Adrenaline and endorphins surged through Liz's veins as she and Red kissed, clinging to each other in the middle of Fredrick's old sofa. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, thumped in her ears, as his lips and tongue moved with hers, advancing and yielding, coaxing and submitting. It was almost enough to make her forget what had happened earlier. Almost.

Even as the sick feeling in Liz's stomach started to fade, replaced instead by the gripping tendrils of arousal, she still needed something, something more, something that could help her put aside the reality of what she'd done, at least for a little while. Instinct drove her up onto her knees on the couch, in search of a better angle to slide her hands down from Red's shoulders towards the buttons down the middle of his chest.

When Red registered that Liz was tugging at his vest and trying to unbutton it, he pulled back with a ragged gasp, lungs panting and eyes wide and wild. He leaned back a bit more to be able to search her face, but he couldn't seem to take his hands off of her, the gentle reverence of his touch helping to keep her from dissolving into panic again.

Red worked his mouth wordlessly for a few moments while he struggled to speak, and the movement drew Liz's attention to his lips again, lips that she was entirely too familiar with in the grand scheme of things. They only differed from her well-trod mental image because they were slightly swollen from her kisses, which sent another rush of arousal through her body.

She'd done that to him. She kissed Red with enough passion, enough enthusiasm that anyone would be able to tell just how thoroughly he'd been kissed.

Without even realizing what she was doing, Liz tried to pull at his lapels to bring him back into range for yet another kiss, but he held fast and kept his distance.

"Is something wrong? Are you OK?" she asked.

At long last, Red found his voice again. "You've been through a traumatic experience."

Liz's stomach dropped. "Don't… Don't do this, Red. Please don't do this."

"I'm not… Lizzy, I'm not doing anything."

Red wasn't looking at her with pity or with regret. If anything, he looked confused. Then maybe he wasn't… he wasn't pushing her away, really. He was simply… trying to get hold of himself, to assess a meeting that had quickly shifted from one thing to something else entirely.

It was a completely reasonable thing for him to do, Liz reminded herself. As many times as she imagined how kissing him would go, as many times as he might have imagined it, it was still a shock to both of their systems to actually charge across that line.

"You're not trying to say this was a mistake? That we shouldn't have—"

"No. No. I'm just saying—from experience—that the things you do impulsively after trauma… Well, it's a good idea to remember to pace yourself. That's… that's all."

"Pace myself," she repeated, flatly. "I think you'd enjoy it if I decided not to pace myself."

Red let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Only if you would," he said, with a sigh. "Look. I'm not saying we have to stop, or even that we should stop. Just… keep in mind that I've been… well, not exactly where you are, but something like it, more times than I'd care to remember. The decisions you make right now can have lasting consequences."

"I'm on the pill," Liz blurted.

Red blinked in surprise. "While that's reassuring, it's not exactly what I mean."

"It's not?"

"No. The consequences I'm talking about, well… This isn't just… You—you aren't just looking for a distraction, are you?" He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. "Don't get me wrong, distractions can be wonderful, but… if that's all this is, I can't—I can't do that for you."

Liz's face fell, but before the humiliating chill of rejection had a chance to set in, he clarified. "Wait. I don't mean… What I'm trying to say is I can't be your distraction for a single night and then just… Not that I… shit."

Red was so flustered, it was almost adorable. Who was Liz kidding? It most definitely was adorable. He spent so much of his time knowing exactly what he wanted to say at exactly the moment he wanted to say it that the idea a few moments kissing her could steal that composure from him was intoxicating in its own right. She would've sworn if he wasn't already flushed from arousal and exertion, he'd be blushing from embarrassment over how tongue-tied he was and that made her feel powerful rather than vulnerable.

"What are you trying to say?"

Red took hold of one of her hands in both of his, ran his thumbs over her fingers while he searched around for the right words to explain his hesitance.

"I would want… I would do anything for you, Lizzy, but I can't do this and go back to the way our relationship was before. I can do a lot of things, but I can't pretend to be a stranger for you."

"I'm not asking you pretend to be anything, I just… I need something to convince me that things can be all right again."

"That is completely understandable, Lizzy, but… if we were to do this tonight and it didn't bring with it at least the potential for more… Please, if you think that's what will happen, tell me now and we won't go any further… Please spare me that heartache."

"Heartache?"

"Lizzy."

Liz's head spun, and for the first time all day, it wasn't for a negative reason. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

"Do you… Red, do you… do you have feelings for me?"

"Yes," he said, and the word came with all the weight of the confession of a long-held secret.

"Romantic feelings?"

Red chuckled. "Yes, Lizzy, I'm afraid I do."

Liz was dumbfounded.

She always looked at her relationship with Red through the filter of what he wanted from her, related to whatever his grand plan might be. She never allowed herself to consider that he might have feelings deeper than the superficial sexual attraction she witnessed from him towards multiple people, herself included. If she ever caught herself attempting to consider it, she always cut herself off lest she make the same mistakes she made before.

This wasn't exactly what she expected to discover when she called him tonight. She did wonder if perhaps Mr. Kaplan knew, if that was why she was so insistent. Because if she knew about Red's feelings, then of course she knew he wouldn't react badly to Liz keeping such a big secret from him. That he would probably forgive her for a lot more than killing a man he already believed she killed.

Her heart pounded in her ears as their past interactions flashed across her mind, and she couldn't help but turn them around to view them from the perspective that some of Red's behavior towards her could be explained as the actions of a man in the throes of unrequited love. Was he so caught up in his heart and mind that he didn't recognize her own interest and conflicted feelings for what they were? Did he not feel that she'd been pulled into his magnetic orbit pretty much from day one? How on earth could he miss it?

Unless he was in just as much active denial as she was.

"How long?"

"How long have I had feelings for you? Too long. Longer than I should have. Before I had any right… not that I have a right even now… Oh, for Pete's sake, I'm really sticking my foot in it, aren't I?"

"No." She couldn't keep her hands off him any more than he could her; she took his face between her hands and ran her thumbs along his skin. "Really, how long have you felt like this?"

"I've been… let's call it… infatuated with you since before you knew me. Before I really knew you. But, my God, Lizzy, you were beautiful and talented and resourceful, and my—my feelings for you only intensified once I got a chance to spend time with you."

"I almost killed you!"

His face broke out in a grin and he ducked his head, almost shyly. "That was the best part."

Liz couldn't help but laugh. "You're out of your mind."

"Most people think so," he said. "You're taking this well. Surprisingly well."

"Red, I just kissed you. I think that's a pretty big clue that I don't mind."

"I guess that's a good point," he said, with laughter on his voice and a smile still on his lips. He reached up and caressed her face, cupping her cheek ever so gently with his hand. "Oh, Lizzy."

Red sighed, and his breath hitched just a little bit when he did; Liz's stomach tightened pleasantly at the sound and she took the opportunity to dart forward and steal another kiss.

"I don't know how to do this," she said, after she pulled back. "I don't know how to deal with everything going so wrong. I killed a man. I took a life, in a way I've never taken one before. There's nothing I can do to make that not true. How do you deal with something like this? When things get so far out of hand that you can't even recognize yourself anymore?"

"Alcohol. Drugs. Sex," he said, and his voice dropped a bit on the last word. "It may seem counterproductive, but sometimes losing control in a… controlled… way can be exactly what you need."

"I don't want to wind up wandering around naked in the desert."

"OK, maybe that wasn't as controlled as it could've been; I'm probably not the poster child for taking my own advice as gospel," he said. "I think maybe you've stumbled onto the concept I'm describing intuitively, by kissing me tonight. You made yourself vulnerable. I could've rejected you. I'm sure that would've been… difficult to face after everything that happened. But you did it anyway. You took the chance, and it worked out. Would you be willing to take more chances with me tonight, and trust me to guide you through to the other side?"

"Yes," she said; he smiled softly, taking a lock of her hair between his fingers while his eyes searched her face.

"Do you usually undress for your lovers or do they undress you?"

Liz felt her face heat at so sudden and direct a question, but she screwed up her courage and answered anyway. "I undress. Most of the time. Sometimes I undress them, too."

"Let me undress you. At my own pace, in my own order. Can you do that?"

"Yes."

He gently took hold of her top button between his fingers and asked, "May I begin?"

She nodded. "Please."