DARK ROADS & OPEN DOORS

Disclaimer: I do not own the Blacklist or any of the characters depicted in this work of fanfiction, except those not recognised from the show. Making no profit, yadda yadda yadda.

CHAPTER 1

"Shit," Liz Keen swore, kicking the front tyre of the company car that had just spectacularly broken down in the middle of nowhere. She spared a glance at her passenger and bizarre work partner who sat stone still, cuffed to the door handle, although his eyes were trained solely upon her and danced with mirth at their current situation. Heaving a sigh she pulled her phone from her back pocket as she made to sit behind the wheel of the sedan; "Damn," she cursed, pocketing her phone, "no signal." Reddington snorted in response – of course there'd be no signal; that would be far too easy. "Looks like we might be stopping here for the night," she said, agitated at the whole situation; why he had to meet his contact in the ass-end of nowhere was beyond her; but he had assured the team that they'd never catch his Number Nine without the information he could get from the man they were going to meet, so off they went with the team's blessing.

"You might want to put your coat on," Red disturbed her thoughts; "it gets rather cold out here at night." Lizzie considered his suggestion and agreed, pulling her coat from the back seat and slipping it on. They sat in silence for a while. "So?" Red prompted out of the blue.

"So, what?"

"Did you want to sit here in silence?"

"You want to ask questions all night?"

"I'm naturally curious."

"No, you're inordinately curious. Infuriatingly, even."

"Well I'd quite like to chat."

"When have you ever just chatted?" He said nothing in response. "Okay, what do you want to talk about, Red?"

"Is everything alright at home? You've seemed tense when you arrive in the office in the mornings."

"Everything's fine."

"Of course it is."

"And I suppose you know exactly what goes on behind the closed doors and curtains of my house?"

"There was a time."

"You- you bugged my house? When?" Lizzie demanded, turning in her seat to face him.

"Briefly; a couple of years ago," he admitted with a shrug.

"Why would you do that?"

"I told you, curious by nature."

"That's not the reason at all; don't lie to me, Red."

"It is true. Although I did notice that your husband is very careful around the house."

"And? He likes things to be neat."

"He's more than just 'neat', Lizzie. He used to walk around in the evenings wiping your house clean of prints. Now tell me, why do you think he'd do that?"

"I... I don't know; he does strange things sometimes – maybe he'd been watching too much CSI." She shook her head and fixed him with a look that brooked no argument. "Look, I'm done with this line of questioning. Tom is off limits, end of conversation."

The awkward silence following her statement filled the car and stifled any response he may have been considering. Briefly, he turned his attention to the darkness outside and allowed a small smirk to flit across his features.

"You know, I think I saw a sign for a motel a mile or so back down the road."

"Seriously?"

"You're shivering, Lizzie; the car isn't going to keep you warm and nor is arguing."

"I suppose we could check it out – but you're walking ahead of me the whole time. I don't need you pulling any stunts."

"I hardly planned for your car to break down," he retorted dryly, though the raised brow of her response said she wasn't entirely convinced. She opened her door and exited the car, coming around to the passenger door to let him out and uncuff him. "Thank you," he uttered softly, rubbing at his wrists.

"You want to grab your bag?"

"I'll carry both."

He swung her bag up on to his right shoulder and casually held his own by its luxury leather handles

"Thanks," Lizzie offered before gesturing that he should start walking.

They walked at a reasonable pace but Liz could still feel the cold seeping into her joints, making her tired and achy. It wasn't long before her teeth began to chatter, and the effort of gritting her teeth to stop it made her jaw ache; She pulled her coat tightly around herself and continued to walk a pace or so behind Reddington in order to keep him in her sights at all times.

"Stop," Red's command came so suddenly that she did so without argument. "Take off your coat," he ordered. She stared at him as though he were a madman, then watched as he opened his bag and rummaged around before he pulled out a deep red knitted sweater and held it out to her. Quickly, she removed her coat and grabbed the proffered extra layer, pulling it over her head and briefly revelling in the softness of the material before whipping her coat back on; she pulled the too-long sleeves down and balled her fists around the ends to keep her hands warm and, with a muttered "Thanks," gestured for him to start walking again. They soon reached a crossroads with a sign that simply stated 'MOTEL' along with 'NEXT LEFT'; it was another mile West.

"Should've stayed in the damn car," Lizzie grumbled as she trudged after Reddington, "we'll freeze to death either way." Twenty minutes down the road saw the pair standing at the edge of the small parking lot of the somewhat run-down motel; it was Red's turn to grumble.

"Stay in the car, you said? A fabulous idea; let's go back." He made to turn and walk back again, but Lizzie grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and pulled him back to face the motel.

"Oh, no you don't. This was your idea in the first place. You make your bed, Red."

"I haven't made any beds at this place, and I shudder at the thought of having to do so." Liz barked a dry laugh at his discomfiture and he offered a half-smile at her amusement.

Lizzie led him to the small – highly cluttered – office, where a slight young man sat behind the counter and regarded them with curiosity through the glass of the door. Lizzie walked into the office and gave the clerk a sweet smile. "Hi, we were heading to Edison and our car broke down; do you have any rooms for tonight?"

"Just one double room left, ma'am." She evidently didn't hide her surprise at how a middle-of-nowhere motel was full as the clerk continued; "we've had a rush on account of the Robertson's daughter's wedding."

"I see. So, just the one double room left?" The clerk nodded. "If you'll excuse me for just a second." Lizzie stepped back out into the parking lot where Red made to hand over her bag.

"One room left? Great. I'll go back to the car!"

"I'm not letting you out of my sight, Red."

"I will personally cuff myself to the rear passenger door," he offered, but she had already gone back into the office. Resigned to a night on the couch, he followed her.

"My husband would like a little more detail about the room – he's picky like that," she said with a sweet smile, feeling Red's eyes practically boring a hole into the back of her head; "is there a TV? Couch? Bath or shower?" she reeled off the items as though it were a checklist she was familiar with asking on behalf of her 'husband'.

"Um... there's an armchair, a small TV, and there's a shower over the bath so you have a choice."

"Perfect!" she responded with so much false enthusiasm she thought she might make herself ill, "We'll take the room, sweetie," she said brightly but firmly, leaving no room for Red to argue over her shoulder.

"Of course, dear," he muttered as the clerk busied himself with the paperwork and locating their key in the clutter.

Liz woke suddenly with a jerk; her eyes scanned the darkness of the unfamiliar room and alighted on Reddington, the outline of his form illuminated by the moonlight, apparently struggling to move the overstuffed and awkwardly-shaped armchair closer to the empty side of the bed.

"What are you doing?" she mumbled at him, voice laced with sleep.

He immediately stopped what he was doing and stood up straight; from her considerably lower vantage point she realised his broadness and considered he could be physically intimidating, despite his often genteel appearances. "Ah, did I wake you?"

"I don't know, maybe," she responded, rubbing at her eye. "You didn't answer my question."

"I can't sleep in the chair over there so I thought I'd move it over here and put my feet up on the corner of the bed," he explained evenly.

"Seriously?"

"It's a better idea than sleeping in the bath," he responded flatly; it was evident that he was getting cranky from lack of sleep. Liz weighed up her options before making her choice.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this," she muttered to herself before addressing him again; "the bed is plenty big enough. Pass me the spare pillow." Red tossed the pillow from the armchair over to her and watched as she placed it in the middle of the bed. "There," she announced, "you stay on your side and I'll stay on mine."

"Are you certain?"

"It's a bed, Red. Now let me sleep, or I'll cuff you to the radiator."

"When you put it like that..." She huffed in response and soon felt the covers being pulled down and the dip as he settled himself on the opposite side. "Goodnight, dear."

"It's morning now, sweetie," she mumbled mockingly before she fell asleep once again.