Hello everyone. I am new to fan fiction and this is completely daunting on me, so I hope you will be kind.

I've been lingering around the Blacklist fan fiction community anonymously for a while now, as a huge fan of Red and Liz, and the amazing stories you talented authors have written on here. I decided to write one of my own, and I'm sorry if it is terrible (which I get the feeling it really is). I also apologize if everyone is out-of-character. This takes place earlier than the show, where Liz is at Uni, younger, and she has just started getting settled into her life.

I hope you will enjoy. Please be gentle on me ;) Let me know if it's something I should continue with or not.

Touching From A Distance

Elizabeth Scott was in a frantic state. She was running late and was meant to meet her boyfriend of two years, Tom, at a nice and cozy little restaurant she had seen and suggested. As she ran along the footpath, dodging pedestrians, she checked her wrist watch. She huffed out a breath. She was already fifteen minutes late.

From the first moment she walked past the restaurant's building, she knew she wanted to dine there someday with him. It was a charming tiny brick building, and through the glass window as you looked inside, it looked nice and inviting. When she arrived, she pushed through the door and searched for Tom. When she saw he hadn't arrived yet either, she felt relieved; She wasn't the only one that had run late today, it seemed.

The restaurant was reasonably busy at this hour of the day; Low chatter was spreading across the room, and only three tables were vacant. She decided on the easiest one where Tom would see her at, closest to the window, and slipped her bag off her shoulder and onto the hardwood floor. She was still out of breath from her running as she pulled the chair open and sat, and she felt flushed, hot, and exhausted.

Picking up the menu that was laid on the table, she used it as a fan, waving it back and forth over her face to cool down.

"Hello, Lizzie," a man's voice suddenly broke out from behind her.

Liz started and laughed nervously as she dropped the menu. Her fingers instinctively went straight to the angry red scar on her wrist, stroking it to soothe her mind. It was a habit she had developed ever since she could remember.

She turned in her chair to look at the man who had just made himself known, discovering he was sitting at the table next to hers. His chair was facing her back, and he looked harmless enough; Just a mere man in his mid-forties or so, dressed in a vest, white buttoned-up shirt, and trousers. She couldn't see his features properly at the angle she was in; The white fedora hat on his head was strategically placed low on the eyes, but she saw that his lips were twisted into a somewhat fond smile.

It was as if he was greeting an old friend from many, many years ago. But when Liz tried to search her memory for any recollection of this gentleman who was sitting across the table from her, she found none. He knew her nickname, a name no one usually addressed her as, unless they were one of her most closest and personal friends. But she was positive she hadn't met the man before.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but do I, uh, know you?"

"Now that is the golden question, isn't it, Lizzie?" He was leaning over the table slightly in his chair, and his grey eyes seemed to look her over carefully. As if pleased by what he saw, he gave out a soft, unnerving laugh. "Such a pleasure to see you, as always." There was a warmth in his voice that didn't go unnoticed by her. "And you have changed your hairstyle since the last time I saw you, I see. Such a pleasure."

Liz opened her mouth to say something, found she couldn't, and closed it again. She really had no idea who this man was, and yet, here he was, telling her how she had changed her hairstyle since the last time he saw her? Telling her how much of a pleasure it was to see her?

It seemed she had taken too long to find her voice again. The instance she thought of something good to say, the man was off, consulting his own menu on the table.

"If you're going to eat here, I do suggest you try the maple-glazed salmon. It's divine, and the salmon just melts in your mouth. It is simply to die for, Lizzie."

She could feel herself reddening from her scalp downwards, and an uncomfortable feeling was gnawing away in her stomach. She couldn't wrap her head around it all; How could this man possibly know her, right down to her name and the way she changed her hair, and yet, she couldn't remember him at all? Unless he was actually stalking her, which seemed a sudden, unsettling possibility.

"Actually, I wasn't intending on eating anything," she said, and her voice sounded too quiet, too nervous, "I'm waiting for my boyfriend. We were going to have some coffee. But thanks for the recommendation."

"Shame," the man said, with a sigh. "You are missing out on some excellent food, Lizzie."

Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie.

It was beginning to grate on her nerves.

She tried again slowly, trying to make her voice not give away any of the frustration and confusion she was feeling. "As I said, I don't believe we've met?"

If he had heard what she had just said, he did well in pretending he hadn't. "You moved here for college, didn't you, Lizzie? Over two years ago? Do you get back home to see your father much?" He smiled at her wistfully. "God, I haven't been home in years."

Something broke inside of Liz, mainly due to the uncomfortable feeling building in her stomach. "Who are you?" she demanded. He had ruffled her feathers enough. She had come here for some quiet time - and, hopefully - an enjoyable coffee shared with her boyfriend Tom. Not once did she expect something like this to happen to her, where she would be having one-sided conversation with a man who seemed to know literally everything about her. "How do you know so much about me?"

"How is that old man of yours, Lizzie? Is he well? I haven't seen Sam in years."

Suddenly, along with his words, all the tension seemed to leave her body. So the man wasn't a stalker, but he was a close friend to her father. Maybe she had met this man when she was a younger girl, only she couldn't remember. It certainly explained everything.

"So you knew my father," she said slowly, and she heard the relief in her own voice. It definitely explained everything. "I haven't heard from him much, but I hear he is doing well. I don't hear from him much since I moved away for college. But he-"

Her voice was drowned out by another calling for her, and she turned to look to find her boyfriend, Tom, strolling into the restaurant. He had finally arrived, and she hadn't felt so glad in her entire life.

"Excuse me," she told the man quickly and turned to her boyfriend, who looked lost. "Babe, I'm over here."

Tom looked like he was swelling with relief, and he smiled at her happily. She had met Tom at GWU, and he was studying to become a teacher. He looked worn-out from his morning lectures.

"Oh, Lizzie," she thought she heard the man at the table behind her say. "You can do so much better, and yet you don't even know it."

She turned her eyes away from her approaching boyfriend and stared at the man, uncertain whether he had actually said those words just then or not.

He had already risen from his seat and was sliding his arms into a long black coat, then he delved a hand into the breast pocket of the coat and produced a pair of amber-tinted sunglasses, which he slid on effortlessly over his eyes. His expression was like a sigh.

Liz felt her eyebrows lift; It wasn't a cold day, but it wasn't a hot one either. No doubt, it would have been stuffy in that coat. The man stepped between their table, took her hand in his, and guided it towards his lips, giving her knuckles a kiss. Liz leaned back slightly in her chair, stunned. What was this man's deal? How did he know her? He looked down at her through the round disks of his sunglasses and she was staggered by how much warmth was in his expression for her.

"I have no doubts that we'll meet again soon, Lizzie. Take care now."

He let her wiggle her hand free and his lips left tingling aftereffects on her skin.

She could feel Tom staring as the man beat a hasty retreat and she found she needed her menu as a fake fan for an entirely different reason. When Tom slid into the chair next to her, he gave her a quick peck on the lips and leaned back to look at her. There was a question forming in his eyes, and she knew exactly what he was about to ask.

"Please, Tom," she laughed, holding up a hand. "I know what you're going to say, but I have no idea what just happened myself."

"Who was that guy?" Tom asked, the brilliant unsolved question. "He looked as if he knew you?"

"He sounded as if he knew me, too." Liz shook her head in shock, feeling herself redden; It had become the most strangest morning, particularly thanks to this suavely dressed gentleman who seemed to know every little personal detail on her. She looked down at her hand, at her knuckles, where the man had kissed them. They were still giving off a funny tingling sensation, and she wasn't sure why. Desperate to put the man aside, she forced herself into changing the topic of conversation. "So, how did it go this morning?"

Tom rubbed a hand over his unshaven chin and blinked at her heavily through his thick rimmed glasses. "You wouldn't guess what happened this morning, babe."

"What?" she asked excitedly. "Tell me! I'm on pins and needles here!"

"Well," he sucked in a deep breath, and Liz knew an exciting announcement was coming, "They offered me an internship! Can you believe that?"

"Oh, that's great!" Laughing gleefully, she lunged at him in her chair, throwing her arms around his shoulders tightly. "Tom, that's the best news. We should go celebrate?"

"Where, though?" He asked, when they separated.

"Anywhere," she insisted, smiling so widely that her mouth began aching. "Let's go for a walk in the park."

"Hudson would have liked it. It's too bad we can't bring him with us." Hudson was their twelve week old puppy. It was going to take a lot of effort to train him; He was boisterous and got so anxious to see the pair of them that he would jump all over them. "He hasn't been around the park yet."

"Maybe tomorrow." Liz got to her feet and pushed her bag over her shoulder, their plans for coffee laid aside. "Come on. It's a beautiful day. Let's take a walk."

"Let's do it," Tom agreed, getting to his feet. He offered her his arm and she slipped her hand around it, the pair of them grinning from ear to ear.

It was just a two block's walk to the park. The park opened up into a long, beautiful stretch of green grass. In the center of it was a water-fountain and some benches where it was always nice to sit at and take in the view. It was reasonably busy at this time of the day; People were walking their dogs, mother's were pushing their babies around in their strollers, students from her college had their noses buried in their books while they sat on the grass in groups.

"We definitely have to take Hudson here one day, babe," Tom was saying, when something caught Liz's eye a few meters in front of them.

A poster was stuck on the thick trunk of a tree, and as they gradually got closer and closer, she realized why the face on it looked oddly familiar to her.

F.B.I'S Most Wanted

Raymond Reddington

"I bet he'll love rolling around in the grass," Tom was going on, although Liz wasn't exactly listening.

She stopped dead in her tracks. "Shut up," she said softly, in shock.

"What?" Tom asked her in amusement. "Did you really just tell me to shut up, babe?"

"No, Tom, look..." With a hand that was trembling, she gestured over towards the F.B.I's Most Wanted poster. "That man from this morning... the man who kissed my hand...that's him on the poster!"

"Bullshit," Tom laughed. It was obvious he didn't believe her for a second.

"I swear, Tom; It was the same guy! It was just hard, because he was wearing a hat and glasses! I know it's him!"

Tom was still laughing at her. It didn't feel very good to be laughed at by someone who was meant to support you and have your back. He wasn't supposed to laugh. "Babe, you're studying criminology and you didn't even pick up on who that guy was while you were near him?"

"Screw you, Tom," she muttered under her breath. "What should I do? Do you think I should call the number on the poster and give them a tip-off that he's here in this area?"

"I don't know," Tom said. "Do whatever you want."

She considered taking down the F.B.I's number, but then realized it was probably no good; This man, Raymond Reddington, was probably already halfway across the state by now. She couldn't believe she had failed to recognize him straight off the bat, though. But how was she meant to know? She didn't know everything. Studying had been her number one priority this year. She couldn't help but wonder how one of the F.B.I's Most Wanted fugitives knew of her. He even knew her father Sam. Liz didn't think her father was the type of man to associate with and befriend wanted criminals.

She turned slowly to face Tom. "Should I?"

"As I said, do whatever you want, babe. You want to call them, then do it. Whatever feels right, then do it."

In all her indecision, she slipped an arm over Tom's back, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "I don't know, Tom," she murmured slowly. "He's probably already halfway out of here. I don't think it will be of any help anyway."

"Then don't call them," Tom said, with an unconcerned shrug.

Liz had her mind finally made up. She turned away from the poster stuck on the tree and forced a smile on her lips. "Come on," she said, trying to make her voice intentionally brighter. "Let's get to our apartment and see what that puppy of ours is up to. Let's hope he hasn't gotten into too much mischief."

Unfortunately, their hopes were soiled the instance they pushed inside their apartment. Hudson had ripped apart a few of the decorative pillows lying on their couch, and stuffing was everywhere. He had even made a mess all over the kitchen floor, since he hadn't been fully house trained yet. The instance they got inside and looked around, Hudson came running straight to them with one of Liz's shoes in his mouth, his tail wagging excitedly.

"Hudson, no!" Liz growled, kneeling and trying to pull her shoe free. The dog only just growled playfully, obviously assuming it was all a game of tug-of-war. "Give me my shoe. Give it!"

"Whose smart idea was it to get a dog?" Tom remarked from behind her dryly.

Liz rolled her eyes and gave up on attempting to pry her shoe free. Instead, she grabbed Hudson and held him close. Yes, it had been her smart idea for them to get a dog. Although he had ruined their cushions and had probably wrecked her shoe, she still couldn't bring herself to regret her decision. In her eyes, a house is never home without a pet in it to live with.

"I said, whose smart idea was it?" Tom repeated, and she knew he was trying to make her feel guilty.

"It was mine," she clarified, crunching up her face as Hudson's tongue started licking around her face. "All mine. I don't regret it, though."

"Not even with all the mess he has made?"

"He's a puppy, Tom. What do you expect?"

"Well, I hope you know we have an inspection next week. You have to make sure the apartment is clean and that he doesn't ruin anything else, Liz."

"Yes, Tom," she muttered, her voice singing with sarcasm. "I will. Everything will be spotless when they come for the inspection, I promise."

Tom pushed past her and ignored Hudson as he tried to jump up and get his attention. The dog made a gentle whining noise, and Liz gathered him in her arms before turning and walking outside the front door. She let him loose on the grass while she sat on the steps, folding her arms over her knees. Sometimes she couldn't help but regret Tom.

It was Tom she found herself regretting, never the puppy they had gotten. She had learned, while moving in with him, that Tom could be demanding and everything was always her fault. Even mess a puppy she couldn't control made. It never was like that before, when they had first met. Tom was always charming and never moody, but since they had moved in together, his moods seemed to constantly change at the drop of a hat.

She whistled through her teeth and smiled to herself as Hudson looked up at her at the strange sound. One of his ears flopped, and he barked before racing up the steps to lick the closest one of her hands he could find.

"You ruined one of my shoes," she told him sternly. "Next time, I suggest you ruin one of Tom's instead. Deal?"

He cocked his head to the side and blinked at her. Their conversation was obviously going to be one-sided, but sometimes talking to Hudson didn't make her feel so alone.

A black Mercedes went slowly rolling down past her street and she stared at it in confusion. She had never seen a Mercedes going past her front door before. Weird. A few minutes later, the car went past her street a second time. On the third time it went past, the tinted window on the driver's side was scrolled down and a dark-skinned man smiled at her good-naturedly from where she sat, with Hudson straining and nipping to get out of her arms. She smiled back, but she couldn't pretend it was uncomfortable; The fact that the car kept going around and around in circles past her house.

"Liz, are you going to clean this mess up or what?" Tom's irritated voice suddenly erupted from inside the house, and she startled.

"Yes, babe," she called back, and getting to her feet with Hudson still in her arms, she went inside, ignoring the Mercedes that went past the apartment for a fourth time.

a/n: I hope this wasn't terrible. I would love to know if it's something you think is worthy continuing on. Thanks!