Firstly, I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. I am just a huge fan.

Thank you so much for being so kind! I really appreciate it! Hope this one is all right?

Chapter 4

By the time Tom came home from work, Liz was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich. Her appetite these past few days had been crazy. She wasn't sure where the sudden change came from, but all she knew was that she was eating more than usual. It was as though her appetite for food couldn't be satiated.

He paused in the doorway as he looked at her, carrying a plastic bag. "I hope you're still hungry because I brought home Chinese?" It was their thing; On a particular day of the week, they would buy takeout. This week was Tom's turn.

She wiped breadcrumbs off her face hastily with her hand, moaning loudly. "Mm, yes please. I love Chinese."

"Yes, I know you do. Which is why I got some on the way home."

"My appetite has been so weird lately, Tom. For the past few days I've been constantly hungry and I have no idea why."

"Then I hope you still have room for more?"

"Definitely. I think I can manage. I had a big lunch on my break, and yet, here I am... starving still."

"Maybe its because you've been working out more than you usually do?" He suggested while placing the bag on the sink, pulling out the takeout containers. It was true and Liz had been working out more lately. It was the chance of seeing Raymond that was now acting as her motivator. "To see that feral dog that you seem so obsessed with?"

"Feral? You make him sound like he's Cujo?" She laughed through a mouthful of her sandwich. "He's definitely something but I wouldn't say he's feral, Tom." She swallowed down the mouthful of bread, hesitating. There was something she wanted to ask him; something she had been thinking about all day. She had no idea how he would react to it, but she figured there was no harm in seeing. "Um, so... I was thinking about it today while doing my psychology course, but how would you feel if we adopted another dog into the family?"

Tom made a face at her. "And by another dog, you mean Raymond. Right?" Just by the look on his face, she knew he wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea.

"I just... I feel it wouldn't be such a bad idea? I mean, he seems so... attached to me in such an unbelievably strange way. And, besides, I think Hudson could do well with another playmate?"

Tom paused from opening the containers, staring at her while placing his hands on his hips. Yes, he definitely was not keen on the idea.

"What? You don't think he's even just the slightest bit cute?"

"Cute? Yeah, Raymond looked pretty damn cute to me when he looked as though he wanted to maul my face straight off my skull when he followed you home from the park this morning, Liz."

"Maul your face off? He's probably just... cautious of certain people? He had never met you before, whereas he's grown used to me?" It was the only logical explanation she could think of.

"Or maybe he just wanted to maul my face right off because he's become possessive of you and sees you as his now?"

"Sees me as his?" She still found it so ridiculous when he put it that way. "I really don't think that was it. I don't think dogs even actually think that way."

"Well, we'll never really know how dogs think, will we, Liz?"

Tom's voice had risen and she realized she was frustrating him. Usually they hardly ever fought or got into many arguments, but right now, on this subject, he obviously wasn't having any of it.

"Besides, I thought you said you met his owner?"

"Yeah, and that's what I thought too. I thought he was his owner." Liz sighed loudly, shoving the rest of her bitten sandwich onto the plate, her appetite diminished. "But you don't see him sitting there at the park like I do every time I go there, Tom. He looks so...lonely. I'm not even sure if that man was his owner, but I just... I assumed he was. But he's never there with him."

"Well, we can't exactly adopt him if he belongs to someone else, can we?" Tom pointed out in a gentle, patient tone. She knew it was his way of reasoning her out of it. "If he's someone else's dog already, then there is no point, is there?"

Liz rubbed her eyes with her fingers, her face tight with concern. "I don't know. It just seems like his owner is neglectful if he is never there at the park with him, Tom? It's like he lets him run around all day, regardless of how unsafe it could be. You know how busy the traffic gets. I just... I don't like the idea of him getting run over, that's all."

"Look, I just don't feel comfortable with the idea of us adopting this dog, that's all. I mean, you've only met him three or four times, and yeah... he seems pretty friendly to you. But to me he wasn't and..." He sighed loudly. "I don't know about you, babe, but I just wouldn't feel comfortable with that dog in the house." He stopped to rub his fingers over his forehead in irritation. "I wouldn't even be able to sleep half the time, if I knew he was downstairs sleeping next to Hudson. I'd be paranoid all the time that he would sneak up into the bedroom just to attack me for simply being next to you!"

"Okay, Tom," she agreed in a placating tone, lifting a hand in the air. "So you don't want another dog. You don't want a dog like him in the house. I'm sorry I even broached the subject. Clearly you've had a very long and stressful day at work so I'm sorry. I won't talk about it ever again with you."

"Good. I'm glad you understand then," Tom muttered sourly. "Let's just stop talking about this. Thank you."

But even although Liz promised not to talk about the subject anymore, it still didn't prevent her from thinking about it.

"I just don't understand any of it," Liz said loudly with a mouthful of toothpaste as she brushed her teeth after dinner, getting ready for bed. She peered out into the bedroom where Tom was chucking the decorative pillows on their bed onto the ground in a pile. "Hudson has never responded to you in an overly aggressive way, has he?"

So much for not talking about it...

Tom sighed loudly as he took off his glasses, sitting them near the lamp on the bedside table. "I don't think so, Liz." He sounded bored by the conversation, but she just couldn't help talking about it. "There was one time where he bit my hand and made me bleed last year. Remember that? He was only play-fighting, though."

Liz spat the toothpaste in the sink, rinsing her toothbrush under the tap quickly. "I've heard that dogs are supposed to have really good insight into a person's character, yet Hudson doesn't feel threatened with you at all, so I don't understand the reaction? Hudson's a dog too, and yet he has no problem with you? He doesn't sense any threat there?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know what it means or why he got his hackles up the way he did, Liz? I'm a teacher that deals with forth grade students, not a behavioral expert on dogs." She was definitely irritating him. "I just don't understand why you want to talk about it so much?"

"I don't know, babe." She shrugged helplessly. "I guess I just... I find it strange. And interesting. And... peculiar the way he reacted to you. Maybe it's just a Husky thing and the kind of temperament they have? I don't know." He turned to give her an annoyed look while he pulled back the bed-sheets, and Liz made a deliberate and conscious decision to drop it then.

The alarm went off at seven-thirty the next morning. Liz quickly shifted onto her side to switch it off when she heard Tom groan loudly. She slipped out of bed, heading into the bathroom to get changed into her workout gear. By the time she had reached the park, she felt exhausted as she looked around for Raymond.

When her eyes found him sitting near the empty bench, a full bright smile spread across her face at the sight of him.

Why wouldn't Tom let them adopt him? It wasn't fair.

While she was aware that Raymond already had a owner in the man Dembe, it didn't seem as though he actually cared about Raymond's safety too much if he let him have free reign to do whatever he pleased in roaming around, sitting in the park of a morning.

Liz plopped down onto her knees on the grass, which sent Raymond scampering over towards her, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he made whining noises in excitement. If she had to be honest, she loved this; She loved the idea that Raymond only went and sat at the park for the sole purpose of waiting for her. It made Liz feel special.

"Good morning, Raymond," she whispered softly once he reached her. He raised his head slightly, seeming to sniff the air surrounding them.

When she patted the spot in front of her, Raymond sat with Liz on the grass, sprawling out with his head resting on his two front paws as he crisscrossed them.

"So you didn't like Tom much yesterday, huh?" she asked uncertainly. "We've been dating for almost over a year now. He has his moments but he is a... a really great guy. He teaches forth grade." She was beyond caring how stupid it was to try to maintain conversation with a dog that couldn't respond back in any shape or form. But, to be honest, she found she was enjoying it. He couldn't pass judgement on her in anyway, because it was physically impossible for him to. "You really scared him, though. Now he gets the impression you're like a rabid Cujo. I think he's petrified of you but... something tells me you wanted that, didn't you?"

When she lifted her hand, about to pat his head, he lifted his muzzle, his long pink tongue flicking out around the scar on her wrist. Then he stopped, sniffing at the skin curiously before giving it one last tentative lick. It seemed to Liz that he was asking about it.

"You want to know what that is? What it is on my hand? One of your brothers or sisters gave it to me..."

Raymond lifted his head to the side, staring up at her, his ears twitching.

"There was a fire at my house when I was little. I was about... four or five, I think. I remember my parents were shouting and I noticed the flames from the fire, it was burning the curtains... crawling up them, and yet... they didn't seem to pay me any attention. But then... I remember it sliding in from behind me. It was a...a dog."

She could remember like it was yesterday; Screaming for her Mommy and Daddy to listen, to help, only to see something a furry grey slivering in behind her.

"I don't remember whose dog it was, because... I was never allowed to have pets, so he definitely wasn't mine. But he saved my life that night." She bit down on her bottom lip with her teeth, suppressing an astonished laugh as she shook her head slowly. "My parents weren't listening and then suddenly, he was there, just like that. I don't even know how he got in. Maybe through a window or maybe the front door was left ajar? I can't seem to remember that. But what I do remember is that the flames were coming closer to me, and there was this... great burst of heat. And you want to know what he did? The dog?"

She looked down at Raymond affectionately whose luminous, piercing eyes were still on her. It was as though he was engrossed in her story, strangely enough. As if he could actually comprehend what she was saying.

"Well, he grabbed me by my right hand, holding it in his mouth with his teeth, and he dragged me back away from the flames. His bite was so strong... I had no choice but to let him yank me all the way out of the house to safety. I don't think I really understood what he was trying to do at the time, this... strange dog. I think I thought he intended to hurt me, so I struggled."

She held her hand out, palm facing towards him, showing him the mark again. The pinkish red teeth marks hadn't completely healed, even after over twenty years.

"I think the struggling made it worse than it could have been. He obviously was only trying to cling onto me to get me to safety yet... with me struggling to get my hand free, it made his teeth go into the skin further. I think I had to have about... five stitches in my hand when I got to the hospital. That, and a rabies shot and antiseptic because we couldn't tell whether the dog had any infectious diseases that could be transferred over from the saliva into the wound that would make me sick. I remember being so terrified though, because... there was all of this blood and when I looked at the dog briefly, I think I remember he had specks of blood all over his fur and around his mouth, too."

Liz didn't have a clue what happened to the mysterious dog that had ended up rescuing her from the house. Considering it had happened quite a long time ago, she naturally had assumed the dog would have died by now, seeing as the average lifespan for a dog is between ten to sixteen years at average.

"I don't know what happened to the dog, though," she admitted to Raymond contemplatively. "He must have ran off straight afterwards, which... was probably best. I tried to tell them afterwards that he had saved me, that the dog pulled me out of the house, only none of the adults believed me. I was just a little girl, after all. They just kept ignoring me and going on and on about sending out the dogcatchers to find him. They were going to euthanize him, I think."

She could remember the way he had left her there, standing on the grass, crying as she cradled her bleeding hand to her stomach while she waited for the ambulance and firemen to arrive.

He had a particular limp to his back legs and when he had paused for a moment to twist his head back to look at her, she remembered seeing how strange and mangled his fur had looked as his eyes glowed at her through the dark. It had looked as though the fur had been singed straight off him, which, now that she was older, she understood it must have been because the fire had gotten at him.

She couldn't even remember what actual breed the dog had been or what he had looked like, at the very least. Just small fragments, like how his fur appeared white. Time had made the memories foggier and unclear.

"I'm pretty sure he got burnt. I think I... remember him panting and making little sad huffs, like he was hurting. A spot on his fur was charred and black, and bloody. I think he got hurt saving me, but I don't know what happened to him after he left and ran off. It was good that he left, though. They would have put him down otherwise, but I hope now... wherever he is, that he is somewhere at peace and is happy." She sighed loudly.

It sank in how ridiculous she was being with having an in-depth, one-sided conversation with a dog, when she glanced down at Raymond as he grunted. At least she could actually say whatever she wanted to him, without having to fear what he would think, or whether he found her theory about the dog saving her ludicrous. That part of it was nice. He was still watching her and she felt absurdly emotional when he came closer, resting his head on her knee. She felt moisture prickle in her eyes.

"I think that's why I ended up loving doggies like you so much," she said in a purposefully brighter voice, and she used her fingernails to scratch his head. "What they are capable of doing for a human, to save a little girls life all because they heard her screams, it... its amazing."

Hope you enjoyed this one?

No human Red in this chapter but there will be plenty of him next chapter, I promise. So I altered the original fire story-line and have possibly turned it into something illogical and silly, but I do hope you won't mind? Or is it too ridiculous? Thank you so much for reading and for the lovely reviews I have received! It has made my day! Please do keep them coming!