analyze it, but she had only came to one conclusion: you can't explain love.

Yes, she was in love with him. FBI agent Elizabeth Keen had fallen for number four on the most wanted list, Raymond Reddington. The attraction had been there from the beginning. He was dangerous, sure, but he was also a gentle and caring man, especially when it came to her. The attraction had soon turned into something more. Something she hadn't been able to place. They had become partners then friends, but friends don't make your legs turn to jelly with a single look. Friends don't melt your heart with a single smile. He was her rock, her safe haven; always there to protect her, whatever the costs. They had shared smiles, laughter, and tears.

She had cried in front of him a few times. Her confidence not quite there as she was scared of what was to come. She wasn't a trained field agent, and being undercover was never a piece of cake, even if he was with her. The last time she had cried in front of him was when she finally discovered that he hadn't lied about Tom. She had driven to his safe house, and he had simply turned on that music box as the tears had trailed down her cheeks.

She wasn't simply crying over wasted years with her fake husband. She was also embarrassed for the way she had treated Red, her rock. She had accused him of lying, hurt him with hateful words, and told him to have fun with his project, when in fact, he had been building the box for her comfort. After realizing what he'd done for her, how she had been treating him, and just how deeply his feelings for her were, she had broken down. Not able to hold in the sob that burst from her. He had pulled her to him, and had held her close and kissed her head. He had been there then, just like he had always been. Everything had changed since then. Her heartbeat quickened whenever he was close, goosebumps rose on her skin when he talked in that deep sensual voice and smiled the smile he reserved just for her. She was in love with him. Of that she was sure.

THE BLACKLIST

Liz excited her car and walked up to his front door, or rather the front door of the house he was currently staying at. It was dark out, and her watch read 11:45 pm. Maybe she was developing insomnia, her brain just couldn't seem to stop working long enough so she could fall asleep. She knocked on the door and waited. There was movement inside before the door was pulled open. Well, at least Dembe was getting some shut-eye.

"Lizzie, to what do I owe the pleasure of you visiting me at -" He made to look at his watch. "- a quarter to midnight?"

She swallowed and willed her heart to stop racing. "We need to talk," she said simply, not moving.

He looked surprised at her serious tone of voice. "Please, come in then, it's freezing out there.

She nodded and slid past him as he stepped aside and closed the door behind her. She stood in the middle of the room, unsure how to proceed. "May I take your coat?" He asked from behind her.

Liz turned her head to look at him. "No, thanks, I'm fine."

He gestured with his hand for her to proceed to the living room. "Would you care for a drink? There's a fully stocked bar -"

"I'm fine," she interrupted.

Red waited a beat before pouring himself a drink. He took a sip from the amber liquid, before turning around. "Please...sit."

She shook her head. "I'm -"

"Fine?" He offered sarcastically. "So, you've told me. You don't look it, though. Has something happened?" He looked genuinely concerned now.

"No. Everything's -"

"Fine. Lizzie, there seems to be a pattern here." He took another sip of his scotch, his eyes fixated on her. "Something must be bothering you or you wouldn't be standing here in the middle of the night." He watched as she nervously ran her fingers over the scar on her left hand. There was something bothering her alright. "You said we needed to talk..so talk." When she didn't respond, he made his way past her to sit on the couch. He made a show of brushing her shoulder while walking past, trying to coax something out of her, anything.

"I love you."

His heart stopped, he was sure he was imagining things now. There was just no way - "Pardon me?" He slowly turned to look at her. She was biting her bottom lip, pulling at her sleeve to keep herself from touching her scar.

"I love you," she whispered again and raised her eyes to look into his.

There was a long moment of silence between them, stretching into something fragile and painful. He could barely hear her labored breathing over his own heart beat. She was waiting, although not very patiently as she fidgeted under his gaze.

"You should leave," he said at last.

THE BLACKLIST

She felt numb, her heart was racing, her mind spinning, her lungs weren't filling with air anymore; she was sure she would suffocate. He was staring intently at his glass of scotch, and Liz could feel her heart breaking. She was not going to break down in front of him. She turned on the spot and quickly made her way out of the house, pulling the door shut behind her with a firm 'snap'. Thankfully her car was close, and Liz hastily pulled from the curb.

She didn't drive long though. Tears had made it impossible for her to see the streets clearly, so she pulled over and shut the off engine before breaking into sobs. The man who knew everything about her, who had flirted with her for months while she was still in a marriage she had kept sacred, though had eventually turned out to be a farce, just rejected her. He had planted himself in her life, in her heart, made her fall for his charm. Now that she wanted him, he told her to leave. It confused her and hurt her to no end. She was physically hurting now as well. Her eyes burned with tears, her throat constricted painfully, and her heart felt like it had been stabbed.

THE BLACKLIST

She got home eventually and grabbed a couple of bottles. One was filled with wine, the other held that damn scotch he had brought over one night. She was set on emptying it, and then she would smash it against his front door.

THE BLACKLIST

Red walked into the post office the next morning exhausted. He hadn't gotten any sleep after Liz had left him that previous night. She had caught him off-guard. Not in a million years had he thought that she would utter those three beautiful words to him. She threw him off-balance like no one else. It scared him just how deeply he was in this by now. He had been attracted from the beginning. She was a very beautiful woman, and her intellect was just as sharp as her curves were sexy.

She was one hell of a woman and she didn't even know it. A woman like his Lizzie needed to be spoiled, needed to be cherished, so she knew that she was the center of the universe and so much more. He had to talk to her.

"Donald! It is so good to see you this morning. Where's Agent Keen?"

Ressler turned and looked at the shorter man. "Called in sick this morning. Looks like you'll have to make do with me."

Red laughed out loud. "Oh, Donald, you are a rascal. That was fun. I'll see you later."

The agent frowned at him. "Reddington, she's sick. Can't you leave her alone?"

Red pretended to contemplate that. "Actually... no." He tipped his head and left without another word.

When he opened the front door to her house, which she still hadn't sold, he was greeted by Hudson enthusiastically as he always did when Red came to visit. "Hello, my boy, looking sharp as always I see. Where's my girl?" He scratched the dog behind the ear and headed upstairs after seeing that the ground floor was empty. He almost tripped over an empty bottle of wine on his way up and frowned before moving to the bedroom.

The first thing he noticed was the almost empty bottle of scotch on the bed. He remembered it being at least half full. It looked like his Lizzie had had a party last night. His eyes settled on her. Either she hadn't noticed him or she was ignoring him; it was probably the latter. She was standing in front of her closet throwing dresses and shirts over her shoulder.

"You must be feeling sick if you're doing a spring cleaning in September." She didn't react. Red stepped closer and retrieved a red, knee length dress from the floor and inspected it. "This is quite nice, you should wear it more often and get rid of those olive colors. You're a winter after all." She still wouldn't acknowledge him. "Have you had breakfast yet? I know that beautiful little hole in the wall place -"

"Leave." Her voice sounded hoarse.

Had she been crying? He took a step closer, intending to put a hand on her back. "Sweetheart -"

"I believe I told you to leave." Her shoulders were pushed back too far, her head held too high, and the quiver in her voice told him exactly what was wrong.

"And I believe you told me you love me," he answered.

She shot around and his heart broke at the sight of tears streaming down her face. "Do you enjoy hurting me? Does it give you some kind of sick pleasure?" He shook his head and opened his mouth to answer. "Do you get off on seeing me broken?"

There was that tick under his left eye again. "No." Was all he said before he cupped her face in his hands and crushed his lips to hers. He heard and felt the sob escape her throat and let one of his hands travel to her waist so he could pull her close before winding his arm around her; his lips never left hers.

He could taste the saltiness of her tears as he moved his mouth over hers in what he hoped was a sufficient declaration of his love for her. When he pulled away, they were both breathing heavily. He leaned in and kissed away a tear on her cheek. "I never meant to hurt you, sweetheart. You caught me... off-guard last night. You should know by now that the last thing I would do is intentionally hurt you."

She licked her lips, trying not to show how much she enjoyed tasting him on her lips. "I know. It's okay... I understand." Her voice was fragile and she hated herself for it.

"I don't think you do, sweetheart." His thumb stroked away another tear on her face. "I love you, Lizzie. I've been in love with you for a long time now," he confessed, taking one of her hands that hung slack at her side and putting it against his chest. "Do you feel this? That's what you do to me. With every look, every smile, every touch, you make my heart burst with joy and love. You don't know what it does to me to see you cry, to see you cry because of me. I'm sorry, Lizzie."

She placed her free hand against his cheek, enjoying how his eyes slid shut and how he leaned into her palm. His words had touched her deeply. She had seen the truth in his eyes, felt the honesty with her hand against his heart. He did love her, and that almost made her sob in relief. Before she could break down in tears again, she kissed him once more; sliding her hand behind his head to keep him close. Red moaned against her lips, his fingers curled around her waist as he kissed her back. Cupping her face with his free hand, he felt that the wetness had returned. He pressed his mouth harder against hers before pulling away to look at her.

"Don't cry, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath warm against her wet cheeks. The gentle, loving tone in his voice only made her cry harder. There was so much pain lifting from her heart, and the relief from knowing that he felt the same for her made her hormones go wild. "Lizzie..." He kissed her cheek, then pulled her in a tight embrace, tucking her head under his chin. "No more tears, sweetheart," he whispered against the shell of her ear.

Liz grabbed the front of his vest tightly, wrinkling the garment between her fingers. Her other arm had found its way around his back, resting beneath his suit jacket.

Red had one of his hands running over her back, while his other hand was tangled in her hair. He had pulled the messy pony tail down to gently massage her scalp. He buried his nose in the soft hair at her temple, inhaling her unique scent.

They stood like that for a long time while he occasionally pressed kisses against the side of her head. Liz had calmed down, the tears had stopped, and her breathing had slowed. She turned her head a little and pressed her lips against the side of his chin. Red hummed in approval and turned his head to meet her lips with his. The softness of his lips was something Liz had always dreamed of. She had fantasized several times about him kissing her, his warm lips trailing down her throat... The way he was now moving his mouth lovingly over her made Liz drowsy. She was emotionally spent. Tightening her grip on him she leaned fully against him, trusting that he would hold her.

Red slowly pulled his head back and pressed one last kiss on the tip of her nose before he cupped her cheek to look at her. She had bags under her eyes and was pale, except for the slight rosiness of her cheeks and her red, kiss-swollen lips. "You look tired, sweetheart," Red stated. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"No." Came the low reply.

He bit the inside of his cheek. "I'm sorry, Lizzie. I didn't mean to cause you any discomfort," he told her. "Why don't you get some sleep?" Red asked, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

She nodded slowly. "Will you sleep with me?" Liz turned crimson, when she realized her question. "I- I- I mean -"

He chuckled softly. "I know what you mean. Though I must say, I like the idea of both meanings," he said, licking his lips to moisten them.

She raised her eyes to his and loved what she saw. There was a fire in his bright green eyes that made her feel confident under his unwavering stare.

"Should we move this to the bed then?" The low rumble of his voice vibrated through her and warmed her insides. She nodded silently, her eyes never leaving his, too transfixed to do anything else. He leaned in closer. "You will need to let go then, unless you want me to carry you to bed," he whispered with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

That was when Liz realized that she still had a death grip on his clothes. She blushed again and let go of him.

Red smiled and placed a kiss against her forehead. "I would have loved to carry you, just so you know," he told her as they made their way towards the side of the bed, with his arm around her waist.

"You can do that the next time you take me to bed."

He growled at her and spun her around to attack her lips with his. "I will take you up on that," he breathed out.

She caressed his cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'll hold you to it," she answered, then began peeling off the gray cardigan, leaving her in a white tank top. His breath quickened as he watched her every move. "Are you going to sleep in that?" She asked.

"Huh?" Came his bewildered reply.

Liz smiled at him, but didn't repeat her question as she slowly unbuttoned his vest before loosening his tie and slipping it from his collar, then dropping it behind her on the mattress. "Take your jacket off." He did as he was told and dropped the suit jacket and vest on top of the tie. Liz took one of his hands in his and started on his cuff-links. "You wear way too many clothes," she complained softly, though she loved seeing him all dressed up. When she had dropped both cuff-links on the nightstand, she placed her fingers at the top-button of his crisp white dress-shirt. He still hadn't moved or said anything. "Is this okay?"

Red's eyes had turned almost black. "You never have to ask," he replied.

Liz bit her bottom lip to keep a moan from leaving her throat, not knowing what the sight did to the man, as she slowly undressed button by button. She pulled the end of his dress-shirt out of his waistband and took care of the last buttons before slipping the cloth from his broad shoulders; making sure her fingers skimmed down his bare arms. When she moved her fingers to the button of his trousers, she felt his hand closing around her wrists, making her look up at him questioningly.

"Maybe you should let me do that," Red rasped out.

"Don't trust me with that?" She asked, smiling.

"I don't trust myself," he replied, swallowing hard.

She kissed his cheek softly and let go of his pants. "I'll get ready in the bathroom. If you need anything, there are still some men's clothes left," she said, making her to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

Red quickly shed his trousers, shoes, and socks; folding everything and putting it neatly on a chair. He would never touch Tom's leftover clothes, and so he ended up standing next to the bed contemplating which side he should take. He made up his mind quickly, deciding to take the side by the door just in case anyone tried anything funny. You could never be too careful. A couple of minutes later, Liz came out of the bathroom and smiled at how at home he looked at that moment. She pulled the curtains closed and slipped beneath the covers, then snuggled up to him before she lost the nerve to do so. Red had wound his left arm around her, pulling her even closer so she could rest her head on his chest as he dropped a kiss to her hair. "I didn't mean to put you off, Lizzie. I just -"

"I know," she interrupted, and then turned her head to look at his eyes. "I know, Raymond."

His breath caught in his throat at the use of his given name, then he leaned in to capture her lips with his. "Sleep now, sweetheart," he told her softly before dropping his voice even lower. "I love you, Elizabeth."