AN: Oh my goodness I suck, I know! I keep throwing new fics at y'all and never update them - sorrynotsorry. I hope you'll like this one, I have no idea where it's headed, but I'll guess we'll see. Special thanks to Jammequin for proofreading once again.

Chapter 1

Red stood in front of the closed door, taking a moment to rub his weary eyes. He was pretty exhausted, but he wanted to see her, he needed to see her. He knew it was the only way he would get any rest that night. He raised a hand and knocked. The door opened only seconds later, not by the person he wanted to see though.

"So it worked?", the thorn in his side asked.

"Yes," he replied curtly.

"I'll take that as a 'thank you'."

Red side-stepped him and paid little attention to the other man leaving the makeshift apartment. His eyes were trained on the figure standing at the crib, it was so good to see her again; he could already feel his wounded body heal. Then he noticed his fedora on her kitchen island, his heart filling with love at the sight. She turned and he watched her eyes widen in surprise.

"Oh, my God. How did you…" Liz hurried towards him and after just looking at him for a moment, she hugged him tightly to her. His own arms closed around her as he breathed in her sweet scent.

After everything that had happened with her faked death, the kidnapping of her daughter and then her own kidnapping, it was so good to hold her again, to feel her warm and pliant against him.

After a while she pulled back, much to his dismay. "Kirk?"

"Gone."

"Dead?" She asked.

"Gone," replied.

"I don't... I don't understand. How did you…"

"It's over," he interrupted gently. "May I?" He nodded towards the crib, bouncing a little to get a better look at the baby inside, before looking back at her.

He was adorable, she noted, his enthusiasm for the little girl made her heart beat just a little faster. With a smile she went to pick up the baby and then walked back to where he was standing, the fedora back on her kitchen counter. Red was close to vibrating with excitement now and it was almost too much. Ever so gently she placed the infant in his waiting arms, watching how he handled Agnes with the utmost care but also with the finesse a father had.

"Mm. Come here. Come here. Yes." He cuddled the baby close and sighed contently. "Here you go," he said softly and Agnes started cooing, making them both laugh.

"You know, I really believed he was my father," she said after a while.

"You had every reason to."

"Except for one." He could feel her looking at him. "You. You told me my father died when I was a little girl. I just... I guess I didn't want to believe it. I really wanted my dad here to see her grow up."

His heart hurt for her, for the things she would never have. "He would've wanted that, too," he replied in a low voice, cuddling the now asleep baby just a little closer.

"I think she's really taken to you. Usually she doesn't just fall asleep like that." The smile these words brought him was genuine and bright and she wondered when she had last done something to make him smile like that. "You look tired," she spoke in a low voice so as not to wake the baby.

The dark circles under his eyes spoke volumes and the color of his skin seemed anything but healthy, he knew that as well. "Yes," he replied and held the baby just a little closer. "I should go."

"You should stay," she spoke quickly this time and his eyes rose to meet hers. "Look, you're exhausted and there's a perfectly fine couch two feet away from you. You can lie down for a bit and rest."

He seemed hesitant to agree, unsure if her question was genuine or out of guilt.

"I'm sure Agnes would like that also."

He huffed a laugh at the cheap shot, knowing full well that she knew it would hit home. "Alright. If you're sure."

"I'm sure." She squeezed his arm and then reached out. "Here, let me put her back in her crib."

"What about Tom?" He asked, stalling for a few more minutes with the child in his arms.

"I'm sure he won't be back for a while."

Bending his head, Red placed a soft kiss on the infant's forehead and took a moment to inhale her sweet baby scent, before reluctantly handing the child over. Deeply concentrated on the little girl, he had missed Liz's eyes watering slightly at the picture in her makeshift living room.

She gently lowered her child back in her bed and then turned to find Red still standing where she had left him, now looking a little out of place. Making her way towards him, she helped him out of his coat and somewhat carelessly threw it on the kitchen counter, ignoring his dramatic facial expression at how badly she treated his possessions.

Red startled when nimble fingers suddenly started working on loosening his belt and he quickly covered them with his. "What are you doing?" He asked slightly out of breath.

Not resisting an eye roll, she pushed his hands away and opened the buckle. "I don't recall sleeping with a belt being very relaxing. Take off your jacket and button-down while you're at it." He stared at her as if she had grown another head. "Do you need help?"

"I'm perfectly fine doing it on my own," he finally replied and shrugged out of his jacket, before folding it neatly in half and placing it over a chair.

"Shirt next," she said, rolling up his belt.

He would not let that happen. "I'll pass this time. It's a little cold."

"I'll get you a blanket, hold on."

If she was testing his restraints, she was close to making him snap. He quickly kicked off his shoes and lowered himself onto the couch, leaning his head back onto the cushion.

"Hey," she said softly, touching his shoulder. "Lie down, you'll be more comfortable." Liz helped easing him into a lying position, forgetting about telling him to take off his shirt as she covered him with the blanket. "Okay?"

"Perfect," Red said with a smile, before managing to open his eyes again. "Thank you, Lizzie."

Her hand stroked over his chest and only moments later he was fast asleep.

She wished he had taken off his shirt upon noticing the drops of blood on the collar. Again he had traded himself for her and ended up getting hurt. He really needed to stop that. Lowering herself on the floor, Liz leaned her back against the couch and took his hand in hers. Looking at it for long moments, she realized how beautiful his hands really were, with specks of blond hair on the back and perfectly manicured fingernails. They were strong, strong enough to strangle someone to death, but they were also soft, cradling her newborn baby or her own face while he wiped tears away from her cheeks. She raised his hand to her lips and placed a soft kiss to the injection wound between his knuckles, hoping to be able to take the pain away.

The man had suffered so much, she just wanted him to have some kind of relief from the pain. She turned the hand over and kissed his palm next, before pulling his arm more snugly around herself, resting his lax hand against her chest. She didn't know whether it would give him some peace while asleep, but she knew that she would sleep better by his side.

At first she hadn't realized, but during the hug it had come to her, that it had been the first time they had touched, ever since he had thought she had 'died'. He hadn't initiated any contact upon her resurrection, which had worried her at first, but the way he had leaned into her now that they were alone ended any doubts she might have had. She leaned her head back to rest in the crook of his arm, knowing that her neck would not thank her for it later, and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to reach her.