Chapter 3: Steel


Disclaimer: Oddly, I still don't own The Blacklist. I thought they would have given it to me by now.


It started with a request.

"Let me take you to dinner."

Liz gave her debonaire partner an inquiring smile. It was a Tuesday. They never got together outside of work on a Tuesday. "What's the occasion?" she asked, stuffing her current case documents into her trunk. She dropped the lid and the trunk latched securely with a loud click. Turning to lean against it, Liz crossed her arms and ankles casually as she waited for his response.

Red smiled, eyes sliding to the ground as his hands found his pockets. "Don't tell me you don't know what day it is, Lizzie... I'm hurt."

Cocking her head, Liz furrowed her brow while she caught his unreadable gaze. Pondering on it a moment, she realized she had no idea of to what he was referring. What she did know, however, was that he was only playing to her sympathetic nature when he said he was hurt by it. "Okay... I'll bite. Tell me what day it is."

Sighing, Red shook his head. "Really, you wound me." He smiled, though, all teeth and forgiveness. "It's the anniversary of the first time you began to show a little faith in me, exactly one year ago today."

There was silence as Liz's face slackened, mind lost to memory. She remembered the moment she finally realized beyond a shadow of a doubt that Red was in her corner, motivations aside - the lonely day he'd found her in the park. She'd clung to him like a lifeline in a raging river, and she'd never regretted it.

Finding her voice, she replied softly, "I guess it really has been a year. I'm... touched you would even remember that." She glanced at the tips of her shoes, self-conscious. "Thank you."

Red joined her on the trunk, their shoulders brushing together as he surveyed the lot, making sure no agents were watching them. He didn't see any, and Dembe would have alerted him if there were. "Of course I do, Lizzie. It was an important day for the both of us."

Liz couldn't help the genuine smile that lit her face. She bumped his side, earning a lopsided smile in return.

"So," he asked again, catching her eye, "care to celebrate with me?"

"Yes," she said, pushing off her perch and twirling gracefully on her heel to face him. "Where are we headed?"

"Well," Red began, rising also, "for starters, I'll have Dembe take us to my place-"

"Wait, I think I'd like a change of clothes," she interrupted, but Red was shaking his head.

"Don't worry about it. It's all taken care of."

Liz frowned, looking very confused. "All taken care of? What do you mean?"

Starting toward his chauffeured car, he replied, "I mean exactly that. Trust me and come along."

She watched him walk briskly past, staring at his retreating back as she wondered what he had planned. She had a sneaking suspicion that he'd done something he shouldn't have as she hurried to catch up, falling into step beside him.


She was right, of course. Liz held up the dazzling silk chiffon dress, mouth open in awe. The floor-length number was titanium gray with a sweetheart neckline. Sheer fabric rose above the cups, extending into three-quarter length sleeves. An intricate black beadwork design wove up from the waist, flowing between the breast where it intersected a dark jewel before branching out onto the neck and sleeves. It was a simply stunning dress...

It had to have cost a fortune.

Liz glanced at Red, who stood near the door to watch the reveal of his gift, then back to the dress. She did this several times, mouth working silently to form sounds she couldn't produce. This was too much.

A minute later, after the shock had worn off, she told him as much.

"Nonsense," he said, coming to stand by the dazed profiler. He took the garment from her hand, holding it to the light to see the beads shimmer. "You're going to look beautiful."

"I-I can't believe you bought this, Red. It's gorgeous, but-"

"It's gorgeous, and it's yours," he insisted, passing it back to her. "I'll not hear any of that 'I can't possibly' or 'you really shouldn't have' malarky. I did, and it's done." Red rested his hand on her arm briefly before heading for the door. "There are shoes and accessories on the bed as well. Now, I'm going downstairs to the library. You may use the shower down the hall to freshen up if you wish, but you should be dressed and ready for an evening of fine dining by six o'clock. Our reservations are at seven." Without awaiting a reply, he exited, pulling the door shut behind him.

Liz stared at the closed door for a time, mind racing. Then her eyes raked over the dress again, taking it in with the surreal feeling of being out of body. It was beautiful, but she felt guilty accepting it with no kind gesture in return. But knowing Reddington, he would turn down anything she offered in exchange out of principle.

Aside from that, there was also the thought that this was more than a friendly gesture, anniversary or not. Friends don't give friends extravagant dresses. The gift of clothing was often a familial tradition or an exchange between lovers. A man giving clothing to a woman of no relation, especially of the formal variety, implied a desire to admire her. The idea that he wanted to run his eyes over her body in this skin-tight dress brought a hint of color to her cheeks.

The thought that she wouldn't mind had her rushing to the closet to hang it up before she dropped it, taking deep breaths to calm her wildly beating heart.

She just had to breathe. She had to breathe and evaluate the situation carefully.

If she accepted the attire and the dinner, she also had to accept the feelings behind them. But if she backed out now, it would be a clear refusal of his affections, which might send them all the way back to square one.

Liz sat heavily on the bed. She had an important decision to make.


Red glanced up from his reading at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. It was a quarter till six. He stood, setting his book on the end table, and walked to the entryway. A mixture of emotions flooded him as he watched Liz descend. The dress fit her perfectly, outlining every line and curve of her body spectacularly. She'd done-up her hair in an elegant french twist, which accented the dangly onyx earrings he'd chosen. The black shoes he'd selected - high and open with thin strapping - paired well with the beaded clutch in her right hand. When she reached the end, her eyes shyly met his, and he deciphered her uncertainty in a framework of long, dark lashes.

She was breathtaking.

"As I knew you would be," Red remarked quietly. At her confused look, he said, "Absolutely stunning, Lizzie."

"Thanks." She blushed, averting her gaze to the floor.

Realizing his scrutiny was making her nervous, he excused himself. "I'm going to change quickly and then we'll leave. It should only take about ten minutes."

Liz nodded. Her eyes followed him down the hallway until he disappeared into one of the rooms. It took her most of the ten minutes to calm the butterflies in her stomach. It wouldn't do to act any differently around him. When he returned, impeccably adorned in a three piece suit that complimented her attire, she managed a smile that didn't feel awkward and took his proffered arm, allowing him to lead her out to the car.


They were seated at a private table in a lovely Italian restaurant. Red had ordered for them fluently in the language, choosing the lobster ravioli for himself, and the chicken and broccoli ziti for her. Their dinner was sublime - delicious food interspersed with easy conversation. They sat sipping Pinot Grigio, the bottle already half gone as their waiter carted off their plates.

"So I took off with him for three days," Liz was saying, mirth dancing in her eyes. "My foster family was sick with worry."

Red chuckled, grinning at her good humor. "My, you really were a rebel, weren't you?"

"I had my moments," she admitted with a smile. "We spent most of that time partying with his garage band - really, really bad alternative rock - by day, and prowling noisy clubs by night. But he brought me back when I wouldn't..." She paused, feeling that finishing her statement would be inappropriate for the atmosphere.

Red finished it for her, though more delicately. "When he realized you weren't easy?"

Liz nodded with a light blush. In hindsight, the situation could have gotten out of hand. She was lucky. "I didn't mind, though. I was never cut out to be a bad girl."

"I admire that about you." He raised his glass to her, taking another sip of his wine.

Her smile became shy, and she covered it up with a sip herself. The wine was doing wonders to take the edge off her nerves, but there were still moments when she remembered that this evening might not be a mere social call.

After a short lull in conversation, Liz said, "The meal was excellent, Red. Thanks for bringing me here."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." His eyes studied her over the rim of his glass. He wasn't a fool. He knew that she had surmised that there was more to this night than just a celebration of camaraderie. The fact that she had come here at all suggested that the idea didn't scare her completely. He just needed to find a way to test the waters...

The answer came almost immediately as the pleasant notes of Vivaldi dissolved into the opening chords of "A Volte Il Cuore." He set down his drink, rising from his chair. Catching Liz's questioning gaze, he extended his hand. "Dance with me."

She hesitated with a glance around the room. She wasn't a great dancer. But they were in a private area of the room, so any mistakes would be privy only to Red. Deciding to chance it, she placed her hand in his, letting him lead her to the open area on their balcony. He spun her effortlessly into his arms, encasing her right hand in his between their bodies. His other slipped to her waist, just over her hip as she held onto his shoulder. She smiled at him as they began to sway.

Dancing wasn't the clumsy disaster she was expecting it to be. Red kept their steps smooth and easy, and Liz soon found herself relaxing and being swept away with the lyrics.

Sicchè null'altra veggio compagnia
Non V'accorgete dunque Voi
D'un talche muore
Di una simile agonia
A volte il cuore
A volte il cuore

The male vocal over the wistful notes of the orchestra was tender and romantic. She found herself absorbed in the words, even though they were rendered senseless by the language barrier.

"This song is nice..." she murmured, closing her eyes.

"It's Andrea Bocelli," he replied quietly. "Do you speak any Italian?"

She shook her head then opened her eyes in surprise as Red leaned forward, the smooth skin of his cheek gliding along hers. With his mouth by her ear, he translated the next verse in a whisper as the music flowed over them.

"Just tell me who
Do you want me to be
And I will be that man
I no longer can stop myself
From pleading for your love
Still, I'll try to win it
Sometimes the heart
Sometimes..."

He trailed off but remained close. Breathless with the ambiance and his presence, Liz untangled their hands and wound her arm around his neck to hold him in place. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, sliding her other arm around to grip his back. The silent sigh he released, hot against her neck, raised gooseflesh where it touched. She shivered when his free hand joined the other at her waist, running up her ribs one time before tightening and pulling her to him, flush. His arms then wove around her, securing her there snugly as the song ended, melting into a lovely instrumental piece.

Liz gazed out over the balcony into the main dining area, thinking about how the day had gone from routine to extraordinary. She wondered if any of the couples finishing their meals were having such a perfect evening; if any of their dates were as charming as the man in whose arms she was being held.

It didn't bother her to think of this as a date anymore. After she'd sat on the bed to consider her options, she'd realized she only really had one. Liz was attracted to the most wanted criminal, Raymond Reddington. She had been for at least the last six months. But the attraction had scared her. It could mean her job if the FBI ever caught wind. As it should; Red represented everything they worked so hard to rid the streets of. And despite all the villains he was helping to eliminate from the blacklist, Liz held no illusions that he was entirely turning over a new leaf.

Unlike her father, who made no more of his life than a littered path of destruction, Red was someone she could respect, if for no other reason than he was honest and committed to his decisions.

Liz shoved those thoughts from her mind. The only thing she wanted to concentrate on in this moment was the feel of his arms around her; the elevated beat of his heart that met her ear through his vest; the masculine, alluring scent of his cologne.

When the next song ended, Red didn't release her right away. He slowed them to a stop, lips brushing her hair.

"Red?" Liz mumbled.

His arms tightened fractionally. "Hmm?"

"Did..." She swallowed. "Did you mean for this... to be a date?"

She felt the muscles of his back tense. After a pregnant pause, he said, "It's whatever you want it to be, Lizzie."

Lifting her head, she met his green eyes, naked and vulnerable for her - only her - and regarded him solemnly. "I want it to be a date."

The smile that was revealed by those words was brilliant. He chuckled, bowing his head with a disbelieving shake. "Wonderful," was all he replied.

Liz laughed at his lack of eloquence, so unlike him. "Were you nervous?" she teased through a grin.

"Actually... yes." He fixed her with a look that still seemed a little baffled. "I planned this evening with the intent to... enamor you of the idea." Raising his hand, he swept it along her cheek, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're so pure, Lizzie, and I'm so..." What he wouldn't say hung heavy in the air between them. "I had hope, but I never really expected you to reciprocate."

"I won't lie, I... gave it a lot of thought," she said, casting her eyes down. "But you've been on your best behavior-"

"For you," he interjected.

"Yes, for me. And while I don't understand what makes me so special to you... I do feel special."

"You are." Red held her eyes with a mixture of sincerity and affection. "You're more special than you realize, and not only to me... but that you'll understand in time."

In time... Liz was used to these vague answers. They no longer worried her. Red would be there for her when the time came. She wouldn't be alone.

"So," Red began, reluctantly separating them, "are you ready to leave?" He always hated this moment, when he remembered that she would leave him, retreating to her own life. The evening, however, had to end somewhere. It wouldn't do to rush things.

Obviously drawing the same conclusion herself, Liz nodded hesitantly. "Yeah. Let's go."

Red took care of the check, leaving a better than usual tip for their waiter. The two then journeyed to his car, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm, where they spent the long ride back to her apartment chatting about disastrous dates they'd both had and feeling very young and buoyant.

When they pulled up outside her residence, Liz remembered the start of their day. She'd left her own car in the lot at work. "My car! I completely forgot," she moaned, leaning her head back against the seat.

Red exited the sedan, moving around to her door and opening it for her. She glanced up at him curiously as he extended his hand. "Already dealt with, Lizzie. I had Luli retrieve it for you earlier. I hope you don't mind my presumptuousness."

Thrown off-kilter, she tried to ask, "What about the-"

"Your purse and affects were gathered from my home and delivered with your vehicle. They should be in your trunk."

She should have known Red would be thorough. Of course her things would be conveniently here with her. She smiled, shaking her head as she took his offered hand. "Thanks," she said simply.

"Luli parked your car just across the street." He pointed to it, ensconced between the cars of the complex across the way. "It was the best she could do, given the late arrangement."

"It's fine," Liz assured, rising from the seat.

They strolled along the sidewalk up to the entrance of her apartment in silence, hand in hand. In front of the door, Liz turned to Red. "Thank you for tonight. For... everything," she finished lamely, still feeling undeserving of his luxurious gifts.

Red bowed before lifting her hand to his lips, planting a kiss over her knuckles. "It's my pleasure, Lizzie."

They shared a smile. Red tugged her hand, bringing her into his arms. Immediately, his lips found hers, soft but insistent. Liz gasped, expecting more of a lead-in to the kiss. The shock didn't stop her from returning it, however, winding her arms around his neck as desire spread white hot through her belly. She opened her mouth to him, inviting, and he slipped his tongue past her lips with a low, hungry groan. His hands pressed them close, one cradling the back of her head as he tasted her.

Eventually, Red slowed their kiss and pulled back. Her lips were swollen and entirely too irresistible. Paired with the obvious want in her eyes, Red decided he needed to leave.

"It's been a perfect evening, Lizzie," he began, kissing her hand once more before releasing it, "but I should be off before I'm tempted to muck this up." He regarded her seriously. "I want to do this right with you, so... Let's say goodnight, shall we?"

Even though she would much prefer to make him stay, Liz understood his trepidation. And the parts of her that weren't tapped into her primal urges agreed with him. She held his eyes for another drawn-out moment and then nodded haltingly, exposing her fragmented emotions. "Goodnight."

He took her in, radiant in finery and smiling sweetly just for him, for a few more seconds before stuffing his hands into his pockets and turning toward his car. He'd made it to the door when Liz called, "Raymond!" The sound of stiletto heels hastened across the concrete following her voice. He'd barely managed to turn back around in time to catch her as she launched into his arms, her lips somehow meshing perfectly with his as he fell against the car. An artful tongue slid past his incisors as he created a gap for her between his legs, large hands firm on her hips, keeping a necessary distance. Red sucked the probing muscle lightly, drawing out the citrus flavor of their wine.

When their breaths came in fast, uneven pants, Liz drew away. She smiled mischievously. "Sorry... I realized I wasn't finished kissing you."

He reflected the smile, saying, "You'll have plenty of opportunity to sneak kisses with me at work tomorrow, Lizzie, and I insist you take every one available."

"Oh, I plan to."

It ended with a promise.


Author's Note: Well, that ties it up. I can't say I'm satisfied with this chapter. Maybe you disagree. My main issue, I think, might be the fluff. I said there'd be mush, and... tada! Mush just doesn't sit right with these two in my mind. But it's what my fingers wanted to type, and I do so spoil them. Anyway, thanks for all the support - even to those who have read without leaving feedback. I'm just glad anyone will sit a while and read the crazy that comes out of my head. Really, you guys are awesome. If there are any grammer (or other) issues, please point them out. I would hope to improve.