I own nothing; I will never own anything, blah, blah, blah. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

It was Elizabeth's first weekend off in ages, and it said a lot about her state of mind that she was willing to spend it painting her dining room. She had been sure that she would change her mind at the last minute and spend that weekend lounging around in front of the television with Hudson, but when Saturday rolled around she found herself more determined than ever to commence with the change in her life.

The trip to the Home Depot had been almost comical. It wasn't a place that she frequented, so quite a bit of help was necessary to get her what she needed. She grabbed the first available associate, a boy that couldn't have been more than seventeen, and followed him around the store for half an hour, nodding as he explained what all of the brushes and tools he was throwing into her cart were for. He led her to the paint where he made a few helpful suggestions of beiges and soft yellows. Elizabeth felt more surprised than the boy looked when she grabbed a deep red swatch and asked him to help her find that color.

Preparing to paint the dining room turned out to be a real pain in the ass. The dining room table was heavier than it looked, but Elizabeth managed to haul it into the living room. It took a good half hour before the tarp was laid and the edges of the wall were taped, and she was already exhausted. The actual painting wasn't so bad. She had thrown on a pair of black yoga pants and a white t-shirt and thrown her hair up into a ponytail, so she wasn't worried about dirtying herself up, which ended up being a good thing because she had put a big smudge of red paint on her shirt within the first five minutes. She had expected Hudson to be a problem, but he was being a perfect angel, content to lay on the tarp and watch her work.

It wasn't until Elizabeth was in the middle of the first wall that the nauseous feeling hit her. Dizziness followed soon after, and she slowly lowered herself to the floor. She wondered briefly if she wasn't quite over the stomach flu, but that wasn't possible. It was probably the pain fumes anyway. The nauseous feeling was almost completely gone when she heard the doorbell ring. She moved slowly toward the front door, not wanting to chance a relapse, and eased it open.

"Lizzie! You look… pale."

Just what she needed. Raymond Reddington and an armful of… Chinese… The nausea returned full force and she barely made it to the toilet before throwing that morning's breakfast up into it. She hung her head over the porcelain and cringed when she heard the water running in the sink. She wanted so badly to tell Red to go away, but the cold, damp cloth that he placed at the back of her neck felt so good that she couldn't bring herself to protest.

"You know… you really should open a window or two before you paint a room. I could smell the fumes as soon as you opened the door. Makes me feel a little light-headed myself. Here, you get cleaned up and I'll start airing this place out."

He placed the cloth in her hand and left her to herself. How embarrassing. She didn't have the good sense to crack a window and she had tossed her cookies in front of Red. It was shaping up to be a marvelous Saturday.

It was tempting to just sit on the bathroom floor until the end of time, but Elizabeth finally forced herself to get up and face Red like a big girl. When she reached the dining room she was surprised to see that he had shed his jacket and vest and was rolling up the sleeves of his pristine white shirt.

"Interesting choice of color for a dining room. I'm sensing an identity crisis, Lizzie. Should I be worried?"

Raymond Reddington was stripping in her dining room. If anything, SHE was the one who needed to be worried.

"What are you doing here, Red? You NEVER come to my house."

Red's expression was smug for a moment before he schooled it back to a more innocent one.

"Well I was just in the neighborhood when I passed by this lovely little Chinese place and immediately thought of you. Normally I wouldn't dream of setting foot here, but since Tom hasn't been home in over a week, I figured it was safe."

So that was what he wanted.

"Well you obviously know what's happened. So help me… if you're here to gloat…"

"Actually, I don't know what happened. I was trying to give you time to work out whatever you needed to work out, but my patience is running thin."

HIS patience was running thin?

"And what made you think that I would just tell you something that, quite frankly, is none of your business?"

"Because… who else do you have to talk to?"

That was true. Hurtful, but true. She was too embarrassed to call any of the few friends she did have. Besides, most of them were Tom's friends first. They would probably just take his side. She wondered what he was telling people about the split. She looked down at her wedding rings and considered chucking them out the window. After all, what did she need them for? They were nothing but a constant reminder of the biggest failure of her life. But… they did keep the questions at bay at work. When she looked back up, she saw that Red had moved to stand in front of her, and was also staring at her rings.

"I apologize… that was out of line."

"No. You're right. You're always right."

That brought a small smile to Red's face.

"That may be so, but maybe sometimes I should just keep it to myself."

Like that would ever happen.

"I should have listened to you from the beginning. Tom really wasn't who I thought he was."

Whew. It was the first time that she had admitted that out loud, and it sounded strange to her ears. Red, however, didn't seem to think it was so strange. He seemed relieved somehow… relaxed, even. She hadn't even realized that Red had been tense. He sat down on her dining room floor and patted the space beside him. Alright, then. She moved to sit beside him and Hudson moved to sit beside her. What a picture they must have made…

"So what did St. Thomas do that made you see the light?"

Saint Thomas. She would have to remember that one.

"He dumped me. For another woman. On Valentine's Day."

Red grimaced in sympathy.

"Oh Lizzie… I'm so sorry. What an ass. If it makes you feel any better, I didn't have a great Valentine's Day either."

"Really?"

"Yeah… Dembe's great and all, but he's not much of a cuddler."

Elizabeth giggled and bumped his shoulder.

"And yet, it still didn't suck as bad as mine."

"Was that all it was? Him cheating on you?"

Was that all it was? Was he serious?

"Isn't that enough?"

Red shrugged.

"For some people. What's important to you may not be as important to others. Always remember that, Lizzie. As for Tom, now that you aren't as convinced of his infallibility, are you willing to consider that maybe he's capable of more than just infidelity? Maybe something much worse? Maybe even murder?"

Elizabeth had already considered it, on numerous occasions. Even before Tom left, she would lie in bed at night and pore over the Angel Station case in her mind. She knew she was missing something, but was never able to put her finger on what… And then there was the box. She had convinced herself for so long that Red had planted the evidence in her house, but even she knew that it didn't make sense. Those photos on the passports… they weren't candids. They were posed. Tom had posed for them. Elizabeth tucked her knee up under her chin and rested her head on it.

"I know he's guilty of something… but I don't know what."

Red nodded slightly then started to get to his feet. Elizabeth felt herself reach out to stop him.

"Could you have dealt with it? It wasn't always going to be like that. I wasn't always going to be home late. I wasn't always going to have to work weekends and drop everything whenever the FBI called. I promised and I meant it… it wasn't always going to be like that. Could you have stuck it out?"

Instead of dropping back down beside her, Red dropped to one knee in front of her. His hand found hers and gripped it tightly.

"I would have dealt with anything and everything you could have thrown at me. Being with you was an honor and a privilege that Tom didn't deserve. So yes… for you, I could have stuck it out. Lunch?"

"What?"

"I did bring lunch, and if you're feeling better I think we should eat it."

"Umm… yeah… sure. I'm sure I could hold something down by now."

Red pulled her to her feet and steered her to the kitchen. While she normally would have pulled away, she was glad he kept his hand on her back. It was the only thing keeping her on balance. However mysterious her husband may have been, he was an open book compared to Red. There were times when she felt like she was being used, but there were other times when she felt just as important to Red as he claimed she was. She wished she knew which feeling to trust, and there was a possibility that she would never find out for sure what was real and what was complete bull.

They ate in companionable silence, and Elizabeth was pleased that she was able to keep food down. It was embarrassing enough to have vomited in front of Red once, but twice would have been unbearable. When they finished their food, Red began to straighten up the kitchen, whistling a tune she couldn't place. She took Hudson outside while he finished up, and when she returned she found him propped up against her counter, waiting.

"Thanks for lunch… I really appreciate it."

Well… what else was she supposed to say?

"You're very welcome. Besides… now you owe me a meal. I like it when people owe me things."

Red shrugged as if he hadn't just said the most self-centered thing Elizabeth had ever heard.

"Well aren't you sweet?"

Red made a face like he was actually considering her sarcastic question, then he nodded.

"Sweet pretty much sums me up."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes as Red made his way toward the dining room.

"What are you doing?"

"Painting. I want you to owe me big."