He hasn't seen her since that night. The knocking. The red dress. The waltz. Hasn't seen her, hasn't called her. Hasn't known what to say. Hasn't wanted to think about the things that feel.
But the Blacklist always beckons, and tonight they set out together again.
He tells her it's all about the gathering of information. The procurement of essential data. The means to an end.
A party. A hotel. A man. Information left unguarded in an empty suite.
"It's simple really, Lizzie. It's already all in play. As long as he is distracted, everything will just fall into place", Red says.
"And how do we go about distracting him?" she asks.
"Let me assure you, by we I mean you, and I would assume that your just being Elizabeth Keen is distraction enough." Red responds. Then walks away.
Xxx
She stood along the wall, just beyond the bar. Stared across the room like she was bored. Drummed her fingers on the smooth wood of the high top and glanced down to check her watch, a slender bejeweled marvel that was a prop for the evening, a gift from Red.
She saw him before he saw her. Stiff suit. Tie askew. Recognized his countenance from the photos in the file. Tall, but not as strong as Red. An air of importance, but without the last measure of confidence.
She adjusted her dress. Let is slide a little lower. Fought the urge to pull it back up.
Red was nowhere in sight.
The man approached her casually while on a steady track. Stood on the other side of the table for a moment before striking up a conversation. The music, the wine, would she like another drink?
"A drink for a beautiful lady?" A grin that almost leered but didn't. "May I have a dance?"
There wasn't so much a dance floor as an open space where people were moving to the music. Couples, holding each other close and murmuring. Thoughts. Observations. He led Liz over to an open spot farther across the room.
She sighed and thought of the intel that was surely being gathered as they brought their bodies closer together. He sighed and thought of what he might do with so lovely a lady as he had been lucky enough to encounter tonight. And so willing. And so young. He moved closer.
Having exited the elevator, Red entered the bar.
Red sees her across the room. Sees the dress turning around her graceful body. Sees the way her dark hair cascades down her bare shoulder. Sees the way she turns, just a heartbeat off the music, waiting for her partner to lead her into the next step. And from his position next to the heavy mahogany bar he can't steal his gaze away from her.
"Tonight's conquest Raymond?" The patron to his right leans over and follows Red's gaze. Red makes no sound in return, continues to stare across the room.
He sees the man's arm reach a little farther around Liz's back. Sees the man flex his long fingers before settling them on the smooth fabric of her dress. Sees her startle and move a little bit away before closer to him.
"She's a real piece of work isn't she Red? Can't say I would have pegged her for Duncan's type, but he does have an eye for the, shall we say, good performers, am I wrong?" Silence from Red, nothing more.
He sees the man drop his head down towards Liz's exposed neck. The scent of Liz, all vanilla and deep, overwhelms Red's senses despite their lack of proximity. Sees the man smile, a foreboding smile, full of things.
He sees the man's hands move again. First up. Then down. On the small of her back now. The delicate concavity that's hard for Red to resist. Then his hands move again. Lower this time. Red straightens. And a little bit lower. And in this complicated game of charades, and role play, and endgames, his hand is real and Liz is real, and…too many thoughts. Red begins to rise.
Red makes eye contact with the man. Doesn't move now from his standing position at the bar. Stares at him with cold eyes that do not match his placid expression. Sees the man tip his chin up and then down. So slightly. An acknowledgement. Of Red? Of luck? Of Liz?
The string quartet in the corner begins another song. Slower. Peaceful. A little melancholy.
He moves his head down now. Towards her face. Towards her lips. Liz tries to pull away. Imperceptible to anyone in the room. Imperceptible to her dance partner. Imperceptible to everyone but Red.
The game clock ticks on. Just minutes to go. And it will all be over. Intel gathered. Dancing done. Evening closed.
But Red can't do it. Can't stand there and watch. Doesn't care to analyze why. Shutting down reason. Feeling. He makes his way across the room. Slowly but with purpose. Finds Liz. Finds the man. Leans in. Red's arm already around her waist. Red pulling her to back to his side. Pulling her from the room.
The words left unspoken. She's mine.