Many thanks to Maura for the prompt, via my request on the Lizzington Shipppers page! I was listening to "Natural Disaster" by Pentatonix on repeat for hours and hours while writing this. I promise there will be more! I do not own the characters or anything Blacklist-related; I just like to take them out to play :) Thank you for reading and please review!
Chapter 1:
It was the worst luck they'd had yet.
A freak blizzard had stranded them in their latest safehouse and they had missed their scheduled flight out of the country. Red had been in contact with Dembe to let him know that they would not be able to make it to the airstrip where his private jet was on standby, waiting to spirit them away overseas. The delay would undoubtedly cost them some measure of inconvenience: Red had hoped to be reunited with Dembe by now, Lizzie's nerves were fraying at the edges, and to top it all off, it was Christmas Eve. He had planned this night much differently for her. He wanted to celebrate this Christmas with her on some remote tropical island, preferably one without a U.S. extradition treaty, and to show her exactly how well he could protect her. Somewhere in the tropics was a fully furnished hideaway bedecked in Christmas finery; a decorated tree had been prepared, eggnog would be chilling in the kitchen, even a stocking hung with her name. He had wanted to preserve some semblance of normalcy for her during her first (and what he hoped would be her last) holiday on the run. Unfortunately, Mother Nature had other plans.
Red had chosen their current location and so, of course, there was nothing they lacked. The cabin was luxuriously appointed, with dark wood paneling in every room, opulent furniture in rich tones and fabrics, and a fully-stocked pantry that would enable Red to cook several weeks worth of sumptuous meals. They would be able to ride out the storm in relative comfort, but the extravagance of their surroundings did nothing to calm Lizzie's anxiety.
Lizzie was restless, nervous tension vibrating off her tense body like she was a tightly-strung bow. She paced the living room in burgundy tights and an oversized, cream sweater, her thick socks padding softly across the floor as she marched back and forth, continuously checking the storm's progress from the large bay window on the other side of the room from where Red lounged easily in a black vest and crisp, white shirt on the sofa, reading a well-worn copy of War and Peace. She was huffing exasperatedly, muttering softly about the wisdom of trusting a known felon with her safety when his judgement obviously wasn't very reliable if he dragged her to Vermont in the middle of winter as part of their escape plan. Eventually, her mumblings and twitching, erratic path could no longer be ignored.
"Why don't you come sit and let me read to you for awhile?" he asked, his offer a means of diversion.
"How can you just sit there?" she exclaimed, wheeling on him. "When the FBI could be out there, combing the woods for us right now? At any moment they could be breaking down our door!" she gestured about her wildly. "It's freezing out there, we're stuck here, and it's Christmas!" she finished bitterly. Red felt a pang of regret at her words. Of course, she would rather be anywhere else than trapped here with him.
"Lizzie, no one is coming for us, no one even knows we're here," he replied patiently, lowering the book into his lap. "That was part of the social media diversion, remember? All our tracks lead to California."
"I'm sorry," she deflated next to him on the sofa, crumpling from the exhaustion of her tension running so high, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, resting her head in her hands. "I don't know what to do with myself. We should be running and instead we're stuck here. I feel like there is something I should be doing. How are you so calm?"
"Years and years of practice," Red replied conspiratorily. "I can't tell you how many times I've been trapped in hiding places by various circumstances, with nothing to do but wait. Usually, though, I was alone. I must admit, it's delightful to have such a pleasurable companion for a change."
"I don't think I've been very good company," Lizzie admitted, apologetically. "My mind won't stop racing and I just don't know what to think about. I need a distraction." She thought for a moment. "Tell me a story?"
Red paused a moment, startled by her request, a small, surprised smile on his lips. She normally seemed so annoyed by his stories. Perhaps she was just desperate for something to keep her mind busy? Whatever the reason, he would appease her. There was, after all, nothing he could deny her if it was in his power to give.
"Well," he began slowly, his tongue working around his mouth as he fought to come up with something that would divert her attention from their current situation and also put her mind at ease. "There was one time in particular that comes to mind…."