Firstly, I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. I am just a huge fan.

This is a shifter fic, where Red can shift into a dog. A Siberian Husky, to be exact. I thought Reddington had traits very similar when he shows them to Lizzie; loyalty, protective... Yes, I know it sounds silly, but if you are interested in more, I'd love to know :-)

Her Protector

Liz slipped in her earbuds, pressing the play button on her IPod as she started jumping down the steps into an immediate light jog. This was what she enjoyed most of all in the mornings after waking up; Getting the chance to go for a run and enjoy the scenery at seven thirty in the morning.

Focusing on the lyrics of the music playing and ensuring she didn't strain her leg muscles too much, she ran towards her usual running spot in the park. Already, people were sitting on benches, reading or laying sprawled out on the green grass under shaded trees.

Breathing heavily from the exertion, she stopped a second to catch her breath, resting her hands on both her knees, her black tank top and grey track pants sticking to her skin like adhesive from the sweat. Plopping down on the ground, she rested her head between her knees while switching her music off.

It was then she heard a man cry out in a panic, "Raymond! This is not a good idea! You said to keep your distance, Raymond!"

She turned her head to look curiously, noticing a tall and fairly bulky dark-skinned man running towards her. A few meters in front of him, loping straight towards her, was a dog.

She stiffened in worry, unsure about whether the dog was a threat, but judging by how it was wagging its tail furiously as it ran towards her, she realized the dog was only happy to be let off its leash.

Immediately, the dog seemed to take an instant liking to her; It dropped down on both its front and hind-legs directly in front of her the instance it reached her, rolling over onto its back on the grass near her running trainers so that Liz had no choice but to scratch its belly.

She had always been an animal lover, particularly a dog lover. It was why her and her partner Tom had chosen to get a dog, Hudson. This dog seemed to be a bigger breed than Hudson was, but she found him adorable nevertheless.

She wasn't sure what type of dog it was, but she noticed it had the most gorgeous, piercing greenish-grey eyes she had ever seen on a dog. It's fur was short and a luxurious white with grey spots in places, silky smooth to her fingers touch, and if she had to guess on the spot, she would have thought it was a Siberian Husky or one of those other similar breeds of powerful dogs.

"Hello there," she cooed, immediately adopting the baby-talk she refrained for only animals or extremely young children. "What's your name? Aren't you a beautiful doggie?"

It had no collar but a dazzlingly bright red handkerchief around its neck, which Liz found especially cute. It rolled over, wiggling closer to her on the grass, resting its head in her lap as it nuzzled her knee.

As the man who was obviously the dogs owner reached them, the husky lifted its head, staring at the man who was breathing heavily. "Raymond," the man spoke softly in scolding. When the man met her gaze, Liz grinned at him. "I'm sorry," he apologized, shaking his head. He patted his knee loudly several times, trying to coax the dog away from her, but instead the dog sat up, remaining at Liz's side stubbornly. "I think he likes you," the man continued with a smile. "He doesn't usually like to run up to people unless he really likes them."

"Aw," she laughed. "Well, I think I like him, too." Liz felt her heart flutter as she looked at the dog. As if somehow understanding that they were talking about him, the dogs tail started wagging again as he shifted closer towards her with a whine.

"You shouldn't say that with him close by," the man said, pretending to whisper with a cautious look in the dog's direction. "It will go straight to his head." Liz laughed, watching the dog closely as it kept looking excitedly between his owner and her; his head tilted slightly to the side, ears forward, mouth open as he panted.

"Raymond?" Liz asked with a raised brow, noticing the dog's head whip into her direction. What an intelligent dog, Liz thought. He knows his name and everything. Half the time, with her and Tom's pet dog Hudson, it was a struggle to get him to understand what sit down meant. "So his name is Raymond?"

"Yes, that's right. He is Raymond."

"What an old-fashioned name you have there then, Raymond," she said in baby-talk again, scratching the dog behind the ears with her fingernails affectionately. "I love his red handkerchief."

"Yes, well, Raymond likes it also. It was an... inside joke." Liz wasn't quite sure what the man meant by that, but kept a smile in place with effort.

"How old is he?"

"Fifty five," the man answered with the tiniest bit of hesitation.

"In doggy years, you mean?"

"Sort of like that, yes. But not quite though." She watched as the man fixed a stern look onto the dog. "Come now, Raymond. It is time to go. You have an appointment, remember? We must leave if you want to get there in time."

Amazing Liz, the dog yipped at the man's words, as though he understood what he was saying completely. Raymond stood up off his hind-legs, coming closer to Liz, enough to smear his cold wet nose along her cheek which Liz made a high-pitched noise in shock at, squinting her eyes.

"God," she breathed with laughter, lifting up her hand to wipe her cheek dry. "His nose is freezing."

"You have a good day now," the dogs owner said, smiling at her amicably.

"Yes, you too, Mr...?" She trailed off meaningfully.

"Dembe," he answered. "It is Dembe."

"Then it was very nice meeting you, Dembe." She glanced down at the dog, putting on her baby voice again, "And your very adorable dog Raymond."

Dembe pressed a finger to his lips, shushing her then pointing down at the dog, who was looking back at her with his vibrant greyish-green eyes. It was almost like the man, Dembe, was saying, Ssh, he can understand you and human talk.

Without really knowing what she was doing, Liz lifted her hand, waving at the dog as it seemed to turn back to look at her with every three steps it made. What was she doing anyway? It wasn't like a dog can wave back.

She was flabbergasted and the oxygen was knocked straight out of her when the dog sat on its hind-legs, lifting up its front left paw to wave back at her with a loud whine that echoed through the park. Gee, what an extremely talented dog.

What did you think? I fear this may be too silly so I'm sorry if it is.