As always, these characters belong to NBC...I just like to borrow them on occasion.
Glancing over her shoulder, Lizzie held her breath as she scanned the crowd for any sign of disruption. Hundreds of D.C. residents, with a smattering of tourists sporting their telltale garb, milled about the outdoor mall, seemingly oblivious to her presence. Now sitting near the summit of the bureau's Most Wanted List, Lizzie's training as an FBI agent had been serving her well. She could spot a tail some distance away, and was adept at identifying and assessing suspicious behavior in seconds. Satisfied that her surroundings were secure, Lizzie took a seat at an outdoor café, taking cover beneath a large, loudly colored parasol. She sipped a glass of water, trying not to tap her fingers nervously against the glass.
"God, where is he?" she muttered under her breath. Red had been gone for nearly 45 minutes, collaborating with an associate in preparation for their departure from the nation's capital. Lizzie began to reach for the burner phone nestled in her pocket when he approached the table. She had grown so accustomed to his three-piece suits and dashing fedoras she almost didn't recognize the man standing in front of her. The cut of his jeans drew her gaze to his member, the bulge prominent beneath the denim. The sleeves of his button down shirt were rolled, the muscles in his forearms flexing with each movement. His coiled chest hair, bleached by age, emerged from the top, set free by the loosed buttons at his collar. Last, but certainly not least, his signature headpiece replaced by a rather banal ball cap. Lizzie tried to pass off her arousal for an expression of nervous energy given their predicament.
"Where have you been," she said, with only a thinly veiled attempt at hiding her exasperation. "I've been waiting for nearly an hour, and I can only nurse this glass of water for so long before they decide to boot me from the table."
Reddington smirked at her choice of words, his eyes drifting to her exposed chest as he took a seat at the table. He couldn't help but admire the view afforded by the heather gray v-neck shirt revealing far more than she intended. The top, paired with black leggings and a cream-colored cable knit sweater, hugged her curves and cradled her best assets.
"Ahhh, Lizzie…you know these things take time. Besides, Carlos and I got to reminiscing about that time we were running with the bulls in Pamplona, narrowly escaping certain death, when…"
"I'm sorry to interrupt, truly, I am…but we really need to get going," Lizzie said with a slight growl.
Reddington's face drew in as he pursed his lips. "Very well then…though you'd never guess how the story ended."
"I have a pretty good idea," Lizzie quipped as she began to rise from her seat at the table.
Without warning, Reddington reached for her arm, forcefully encouraging her to retake her seat. She was at first taken aback by the sudden motion, then overtaken with anger and then fear.
"What's going on?" she begged, her eyes wide with inquisition.
"I've been watching a handful of men for the past ten minutes, circling around us like buzzards ready to descend upon a recent kill. I'm not certain, but I fear they've recognized our faces," Red said beneath his breath, his lips barely moving.
"So much for your honed skills of observation," Lizzie thought, chastising herself heartily. "And noticing how attractive Reddington is wearing casual clothes hardly qualifies."
Reddington stood and adjusted his cap. He nonchalantly looked from left to right to further survey the field. Satisfied that the men were, at least momentarily, distracted by other matters, he reached for Lizzie's hand and took hers in his. He led her from the café to the center of the pedestrian mall flooded with increased foot traffic at the noon hour.
"We need to start making our way to the safehouse. Mr. Kaplan has secured a temporary location where we can stay prior to our departure first thing tomorrow morning."
"That's fine and great, but how are we going to lose these tails?" questioned Lizzie.
Before Reddington had a chance to respond, Lizzie caught the flash of his service revolver, holstered for the time being but ready for immediate use. She felt herself become aroused at the sight of his weapon; the implied power and domination was nearly too much for her to handle.
Sensing a change in demeanor, Reddington stopped walking and faced Lizzie, his left hand reaching out to gently stroke her shoulder.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laden with concern. "We'll get through this, I promise."
"Yeah, I'll be okay…I will feel better once we are…" she said as her voice trailed off.
As she attempted to finish the sentence her pulse quickened at the sight of the undercover officers closing in.
"We've got to go…now!" Lizzie said with an urgency that startled even Reddington.
With that they started making their way through the dense crowd, the shouts imploring them to "stop and put their hands in the air" muffled by the shrieks and screams of the people panicking around them.
Finally breaking free they dashed across the busy road separating the green space from the industrial wasteland awaiting them. Upon reaching the sidewalk they traveled on foot for nearly two blocks when they ducked into an alleyway.
"I hate to do this, but I think we increase our odds of escape if we split up," he said, his breath quickened. "Make your way to the safehouse at 25th and Euclid as soon as possible. I've written down the address on this piece of paper. Go!"
Fueled by equal parts indignation and resentment, Lizzie dashed down the alley, looking back to see Reddington poised to do the same.
Thirty minutes passed. Then an hour. Then two. Lizzie nervously paced about the quaintly decorated room of the safehouse. The residence could have been snatched from a 1960's copy of Home and Garden, its appearance a model for the era.
"He will be okay. He is a survivor," Dembe said in his typical demure tone.
"We split up more than two hours ago, and he won't answer his cell. I'm going to look for him." As Lizzie reached for her phone sitting on the end table adjacent to the couch Reddington donned the door. A nod between Dembe and his benefactor was his cue to disappear into the background.
"What the HELL happened to you?!" Lizzie screamed, caring little for who might hear her. "I've been waiting on you for hours, you wouldn't pick up your phone…"
"Well hello, Lizzie. Not quite the greeting I was expecting, but…"
Lizzie leapt forward, shoving him with such force he lost his balance.
"How could you do that to me? Leave me alone to fend for myself? To try and find the safehouse without you? What if something happened to me?"
The words hung heavily in the air as Lizzie's inner monologue ran rampant with self-criticism. "You are a strong, independent woman who doesn't need ANYONE to help you. You can take care of yourself, just as you have done for years." But deep down she knew this was the case. There was something else at play; something she didn't want to admit to herself, much less Reddington. She didn't want to lose him…she didn't want to spend a single minute apart from him. Lizzie dropped her head and began to weep softly as the insight flooded her with emotions of such foreign nature.
"I didn't WANT to leave you, Lizzie…I would go to the ends of the earth to ensure your safety. But in this situation, I felt splitting up was best," he said, keeping his distance for fear of further retaliation.
Lizzie lifted her head and their eyes met. "I know, but…"
She once again lunged forward; but this time, rather than shoving him away she pulled him closer, kissing him fiercely. Her efforts to cloak her true feelings fell away along with the rest of the world.
Reddington's left hand cupped her head while the right landed on the small of her back, propelling her pelvis toward his. He had waited years for this moment, fearful it would never come. But it had…and it was far more spectacular than he ever imagined.
Lizzie felt the dampness between her legs saturate her panties. At her urging, Reddington's hands coursed over the fabric, her leggings now damp as well. He scooped her up into his arms and walked to the nearest sleeping quarters. Setting her gently on the bed he shut the door behind them and removed his hat, carefully placing it on the dresser. He sauntered to her resting place with his charismatic swagger. Within moments he removed her pants and red lace panties, tossing them aside haphazardly.
Reddington buried his head between her legs. His tongue, skillfully flickering and teasing, lapped up her sweet nectar. Her engorged clitoris pulsated as he nipped and sucked. Feeling herself near orgasm she pulled him away, wanting the exchange to never end.
"I can't let you have ALL the fun," she said firmly as she rolled him onto his back.
Sitting atop his groin she felt his welcoming response and smiled. After kissing him softly on the mouth she began to unbutton his shirt.
"You know, I could get used to this casual look. There is something incredibly sexy about this ensemble."
"Oh yeah?" he said as his tongue licked his lips. "What do you like about it?"
"Well, for one, I don't have to wrestle with your tie and vest. I like the idea of immediate access. Now, as for those jeans of yours."
She grabbed the belt with her teeth and began to loosen its grip on his waist.
"I couldn't help but notice how they perfectly outline your oh so plentiful package. Your dress pants are much too loose…though I did always enjoy the view from behind."
Reddington chuckled. "I didn't want to say anything, but I did notice your glances on several occasions."
"As though you didn't return the favor?" she said with a laugh.
Lizzie continued undressing him, pausing briefly when she reached his boxers.
"I always wondered whether you were a boxer or briefs kind of guy. I guess I shouldn't be surprised to see the former, in silk fabric no less. Those lucky, lucky boxers…" she said as her hand began to stroke his member.
Once Reddington was fully disrobed Lizzie followed suit to reveal the rest of her perfectly taught body. She began to kiss his inner thighs before reaching the base of his member. She ran her tongue along his lengthy shaft, her mouth soon engulfing the head.
Reddington let out a guttural moan. "God, don't stop. Oh god, Lizzie." With each palpation and suckle he groaned; her nipples coursing up and down his legs with each movement teased and tickled. She began to feel the telltale signs of orgasm course through his member. Despite his pleas to continue, she stopped.
"Is everything okay? I know we are moving fast, and I just want to make sure you aren't having seconds thoughts," the trepidation in his voice palpable. "I don't want this to complicate matters, or strain our working relationship, whether in or outside the law."
"You talk too much," Lizzie said with a wink. "Let me show you."
She slid onto his member with ease, her core further moistened by her increasingly heightened arousal. Her hips skillfully tugged and pulled him deeper inside. Her breasts swayed with each movement, held static only when cupped by Reddington's hands.
Lizzie lowered her body to be closer to him. As she tightened her core around him she whispered into his ear.
"I love you, Raymond Reddington."
Rolling over, Reddington braced himself on top of her. His thrusts were carefully measured, both in depth and pace. Lizzie gripped the dampened sheets beneath her, determined to hang on as long as she could. But as she felt his engorged member release its warmth in bursts, she, for the first time in her life, totally and completely let herself lose control.
With Lizzie's head on Reddington's shoulder, she took a deep breath and sighed.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?"
"I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean to scream at you. I think my emotions got the better of me. The thought of losing you is overwhelming; I can't imagine my life without you."
"I knew you'd come around," Reddington laughed.
Lizzie propped herself up to see his face, memorizing every last feature as though it would be the last time she'd see him.
"You are such a pain in my ass," she groaned. "Oh, and by the way, when someone says 'I love you,' its only polite to say it back."
By now Reddington had sat up, leaning against the headboard that not 30 minutes prior banged loudly against the wall during their passionate lovemaking.
"Did you ever look at the piece of paper I gave you with the address for the safehouse on it?"
Puzzled, she shook her head as to say "no." "When I got to the corner of 25th and Euclid I saw Dembe about halfway down the street, so I didn't need the exact house number."
"Why don't you take a look…"
With that Lizzie crawled out of bed and reached for her sweater; she had left the scrap of paper in the pocket. She gingerly opened the folded set of instructions. Inside was the typed address, "2760 Euclid Avenue." Below the address was, written in Red's chicken scratch, "I love you, Lizzie. Now and always."
"Red, I am so sorry…I didn't mean to…" she said as she cuddled up next to him, still clutching the note.
"Now who's being a pain in the ass?" he said softly, kissing her on the forehead and then cheek.
Before she could get another word in edgewise he slipped his tongue between her lips, his hand looking to separate the other pair…
To be continued…