Milling about the room, Lizzie smiled as her fingers danced delightfully across the finely upholstered furniture. Each piece was adorned with a different fabric, the textures interfacing with the loops and swirls of her fingertips to create sensations unique to her alone. She reached for a throw strewn across the armchair. Raising it to her face she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Faint traces of cologne lingered, musky and masculine. Returning the finely-threaded blanket to its original resting place, Lizzie moved to the mantle, engrossed by the images framed by hardwoods and wrought iron.

The last time she had been in Reddington's apartment the circumstances were significantly different. An attempt had just been made on his life, one that proved near fatal. She shook her head as she silently cursed his would-be assassins. Losing him would, after all they had been through, be too much to bear.

Her eyes began to well with tears, her torturous reverie undermining her otherwise pleasant mood. She had looked forward to seeing Reddington all morning, though she was, admittedly, a bit perplexed about his request to meet at a location so fraught with heavy emotion.

Lost in thought she made her way to a chair seated beneath the picture window. Moments later Reddington arrived, entering through the back door that led to an alleyway. "Always one to be prepared for a quick getaway," she mused, a smile light upon her lips. "Some things never change."

Upon hearing the telltale click-and-clack of his footsteps Lizzie turned her head to greet him. Reddington paused in the doorway, looking dapper in his formal, albeit out of place, attire.

"Red, what on earth are you wearing?" she said with a grin as she stood and moved toward her beau, sliding her arms around his waist.

"Oh Lizzie, you act as though you've never seen me sport a tuxedo before. I'm rather fond of the ole gal," he said facetiously, his head cocked to the side.

"You know what I mean. What's the occasion? And why did you want to meet here? This place doesn't exactly conjure up the best memories…"

"We're celebrating," he replied coyly, his signature smirk emerging.

"Celebrating what?" Lizzie countered, pronouncing each syllable tentatively, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer.

"This apartment has been tainted with terrible, terrible memories of almost losing you, and I wanted to change that. Just months ago I barely had a pulse, clinging to life. Now, my heart couldn't beat any faster or stronger…"

Reddington reached for Lizzie's hand and placed it on his chest. The palpations drummed against her palm excitedly.

"Red, are you okay," her voice laden with panicked concern.

"I couldn't be better." Distancing himself from her slightly, he dropped to one knee.

"Lizzie, having you in my life has made me a better man. You have given me a second chance, given me hope, given me a reason to live…and love again. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you, to fulfill your every fantasy, your every wish. Words cannot nearly begin to express my adoration for you. I am in awe of your strength, your beauty, your compassion…and am struck by just how much you make the world a better place just because you are in it."

Lizzie began to feel lightheaded, overcome with excitement and anticipation about what was inevitably coming next.

"Elizabeth Scott Keen, will you marry me?" Red asked, his voice wavering uncharacteristically.

Lizzie gasped, tears springing from her eyes. The emotion of all that had come before flooded forth…the love and adoration for Reddington that had taken root, cultivated by seemingly innocuous exchanges while on the run; Reddington's admission that she was his North Star, his way home; the shattering truth that she nearly met his same fate while being pursued by Wendigo and his compatriots. And in that moment, in that quaint little apartment, a time capsule of sorts, time stood still…the momentous event now part of the space's history.

"Yes! A million times over, YES!" Lizzie finally exclaimed, still attempting to process all that had transpired.

Reddington stood and swept her into his arms, kissing his bride to be…their embrace only interrupted by the jingling of a cat's collar.

As the feline made his way to the couple Lizzie caught a glimpse of a sparkling bauble hanging from his neck. Carefully untying the ribbon Reddington removed the ring, an antique discovered during one of their excursions while on the run. He carefully slipped it on her finger, admiring the diamond and ruby gems against her fair skin.

"Now, about that celebration. Edward has the plane fueled and ready for take off in less than 30 minutes. I have a decadent evening planned in Paris, complete with dinner at L'Ambroisie in the place des Vosges and a stay in a wonderful little bed and breakfast on the outskirts of town."

Startled back to reality, Lizzie interjected, suddenly ashamed of her appearance. "But, I can't go looking like this! I mean, leggings and a cable knit hoodie are hardly appropriate attire…and besides…"

Before she could continue, Mr. Kaplan walked through the door carrying a garment bag. Encased within was a custom-made Bouchra Jarrar gown in scarlet and noir Louboutin pumps.

"My congratulations to you and Mr. Reddington, dearie. Welcome to the family. Now, go get changed…you don't want to keep him waiting."

Moments later Lizzie emerged donning her new attire, perfectly complemented by the ring dazzling on her finger.

Reddington's face lit up as he inhaled sharply.

"Wow! And I like your clutch," he said with a wink.

Lizzie blushed and smiled sweetly.

Reddington extended his crooked arm, inviting her to join him.

"Shall we?"

THE END