A/N: This chapter may be slow, but there's backstory. And as much as I would like to get to the action, I really seem to have trouble steering the story to where I want it to go rather than where my muse wants it to go. Any other writers agree, or am I insane. It could be either, quite honestly ;) Thank You for taking the time to read!

When she finally collapsed on top of him, there was not a coherent thought in either of their heads. All she was getting from Red was pure, unadulterated bliss.

The caring and affection flowing between them was surprising.

As if they had been together forever.

She was getting chilly. As soon as the thought entered her head, Red was reaching behind him to pull a throw off the back of the sofa.

There are many benefits to their connection, she thought with a smile.

Raymond Reddington had been with countless women over the years, he had been on every single continent in the world, but had yet to experience the thrilling passion that he and Lizzie just shared.

It wasn't that it was hanging-from-the-chandelier crazy.

He'd been there, done that, and had the pulled muscles, bites, and scratch marks to prove it,

This. This was a roaring fire after being stuck in the cold.

A drink of water after wandering the desert for days.

The first gasp of air when you thought you were drowning.

They were exhausted.

But he could see everything so clearly now.

Her thoughts were already in his head as soon as she thought them. There was no lag time, no concentrating to get it right.

Maybe it was because he was, quite literally inside of her still. He just hoped it would stay this way.

Her previous mental exhaustion at their practicing would hopefully be a thing of the past.

He hated to see her struggle, to doubt herself and her abilities.

She was extraordinary.

He loved her. But how was he to keep if from her. What kind of a crazy person will she think he is, if he thinks, or god forbid actually speaks it out loud, after only knowing her in person for a matter of days?

They showered, they practiced, and he even suggested they play a game of chess. Their whole day was spent getting to know each other.

They hardly spoke the whole day.

It wasn't needed.

As long as they were touching, she didn't have to concentrate on sending him any messages. He could clearly read her, just as well as she could him. Unexplainable, but wonderful.

It just was, and it was freeing. She didn't have to worry about saying something awkward or trying to figure out conversation pieces.

Red's thoughts were so considerate. He was so intelligent, been to so many places.

She was delighted to learn that they had the same taste in books, art, and food.

They tried to play chess, but she kept cheating by touching him to find out what his next moves were going to be.

He was amused and indulgent of her tactics.

She was in awe of how his mind was already 5 moves ahead from the current one in play.

It was the same with life, it seems. He was constantly planning and plotting.

Even while totally attentive of her and her needs, he was thinking of what they needed to do next.

She did find out something new.

She was the key to the fulcrum.

He blocked those parts of his thoughts as soon as she started to inquire as to how she was the key.

He refused to speak or think of it, citing that they had plenty of time and more pressing matters to attend to.

Their meeting was coming up in two days.

She knew her role. She wouldn't speak, only introduce herself and shake their mark's hand.

Then, she would convey what she found to Red by holding his hand.

They had to switch their original plan from business associates to lovers.

Any fool would know how close they are, just by watching them exist in the same room.

No one would ever know about their link.

Red was afraid of their link and what it could mean. He was terrified of what would happen to her should anyone ever find out.

His bodyguard knew.

Dembe was nice. He always smiled and was extremely polite.

He didn't talk much.

He didn't offer to shake his hand, but when she held hers out, he shook it softly as if he were afraid of hurting her.

She wishes that she never shook his hand. There was a reason for his reluctance.

Memories that horrible were not to be shared, but she couldn't help it.

Dembe was a good man with unflinching integrity. He loved Red. They were more than brothers.

Dembe's emotional grid was so…nice. He was so loyal, so good. She doesn't know why his past flashed to her like they did.

But they did. When she flinched away as if struck, Dembe apologized profusely while Red took her hand.

He wasn't fooling her. His thoughts of waterfalls, jungle landscapes were meant to calm her, take her mind off of the horrible images of abuse and torture.

She would never forget though. How she wished she could.

Her heart broke for the little boy that had his innocence stolen from him in such an abominable way.

Her smile was a little watery, but no less genuine for the tears swimming in her eyes. "Dembe, it is wonderful to finally meet you officially. I hope that we will be great friends."

Dembe's perfect, wide smile was all the reply she needed.

They were eating dinner the evening before their meeting. A hearty meal of steak, roasted baby red potatoes, and sautéed asparagus.

They eschewed the formal dining room for a more intimate dinner. Sitting around the table, they were quietly talking about the weather for tomorrow, the meeting location, and what could be expected.

"He will have men accompanying him. Men with guns. Just remember, we have people that you won't even see watching our backs. Just hold my hand. You will need to let go of me when you shake his hand. We don't know what will happen if you are touching 2 people at once. Because it is an unknown, we won't even attempt it at this point." Red was adamant that she be prepared. His worry was quite endearing.

He forgets, that although she may not be on par with Raymond Reddington, she has been operating outside of the law for most of her teenage years and all of her adult life.

After dinner, they moved to their chess game. No touching allowed, she thought with a grin.

She was going to ask Red to sleep with him. They had made love, but they hadn't shared a bed.

Red stated that he wanted her to feel more comfortable with him, but she thinks it's because it's another unknown. If they touch through the night, he won't be able to guard his thoughts.

He's afraid of scaring her away still.

"Red, I'm tired. I think I'd like to go to bed early." So very studious, he stood "Of course, we have a long day tomorrow and I'd like to stop and shop for new clothing for you. We just have the few outfits and you should really see my tailor."

He was rambling, nervous. She must have thought about sleeping with him earlier on accident.

"I'd like to sleep…with you, if that's ok. I certainly don't want to intrude, but I do feel…anxious at night."

She could tell he was torn between wanting to ease her discomfort and trying not to offend her.

"Red, don't feel like you have to say yes. I can tell you are uncomfortable."

"Lizzie, it's not the thought of sleeping with you at all. Nothing would make me happier. I do have…nightmares on occasion and wouldn't wish to accidentally project them to you if we happen to be touching at that time."

"Red, it will be fine. We don't even know if I'll be able to read you while I'm sleeping. Chances are not, as I've never had it happen before."

"Lizzie, you need to breathe sweetheart. It will be fine. You can sleep with me. As for the nightmares, I suppose we will cross that bridge when we get to it."

He was frowning, but when she gave him a hug, all he felt was worry for her…and love.

Tbc…

A/N: Ugh. Too mushy? I tried to not make it so, but it just loses the organic quality and seems forced. I can't have that,lol. Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think.