Hey Guys! Moving right along, again thanks for all the feedback, i'm so grateful! Enjoy!


12: Taking Her Time

Lizzie decided she didn't want to go back to her house. She had seen how vulnerable Red was and she wanted to stay with him, knowing full well how dangerous the sadness could be. She didn't want him to go through feeling small and alone, much like her own feelings whenever she slept in that house that held only memories and lies.

Dembe stayed by the door when it shut behind them. Red's apartment was muffled and smelling like old books.

"Want a drink?" he asked, taking off his tux jacket and hanging it up before he undid his bowtie and headed towards the bar.

"Whatever you're pouring for yourself," Lizzie said, gratefully collapsing down and kicking off the scarlet heels. She was rubbing her sore heels when he came over with two glasses of amber colored scotch. They drank the first round quietly; still both mulling about what had happened in the car, the way Red had grown so detached.

After their drink, Lizzie announced she was tired of wearing that tight dress. Liz made her way to the guest room and unzipped the dress, the zipper conveniently sewn into the side seam. Stepping out of the garment, she wobbled a bit from the alcohol, but recovered without issue. Lizzie dug around in the spare drawers and found a pair of sweatpants along with a plain black t-shirt. She was grateful for the new comfort and padded out back out to the living room. Red was not there, but she only had to sit alone for a few moments before he came back wearing similar comfort clothes. He looked different…calmer, a little more vulnerable outside of his pressed shirts and slacks.

Red offered her another drink and Lizzie agreed. When he poured another round, Lizzie spoke up, the burn of the first scotch still in her throat.

"So how do you know Grayson Moss?"

Reddington took a deep drink and settled on the couch, his arm slung behind him. "He had stolen some money from me," he muttered, "Wiped out an exclusive account that I had made as a vacation fund."

She was quiet, sipping. He turned and looked at her, wondering how much he should say. The surveillance disks were tucked away in the drawer of the desk that sat in the corner of the room. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes and met the conclusion that she wouldn't be ready for it.

By her third sip, Lizzie already felt buzzed by the strong alcohol. Scotch and martinis seemed to work pretty quickly. She wanted to keep her head so she decided to set the drink down on the table. Thunder roared overhead and she couldn't help herself from jumping.

"Are you alright, Sweetheart?" Red asked after he savored his drink on his tongue for a few moments as he watched her. He worked his jaw a little.

"I just don't like storms…" she muttered, a little embarrassed.

"Really?"

"Yes…really. Ever since I was a little girl. They used to scare me so much I would sleep with Dad."

Reddington savored the mental picture of a young Lizzie curled up in Sam's arms, whimpering from the loud fuss the thunder threw overhead. Sam was always so proud of his little girl…so proud that, at times, Red would barely be able to recognize him.

"What are you afraid of, Red?" Liz asked after another drink. Boldness flowed through her like foolish gold.

Raymond could feel the enticing tingle of the alcohol run through his legs. He wanted to speak the truth so badly…it felt like that one chocolate his mother wouldn't let him eat, the forbidden fruit that he obsessed with tasting. Truth made him throw caution to the wind.

"I'm afraid of you, Lizzie…" he murmured, dipping his head and watching her, waiting to see the way the woman reacted. She took another drink, the smooth skin of her neck moving with the swallow, like flowing ivory. He wanted desperately to feel it on his fingertips, to feel the smooth warmth pressed against his lips with her scent filling his nose. He wanted to feel the curves of her body pressed against his, his hands flowing wherever they pleased, down her back and over her body to up her shoulders and tangling in her hair.

"Why?" his Lizzie asked, turning to look at him. Her eyes were questioning, but clouded behind the shade of alcohol. Just slightly.

The intoxicating thrill of confession bloomed up inside him and he finished his drink, bucking up his own bravery like a child.

"Because of how much power you have, Lizzie…" his voice was low, the quiet rumble that filled Elizabeth's ears and sat like heavy warmth in her heart. Her lungs hitched and she felt a shockwave shoot down the entire length of her body. The alcohol clouded around her eyes slightly, not enough to rush her judgment, but enough to affect her. Lizzie could feel Red's eyes boring into her in the low light. Thunder rolled again and she internally cringed away from it, leaning slightly forwards towards him.

"Power?"

"Over me," Red continued. Confession was a sweet tasting thing. "Over everyone. You've survived so much, Lizzie…and yet you still flourish. You've been beaten down…crushed…spat on and yet here you sit," Red wanted desperately to take hold of her hands, to draw her towards him, but he resisted, "as beautiful as ever."

"Beautiful?"

At her question, Liz watched as Red cocked his head like he usually did… his mouth in a small sincere smile. "Beautiful."

She looked down at her lap and blushed. Why? He had called her beautiful before…but…but something was different. The tone of his voice, the intensity. He was almost pleading, pleading to make her see through his eyes. To see a woman that was much more stunning than she felt.

"So much power…and so beautiful…" she could start to feel the heat on her skin where he looked at her.

The thunder cracked so loudly overhead, Lizzie actually jumped, started out of her trance. Quickly, Red wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, rubbing his palm up and down her arm.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his mouth barely brushing against her temple. Lizzie found herself wrapping her arms around him, pressing her forehead gently against his lips again until he gave in and pressed a kiss to her skin. The alcohol was making her head spin. However, even with a fuzzy mind, she realized that she wanted to be closer to him. She wanted his arms around her and the thunder to stop. She wanted to loose herself in the soft warmth of his breath and the smell of his cologne.

Red was in a near state of euphoria. Lizzie's body was pressed into his and he could feel her heartbeat start to slow and relax after the shock of the thunder passed. He couldn't help but smile when he felt Liz snuggle up into him, silently asking for a kiss on the forehead. Reddington couldn't deny her that and mused how her skin felt like rose petals against his lips. He could feel the warm puff of her breath against his neck and relaxed backwards, bringing her down with him.

They were throwing their own caution away, tossing it to the curb and praying the other wasn't uncomfortable. Liz was lying across his chest, using the space where his neck met his shoulder as a pillow, and his arms were looped around her, hands resting against her lower back. She was a comforting weight on his chest and he loved the way her body melted in with his.

Lizzie's head was really starting to buzz now and she couldn't help but mutter something. It was muffled, and Red had to ask her to repeat herself.

"What are we doing?" she asked again. Liz brought one of her slender hands up and rested it on his opposite shoulder, running her thumb up and down the expanse of his neck. Every now and then she could feel the little bristles of his hair or sideburns on the sensitive skin of her thumb.

"We're lying together," Red said, turning his head and kissing her forehead again. His own inhibitions were gone from his scotch and he felt how relaxed she was, her body pressed on top of his. "I'm holding you."

"Do I really have power over you, Raymond?" Elizabeth's voice was low as she murmured into his ear.

"Yes, Lizzie."

"You think I'm beautiful." It wasn't a question, searching for validation. It was a statement, a declaration of the truth that sat behind his eyes.

"I do," he reaffirmed.

Thunder rolled again overhead and Raymond's arms tightened around her, even when Lizzie didn't jump. However, she did press her forehead against his jaw and she felt the scratchy prickle of the short stubble that was beginning to push through his skin. She was so intoxicating to him, the smell of her combined with the alcohol he had consumed making his head fuzzy and warm. Reddington brought up a hand and gently stroked the back of her head, letting it rest on the back of her neck, the satin strands of her hair smooth on his palm.

"I don't miss him anymore," she said, her breath a warm little puff against his skin. "Tom, I mean."

Reddington was quiet for a moment. He squeezed the back of her neck lightly with his fingertips, "That's good…he doesn't deserve to be missed."

Reddington tensed a little when he felt Lizzie's palm press against the side of his face. She lazily traced the arch of his eyebrow and the curve of his hairline. Lizzie was thinking about how detached he had grown in the car, when he was staring out the window. His eyes looked so sad…so lost and alone.

I'm lost and alone… she lamented to herself, her brows furrowing with self-pity.

Wait…what are you thinking…?

Red had been by her side with everything…warned her from the moment he met her. He kept her safe, kept her calm…made sure that she was ok. Lizzie slid her arm down to Red's side and propped herself up a little on the couch cushion, almost in a way that looked like she was pinning him down. The woman studied him, noticed the handsome planes of his face and watched the muscles in his jaw clench as he watched her as well. Something had been blooming inside of her over the last few weeks…and the alcohol in her system made her want to act.

Red's hand fell away from her neck and looped around the small of her back once more.

"Lizzie…are you ok? What's wrong?"

She stared down at him, boring into his eyes in the gloom. She gently pressed the palm of her free hand against his cheek, then up against his temple. Red felt a shot of electricity shoot through his body from her touch. The silence hung between them, but Red was convinced that the thump of his heartbeat could be easily heard. He was trying to read the woman's expression, but all he could do was notice her lips, slightly parted with the white of her teeth peeking into view.

"Lizzie…"

Before her conscious could stop her, Liz dipped her head, her eyes flitting from his gaze down to his lips. She caught Red's lips with her own and lingered there. She felt a jet of fire start from her head and crackle down to her toes. The arm that supported her nearly gave out and she desperately waited for Red to react to what she was doing.

The kiss flooded Raymond and he began to drown.

Red let his eyes slide shut and tried to stop the spinning and whirling that was happening inside his skull. He grasped Lizzie's waist and lifted his head, moving his lips against hers as the kiss deepened. Lizzie filled him, filled his lungs, his heart, and his head. Lizzie settled back down on his chest, moving the hand that had supported her up to his shoulder. He couldn't pull her close enough, couldn't taste her enough.

The curious tip of Liz's tongue slid tantalizingly across Red's bottom lip. The man desperately wanted to open his mouth to her, surrender himself just to taste her even more deeply, but he couldn't. His mind had cleared and he had to pull away. The disappointed little sound that slipped past Lizzie's lips made him ache with want. As quickly as it had started…it was over.

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth whispered, her eyebrows knitting together in worry. Embarrassment and panic started to creep up into her stomach. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to do that. Red, I'm sorry, I crossed a line."

"Lizzie… Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie…don't ever apologize for that," Raymond purred, wrapping his arms tighter around her and holding her close. "I just…I just don't want you to do anything you'll regret, Sweetheart."

She was quiet.

"It's late…you've had some drinks…I think it's time for bed, don't you think?"

Lizzie nodded and stood up. Her cheeks were flushed and she suddenly didn't want to look at Red. She was still embarrassed and kicking herself quietly. Why had she done that? Lost control so completely? She wasn't just some crazed, aroused teenager that was kissing anyone that was available.

Red stood as well and turned her, making sure to dip his head in order to meet her eyes. No matter what he tried, she would always glance away. Finally, Reddington just seized her chin in his hand and tipped it upwards until Lizzie finally met his eyes. He could see the slight shine to them, the whispering threat of uncomfortable tears.

"Lizzie, if I could, I would take you away from here. I would find a place with white sand and blue waters…or cobblestones and cafes. Do you understand?"

His voice was like chocolate in her ears and she nodded.

"But now…tonight…there was alcohol. Your life has been turned inside out and upside down…and…and I just have to know if you're sure. I want you to take your time." He released her chin and ran his hand through her hair, cupping the back of her head and bringing her forehead to his lips. "You are so beautiful and so powerful…and I will see you in the morning."

She nodded and pulled away, turning and making her way back to the guest room. He watched her go, desperately trying to hold on to the taste of her lips.