Disclaimer: I do not own The Blacklist, nor do I own the amazing artwork of Richard Blunt, the artist who drew the picture that inspired this one-shot. He's AMAZING. Go look him up! And maybe you can find the picture that inspired this… you're going to want to see it. And a huge thank you to my beta amybr10. She was so helpful!

The Dance

"I look like a slut!" Lizzie called through her bedroom door in their current "house". She had been with him since the day that she killed Tom, moving with him a total of twelve times in six months. It was easy though, as all of the places they stayed were furnished, all they had to do was pack up their clothes and move. The dress she found herself wearing now though, was a new one that Red had bought her for their undercover mission that night. Red was being himself, she was being his newly acquired "girlfriend", and, according to Red, their affair was to be a very sexual one. Something that her FBI brain wasn't too thrilled about but that her womanly one was.

"I doubt that, sweetheart," came his reply.

She opened the door and his breath immediately left him. She stood before him in a beautiful floor length red gown that had a slit up to her hip. The dress was strapless and she had left her hair down in soft waves flowing down her back. It took everything in him not to slide his fingers into her hair and pull her lips to his.

Lizzie, for her part, immediately became enraptured by the sight of him. He wore his dark grey suit. It was so dark it almost looked black but if you got close enough, you could see that it wasn't. He wore a crisp white shirt and a dark grey tie. The only thing he didn't have on was his jacket. "I think you look ravishing." His words brought her back from her thoughts and her eyes snapped right back to his.

"Isn't that the point?"

"Darling, listen to me." As he approached her the musky scent of him filled her nose and she couldn't help but lean into his touch as his hand cradled her cheek. "What a woman wears does not make her a slut. How she acts does, and sweetheart, you act the exact opposite of one. You take great care in who you give your heart to and only to those you trust do you give your body. You won't be flirting with other men tonight. It will just be you and me, romantically anyway. People will just think you dressed up for me."

"I did," came her breathless whisper and his heart stopped. She realized her mistake when his eyes turned dark with desire. That scared her. It wasn't as if she believed he would take advantage of her. She was just afraid of her own feelings when faced with the reality of Red wanting her. "I-I-I mean you bought me the dress and this undercover mission is for your Blacklist and so I guess that means that I d-dressed up for y-you." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, forcing her to close her eyes at the tenderness in his lips.

"Of course." He pulled away from her and stood to her side. "Shall we?"

"Oh wait! My shoes!" Red chuckled as she ran back into her room to grab them. He loved that she lived with him. They had grown quite domestic, believe it or not. They ate breakfast together each morning and when they were both in town they waited for the other to come home for a nightcap before going to bed. Add that to the fact that he could better keep his eye on her and keep her safer at night, the only thing that could make it better would be a romantic relationship with the woman he most adored. "Ok, I have my shoes, my purse, everything I need. What about your jacket?"

"For a jazz club? Come now, Lizzie. And you won't be needing this." He plucked her purse out of his hand. "If it's not there you won't worry about leaving it at the table and we can enjoy our dancing."

"Dancing?" he chuckled as he led her out to the car and they slid in.

"Once again, sweetheart, jazz club… what else did you think we would be doing?"

"Listening to music?"

"You are quite charming." He kissed her cheek and she blushed, glad that it was too dark for him to see. What was up with him? First the cheek cradling, then the kiss on the forehead, and now her cheek? "Don't forget, Jamison loves a good couple and the sexier they are together the more he's willing to open up. He's quiet the voyeur. Are you sure you're going to be ok with that?" His eyes looked deep within hers and he could see the wheels turning in her head. Oh to be able to read her thoughts. Suddenly, he grew worried as a wicked grin grew across her mouth.

She leaned forward and kissed his lips. "Of course, darling," she mewled as she slid her hand over his mid-thigh, letting her fingers rest on the inside of his leg.

"Liz-"he began to growl before Dembe cut him off.

"We are here, sir." The bodyguard got out of the car and opened the door. Red got out first and then turned to give Liz a hand out.

As they walked toward a bouncer at the door of the club, Red's hand slid from its normal place on the small of her back to the curve of her ass, drawing a gasp from her. "Two can play at that game, sweetheart," he breathed into her ear before placing a kiss behind it. Finally, they reached the bouncer. "Raymond Reddington and girlfriend. Jamieson is expecting us."

"Of course, Mr. Reddington. Just go in and have a seat, dance, drink. Mr. Rowley will be with you in a little while. He has some business to take care of first."

"Yes, of course, thank you." He led her into the club, his hand having slid back up to her lower back. The club was small and intimate. The walls brown and earthy. There was little light, most of it focused on the stage where the soft jazz music drifted from. The tables were small, looking as if most of them could only fit three members comfortably. They all had white table cloths and two small candles burning in small glasses on them. The atmosphere exuded romance and sexual tension. Lizzie loved it.

"It's beautiful," came out of her mouth before she could control it and she smiled shyly at him.

"I'm glad that you like it, sweetheart." Once again he kissed her cheek and she couldn't help but turn her head and kiss his lips before he had pulled completely away.

"Why do you call me sweetheart?" she whispered, shocked that she had actually voiced the question she'd had for a while now.

Red regarded her for a minute before answering truthfully. "I don't know. It just comes out when I am around you. It just seems right… do you not like it?"

"I love it."

"I could stop," he said, truly meaning it, as he sat down in the chair next to the one she had already occupied.

"Please, don't." she nearly begged as she leaned forward and kissed his jaw, loving the feel of his skin against her lips.

"Shall we dance?"

"If we must," she groaned.

"Oh we must." Laughing at her slight frown, he pulled her up and threaded his fingers through hers as he pulled her to the dance floor. Lizzie tightened her grip on his fingers loving how seemingly perfect their hands fit together.

"I don't know how," she whispered under her breath.

"I'll show you." he turned to her and pulled her body against his, as close as he could get them. They both shivered at their proximity. Their eyes locked and he bent his head and kissed her with a passion she had never felt before. Her fingers slipped up to run over his short hair until her fingers met with his fedora.

Pulling back but not opening her eyes, she whispered against his lips, "Why?"

"Jazz club, Lizzie, it fits." She chuckled and they began to kiss again, both fully enjoying this moment together.

"Do I have to remind you that this is a dance floor and not a make-out session floor?" came a voice from behind them. Lizzie jumped back, but Red kept his arms fully wrapped around her.

"Oh, Jamieson, who are you kidding? You know you don't mind."

"That is true," the older man laughed, "but I had to get your attention somehow. This must be the infamous Lizzie." The man looked to be in his sixties but he looked oddly like George Clooney, he still looked very good. His eyes began to rake down her body and Red moved her slightly behind him, drawing a chuckle from the older man.

"It's Elizabeth to you," Red all but growled.

"Elizabeth, then. You usually don't mind others to look as long as they don't touch. But this one, neither? You must really care about this one, Red."

"I love her." Liz covered her shock well on her face. Did he mean that? She slid her fingertips into the back waistband of his pants, hoping to show the other man that she was his, at least in their role anyway, despite the fact that he probably couldn't see.

"Well, Red, you see, I've had something come up and have to leave…. Right now. You, however, feel free to stay with your beautiful lady friend. Drinks on the house. We can meet tomorrow morning." His eyes once again raked over what he could see of Lizzie, causing her to dig her fingers further into Red's waistband as if to tell him not to blow it. "On second thought, for your sake, let's make that tomorrow afternoon. Say three?"

"That sounds grand." To the man, he probably sounded normal but Liz could hear the strain in his voice. She let her pointer finger slip out of his waistband to draw nonsensical patterns on his lower back. She could practically feel the tension seep out of him.

"Good. Tomorrow then, Raymond. It was nice to meet you, Elizabeth." With a nod to each of them, he left.

"Now I believe, I said I was going to teach you to dance." The growl that reverberated in his voice this time as he turned to face her was one of a completely different nature than he had used with Rowley. He pulled her body close to his, once again as close as possible, and held her to him both fiercely and tenderly. The juxtaposition confused her but she had never felt so safe, secure, and aroused in all of her life. Slowly he began to move their bodies in time with the slow, sensual music.

"So, you love me?" She asked jokingly in the New York accent that they had agreed that she should use when around others.

He stopped their movements and looked her straight in the eyes. "More than you will ever know." And then, as if nothing had happened, they began moving again. The look that had passed through his eyes told her that he was serious and a strange feeling traveled through her body at the revelation. Not knowing what to say, Lizzie slid one arm from around his neck and moved it around his waist so that she could pull him closer. Leaning forward, she placed her face in the crook of his neck and breathed in his amazingly manly smell. Testing the water, she placed a kiss to the warm skin of his neck, right below where she had stabbed him with the pen. Pulling her even closer, he picked up her thigh from the slit in her dress and pulled it above his hip. She smiled into his neck as he kissed her bare shoulder, the feel of his warm hand on the sensitive skin at the back of her knee, his body even closer to her than she imagined was possible, his other hand resting so intimately just below her lower back, his body's response to having her so near rubbing aga- she jumped and he immediately put both hands directly at her lower back again.

Though she had moved away slightly, she was still close, and still had her face buried in his neck. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be, sweetheart. I'm the one who should be sorry, and I am." He kissed her temple and she felt a lone tear escape her eye.

"Please don't be. I'm just… I'm just not ready yet."

"And I shouldn't have pushed you," he sadly breathed into her neck, hoping no one was hearing their conversation but not willing to stop it.

"Raymond, look at me." she used the arm that was around his waist to come up and cradle his cheek, her thumb rubbing back and forth on it. Hesitantly, she placed a soft and sweet kiss to his lips. "You didn't push me too far. I was willing to go, just when I got there, I realized I just can't… yet. I'm not ready… yet. Please, don't pull away from me, Raymond." She loved the feel of his first name on her tongue, so did he. "I know you won't hurt me, but I'm still hesitant. I mean, I trusted Tom and look where that got me. And while I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you won't hurt me, it's still hard… It's so hard, Ray. "

"I know, sweetheart." He leaned his forehead against hers. "How about a drink?"

She chuckled, "Sure."

He pulled away from her and began to walk towards their previous table. His stride faltered when he felt her slim fingers between his and he prayed that the closeness that they had achieved tonight didn't disappear in the morning light. There they sat for the remainder of the night talking, laughing, and drinking until Liz's eyes began to droop. Red then called Dembe and he drove the two home.

During the car ride, Liz had moved Red's arm around her body and snuggled into his chest to "take a cat nap". When they pulled up to the house, however, they couldn't get her to wake up long enough to do anything but tell them to leave her in the car, she was too tired to walk. Sliding out, Red lifted her into his arms and carried her into the house and up the stairs. Laying her gently on her bed, he slipped her shoes off, pulled the covers from under her and put them over her. Gently running his hand over her hair he bent and placed a kiss to her forehead. As he began to walk away, her hand shot out and grabbed his hand. "Raymond?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Did you mean it? Do you really love me?"

Her eyes were still closed but he knew she would remember this in the morning which caused him to think about his answer before he gave it. He bent down again and placed a kiss to both cheeks and her forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep well," he whispered into her ear and then kissed it.

"Goodnight, Raymond," she breathed as he began walking out the door, and just before he had shut it all the way he heard her add, "I love you, too."

A/N: So I hope that you all liked it! I love this ship and Richard Blunt's pictures are just AMAZING! Anywho.. this was for IansDestiny who posted the prompt on FB which gave me the gumption to actually do it as I've been thinking about it for a while. Thanks girl! And thank you, Richard Blunt for your inspiration!