Author's Note: The end of a three-chapter era.
His body was making a return to its inborn senses. His eyes were steady on her now, not missing a single movement that she made as she worked on achieving the perfect water temperature in her shower stall. He had seated himself on the edge of her bathtub. He'd done it all on his own. He was using the strength of his arms to support himself and it turned out to be another successful venture. His breaths were calmer too, and she hoped this meant his pain was ebbing away. No more whimpers and screams, disguised as the basic need for oxygen.
Next, he took notice of her small, tidy bathroom. It occurred to him that was the first time he was allowed in this intimate area of her apartment. He wished sympathy didn't contribute to the kindness she was showing him.
"Shower's ready, Red. Let's get you out of those clothes, alright?" she suggested gently, hoping bravery wouldn't betray her when she needed it most. She stood him up, and he grabbed the nearby sink, just in case. But he was steady. Guilt invaded her when she realized his quick recovery didn't go with her plans to help him shower. So, it was true what they said - helping others was not a selfless act. Maybe his love for her wasn't entirely selfless either. Maybe it was not a parental kind of love, untainted by selfishness.
He was watching her think. Waiting to see if she was going to go through with what she'd suggested earlier. The prospect of letting her help him in such an intimate manner frightened him. It didn't, however, frighten him enough. His left hand let go of the sink. Not a single ounce of balance was lost. He started unbuttoning his vest, his fingers learning how things were done anew.
"Let me help you with that," Liz said somewhat tentatively. She helped him with his vest and decided to start working on unbuttoning his shirt next.
"Are you going to get in the shower with me, Lizzie? Is that what you're going to do?" two perfectly reasonable sentences that had the potential to make her reconsider her intentions. He was coming back to his senses. She was presented with the opportunity to do the same.
"I believe I am," Liz confirmed and divested him of his bloodstained shirt. "You're a man with multiple layers, I see," she pointed out and grabbed the hem of his undershirt with both hands, making contact with the fine hairs of his belly for the first time. Now that death was off the table, jokes were allowed, were they not?
He smiled and simply lifted his arms in surrender to being left shirtless in front of this wild creature that kept on insisting life was worth living.
He had a tattoo on his left ribcage. She'd read his file. She knew he had more. She'd see them soon enough.
"You do the belt, I do the pants?" she suggested with a smile. They were working together, their bravery encouraging this madness. It was all insanity's fault. Someone should stop them, he thought. But it was just the two of them in her warm, tidy bathroom. They were both voluntarily helpless.
He undid his belt and looked at her. He'd completed the job she'd given him, after all. It was her turn. Her fingers tackled the button of this pants, then the zipper. Even his clothing contributed to the completion of this catastrophe.
"Why don't you get in the shower first, Lizzie?" he asked, knowing she would've pulled down his pants and boxers otherwise.
"Will you be able to make it to the shower on your own?" she questioned his newly-found physical strength.
"I will be just fine," he reassured her. Of course, he would be fine. The path to this potentially grand mistake was going to be a smooth one, without a single obstacle to sober him up.
Her silent agreement manifested itself in the clothing she discarded a minute later. Her underwear didn't join the messy pile she'd left on the floor. Not all boundaries were going to be crossed that evening, it seemed.
*****
Elizabeth got inside the shower stall and started the water almost immediately. She did nothing to rush Reddington inside. This predicament was complicated enough. She was prepared for the eventuality of him leaving her in her sad, soaked underwear. She was resolved to not let disappointment cloud her shaken judgment. If he chose to seize the last chance at walking away from her, she would have to banish all bitterness and anger from her system. Respecting one's choices was a virtue; a promise for some sort of gratification in this life or the next.
Only, there was no need for her to abuse her fragile patience. Because the cool air that reached her skin told her Red was joining her in this, whatever it was. She felt his body brush against her back, nudging her.
"Move, Lizzie," he instructed, very quietly. The warm water she'd adjusted for him couldn't reach his body because she was in the way. She repositioned herself immediately and finally faced him.
He was completely naked. She stole a brief glance at his lower abdomen and the fine, wet hairs she'd always suspected were there.
"Move closer, Red. We need to get you warm," she ventured. He did as he was told, taking her in once more. He wasn't shy about looking at her breasts and stomach. His belly was brushing against hers now and she made no attempt at breaking the intimate contact.
Instead, she distributed some shower gel between her palms and tried to massage the tension out of his shoulders and neck. His head was hanging low; the suppressed fear for his own life was vacating his body. Her tender palms moved onto his chest, not avoiding his nipples. She was decided to explore every texture his body had to offer.
"Mr. Kaplan told me you've managed to resist the serum they gave you for the longest time," she started as she washed his stomach. "Did you learn how to do that at the academy?" she questioned.
"Yes", he breathed out and nodded. "I mastered it at 28, I believe," he said, leaning his left side on the wet tiles. "Lizzie, why don't you hand me some soap? I'd like to-," but it was too late. Her left hand was soapy, warm and wrapped around his semi-erected length, cleaning him whole. Shaft and tip included. She repeated the motion four times, then kneeled in front of him and washed his thighs. She wasn't bluffing earlier.
"I've got you, Red", she soothed and kissed his inner thigh.
This was no bluff either.
