Disclaimer: See chapter 1. Not mine.
All the music can be found on my YouTube account (under CH2.)
All the graphics can be found on my Tumblr account (under fanfiction)
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Previously
Where on God's green earth were they going? And what was this irresistible pull she felt towards Red?
Slowly, the car made its way into the deep, dark recess of the night as questions plagued her mind. Inquiries. Uncertainties. Further into the unknown.
CH2. - The art of seduction.
The car ride was amiable; soft melodious jazz music that drifted out of the speakers filled the car's comfortable silence. Liz continued to stare outside for a long duration of time, the moving city hypnotizing, soothing her into a dreamlike state. Comforting. Relaxed.
Human beings could be such incongruous creatures, rushing from one place to another, never having enough time to slow down, to stand still and observe the quiet beauty surrounding them.,.to take a moment, take a deep breath to appreciate life and all its wonders.
She used to be one of them. She had a life, hopes of a future; the white picket fence, the perfect husband, children. A home. A lie. Most people's lives were fabricated, interwoven with their own sense of reality. The beautiful lie. She wondered if she could ever be part of 'normal' society again. Blend in. Anonymous.
Her thoughts gradually began to drift, getting further away from the veracity of everyday life.
'An upscale three-story beach house. Two children, engaged in a game of catch played in the front yard as carefree laughter filled the house with delight. Happiness. Sam. Her father was there too; dressed in white, running after them. A boy with dirty blond, curly hair dressed in a pepper red polo, light jeans, and white tennis shoes chased after a girl with similar longer hair in a raspberry red dress, squealing, bare feet, trying to escape from Sam to no avail. Liz observed the scene from her front porch, sitting still in a rocking chair as a wide smile spread across her face. A soft breeze whispered in her ear, her long hair a tangled mess. The delightful smell of seawater and homemade food filled her nostrils. Home. A large, warm hand placed upon her shoulder. Familiar and safe. She softly clutched the hand in hers. Curly, coarse, blond hairs tickled her right cheekbone as she rested her head on top. Her thumb drew lazy patterns in a circular motion over his knuckles. The sky was colored in beautiful rays of yellow, orange, and blue hues. The silver colored metal on her ring finger lit up, reflective in the morning sun.
She used to have this dream quite often before everything went to shit.
The face of the man remained unknown. Unseen. It was not Tom. The faux husband had drifted away, vaporized into thin air. Disappeared a long time ago. No more than a ghost of her past. No longer her concern.
"Lizzie, I love you." Mellifluously, words left his mouth, followed by a kiss on the crown of her head. Something Liz never thought to hear from a man's mouth again. Her smile reached her eyes. Laugh wrinkles more pronounced at the sides of her mouth and outer corners of her eyes. Crows feet. Years had gone by. Her story now written in the lines on her face, exposed for everyone to see. The warmth of the sun kissed her skin as she closed her eyes to savor this moment of total bliss.
"I love you too," she whispered back, her voice cracking as her eyes welled up with unshed tears. It sounded genuine. Soft, dry lips pressed upon her cheek as a lone tear escaped. Benevolence. Acceptance. Love.
Would she ever have the ability to trust a man again…to open up her heart to the possibility of endless love?
"Butterball, the only way to be truly happy with anyone is to love one another without any expectations. Someone who is willing be there for you, no matter what."
She missed her father tremendously. If only Sam could see her now. Fractured, alone with a heaviness of the heartache that tormented her. Much stronger than ever yet confused and perturbed. Unraveling.
The hand on her shoulder disappeared. The picturesque clear sky transformed into a nightmare of thunder, lightning, and whirls of harsh winds as angry dark clouds started to block the sun. Her light. No! Panic that rose within her core, bubbled up to the surface. My children. Sam. My husband. They were gone. Her house. Everything was gone. The front porch that once held life was barren.'
Beep! Beep! The honking of a car woke her up. Her heart beat erratically. Restless. Her face stuck against the window, her neck twisted in an awkward position. Her mouth felt dry like sandpaper and her tongue stuck to the palate. Through half-lidded eyes, Liz peered outside. The busy NY traffic had slowed them down to an almost stand still.
She glanced back at her reflection just in time to see Red gawking intently at her shapely legs, his gaze traveled from her sturdy ankles up to her strong calves and smooth thighs. Lingering. Her predator. His prey. It was over in a blink of an eye as she squirmed in her seat, making him acutely aware of her consciousness.
He glanced down at his watch and requested Dembe to take a detour if they were going to make it on time for their reservation. This gave her a moment to adjust the hem of her skirt, which had risen to mid femur, and fixed her ruffled hair. Thank god her blouse was still firmly in place, her raven black lace bra peeked from underneath the opening, barely seen in the dimly lighted car. Flashes of passing traffic lights and cars waved over them. Dark. Light. Dark then light again.
"How long was I out?" Liz groggily asked as she rotated her head to look at him and rubbed the sore muscles at the back of her neck. Her heartbeat had slowly returned to its normal rhythm.
Red's lips curved up in a smile. "Roughly 20 minutes. Looked like you needed it. It was quite an adorable sight. Having trouble sleeping lately?" he questioned in hushed tones, his voice undemanding, eyes lit up in curiosity. One eyebrow lifted, and his hands rested firmly on his thighs.
"Where are we going?" Liz abrasively redirected as she dropped her hand to her lap. The mission. Noj Eisenkamp, a peculiar name for an American doctor.
Red's voice was louder this time, as he spoke in his usual brawl. "1OAK. You might have heard of this place?"
Liz nodded. "You mean the high-end club where elite socialites congregate and spend too much on liquor to remember anything the next day, apart from noticing their somewhat diminished bank accounts? That 1OAK?" Liz questioned sarcastically, annoyed. She may not have had a taste of their lifestyle, but she did not live under a rock.
Red smirked at her caustic behavior. Leave it up to Lizzie to be the buzz killer. Volatile. He tilted his head to the side. "Yes. It is also one of Eisenkamp's favorite retreats in the Big Apple." His eyes turned dark as one corner of his lips lifted for a mere second. "He is quite fond of female companionship. He might be present tonight."
She wondered about the sudden change of expression, but chose to ignore it. "Might? Are you telling me that the prodigious Raymond Reddington does not know for sure?" Liz queried in mock disbelief, rolling her eyes.
"Lizzie, as much as I appreciate your irresolute confidence in me, I am not an omniscient being. I have never met the man, and my source is not 100% reliable. He was a former patient who escaped from a psych ward. His mind is not very shrewd. However, with a few pins and needles, we were successful in extracting the information I needed," Red illuminated in a blithe tone, and then cracked a wry smile.
Liz dismissively waved her hand. "I don't even want to know how. Isn't that place booked for at least a few weeks? It is Friday," Liz's scoffed, brows knitted together, her eyes vigilant. She felt more rested than she was back at the Post Office.
"Surely you must know by now, Lizzie, that I have my ways. Backdoors have never been a issue for me," he replied, calm and brisk, as if it were an everyday occurrence.
Liz crossed her legs as she looked back outside. Even in light of the conversation, Liz didn't feel good about this at all. She did not know why, but there was something he wasn't telling her. Red always kept his cards close to his chest. Her trepidation left her with an unsettled feeling. Guarded. Vexed.
Red studied her posture in the reflection of the glass. The wary emotions Lizzie was trying to hide spread over her face, as clear as words on paper. Maybe he had misjudged the situation.
"Relax, Lizzie, we will make our way through the front door this time. We'll have a quick chat with the doctor and have him back at the black site in a jiff. Trust me. I won't let anything happen to you," he mouthed, bullish, eying the back of her head.
Liz crossed her arms as her head snapped in his direction. She hated that he could read her so easily. Tom always said that she was a terrible liar. Takes one to know one.
"Trust you?! How can you ask me to trust you, when I don't even know why I am here or what you want from him? Because we both know you have your own agenda, Reddington," she exclaimed as anger prickled her senses again. She was nervous. On edge. Trusting him often got her in the direst situations, even though he always managed to safe her in the end.
'What the hell am I getting myself into? Will he ever be able to tell me the whole truth? What does he want from me?'
Queries. Uncertainties. It had become part of her daily ritual. She woke up with questions and tried to settle them down before going to bed. Would she ever find peace of mind again? The occasional calisthenics and sleeping pills only helped up to a certain point.
Red tried to mask his hurt at her indignant accusations, even though she was veracious. He had assumed that they were past this. Guess not. He had been the antagonist for the most appalling things that happened to her in the past. He had vowed to love and protect her, two things he was failing at miserably.
Red's expression blanked as he stared in front of him. "Doctor Noj Eisenkamp is a vicious being, barely a man. He plants a seed in the deepest layer of your subconscious mind, then lets it fester until he gets what he wants from you," he disparaged as his eyes turned ice cold, jaded in color. Impenetrable. His face was unreadable, schooled in the gloom light inside the car. The streaks of light gave him a ghost like appearance, heightened by his sudden sullen mood.
She willed herself not to feel guilty by her sudden outburst of raw emotions. They needed to focus on the task at hand. She wondered how this seed was planted, but was afraid to probe. She was backpedaling. Unsure.
As if Red could read her mind, he answered her unspoken question.
"I don't know how it works exactly, some sort of psychedelic drug combined with some kind of hypnotic methodology changes you. You literally become a different person. A slave. A killer. Open to every suggestion. He enjoys making other people suffer and you will have no memory of it subsequently." The last words were dragged out in malice. Lips turned down. Eyes glaring. An expression of disgust was noticeable on his face; similar to the one she had seen before. Red looked abrasive. Pissed. Venomous.
Her body shudders at the thought. It sounded like something out of a psychological thriller or science fiction.
Liz let out a nervous breath. "Why?" she questioned cautiously.
Red squinted at her, his mask back in place. "Why what, Lizzie?"
"Why do you hate him so much? I have never seen you this distraught before."
Red was slightly taken aback. Surprised. Impressed. Sometimes he forgot that she was a profiler. She could read him as accurately as he could read her when his guard was down. Fascinating. Dangerous. A small smile graced his thinned lips before it disappeared.
With a mischievous glint in his eye he asked, "What do you know about the art of seduction?"
Liz looked up at him incredulously. Perplexed. 'Really? He was going to ask her this? Now, of all times? Where the hell is he going with this…' She shrugged her shoulders. "Isn't that a book on how to pick up women?"
Red flashed a closed mouthed smile, his right cheek dimpled and the corners of his eyes creased. Jovial. He clasped his hands in front of his stomach with fingers intertwined, and turned his body sideways so that his right elbow rested at the back of his seat. He casually leaned back against the warm cushioned leather and draped his left leg over his right, positioned to be in near proximity, and tilted his head. She had his full attention. Their mixed scents created an intoxicated smell.
Liz had seen this posture many times before. There was a story behind this preposterous question. No doubt. Her arms loosened and dropped to her lap while she crossed her ankles. Slightly more relaxed now. Open. She would never tell him, but she loved to hear him talk nonsense, even when it was often with merit.
Red hollowed out the inside of his cheek with his tongue and ran his tongue along the side, taking a moment to sort his thoughts. His eyebrows knotted in concentration and his lips pursed before he spoke mellifluously.
"Yes, it is. Except it gives you a narrative on the different ways of seduction, seducers, and 'victims'. Whereby Maddie was an expert, Eisenkamp is not. Seduction in today's civilization is far more complex than it used to be."
Liz tried to mask her annoyance at the mention of Madeline Pratt. It was still a sore spot. If she would cross paths with that woman in the future, she'd make sure to give her a piece of her mind and more. Treacherous bitch.
Red, seemly unaware of what had transpired, continued on with his monologue, his face contorting in various unaltered expressions.
"Seduction is about power and manipulation as much as it is about romance. It is about how to make someone fall under your spell. Emotional feelings and sexual desire interleaved, altered by today's civilization. Changed by human behavioral ecology. At least in our culture, one can simply not exist without the other."
He shook his head lightly as he punctuated his words with his gradually moving hands and deft fingers.
"During the haeterist-aphroditic stage, sexual relations were unregulated, and the woman was basically at the mercy of the man. Promiscuity and sexual exploitation triumphed. That is, until women rebelled, revolting in a worldwide Amazonian stage. The catalyst for monogamy as we know it today. A grand power shift, whereby bigamy was criminalized and cheating frowned upon. Taboos we never voiced because of shame and embarrassment. Such base emotions…." His voice had dropped a few octaves during his speech. His eyes, half-lidded, bore directly into her soul. Jade greens, fixated and intense.
Thank god he couldn't actually read her mind. Professor Reddington Xavier. Had a nice ring to it. He would be shocked. Or maybe intrigued. She tried to swallow her inner voice and continued to stare at his face, everywhere except his gorgeous eyes. They seemed to change color with every passing of light. He may have noticed her dilated pupils, her flushed cheeks, and the veins that were about to burst out of the arteries along the sides of her throat. Her left hand worried her scar. A nervous habit she couldn't seem to break.
Damn that man and his voice. All she heard was sex this, sex that... The blood flow directly to her ears dampened the sound of his voice; still the vibrations tickled her ears, warmed her loins, and weakened her knees. Her seat got increasingly warmer with every minute that passed.
She tried to calm herself by thinking obtuse things. Her gaze drifted back to his eyes and cleared her throat.
"Red, as much as I appreciate your rendition on the history of human sexuality, is there a point to this?" she jested.
His facial expression grew comical at being stopped mid sentence…his hands in mid-air, eyebrows high on his forehead...His mouth opened and closed before pointing his index finger towards the roof of the car as if to make a point...to let him finish whatever he was trying to say for a moment more.
His posture had subsided as his voice toned down to quiet hushed tones that were barely perceptible over the mellow music. She stared, uninhibited, at his lips when he spoke again.
"What used to be so easily obtained became complicated. Barter for sexual relations. Dinner, drinks followed by a movie...walks on the beach, holding hands, and taking long baths. Sharing intimate thoughts, hopes, and dreams. Romance is more prominent and important nowadays than the act of procreation. Women in general want to be wooed. Noj has difficulty understanding the rules of seduction. Most men do. He handles rejection quite differently, though. He is still in the primeval stage. No more than a Homo Neanderthalensis. He takes what he can't have. Addicted to fornication and beautiful women.."
The same insidious tone returned to his voice when he spoke of the doctor, revealing his obvious distaste for the man.
The words didn't need to be verbalized. She understood them loud and clear. "So, if I understand you correctly, he basically is a nymphomaniac cave man?" Liz interjected, a slightly elated suggestion to cut this tension that settled over them. She loathed what humankind could do to each other, and his vile kind was one of the worst.
A lopsided smile adorned his face, his mood elevated. Back to his former self. He appreciated her oversimplified terms of engagement. He was in awe of her abilities to surprise him. She could destroy him with a single glance as well as lift his spirits with an unpretentious smile. It was a new experience for him, one he enjoyed tremendously.
"It is not the hyper sexuality part that I despise. It is one of the healthier addictions to have in this world," he purred seductively.
A bump in the road almost made her jump out of her skin. The jazz music was louder this time as Dembe turned up the volume. Liz almost forgot about the man driving them. He must have heard everything.
She hung on Red's every word. Mesmerized. Naomi was right about his power to make a woman feel like she was the center of his universe.
She wondered if Red was a romantic at heart. Probably not. "Do you believe in monogamy? Or are you fonder of the other stages..." she susurrated, the words out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Modesty be damned, she was curious. She knew about his past. His appetite.
His eyes locked with hers as his body turned to lean over her until their faces were mere inches apart. The tip of his shoe brushed against her shin as his fedora pressed into her hip, with her jacket and purse placed underneath. "Oh Lizzie, as much as I wish that we could go back in time to observe the wonders of a world long forgotten, I do not own a time machine."
He shrugged nonchalantly and grinned, his pace slow and deliberate.
"At least, as far as I know, there isn't one invented yet. Besides, I quite relish the art of seduction. I like the challenge...anticipating a woman's needs. It is the most exciting part. To be in a committed monogamous relationship is a choice between two or more individuals. Lots of couples invent their own rules. I despise the hypocrisy of today's civilization that the one is out there. Society likes to repress their sexual urges by abiding rules of engagement. We are all animals at heart, driven by the instinct to procreate and to survive. Chemistry and pheromones. A mutual attraction combined with an emotional connection. Evolution made relationships multifaceted and far more interesting, don't you think?" he asked flatly and gravelly, curious as to where her mind was. She seemed absent. Quid pro quo.
She regretted her impulsive actions. His voice was suave. Melodic. Rich. His tone reminded her of when they first met. 'Ohh I think you are very special.' The look he gave her made her uncomfortable at the time. Erotic. She still did not know why she was 'special' to him. He did not even answer her question completely, and she had a feeling that he would never give her a simple, straightforward answer. It was just not who Red was.
No... simple was not a word she would ever use to describe him. He was intricate. Ruthless. Enigmatic aplomb. Infuriating. Intelligent. Caring. Fun. Prodigious. Charming, and a lot more. He was a true gentleman at heart, and astonishingly human. A paradigm of paradoxes. A puzzle she would never solve. Ever changing and evolving. The profile she made more than a year ago became absolutely inaccurate. Yet, all she could think about was, why me?
"Why you? What, Lizzie?" Red asked.
A sudden heat spread though her veins and tingled her ears. Liz was stunned by her voice breathing out the question that had plagued her subconscious mind since the day they met.
Her face portrayed a deer caught in the headlights look, and the creamy complexion of her cheeks turned to a lovely color of dusty pink. Fuck! Just breathe and think. The wheels in her mind turned as she rubbed her scarred skin raw.
"Why take me with you?" Liz lied, fretting over his response. Even though she already knew. 10Ak had it's own rules and policies regarding women.
A hefty, sly smile spread across his face, dimples showing. "Because the only way to get in the club is if we bring a lovely lady with us," he clarified.
His shoulders shrugged. "Where is your sense of adventure, Lizzie? Smell the roses. Live a little. You might enjoy it," he suggested, waving his left index finger in her direction. Satirical.
Liz jutted her chin in his direction and crossed her arms. "Why not take Agent Navabi? If all you need is a pretty face by your side…?" she hissed out. What was wrong with her? He just answered her own question.
Red leaned further back in his seat and held eye contact. "Because I always wanted to take the prettiest girl to the prom," Red responded sincerely after a moment, hoping that his answer would settle her mind. In truth, he would take Lizzie over Navabi any day. Samar was just a pawn on his chessboard...Lizzie was so much more. He was confident that she could handle herself in any situation.
Liz was momentarily dumbfounded and searched his deep forest green orbs for a glint of dishonesty. She had never been the belle of the ball. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She liked it. She felt beautiful. If she was honest with herself, it was because he voiced it.
They just continued to observe each other as various emotions transpired between them. The tension was almost unbearable. Cheeks tinged red. Heartbeats rose. Breathing elevated. Pupils dilated. A wave of intense pleasure and pain assaulted her heart. Pleasure of acknowledging the unspoken mutual attraction. Pain for never getting to taste the forbidden fruit and for wanting to do it in the first place. Desperately.
It was wrong. Messed up and frowned upon for numerous reasons. FBI. Criminal. Her father. Secrets. And yet, she couldn't deny what was between them. A strong connection. Electric chemistry.
She was sure that if they touched, they would explode. Vaporize. Spontaneous combustion.
All of a sudden, Red broke the silence. The spell was ruined, the music no longer heard by either. "Looks like we've arrived at the castle. You can leave your purse and jacket in the car. You won't need them. Ready, Lucile?" Before she could reply, Red had grabbed his stingy brim fedora and left the car. Liz took a deep breath and stepped out as well when Dembe opened her door. The fresh air felt pleasant against her heated skin. Let's get this over with. Just breath in and breath out.
Her brain finally caught up with her body after a minute or two as a thought struck her. Who the hell is Lucile…?
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Everything can be found on my Tumblr acc under Fanfiction
Music:
Car: Louis Armstrong instrumental
Soft Jazz Sexy Instrumental Relaxation Saxophone
Liz: Natalie Brown – Confused
Liz/Red: Emika – Wicked game
Quotes from the books: Art of seduction & The gender of modernity
Interesting reads you could also listen to AOS on YouTube. If you have 5 hours to spare. Lizzie's type is The Siren and Red is The Charismatic and/or The Rake ;-)
I had to cut ch2/3 in half, as it was almost 9000 words. So this chapter was more about their frame of minds. Thought? Comments? I would love to read them…