Author's Note: This is for criminalkeen who had the idea for this prompt. It turned out to be slightly different but I hope you'll like it. Thank you so much to my dear friend jackandsamforever who beta'd this fic. *hugs* I'm not sure whether I'll continue it or not. Let me know if you want to read more or not. :D

Concierge of Love

Chapter 1

Red wasn't really Red when he was sloshed. It only happened occasionally, but when it did, then he did it properly.

And there was Dembe, sitting only a foot away from Red who sat in the darkest corner of his favorite club; the cigar he smoked hours ago already turned into ashes.

Suddenly Red leaned over to him, so close Dembe could smell the alcohol.

"You know what, Dembe?" Red slurred. "You know..."

Dembe waited, trying to figure out what Red was mumbling.

"You know...," Red tried again, rubbing his hand over his head. "I...I love her!"

Dembe looked up in surprise, but he didn't need to ask who Red meant by 'her'. Everyone who was close to Red knew what feelings he had for Liz.

But still he never expected to hear Red confessing his love for her to him. This was awkward.

"Raymond. As much as I appreciate your trust, I think you should be telling Agent Keen, not me," Dembe said, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving him an encouraging slap.

Red groaned, shaking his head. "Stooooop it! My head is pounding. And... I can't, Dembeeee... She won't believe me. Shhhhee won't even listen to me. I can't tell her."

Dembe sighed. What am I supposed to do with that? Where's Mr. Kaplan when you need her?

"Say something, Dembeeee! You need... you need to... to ssssay something convincing like 'Noooo, Red, you're wrong. Noooo, Red, she loves you back.' Something like that," Red kept on babbling. He tried to reach for his tumblr of scotch but accidentally pushed it off the table where it smashed on the floor. "Oopsie...," was all Red said.

And this is number 4 of the most wanted fugitives in the world, ladies and gentlemen, Dembe thought, trying hard not laugh at what was left of the normally so controlled Red Reddington.

He patted Red's shoulder one more time. "No, Red, you're wrong. She will love you back," he said patronizingly.

Red snorted. "Haha... aren't you a barrel of laughs. Thissss isn't helping!"

Instead of responding to Red, Dembe only replied, "I will get you a glass of water, and after that it's time for you to go home. This will be embarrassing enough for you when you wake up tomorrow my friend."

"Blah... blah... blah...You've suddenly turned into a blabbermouth. Maybe I should..."

But Dembe wasn't listening anymore, and was already halfway to the bar to get Red some water when his phone rang.

He checked the display. What a great timing. He pressed the button. "Yes, Agent Keen."

"I told you that you can call me Liz, Dembe," Liz sounded tired. "Where is he, Dembe?"

Dembe sighed. "This isn't a good time, Liz. He's busy at the moment."

Liz huffed. "When is he not busy? Get him on the phone, please."

"I can't. He is...," Dembe paused and looked over at Red, dismayed to see that he was making origami cranes, balancing one on the top of his head. Embarrassed he turned away. "He is drunk."

There was a moment of silence.

"W..what?" He heard Liz's surprised reply.

"Drunk. He's completely gone," Dembe said again,

"Okay, where are you?" Liz asked. Dembe heard the sound of a car door closing.

"I don't think it's a good idea to come here, Liz." Dembe tried to convince her one last time.

"Dembe... something's wrong, and I want to speak with him. He doesn't get drunk just for kicks. So just send me the address, and I'll be there as fast as I can." With that she hung up on him.

If you want to, but don't accuse me of not having warned you later. He sent Liz the address and returned with the glass of water to Red.

"Oh, vodka... thank you, Dembe." Red took the glass and grimaced when he realized it was only water.

R-L

Fifteen minutes later Liz entered the club and looked around with searching eyes. When she spotted Red and Dembe, she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

The table was covered with origami birds, and Red was the middle of folding another one.

Liz pressed a hand over her mouth, trying to hold back laugh that was threatening to slip out. She hadn't seen anything so funny in a long time.

Red looked up and caught sight of her. "Lizzie! Whaaaaat... what are you doing here, sweetheart? Come here!" He waved frantically at her.

"Red, what are you doing here?" Liz asked, rolling her eyes as she walked over to his table.

"Folding cranes and birds," Red answered, smiling at her drunkenly.

"I can see that, but why are you drunk? I know you like to have a drink sometimes, but you're sloshed, Red." Liz sat down next to him; he smelled strongly of alcohol.

Red laughed. "Oh, I'm completely sober, Lizzie."

"Of course you are, Red, but we need to get you home before the owner kicks you out. You don'twant to get banned, I know how much you love coming here."

"Oh yes... we don't want that, righty?" Red said, trying to get up with Liz's and Dembe's help. "But... but... Lizzie?"

"What, Red?" Liz watched him curiously while Dembe held his breath.

"Would you mind bringing the origami thingies with you? It took some effort to make them..."

Dembe sighed, pressing his fingers over his eyes. Red... you dumb... A giggle interrupted his ruminating.

"Of course, Red. I'll bring your precious origami thingies," Liz said, pressing her lips together. But her eyes were glowing with something, and Dembe understood.

She loves him. He can be drunk, he can be absolutely ridiculous. He's constantly getting on her nerves – no matter if he's drunk or not. But she loves him. He smiled. Good thing. Because who am I? The concierge of love? They can deal with their feelings alone.

His thoughts were interrupted again by Liz asking if he could help her carry Red to the car.

"Let's make sure he hits the seat face down, Dembe. Do I have to worry about the precious leather in your car? Should we open the window, just in case?"

Dembe laughed. "I guess so."

"He is here," came the slightly slurred reply from Red.

"Stop mumbling, Red. You're barely yourself. So just shut up and let us take you home," Liz said, opening the car door.

Red slid into the backseat and Liz sat right next to him. She opened the window and pushed Red closer to it. Dembe started the car and thought about the closest safe house.

When they arrived (luckily Red hadn't needed to make use of the window), Dembe helped Liz carry Red to his bedroom.

"Okay, Dembe, you can call it a day now. I'll take it from here. Thank you for being a good friend to him, Dembe." Liz said, sounding a bit exhausted, but amused as well. "Night," she said softly as he walked out the door.

"Goodnight to you as well, Liz."

And good luck with him, he thought, closing the door behind him with a smile.