Note: Last chapter of that fic. Certainly the most Lizzington chapter of the whole story. Hope that you enjoyed the journey. Thanks a lot to TheFirstFewChapters who reviewed the whole story. It's thanks to her that it looks nice and that the cat is back and purring.

It hadn't stopped raining for a couple of days. Reddington and Liz were keeping up with their Dembe-devised 'Sports and Strategy Analysis' programme, accompanied by various diverse attempts at Kitchen Survival 101 whereby they had both improved their culinary skills to the point where neither refused to eat anything the other cooked anymore.

One afternoon, after time spent deep in political discussion and debate, Liz finally suggested that they go and let off some steam before dinner by using the bikes in their gym. She was enjoying the fitness sessions and found them a good way to clear her head after she had been verbally sparring with Reddington or absorbing the Alliance's latest tactics and strategies. Red wasn't so keen. He stuck to the schedule Dembe had put together but after his designated time was up he was never very enthusiastic about doing any extra. Today was no exception. He kept her company for his scheduled hour, after which he decided to call it a day.

"I've had enough, Lizzie. You carry on."

So, as she had every other afternoon, she continued to cycle while Reddington went off to take a shower.

Therefore what happened was a complete accident. Or fate.

Today, for some reason, her back hurt, maybe a muscle strain or maybe she was over-tired, and she called her session off early. Red had made sure, on every other afternoon, that he had his bedroom door safely closed. Today, the cat, who had been lying on his bed decided, as felines will, that he wanted out and was going to scratch the door to pieces if he didn't get his way. So Red let him out. And left the door open, in case, as felines will, the cat should immediately change his mind and want to take possession of the centre of the bed again. And because Red didn't expect Lizzie to finish so soon he wasn't as careful as he should have been; she had, after all, been extending her cycling times day by day.

Which was why his door was open.

When she walked past.

And he was standing with his towel wrapped around his waist.

With his back to the door.

And so.

She saw.

He froze, knowing she was there.

Knowing what she seen.

He waited.

She whispered a barely audible, "Oh, Ray." Compassion spilled into her words. She stepped into his bedroom and he couldn't move. Only sense her moving closer and closer. He wanted to flinch away as he felt the very tips of her fingers brush lightly over his scarred back, but he forced himself to hold still, closing his eyes as her touch sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. No woman had dared to touch his back since the accident; they usually nimbly avoided that part of his body that he got used to hide.

Liz felt an attraction to the ravaged skin, like a magnetic pull. Her fingers were mapping out the landscape of Reddington's back as if it was telling her a story of pain and suffering. A story she knew only too well.

She placed her scarred palm against his scars and relived the memories from that night so long ago.

Finally, realisation cleared the horizon and shone a bright, clear light onto the past. "It wasn't my father who saved me that night ... it was you ..."

After a long pause, his voice, strained to near breaking point, began to explain. "Your screams led me to the closet where you were hiding, holding on to that toy rabbit. There was just enough time to grab you and then for us to manage to escape. There were flames everywhere. The room I had been in exploded with fire. If I hadn't heard you screaming and gone to find you ..."' He left the rest to her imagination.

"'So ... we saved each other. And since then, you've been trying to protect me."

"It's a bit more complicated than that."

"It's always more complicated with you."

It was indeed complicated. He, himself, didn't know everything that had happened that night. There was so much, still, that was a mystery to him; even after twenty-five years of following up possible clues. It seemed useless to talk about it anymore. He didn't want her to feel indebted to him because he had saved her life so long ago. After all, thanks to him her life was now ripped apart at the seams. Everything that she was going through was his fault. She could blame him for all what she was going through.

He had never planned to reveal his burned back to her. He had carefully hidden it under the layers of his three-piece suits, a neatly fastened shirt collar and a carefully knotted tie. The very few people who had seen them had feigned ignorance and avoided any awkward questions. Women had been attracted to the man of wealth, the powerful, influential criminal, whose mask he wore for the world to be deceived by. Few had looked carefully enough to see the sad, lonely man hidden behind the deflecting humour and confident seduction. Or wondered why he always kept his undershirt on. At least, they never asked.

He slowly forced himself to turn and face Liz. With his thumb, he wiped away a tear that was slipping down her cheek.

She could see that his chest was just as damaged. Close to the now all-but-healed fresh scar of his recent injury, there were other scars from other bullets, and what was clearly the evidence of torture that traced its way down his chest and abdomen; she was sure someone had burned his skin with the tip of a burning cigarette again and again and again.

She skimmed a cut that marked the side of his neck. "The chip ..." she whispered.

"I had it pulled out after the Cabal's strike. Connolly and the Director were tracing me because of it. Now it's somewhere offshore around Alaska."

She slowly and carefully circled her arms around his waist, as if he were fragile and would shatter at her touch. She remembered the times he had held her, after the music box finished playing and in the hold of that wretched ship as he tried to quietly comfort her. She rested her cheek against his shoulder and closed her eyes as she tried to truly understand all that had been revealed to her.

He wanted to pull away, even though it would cause him such deep pain to do so. He preferred it when she was distant and upset with him. It was so much easier to manage emotionally. This ... whatever *this* was ... was too painful. Because it couldn't last. He couldn't let it. The 'Thank you,' whispered against his chest seemed completely inappropriate; unnecessary. But he didn't want to breathe, to complain, to break the moment. He couldn't remember the last time someone had hugged him this way, without his protective undershirt shielding him.

As if barriers were finally crumbling he finally relaxed and passed his arms around Liz. And slowly, they held on tighter and tighter as if each considered the other to be a life vest that could save them from the turbulent seas that had overtaken them. Perhaps that's what they were: castaways from the shipwreck of their former lives, and now they were bound together no matter whatever happened next.

After a moment, Red began to feel uncomfortable standing half-naked in the middle of his bedroom holding Lizzie in his arms. The whole situation seemed so incongruous and he finally broke the silence with a half-embarrassed, "I need to finish getting dressed."

She hesitated a fraction before releasing him from her arms and taking a deep breath she inhaled the smell of him; cedar soap, fresh and soothing.

He wanted her to go and he wanted her to stay all in the same confusing instant: she was far too vulnerable for him to afford the slightest inappropriate gesture, and so she really needed to leave. And yet, more than anything in the world, he wanted her to stay.

He needed to tell her to go but his mouth refused to form the words, and while he hesitated she laid one hand on his bare chest and twined the other around the nape of his neck. Unable to resist the gentle yet urgent pull, his head leaned down and his lips met hers. He closed his eyes to forget that all this was real; enjoying a stolen moment he had never allowed himself. A few seconds of recklessness that he hoped he would not have to pay the price for.

But he was not ready for that, not now. He struggled to end this kiss and find a valuable excuse to justify his behavior. The fear to see her walk away again was scaring him.

"Lizzie …" He couldn't find the words. He had no excuse, "I can't…"

There were no words, no excuses to justify what he had done. And perhaps it was right and just that his punishment must surely be to see her turn away and leave. To watch her walk away from him now would leave him in the valley of the damned, trapped forever by an eternal loneliness from which he could never escape.

"Ray, I don't know why I stepped into your room ..." her voice trailed away into silence.

"There's nothing wrong."

He didn't know why he said such a thing. She had just discovered his most intimate secrete. He had kissed her …. Well she kissed him but he let her do so and he appreciated, he enjoyed it. "There's nothing wrong" … For sure, it was wrong, that on the top of everything else.

"I need to go to the bathroom."

And she left. As if nothing had happened.

His legs gave way beneath him and he found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. Thoughts tumbled through his head like litter picked up and carried by a storm. He tried to stop the turmoil but nothing refuse to settle; instead all he gained was a headache as he thought of the likely consequences of his actions. He should have shown better self control. He should not have taken advantage of her the way that he had.

When she quietly came back and stood in the doorway some time later, Reddington was lying on the sofa.

"Either you drive me downtown to buy some clothes or we have to do some laundry. I found some of your clothes lying around and have used them because I have nothing left to put on."

Raising his head, he feasted in the endearing sight; she looked almost like a clown in his too large t-shirt and rather shapeless jogging pants and yet she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Was he reading too much into the fact that she was wearing his clothes?

"Lizzie, please come and sit next to me."

She sat and he continued. "What happened earlier ... "

"Do we really have to talk about that?"

"We can talk about the weather forecast but that's quite boring these days."

There was a long pause. Then, "Ray, I'm ashamed. I don't know what else to say. Less than a week ago I threw myself into Tom's arms. He seemed so adorable, so kind. He wanted to offer me a new life, far away from everything, from my problems, from … you. He made it all sound so plausible, so real. It all sounded so ... possible. I found myself trusting him."

"That's not what …" he interrupted.

"We made love!" she almost yelled, "I thought I was happy on his boat, in his arms …"

Reddington found himself suddenly breaking out in a cold sweat. Tom …

"But then we discovered Andropov's USB key, found about the manipulation behind Cooper's health problems, Connolly … my memories … and now …. That's in your arms that I … I'm sorry … I feel so ashamed!"

He tried to ignore what she had just said. It was not the subject he wanted to talk about.

"I should have stopped you. But I didn't … I'm as full of guilt as you are. More so. About a great many things."

He paused before leading the discussion to what he really had in mind. "Lizzie, since the first day I saw you at the Post Office I have had a strange feeling. You remind me so much about …"

"Your daughter?"

His throat closed.

"No … not really … my daughter, I abandoned her when she was a child. I don't even know what she looks like now."

"You never tried to find her?"

"She hates me … she ran away. She has no reason to meet me."

He tried to smile as if what he just said was obvious.

"… so my mother?"

"You know I can't tell you everything."

"It's complicated, I know."

"There's a reason for that. And one day you'll come to understand. And I'll be able to tell you more. But ... for now ... I'm sorry, Lizzie. I can't."

"It's always seemed to me that you had some random connection to me that meant you just needed to protect me. But now," she looked at him and waited until he looked back at her, "now, I know more. Not everything. But enough for now. Whatever else there is ... will just have to wait."

She had changed. She seemed to trust him. He had to be careful not to break what was still a fragile trust.

He took her hand and held it carefully, seeming to chew the inside of his cheek before he spoke again. "You're not the girl I remember from so long ago. Not anymore. You're a woman. And you ... impress me."

"Ray, I have no idea where all this is going to lead us." She dared to look into his eyes. "You're a seductive ... endearing ... man. Being this close to you during our time on the run means I no longer see you the way I used to. I don't really know where I stand. Where *we* stand. There's so much between us. But ... I think that together we're stronger. Together we can succeed. We just have to find a balance. We just have to help each other."

He was seductive … endearing?

His heart was beating so hard he was half certain it was going to explode.

"We'll make it, Lizzie, yes. Together we'll succeed."

He was just repeating her words. Words that magically seemed to make everything seem so easy.

Even if it was only for the time they looked into each other's eyes.

She leaned into him and he took her gently in his arms. She smelt like jasmine and he wanted to inhale her scent forever. And after a time they settled down on the couch and she snuggled up against him. They didn't share a single word. Somehow there was no need. Her eyes gradually closed and he felt her breathing grow slower and more even. And he felt his own eyes close. They needed just this. This togetherness. In each other's arms. Knowing that they were caring for each other. Nothing more.

ooooooooooOOOoooooooooo

When Dembe stepped into the living room, having let himself in using his own key, what surprised him was not seeing them both on the couch, it was more seeing them sleeping together like hibernating bears. However, smiling quietly to himself, he began unloading the supplies he had brought, waiting for the sound of his movements to disturb them. Surprisingly, nothing seemed to wake them. The only one who paid him any attention was Raymond… the cat who purred like a train and rubbed up against his legs in welcome.

Because he had the time, he started preparing dinner and finally the noise of the pans as he moved them around woke Red and Liz.

Reddington stepped into the kitchen, arms raised, and welcomed him like the savior. "Dembe! I'm so happy to see you back!" He hugged and kissed him.

"Raymond! I've never known you sleep through anything. I suppose, sub-consciously, you knew it was me? Otherwise ..." Dembe didn't need to outline his fears in any greater detail.

Reddington shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. "Well, I suppose I must have … I didn't even notice … When did you arrive?"

"About two hours ago. I was trying to get things done without making any noise."

"Oh … well…!"

Reddington couldn't believe it. He had not felt so well rested since ... he couldn't remember when!

"So, tell me, my friend, how did these days go while you were isolated from the world?" Dembe asked.

"They were … ok, yes, ok."

"Looking at the state of this pan I believe your cooking talents have not improved a great deal?"

Dembe held up the pan that Liz had burned on their first day and which, so far, they had not bothered to clean. Reddington didn't feel like telling tales out of school, and besides, he really had nothing to brag about so far as culinary skills were concerned.

Instead, he tried to head Dembe away from the topic of his and Lizzie's cooking. "That's … well … we were eagerly waiting for you! You can't imagine how much I've missed the taste of your delicious cooking. "

They laughed together. He had missed Dembe so much. He was always there to boost his morale and give him well-needed advice, especially about Liz …

She stepped in the kitchen with a large grin on her face, as happy as Reddington to see Dembe again.

They sat down at the table and Dembe watched them eating his food like starving people. He was glad it seemed to please them so much.

After dinner and much praise for Dembe's culinary offerings, the three of them settled down in the living room for serious discussions about all that had happened in the last few days. Dembe related all that he had learned about the Task Force's failed efforts to trace them and also what he knew about the Cabal's pursuit as well. It seemed, in both cases, Red's and Lizzie's trail had grown cold and their enemies were presently baffled and confused as to their whereabouts, which was a relief, for now.

After a long while, Dembe suggested putting some music on. Liz was surprised to see him stand up and go over to the piano in the corner of the room. Sitting down he initiated a salsa tune.

A few bars later, Reddington met Liz's gaze. She seemed to enjoy the Cuban rhythms. He stood up and reached out to her, inviting her for a dance.

"Just one dance?" She hesitated a couple of seconds before taking his hand and getting to her feet. "I've never been really good with salsa …"

"Let me show you," he said smiling at her with devastating charm. He circled her waist with his free arm, while gently resting his other hand, which held her own hand, against his heart. He started with a few simple steps before getting more and more excited as Dembe was playing new melodies, winking discreetly to him.

They spent the rest of the evening dancing and laughing. Forgetting for a moment all the stress around them. Somehow Liz felt safe, despite the dangers she knew were still out there waiting for her.

But most of all ... she knew she was loved.

And with Dembe on their side, things could only improve. Moments of peace for them all before they had to face the reality of life on the run again; before they had to continue the fight to clear Lizzie's name; before they had to take on the Alliance once more.

Now, was a time of rest and recuperation. And healing. And learning. About each other.

Unseen, the cat jumped up onto the sofa and tucked his paws under his chin as he curled up in a ball. After watching the humans carefully for a while, he decided that, for now, all was right with the world, and after purring contentedly for a while ... slept.