A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read. Love this ship!

Disclaimed, as usual. If I owned this mess, Lizzington would have already been confirmed;)

Liz and Dembe landed on the outskirts of Puerto Lopez, a small beach town in Ecuador. They landed on a bumpy, dilapidated airstrip in the middle of nowhere.

The plane was already taking off before Liz could do anything but look at the lush landscape around them. Everything was so green.

The ocean wasn't far off. She could smell the salt in the air.

Dembe carried all three duffels to a waiting Land Rover before she could even voice a desire to help.

Ok, so they were still in running mode. She sighed and climbed in the vehicle.

Their accommodations were amazing. As Dembe pulled up to the mansion on the beach she teased "So we are keeping a low profile, yeah?"

She felt heartened that Dembe actually cracked a smile. It couldn't all be doom and gloom if he could smile.

She honestly didn't see what all of the fuss was about.

Sure she might lose her job, but she was protecting a vital asset. She doubted that any criminal charges would actually stick.

Just thinking about how close Red came to death made her quake, with rage, with fear.

Although she wasn't dumb enough to believe that no one would be after her, she did think that leaving the country was a bit much.

When had Red ever been reasonable when it came to her protection?

She wished she could be with him. Who was to say that there wouldn't be another attempt on his life?

She needed to be there for him. She owed him.

He had protected her many times, he deserved no less devotion from her.

She wasn't sure when she stopped hating him. All she knew was that when the hate stopped, the doubts started. She had thought for so long that he was using her.

She hated the thought of being a tool in Red's personal global turf war, but not as much as she hated the fact that she no longer could make herself loath him.

She had a grudging respect for his superior expertise on almost every subject. He was a tactical genius, there was no denying that.

The man behind the facade was where her interest was focused.

The fulcrum was in his hands, yet he still treated her as if she were vital to his end game.

During his stay in the hospital, she spent every spare moment she could with him, the man.

It was a wondrous experience. He was even more enigmatic behind the mask, if that even made sense.

She was caught, ensnared in a trap of her own making. In love with number four on the FBI's most wanted list.

But she'd be damned if she told him. Not yet, at least.

Dembe took their bags upstairs, down an expansive hallway covered in beautiful artwork, to a suite of rooms that would be her home for the foreseeable future.

She had settled in and was to meet Dembe in the dining room for a meal.

Her duffel bag was full of clothes for her. They were her size. Beautiful, expensive clothes that someone had painstakingly chose to fit her body and coloring perfectly.

This plan was a long time in the making.

It took her longer than necessary to reach the dining room. This house was a showpiece, for sure. So very beautiful, but comforting and homey at the same time.

Overstuffed furniture, books and art could be found throughout the house. No hard lines of contemporary decorating or uncomfortable furniture in sight.

This house had Raymond Reddington written all over it. Her outlook over this entire situation had Raymond Reddington written on it as well, if she was being honest with herself.

She knows that she's changed. That's more than fine. If she has learned anything in the past year and a half it's that those that adapt, survive.

Like Red, she plans on being around for the sequel. One where they can finally wade through all the bullshit and just be together.

She's finally ready.

Dembe was waiting, not yet seated, just gazing out the floor to ceiling windows at the ocean in the distance. The view was spectacular.

"Agent Keen, before we eat, I wanted to contact Mr. Kaplan, but waited for you because I know that if he's awake, he will be anxious to speak to you."

Tears sprang into her eyes. "Thank you Dembe, for being so thoughtful. Also, just call me Liz please, Agent Keen is in the past, I think."

"Liz, then" he said with a small smile. She could tell he was anxious, ready to make the call.

There was a settee at the far end of the dining room, flanked by tall tropical trees. Dembe stood by while the phone was dialing.

Liz just sat, knees up to her chin with her head resting on them, and tried to calm her breathing.

She knew the second she heard his voice, she would probably break down.

Mr. Kaplan must have answered because Dembe stated "We are fine. You know where. Is he ok? Tell me about security on your end."

Dembe closed his eyes and exhaled in relief. He opened them and nodded to her.

Red was fine. She couldn't help the tears that ran silently down her face.

He tensed and switched to another language, speaking urgently.

So happy that Red was well enough to talk, and try to boss Dembe around from a continent away, Liz let out a laugh that was actually a sob.

Dembe paused, spoke quietly to Red, and then handed her the phone.

She held the phone up to her ear, saying nothing.

"Lizzie." His voice was low and strong, while hers was a broken mess.

"Red."

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, no, I don't know. I'm not hurt, if that's what you mean. Dembe has been shooting first and foregoing the questions at all, so there's that going for me."

Her attempt at levity did not deter him from his questioning.

"Lizzie, sweetheart, you're crying. What's the matter?"

"I'm fine. Just…you're on the phone and I wish I could be with you and I am so damn happy that you are ok and I can't believe that I am in Ecuador and I know that I am rambling, but I don't even care, I just want to talk to you."

"Oh, Lizzie, I am so very happy to hear that."

He told her of his plans and what was going on with them there. He reassured her that he had been moved by Mr. Kaplan and her very competent team away from the hospital.

Her shuddering breaths played background for his long explanation until he reached the end and said "-I'll be there with you within a week-"

"Wait. What?! You can't get on a plane, you nearly died. Your lung is compromised, the cabin pressure could damage it beyond repair. You will not come here until you receive a clean bill of health."

"As much as I adore your concern for my well-being, I don't require a lecture on safe travelling, and you can lower your voice at any time. My ears are just fine. I'm not that old yet."

"I apologize if me caring for you is a problem, but at this point, it can't be helped, so too bad."

Nothing could be heard from the other end.

He was either shocked or measuring his words.

Neither of those options bode well for her.

"Lizzie, I-"

"Listen Red, I need to go, here's Dembe."

With that, she practically threw the phone at Dembe and left the room, tears silently tracking down her cheeks.

Tbc…

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