AN: *Oh Shit* I'm sorry for the stupid error with the upload. Should be all good now.
This could be worthy of mention... Recall from earlier chapters that in this fic, Madeline Pratt is a passionate woman of questionable sanity. She tirelessly attempts to seduce Red at any given opportunity, but he rebuffs her. To put it bluntly: He uses her to stroke his ego, not his cock. Lizzie, however, is jealous and insecure and she doesn't really know that.
Due to her already-noted characteristics/role in this fic, in it, she isn't responsible for putting Red's head on the auction block.
*angst warning* I'm sorry, but it had to happen in order to set up the next chapter, which will be much happier.
Thanks so much for all of the sweet love and reviews! You guys always brighten my day. =D
Can't claim ownership of anything
Chapter Five
In the days that followed what should have been a cataclysmic night together, the dynamic between Red and Liz actually changed very little. They began spending more time together outside of work, and they were more affectionate- more "hands on" with one another, but after a week, they'd only had sex one more time. It was mind-blowing, incredibly hot sex, but still...
All of Liz's questions, both old and new, went unasked, and try as she might, they wouldn't leave her head alone. The mysteries hovered without mercy, and she feared her own reaction to what she considered the most probable outcome- his refusal to answer.
And it's just as well too, because she would have been right. The problem, Red knew, was that when someone else opens a door, you've gotta be ready to go through it.
He wasn't.
Maybe it was good FOR HER, but the vulnerability that she'd accidentally walked into greatly exceeded that which Red was prepared to share. He didn't know how to be cared for in such a way.
At the time, as far as she could tell, the point of the Mexican cave fish story was that Red wanted her to see that he was changing, and that he could and would be better, both for and because of her.
Now, after his reaction to her saving him from Yaabari, the actual point of his story clicked into place.
Red wasn't hoping that she'd see it. He was hoping that he could BE it... eventually. She didn't see him as a monster anymore, hadn't for awhile, in fact. What she'd assumed would be a victory for him rang instead as a heavily-weighted liability.
"How do you live with that?"
"By saving your life."
Exactly how many times would he have to save her in order to effectively erradicate that feeling entirely? She'd already lost count of how many times he'd done it. She'd also lost count of how many times he'd personally engineered the circumstances that had put her at risk in the first place. That too, was a part of the problem. She dove into these dangerous situations head-first, just ACCEPTING the necessity of risk. Things that looked safe? Well, Tom had taught her that they probably weren't. She was far more wary of the easy route.
But Red blamed himself.
All of these things went unsaid, even after the auction, because after dropping Lizzie off at her crappy motel, Red and Dembe immediately took off for Havana. He made no mention of it that night, but he'd told her about it the day before. He should have changed his plans. He should have at least called while he was gone, but he didn't. He missed her terribly.
So... Who needs to grow up, now?
-...-...-...-
As soon as Red was wheels-down in Virginia, he called her.
"Lizzie, we need to talk." He headed straight from the jet to his waiting car, taking long strides across the the tarmac.
"Do we? I might have said that several days ago."
Already expecting a degree of ire, he rolled with it. "Where are you? Or rather, where will you be in an hour?"
"My storage locker."
"Still the one at CubeSmart?"
"Well, I have two there now, but yeah, I'm in the first." He probably already knew that, she thought, rolling her eyes.
"I'm on my way."
"Okay." She abruptly hung up.
After staring at his phone in well-deserved frustration, he circled back to help Dembe with their luggage.
-...-...-...-
Just shy of one hour later, he entered her locker without knocking.
"Lizzie." His expression would have passed for impassive, with anyone else.
Hands on her hips, she blinked at him through narrowed eyes.
He slowly stepped closer, only inches between them. "I know that you had to do it, and that you couldn't help it."
Her hands dropped, but she steadily held his gaze. "That's what love is."
"So you also know, then, that I can't help my reaction."
"That's a bit of a cop out, don't you think?"
He grabbed one of her hands and softly clasped it between his. "An exceptionally all-encompassing cop out. Perhaps the mother of all cop outs. Perfectly applicable to everything. Everything that I've ever done. Everything that you've ever done."
"Perhaps everything that everyone has ever done."
"There's also greed."
"Greed for something that someone loves."
"Hatred. Malice. Revenge."
"All in the name of safeguarding something that someone loves."
"We're getting way off-track here. I'm just trying to apologize, Lizzie." He dropped her hand and grabbed her hips, pulling her flush against him.
She couldn't help melting a little. She'd missed him, after all, and he was so warm, and he was speaking in that low, breathy tone, and he smelled so... god, he smelled so amazing, but THIS. This couldn't go on, and she wouldn't let it. "If you love me so much, Red, then I need you to completely rewire your sense of self, and your worth."
"It's not that simple."
"I'm not saying that it is, but Red... to some degree, surely you must- you must understand how this affects me."
"I do."
"And yet, here we are."
Long seconds later, Liz continued, "And remember what you said? That Tom had to work so hard to be kind and thoughtful, to make me laugh, and to make me love him... all because I deserve the best in life. You said that it was the end, and then that something new would begin."
"Yes."
"Well, THIS is not for the best. LOSING YOU is not in my best interest. I will NOT promise never to do it again."
She really wouldn't back down from this, would she?
For Red, this was an unsavory liability. As much as it pained him to face Liz's cold shoulder, things were much safer for her that way. It's simply too dangerous for her to constantly jump in front of the untold number of bullets that seek him in perpetuity. Nevermind the fact that he wanted her love more than anything in the world. If she loves him too much to ever step aside on his word alone, then the only recourse that he could imagine was to make her love him less.
His folly. Being pissed wouldn't have been enough to stop her from defending him.
"Where is The Fulcrum?"
He'd planned on waiting for her to bring it up, on her own, whenever she was ready. She would have, in time...
But in his eyes, waiting was no longer an option.
"Excuse me?"
"I think you heard me."
"Unbelievable." She pulled back, her face affixed with a scowl.
"I still need it."
"Goddamnit, Red! I thought we were past this."
"Me too, so give it to me and watch me stay. YES it brought me into your life, and yes, it is one of the reasons that I'm still here now.. but it's only one of several, and it isn't even the biggest one. You are. Not The Fulcrum. You."
He needed her to be mad and distrusting, but he absolutely could not and would not cut her off.
"I want to believe you..."
He let out a long, deep breath, nostrils flaring. "You have it."
"Yes."
The statement was only a lark, and the results surprised Red. He worked his jaw and canted his head. "So? Where?"
"It's here, actually, but I don't... I don't know if I can give it to you."
"Of course not."
Oh, that nerve spasm, and yet again, those bottom teeth.
"Lizzie, I'm not going to leave you."
"Are you really willing to prove that?" She asked tentatively, gears churning in her head.
"Yes."
Liz nodded towards her desk. The quiet in the storage locker made it the perfect place to go whenever she really needed to concentrate. Peace was never guaranteed at the motel, and she couldn't bring her unofficial, off the record ventures into the post office without risk.
But for now, she could park Red there without having to worry about him.
"Put both of your hands on the desk, palms down."
She fished The Fulcrum out of her purse and set it directly in front of him.. His eyes widened and then angled to regard her curiously, but Red complied without complaint. Even Liz didn't know what the hell she was doing, exactly, but it felt good. She made a conscious effort to exude confidence, even if it was a little contrived.
"Keep both of your feet on the floor until I come back," she added, and then turned to leave without another word.
Expecting to see Dembe out in his car, Liz exited the facility while holding her cellphone high, feigning an inexplicably poor signal. When she spotted him, she ambled over for a quick chat. "Hey, Red's gonna be staying here for awhile. I'm not sure how long he wants you to wait here though, so you may want to run inside to ask."
"Okay."
"Oh! May I borrow your phone while you're in there? Mine seems to be hating my guts right now, but I just need to make a quick phonecall."
He paused before handing it over. If he was curious, it certainly didn't show.
As soon as Dembe stepped away, she opened Red's contact list and took several photos of it. Then she called Ressler, ensuring that it would show up on the call log. When Dembe returned, she hung up the phone and passed it to him. "Thank you again. You're a life saver."
"Have a nice evening, Agent Keen."
"You too."
Hmmm... now what?
-...-...-
Armed with Madeline's phone number, Liz returned to her motel to make use of it.
She dialed from an old burner phone, just in case, and was somewhat surprised when the bitch answered, and quickly too.
"Hello?"
"In case you're wondering, your boyfriend is at CubeSmart Storage, 175 R Street Northeast, Washington, DC. He may be in danger."
"Who are y-" Liz hung up and dropped the phone into a glass of water before the woman could ask any questions.