Last chapter! :D Thank you a thousand times for the reviews! Hope this is okay!

Disclaimer: Don't own the Blacklist.

Pale skin was often said to describe someone who wasn't feeling well. As Lizzie stared blankly into the bathroom mirror she had concluded that her skin was abnormally pale. Her blue eyes were bright and glistening against her ghostly skin. It had nothing to do with it being Monday, and it most definitely had nothing to do with Red.

She shook her head desperately to get out of her current obsession zone. She'd been working herself up all weekend, replaying each moment of Friday night over and over. Picking at each part, wishing she had said some things instead of others. Visualising Red in her car, visualising Linda in her car, visualising Red telling her he loved her in his house. Remembering the way his thumb brushed her cheek, while the intoxicating scent of his cologne drove her completely insane. And the way she ran from his confession because quite frankly, it scared the hell out of her. The way she acted annoyed her, but the way he acted pushed her off the edge.

Her weak grip spun the cool water tap and she splashed water on her face. Each hand then lent on either side of the bathroom sink, she let her eyes fall close. Sleep had not been an option the past two nights, and she hadn't even bothered trying. It felt like she had a head cold. Her head was all clogged up and groggy.

She would call in sick.

After speaking for just under five minutes to Cooper, Lizzie had managed to get the day off. It helped when her voice did sound croaky from tiredness and she sniffed over the phone from her runny nose. Crying was something she hadn't expected to do but having no one to confide in, no one to get advice from was a hard realisation to deal with. Red recently had been the one she talked to over matters she needed to get off her chest. About Tom most specifically. But now she couldn't talk to him. Not when he was the one she needed to talk about.

He had called four times since Friday night but she couldn't bring herself to get up and answer his calls. He hadn't come over from what she knew. She spent a lot of time in her bedroom, in her bed and hiding under the covers, pretending it was the middle of the night not the middle of the day. She couldn't imagine what he would say if she had answered. Hearing his voice would be frightening, nerve-wracking, and before she could muster up enough confidence to talk to him she had to figure out what to say. The thought of him liking her romantically did make her smile and feel a little special if she was being honest. Red had a way of making her feel special, taking her out to dinner, lunch and talking to her as if she was the only important person in the room. Dembe didn't sit with them often which meant Red asked her personal questions about her childhood, her life, and with each silly story she told he would comment and nod, and his gaze would never deter from her. Even as they worked together early on, when she didn't understand who he was, and why she was the only one he could talk to, he made her feel special. He even called her special. Maybe it was because no one else did, not for a long time. Sam did. Tom pretended to. But each 'sweetheart' and each compliment that she pretended to not hear, made her feel important to him.

But the thought of him being in love with her is unexpected.

She trudged back into her room and threw herself on her bed, burying her face deep into her pillow and letting out a frustrated groan. She could never go back to work. She could never face him again.

"Where is Agent Keen?" Red asked as he strode into the post office, glancing over Cooper's shoulder to look through the window of Lizzie's empty office.

"She is not well," Cooper replied, watching Red closely as he comfortably took off his jacket and lay it over the back of a chair. "And won't be coming in today."

Red nodded his head, looking rather perplexed. A look he used to hide the worry he felt and the deep regret of letting Lizzie know.

"That's peculiar."

"Why do you say that?" Cooper questioned, his interest peaked and it was clear to Red Cooper was after a case.

"I was speaking to her just this morning and she sounded fine." Red took a seat in the chair his jacket was now draped over. "I wanted to talk to her about the next name on my list." His voice was light and completely unaffected by Lizzie's absence.

Cooper eye Red suspiciously before turning around to Ressler, who stood obediently beside his boss. Ressler cut his eyes to Cooper and gave a small shrug.

"Call Agent Keen."

Lizzie rode down the elevator with her arms crossed over her chest, thoroughly pissed off. Ressler was accusing of her faking her sickness, demanding her to get to work immediately and that Reddington needed to speak to her. Why was that not surprising? Could he not give her some much-needed space? She was glad she felt anger seeping through her though, because the other half of her was a bundle of nerves. Seeing Red while being ill prepared for the encounter was not how it was meant to go. She felt but most importantly looked like crap, because she didn't have the time to shower or do her make-up. Her hair thrown into the messiest of buns and to make matters worse, she couldn't find her pair of work shoes so the pair she wore were far too small and hurt her feet.

She exited, her eyes cast down as she made her way over to Cooper, Ressler, Aram and Red. Four men. She hated them all.

"Agent Keen," Cooper addressed and she looked up at him, not impressed. She was sick! Sort of. When she glanced at the other people with him she was surprised that Red was not there. Aram was looking at her with big eyes full of sympathy and Ressler was looking a tad bad for her as well. It just showed that she must really look bad.

Red wasn't there.

"Reddington told us he has talked to you just this morning and you seemed well."

"He didn't call me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Lizzie nodded. "I would remember if he had called me. He hasn't. Where is he anyway?" She made a show of looking around even though he was the last person she wanted to see.

Cooper suddenly looked regretful. "I do apologise, Agent Keen. He left soon after and gave us the information."

Lizzie blinked, unsure of why Red had sent her to work if he wasn't even going to be there. How did he know she wasn't sick? At least the other three men watching her did seem genuinely sorry. Now she was here though, she wasn't interested in going home, where she would just sit and work herself up into a another frenzy. And if Red wasn't here, well, good. Because she couldn't focus with him being present.

"So, who did he give us?"

Lizzie arrived home early from work because Cooper needed her to go find Red and ask him something about the case. She agreed happily even though she wasn't sure how she was going to do it. She wasn't ready to speak to him but she knew it was unfair to ignore him for any longer than she already had.

After a glass of wine she would ring him. That was her smart plan that took a little over three days to come up with. She hadn't got as far as deciding what to say yet, but she was hoping that would come by itself.

There was no need to bother gaining the courage to ring him, because the knock on her door could be only from one person. Thanking god she had showered at least, and though she was only dressed in tight black jeans and a baggy t-shirt, it could have been worse. She wiped her palms frantically down the thighs of her jeans as she got closer to her door.

When she opened it her gaze was low and she was confronted with his black dress shoes. They were nicely polished and interesting enough to keep looking at them for a while longer. Then, they shifted uncomfortably and her gaze snapped up to his face. A small, sheepish smile spread on him, one she had never seen before.

"Hi." She found it near impossible to hold his gaze, her eyes slipping to over his shoulder where Dembe stood by the door of his car.

"Can we talk?" He asked, waiting for an answer so he could give Dembe the signal to leave.

"Sure, yes." She nodded. "About the case?" She added, immediately regretting doing so.

Red waved to Dembe who nodded and hopped back inside the car, driving off down the road. Lizzie felt her stomach sink further because now they really were alone. She opened her door wider and step aside, letting him walk past her.

"Of course the case." His cheery voice sounded fake, about as fake as the smile he gave her as she lead him through to the living room. He looked around the space of the room and chose the single-seater which made her feel a little more at ease. She wouldn't have to sit next to him. Watching him sit down and brush some invisible lint off his jacket, his face tilted up to look at her. "What did you need to know?"

She almost gaped at his innocent, questioning face. The ability he had to just slip on a new, comfortable mask that acted as if nothing had happened between them. The ability he had to make it feel like she was the one who had opened up to him, and that he had absolutely nothing to feel awkward about.

"That.." She sat on the sofa opposite him, sitting on her hands to stop her fidgeting. "How do you know you have the right guy? He's done a lot for charity over the past ten years and his records are completely clean."

He observed her carefully, a small amount of pain and maybe embarrassment settling low in his stomach. In a way, in a dream scenario he was to arrive here and she was meant to tell him she felt something for him. He was meant to finally be able to reach out for her and touch her and tell her things. Tell her things she did that he was so very fond of. Instead, reality was in full motion and she seemed very eager to ignore it. As hard as that was to take, he wouldn't argue.

"It's just a charade, Lizzie." He replied cooly. "People do all sorts of things to make them look like a good Samaritan. Behind the scenes is a whole different story. He's the guy. We just need to catch him in the act."

"Yeah," Lizzie nodded, the tension in the air was so thick she wished her sofa would swallow her up then spit her out as a woman who had no trouble dealing with men. Men like Red. "Of course. Cooper was just wary that's all."

He nodded and stood from his seat. He nodded again to her as if he was about to leave, then he turned on his heel and started taking steps towards the hallway.

"Why did you tell them I wasn't sick?"

"Were you?" He asked, at a halt by the doorway but not making any move to turn around.

"No, but you didn't know that."

"My feelings for you don't change anything." He replied, this time turning around. His face was so calm and serious. "You still need to go to work, Lizzie."

"I was going to go," she said defensively, pulling her hands out from under her highs and wringing them together. "I just needed space."

"From me, not your work. That's why I left."

"You came here."

She had a good point there. Coming into her home wasn't giving her space at all. He took a deep breath which sounded loud in the quietness of her home and as he let it out he made his way out of the living room, with all intentions to leave.

"You can't just walk away." Lizzie found herself saying as she lifted herself off the couch to follow him. "You need to-"

"I need to what?" He asked abruptly, turning around carefully, his forehead wrinkling. "I've told you, Lizzie."

"You need to I don't know-" She shook her head, blaming him for her own faults. "What am I meant to do with that?" Her voice came out weak and desperate and she hated how she needed his help.

"I shouldn't have told you."

Conflicted, she lightly kicked the doorway with her sock covered foot. "I don't know."

Red's hand leant against the wall and she glanced at the back of his hand. The veins and the fine hairs she had never noticed before. She had never looked at him closely enough. She imagined holding his hand again, whenever she wanted to. She imagined his hand cupping her cheek again and the way his thumb brushes her skin so tenderly that it warmed her whole body. She thought about him touching her skin in places that she would never have thought possible coming from him. Her body slightly weakened and she rested her hand on her hip, gripped her shirt tightly.

Oblivious to her thoughts, Red spoke gently, making sure she knew he was here for her. To care for her no matter what she felt for him. "Call me, Lizzie. If you need anything work related."

"What if it's not work related?"

"Call me if you need anything," he corrected himself, giving her a more open smile. He opened her front door while shuffling in his pocket to retrieve his phone so he could call Dembe.

Lizzie bit her bottom lip, watching the man who four days ago she was wishing had paid more attention to her. Where she was jealous of the way he acted with Linda. Now it was happening, what she wanted, she shied away from him, the feelings he shared with her far too strong for her to process.

When she knew he was about to leave she addressed him. "Red.."

"Don't feel obliged to explain." He told her softly. "You don't need to say anything."

"I'm scared." She replied quietly, not wanting him to leave her yet. "Because it does change everything."

"Only if we let it," he responded, pocketing his phone again because he sensed from the way she leaned closer that she needed to talk still. "And we don't have to. Just tell me not to." He smiled before adding, "I can act very well."

He was attempting to make her laugh but her head shook slightly, and as the hair fell across her eyes he reached out without thinking to carefully brush it away. She didn't flinch but her eyes followed his hand, like every other time he did it. Once out of her eyes his hand stilled on her cheek, and now that his fingers were resting on her softness again he couldn't pull his hand away.

"I didn't mean to fall in love with you, Lizzie."

She tried to understand and decode the feelings racing through her as she listened to him, as the back of his fingers lay on her heated cheek. She liked him. It came clear to her the moment she started taking note of the way she smiled when he spoke to her about something so off topic, or the way she would freeze slightly when his hand would first rest on her lower back, or when at nights her thoughts started drifting to him and wondering what he would be doing at the exact moment she was laying in bed. She often wondered if he was thinking of her, and in what way.

She smiled at her thoughts and Red could feel the lift of her cheek under his fingers. His hand moved away only so he could see her smile before she let it disappear.

"What are you thinking about?"

She turned from him and rested against the wall. Leaning her back against it, something within her was pushing at her to speak up. Something a little more fierce overtook the butterflies in her belly. And remembering his words from Friday, she spoke.

"Why do you think I willingly go out with you every Friday night?"

His expression immediately changed to something that looked a little on edge. She waited a beat but his expression didn't change. She had put him on edge and it felt good because he did the same to her.

"And why do you think after every night out I accept your invitation for a drink?"

"Lizzie," he warned, his tone skeptical because he was not prepared to have her tease him like this.

The hand he had resting at his side dug into his pocket and Lizzie could see his fingers fidgeting under the fabric. It was a strange sight to see. Red had been so different with her on Friday and now. So much more hesitant about his actions and words. He even stood a little more restlessly, a nervous energy surrounding him.

"I think about you a lot." She smiled shyly, her lips parting ever so slightly at her own honesty. Her eyes lifted to his heated gaze, the only part of him that remained still and on her.

"What do you think about?"

He was curious now and perhaps a little hopeful. Easing his skeptical mind is what she should do, but the nervousness she had around him earlier came back in full force. Telling him what she thought about him would certainly change everything. Would he kiss her? And hold her and take her to her bedroom? God, she should have had more wine. She swallowed thickly, in the back of her mind wishing Dembe would come and knock on her door so Red would leave. The hallway stayed silent though, and she was sure he hadn't even text Dembe.

So, being frustrating like he often was with her, she replied carefully.

"What do you think I think about?"

He chuckled then, and hung his head back a little in grief. His eyes shone with amusement as he looked back at her and he shook his head.

"I'm not a mind reader, sweetheart."

That was a pity, Lizzie thought because it would be very helpful right at this moment.

"This is hard for me, you know."

"I know," he nodded. "Should I leave?"

"No," Lizzie shook her head, taking a step backwards, planning on moving their conversation into the living room, and hoping he would follow her. He didn't. He remained firmly planted to the ground by the front door.

"Are you coming?"

"No, not if i have to leave again tonight." He told her, pressuring her a tad but leaving the decision in her hands.

Her eyes widened at his comment and her mind quickly went awol, wondering if her room was tidy and wondering if she had shaved her legs yesterday or not. She wasn't sure why her thoughts were going off course to something a lot more physical when he hadn't even hinted at it. But if he didn't plan on leaving? Surly that was enough of a suggestion. Her heart was beating against her chest rapidly and she hoped to god he couldn't hear it because it was ringing loudly in her ears.

"You can stay."

"Are you sure?"

No.

"Yes."

He followed her closely and when she sat down on the two person sofa he sat down next to her. They both looked straight forward, each keeping to their side of the couch and making sure not to make any physical contact.

Lizzie cleared her throat in the awkward silence. "Would you like a drink?"

"Let me get it," Red replied, standing up before she could object. "Would you like more wine?"

Lizzie stared down at her half empty glass and she mused that he should grab the second bottle out of the cupboard and they could just have one each. She nodded instead and reached for her glass to down it quickly before he topped it up.

Listening to him rustle around in her kitchen gave her enough time to collect herself. She tucked away a few strands of hair and pulled on the shirt she was wearing trying desperately to rid of the unwelcome wrinkles. When Red sat down and refilled her glass, Lizzie found herself openly staring at him. Passing her the glass she smiled her thanks but placed it on the small table in front of them.

There was something so comforting about him as he sat down again. The way his lips paused on the rim of the glass before her took a sip. How he purposely avoided her even though it was obvious she was watching him. Was she falling in love with him right now? At this very moment? Or was she already? She became overwhelmed with her feelings, suddenly aching to reach out to him and curl in his chest, with his strong arms wrapping around her. She wanted to lay with him, by his side and have him hold her and keep her warm.

"A very small part of me Lizzie, the only decent part of me, is hoping you will tell me you don't feel the same." He turned to look at her, interrupting her wandering thoughts. "But the majority of me, the selfish side wants nothing more than you. And for you to feel the same."

Lizzie's knees twitched as she listened. The sweetness of his words pulling on her heart strings. She inched closer to him on the sofa, just crossing the line that separated them.

"Well," She kept her voice steady. "Unfortunately for the small part of you, Red." She stared at the buttons of his shirt. "I feel the same."

His heart suddenly thumped an irregular beat as she brushed her lips across his, very quickly, too quickly. Her hand rested innocently on his knee, and when her forehead rested against his, his swallows became loud and more frequent.

"I'm feeling like I can barely breathe," he commented quietly, his hands still by his side, afraid to reach out and touch her.

His breath blew lightly on her lips, tingly her entire body, her body which enjoyed the shiver that ran down her back. She had to, with all her stamina, resist the pull to brush her lips across his again. Not yet anyway.

She bumped her forehead lightly with his. "Touch me."

His body tensed.

"Red.."

"Are you sure?" He leaned back from her. "Lizzie, are you one hundred percent sure?"

She nodded, a smile forming on her lips. "Yeah."

Very carefully, Red leaned into her, his lips lingering close to hers as he watched the flutter of her eyelids as they closed, expecting him to kiss her. The relaxed look on her face was beautiful, she was beautiful and he shook his head slightly in astonishment as he leaned in closer. Not quite believing this moment was real.

"You're crazy." He whispered brushing her lips with his. "You're so crazy, Lizzie."

She smiled against his lips, feeling his hand finally come to rest on her hip. She ran her hand up his thigh, leaving it to lay dangerously close to the zip of his pants. When she opened her mouth to his she leaned closer, allowing him to deepen it, the feeling of his tongue pushing its way into her mouth, sliding over hers, made her grip her hand and squeeze his pants. Her heart was still loud in in ears, but their loud breathing mixing together was so nice to hear.

His thumb brushed under her t-shirt but before he moved his hand underneath he rubbed his hand over her shirt. "Is this alright?"

She removed her lips from his cheek just before she started to pepper him with kisses. She looked up at him, her lips a little swollen and her cheeks flushed. She felt a little light-headed now but want filled her when she thought about the fact they were still fully clothed. She smiled at him again, and fell into his chest, wrapping her arms around him. She felt so close to him.

"Keep going," She said quietly into his ear, encouraging him on. "Because I think I love you."

His hands slipped up her shirt immediately at her words and stroked over her warm skin, running over her stomach making her muscles quiver. He heard her moan quietly and he brushed his thumb just under the edge of her bra. "I don't want to ever let you go." He spoke into her ear. "Lizzie."

Her breath hitched in her throat and she just pulled him closer, eagering on his hands to touch her more. "I don't even know what to say to that," she breathed out. "Please don't stop though."

THE END!