Red shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he scanned the deserted streets outside the courthouse. The atmosphere that night walked a fine line between peaceful and unsettling, with the street lamps bathing everything in a warm yellow light, making the world feel slightly dreamlike, surreal.
Lizzy should be released soon. At any moment now, she'd be there, free and clear like they hoped for. Like he planned.
Only not like he planned at all.
If either of them was going to be captured by the feds, by the Cabal, it should have been him. It should've been him in that box, slowly suffocating while they tried to force the FBI's hand. But then again they probably wouldn't have tried to do that to him. Red had bargaining chips, connections. Where he had leverage, Lizzy was the leverage—her life, her freedom, her reputation.
Would she be all right after this? Certainly not yet—the trauma she endured in custody could have far-reaching and long-lasting consequences on her psyche, the likes of which he was all too familiar with.
The impact that her nightmare of an incarceration would have on her remained to be seen. The Cabal was more than happy to use her as a scapegoat, to pin their worst schemes and crimes on her. (He was, unfortunately, familiar with that, too.)
Red hadn't felt nerves like this since high school, waiting to see his date in her prom dress for the first time; the context here, tonight, was so very, very different.
He almost lost her. Again. When she was in the Post Office in that cursed box, utterly beyond his reach, he felt completely powerless, helpless. He hadn't felt so helpless in decades. Maybe since the day his mother died—the first time in his life that he understood how fragile and defenseless even the strongest person could truly be.
There. There she was, standing across the street, looking scared and hopeful as she scanned the abandoned streets, searching for someone.
Searching for him.
She seemed so small in front of the big building, at the foot of so many concrete stairs, dwarfed by the imposing structure. He wanted to call out but couldn't; even if his vocal cords would cooperate, he couldn't afford to draw anyone else's attention to himself.
As Lizzy's head started to turn in his direction, Red's heart began to thud almost painfully in his chest; he could feel his palms start to sweat and then…
And then a bus drove by, cutting off her line of sight. Red appreciated the sense of drama in the moment, even if suspense had curled itself around his rib cage and started to squeeze.
Lizzy's marvelous, marveling smile when she saw him took his breath away. He could see her fighting back the emotions of the moment, fighting back tears of joy and relief; he was damn close to tears himself, but when she strode across the road and threw her arms around his neck, he knew nothing but the feeling of her body against his, her hair under his fingertips.
They held each other there on side of that empty street, safe to forget the world for a few stolen moments with Dembe's watchful, protective presence standing guard.
When Lizzy pulled back, she studied Red's face, seeming to drink in every last line and feature, desperate to convince herself that he was real—and really there.
"I thought I was a dead woman," she said, her voice low and breathy as she spoke faster and faster. "I thought… I thought you wouldn't be able to convince them, that they might hurt you, too. I thought I'd never…" She trailed off, staring at her hand on his chest over his pounding heart. He doubted she could feel it through the thick layers of fabric, but it was nice to think about. That she might be trying.
Then her gaze lifted, only far enough to land on his mouth, and he knew what she was thinking, what she wanted. But they couldn't. Not here. Not out in public where anyone might see the newly exonerated FBI agent in the warm embrace of the very same criminal she went on the run with.
They hadn't kissed yet in front of Dembe, either—while he was conscious, at least—but Red saw his curious looks all the same. There was something in their interactions that skipped right past platonic, an intensity and an intimacy he knew his friend wouldn't be able to miss. Still, it didn't mean they had to confirm his suspicions. Especially now.
Lizzy pulled him off the car, wrapped her fingers around his upturned lapel and tugged, insistent. "Come on. Let's go." The 'home' was implied, left unsaid. At least he liked to think so. No matter how much bittersweet pain it caused this time.
There was a difficult conversation weighing heavily in the air between them, a conversation they should've had that night. But they didn't. It was so much easier to simply feel, to bury the lingering questions and decisions in the back of their minds to deal with another time.
Their situation grew more complex by the day, and the longer they waited to have that conversation, the harder it would be. They couldn't avoid it forever. Not without risking… negative consequences.
As soon as they made it back to his Bethesda apartment and bid Dembe good night, Lizzy led Red straight to his own bedroom, familiar as she was with the layout from her snooping excursions. The door didn't even have time to click shut before she reached for him.
Off went his hat, stashed hastily on a dresser. Off went his coat, shoved off his shoulders while Lizzy kissed him, and it dropped to the floor with a thump loud enough to make him wonder in the back of his mind whether Dembe would've heard it.
Red could hardly unbutton his vest fast enough to keep up with Lizzy's fingers tugging at his tie, at the buttons on his shirt. He was bare down to his trousers before she slowed down enough for him to reach for her clothes.
Her jacket, not nearly warm enough for the cold weather outside, was the first to go, followed by her thin shirt, which she helped him pull off over her head without unbuttoning it. She walked him backwards towards the bed while they stripped off her clothes, and gave him a nice solid shove back onto the mattress. He caught himself on his elbows and watched her as she fumbled with her pants, struggled to undo the button and zipper on the skinny jeans with shaking fingers.
"Fuck," she said, and he reached out, taking her hands in his.
"Hey, it's OK. No need to rush," he said, pressing a kiss to her palm.
She cupped his face with her hand, running her thumb back and forth over his cheek, smooth despite the late hour because he put his electric razor to good use during the ride to the courthouse. "God, I missed you."
Red skimmed his hands along the skin above Lizzy's waistband, slipping his fingers underneath to pop open the button and slowly draw her zipper down. Then he set his sights on her bra, raising goosebumps as he caressed his way up her flank and reached around behind her to undo the tiny metal clasps.
He steadied her while she bent to pull off her heavy leather boots, gripping his hand tightly with one hand while tugging the boot off with the other. Two more thuds he prayed Dembe wouldn't hear. Her jeans followed soon after.
Once Lizzy was on both feet again, Red bent forward to take a nipple into his mouth; she let out a low moan, holding his head to her chest as his tongue moved against her skin. He pulled her slowly by the hips until she stood completely between his spread thighs, holding her close with one hand while he let the other explore her body.
She moved with his ministrations, following his touch, even leading him where she wanted him most. And where she wanted him? Good Lord. She was drenched. He could feel it through her underwear, more so once he slid his fingers underneath the fabric, stroking her slick skin. His cock throbbed with his pounding heartbeat, with every moan and cry that escaped her lips.
She pushed insistently at his shoulders, pushed him far enough away that he couldn't reach her chest, and immediately focused her attention on ridding him of his trousers and boxers. He helped as best as he could, and watched as she slid her own underwear down her legs and clamored into his lap.
Lizzy positioned Red against her and sank down onto him with an indulgent groan. He studied her, enthralled, as she rode him, memorizing the arch of her back, every desperate move of her hips. Her pace would've been almost punishing if she wasn't so slick around him. The sensation of her gripping him deep inside was dizzying, the familiar heat and pressure pulling him inexorably closer to the end.
"Lizzy," he said, near to panting, and tightened his hands around her hips, slowing her movements until they sat as still as their quivering bodies would allow and the urgent need to climax receded.
"It's OK," she said, nuzzling his neck, holding their torsos flush together. He felt the trembling of restraint in her thigh muscles, of her legs wrapped around him. "This time, please, just…"
Red swallowed hard. It wouldn't matter now, would it? Not with the glow that grew with every passing day, the way her body was softening, her curves filling out. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to imagine just for a moment that the life growing inside her womb was not the product of the night she spent with Tom Keen before they ran, and what that might mean. What might it mean to acknowledge that he and Lizzy hadn't exactly been safe and responsible since that night on the container ship?
More than either of them could bear to think about tonight, surely. Denial could be a many-layered thing.
"All right. All right, yes."
Red felt Lizzy's lips curve into smile against his neck, before she pulled back to hold his gaze with heavy-lidded eyes. Deliberately, she rocked her hips, tightening her muscles around him over and over with every thrust, and when he started to spend himself, she let out a gasp that was almost a sob.
Red snaked a hand down between them to bring her over the edge with him, his fingers moving easily over her hot, wet skin. Lizzy collapsed against him, a boneless, breathless collection of clinging limbs and grasping fingers. He held her to his chest, his arms wrapped around her sweat-slick body, neither of them quite able to breathe deeply enough to satisfy their burning lungs.
Red's heart seized with regret.
This… this couldn't continue. This was dangerous. Every time they did this, met like this, from here on out, they took her life into their hands.
People would look at them too closely now, with the extreme attention surrounding her exoneration. People who would examine their relationship inside and out, who would jump to all sorts of conclusions. And the right conclusions just happened to be the most dangerous ones.
They couldn't afford that kind of scrutiny from the wrong people. Hell, they couldn't afford that kind of scrutiny even from the right people, who might jump to those same conclusions. That might be even worse.
Red sighed. In the morning, things would change. Things had to change.
But tonight?
Tonight nothing could eclipse the warmth of this woman in a cool set of sheets.
Just this once. One more time.