Hey guys,

So sorry for taking so long to update. This story is super silly, I know. Still, hope you enjoy regardless. I guess this also hints at how weird my mind is, haha. :) I own nothing to do with the Blacklist by the way, this is just for personal fun. Also, something to kill the time while anxiously waiting for the first season of the show to be released on disk.

Chapter Four

Liz was growing increasingly restless as they entered the Thai restaurant. It was fairly crowded at this hour of the morning and she had doubts on whether she could refrain from shouting and raising her voice at Reddington in front of everyone. She wanted to shout and scream and stomp her feet. She wanted to inflict severe damage on him, which wouldn't have been the most suitable thing to do in a public restaurant. So with great restraint, she kept her hands to herself and slumped furthest away from him in her seat. Unfortunately for her, Red chose the seat near hers, while Dembe sat across from them, and even simply hearing the man's voice was beginning to become dangerously grating on her.

Red dragged his seat nearby hers and rested his arm against the back of her chair, definitely too close for comfort. "This is my girlfriend Lizzie," she heard him announce proudly to anyone who would listen in the restaurant and she growled internally. She was willing to bet a limb that he was doing it on purpose to further aggravate her. If so, he was succeeding.

She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to ignore the man sitting next to her, as best she could. It wasn't easy, however. He kept trying to engage in trivial conversation with her and Liz felt as if the top of her head going to blow off any minute now. The faster she got away from Red, the easier it would be. She found herself constantly checking her wrist watch, hoping the hour would go quickly. Only it seemed as if the hands of time weren't cooperating with her this morning.

"Checking your watch every five minutes isn't going to make the time go any faster, Lizzie. Now what do you want?"

"How about valid answers to my questions?"

He patted the menu in front of her loudly with his hand. "No, I meant from the menu, Lizzie."

"I didn't come here to eat anything," she grumbled under her breath. "I'm not hungry. I don't even know why I agreed to come here with you in the first place."

"Well, it is time for breakfast, after all. People do usually eat at this time."

"As I said, I'm not hungry. I've seemed to have lost my appetite. You keeping things from me tends to do that."

"Then you must be skinny as a rake, Lizzie," Red said with infuriating amusement. "Let me reassure you and make you feel more at ease: There are always things I am keeping from you. This time is certainly no different. Now, what are you having for breakfast? Let's talk this over before the waitress makes her rounds."

She turned and looked him over sharply. "I just told you that I'm not hungry," she muttered through clenched teeth. "But what I will have is a nice cup of coffee. That's it. That's all I want."

"Suit yourself then, Lizzie." Her eyes remained on him as he consulted the menu with interest. Liz found herself wishing her eyes had the potential to simmer his skin, causing him sheer agony. If only. The waitress, an extraordinarily tall woman with a rather deep voice approached them, and Liz ordered her coffee. Once she had taken down all of their orders and had moved across the room away from them, Red leaned over slightly in his seat. "That waitress," he began in a hushed whisper, shaking his head in what Liz assumed was amazement, and Liz turned and looked briefly as the tall Thai woman lingered around. "Don't be too obvious with looking, but she used to be a man. Well, she still very much is one. She still has a penis, but she prefers to be thought of as a woman now."

"Um, okay." Liz's mind worked slowly to process that as she observed the woman more curiously. Where was Red going with this? "And this concerns me why?"

"I just assumed you would like to know, if you were wondering why she looks rather... masculine. It's because she is really a man, but she hasn't gone through the sexual reassignment surgery yet. Marvelous how feminine she looks, isn't it?"

"Okay, Red." She huffed out an incredulous laugh. "Well, thanks for that useless and irrelevant piece of information."

"You're very welcome," he shot back, just as sarcastically.

"Why did you even bother telling me that? I mean, she's not really a woman. She hasn't had gender reassignment surgery yet. So what? What does her having a penis have to do with anything?"

"Appearances can be wickedly deceiving, Lizzie."

"How do you know she still has a penis anyway?" Not that she cared how he did. He tended to know some of the most eccentric people.

"Oh, you shouldn't ask." Red laughed, a deep chuckle. "That's a story for another time, Lizzie. Now doesn't seem like the proper time with her standing in the room. Perhaps later."

Their orders finally arrived and Red had ordered what looked like a yellow soup with prawns in it. She smiled politely at the waitress (who was apparently transgender) as she put the coffee she had ordered on the table and Liz found herself quietly envious over Red's soup he had ordered. It smelt delicious and her mouth salivated at the sight of it. So much for not being hungry...

"Would you like to have a try, Lizzie?" Red asked her while he picked up his spoon, as if reading the jealous look on her face or somehow knowing what she was thinking. "You're missing out on some magnificent food. I don't understand why you insisted on just having a coffee when the food here is perfectly good. Why don't you have a try?"

"I'm fine with my coffee, but thank you for offering," she declined as good-mannered as she could. She cupped her hands over her hot mug of coffee and brought it in closer. Her coffee didn't look as appealing as his soup, that was for sure.

"Nonsense, Lizzie. Try it." Eagerly filling the spoon up with the liquid, he guided it towards where her mouth was carefully. "Go on. Try it, Lizzie."

He was going to spoon-feed her? Seriously? Who does that to a grown woman?

But unable to resist, she leaned over and opened her mouth, closing it over the spoon and slurping the liquid in noisily. It tasted just as delicious as it looked. Spicy and full of flavor. "Mm," she said, just to make her delight known. "It's very nice."

"You want more?" As if he was excited by feeding her, Red went to give her some more, his face full of pleasure.

"Please no more, Red," she protested firmly, shaking her head when he held the spoon near her lips again. "It's yours. You eat it all yourself."

"Just have one more spoon full, Lizzie," he insisted, as if it was an outrage for her not to. "Would it really kill you? Come on."

"It's your soup. I'm not eating it all on you!"

"Go on, Lizzie!"

Red was still holding the spoon filled with the liquid near her mouth and, having a sudden explosion of volatile irritation overcome her, she acted without thinking in knocking his hand away from her face. Quick as a blink, the liquid from the spoon trickled down and splattered onto his vest and Red yipped in annoyance at having a precious piece of clothing spoiled. Crap, what the hell was wrong with her today?

"Sorry," she apologized honestly, fumbling to find a napkin or anything to help soak the moisture up off his vest. Just as she was about to stand and ask for a napkin, Red pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and she grabbed it out of his hand and attempted to mop up the mess she had made ruefully, dabbing here and there at the material of his vest. "God, I don't know what overcame me just then. Evidently I wasn't thinking before I did it." She grimaced as she realized that it had left a yellow stain and prayed he would somehow find it within himself to forgive her. "Sorry, I think I've ruined your vest. I don't know what I was thinking..."

"Are you sure you didn't just do that on purpose, Lizzie?"

"Why would I do that?" she asked defensively. "I might be angry with you because you're keeping what happened from me, but I'm not that angry. It was an accident."

"Oh, I'm sure it was an accident," he retorted wryly. "Next thing you'll be throwing your scalding coffee over me and claiming that was an accident as well."

She couldn't help but smile. "That's very tempting, but don't give me any ideas to encourage me. I'm still waiting by the way..."

Red's eyes met hers as she kept wiping furiously with the handkerchief against the stain, with little success. "Waiting for what, Lizzie?"

"You know what for. For you to actually tell me why it is that I woke up in your hotel room this morning after having stayed the night. Why is it that I'm unable to remember anything that happened? What happened between us, really?"

He gave her a small smile at her tone. "Really, Lizzie? You want to know what really happened?"

"Yes, tell me what really happened. And please don't feed me anymore lies or cryptic comments. I want the truth, all of it. Just come out and say it already."

His eyes remained on hers silently for a few minutes, as if he was mentally ruminating on what to say and how to phrase everything correctly so she could better understand. Liz could feel her chest tightening and swelling with hope at finally knowing. Then he said, in a soft tone, "You said you remembered coming to me about Tom? That I was right about everything I had told you?"

"Yes, I definitely remember that. I remember coming to you and..." She paused, trying to get over her embarrassment. "The music box. The song my father played me. I cried in front of you, and you comforted me. Assured me everything was going to work out fine. And that's as far as I remember." She tossed her head helplessly. "I don't remember going back to your hotel room or getting undressed and sleeping in your bed?"

"You were inconsolable, Lizzie. You fell asleep in my arms, and when I suggested on getting you home, you told me that the very last thing you wanted to do was have to endure seeing Tom. So I called Dembe and we both took you back to the hotel."

Liz realized she was holding her breath as she waited eagerly for the full run-down on what had happened last night. She felt tense and anxious at possibly hearing something she didn't want to have to hear.

"And then what?" She got out in a hurried voice. "You took me back to your hotel, and that's why I can't remember it, because I was exhausted and I crashed in your arms. So what happened next?"

"You were asleep in the bed for an hour or two, and then you came out of the bedroom just as Dembe and I were finishing playing cards. Then you demanded all three of us play strip poker, heaven knows why." He laughed in bewilderment while Liz didn't know what to think of what he was telling her. Why would she, of all people, demand them play strip poker? It just didn't seem like something she would do. "You lost fairly quickly, but we changed the rules around a bit so that you wouldn't have to take all of your clothes off. We decided that wasn't fair, Lizzie." Then Red added, as if it would make her feel so much better, "You just stripped down to your undergarments."

"So that's why I woke up this morning in just my bra and underwear?" she asked slowly. At least now she was finally beginning to make sense of it all. "Because you, me, and Dembe decided to play strip poker and I lost?"

"That is exactly how it went down, Lizzie. Give or take a few extra events we really don't have time for now."

Red had pulled up his shirtsleeve and was checking his watch. Copying him, Liz did the same, both pleased and disappointed it was already time for her to have to head into work. She had gotten some answers, though. While she was positive there was a lot more things to come, what she had heard so far wasn't half as bad as she had expected, aside from learning that she had stripped out of her clothes in front of the two men.

"So who was second to losing?" she asked curiously. "You or Dembe?"

"Definitely Dembe," Red said.

Dembe suddenly spoke up from his seat, "It was Raymond, he just doesn't want for you to have to think that I am a better player at strip poker than he is. We cancelled you out of the game because you were already as naked as you could be, so it was Raymond against me. I won, and Raymond had to strip out of his clothes. You both were as much naked as one another, then the real games began." Dembe looked very amused and Liz was still surprised by how talkative the man could be when he wanted.

But his last comment had her reeling. The real games began? What real games?

It was embarrassing enough that the two men had to see her with most of her gear off. She must have really let her hair down last night.

"What's this about the real games beginning?" she demanded, eyeing the two suspiciously. "What do you mean by that? What else happened?"

"Er, we really should be going, Lizzie." Red was already standing and collecting his hat from where he had placed it on top of the table. "We don't want to be late."

Dembe stood as well, retrieving the car keys out of his pocket. Liz reached down and drained most of her coffee in less than two gulps. She had a feeling she'd be needing all her energy today.

She turned to look at Red, giving him the most menacing look she could muster. "You will tell me everything that happened, whether I have to beat it out of you or not."

Red had slipped on his pair of amber-lens glasses, so she couldn't make out his eyes properly. But he looked rather amused considering, and hardly intimidated by her threat one bit. "I love it when you act all flirtatious with me, Lizzie," he said, mirth in his voice. "But be patient."

Liz felt her cheeks flare with heat. "I'm not being in any way flirtatious with you, Red. I'm telling you how it is. Sooner or later, you're going to have to tell me the full story." She met Dembe's eyes with just as much of a hard look as the one she had given Red, and just like Red, Dembe was irritatingly unaffected. "Both of you. We're not done with this yet." In a way she knew would push Red over the edge, being as fastidious as he was about his clothing, she deliberately let her eyes fall and linger on the stains on his vest. "You know, I'm not really sorry about ruining your vest, not even a little bit," she muttered stiffly. "Call it terrible of me, but I just... I'm not. Actually, its quite satisfying."

A smug smile played along her lips as she turned and gave him the cold shoulder.

Take that, Reddington! Two can play at this game!

She was fully determined to get straight to the bottom of this. She didn't care how low she had to go to know the full story of what happened last night. She was willing to do whatever she had to do necessary, even if it meant committing homicide.

I don't know if anyone is still interested in this story? Sorry if its crazy :P If you have any suggestions, please do let me know, as it would be most welcome.