I received some pretty upbeat reviews for Half-Truths so I thought I'd continue with some more Lizzington. Totally digging it. I feel like every song I've listened to lately can relate to them. And I've been listening to an old country CD, so you know I've got it bad. I have OCD and they are an itch I can't scratch. Their relationship needs to be canonized or I'll go nuts.

I struggle with writing chapter fics because I gradually lose the excitement I get when beginning them. (Mostly due to school and work getting in the way.) But I'm going to finish this one. Likely just 3 chapters. The shorter, the easier for me to finish. Let's go! This takes place in S1E3.

Oh, and I also tend to just through-compose these without much editing or rereads so there may be mistakes. I don't particularly care. Well I mean, let me know if I didn't finish a sentence or something. That would suck.


Bad Business

Stepping into the radio station and pretending to be a hyper-techie was perhaps one of the most terrifying experiences of Elizabeth's life. Not only that, but she was walking into a practical death-trap with her only route out being a psychotic criminal whom she had assaulted not long ago. Someone she didn't trust to keep his word and certainly didn't trust with her life. Elizabeth's skin crawled as she was inspected for weapons and, on an unspoken level, for deceit. In this line of work, a small amount of deceit was implied-even expected-and she was wondered if there was some sort of device that could evaluate the radiation of anxiety, making sure she wasn't lying too much. Elizabeth was sure they knew.

Elizabeth wasn't a trained field agent. She was a profiler. She could come up with a profile of Wujing in seconds: his childhood was without family, being a second born child in a land where they weren't supposed to exist. He rebelled as a young adult in an attempt to gain attention, signal to someone that he belonged wherever he chose. And a family he did find. But he wouldn't just live among street thugs. No, he would become better. Better even than the brother born before him who eliminated Wujing's connection to his parents. And he did become better, smarter, more deserving of praise. The Chinese government relied on him now, they owed him favors and he wrung the system dry to take back what had been denied him. He likely gained paternal satisfaction when leading his team through difficult legal red tape. The team was important to him-something he probably would not admit the full extent of.

Elizabeth was damn good at profiling. Going under cover, not so much.

Red on the other hand was completely at ease. The stubborn security bulk's resistance to bending protocol might have frustrated him but Red simply found another way around. "So you went with the gray?" he asks the bulk, coming up with a slight distraction with no effort. Words naturally flowed out of him without misstep.

She was not comforted by his presence. What would stop Red from abandoning her if (she tried to avoid the idea of "when") they were caught? How simple would it be to leave her? "She is obviously compromised by the FBI. Do me a favor and get rid of her would you, Wujing?" No one would kill Raymond Reddington. But a miscalculation on her part could leave the new agent with a bullet in the head and no tears shed over the matter.

Elizabeth breathed in deep, counting to six very slowly.

Red pressed a hand to her back as he heard the air moving to and from her. She wished he would stay away and give her space to self-soothe. She didn't need him to remind her of the possibly disastrous situation.

As Red made criminal small talk, Elizabeth sat in front of the laptop and prayed that the device would work. All of the assurances in the world couldn't stop her heart's frantic beating. The pressure in her chest was growing. The screen filled with a cocktail of letters, numbers, and symbols that she'd be able to understand just as soon as she won the lottery.

Silence ensued and eyes turned to the screen. A name popped on it.

She ever so slowly released the breath she'd been holding captive in the back of her throat.

They had pulled it off.

And then everything went to shit.

Elizabeth's mind couldn't work fast enough. The scene unfolded before her just as confusing as the techno gibberish had appeared on the laptop. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to come up with something to remove the accusing eyes trained on her. Of course they had found out. People with computers found out everything.

When Wujing turned his attention on Jin Sun, this time she didn't let go of the relieved breath. She kept it inside, not allowing herself to think the danger had passed. Wujing raised the laptop above his head and Elizabeth thought she was about to see a man beat to death by the device that seemingly betrayed him.

"We have to do something," she said and took two steps forward. Red pulled her back easily.

"Quiet."

"We can't just let them do this."

Red was silent. He watched without interest. She hated him for it. The beaten man was innocent! Well, innocent of the supposed betrayal at least. Affiliating with and working for crime lords sort of tarnished your record. Did that mean Elizabeth was tarnished now?

Jin Sun squirmed on the concrete while fresh blood poured from his face. The sight made Elizabeth quiver, sickeningly grateful that it wasn't her.

And then Jin Sun saw it. The USB key to the mirroring program. The tiny black object that no one should have seen somehow came into the desperate man's field of vision. His brown, terrified eyes met hers. His mouth opened to point the blame. Her blood was about to join his. Both of their bodies would litter the ground.

Red had moved too fast for Elizabeth to stop him. The gun was in his hand before she could blink and the shots fired without a threat or care.

The gunshots echoed in her head. Elizabeth's jolted gasp swallowed the sounds and the taste of hot bullets in the air. It was a taste she wouldn't soon forget.

Red had killed a member of Wujing's team.

Shit, Red. Shit, shit, shit.

Wujing momentarily lost control as a subconscious thread was tugged on until it unwound the knitting that held his underground family together. Elizabeth saw a lifetime of resentment cross his features.

Wujing scrambled for a gun. The weight of danger returned. Elizabeth didn't want to cower behind him, but Red maintained a position slightly in front of her. Like a shield. He wasn't going to leave her, she realized. No matter what happened, no matter if a bullet came his way, Red wasn't going to let harm befall her. The realization settled over her like cool water and the fire lit on each of her nerves sizzled and was tamed.

"You kill one of my people," the armed man swayed on his feet slightly, "Now I have to kill one of yours." Perspiration dotted his brow.

"The moment he sent that message," Red began, moving subtly closer to Elizabeth, "He became worthless to you. You would have beaten him for another twenty minutes and killed him yourself. But if I let you kill a contractor of mine, I lose the trust of all my others and that's just bad business. So if you kill her, you better kill me." Red paused for three seconds the promise of death turned his gaze to razor-edged steel. "Or I'm going to kill you."

Elizabeth had forgotten rule number one of business: keep customers happy. Red would never abandon one of his contractors or clients. As he said, that was bad business. He would never have become the Concierge of Crime otherwise. She felt stupid for not trusting him to at least act as the puppet master he was.

For a few moments, Elizabeth felt cool to the touch. Calm. Steady. "You hired me to do a job. It's done. Now let's get out of here." Her voice didn't shake. She stared Wujing in the eye and felt nothing. The agent and the villain stood together with guns aimed at their vital organs. Both looked collected and in control. The balance of the room switched.

She swore she could feel Red smile behind the emotionless facade. His posture radiated pride. His "Lizzie" had learned something today after all.


The climb out of the compound made her legs ache. Not because she was unaccustomed to physical exertion, but because her muscles were tense the entire time. Her whole body would be sore tomorrow due to the stress-applied strain alone. The precious seconds of calm earlier evaporated as soon as she stepped around the corpse of Jin Sun. Blood clotted her sense of smell.

Red moved quickly but without fear. Again, he was at ease. Elizabeth realized he must have done this exact thing several times: escaping out of back doors, creating plans B-Z out of thin air and miraculously employing the correct one each time. For the first time, she was grateful he was there.

Jin Sun. Elizabeth quickly pushed his dying face out of her mind. For now, she was alive (so alive) and seconds away from regaining freedom.

Red repeated the gesture of placing his hand softly on her back. It felt like reassurance. A little push forward. Something that annoyed her thirty minutes ago now brought a small amount of peace. Red was there. Red had saved her. Red's smooth voice and electric mind had kept her alive. His plan B or Z or whatever meant she was still breathing and not buried below the earth.

A door opened.

The distant sound of cars and gentle pedestrian chatter contrasted with the noises previously contained in the small underground space where she heard the rustle of each person's movement and keyboard clatter.

The sun tingled on her face.

Red smiled.

A man was dead because of her.


You likey? You no likey? There's a little box down there somewhere that you can write in and tell me. Yah.