Thank you guys so much for your lovely reviews. I was feeling a bit afraid to keep updating, but I seem to have found my courage back. I do hope you come to enjoy this one. Thank you for such lovely encouragement!

Again, I'm sorry for any mistakes or grammar.

Chapter Nine

Liz bustled through the door straight into Reddington's hotel room, a whirlwind in female form. She felt edgy and ready for murder- the worst possible case scenario.

Sweat was clinging to her brows from having ran from her house all the way to the hotel he was staying at. Seeing a woman at a ridiculous hour of the night running in just her nightgown attracted a lot of attention from cars and people still out and about in the streets, and she couldn't even count on two hands the amount of times people had turned and given her a funny look, no less the number of times a car horn would honk at her as she had passed them.

Some part of her had expected to find Reddington asleep. Some part of her hoped he was, so that she could rudely wake him and piss him off. Only he wasn't. She searched around the room and found him standing by the window, peering out into the street, his back facing her, still dressed in the dressy white shirt, vest, and navy blue trousers he wore earlier during the day.

For a second it threw her off, and she couldn't remember why she had come in the first place. But then he spoke, without even so much as turning from the window to face her. Maybe the heavy breathing noises she was making had announced her, or maybe he had eyes in the back of his head. She wasn't sure which.

He said, in a knowing low tone of voice, "You've discovered something curious on your phone, haven't you, Lizzie?"

She felt her breath hitch in her throat at his comment; Red never failed to unnerve her. It was as if he could read her mind sometimes, and his comment left her with nowhere to go conversationally for a few minutes as she tried to calm her breathing down. Her chest was rising and falling from the exertion of running to his hotel room. Once it calmed down a decent bit, she slipped a hand in her pocket, pulling out her cell phone. So he did know about the pictures. He was probably the one responsible of taking them.

"Were you the one that took them?" she asked, her voice high. "Was it you? Were you the one that took the pictures?"

"Why does it even matter who took them, Lizzie?"

"Because I have a right to know! It's my body, for Christ sake!" She was starting to shout now but it was having no power or effect on him. He didn't bother turning around to face her, and that was irritating most of all. She was screaming at his back. "Tell me, you were there! You remember everything that happened, so tell me right now!"

"The truth is... who was responsible for taking the pictures doesn't even matter, Lizzie. What matters is-"

"I don't care! It matters to me!" She cut him off loudly.

Annoyed enough by him not facing her direction, she stormed over towards where he was standing, grabbed him by the forearm, and spun him around roughly, pushing him lightly so his back and shoulders were pressed up against the glass of the window. She searched his face angrily with her eyes, yet he was giving nothing away. He looked calm as a summer's breeze-less day, and as if it was next to nothing for her to be yelling at him. The only thing he did look was tired, which was understandable given how late in the night it was. But she could see nothing there in his expression that told her what he was feeling about all of this, about her coming to his room screaming at him like this.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you! I'm tired of this, all of it! I want answers and I want them now, goddamn it! Give them to me!"

She oddly enough felt like a child demanding her favorite toy back from an adult. She knew yelling was not going to help the situation, especially not when it came to Reddington, but it was how she naturally responded when angered.

Catching her off-guard, he took a step forward closer towards her and her right hand curled up into a fist automatically. She both sensed and feared that he was about to do something to her. She was two inches taller than him, and yet, knowing Red, she knew what he was capable of when he was being pushed hard enough or when he was feeling threatened. He made it clear what he was doing when he moved further and further away from her towards the mini bar, deliberately not showing his back to her, keeping his eyes on hers.

She knew he was doing that so he could watch her at all times. She was not above and beyond attacking him when his back was to her and catching him unprepared, so obviously he was not taking any risks tonight.

"Drink, Lizzie?" He rummaged around, setting two glass tumblers on the counter. "I'm having one."

When she didn't bother answering, he pulled open a bottle of scotch and poured her a glass anyway. The simple action made Liz's pulse throb. Was he that blind? Was he deaf, even? She didn't come to his hotel room for a nightcap. She went there for answers to her questions; Answers she has wanted all day ever since last night happened.

"You know I didn't come all the way here for a nightcap," she retorted bitterly. "I came here for answers. I'm not leaving until I get them."

"Then you'll be staying the full night, I take it," Red replied carelessly, taking a sip of his drink. "Excellent. You can take the bed, and if it makes you feel more comfortable, I'll take the couch." He made a deep noise at the base of his throat, as if he just only recalled something. "Of course, it's a bit silly if we don't sleep in the same bed together, wouldn't you think? Certainly after last night. I believe it's no secret just how much the pair of us equally enjoyed that, Lizzie." He went to take another sip of his drink, stopped just when the rim of the glass was near his lips, then he added offhandedly, "I vaguely remember your fingernails scraping down my back when we woke. That was fun."

He appeared as if he was trying his hardest not to smile after the comment so she knew he was doing it on purpose. When he made comments like this, cryptic and teasing ones, it tended to piss her off even more. And if that was his goal, he had succeeded with the attempt.

Son of a bitch!

"I think this has all gone on long enough." She wanted to find something to hurl at him, but instead, she reached over and grabbed the glass of scotch he had poured for her. The need for a hard, strong drink got the better of her. After what happened last night, what with the cannabis in the brownies, she couldn't help inspecting the contents in the glass suspiciously. "I hope there isn't anything illegal in here?"

"There isn't, I assure you. There's no substances smuggled in there. It's just a lovely blend of scotch."

"Well, I hope so." She took a cautious sip and, as far as she could tell, it was nothing but alcohol. Potent with a horrible aftertaste. "Out of all of this, I've learned never to eat or drink anything in your hotel room without asking first."

"Well, yes. That is certainly a wise way to go about it."

Unsure of what else to say, she moved over towards the couch and sat on the edge while taking another sip of the scotch. She kept Red constantly in her sights as he moved towards the space beside her. He untucked the tail of his shirt out from his trousers before sitting with a heavy sigh, stretching out his legs in front of him. A strange silence fell over the pair of them while they each sipped at their drinks. When Liz sat back against the sofa, she turned and discovered that Red was watching her, almost contemplatively.

"What?" she asked, self-conscious. "Why're you looking at me that way?"

A silent laugh shook him as his lips curled. "I'm merely trying to store this moment mentally for safekeeping."

"Store this moment? Why the hell for?"

"You," he explained, without hesitation, his eyes boring into hers. "It's certainly not every day that a furious woman barges into my hotel room dressed in barely any articles of clothing but her night gown. Elizabeth Keen; She'll huff, and she'll puff, and she most certainly will succeed in blowing your house down."

Liz digested his words down for a moment. "Yeah, well, I have to say this is a novelty for me, too," she admitted reluctantly, with a shrug. "Coming here, dressed like this. But something tells me that this was exactly what you wanted from me in the first place, wasn't it? You intentionally were trying to drive me crazy by not being straight-forward in answering me about what happened when I stayed with you last night. Well, here I am. I'm here for answers, and I'm not gonna go anywhere until you give me them."

"And what was the question again?"

"What happened between us last night? Tell me for real, this time."

Red stood up with a heavy sigh, turning his back on her again while he strode leisurely towards the window again.

"I suppose, you can take consolation in knowing that, no, nothing truly happened, Lizzie. I certainly wouldn't ever dream of taking advantage, and I don't step in where I know I am unwanted." Reaching the window, he shifted slightly while resting a shoulder against the glass to meet her gaze steadily. He sounded nothing but both earnest and sincere, relieving her. "Well, aside from the naughty game of strip poker and the cannabis brownies, of course. And the pictures of you parading around in your bra and panties while wearing my hat and glasses which, yes, were taken by Dembe with the camera on your mobile cellular device." He said the words without preamble whatsoever, leaving her unprepared, but at least he was at last revealing everything to her.

"So we never did end up doing anything at all last night?" She asked slowly, just to be sure. "That's what you're saying?"

"Exactly, yes." Tearing his eyes away from hers to peer outside the window into the pitch black darkness outside, Liz watched Red as he lifted his glass and drained the very last contents of the scotch down completely. His back facing her, he moved to place his empty glass on the mantelpiece of the unlit fireplace. "So congratulations, Lizzie. Beauty never slept with the beast last night." She couldn't see his face, because he was glancing outside the window again, but Liz thought she detected a bitter, tart edge there in his tone.

She expected to feel relieved and weightless at his confession; His reassurance that they hadn't done anything too bad last night. Yet, she hardly felt relieved at all. Especially after talking the possibilities of sleeping with Reddington over with Ressler, she had actually found herself warming up to the idea, ironically enough. It wasn't a disturbing or disgusting notion on her anymore. Her heart swelled with an emotion she couldn't quite identify. After a second, it occurred to her that she was actually feeling disappointment. She was feeling disappointed.

"The beast?" She repeated, baffled. "Are you really referring to yourself as the beast in this situation?"

She heard the dry chuckle he gave out. "Well, that's what I am to you, aren't I? The hideous beast? The monster? Well, I'm very glad to put you at ease."

Liz lifted her glass and gulped in the rest of her scotch, cringing as it burned in her throat on the way down. "At first, I saw you that way. A monster," she admitted. "Then I realized you were only doing what you had to do, in saving my life. But honestly, I don't feel that way anymore, Red. I mightn't show it, but I am thankful for everything that you've done. I do appreciate it, despite... not showing it most of the time."

"There's also something else." His next words were deeper, filled with hesitation.

"What else? What else did we do?"

Red was silent for an unnervingly long moment. Just when Liz was getting ready to open her mouth, to pressure him into coming out with it, he said, "We kissed." A numb shock rippled through her at that. "Well, you kissed me. I gladly returned it." He gave out a shuddering intake of breath. "Good Lord, Lizzie. I haven't been kissed like that by a woman in years..."

Oh. She drew in a breath, then tried not to show any reaction when he turned on his side from the window to peer at her. For some reason, Liz felt afraid to meet his eyes, so she kept her eyes cast downward to the empty glass in her hands instead. "Must have been the brownies, that's all. The... the cannabis in Dembe's brownies."

It was the only logical explanation she could come up with; Well, the only explanation she wanted to let herself believe. It was a half-assed excuse, though. She knew the true reason why it had probably happened, in her instigating a kiss last night. It was just, apparently, with the cannabis from the brownies being in her system, it had lowered her inhibitions and made her a lot braver than she usually was when it came to acknowledging her feelings.

"Oh, hardly. I hardly think the meager amount of cannabis in Dembe's brownies had any influence on what happened either way. I think you know that too, don't you, Lizzie?" Red's voice had taken on a strange timbre. As if it was laced with things left unspoken, hidden meanings.

Still trying not to show any outwards emotion in response, Liz bent down to place her empty glass on the carpet near her boots. She couldn't help that telling sign of her heart speeding up, however. "I... I think its probably best that I go. Tom will probably be worried that I-"

"-Tom doesn't know that you are here, does he, Lizzie? Tom's still asleep, unaware that you have even left the house to come here."

God, she hated him. Hated him for doing this, for being able to read her mind so clearly. Yet it thrilled her on some deep, dark, and pervasive level. He could get her so irritated sometimes, yet it was never all the more arousing, the fact that he could.

"That's not true," she protested, forcing herself to stand. "I don't know what the hell it is that you're trying to imply of me, but you're wrong. I'm leaving." She got halfway towards the door before she felt a sudden nagging urge to shove Red up against the window again. Shove him and kiss him, not particularly in that order.

She felt such a conflicting range of emotions smack her brutally; On one hand, she was pissed off at him for having kept her guessing for a whole full day into what had happened last night. He had gotten her worked up with different scenarios, to the point where she was stressing with whether or not they had actually done the deed together; As it turned out, they hadn't. They had simply kissed, though that was a big moment within itself. He had been driving her crazy all day, with both his evasiveness and all of his cryptic comments. Shoving him against the window would have been very satisfying, as a way of retaliation, for that reason alone.

So that was exactly what she did.

Thinking to hell with it all, she whirled back around to face him, slipped in close enough to grab him by the collar of his shirt, and with a strength that she never realized was within her, she shoved him back up against the window again. She heard the back of his skull knock against it, which caused Red to close his eyes tightly in pain, before he opened them to meet hers again. Liz's chest was heaving and she could feel herself shuddering violently.

Red did nothing in response but simply stare at her, breathing heavily himself, his arms loose at his sides.

In that moment, Liz recognized the full-blown love/hate relationship she had with him. She hated him yet, at the same time, she both needed and cared for him deeply. Both sides were difficult within her to reconcile.

Her eyes kept alternating, from his eyes, to his puckered lips. She had no idea where to look right now. "So that's simply it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level. She wasn't quite sure she believed him. "We kissed, and that's it? You were making a bigger deal out of it than necessary, just with the sole intention of driving me insane with wondering?"

He nodded slightly, his eyes peering deeply into hers. "In a nutshell, yes, that is exactly what I did. But in my defense, it was a very big deal to me. The... the kissing."

Just for the sake of it and to make herself feel better, Liz slipped her fingers under the collar of his shirt to get better hold before pulling him towards her only to shove him back into the glass again. He took in a deep unsteady breath at that, his eyes closing briefly before opening again. What she saw come over his expression startled her. Amusement glistening his eyes, the corners of his lips turned upwards. He was enjoying this- the fact that she had him literally squished up against the window. It was the most aggravating in the world.

"What?" she hissed in irritation. "What on earth could be so funny to you about any of this?"

Red chewed on the inside of his cheek as he glanced away from her for a moment, being deliberately thoughtful, it seemed. "It's funny how all you simply have to do is look at someone to know. With certain people, you can just tell. It reeks out of every inch of their pores."

"Know what, Red? What are you talking about?"

"This is your brand of foreplay, isn't it, Lizzie?" That irritatingly smug smile was on his face. "Well, fortunately for you, I happen to also be infected with quite the same thing."

Her brand of foreplay? The man was seriously losing his mind.

"You're sick," she muttered, trying to sound more affronted than she truly felt. It was disturbing, how close he was to the point. There was something about this that she found strangely exciting and thrilling, having him confined to the glass. She didn't realize she was being so obvious about it.

"Hmm, perhaps." He smacked his lips together, his eyes sliding down her body. "But the signs are certainly all there."

"Signs? What signs? What the hell are you-" Instantly, Liz came to regret bothering to ask that.

Red was stronger than her physically, no doubt about it. Before she could even process what was happening, he used all of his weight to push her off-guard. Next thing she became aware of, was that their situation had been reversed; Her back slammed up against the window and she stiffened as Red had somehow managed to wrench both her arms up above her head. He held them in place with an arm pinning them and no matter how hard she tried to wiggle, it was pointless. She was trapped.

Her frantic movements to get free only served to excite him. He laughed; a somehow seductive, deep and breathless chuckle. Their faces were barely inches close, all of his body weight leaning against hers. She felt one of his legs move to slide in between hers, the fabric of his trousers brushing against the skin on part of her upper thighs. Somehow, along with it all, her flannel night gown had come loose, the sash that held it all together strewn apart. A lot of skin was probably being exposed to him, embarrassingly enough.

She became horribly aware of her bodies reaction to it then; The heavy, laborious breathing. While she knew she was most definitely not in any type of serious danger when it came to Reddington, she still felt a frightening thrill ripple through her.

"Still think I'm the sick one now, Lizzie?" Red's voice had taken on a strange edge; Deeper, hoarse. Breathless. "Increased breathing rate. Dilation of the pupils. Hmm, those seem the signs of an aroused woman to me, wouldn't you think?"

"No. What I truly think is that you talk too much, Reddington. You love the sound of your own voice too much." Denial seemed the best way to approach. There would be no way in hell that she would ever willingly admit just how much so Red was effecting her right now.

Damn it, though. He was right. She was enjoying this, especially because it was him that it was happening with. Maybe this was exactly her brand of foreplay, after all. And while nothing severe may have happened last night, there was a possibility it was going to happen tonight.

a/n: Sorry if this bad writing. Or a disappointment. :) Thank you for reading, its always appreciated.