AN: Some lines of dialogue here might sound familiar because they've been borrowed and tweaked from a scene in S2. I'm playing by the rule of TBL memory manipulation that certain people/events might be remembered, but in different roles than what actually occurred. There'll be more detail in the next chapter.


"You've been awfully quiet, Lizzy," Red said.

"Have I?"

Red nodded and took a sip from his glass, watching the liquor swirl. "If there's something in particular that's weighing heavily on you, maybe I can help… ease the burden for a while."

Liz fidgeted with her glass, awash with nervous energy. Since they had come back inside from their impromptu stargazing excursion, Red had been avoiding looking her in the eye. Not pointedly, of course. It was a subtle thing, but because her awareness of him was so heightened, she couldn't help but notice the way his gaze skittered away to land on her nose, or her hairline instead.

She understood why he was struggling, of course. In all honesty, it was the first thing she felt she really understood at all since she shot Tom Connolly.

Red had been more open with her that night than he usually was, more forthcoming about his… Well, his feelings for her—she couldn't think of any other way to describe it. His words had taken her breath away out under the starry sky, but before she could gather her thoughts to respond, he had ushered her inside, ostensibly worried about the damp, chilly sea air.

Red's confession, such as it was, was proving nearly as overwhelming for him as it was for Liz. He seemed restless now, same as she did, unable to settle down properly onto the couch across from her. She'd been searching around for something to say before he'd finally broken the silence, but she couldn't even begin to imagine what would suit a moment like this.

It wasn't every day that someone told you that you were their guiding light. She couldn't respond in kind, exactly. He wasn't so much a light in the darkness for her as he was stable, sturdy ground, an anchor to keep her from drifting too far out to sea.

Red cleared his throat, and Liz shook herself, turning her attention back to the tangible version of the man in the room with her rather than the theoretical version of him in her mind.

"You think you can help me find the peace below the winds?"

"Sure," he said, a gentle smile curving his lips. "At least I can try. What's on your mind?"

Liz set her glass on the coffee table and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees.

"Today, in the diner. It's the weirdest thing, in those moments with the hostages and the FBI watching our every move, one thing kept running through my head."

"What was it?"

"I don't want to regret anything."

"You did what you had to do today. Being on the run is about survival, first and foremost. What could there be to regret?"

"Not saying yes."

"Yes?" His brow furrowed. "Yes to what?"

"You."

The single word fell like a weight between them. When Red spoke again, his voice was rough.

"Me?"

"Yeah. You're always asking me to do these wild, impulsive things like… running off to Paris for dinner or… or leaving the FBI to race bottle-nosed dolphins on your catamaran and hunt Blacklisters on the open sea. I should've said yes. I would never have been anywhere near Tom Connolly if I said yes."

Red was at a loss for words for a long, pregnant moment. "You couldn't have known…"

"No. You're right. I couldn't have. That doesn't mean I shouldn't have said yes anyway."

"I… I didn't realize you had ever seriously considered taking me up on those offers."

"I didn't, but I should have. I've wanted to. Especially when things have been bad. I just never… had the guts to give it the amount of thought it really deserved."

Red took a deep breath and let it out slowly through parted lips. "Lizzy, those invitations… Don't get me wrong, I did always intend for them to be genuine. But I never expected you to agree to go with me. If that makes you feel any better."

"What if I had said yes? Would you have backtracked? Rescinded the invitation?"

"Well… no. I would have wanted to make sure you knew what you could be facing if you went with me, but otherwise…" He glanced at her briefly, but again couldn't hold her gaze. "I would've counted my blessings and been honored to have you with me."

"I'm with you now."

"Under much less happy circumstances."

Liz pushed herself up onto her feet and started pacing, chewing on the edge of her thumb nail. She could feel Red's eyes on her, following her progress back and forth across the narrow room.

"Maybe we should just disappear."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? You're here, I'm here, all we have to do is go." Liz came to a stop in front of him; he craned his neck to look up at her and Liz felt their eyes lock with a spark. "Run away with me. Once we reach Spain, we can just—"

"Lizzy, if we run away, if we disappear, we'll never get answers. We'll never be able to find out the truth if we're always looking over our shoulders."

"I don't need to know the truth to know what I want."

"What do you want, Lizzy?"

"You. More than anything, I want you."

Liz could hear Red's next breath; it was deep and ragged and sudden, almost a gasp. He swallowed convulsively before he managed to regain the power of speech.

"We… We don't have to run away together for that. We don't have to give up everything else to… explore us, if that's what you want. If we defeat The Cabal, if we clear your name…"

"I know. I know that makes sense, but leaving is…"

"A temptation. It seems simpler."

"But it wouldn't be, would it?"

"No. As much as I wish it would be, it wouldn't. There wouldn't be peace—maybe for a little while, but not in the long run."

"Fine. OK." She sat on the coffee table, so close to him that she had to slot her knees in between his in order to fit in the tight space. "But do you know what would be simple?"

"No. What would be simple?"

"This," she said, taking his face in her hands and claiming his lips.