Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm sorry for the long wait, but I hope you'll find this new chapter humorous enough to somewhat make up for it. It centers around Liz's preparations for Denny and Shirley's arrival in Virginia. In my photo album, you'll find a picture of Liz's horse, Hudson, as well as Denny's horse, and his little friend.

As always, I still own nothing. If you're familiar with the Boston Legal episode titled "Happy Trails", you'll find a couple references to it in this chapter. Thank you for reading and reviewing!

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Chapter Fourteen

Ever a fussy, somewhat spoiled man, Denny decided that he'd prefer to bring his own horse, an Andalusian stallion named Ruger. Several days before he and Shirley left, Denny phoned Red to inform him that the stallion would be trailered there, and that Red needed to have a private paddock and stall ready for his arrival. "Okay, no problem," Red told him, not understanding why it was such a big deal.

"His OWN paddock, Raymond," Denny asserted.

"I'm sure we can arrange that." Red shrugged his shoulders.

From across the room Liz watched him and laughed. She was endlessly amused by the way Red 'handled' his friend. He seemed to walk a line between placating and antagonizing, and jumped from one side to the other on a whim.

"Ruger is A STUD. I can't have him mounting every mare and gelding that he sniffs out, but he'll try. Thinks he's in charge of the herd, and he bites and kicks to make sure they know it. Don't let him!"

Red rolled his eyes. "Are we still talking about your horse, or are we talking about you now?"

"Very funny."

"Did you really name him after your gun?"

"Maybe. I didn't get to choose his registered name though. Can't even pronounce it."

"Well, I like it. And don't worry, Lizzie will be here to get him settled in. He'll be rested and happy by the time you guys get here." She narrowed her eyes at him, for not asking her first, but he was right. She'd gladly be there to help out.

"Sometimes he gets a little stir-crazy after a road trip, but he'll be fine after a good run. Oh! I almost forgot. Ruger goes nowhere without his companion. Do NOT separate them."

Red squinted, his brow furrowed, slightly taken aback. "His companion?"

"Eh... you'll see. Just keep 'em together." Denny replied.

-...-...-...-

The next afternoon, Red was off doing business while Liz set up the accommodations for Denny's horse. She started by filling a double-stall with a thick layer of sawdust. Hudson watched her curiously from his paddock, leaning against the fence and swishing his tail. He'd only ever seen Liz putting sawdust in his own stall, and THAT stall, he knew, was not his. It wasn't even in his barn.

Then, she filled two five-gallon water buckets, and hoisted them up to hang from their clips in the stall. 'On second thought...' She paused, wondering whether or not Ruger's companion would be tall enough to drink from the buckets. After a moment of consideration, she unclipped one and lowered it, just in case.

Knowing that Denny would need a place for Ruger's tack and grooming supplies, Liz cleared a nice space in the tack room, large enough to accomodate everything. When she came out empty-handed, heading towards Hudson, he neighed and stomped his hoof. She quickly realized that he probably wanted to go for a ride, and her heart broke a little.

"Sorry, handsome. We don't have time to ride. If they get here while we're out, I won't have a chance to give you a proper cool down."

As if unconvinced, he gently nudged her shoulder.

Liz sighed. "You're really trying to make me feel guilty, aren't you?" She reached up to comb her fingers through his forelock, pulling it away from his eyes. "I promise I'll make it up to you when Denny gets here. How does a nice, long trail ride sound?" She gave him an apologetic pat on the shoulder.

Hudson huffed and leaned into her touch.

"Hmmm..." she mused aloud. "I still need something to do until they get here. How about some light grooming, then?"

-...-...-...-

Two hours later, Liz realized that she actually would have had time to ride. She sighed. Poor Hudson. Would he be jealous when Ruger arrived? Do horses feel jealousy? She wasn't sure, but she didn't have to dwell on it for very long. Her heart almost skipped a beat when she heard the low crunch of an enormous trailer rolling down the gravel driveway, pulled by a huge truck that had been painted to match. She smiled and waved to the driver, pointing to show him where to park.

He stepped out and stretched his arms over his head. "Miss Keen?"

"Yes," Liz replied warmly, shaking his hand.

"Alistair Holden. I'm Ruger's trainer slash groom slash chauffeur," he quipped. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Liz could see Ruger's rump towering over the trailer's french doors. As if he sensed her staring, he started to paw at the floor, impatient from being cooped up on the road. "Hold your horses, buddy," she crooned, and then winced. "Pun not intended. Sorry."

Alistair disengaged the latches on one side of the door, while Liz did the same on the other. They lowered it slowly, so as not to startle the antsy stallion. As her gaze passed over the revealed passengers, her breath caught, and her eyes widened. "What is..." she trailed off, dumbfounded.

Ruger's companion was horse-like, somewhat... He stood at about half of the stallion's height, and his fur was shaggy and tan, with a dark brown dorsal stripe that ran from his short, spiky mane, to his wisp of a tail. It was his legs that gave Liz pause. Covered in black and white stripes, they looked as if they had been transplanted from another animal. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that he actually had even more stripes, across his shoulders and rump, but they were faint, as if sun-bleached.

"A zonkey," Alistair supplied. Noting her puzzled expression, he explained, "It's a donkey and zebra hybrid. In his case, a miniature donkey."

"Oh, cool! I didn't know that such a thing existed. Like a mule, right?" She grinned. "What's his name? Is he friendly?"

"It isn't very creative." He shook his head, chuckling. "His name's Zonkey, and he's a total puppy dog."

Ruger stomped again.

"He's adorable! I love the name. Maybe we should finish unloading them while we talk."

"Sure. Why don't you go ahead and grab Zonkey? I'll get Ruger."

"Sounds good." Liz agreed. She stepped up the ramp, speaking in a low, soothing tone. "Hey Zonkey, I hope you had a nice ride over." She offered her hand for him to sniff.

Deciding that he liked her, he blew a soft puff of air into her palm. "Good boy." She unclipped the cross-tie and pressed her hand against his chest, giving a gentle tug on his halter. "Back up. Baaack. Easy, boy." Zonkey obediently followed her instructions, unloading without issue.

Happy to be out, he tossed his head and pranced on the end of his lead. Liz took the hint and walked him in a wide circle around the trailer, allowing him to stretch his legs. "So," she asked the handler, "What can you tell me about Ruger? Any vices? Anything else I should know?"

"No vices, but he has a few quirks. With humans, his disposition is great. Friendly. Affectionate. He's a total people-pleaser, and loves to work. No, scratch that. He NEEDS to work. He's used to being ridden daily, but I already rode him this morning, so you'll at least have to ride him tomorrow, if Mr. Crane gets here the next day. Otherwise, expect him to start acting out."

"On that note, let's go ahead and put 'em in the paddock. I doubt he'd want to go from his trailer to his stall," Liz suggested.

Alistar agreed, "Good call."

"So... can he go English?"

"Yes, he can, but I'd advise against it. Mr. Crane would probably shoot you if he found out. You can lunge him instead, if you'd prefer. I have to say though, if you choose that route, you'll regret passing up the chance. You'll see what I mean in a sec."

"Thanks for the warning! I wouldn't put it past someone who named his horse after a gun manufacturer."

"Besides that... Keep him away from the other horses, and don't take him anywhere without his buddy. If you just leave the door open, Zonkey will follow. You don't even have to halter him, if you don't want to."

Liz opened the gate to the small, empty paddock, and lead Zonkey through it. Unbuckling the throat latch on his halter and slipping it off, over his ears, she turned back towards Alistair and Ruger. "What about riding though? Can he deal with other horses under the saddle? I can still ride with Denny, right?" She pointed to her coal black horse, still eyeing her every move. "That's him, Hudson."

The handler turned and closed the gate behind him before slipping off the stallion's halter. "'Him', you said? He's beautiful. Arabian, right? As long as you aren't riding a mare in heat, and you keep about ten feet apart, especially from his back end, you'll be fine."

Liz finally had a chance to get a good look at the stallion. They leaned against the railing, watching as Ruger broke from a stand-still to a full gallop. Denny's stud was a tall, proud beast. Even at a gallop, his muscular neck arched high, with his muzzle tucked in towards his chest.

His dapple grey coat shined in the late afternoon sun, and his long, silvery mane and tail whipped back in the wind he created. Smooth gaits? Yes, absolutely. Ruger floated and flew.

Liz turned her attention to Zonkey, who was cantering in earnest, much smaller circles. His head bobbed up and down with every stride. "Such a comical little thing. He looks like a Zonkey," she said, referring to his name. Curious about Red's reaction, she slipped her phone from her back pocket, snapped a photo of the little guy, and sent it to him.

"Well, I guess we should go ahead and unload their tack and feed. You probably have a long drive ahead of you," Liz said.

"No need, actually. Mr. Crane wants me to unhitch the trailer and leave it here. I'll be staying at a motel in Culpeper until it's time to head back to Boston." His gaze swept from her legs to her face. "If you need anything at all, my phone number is taped to the lid inside the tack trunk."

Nice try. Liz nodded politely. Alistair obviously knew nothing about Raymond Reddington.

Not quite getting the reaction he'd hoped for, he went on, "As well as their feed instructions, supplements, first aid kit, and grooming supplies. His mane tangles easily, but if you're tempted to braid it, don't. Mr. Crane would have a cow."

Liz shoved her hands into her pockets. "Hmm... is it my imagination, or is Denny a little on the difficult, prickly side? You haven't painted the prettiest picture of him."

"Oh no! No, he's great. He might seem a little demanding at times, but that's only because he has very strong and specific opinions about almost everything. I'm sure it's one of the reasons he's so successful."

Lord, that's some impressive back-peddling. Seems he doth protest too much.

"Ahh, I understand completely." Liz laughed, shaking her head. "Actually, I know someone who's exactly like that..." Ah, Raymond. She loves him. Adores him. Lives for him.

"Then I'm sure you'll get along just fine. Besides, Mr. Crane loves beautiful women."

She laughed. "Now this, I've heard."

It took less than a minute for Alistair to unhitch the trailer. He extended a hand for Liz to shake. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Liz. Remember, I'm just a phonecall away. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Sure, thank you."

-...-...-...-

In the early evening, Red arrived to find Lizzie astride Hudson in the outdoor arena. As if she had intentionally timed it to show off for him, she steered towards a jump, and Red paused to watch. In one fluid motion, she stood in the stirrups and leaned forward, giving Hudson the necessary rein to stretch his neck as he leaped. On the other side, she slowed him to a walk and patted his shoulder lovingly. "Good boy, Huds. Perfect."

Red took off his fedora and held it over his chest. "Majestic, sweetheart!" he called out to her. "If only that scuzzy former owner could see him now," he lauded.

Without being cued, Hudson turned and ambled towards him. Lizzie swept her bangs aside and grinned. "Why thank you! Did you get my text earlier?"

Red canted his head, squinting up at her through the setting sun. His lips stretched into grin. "I apologize for not replying, but yes, I did. Is it a zorse or a zonkey? I couldn't tell from the photo."

She pursed her lips, disappointed by his apparent lack of surprise. "You'll see. I have them set up with the broodmare stall and paddock. Nice and roomy. Walk with us."

As she lead the way, Red matched Hudson's pace. She wondered if Mombasa smuggled zebras and zebra hybrids. That might account for his muted reaction. Several yards from the fence, she cued Hudson to halt. The stallion neighed and trotted back and forth across the length of the fence, tossing his head. Zonkey stuck his head between the lowest slats of the fence, stretching out towards them.

"He's a little small for either a zonkey or a zorse, I think." Red observed.

"Miniature zonkey, and he wants you to pet him."

He shook his head. "No thanks. I'm afraid exotic animals don't take to me nearly as well as exotic women." He glanced up to see Liz scowling at him. "I'm going regret saying that, aren't I?"

She nodded. "Probably... Well, I'm gonna go ahead and cool him down and untack, and then I'll bring these guys in for the night. See you inside?"

Red rested a hand on her thigh. "Sure thing, sweetheart."

-...-...-...-

After Hudson was all settled for the night, happily munching on a fresh flake of hay, Liz headed back out to get Ruger and Zonkey. Instant panic set in when she found their paddock empty, and the gate wasn't even latched. Alistair never said anything about them being escape artists! She gritted her teeth, spinning in circles, in search of clues for which direction they took. Luckless, she ran towards their barn, and before she even stepped into the breezeway, she heard a high-pitched squeal, followed by child-like giggling. "Hey, that tickles!"

She slowed to a walk and silently crept towards the oversized broodmare stall, peeking at its occupants through the crack between the wooden slats, unseen. Liz's worry instantly vanished, and was quickly overtaken by pure amusement. Red must have decided to make up for his stupid comment by bringing them in for her. She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the squeal that threatened to erupt from her lips at the sight. Red was petting a very blissed-out Ruger, right behind his ears, while Zonkey's lips fumbled over his back pockets, in search of a treat. What a cheeky little thing! Still giggling, Red finally turned to address the little would-be pickpocketer. "Seems you and Lizzie have something in common. No wonder she likes you so much."

Liz couldn't suppress her reactive snort, and the trio jumped in surprise. No more hiding now. She slipped through the partially-open sliding door and smirked. "I'm sure that Zonkey knows a nice ass when he sees one, but when I'm looking for a treat, I usually start with the button and zipper."

Red flashed her a rare, sheepish grin, and then quickly redonned the more familiar, cocky one instead. Still smirking, she crossed the space between them, and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Is that a subtle request?" he asked, and then dipped his head to give her a quick kiss.

Zonkey took advantage of the opportunity to check her pockets then. With her shirt untucked, he clumsily nuzzled beneath it, his lips fumbling and his whiskers tickling her skin. Taken by surprise, Liz squealed and jumped a little, finding herself firmly pressed against Red. He hummed in response, his eyes twinkling. "Or maybe not so subtle."

She tried to play it off, shrugging and kissing his jaw. Without letting go, she turned so that her back was towards the door again, safe from Zonkey's curious advances. "So... dinner?"

Oh, the tease, Red thought. Food was the last thing on his mind, but he gamely nodded. "Dinner."

Just then, Ruger grabbed Red's fedora and pulled it off of his head, clutching it between his teeth and bobbing up and down, waving the hat in the air. Red turned around to glare at him indignantly while Liz just stared. Effectively chastised, Ruger let go, and the fedora landed right on top of Zonkey's head, perched perfectly between his ears.

Even Red was stunned into silence, but he couldn't withhold a grin. Liz plucked it from the quirky fuzzball's head and looked it over quickly before returning it to its rightful location, on Red. "Just a little slobber. It's fine," she reassured him.

"You're enjoying this a little too much," he accused.

"Like you aren't? Anyway, I wasn't talking about our dinner. I meant theirs." She laced her fingers with his and pulled him through the door, carefully latching it behind them. "Come help. Their feed is in the trailer. And THEN, we can talk about our dinner, or... perhaps something else."

Oh yes, 'something else' sounded awfully good to him. "When I was a boy, I once rode a hat-wearing horse at a birthday party. His name was Thunderclap, and the hat had holes cut out for his ears."

"I bet it wasn't a fedora though."

He shook his head, chuckling. "No, it wasn't."