AN: Just something quick inspired by screenshots from S2 promos going around. Probably not really all that spoilerish in the end, but fair warning.


Liz tightened her grip on her gun and peered through the peephole in the hotel room door. She swore under her breath and wrenched the door open before Dembe could finish picking the lock. Red moved past him into the room as if she hadn't, gun drawn. She raised her own gun in response, keeping it level with the center of his chest.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, breaking into my room? That's a good way to get yourself shot!"

"Opening your door in nothing but a bra and panties isn't much better. You can't expect everyone to fall to their knees in front of you based on your…"—he raked his gaze along her body—"considerable charms alone."

"No, of course not. That's what the gun is for."

Neither Red nor Liz lowered their weapon as they stared each other down.

"Dembe, will you excuse us for a moment? I'm sure Hudson could use some fresh air, or whatever passes for it around here."

Liz rolled her eyes when Dembe complied with little more than a wary look aimed at the two of them. She turned away, purposely ignoring the gun still trained on her to pull her jeans on roughly; when she turned around again, she expected to come face to face with a very perturbed Red, but was momentarily taken aback when she found him kneeling at her feet instead.

He laid his gun on the bed and took off his hat before he reached up to button her jeans and zip her fly, rubbing his hands down her hips to her thighs in a lingering caress when he finished. She ran a hand up his neck and along his jaw, tilting his head back to make sure he maintained eye contact.

"You can't expect me to forgive you every time you fall to your knees in front of me."

"Mmm, but I do so enjoy looking up and seeing your shining face. Can I tell you how flattered I am to discover I'm not the only one?" He nodded towards the hodgepodge of photographs and documents she had pinned to the ceiling over the bed, in which he played a prominent role. For the first time since he burst into the room, embarrassment and self-consciousness flooded her veins and she felt herself flush.

His eyes followed the blush as it worked its way down her chest. He slid his hands back up her legs, splaying his fingers across the small of her back to pull himself closer; his mouth was mere millimeters from her skin, his breaths stirring the downy hairs on her torso, when she dug her fingers into his shoulders to stop him.

"We've talked about this, Red. Nothing above the belt, not without a little reciprocation. You have a problem being shirtless, fine—but if you keep trying to cheat like this, I'm going to find a way to return the favor."

She shoved him away; he caught himself before he could lose balance and perched on the foot of the bed. He watched her finish dressing with a hint of a smirk curving his lips. "Remind me to find a reason for us to go undercover at a certain club I used to frequent as soon as possible. I think you'd enjoy it."

"I'm not going to a sex club with you."

"It's not a sex club per se, but it's nearly as enjoyable. It would give you an opportunity to treat me publicly how you do behind closed doors, without the need for excuses or subterfuge." He stood and began to cross the small room with deliberate slowness; she tried to ignore him while she buttoned her blouse. "Believe me, it can be very… fulfilling."

She glanced up and met his eyes in the mirror. "You're insufferable."

"Insufferable, maybe. Incorrigible, definitely." He pulled her to him by the hips. "This doesn't break any rules, does it? Everything is very much aboveboard and below-the-belt."

"Perhaps we don't need that club after all," he whispered, his cheek against hers and his lips at her ear.

She turned in his arms and walked him back towards the bed, pushing him down onto it and crawling up after to straddle him. He leaned up at the waist, intent on her mouth, but she pressed him back into the mattress.

"One of these days you will let me kiss you," he said, straining against the hand on his chest.

"Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart."