So this is the unthinkable, thought about then written down. My bad! The idea first came to me through fanfiction and it stayed with me all this time. I consider it not out of the realms of possibility, no matter how difficult it may be to digest, that Red is using Liz and that there is a much bigger story to tell.

I'm a huge fan of angst so there is more than plenty of it here to go around. I know RedxLizzie asked about character death and the warning that should come with such a story line but I don't want to give anything away. If you know how I like my stories then that should give you some assurances xx

Monday might change everything or nothing, so for now this is set after ep 13. I have never once said this but for laughs I'm stating that I don't own the Blacklist ... I wish I owned James Spader. And just so you know, I wouldn't loan him out ;-)

Now is the time

Chapter 1

In the end it wasn't some dramatic shoot out or an clandestine operation gone wrong, that led to Tom's unveiling and unceremonious downfall. In fact the catalyst for the event was so domestic Lizzie didn't see it coming.

For months Tom had continued to be there for her, to say they could overcome the hardship of their failed adoption and the pressures of her job, but Lizzie could never let her guard down with him. She'd heard too much from Red, retained too many of her own suspicions to truly trust him again.

Tom was no fool, but then neither was she. The first time she caught him looking at her with dark menacing eyes it almost took her breath away, so unaccustomed was she to seeing the real face of Tom Keen. But desperation made him more dangerous than she could imagine, and the more their marriage began to fail, and with it his mission to stay close to her, the more reckless he became.

Sometimes he would continue with the charade but other times his actions were unpredictable. One such day he was building a new bedside table, approaching the flat pack furniture with the bravado of a man lacking the skill set to complete the job. Lizzie left him to it initially, taking care of other household duties that had gone undone for a little too long.

"Fuck" she hears him curse from the other room. She knows already which Tom she's about to see.

She walks in cautiously to see how his project is fairing. Maybe a little too cautiously because he jumps when he sees her, her silent approach angering him further.

"Jesus Lizzie" she spits out. He's holding the instructions and a little bracket, which he's obviously struggling to identify and find a home for.

"Can I help?" she asks quietly, not making eye contact with him, hoping not to anger him further.

"I've got this" he says his tone thick with contempt while he offers her what he must think is a reassuring smile.

She walks closer, examining the instructions and bracket over his shoulder. She sees on the diagram a small part that looks like the part Tom is holding but she wants to adjust the angle just to be sure, so she reaches for it.

As her fingers tighten on the bracket so do Tom's. "I got this" he almost spits at her, tugging hard on the small object. He starts to turn his body to her, using his superior weight to get the upper hand.

"For gods' sakes Tom" she says through gritted teeth.

And that's when it happens. Unexpectedly his fingers slip from the object. She is surprised and unable to compensate in time as the hand holding the object is released and she automatically brings it towards her.

It catches her above the eye, in an area that somehow seems prone to injury. The two of them are momentarily stunned by the accident and neither move. Then she feels the hot blood as it trickles over her eye.

"Liz, I'm sorry"

"It's fine, it's fine" she says dismissing him.

She shuns his offer of help, dressing the shallow wound herself. She tries icing it but can't help the bruise that develops. There will be no hiding this, no matter how she tries. Tomorrow at the Blacksite she'll keep her head down and hope for the best.


Lizzie enters the Blacksite the next day and is pleasantly surprised when people take the, home improvement, explanation for her injury at face value. She thinks she might just get away with it; after all it was an accident, not domestic abuse. She thinks that, right until Red arrives, locking eyes with her, registering every detail of her injury.

"Lizzie" he says in the lowest volume and octave that will allow her to hear, "what happened to your eye?"

She is momentarily stunned, there is an edge to his voice, a warning that tells her not to lie, not to conceal the truth from him in any way. And yet the truth is that this isn't as bad as it looks.

"Red, it was an accident." She says.

"Lizzie" he says again. Stepping close, lifting his hand to the side of her face and examining the wound. She is caught in his grasp, he's not holding her but she is unable to step away.

"Really" she says pleading.

"Are you telling me Tom wasn't involved?" Red asks her.

"He... We were just... It was my fault" she tries to explain.

"Why didn't you tell me it had gotten this bad? Why?" He says, seeming at once disappointed with her and concerned.

"No, it's not like that. Things have been strained, failing apart even, but this isn't part of it. It really was an accident" she says, trying to explain.

Red just continues to examine her eye. Stepping closer still, until their bodies are almost touching, "Lizzie" he breathes. She closes her eyes, feeling the heat from his body and the security she's been lacking all these months. A stray tear escapes between her lashes, she isn't crying, or at least she's not sure why. The one thing she knows is that she can rely on him; he is a constant for her when her home life is crumbling.

When she gets home that night Tom isn't there. Hours later she tries his cell phone, concerned that he hasn't contacted her. But he doesn't pick up and her messages go unanswered.

She sits up the whole night waiting for him. But Tom makes no appearance. At 6am there is a knock at the door. When she answers it she is greeted by two FBI agents, field agents out of the main DC office who tell her Tom is in the hospital, in their custody, and they have evidence linking him to a series of serious crimes.

Red.

The next few days are a blur. She's questioned, debriefed and informed of the horrible, if predictable, truth about her husband. She's reeling from it, and Red is there, silently anchoring her to the world. And he continues to do that in the coming months.


"I need you to go undercover to join Ressler and Malik." Cooper tells them.

Lizzie looks over at Red, he looks nonplussed about Cooper's statement, he's obviously known all about the undercover operation they've had going on these past months.

Red had given them details of a Blacklister but in their eager attempt to evidence gather they'd given themselves away and spooked him. Red was irked by their incompetency but seemed ambivalent about pursuing him further, certain another chance would come.

But of course that wasn't the FBI way and they'd doggedly hunted down their man, which had finally resulted in a clue to his location. They'd discovered his partner, a well respected businessman, and they planned to watch him until their target appeared. The undercover operation was deemed necessary as the Blacklister remained elusive and suspicious in a way that suggested self preservation.

She looks back at Cooper who continues, "Your cover is established. Ressler and Malik think things have moved forward, we want you both in place, the sooner the better."

"What's our cover story?" She asks.

"You're husband and wife" Cooper responds, his eyes moving from them to a message on his screen.

Lizzie answers, "Okay" just as Red says an emphatic, "no".

Cooper looks round at them, "problem?"

The silence extends, Lizzie blushes slightly, she's embarrassed but she's not certain why. "Fine, I can be your daughter" she says reminding him of a conversation from long ago. She sees a smile light his eyes but other than that he makes no response.

"Out of the question Keen. You aliases are out there, we can't change them now" Cooper says looking from her to Red.

"Very well Harold" Red says before he rises from his seat, takes the envelope with the details from Cooper and leaves the room.


They've been undercover for a week; settling in to new routines, trying to get comfortable around each other. It's been easier than she expected. Red is always considerate, always the gentleman, and if she's honest she's enjoying the chance to be this close. That evening they're attending a party that the partner is scheduled to attend, it's their first official public engagement with their personas, with the story that they're married.

The party is black tie so she slips on an expensive floor length dress, and matching Christian Louboutins. The outfit is divine and she wonders if Red helped to pick out her wardrobe for the trip, everything about the high end designer tags tells her he did. The material cascades down her body, catching her in just the right places. She surveys herself in the mirror, pleased with her appearance. She wonders what Red will think, realising she's trying to impress him and no one else.

She slowly makes her way downstairs. He's in the dining room, with a glass of wine in hand and the newspaper in front of him. He doesn't look up but says, "Ready to go?"

She's a little disappointed, thinking the minute to take his breath away has passed. "Sure" she says as she turns and goes to retrieve her coat.

When she's distracted is when he chooses to look up, but he tries not to look directly at her, instead using his peripheral vision to get an impression of how she looks. He doesn't want to be dazzled by her appearance, doesn't want to be distracted.

When they arrive at the party she takes his arm, he looks at her out of the corner of his eye, questioning. She just raises her eyebrows at him, smiling slightly. She's doing what's expected of her, even if she is enjoying it a bit too much.

The party is being held in someone's garden. The type of garden that needs a team of landscapers just to keep the ornamental trees in check. With the outdoor lights and candles it's breathtaking. After being greeted by the host they make their way further in, noticing but not acknowledging Ressler and Meera.

They manage small talk with a few other guests, Red introduces her as his wife but beyond that she's mostly sidelined from the conversation. She smiles at him, tries to stay close and involved but it's no easy task. She's somehow left to the side, adrift from him, adrift for the conversation. It goes on like this, as they circulate the party, meeting more and more of the guests. Eventually they move on to Ressler and Meera, but through careful orchestration they've managed to create a little distance between them and the other guests.

"You two are quite the convincing couple." Lizzie says smiling at them and raising an eyebrow at Meera.

"Well you're sure as hell not. I haven't seen such bad acting since the amateur dramatics club in high school." Ressler responds. "No one is buying it that you two are married, I can't believe I'm saying this but you better get your shit together before you blow this whole thing".

"Calm down Donald. Lizzie and I are doing just fine." Red responds, dismissing the remark.

"If by fine you mean platonic then yes, you are most certainly fine. But your cover story, the reality these people expect is that you're quite recently married. People expect that you won't be able to keep your hands off her, but you've barely looked at her." Donald explains.

"What do you want us to do Donald?" Lizzie asks.

"Turn the passion up a notch maybe, no scrub that, turn it on, since right now it's nonexistent. You know how Red is with you, but tonight, when he could give that free rein he's acting like you're poison and he's coming down with a bad case of anaphylaxis" Donald says, a fake smile on his lips while he surveys the rest of the party. They move again, Lizzie is mindful of Ressler's remarks so she tries to stand closer, giving Red the opportunity to act the part.

Later she's aware that they are doing no better a job. If anything Red is a little more tactile but he's no more affectionate. They look like partners, not husband and wife. She makes her excuses, making her way inside and into the bathroom. She's leaning against the door taking some deep calming breaths when she hears the lock turn.

She steps back from the door, not sure what to expect when Meera comes in. She closes the door and re-locks it.

"What the hell Keen?" Meera says quietly.

"I don't know. I don't know" she says holding her hands up in defence.

Meera just stares at her, sceptically for a few minutes. Red should add threatening to his 'attractive but treacherous' description of Meera because she feels the full weight of her inquisitive stare.

"I don't know Meera. It's been like this for a while. I know what Ressler says but it's been happening less and less. I don't see him as often, he's definitely pulling away, and I don't know why. He can't even pretend to be interested" she explains, sounding a little more emotional than she'd like but less than she feels.

"Maybe Reddington's playing the old, 'treat em mean, keep em keen' game", Meera says with a raised eyebrow indicating the humour she sees in the situation. "But I think you should make your excuses and go. I've had to live with haircut for months, I'm not about blow this either".

Meera leaves and after a few minutes Lizzie follows, she explains she's suddenly not feeling well to a member of the waiting staff, asking them to pass a message to her husband to meet her outside.

She makes her way to the front of the house, trying her best to look under the weather but not fragile enough that someone comes to offer assistance. After a few minutes Red appears with her coat.

"Lizzie?" He says, an anxious expression in his eyes.

"I thought we'd better leave, ill health seemed like as good an excuse as any" she explains.

They make their way back to the car and back to the house in silence. Once inside Red goes to the kitchen and pours them both a drink. She slips off her shoes at the door and follows him to the back of the house, gratefully accepting the drink he offers.

Silence again prevails and she realises the truth of what she said to Meera tonight. Something has changed between her and Red. When her own feelings for him were growing she was a little blind to it, or in denial, but there's no getting away from it now. She plans to finish her drink, and then go to bed but Red interrupts her thoughts.

"Lizzie, you looked radiant tonight." He says.

She lets out a disbelieving huff of air.

"You don't believe me? Every man at that party wanted to be with you." He says.

"Every man except the one I was with" she says giving him a look of incredulity. He looks back, his expression almost neutral but with a hint of something, maybe anger, she can't be sure.

She's too tired to make sense of this, to make sense of him. "Goodnight Red" she says putting the drink on the counter and leaving the kitchen.

"Lizzie" he says following her.

"Next time I'll insist you get teamed with someone a bit more desirable shall I?" she says as she continues across the room.

"Lizzie" he says, his dark and foreboding tone stopping her in her tracks.

She turns to look at him, the shame of the evenings rejection heating her face, "It's fine." She nods her head, "I get it." The defeated tone letting him know that she thinks she understands, that he doesn't want her and doesn't find her attractive.

She's about to turn and make her way upstairs when he steps towards her. She's frozen to the spot as he moves in, placing one hand on her waist and one in her hair. He meets her eyes for a few moments, holding her gaze.

Of course he's warring with himself, he wants this but he knows it's wrong. It's why he's been withdrawing; he didn't mean to be intentionally cruel to her in this way. When he sensed her growing attraction he took steps to avoid this, ensuring he wasn't encouraging her feelings.

He wants to kiss her, he has for the longest time, his desire at first taking him by surprise but now he's grown accustomed to it. It hasn't changed his plan, he's still in for the long play, he's used to not getting what he wants so going without her when he desires her is nothing new.

And yet still he finds himself leaning in, watching her as she closes her eyes in expectation of his kiss. Truthfully he's flattered she wants him but it shouldn't have gotten this far and he most certainly cannot allow this event to be repeated or to go beyond this moment.

The moment their lips meet though he feels like he never wants it to stop. For a few seconds it's gentle and loving but then their collective desire is unleashed and he's pulling her body into his with every ounce of strength that he has, she groans and he feels it within him, spurring him on. Despite it all he remembers himself and manages to stop, suddenly releasing her from his tight grasps but staying close.

After a few moments he says, "Don't ever think that you're not desirable. Don't ever think that I wouldn't want you, that there isn't a man alive who wouldn't jump at the chance to have you. What I just did is what I've wanted to do since we met. Never ever think otherwise". He wants to say something else. To explain the how and the why of the unknown history they share but he can't rob himself of the future he has been planning for so long, so instead he bids her goodnight and watches her walk upstairs.

When she's in bed he pours himself another stiff drink. He acknowledges the mistake that he just made. He suppressed the emotions he was feeling before, but there is no getting away from it now. He is conflicted and knows that only distance and clear thought will get him back, bring it all back.

Lizzie wakes up the next day immediately remembering the feel of his lips on hers and the desperate way he pulled her to him. The memory washes over her, leaving her dizzy and breathless.

She gets up and goes for a shower. She wants to be presentable when she sees him, so she takes her time drying her hair, applying a minimal but effective amount of makeup. Leaving her bedroom she goes in search of him, only a little puzzled when he isn't downstairs, Red is an early riser and she's never up before him. Nervously chapping on his bedroom door she waits for a response but when there isn't one she pushes it open, finding the room empty.

Hours pass and still Red doesn't appear, she's growing more and more anxious. It would be just like him to instantly materialise, belittling her concern but he doesn't, and the worry that's been plaguing her all morning reaches fever pitch. She goes back to his bedroom and begins to search; it's not long before she finds the tracking chip, washed clean, on the side of the sink. It feels like the earth falls away, while the focus tightly shifts to her. She staggers from the room, finding her phone and calling it in.

Hours later she's joined by Ressler and Meera in the kitchen of their house. By being here they are effectively blowing their cover, blowing the case. But without Red there is nothing, so it seems inconsequential.

"What the fuck happened?" Ressler says, the fury in his voice evident.

"I don't know" she says.

"Now is not the time to conceal anything from us. We need a blow by blow account, make it quick." Donald says.

"We came home, we didn't say anything. I guess I was a little bristly but I was humiliated by him sidelining me. Fuck! We came in here and he poured a drink, when I made to go to bed we had words" she explains.

"What words?" Donald almost shouts.

"I can't remember exactly, he said I looked good in the dress and I laughed. He said every man there wanted to be with me but I told him it wasn't possible, my own date didn't want me, something to that effect anyway" she says.

"What else, what else Keen?" Donald continues to stare at her, waiting again for her to explain.

"I went to walk upstairs but he stopped me. He was angry I could tell, but hell so was I." She says, holding back still.

"Keen, I swear to god if you don't level with me" Donald says stepping in. She doesn't exactly feel threatened more just a pressure but added to the existing ones it's enough.

"He kissed me. It was only for a few seconds. Then he said something about him having wanted to do it for a while. That was it, I went to bed and when I woke up he was gone" she says, panic welling in her.

"Well that must have been some fucking kiss" Ressler says.

"Yes because sarcasm that's just what we need right now!" She rages, the panic taking over.

"Calm down both of you" Meera says finally stepping in, she's been listening quietly all that time, analysing Lizzie, but she's now satisfied they've gotten the truth. "It's obvious he's gone, we just need to figure out where and why".