The Ocean Between Us

A/N: Hey, guys, thank you so much for all the reviews, favs and alerts! Also, holy CRAP over 100 reviews! *bows and worships* I didn't expect this much, you have made my day, truly :) When coming to this new fandom with this story, I was so nervous but you have totally proven that the TBL fandom is simply the best! *hums Tina Turner*

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Chapter 11

As you set out for Ithaka

hope the voyage is a long one,

full of adventure, full of discovery.

Laistrygonians and Cyclops,

angry Poseidon—don't be afraid of them:

you'll never find things like that on your way

as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,

as long as a rare excitement

stirs your spirit and your body.

Laistrygonians and Cyclops,

wild Poseidon—you won't encounter them

unless you bring them along inside your soul,

unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

~ C.P. Cavafy, 'Ithaka' (transl. by E. Keeley and P. Sherrard)

"Miss! Miss!"

The door to the classroom slammed open and Liz's head shot up, her hand moving automatically to the gun she had stowed away in her drawer. This was the Nyeri District in central Kenyan highlands and she had had enough dealings with the local criminal element to always be prepared. It had cost several broken noses and other digits before she had made a name for her here but at least the school was finally safe. For now.

Njeri, the village chief's teen daughter who helped her as a teaching assistant and translator, snickered in her seat behind at her nervous reaction. Liz shot her a sideways look and turned back to the little boy, one of her pupils, James, who had just run into the classroom with an excited look in his eyes.

"Miss, miss, come!" he exclaimed enthusiastically upon reaching her desk. "All the adult there, a big announcement on papa's TV!" James' father was the proud owner of the only TV in the village and his home, next to chief Chitundu's hut, was the heart of the village. Usually everyone gathered there on Sundays to listen to music and the news but it was Friday today so something must have indeed happened.

"All the adults are there," she automatically corrected her pupil, an impulse that had become her second nature incredibly fast. The she looked at Njeri quizzically but the girl just shrugged. "What big announcement, James?" she asked after a second's pause.

"About America," the boy said and tugged at her hand. "Come!"

Liz froze. Could it be? She could feel her heart start beating in frantic, pressurized thumps against her ribcage. She schooled her features into a neutral expression and turned back to the class. She was supposed to call it a day anyway soon.

"End of classes for today," she announced to the children's loud cheer. "Have a nice weekend and remember there's a pop quiz on Monday."

She waited until they all left and then let herself be led out by an ever more impatient James to a hut a couple of buildings away.

She could hear the crackling of the old black and white TV long before she got there. It seemed like indeed the whole village was crowded in the confined space but they moved away reverently for their nyeupe mkenia, white Kenyan. She smiled to herself despite her current unease. She hadn't been mzungu, the white man, anymore, ever since she had driven away the local vandals threatening the children and the UNO-built new school, gaining the chief's and village elders' respect in the process. That particular change of status had come with a rather embarrassing ceremony and a lot of local moonshine she preferred not to remember.

"-and it seems that the final chapter in the 18-month long war against the World Shadow Government organization, has been closed today with the apprehension of Jijun Bing, the Chairman of the Chinese Communist Party's central committee. This seems to be the last nail in the CCP's coffin following a series of arrests and scandals in the last twelve months, signaling and new day for China's and the world's modern history," the anchor announced in excited voice as footage from the Chinese's arrest followed. "The existence of the Organization first came to light two years ago when several investigative journalists around the world published shocking articles about a shadow association controlling some of the most influential companies and biggest governments around the world. Ever since then we have seen a new day dawning for world peace and democracy. Among others, conflicts in Darfur, Palestine and Ukraine were peacefully resolved, and the dictatorship in North Korea and Cuba ended. Several governments resigned in Europe and Asia. The US has seen the dawn of a new political and business class after the Directors of the CIA and the NSA as well as dozens of other high profile public persons, among them Congressmen, Senators and Supreme Court Judges, were found guilty of treason and conspiracy."

Suddenly a picture of Red appeared on the screen, in a war room of some kind surrounded by some of the highest-ranking US officials. She wouldn't be surprised if it was the White House war room. Even among all those powerful men, Red commanded all attention and seemed to take up more space than normally. Liz thought this must be what he had looked like back in the day, in uniform. "-instrumental in bringing down the organization was Raymond Reddington, once number four on the FBI's Most Wanted list, now celebrated as a national hero." Footage of Red smiling that cocky smile of his as he shook the US President's hand appeared." He has been fully exonerated of all charges against him, awarded an honorary admiral's rank and there are rumors that after this final success, he will be awarded the Medal of Honor, the highest American military honor-"

Liz had heard and seen enough. She closed her eyes against the dampness that had built behind them and took a deep breath. Then she quietly slipped away from the hut. So Red had done it. Everything he had promised and more - not only had he taken down the Cabal and proved his innocence but he had literally brought about world peace.

She went back to the now completely empty classroom and sat behind her desk. For a moment she just stared into space with unseeing eyes until she reached for the drawer in her desk and removed the bottom to reveal an A4 envelope. She took it out and reached inside, taking out the contents and displaying it in front of her. It held Red's handkerchief, the key to the apartment he bought for her after she had sold the one at the Audrey, and one of Red's Most Wanted posters. A tawdry, sad collection of a few cherished items from the past she allowed herself to keep. To remember.

She looked at Red's face in the poster. He would never have to run again and he was finally safe. The relief she felt was tinged with sadness when she thought of everything he had lost on the way and what he had to sacrifice. Nothing, no honors or medals, could ever change the past or give him back his daughter and twenty years of his life. But at least he was free.

Far away from her and as unreachable as a star in the sky, but he was fine, and that would have to be enough. Feeling tears build up on her lashes again, she took a deep breath and hid the items back in their place. Then she walked out of the classroom to the very edge of the village, where she had found a small, secluded spot that looked out onto the vast expanses of the savanna. The sun was almost setting by now and it was not safe to stay there but she still had some time and she needed the solitude.

She propped herself against an acacia tree and leaned her head back against the rough bark, letting the evening breeze filled with the lush smells of savanna on the verge of the wet season into her open eyes and mouth. A plaintive, mournful sound coming from somewhere above enveloped her and she closed her eyes. It had startled her when she first came to Kenya until Njeri explained it was simply the acacia itself, or more specifically the whistling thorn. Some acacia species developed hollow, blackish gourds on their branches, caused by ants living in symbiosis with the shrub. Once these bulbs broke up and the wind hit its holes, a whistling sound emerged. Liz normally didn't like the sound but today it seemed to be the perfect accompaniment to the turmoil in her heart and soul.

The next time she opened her eyes, the moon was up and the moonlight stung her eyes like concentrated white fire – it held her where she sat as surely as a silver spike driven down through her body and into the sand at her feet.

She wondered where Red was and what he was doing, if he was happy. She didn't allow herself to think of him often. And when she did, she didn't see the larger-than-life charismatic persona that brought the most powerful clandestine organization in the world to its knees, but a myriad of small unimportant details which reminded her that underneath it all he was a flesh-and-blood man who had saved her life and stood like a bulwark between her and the evils of this world for almost all her life. Like the way light broke through his glasses, the way he tilted his head when he was amused, the softness of his lips on hers…But that was in another life. So much had happened since then. Since she had last seen him.

She closed her eyes again as the events of the last eighteen months that had brought her here flashed in front of her eyelids in a vivid, hectic string.

~o~O~o~

Five flights, three helicopter rides, two car rides and one motorboat cruise later, Liz found herself on a beach in front of a breath-taking villa in Bali. She knew instantly it was the one Red had told her about once. Every morning that she woke up and recuperated she stared into the ocean. But unlike Red, she didn't see opportunity. She saw solitude and isolation.

She had no idea what was going on home, apart from articles in international press nad news reports about a shadow government that were starting to grow more numerous. As the world order started to fray at the seams, she began to believe she the tables would turn on her situation too, she would be exonerated and could come back to the US. Hope and opportunity seemed to finally set root in her heart.

The first assassin had changed that.

It was only pure coincidence she had her gun on her that day on the beach. The housekeeper was cleaning her room so she had to take out all the more sensitive things out, and so she had taken her gun and slipped it into her beach bag.

That day was the only time she contacted him.

"Red, there was someone here-"

"I know, Lizzie," he interjected hastily. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Who was that? What's going on? I thought this place was safe."

"So did I," he replied mournfully. "I managed to get to your assailant's boss but not before he had dispatched his men. There are more coming and you need to leave, Lizzie," he warned, an urgency and deep anxiety coloring his voice.

"What's going on, Red?"

"The Cabal know the ground's burning under their feet. In hope of distracting me and as payback for your role in all of this, they've set a price on your head and sent more than a dozen bounty hunters after you," he explained in a low, angry tone. If she hadn't been before, in that moment she became fully certain the Cabal's days were numbered. "They cannot be recalled or paid off so until the Cabal is brought down completely you have to be on the move."

Liz swallowed, trying to stay collected as she watched her life take another one eighty into the unknown. "How do I do that, Red?"

"Listen to me, Lizzie, this is very important," he replied, his crisp to-the-point tone breathing reassurance and a modicum of comfort into her heart. "There's a safe behind the Van Gogh painting in the sitting room. The combination is 7364520821. Inside there's an envelope with coordinates for my secret stashes all over the world – in each there is money, weapons and documents. This will allow you to travel under the radar but you still need to be careful. Don't contact anyone, keep a low profile and choose remote locations."

"Will this ever be over, Red?" she asked, her voice faltering.

"You will be free and safe if it's the last thing I do, Lizzie," he vowed and she could almost see the rueful half-smile on his lips. "I promise."

"I trust you, Red," she said quietly, bringing the headphone closer to her ear as if that could somehow bring him closer to her as well.

"Lizzie, I-" he said, his voice laden with concern and emotion but then he broke off. She heard other voices behind him. "I have to go, sweetheart. Be safe and be smart. I'll find you," and with these words he hung up.

She stared at the phone for a few seconds, not completely ready to let go of Red's fleeting presence just yet. She shook her head. There was no time for sentiments. If she wanted to see him ever again, she had to be alive for that.

She ran to the safe and she hadn't stopped running ever since. It had been eighteen months. She never stayed anywhere longer than two-three months and in that time she had travelled to Brazilian favelas, lived in Indian slums and suburbs of Colombo, spent long weeks of solitude in the far-away mountains of Bhutan, trekked the rolling Mongolian plateaus and Siberian Altai Mountains. And three months ago she had come to the small Kenyan village, posing as an English teacher for the new school.

Her skin had darkened to a deep golden hue, her frame had grown even leaner, her hair was lighter from the sun and cut short these days, and her eyes had hardened. She had changed not only on the outside but also on the inside. So much so that sometimes she didn't recognize herself in the mirror. She didn't even really feel like a flesh-and-blood person anymore. Along the way, she had made a shadow of herself: no identity, no home and no roots. She was like a ghost among the living. It was a lonely life but it had also helped her deal with her demons – when there was no one else to look to, she was forced to look inside herself and that allowed her to make peace with the past. Her mother. Her father. Sam. Tom. Red.

Throughout this time she had been following news of new arrests, government resignations and the world as she knew it going upside down. And sometime during her stay in the Altais, she had learned on the news that she had been exonerated. The initial feeling of elation had died soon enough as the realization that it wasn't the end ate its way through her high spirits. Just because her name had been cleaned didn't mean she was safe. She knew the bounty hunters were still after her or Red would find her.

She had to believe that, even though she had had no word from him for eighteen months. She knew he was protecting her and she was making it nigh impossible to find her but doubt had been slowly seeping into her heart for some time now and the frequent glimpses she got of him smiling widely in the papers or on the TV, sometimes alone but usually with another quite spectacular beauty on his arm, weren't helping. She knew he was a talented actor but she couldn't really tell anymore what was an act and what wasn't.

It used to anger her but now it only filled her with a blunt kind of sorrow. Her past wasn't the only thing she had come to terms with on her journey. It had taken her long enough to admit it to herself out loud but when she did, there was no going back. She loved Raymond Reddington with that deep, unrelenting kind of feeling that never really let you go. Even if it was unrequited. She knew Red cared for her, used to anyway, but he had never indicated he had any romantic feelings for her. He had never crossed that invisible line from affection to intensity that every woman was aware of. When she thought back on it, she was more and more sure she had imagined the emotion in his eyes when she had stood there on top of the stairs to the plane and looked back that one last time at him-

Suddenly an unmistakable sound shattered her thoughts and the silence around her into a million pieces. The sound of a fired gun.

Liz didn't think twice as she moved stealthily towards the sounds of commotion that were coming from the village square. She crouched quietly behind the wall of one the huts facing the square, her gun in her hand. She slowly peeked over the wall to see a big jeep parked in the middle of the square with several heavily armed men standing around it. They were all aiming their Kalashnikovs at the panicked villagers, who were huddled in groups. She wished she had her gun with her but it was stowed away in the classroom and there was no time to get back for it as she saw two more men dragging Njeri by the hair into the middle of the square. She watched them throw the girl to the feet of another man, who was obviously the leader. He smiled a toothless evil grin at the villagers as he slowly looked around at them.

"We're here for the American!" he exclaimed in broken English, not stopping his scrutiny of the frightened people gathered around him. He seemed to relish in their fear and panic. Liz clenched her teeth, white-hot anger boiling in her. "Give her to us and nothing will happen to you! I give you five minutes! Then I shoot! Starting with her!" he brutally grabbed Njeri by the hair until she let out a pained gasp. She didn't scream, though, and Liz felt a wave of warm admiration for the girl.

"No! Please!" came a pained plea from the side and Liz gasped seeing chief Chitundu get up to his feet and stand in front of his daughter, shielding her from the man. "Don't shoot!"

"Get out of my way, old man!" the gang leader kicked him and shoved him brutally aside. Chitundu fell to the ground, his face gushing blood from the wound on his temple.

The man closed in on him and aimed another kick of his heavily-booted foot at the chief's ribs. His leg never connected with the old man's flesh, though, as he suddenly staggered under a well-aimed punch. In the commotion Liz had disabled two of the thugs closest to her and slinked towards the gang leader, fury coming off her in waves.

"Maybe you should try someone who's able to fight back," she growled, standing over him.

The man for once looked scared as he nursed his beaten right side. "Get her!" he ordered his men shakily.

Liz steeled herself for a full-on assault, as four of the remaining thugs slowly closed in on her, none of them too eager to attack her on his own. The rest of them still had their machine guns trained on the villagers, making sure none of them tried to help her. Liz slowly backed out until her back hit the jeep in the middle of the square. She clenched her jaw and eyed the four men one by one, trying to assess which one of them would attack first. Suddenly there was a grating sound from behind her as if someone had jumped onto the jeep. Then her eyes slid to the right and landed on the man who landed right next to her. Her eyes widened.

"You seem to have gotten yourself in trouble with the local criminal element. Again," the man said with a crooked smile.

Liz couldn't help but roll her eyes. "And you're here to what, Jeremy? Provide running commentary?"

He grinned at her. "As much fun as that would be, I'd rather do my dashing Indiana Jones thing and help a damsel in distress."

"When I see one, I'll be sure to let you know," she retorted.

"I seem-" he began but never finished as the first of the thugs ran at him with a scream.

"Sheesh, these guys can't even appreciate a good banter," he complained while punching the guy in the face.

She shook her head before promptly rendering the second of their assailants unconscious with a well-aimed kick. I didn't take them long to get rid of the four men. When Liz turned, ready to continue the fight, she saw that the rest of the gang together with the leader were now huddled by their jeep, surrounded by the villagers who seemed to have found their courage. Clearly outnumbered, the thugs backed out further and still aimning their machine guns at the people around them, jumped into the jeep and sped away.

As the village exploded into cheer and dance, Liz came up to Chitundu and Njeri. She dropped her head, not being able to look in the chief's bloodied face.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault," she said quietly, her voice breaking a little. "I will leave."

"No. Not leave. We protect," he said proudly puffing up his chest, and looking around his people, who cheered again.

"This is the first time we stood up to them," Njeri supplanted, giving her a smile. "Thanks to you, Liz. There will be a feast tomorrow to celebrate."

Liz just gave her a sad smile and nodded. Every villager wanted to squeeze her hand and only once that was done she could finally slip away into her hut. She grabbed her travelling bag. These thugs had come here specifically for her. They knew who she was. This was once again the bounty hunters catching up to her, and more would come soon. If she stayed, she would put the whole village in danger. She had to leave now.

"Where did you learn to fight like this?"

Startled, she turned around. Jeremy wandered inside, hovering close to the entrance. He was a UN paramedic from Wisconsin, assigned to the village for a six month tour. Liz met him in her very first week here when she hurt her hand on a rusty nail while helping with reparing the roof of the school builiding, and they had hit it off instantly. He was friendly enough and he made her laugh, a feat that not many people managed these days. She never admit it but his sarcastic sense of humor and unflappable attitude were almost painfully familiar and drew her to him almost subconsciously.

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied, shooting him a sideways look and turning back to her packing.

"I used to train boxing in high school."

"Funny thing. Me too."

He didn't seem to believe her but didn't comment further as his attention was drawn to the travelling bag she was zipping closed.

He frowned. "You going somewhere?"

"Yeah. I remembered I have a meeting," she replied curtly.

"Where? In Nairobi?"

She gave him an exasperated look and he lifted his hands palm up. "Okay, your business, I get it. Just know I won't cover for you with Chitunde."

Her face softened at that and she ran a hand through her hair. "Can you tell him I'm sorry?"

"Wow, you're really leaving," he observed, creasing his eyebrows. "What's this really about, Liz? Why were these people after you?"

"It's a reminder."

"Of what?"

"The past."

"And on the day the art of deflection was reinvented we all stood in awe and watched," Jeremy said with a pout.

She sighed and stood next to him in the entrance to the hut.

"I can't tell you more, Jeremy." She let her head drop. "And if I don't leave, I will only put the village in danger. These men came here for me. More will come. I can't let them hurt anyone for my sake."

"As noble as you are beautiful," Jeremy said, stepping closer to her.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Has this line ever worked for you?"

"It only needs to work once," he replied, tentatively putting a hand to her cheek and sweeping a finger over the smooth skin. Liz closed her eyes for a moment. It had been such a long time since anyone touched her with feeling like that-

"Stay. I'll take care of you," he whispered and leaned in to kiss her.

That shook her out of her silent reverie. Putting her hand on his chest, she put some distance between them and stopped him in his tracks.

"Jeremy, I can't."

"Why?"

"I just can't," she replied more forcefully. "Now let me go."

They stood for a moment measuring each other unti he silently nodded and moved to the side. "Fine."

"Goodbye," she threw over her shoulder as her form dissipated in the evening gloom.

A moment later he heard a car engine start from not far away and he cursed, reaching into his shirt pocket. She had stolen his car keys. Again.

He had been warned. He shook his head and reached for his mobile.

~o~O~o~

After another month of jumping around the world, Liz decided she had had enough. The Cabal had officially ceased to exist and she was done running. Red wasn't coming for her and at this point, she didn't want him to. She was done waiting, too. She bought a small beach house on Samoa, got a job as a counselor in a free clinic and did her best to try to build a new life from scratch. She would take whatever the pitiful remnants of the Cabal could throw at her with her chin held high. No bounty hunter was going to control her life any longer.

Days passed and she settled into her new life reasonably well. She took long walks on the beach, enjoyed the sun and got busy with her work. It was a lonely life but that was how she wanted it. Most of the time it was enough to ward off any memories or painful thoughts.

That evening, a month after she had gotten to Samoa, she had finished earlier and decided to go home along the beach. Usually she didn't venture there at this time to avoid tourists but on that bristling afternoon she just really felt like getting her feet wet in the ocean. The sight of the happy families, smiling couples and groups of friends laughing and joking around made her feel so isolated that when she got home, she dropped listlessly onto the bench on her small veranda and just stared numbly out into the sea, the salty breeze tangling her hair and tugging at the hem of her skirt.

She felt so incredibly lonely and lost it was almost like physical pain tearing through her heart, up her throat and lips, constricting her breaths and pulling her mouth into a thick, pinched line. She thought she had come to terms with her life as it was now but all it took was one reminder of what she had lost, and it all came apart like a house of cards under a whiff of air.

Back home in moments like this she would end up at Red's doorstep. He would welcome her with that half-smile he reserved only for her, offer her a drink (sometimes in a Mason jar, sometimes in a crystal tumbler) and tell her one lackadaisical story after another until she was laughing and asking him to tell her one more…the truth was, it didn't really matter what he was saying. For a moment, lost in his voice and in his eyes, she would forget how isolated and despondent she was, and so would he. She could listen to his deep baritone reading the yellow pages and never get bored. That was one of the things she missed most – his voice, telling her quirky tales and assuring her that everything was going to be all right and that he was there.

But he wasn't anymore and she had to finally get over it. They knew each other for a while but their lives had taken different turns and that was it. She ran a frustrated hand through her short hair and went inside. She instantly felt someone's presence and she slowly reached into her purse for her gun. In the corner of her eye she saw movement and pivoted on her heel, aiming her gun at the target. Her shoulders sagged in relief as she saw her neighbor's cat stretching on her windowsill.

"Hello, Julian," she said letting out a small sigh and putting her gun away. "You scared me," she admonished the cat just as he jumped onto the floor and meowed at her inquiringly. She laughed and scratched him behind the ears. "Yes, you will get your tuna."

She went in her small kitchen and grabbed a can out of the nearest cupboard.

"But you can't tell anything to your-" her voice died in her throat as she stepped back into the sitting room.

"You've changed your hair."

~o~O~o~

When Liz was in Asia, she once stayed in an ancient Buddhist temple in Chomolhari in Bhutan, a tiny kingdom lying hidden in the folds of the eastern Himalayas sandwiched between India and China. It was off the beaten track with almost no tourists, just the most devoted Chinese and Bhutanese pilgrims, so she was in no danger of being recognized. She was always a restless soul but for a time, she found some peace wandering the silent corridors of the temple situated at the base of the mountains, and wandering the shores of the holy lake Tseringma Lhatso. On one of those walks she met a solitary monk who sat on the very edge of the lake. Not wanting to disturb him, she tried to tiptoe carefully around him on the narrow path but just as she was behind him, he turned around and grabbed her by the hand. They eyed each other for a long while.

Liz had never been a particularly spiritual person – she had always been too focused on the material plane and her scientific mind had always questioned the idea of a greater force existing somewhere up in the sky. But then there was Red who believed in what could not be seen, in the invisible world of light and darkness, and hope and redemption.

You live in a windowless room. But one day you will be able to look up and see the stars again. So the monk had said to her all those months ago and she heard his words again now in her head as she looked into Red's eyes. And finally, she could see the stars again.

They looked into each other's eyes for a long time.

And they stood like that.

The silence between them was absolute, both of them suspended in their private bubble.

There was no confusion. Happiness. Safety. Affection. It felt like she was coming back, cold and weary, from a long lonely journey to a warm, bright and joyful home. Like someone had been waiting for her for a long, long time and was happy to see her. Like there was a cracking fire in the fireplace. Like there was a cat purring somewhere in the corner. Like it was snowing outside and there was hot tea on the table. Like a clock ticked away and moments passed, weeks, years, lifetimes. Like everything faded away but this safety. But his eyes.

She was swallowed whole by the emotion she found in his eyes. She felt like all those long months had never happened, like it was only yesterday that she had kissed him goodbye and stepped onto that jet.

She felt like putting her arms around him so much and laying her head on his chest, over his heart, to hear it beating and make sure he was really there, but then she would have to stop looking into his eyes. And she couldn't stop looking into his eyes.

His cerulean, changeable eyes were so open and clear as he gazed at her. They exuded a warmth and brightness that you felt laying on a meadow gazing up at a cloudless summer sky.

"Ray," she finally uttered the one single word that had become like a mantra, her voice breaking free from the world of emotion she had been holding bottled up for two years.

And then, as if she was released from a spell, she moved towards him, stopping just inches away from touching him. Very cautiously, as if afraid he might disappear any moment, she raised her hands to his straw fedora and tilted it back on his head just slightly. She held her breath as her hands gently cupped the sides of his face, and she let her thumbs softly graze over his cheekbones. His eyes followed her every movement with a worshipful look, as if he couldn't believe she was here as well, afraid that if he only took his eyes away from her, she would vanish like an ethereal wisp of morning mist chased away by the slightest breath of breeze.

"Lizzie," he uttered, his voice faltering and his eyes bright.

It was the way he spoke her name, like he wanted to explain everything to her, like he was hurting as well, that finally broke the last remnants of her composure. The tears lining her lashes broke free, scorching their way down her cheeks. With a shaking thumb, he wiped them away, and she found herself falling into his arms. She didn't try to stop the sobs that wracked her body, robbing it of the ability to speak and barely allowing a breath to be drawn.

"You found me," she said breathlessly.

"I will always find you, sweetheart," he murmured into her hair, his voice even deeper than usual.

She buried her head in his neck, placing her lips softly over the sensitive skin there and she felt him let out a shuddering breath. She breathed in his familiar scent. Rich but subtle and clean, elegant with hints of sandalwood. She felt like home. He was home. How could she have ever thought she could live a life without him in it? That she would ever be happy without him by her side?

Then he moved away and she got another look at him. He looked tired, worn even, but so incredibly handsome that it took her breath away all over again. There were so many thoughts ricocheting through her head, so many things she wanted to say, to ask…Then she noticed the change in his eyes, which had become inscrutable once again.

"Red?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.

He avoided her gaze as he spoke, his features suddenly taken over by a drawn, somewhat tortured expression. "I have the last name on the Blacklist for you. Number one."

tbc.

Don't judge Red too harshly, everything will be explained next chapter...and reviews make me write faster;)