Disclaimer: Not mine! At all!
Author's Note: The title for this collection comes from my ladies in the Gutter, who encouraged me to post these, saying they loved my little "filets"... an adorable typo instead of "ficlets". And the title was born. :) Blatant disregard for the one-sentence part of the FB Lizzington Shippers ONE SENTENCE Stories on this one. Also? Imagine this situated sometime in the first half of Season Three, while Red and Liz are on the run together.
Prompt: "Blackboard"
...:::...
Their latest safe house was comfortable and warm, and Liz reveled in the normalcy of the evening. Reddington leaned forward and offered to refill Liz's wine, but she waved him off, wrinkling her nose and hovering her palm over the top of her glass to block any attempts at pouring more for her. He gave a knowing smile as he reclined again, his arm thrown out across the back of the sofa next to him. "Last Thursday really taught you a lesson, didn't it?" he asked rhetorically.
Liz sighed, slightly embarrassed. "Yes. 'Five glasses of wine is too many'," she admitted dutifully.
"And I didn't even need to make you write that out a hundred times on a blackboard in chalk." Reddington sipped his drink. "Though there are a few other behaviors of yours we might work on by employing that method..."
Liz gave a jokingly accosted scoff, one hand on her chest as if he'd wounded her. "Oh really? For instance...?"
"'Raymond Reddington's hats are not disposable items'," he replied.
"That was one time!" Liz cried out in her own defense, laughing. "And I've apologized I-don't-know-how-many-times at this point. Besides, I really thought not getting arrested was more important than a fashion accessory."
"'A good hat is more than just "a fashion accessory"'," Reddington continued.
"You're never going to let me live that down," Liz said, still smiling and shaking her head.
"'Raymond Reddington is always correct'," he suggested.
Liz rolled her eyes. "Like you don't need to write 'Torturing someone for information does not count as social interaction' a hundred times? I think you could stand to learn a few lessons this way yourself." Liz raised her eyebrows pointedly and crossed her arms.
"'I will not refer to people born before 1970 as "old"'."
"Ha!" Liz barked out a laugh. "I knew I struck a nerve with that one! Okay, okay, um... 'I will not discharge a firearm in a crowded restaurant just so I get my egg drop soup faster'."
Reddington nodded his head forward, acknowledging the fair point. "'Graciously accepting gifts is the polite thing to do'." He offered this with his eyes downcast, but looked up in time to catch the smile fade from Liz's face as their joke staled.
"'You can't buy love or forgiveness'," Liz responded.
"'I deserve happiness'."
"'I must tell the truth'," Liz fired back.
"'Red does not lie to me'," Reddington said, his voice suddenly low and soft, but very serious.
Silence stretched between them as each wondered who would be the first to look away. Finally, Liz gave in. Forcing a small smile, she shrugged, and leaned forward to grab her empty wine glass and dessert plate from the coffee table in front of her. "Really is too bad we don't have a blackboard, hmm?" she said quietly as she moved to the small kitchen to clean up.
...:::...
