Based on a prompt in the Lizzington FB group.

In 2x11, when they are to Uzbekistan, will they be going back to States immediately or will they stay in a hotel or a safe house and if they stay, what may happen between them if they can find a moment to breathe with Ressler's presence.

The title means literally "Like a fish in water" as I didn't know if the locution existed in English I chose to keep the French title :)

Disclaimer: not mine, no money, blablabla, don't sue me

Comme un poisson dans l'eau

Another blacklister, another country. Liz felt tired. After the Luther Braxton ordeal they had given her two weeks off. Two weeks spent with Red. He had refused to let her out of his sight for more than five minutes after almost losing her twice in such a short time. He had been afraid to lose her and it had shown.

She had spent those two weeks navigating between safe-houses with him and Dembe. They had talked. Many times. There had been more fish stories. How on earth could he find so many stories about fishes she couldn't begin to fathom but she had learned to read between the lines.

He had been in the middle of one of those stories when she had kissed him silent. Just for the look in his eyes it had been worth it. But when his eyes had turned black with desire, everything had changed.

Two weeks later they found themselves – and Ressler – in Uzbekistan chasing after another name of Red's list. Ressler had been as nosy as he always was. Following them around, asking stupid questions, slipping on banana peels, hiding in bushes. Liz was tired of him. She had felt his breath on her neck too many times during the mission. She was sick of it.

Red had stayed distant, and she was tired to play the wanted criminal and the FBI agent. She wanted some time alone with Red, some time when she wouldn't have to school her features and actions every time she was interacting with him. She wanted to take him in her arms and kiss him breathless. She wanted to feel his weight on her, his breath grazing her skin, his tongue tasting her most intimate places. She wanted him. But they weren't alone.

They had chosen to spend the night in one of Red's safe-house before heading back to the US the next morning. Sometimes, she wondered how many of those houses were waiting for him all around the world, but not tonight. Tonight all she wondered was if Red would join her.

The three bedrooms house was well appointed – like every house Red chose to stay in – and she had taken a shower as soon as Red had shown her the bathroom. She had felt filthy after a day running around. Her back was to the door when she heard a floorboard creak and the significant "click" of the deadbolt.

She tuned slowly her head and smiled. Red was leaning against the door, his gray waistcoat hanging open from his shoulders, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to the elbow, his feet bare and arms crossed. He was smiling smugly. She smiled back and let the bathrobe she was wearing slip from her shoulders and walked to him clad in nothing but her black underwear.

She let her hands slid up his chest, feeling the rapid drum of his heart and closed her arms around his neck, puling him down to kiss his lips. She had missed him so much.

"We'll have to keep it quiet, Ressler's next door," she whispered, finally settling in his arms.

"You're the noisy one here, sweetheart," he said in a low tone. He knew what his voice did to her.

"No wonder with that skillful tongue of yours," she breathed against his neck, her fingers playing with his belt buckle.

He ran his hands down her spine and stopped them on her hips, molding her curves to his. She could feel his already half-hard cock against her belly. Her hands left his belt to push back his waistcoat and start to work on the tinny buttons of his shirt. She helped him take it off and ran her hands up his torso, her fingers playing with the salt and pepper hairs she found on his chest. He was gorgeous.

He tensed when her hands stopped on his shoulder, her fingers grazing the raged skin of his back. He had been skittish about the scars on his back when she had asked to see them.

"You're not a monster," she breathed, her eyes never leaving his.

She had called him a monster many times in the past, but those scars were the proofs that even if he had done horrible things in his life, he wasn't a monster. He smiled sadly and put his hand on her cheek, his thumb caressing the corner of her mouth.

"Raymond. Listen to me. You are NOT a monster," she repeated. They had had this discussion many times during those two weeks and he still had a hard time believing her.

She kissed his thumb and nipped lightly at it. She knew how to take his mind off his past – their past – for at least a while. She wouldn't have guessed that the Concierge of Crime was such a melancholic man. She took his hands in hers and backward, led him to the bed. She needed him. He needed her.

He smiled when she opened his slacks and let them slip along his legs and pool at his feet. He stepped out of them and arched an eyebrow; waiting for her to choose the moment she would discard him of the last layer of cloth covering him. She run a finger along his length through his boxer shorts and smiled wickedly at the hiss he tried to muffle between clenched teeth.

Taking pity in him, she hooked her fingers on the waistband of his underwear and mindful of his fully erect cock, slid it down his legs, kissing his shoulder, his stomach, his hip, his knee on her way down. She loved to surprise him and by the look in his eyes she had accomplished her goal. She looked at him from her kneeling position between him and the bed and smiled at his awestruck expression.

She felt the muscles of his thigh tense under her lips when she kissed her way up his leg, nipping lightly at his hipbone before diving for the hot flesh throbbing before her eyes.

"You don't have to…" He grinded his teeth when her hot moisten mouth closed around the tip of him and sucked lightly. She was smiling. She was fucking smiling he could feel it. Her tongue flat on the underside of his cock was burning hell, sending jolt of electricity up his spine and it was all he could do not to buck into her mouth.

"Fuck Lizzie," he moaned when she cradled his balls into her hand.

She hummed something sounding weirdly like "Ressler" around him and he bit on his fist trying to muffle the unholy noises bursting out his throat every time she bobbed her head. She could feel he was close. Closing her hand at the base of his cock, she squeezed, hollowing her cheek and taking him deeper into her mouth. She felt his hand in her hair trying to stop her but she kept going, her tongue tracing patterns on the head, teasing him. She could have pinpointed the moment he let go, his hands fisting in her hair; she felt his body tense, the first drops of cum hitting the roof of her mouth. She kept sucking his cock, milking him until he was spent.

She let him slip from her lips, a satisfied smile on her lips; she whipped a stay drop of seed from her chin and looked at the white pearl on her fingertip before cleaning it with her tongue. It seemed to be the last straw for Red; he sat down heavily on the carpet-covered floor, his legs unable to keep him up any longer.

"You gonna pay this, you know," he breathed when she went to lie down in his arms.

"Hmm hmm," she mumbled, her fingers buried in his chest hair, her head on his shoulder.

She felt his hand graze her back and soon felt his fingers work the clasp of her bra open. How could he do that one-handed she didn't know… But Raymond Reddington was known to be a resourceful man after all. He pushed her on her back, and took off the offending piece of clothing, throwing it across the room.

"So beautiful," he breathed taking in her soft curves.

Goosebumps spread all over her skin when she felt his breath on her breast, turning her nipple in a hard rock peak even before the hotness of his mouth closed around it. She sucked in a shivering breath when she felt the first stroke of his tongue on her. Skillful tongue indeed. He nipped lightly at her and she tried to muffle the moan leaving her throat with the back of her hand but wasn't fast enough and the sound reverberated in the silent room. She could feel Red's smile against her skin. She hoped Ressler did hear.

He went from a breast to the other for a few minutes, always tender and loving even when he nipped at her soft flesh. She knew he was leaving marks all over her. He loved to mark her. She raised her hips when he began to slide her underwear down her legs. She kicked them off and his fingers went to play with her nipples when his mouth left them to travel south. His tongue leaving a path of fire on her skin, he stopped at her hip and looked up to her.

His eyes were black of desire, no traces of the blue-green she loved so much. She put her hand on his head and scratched lightly at his scalp. She could feel him… purr against her thigh. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, his nose almost buried in the nest of dark curls at the apex of her thighs. Seeing him like this sent shivers all over her body and she opened her legs, hinting the place she needed him the most.

He smiled smugly and ran a finger through her damp curls.

"Red!" she whimpered, her hand on his head trying to guide him to her center.

He chuckled and, taking pity on her, settled between her now wide opened legs.

"You're dripping wet, my dear," he groaned, his cool breath on her hot skin driving her mad.

"Shut up and drop the teasing, you son of a bitch," she rasped.

"As you wish."

She soon felt his tongue diving between her folds, spreading her slickness up to her clit. He used his tongue as a painter would use a brush, dipping the tip of it in her and painting her with her own juices. But it wasn't enough. It never was enough with him. He loved to tease her, to stretch foreplay at its maximum. But she wasn't in the mood today and she let him know. She placed a leg on his shoulder and, with her hand still on his head; she pulled him.

"Always so impatient," he groaned from between her thighs.

"Fuck you."

Once again he laughed at her outburst but complied enthusiastically. His tongue went to circle her clit and he slid a finger in her.

"Red," she moaned.

His lips closed around her clit, he hummed and she felt the meager control on her body slip. Her hips bucking against his mouth she moaned loudly when he slid another finger in her and started pumping in rhythm with the strokes of his tongue.

"Keen?"

They froze. Both of them looking at the door, fear in their eyes. Ressler. They had been too loud and Ressler had heard them.

"Maybe if we don't answer he'll go back to his room," Liz whispered hopefully.

"Elizabeth!" Ressler called again behind the door.

"No such luck I fear," Red shook his head.

"Yeah Ress," Liz finally called out.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Perfect! Why?" She bumped her head on the floor at her stupid question.

"I heard weird noises from your room and I know that since Braxton you're a little edgy," he replied concern in his voice.

"No I'm good Don, you can go back to sleep. Thanks though."

"Eeerrr"

"What!?" she barked finally fed up by her partner.

"Reddington's not here. Do you know if he planed to leave?"

She looked down at the man between her legs and caressed his head tenderly. He smiled up at her and she saw something wicked shine in her eyes.

"Oh no no no," he whispered when a smug smile spread on his lips.

He didn't reply, his smile still in place, their eyes locked, he moved the fingers still in her. Liz felt her belly muscle tense and clenched her teeth to swallow the noise menacing to escape from her mouth.

"Keen?"

Fuck! Ressler.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know were Reddington is?" he asked again.

"No!" she replied breathlessly.

"You sure you're ok?"

"I'm sure Ressler, go back to bed!" she barked in a high pitch tone. Red had closed once again his mouth around her clit and it was all she could do not to whimper loudly.

"Right. Good night Keen."

"You son of a bitch," she breathed when they heard Ressler's door close.

He hummed and crooked his fingers still pumping in her and, suddenly, she saw stars. Her inner muscles clenching around his fingers, she closed her eyes and bit hard on her hand. He let her ride her orgasm on his fingers, her hips bucking against them until she laid limp on the floor. He withdrew his fingers and sat down beside her waiting for her eyes to focus on him before licking his fingers clean. She moaned at that.

"We don't have any condoms," she breathed sadly when she saw his once again fully erect cock jutting between his crossed legs.

"Doesn't matter," he replied.

She looked at him and took in a sharp breath when she saw his hand fist around his cock and start pumping. She looked at him mesmerized, his hand going up and down his length, his thumb stroking the tip of him with each movement. She watched him speed up, his chest heaving in rhythm with his hand. His left hand patted suddenly the floor beside him and his fingers closed on her discarded underwear. He let out a groan and tensed in front of her, his eyes closed, his mouth set when he spilled himself in her panties avoiding staining the carpet with his seed.

She couldn't believe what she just witnessed. She never would have thought he did something like that in front of her. She was chocked and strangely aroused at the same time. Raymond Reddington was a man full of surprises.

She sat up facing him, took the cloth in his hand and sent it to the corner of the room. She then took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips, licking slowly the few drops of cum staining it. He smiled, they were equally wicked, a perfect match.

Without a word, he used her grip on his hand to help her up and, together finally made it to the bed. Tomorrow they would be back in the US and they'd have to figure out how to balance their partnership and relationship at work.

Thank you for your time. Let me know what you think about it :)