I've written this little one shot in response to The Blacklist and the other great fanfiction I've read.
The Dance
Agent Keen enters the restaurant with Raymond Reddington's hand gently guiding her. She hates how often he touches her without thought, without permission. They are there to meet a contact, but as usual the details are scant. That's another thing that angers her.
She's never been to this type of restaurant before but Red seems at home as they make their way to the table. The lighting is gentle and the surroundings plush. The whole set up is lulling her into a comfortable oblivion when she knows she must be on her guard.
When the waiter comes to take their order she listens are Red orders their food in French. She's hardly surprised but tries to appear ambivalent towards him and his charms. He's ordered food and wine for both of them and again she's angered at how presumptive he is, although she's almost certain she'll enjoy what he has picked. His knowledge of her is unnerving.
They are posing as a couple and he's making the most of it. He's not exactly flirting but the delicate but fleeting touches he places on her would leave no one in any doubt. She wonders what Ressler and the rest of the surveillance team are making of it. The very thought makes her uncomfortable and she shifts in her chair.
'Something wrong Lizzie' Red asks, his penetrating gaze settling on her.
'How long will this take?' she asks, avoiding his question.
'We're in no rush' he responds as the waiter appears with champagne.
She quickly lifts her glass, hoping the delicate bubbles will take the edge off her nerves and her unease with the man in her company. She hates that she's usually on the back foot when he's all ease, all charm. But before she can get there he raises his and proposes a toast to his breath taking companion. She can't help the blush that spreads across her face. She tries not to sound disbelieving or adolescent when she thanks him.
When she's poured a second glass she wonders if it's unprofessional to continue to consume at this rate but she finally feels ready to act the part to Red's flirtatious dinner companion. He leans in again and without thought she leans towards him too. Briefly a hint of surprise passes across his face before he breathes, 'Well done Lizzy, you're finally playing the part.'
The meal arrives and although she's loathed to admit it, he's made the perfect choice. The food is decedent and teamed with the wine she think she could get used to this. But then reality bites and she glances at the man beside her. The criminal, the enemy. Admittedly, since he saved her from the Stewmaker she's struggled a little more with her feelings towards him but he is what he is.
Leaning in again, his lips move close to her ear. She can feel his hot breath and smell the masculine scent that is unmistakable him. 'My contact is here, we are being observed, make it believable Lizzy' he breathes before gently kissing her on the neck. Momentarily the breath leaves her lungs; suddenly there is no sound, no movement, just the sensation that just occurred and the isolation that has resulted in its absence. Later when she thinks of it, this very second will prove to be the pivotal moment but for now she is consumed by the sensation.
Slowly she regains her senses and she's aware of Red chatting, covering her moment of absence. She lifts her glass and tries to smile at his words, reassure him and herself and their mysterious witness that all is well.
'Shall we dance?' he asks expectantly when their meal is over and the table cleared. Briefly she hesitates in her response, taken a back and considering an appropriate way to decline his offer but the moment is all he needs to stand and offer her his hand. Then she has no option but to accept.
He holds her hand but his intimate stance means she brushes up against him as they make their way to the small dance floor. He has picked the perfect moment to arrive, one song finishing, the other begins. How is he so casually able to orchestrate these moments? She's aware that she is slightly inebriated but all the same she can't deny the seductive effect of this whole scenario.
As the first few bars of 'All the Way' begin he slips one arm casually around her waist and lets his warm palm settle against her back. Delicately he takes her other hand and as the music pauses to let the lyrics begin he starts to move their bodies.
'When somebody loves you...'
She's using her hand on his arm to provide a frame that leaves a small distance between their bodies. Trying to maintain some vestiges of professionalism.
"Deeper that the deep blue sea ..."
She doesn't quite know how but as the song continues the distance between them reduces and she closes her eyes and lets him take over. She can hear him hum along with the music; the vibrations penetrate her body and begin to pool in the pit of her stomach. When the music builds she's aware of how intimate a scene they are portraying but she doesn't care.
The last few bars rise and fade and they are still in each others' arms. There is a polite smattering of applause from the other diners who have stopped to watch this intimate scene and Elizabeth blushes and drops her head.
Reddington slides his hand from the small of her back and lifts her chin so she is staring into his eyes, 'don't be embarrassed Lizzy' he whispers before leaning in to softly kiss her on the lips. She responds to this kiss allowing it to deepen and intensify beyond his initial intentions before pulling away. Elizabeth Keen tells herself that she's playing the part and convincing any onlookers of their relationship but really her actions are motivated by the desire she feels for him.
How did she move from reluctant participant to woman filled with desire in a few short hours? If she were honest she'd admit that this has been building long before tonight, but despite how bold the alcohol has made her, she's not fully ready to acknowledge this.
Reddington holds her close as they make their way back to the table. He settles the bill and before she knows it they are out of the restaurant and in his car. Dembe pulls into traffic and heads the car towards Reddington's latest abode as Elizabeth begins to come to her senses. 'Stop the car' she demands, wanting to get out and put some distance between them.
'Home Denbe' Reddington responds, dismissing her demand.
She's indignant at being so easily overruled and wants to protest further but he moves one hand behind her back and the other over her legs and before she knows it he is encompassing her. 'Now Lizzy, we don't want to spoil so perfect an evening, do we?' She thinks about her life for a moment, married to someone who may be a stranger. Suddenly thrust into this unfamiliar and disconcerting environment. She decides to trust him. Decides to let him lead. She needs a night of abandon after these months of uncertainty.
The car pulls up and Red exits, opening her door, his offered hand and easing her from the vehicle. 'Thank you' she exhales close to his skin. She thinks his hand flexes in hers but she can't be sure. Maybe she's not having the effect on him that he is having on her. Suddenly she's uncertain, uneasy in his presence, in this dress.
As they enter the hotel, enter the elevator, she tries to pull away but he pulls her closer. They lock eyes and he seems to seek permission before meeting her lips. His are hot, soft and insistent and the spell is only broken when the elevator dings announcing their arrival. Again she's happy to follow; be dominated by this mysterious and potentially dangerous man.
Elizabeth Keen is aware that she needs answers, needs clarity and honesty in her life. But tonight as Raymond Reddington leads her into his bedroom she just feels the need for intimacy. She meets every desire of his with an equal fervour, responds to his touch with equally pleasure. She's no longer playing a part, for the moment she's allowing what she wants to dictate how she acts. And she is rewarded in his touch, in his caress, in his yearning.