AN: Thank you all for your continued support for this story. I cannot convey how much your feedback means to me. (And if I get a TON of reviews, then maybe I won't be able to help myself and write even more quickly :). As always, I own nothing of the Blacklist except for my angst.

OoooooooooooooO

Chapter 8

Lizzie stared at the door, closed her mouth, then bit her lower lip and attempted to process what had just transpired.

Before, it was easy to justify Red's actions. Regardless of how her body responded or if she felt more positively towards him, Liz held to the fact that Red was a master manipulator. When caught up in the way he looked at her, the solicitous touches and double entendres, the idea that it was all part of his game brought her back to earth.

But in that last exchange, his eyes, the set of his jaw, every single bit of his body language finally spoke the truth. This was no game to him. She was no passing fancy, something to be won, used and discarded. Lizzie was real and Red wanted her, longed for her. He had to know that with a few more touches and some sly words, Lizzie's resolve would have wavered, but he wouldn't push her.

Lizzie could not believe how much his regard and respect meant to her. This well-traveled, experienced, dangerous, unpredictable man that she had come to admire and admittedly, desire...wanted her for herself, not just for whatever benefits she could bring.

She was pulled back to reality when one of the sisters started to drag a garment over her head. The sound of their conversation slowly returned as the rush of blood subsided.

"That one has got it bad for her, no?" Menace said laughingly, "He was looking it her like he was the big bad wolf." She tugged the neck of the dress down and caught Lizzie's eye. "A little more encouragement, cheri, and he would have had you over one of the sewing tables. Take my advice though, while fun in the moment, you will have the most odd-looking bruises from the bobbins...and the pins are always a hazard." She sighed, "And that's how Evangeline Singer, my third, was conceived."

Liz shook her head in disbelief. "You named your child after a sewing machine?"

Menace shrugged, "Seemed like a funny idea at the time. 'Sides, each of the kids have a middle name relating to their conception. Anais Brindille, Cecile Coquelicot and Emmanuelle Susurrer. And if you're not familiar with French, that's Twig, Poppy and Whisper." She zipped up the back of the dress, and straightened the hem. Lizzie thought for a moment.

"The woods, a field and...whisper, I can't...a church?! Did you really...in a church?!"

Menace chortled, "Americans, so delightfully prude. A holdover from those stodgy Puritans, no doubt. You were close. A treehouse, a field and a library. There's something about the smell of books that gets me every time. I was pressed up against a card catalogue..." She closed her eyes, savoring the memory.

Returning to reality, she turned Lizzie around to face a mirror. The fine wool fit her like a sheath on a custom blade.

The dress was simple, modern and perfect. As Menace helped her with the matching jacket, Liz felt like she was looking at someone else. A lawyer, perhaps, or a socialite. All she needed was a strand of pearls and a chignon and the look would be complete.

Menace peeked around her with a smile, "Absolutely lovely! We will take it up a bit, the original customer was a bit taller, but otherwise, perfect. She also commissioned pants with each jacket, which I think will suit your needs well. We will alter the jackets to conceal your weapon. If you like, we can also insert a few additional pockets for...essentials...and insert a placket or two to make drawing a sidearm more fluid. It's ip to you."

Lizzie furrowed her brow, "Essentials? Plackets?"

Genevieve rose from her stool and sauntered over to a rack of clothing. She located a men's suit jacket, and brought it over to the pedestal, and held it open to show the lining. She pointed to a seam by the lapel.

"Here, a small pocket to hold a basic lock pick. If one cranes the neck, it can be easily pulled out with teeth." She opened the other side, to an area that would rest over a man's heart. "Give it a poke." Lizzie dutifully prodded the lining, which proved to be reinforced.

She looked back at the woman, unbelievingly "Let me guess, Kevlar?"

Genevieve nodded enthusiastically. "A reinforced, more flexible derivative. It won't stop an armor-piercing bullet, but it will stop many and slow down many others. Also useful in a knife fight. We like to tailor garments to suit our customers...lifestyles."

Lizzie cocked her head to the side, puzzled. "But you only took over this business two weeks ago, and your brother designed for women, ladies who lunch, from what I gather."

Genevieve eyed Menace. Menace shrugged, "We come from a family of tailors and designers. Our parent's business, specifically their custom menswear, was developed for a certain clientele. Etienne was the first to branch out on his own, and after his mishap, we thought we'd try to combine a bit from both businesses."

Lizzie shook her head."I feel like I'm in a Bond movie. What, will you call it - 'Q Atelier' "

Menace giggled delightedly. "Oh, that's adorable, dear, but I'm much more of an 'M', don't you think? Anyway, we haven't worked out the particulars, but find a boring name usually places customers at ease. It will likely be, 'M&G Suiting.'"

She helped Lizzie out of the dress, and handed her a tank top.

"What about Menacing Designs?" said Lizzie, with a mischievous grin.

Menace dissolved into chuckles, "Oh, we should. Wouldn't that be hilarious?" She straightened up and patted Liz on the arm. "We'll take it under consideration, but first, let's check the length on the pants. What kind of heel do you prefer?"

Lizzie soon became entrenched in an intense discussion about footwear, gladly accepting a distraction from the man outside their door.

AN 2: Sorry if this seems like a filler chapter, but if I'm not writing a one shot (spoilers, there are two in progress) Courtship is kind of a game, or a merry war...sometimes an advance must be followed by a strategic retreat. Please keep reading and reviewing. I'm already working on my next chapter.