A/N: Just a little fluff bunny that tackled me this morning, and because I love Charleston. I think it would be Red's kind of town. Un-beta'd, of course, and properly disclaimed.
Sunrise and Gunshots
Raymond Reddington considered himself an observant man. You didn't survive in the world he lived in without picking up the skill. Those who did not usually wound up dead. But even a habitually observant man could be a little lax at times. Such as this morning, watching the sunrise over the Battery as he strolled along the waterfront. He had left Lizzie sleeping, newly blond tresses spilled across his pillow, to make his way to a favorite bakery on King Street.
Biscuits lighter than angel's wings, served with local honey, by a large woman whose smile could take your breath away. Everyone in Charleston knew Gwendolyn Akers, her ancestors had come to Charleston as slaves, and her many times great-grandmother had started the bakery during the Reconstruction. Gwen herself had learned to make the famous biscuits at her mother's knee, and had expanded her business to several additional locations. She was a baker by nature, but a businesswoman at heart. Red adored her.
"Raymond!" his name was a joyous exclamation in her whiskey tenor voice as she bustled out to give him a hug, which he returned. The shop was busy, as always. The Atkins diet held no sway here, all the locals stuffing themselves with delicious carbs until they almost swooned from the sugar. She stepped back and eyed him critically, assessing his health and well-being in that way she had. Something must have given him away, because her bright eyes narrowed on his chest, where the fresh scars of the recent gunshot had just healed. Red's smile was rueful, he could never hide anything from her; rumor was her grandmother had had the "gift", as the genteel South still called it.
"You keep on twisting the tiger's tail, Raymond. One of these days, your luck's gonna run out on you." Her admonishment was laced with fondness and he let himself be guided back to the kitchen, where there was a little table for two. She sat with him and took one of his hands in her own, and he could feel the calluses of her work on her fingers.
"Who is she?"
"Who's who, Gwen?" Her eyebrows arched at his attempt to deflect the question.
"The girl you're in love with. Don't you think you can fool me, Raymond Reddington. I got eyes. And you got love just pouring off of you like sunlight."
Red sighed in defeat. He should have known better. He only saw her maybe once or twice a year, but it never seemed to matter. Gwen always knew.
"It's Lizzie, Gwen. My Lizzie." He smiled across the table at her and something in his face must have told her what she needed to know. She rose from her seat and poured two cups of chicory coffee, with just a bit of sugar, and brought them back to the table.
"Your Lizzie? The one you told me about so many years ago, when you came here for the first time?" He had discovered Gwen and her family bakery almost ten years ago. He had fallen in love instantly, and decided to become a silent partner. Gwen had told him she had a vision for her business. He made sure she had the means to make it happen.
"Yes. "
"And you don't bring her here to see me? What happened to your manners, Raymond?"
"Well, I might have, but I didn't want to wake her. And we're in a bit of a …predicament."
"Predicament, that's what you call it? I watch the news, I saw the story from DC."
"It's much bigger than anything they would tell you on the evening news, Gwen. But long story short, we're hiding out here in Charleston for a day, maybe two. Then we're headed overseas. "
"How long?"
"As long as it takes."
"All right then." She took a long sip from her cup and gazed thoughtfully at him for a moment, before pulling a small cooler bag from under a counter. She placed a few cold packs inside and added a bag of frozen biscuit dough from the freezer, topping it with frozen water bottles. She brought it back to the table and handed it to him with a wide smile.
"Can't go on the run without provisions, can you? I'll pack you some fresh biscuits to go home with, this morning. You'd best be getting back, you don't want that girl waking up lonely." Gwen packed a carryout box with fresh hot biscuits, butter and a tiny jar of honey, poured an extra cup of coffee in a paper cup and handed all of it to him with a kiss on the cheek.
"That's for luck, because I'd bet you're gonna need it. "
He smiled at the short, stout woman who had always treated him like a brother and a friend, no matter what he had done.
"Thank you, Gwen. "
"You thank me, Raymond Reddington, by coming back safe."
The sun was higher now, and sparkled on the blue water as he made his way back to the safe house. The row of stately homes, with their Easter egg colors, never failed to charm him. He really hoped Lizzie was still asleep. He wanted to wake her slowly.
He hoped she liked biscuits.