This is the beginning of my first full-length Blacklist episode. It might take me a little while to get it all going, but I promised one, and here we go. I don't own anything. I do know a bit about Australia, living here now (in our currently hellish summer) but I don't own a thing. Thanks to the Johns, and the amazing actors on the show, for giving me so much material. Feedback please!

* JSTB * JSTB * JSTB * JSTB *

"Did you bring me anything?"

Raymond Reddington threw his head back and laughed. Then he grew serious. "Yes. The next name on the Blacklist."

Elizabeth Keen tried to keep the lightheartedness going, just for a moment longer. It was rare that she felt so good in his presence. "Really?" she quipped. "Did you gift wrap it?"

For a brief second, she could swear she saw genuine delight in his eyes as he sat on her sofa. Then he announced, "I need to go. I suspect your husband will be back soon, and you have some talking to do."

Liz furrowed her brow in confusion. "But you said he was at the airport—"

"He's not going anywhere," Reddington interrupted, standing up. "He'll be back tonight. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know who you need to deal with next."

Liz stood up, too, for some reason not quite known to her wanting to keep him close by. "But—"

"Lizzie," the former FBI most-wanted said to her, "I've been waiting for this one for a long, long time. It won't hurt to ruminate on it for one more night." He came to face her. "Your husband is coming home," he said in a low voice. "You need to talk."

Liz's eyes rebelled against her and insisted on tearing up again. She opened her mouth to speak, not even sure what was going to come out of her mouth. She swallowed. "Red—"

But Reddington offered that small smile that told her he knew what she was thinking, even though she didn't. "I won't go away again, Lizzie." He reached out and put a reassuring hand on her arm. "I'll be somewhere nearby, and I'll call you tomorrow."

She tried to offer him a brave smile. His own smile got a little wider, and his eyes danced as they teased her. "We need to take a vacation," he declared brightly. "It's been so long since I've been anywhere new."

Her tears receded, and she took in and let out a calming breath as she realized that was exactly the intention of his change of subject. "So you're taking me on a trip?" she asked.

"We all need to get away sometimes," he said.

Finally, she forced herself to say out loud what had been bouncing around in her mind for weeks. "Red," she said, "you saved my life."

He lips curled up ever-so slightly, his eyes looking straight into hers. "Yes."

"At the post office, you traded your life for mine," she said. Even as the words spilled out, she berated herself for saying them. Did she think he didn't realize it?

Reddington nodded once, the smile disappeared. "Yes."

She wasn't ready to let go yet. She knew that she was changing the game, that she was looking at him with different eyes, hearing him with different ears. Her very sketchy, and clearly incorrect, original profile of Red, had transformed in the past three weeks that he'd been away. She had been so sure that she knew who he was, and what drove him, but she was sure now that she had been wrong, and she needed answers. She searched his face, but found none of them. "Why?" she asked finally, in a small voice.

Red stared back at her, his expression unchanging. After what seemed like hours but what she was certain was only a few seconds, he replied, "Because of your father." She felt the tears coming again but forced them away. "Your husband is coming home now, Lizzie. Talk to him. But be careful. I don't want my gallant gesture to be wasted."

Then without another word, he walked past her, and out the door.

* JSTB * JSTB * JSTB * JSTB *

Liz spent an hour being raked over the coals by FBI Director Harold Cooper in the morning. She'd gone in to work after a long and primarily sleepless night after Tom came home as Red had predicted, and they had talked, and argued, and then talked some more, until finally coming to an uneasy truce. At least Tom had admitted that trying to make her leave her job by moving to another state was a bad idea. And they'd settled in for the night… or what was left of it.

But then she'd come in to work and told Cooper that Red had made contact. And Cooper had flown off the handle because he hadn't been told immediately—and then informed her that he knew Red had called her while she was working on the Good Samaritan killer case, but that she had not followed orders by reporting it right away. She tried to explain that she had been preoccupied with catching the killer, and had then simply forgotten about reporting the source of her brainstorm about the injuries of the victims, but neither of them really believed that, and all that did was leave Lizzie wondering who had told him: Meera, or Ressler.

Then she countered with the final result of Reddington's visit to her place last night: he was back where he started, trusting no one at the FBI, and speaking only to her, on his own terms, in his own way. And no, she didn't know where he was right now, but he had the next name on the Blacklist, and if nothing else, they could always depend on him being right and stopping some horrific criminal, so it was in the FBI's best interest to let him continue this way, even though Cooper didn't like it.

Cooper agreed, and though he still threatened her with formal censure over her failure to follow orders, he didn't follow through. "Wait for Reddington's next contact," he told her. "And I expect you to tell me what he says."

Liz nodded, sighed in resignation, and went back to her desk, where she was still licking her wounds when her cell phone rang. She didn't recognize the number, but still had a tiny unexpected thrill of hope, and picked up. "Keen."

"Lizzie, get your passport. The next Blacklister is in Australia."

"Red?"

"It's summer down there, Lizzie. You'll need to pack accordingly. We'll buy you sunscreen and a big floppy hat when we get there."

"Red, what's going on? Who's in Australia?"

"Little Joe."

"As in…?"

"He was obviously was a big television western fan at some point. An American, but living Down Under now. He has a farm called the Ponderosa in Queensland."

"A farm?"

"Lizzie. Pull up all the unresolved missing child cases for the last twenty years. You're going to need to bring them with you."

"To Australia?"

"Dembe will meet you in three hours at your home. Be ready, Lizzie."

"Red, I'll have to—"

"Bring only the essentials. The stores in Australia will supply most of what we need. And they have some wonderful beaches there, where there's white sand that goes on for miles. The women go topless at some of them, so you won't even need to worry about fitting into a bikini."

"Don't even think about it."

"Be ready for Dembe in three hours."

He hung up. Lizzie pulled the phone away from her ear, looked at it as though it might tell give her the answers she was clearly not going to get from Reddington until they were already on their way, and sighed for the twelfth time that day. Then she headed back to Cooper's office to tell him where she was going to be… though she could only guess why.