Prompt: First Kiss

Original Sentence: n/a ( I missed the first couple of prompts.)

It started with a hug.

Red loved their hugs, those unexpected joys that came to him when he most needed them. He meant them as a comfort for her, but he suspected that they were more comforting to him. They were few and far between, so when presented with the opportunity to wrap his arms around her, he took full advantage of the situation… kissing her head… smelling her hair… holding her as close as he possibly could until he could feel her start to back away.

It was as torturous as it was soothing.

This particular embrace was no less wonderful and no less painful than all the others, but it was different. He had pulled her to him, his Lizzie, without thinking, without the usual worry that his caress would be unwelcome. There were very few times when he knew without a doubt that she needed him, and this was one of those times. Her father was gone. Tom was gone. Now, at the worst possible moment, her partner was gone too.

"I don't understand."

Lizzie didn't have to tell him what she didn't understand. Red didn't understand it either, how people could be so present in your life and in the blink of an eye be gone from it forever. It made no sense, and in a lot of ways it was unfair, but it was life and death was very much a part of it. He had long ago learned to accept it and deal with it, and now it was time to help Lizzie learn. The slight nuzzling into his shoulder prompted him to hold her tighter, though he reluctantly pulled back when she made a muffled noise into his shirt.

"Come again?"

"It doesn't seem right." Lizzie refused to meet his gaze, casting her eyes downwards at the stain she had left on his favorite shirt. Mascara and tears were a bitch to get out of pure cotton.

Running his hands up and down her arms in what he could only hope was a soothing fashion, Red tried to pull something resembling an explanation out of her. "What doesn't seem right?"

Tears ran down her cheeks and she still refused to meet his eyes. "He stepped in front of a bullet for me. For me! Ressler wasn't even supposed to be there! It wasn't FBI sanctioned. I put him in danger and he took a bullet for me! Why?" Her face was in his chest again, and her arms tightened almost painfully around him.

It was unbearable.

Slowly, gently, Red pushed against her again, steadying her with a firm hand on her arm and caressing her tearstained face with the other. She finally met his gaze, and there was something new in her eyes. Expectation. She expected him to make things better. She expected him to fix it. They were finally at a point where she trusted that he would take care of things. He truly hated to disappoint her, but he couldn't fix this. Nothing would bring back the dead.

But he could try to ease the guilt.

Gripping her beautiful face between his hands, he looked her straight in the eye and told her the only thing that could possibly make her feel any better…the truth.

"He did it…because you are worth it."

Lizzie quivered, trying desperately to shake her head no, but he held her still.

"You are worth it. You are worth living for and you're damn sure worth dying for. I know that. Maybe Donald knew that too."

The corners of Lizzie's mouth turned up unexpectedly, and Red dropped his hands to her shoulders, caressing her neck lightly with his fingers. Her pulse was strong and steady.

As it should be.

"Wow," Lizzie sighed, almost under her breath.

Red's brow furrowed. "Wow what?"

"You're willing to give Ressler credit for something. It must be true."

Wow indeed.

"I give Donald Ressler all the credit in the world…and my eternal gratitude." And it was true. If Red were the type to light candles and sing hymns he would do one for Ressler. He deserved that and more.

Looking down at the woman in his arms, Red was surprised to see her gazing back up at him, tears no longer swimming in her gorgeous blue eyes. Her teeth worried at her bottom lip… a nervous habit… and Red frowned. There was no reason for her to be nervous with him. She should have felt safe and secure in his arms and obviously he wasn't doing his job. Closing his eyes, he leaned in rest his forehead on hers, something he had always found oddly comforting, and was surprised when he made contact with something else.

Her lips.

She was kissing him.

It was chaste, really, her lips covering his for a fraction of a heartbeat before she seemingly lost her nerve and brought them down to his throat instead.

"Lizzie…" Red hissed, trying to regain control of the situation while Lizzie's tongue made contact with his skin. His fingers tightened on her shoulders and she responded in kind, sinking her teeth playfully into his flesh.

There were so many things he needed to say.

"You don't want this."

"You don't want me."

"You're sad and confused and I can't take advantage of that…"

He said nothing.

He moved instead.

His hands left the safety of her shoulders and traveled into uncharted territory. Her back… her waist… her hips… The swell of her ass called to him, but he exerted the only little bit of self control he had left and gripped her hips tighter instead.

"Come here."

It was almost a request, but Red took every word out of Lizzie's mouth as a command and he immediately obeyed, tilting his head down to meet her lips once more. This time their kiss was not chaste, nor was it brief. Her tongue slid between his lips slowly but without preamble, searching for an intimacy he was all too willing to provide. He silently praised her languid approach; it gave him time to explore and enjoy her bold exploration of his body. Apparently Lizzie had no qualms about where her hands should and should not wander, and Red chuckled warmly against her mouth as she made a grab for his ass.

Poor Ressler was all but forgotten.

Red would light a candle for him in the morning.

It was the least he could do, really.