The green-eyed monster
"It would seem you have an admirer, Lizzie."
For the first time all evening, Liz glances over at Red from where he sits in the leather stool near her, his casual comment capturing her attention. She scrutinizes him in the dim lights doubtfully, wondering if he is bluffing. Although they are inside under a roof, he still wears his fedora as if daylight is streaming around them and it isn't actually in the middle of the night.
"Who? You?" She means it mostly as a joke. Kind of.
"As lovely as you look in that dress tonight, Lizzie, it wasn't myself I was referring to." His voice drops dramatically over the pulsating music surrounding them, so much so that she has to lean closer and strain her ears to hear him. "But that guy over there.. opposite us on the other side of the bar..."
Liz raises her eyes to find the man in question; There is too many people standing around mingling among each other, holding their long glasses of beer or chardonnay. No one in particular catches her attention. But then she thinks she spots him; A man in his early thirties or so, in a black suit, his dark hair shoulder-length and combed back, sleek behind his earlobes. He's staring directly at her, and, caught off guard by his confronting interest in her, she flushes and glances down at the glass of bubbling white wine Red brought her instead. She doesn't feel ready to get involved with a man so soon after Tom, so she deliberately changes subject.
"What do you have for me?" she asks Red, looking in his direction but not quite meeting his gaze. She can feel his eyes on her, assessing her reaction to a strangers obvious interest in her. "You forwarded this address to me so that we could meet. I'm assuming it wasn't just because you wanted to play matchmaker, right?" She meets Red's look with an inquiring one of her own.
"Alright, Lizzie. You caught me." Red sighs over the music as he plunges a hand into the breast pocket of his coat, holding an envelope out to her with a flourish. Her interest sparked, Liz accepts it and pushes her glass aside near her elbow, giving herself plenty of room to open the envelope and thoroughly have a look at what's inside.
"Next name on your list?" she guesses, prying the envelope open. Whatever contents are inside, it feels thick.
"Hardly. It's for your own personal use, Lizzie. You can photocopy them and plaster them on the walls vindictively for all to see if that's what you want. I certainly won't be stopping you, whichever decision you choose to take."
Liz glances at him curiously at his words. He isn't facing her direction. He is staring across the bar, not daring to make any form of contact, so no one made the connection that they were more than just two strangers meeting harmlessly for the first time this evening. Liz thinks Red looks unusually tense- his chin set tight, neck rigid- and she tries to follow his gaze. She can't be certain but it appears as if Red is having a stare-down with her supposed, not-so-secret admirer. The man with the shoulder-length hair, she discovers with some relief, isn't staring at just her anymore. His dark eyes dance nervously from Red to her again, as if confused over their relation. It's obvious Red is intimidating the poor guy.
"Hey, cut it out," Liz warns him, trying not to laugh. "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, but you're definitely scaring the poor guy. He doesn't know where to look. Your like a doberman and he's the chihuahua."
Red hums in satisfaction, ignoring her warning. "It's just as well. He's quivering."
"No wonder," Liz mutters sarcastically. "You were saying?"
Red leans closer to her stool, but his eyes remain glued to the man. "Yes, as I was saying, Lizzie, it's an update." Stunning her, Red chuckles abruptly, then turns his attention to her, his eyes falling on her lips. "I thought you would find it just as riveting as I did when the shots were sent to me." Suddenly he laughs again, shaking his head as he slaps the counter of the bar loudly with his palm, like he is hearing the punch-line to a joke she isn't privy to, and Liz can't stop herself from wondering about the state of his mental health.
Liz sees people glance curiously in their direction at his loud laughter, and she instantly wishes she could hide. Being out in public with Reddington was always full of surprises; She never knew what she was expecting, or what he would do next.
She turns to look at Dembe, who is sitting next to her, but the quiet man is minding his own business, draining ale out of a tall glass.
She arches her brows at him. Red still looks ridiculously on the verge of laughing even more.
"What is so damn funny?" she asks Red in sheer confusion. "I fail to see anything even remotely funny?"
"Laugh and smile, Lizzie." Throwing her in a loop, Red reaches up and runs his warm knuckles gently down her cheek, his voice soft and compelling. Liz winces at the sudden unexpected intimacy of his touch. "Laugh and smile as if I am saying something so terribly entertaining to you."
"Now why would I do that?" she retorts flatly. "What are you trying to do?"
"Just try to look as if you are someone glad to be here with me for once. It wouldn't kill you."
Liz stares him down incredulously, this time unfazed when Red brushes the tendrils of her fringe out of her eyes with his forefinger. His eyes burn into hers, searching deeply, imploring her to play along with whatever game he has in mind.
"You were the one that arranged this meeting, not me."
"Well, regardless of your tragic acting, it seems to have done the trick." Putting distance between them, Red leans back on his stool and reaches for his drink. With irritating, lazy smugness in his expression, Red toasts to her then looks straight across the bar, taking in a slow sip of his scotch on the rocks. He smacks his lips together, adding, "Well done, Lizzie."
"Well done, for what?" She didn't realize she had done anything praiseworthy in his books.
"That guy, your admirer... I believe he's long gone now. Thank God he understands the art of subtlety, otherwise he would be hanging around us all night."
Just as it all slowly occurred to Liz, her outrage gets lost on her when someone taps her on the shoulder gently, clearing their throat. Liz turns and is stunned to find the good-looking man from across the bar standing in front of her. So Reddington's behavior hadn't scared him away after all. What a relief. His smile falters slightly as he looks between Liz and Red as he hesitates.
"Er, hello," he says, his voice thick with a Russian accent. "I hope I'm not intruding, but I was wondering if you would care to have a dance with me? It would seem such a waste if you didn't dance at least once."
Astonished, Liz glances quickly at Red. His expression isn't encouraging; A hard mask of disapproval with something else in his shining eyes as he stares at her face. The muscles of his jaw tightens and twitches. But he knows not to have the audacity to comment and Liz watches his diaphragm move as he swallows audibly, waiting for her to make up her own mind.
She smiles up at the man. "You know, I've been waiting for someone to ask me that all night. So thank you. I love to dance."
She feels Red's hand on her back, as he leans his face closer to the side of hers. "Do you want to dance, Lizzie?" Red cuts in, but she ignores him.
Red isn't the man she wants to dance with tonight, especially not after what he just did. No, tonight she wants to experience dancing with another man, someone different.
When she takes the man's hand and let's him drag her to the dance floor, Red feels passed-over, exactly like the unseen envelope of photographs sitting neglected on the bar near her wineglass that he went to all the effort in retrieving for her while his men were at their posts keeping an eye on a very alive, yet poorly recovered Thomas Keen, after Liz had shot and taken care of him.
The green-eyed monster has reared itself, something he hasn't felt in years.
As Red watches her dancing and smiling with another man who completely thwarted his own attempts of making him back off from his girl and not approach her, the green-eyed monster inhabits his body, taking over and spreading through him like bitter poison. This is going to turn into one hell of a long night.