A/N Here is the final chapter of Sin. I have enjoyed writing this fic tremendously, and have been overwhelmed and inspired by the comments and conversations it has generated. Many thanks to you all. Also thanks to Fictional Addictions for the artwork that inspired the final part of this work. This chapter has everything you'd expect from this fic – Smut, angst, fluff. NSFW. You've been warned. For the last time, I don't own the characters but I so wish I did. Much love. NTD x

That night they had dinner together and retired to the sitting room. Red went to the kitchen to retrieve the Balvenie and two tumblers, but when he returned she had left the room. His stomach tightened slightly as he made his way upstairs to find her. As he suspected, the door of his bedroom was open and a warm glow from the lamp spilled out into the corridor. He stepped inside and saw her standing by the window staring out into the courtyard, the trees casting shadows on her reflection.

"Lizzie." His voice was low with a hint of a plea in it. He held out his hand to her, gesturing for her to follow him from the room.

When she didn't respond he walked slowly towards her, until both their reflections were visible in the dark glass. "Not here, sweetheart" he said quietly. "Not this room."

She caught his eye in the window pane and shook her head slowly. "I don't want to run away from the past anymore." She saw his eye twitch in the glass and continued to watch his face in the reflection as she slowly removed her top, followed by her bra, before sliding her jeans over her hips and down, pulling the right leg delicately over her swollen ankle. His eyes burned in the glass as he watched her hook her fingers into her panties and push them down to join the rest of her clothes on the floor. Her nipples hardened in anticipation as she saw him approach in the reflection, until he was close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck and the soft wool of his suit pants on her bare legs.

He brought his hands to rest on her shoulders, his palms warm against her skin, his eyes drinking in the reflection of her body in the window. "You are breath-taking." His voice was molten, the timbre sending exquisite tremors through her. When he spoke again he bent his head down, his lips brushing her ear. "Is this truly what you want, Lizzie? Because I won't…" He paused, shaking his head. "I can't let you go again."

At that she turned slowly to face him, the tips of her breasts brushing against his vest. Her eyes were wide and clear when they met his. "Do you love me?"

He looked down at her, the perfect little soul in front of him, his eyes almost black. "Yes" he said, his voice rough. "I love you sweetheart. It's as though that fire never went out. It's burned steady for thirty years, Lizzie" he said wistfully. "My sweet, darling girl." He took her hand and brushed his lips over her scar. Swallowing hard as he met her gaze again, he saw her nod slightly. She finally understood.

"This is what I want" she whispered. She pressed her lips to his as she spoke and he wrapped his arms around her, his fingers sliding into her hair. It began as a chaste kiss, but he could feel her, naked and quivering with need in his arms, and a surge of desire swelled inside him. He couldn't help but deepen the kiss, his hand holding the back of her head and his tongue penetrating her mouth as she parted her lips. He groaned as he felt her move her hips against him. Finally breaking the kiss, he pushed her gently down onto the window seat and sank to his knees in front of her, as though he were kneeling at an altar on which she was a sacred offering. Looking up at her, he ran his hands tantalisingly slowly up her legs, brushing his thumbs up the inside of her thighs and down again.

Bending his head, he eased her legs over his shoulders, kissing her inner thighs and allowing his teeth to graze her as he sucked the sensitive flesh. He relished her smell and the feel of her smooth, milky skin until he elicited small, delightful noises of anticipation from her and her head rolled against the window. Unable to resist further, he tugged her hips forward and brought his mouth to where she needed it, groaning in pleasure as she writhed in ecstasy beneath him. He felt her slender hand grip the back of his neck, holding him in place while he lathed her with his tongue, and the tight ache in his pants became almost unbearable. He looked up and saw her eyes squeezed shut as she teetered on the edge of oblivion. Slowly and deliberately he used two fingers to open her, sliding them carefully inside her, waiting for his moment.

"Look at me" he said breathlessly, his voice almost a purr -"Lizzie…look at me when you come." Circling her clit with his thumb, he moved his fingers inside her finding the sweet spot he knew she couldn't resist and her eyes flew open, the shocking blue dark with pleasure. She came with a shuddering moan the moment he twisted his fingers inside her and it was too much for him, the feel of her tightening around his fingers as she orgasmed, his aching cock rubbing against the seam of his pants as he moved his hips helplessly in time with his fingers - "Oh god, Lizzie…fuck…"

In her haze it occurred to her that she had never heard him properly swear before. "Are you alright?" she panted, and he laughed hard, shaking his head. "Well, I've ruined a fine pair of pants, but otherwise I'm glorious."

She looked at his smiling face and giggled, her cheeks turning even redder than they already were.

"Been a while, has it?" she said, teasingly. "Shall we pick this up tomorrow?"

A wicked smile crossed his face and before she knew it he had scooped her laughing and wriggling into his arms and placed her on the bed. "You little minx - I'm not nearly done with you."

She lay back against the pillows and watched breathlessly as he carefully removed his clothing and cleaned himself off before settling next to her on the bed, his large hands running over her body as though he was relearning every curve, every mark, every inch of her.

"Red?" she said tentatively. "How long has it been? Have you…"

He raised his eyes to look at her. "You can ask, Lizzie. You want to know whether I have been with anyone else since you." She nodded and his eyes softened. "The answer is no. After you…No."

"Oh." She looked down for a moment and he took her hand.

"But you have" he said gently. "Don't be embarrassed sweetheart."

"Only once" she said, meeting his eyes with difficulty. "It was awful. I missed you so much."

He frowned at that and then shook his head. "Lizzie that was no way for you to live" he said quietly. "You're a healthy young woman with needs and desires. I never wanted to prevent you from being happy."

"You sound like you wanted me to be with other men."

His eyes narrowed and she watched nervously as his lip twitched in distaste. "Never" he growled. "But above all else I want you to have the life you deserve. I'd sacrifice anything for that. To give you what you want."

She studied his face carefully. "Red…I need to ask you something." She felt him tense slightly, but persevered. "When Dembe arrived and found me at the house I wasn't sure if it was alright for me to be here. He said that it was as much my house as yours. He and Mr Kaplan – they acted like I was supposed to be here. What did he mean?"

Red sighed and pressed a gentle kiss onto her temple. "A number of my properties are in your name as well as mine. Or one of my aliases." She raised her head immediately to respond but he squeezed her arm reassuringly and continued. "It has nothing to do with how our relationship has progressed. It's been this way for some time. Since long before we became intimate."

She turned on her side to face him. "I don't understand. Why?"

He smiled at her sadly and continued to gently stroke the curve of her hip and thighs. "I suppose, during my darkest times, it brought me some comfort to give you things. Whether it was college tuition, or a house I imagined you might like. Even if you didn't know I had done it. Even if you didn't know I was there at all. This house… the way the light flickered through the trees… it made me think of you. My light."

She curled into his side, her thigh resting on his and her head tucked into his shoulder. "I don't know how you can still see me that way. After the terrible things I've done."

She heard him sigh, his breath ruffling her hair as he raised his hand to her chin, tilting her face up to meet his eyes. "People are like stained-glass windows. They shine when the sun is out. But when the darkness comes, their true beauty only shows if there is a light within. Lizzie, you shine like a beacon in the night."

She smiled and raised her eyebrows. "What's that, another fortune cookie?"

He shook his head. "Another Elizabeth. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. A very wise woman who clearly foresaw your beauty… your strength…your tenacity…" As he spoke he kissed her forehead, then her cheek, and finally her mouth, before rolling her onto her back, his body covering hers. She gasped as she felt him hard and thick, pressed against her, and arched up to meet him as he began to suckle her swollen nipples, one then the other, while his hand slid down between her legs.

"Impressive" she breathed.

His eyes glinted wickedly as he positioned himself at her entrance. Easing into her until he was fully sheathed, he smiled while she struggled to control her cries as he began to move inside her.

"Oh sweetheart…you have no idea."

~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~

Weeks passed and the brown leaves in Frederick's garden vacated the trees, the mild fall giving way to crisp air and bare branches. Their days were mostly spent working in earnest on Red's cases. Liz enjoyed catching him up on the work she had done in his absence, both for the intellectual exchange it afforded and, she had to admit, for the look of pure admiration and respect she saw on his face when she presented profiles of cartels and pointed out links between cases. Dembe often joined them for a briefing, before leaving to run operations in Africa and India, armed with the information and plans cooked up by his employer and his beautiful partner.

Whilst their days were spent hard at work, their nights were spent in luxury. As the weather turned cold, Red began to expertly lay wood fires in the hearth, the flickering flame casting warm shadows on the walls and illuminating his golden eyelashes. The first time they made love in front of the fire was a profound moment for both of them, the crackling of the flames and smell of wood smoke conjuring difficult memories that they determinedly remade with their bodies. Nothing about them was simple, or ordinary, they reasoned. Every memory, every scar, every judgement cast at them by others or by themselves, they absorbed it all, laughing, making love, and making amends.

As December dawned, Liz began to feel uneasy. Of all the things they had discussed, the future wasn't one of them, and she became more and more aware that the sabbatical she had taken from the college was ending. It was time to make a decision. She had also noticed that Dembe's visits had become more frequent, and other members of Red's team had also put in appearances. Much as she enjoyed Dembe's company, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was brewing that she wasn't privy to. She didn't have to wait long to find out.

Dembe arrived one afternoon and he and Red disappeared into the living room, closing the door behind them. After an hour, she steeled herself and entered. As she stepped into the room both men turned to face her, their conversation coming to an abrupt stop. She stood with her hand on the door, a gnawing feeling of apprehension building in her stomach.

"Red?"

He looked at her, his expression unreadable, before turning to Dembe and putting his hand on his arm. "Give us a moment, my friend."

Dembe nodded and left the room, briefly placing his hand gently on Liz's shoulder as he walked past her. She looked back to Red who had moved to the window, his hand resting on the frame and his gaze directed out over the grounds. She swallowed and walked slowly to him. "What's going on?"

He worked his jaw and turned to face her. "Elizabeth I need to go away for a while. There's been a development in the Nigeria case we've been working on. Dembe received confirmation today that the cartel is moving their operation in a matter of weeks. We need to act quickly or they'll slip through our fingers."

Her face fell and he put his hand gently on her arm. "Sweetheart, this isn't something I can leave to my people. I need to be there for this one. They have managed long enough without me."

She swallowed. "Are you even well enough to travel to Africa?" she whispered.

He nodded gently. "I'm probably stronger than I was before I was before the cabal's little assassination attempt."

"I see" she said, stepping back from him. "You've recovered. And now you're leaving me." She felt sick to her stomach.

"No!" he exclaimed. "No Lizzie, never that. I treasure this life with you. But we can't hide from the world the rest of our lives. You have a career. I can't keep you from that. I promise I will return as soon as possible, and we will find a way to make this work."

Liz planted her feet squarely and folded her arms. He was making plans and decisions without her, again, and she felt a horribly familiar frustration at being made to feel like a child. Well not this time, she thought. She looked him in the eye defiantly.

"I'm coming with you."

She watched her statement register on his face as he frowned. He said nothing, so she gathered herself and continued. "You said yourself that I have been instrumental in the work that you're doing, that you couldn't have done it without me. And I was a trained field agent - I can handle myself. Why shouldn't I come with you?"

The corner of his mouth twitched and he studied her for a moment. "Lizzie… the work you have done has been extraordinary. And believe me I know what you're capable of as a field agent. But just because you are capable, that doesn't make it right for you." He shook his head and smiled sadly at her. "I will not put you in harm's way ever again. This isn't the life for you, sweetheart."

She set her jaw firmly. "It seems to me I'm already living this life, Red. And I'm finally happy."

His eyes widened a fraction and she couldn't tell if it was wonder or fear she saw in his gaze. Whichever it was, she could feel herself gaining ground. He shifted uncomfortably and went to sit down on the sofa, putting some distance between them. He drummed his fingers on the back of the sofa for a moment before meeting her eye again.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. You are still Annabelle Lasseter and she can't travel with a notorious criminal. You're a college teacher on sabbatical – you can't turn up helping me broker deals in Africa."

Liz raised an eyebrow. "I haven't been Annabelle in a while. In fact, I don't think I ever was."

He smiled at her sadly and spoke softly, as though breaking bad news. "As much as you are Elizabeth Keen, you have to know that identity is no longer viable. It's too high profile. Too dangerous. Travelling with me as Elizabeth Keen would raise questions for the authorities as well as for our enemies, who remain manifold."

"Actually I don't feel like Elizabeth Keen either anymore. I felt like it was my right to own that name, but it belongs to my past. I need an identity that acknowledges who I am now. That acknowledges how I feel and the future I want."

Her heart began pumping blood harder and harder until she could hear it in her ears as she realized what she was about to do. He was completely still now, his eyes wide and fixed on her and his shoulders tense. She stood tall and took a deep breath.

"Elizabeth Reddington. Scott-Reddington. That's who I want to be."

~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~BL~

Liz watched from the window of the Mercedes as it drew up the formidable mountain scape of Lombardy, the Italian winter dotting frost over the grass even as the sun set over the mountain and village below. As she exited the car, the last of the sun danced on the ring of her left hand. It was a plain, platinum band with three rare dark sapphires; one, he had said, for the fire that united them, one for their reunion twenty-seven years later, and one for the future that they would share. The chapel was beautiful in daylight, but as the evening drew in it looked ethereal on the mountainside, the candle light from inside shining through the stained glass like a beacon in the winter mist.

She didn't need a ring, or a church wedding, she had said. She just wanted to be with him. They couldn't afford to delay their travel to Africa. Yet he had insisted – even if their honeymoon would be most unconventional, involving unfavorable climates and dangerous, illegal activities – that their wedding would be something they could treasure. He knew of a chapel, he had said, hidden in the mountains in a place of true peace and beauty.

As she looked around her, she knew that he had understood what she needed. She needed him, but she also needed a rite of passage, an occasion on which her true friends could acknowledge who she had become. Dembe stood beside the car with a gentle smile, and Mr Kaplan was already inside the chapel, along with Aram and Samar, who had expressed genuine joy (if not surprise) at the news of Red and Liz's nuptials. It was best, they had decided, that Ressler be kept in the dark for the time being. He would never really trust her again after Connolly, and her marriage to Reddington would only cement his suspicions, she thought sadly.

She could see Red standing down the steps from the chapel, alone, staring over the mountain scene. Telling Dembe she would come into the chapel momentarily, she picked up the hem of her dress and walked across the grass to where Red was standing. He leant on the stone balcony in the grounds of the chapel, his rich, dark suit off-set by a dark blue silk tie that reflected in her eyes as she reached him. He swallowed as he turned to face her, unable to find any words adequate to tell her how beautiful she was. Her dress was deepest red – the color of healed wounds – the brushed silk swathing her body like a dark caress against her pale skin. Her dark hair was twisted into loosely pinned curls, and she carried a small bouquet of wild flowers, prepared by a local florist friend of Red's.

He tilted his head to the side and smiled softly. "I can't describe how beautiful you are, nor would I try if I could. Henry James said that of the lakes in these mountains. That's how I feel when I look at you."

Liz's cheeks colored a little at his words, and she sighed happily, her breath visible in the cool air. His expression turned serious then and he clasped his hands together tightly. "Lizzie… You are about to give yourself to me. To this life we're about to embark on. And I can't pretend that this is what I wanted for you. I need you to know that it's not too late. If you feel unsure… You could choose any life you want. And I would make it happen."

She stepped closer to him, her piercing blue eyes looking up at him from under dark lashes. "I know you would. Even if it killed you to do it." He nodded almost imperceptibly and she gently raised her hand to his cheek, her expression set with the stubbornness he had grown to know so well. "Raymond… this is the life I choose. I am here because I love you. It's time for you to accept that."

He drew himself up then, squaring his shoulders, a smile forming on his lips.

"Well then, Lizzie. It seems to me that you and I have been living in sin, in so many ways, for so long. Are you ready to start something new?"

He extended his hand to her and she clasped her fingers in his, smiling up at him, her face open and determined. "I am."

They turned and walked together up the stone stairs, over the threshold of the chapel and into their future, the candle light in the windows shining out into the night.

The End.