Chapter 12

It had to be morning, but very early. The light behind the curtains were a shade of grey. When Elizabeth grabbed her clothes, shuffling back into her tank top and underwear quickly, she felt as if she could not think straight. She would have liked to wake Kenneth up, despite how insulting and rude it may have been. She had a lot of questions due to those passports in his bag. She felt so confused.

But she decided to not think of it right now, otherwise she would be panicking. It was better to just forget it for the time being and focus solely on doing what she had to do until he woke. There was nothing she could do while he was still fast asleep the way he was.

She wondered if she should try to make breakfast as a way to keep her mind preoccupied until he woke to take her to school. Was that what she was supposed to do after sharing a bed with a man and having sex with him last night? She did not know. She wasn't even sure if there was some proper etiquette to follow. She had never slept in bed with a man before, romantically, and she certainly had not ever had one make love to her.

Parts of her were changed forever when she didn't even know the rules to play by, even if there were any to begin with. The act had happened without her even being aware of any, so she wondered if it weren't fine to simply act naturally and as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

She stopped to listen to Kenneth's heavy breathing and snores one last time before she left the guest bedroom, heading downstairs to the bathroom. She felt relieved that he had not woken and caught her out in the act of snooping through the passports in his bag.

She still was not sure what all of those passports with the different names had meant, but if there was one thing that she understood quite clearly, it was that obviously Kenneth was not being completely one hundred percent honest with her.

The photographs used on the passports had definitely been of Kenneth though, and she could not pretend otherwise. All shots were the same. It was the different names on each one that made a funny kind of hurt in her throat. She was starting to become even more anxious at the thought of it when she flushed the toilet, washing her hands under the tap. Was Kenneth Rathers even his real name? Or was it one of the other names on the passports? Roger Raymond or Bill Houston? She was not even sure what she was supposed to call him now.

A part of her felt tricked. Betrayed. Cheated. She had given herself to him in such a special, private way, and evidently he was lying to her about his true identity and just who he really was. Why would he feel the need to lie? What good reason did somebody have to lie about their identity? The feeling of hurt and confusion was so profound she began to ache in places she wasn't even aware. She bit her lip as she bent down to cup water into her palms, splashing it over her suddenly hot face.

She did not even know how she was going to bare talking to him once he woke. How did she react normal around him? Should she confront him about the passports? Would he get angry if she did?

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror as she used a soft white face towel to pat her skin dry. She tried to see if she looked any different. To her surprise, there was not any mark or stamp on her forehead that told the world that she had lost her virginity to the much older friend of her father's. Her cheeks were still rather flushed but she was feeling warm from the shock of the passports, and her lips seemed a deeper shade of pink.

She recalled his kisses, on every part of her body, her neck, her thighs, and the light nibbles from his teeth. Carefully she turned her head here and there, examining her neck and around her throat. Then she glanced down at her thighs out of curiosity, turning her knees inward, both to see if there were any noticeable marks. There was at least nothing prominent there that couldn't easily be explained by anything else. All in all, she looked the same as she always had, despite feeling different inside.

Fully awake now that she had splashed water on her face, she switched off the light and walked out of the bathroom into the kitchen. She caught sight of the illuminated numbers of the time and saw it was still only six thirty in the morning. The blinds in the kitchen had been left open from last night, a soft, grey light seeping into the room.

She would try to make breakfast, she decided, moving towards the fridge to look inside at the contents, however minimal there were. She was terrible at cooking and the thought of messing it up in front of Kenneth made her feel embarrassed, but it was also something she found she very much wanted to do for him. He would appreciate that, wouldn't he? If she went out of her way to make him breakfast after last night?

They didn't have much to use, as far as cooking ingredients went. There were two eggs, a carton of milk, and butter. She could have made scrambled eggs but she was not completely sure on how to do the recipe right. She opened the door to the freezer, her eyes landing on a prepacked box of waffles that she had forgotten about. Her father had brought them from the grocery store ages ago.

She pulled the cold box out while moving towards the stove, clicking it on to the highest temperature level while reaching down to find a pan under the sink to cook with. It was going to be a bit of trial and error, but hopefully she would get it right. How hard could it be to cook waffles that were straight out from inside the box?

When she plopped in two frozen waffles into the pan, it occurred to her that she might need cooking oil. At the precise moment when she had poured in a careless amount over the waffles, it erupted into immediate sizzling flames, frightening her.

She made a loud noise and it was this noise that woke Red, though thanks to the frantic banging and clanging of kitchen utensils downstairs and the panicked noises Lizzy was making made him completely aware that she had gotten herself into some spot of bother.

He had no idea what time it was or when it was that she had gotten out of bed to leave him alone, shivering nakedly on top of the cool sheets exactly, but all he knew was that she had obviously gone downstairs at some point and she was somewhere in the kitchen, it seemed.

He arched up onto his elbows, blinking heavily through blurry vision, his mind slow and groggy from being abruptly shaken awake by all the dreadful racket she was making downstairs.

Then all hell broke loose as the fire alarm started going off, loud and piercing.

His heart raced in apprehension and he could feel his breathing go shallow with panic. He shot up off the bed, stumbling ungracefully to find his pair of jeans. He noticed in the back of his mind that his bag of belongings were strewn further away from where he had placed it safely hidden under the bed, though that was not important at this moment in time. What was mostly important was understanding what was happening with Lizzy and why the fire alarm system was making such God awful noise the way it was at such an early time of the morning.

He found his jeans, sliding his legs into them and yanking them up hurriedly. Then he found his shirt on the floor. He shoved his arms into the sleeves but did not bother buttoning it up, instead in favor of jumping straight into action in racing downstairs towards the kitchen.

The smell assaulted him before he saw it. The horrible, nostril-stinging stench of smoke.

He skidded to a halt in the entryway of the kitchen, breathing heavily, noticing all of the smoke and the flames sizzling away in the pan on the stove. It was truly no wonder the fire alarm had been set off in the house then. Lizzy was going berserk, rushing to fill a glass up with tap water in order to throw it into the pan, trying to put out the flames.

It was the mere fact that she was just standing there, getting too close to the flames and putting herself at risk that bothered him more than anything else. He felt the anger burn in his chest similar to indigestion as he went into immediate action, stalking up to her from behind. He caught her with two arms tight around the waist, pulling her back away from all the smoke and the flames with his body weight, all 115 pounds of her, making her stumble backwards against him.

In that exact second, he was reminded of what he had done for her when she was a little girl. He had done the exact same thing back then; Grabbing her, hoisting her away to safety. The similarity of that from then to now was startling to him.

It was happening all over again, his mind registered unpleasantly. It was like the fire was happening all over again, and he could not believe the sheer audacity she had by now to be so careless, particularly after the tremendously difficult childhood she had experienced the way she had. To put herself directly in harms way, it made him so aggravated with her. Surely she would have known better by now, wouldn't she? Had she learned nothing over the years?

"You silly, careless girl," he muttered in annoyance before he could stop himself, chiding her. "Stay right there where I put you," he instructed her roughly.

He unwound his arms from around her waist, leaving her at a safe distance near the furthest wall of the kitchen while he worked at eliminating the situation himself, shaking his head in dismay all the while. He gripped the handle on the frying pan, transferring it over into the sink quickly when it began to burn his palm, shoving on the running water at its maximum flow to drown the flames and effectively put them out. The constant high-pitched wailing of the fire alarm was the last straw that broke the camels back.

"Instead of standing around there uselessly, wave this around near the fire alarm so that it stops making all of that dreadful racket, will you?" He tore the old stained dishtowel off its hanger, chucking it in Lizzy's direction. Again, he noted how harsh his voice was when directed towards her, and he winced before turning back to the stove to switch it off.

He hadn't intended to act so angry towards her, but he could not help it. He was angry, exceptionally so, but Lizzy was a grown woman now and surely she couldn't get halfway through her life, treated by adults as though she were this fragile girl wrapped up in cotton wool. He was just so, so disappointed in her.

"I'm sorry," he heard her speak loudly in embarrassment over the noise, and when he threw a look over at her, she was waving the dishtowel around, jumping up and down to get the smoke in the air away from the alarm frantically. "I... I don't know what happened. I was just trying to make breakfast!"

When Red could see that the flames had fully gone down in the pan, he turned off the tap, scrutinizing the sodden, inedible charred ingredients inside. Waffles. Lizzy had been trying to cook waffles for breakfast, and it both astounded and amused him that someone could make a failure out of such a seemingly simple thing to do.

"Guess the secrets out," she muttered once the fire alarm had stopped, trying to make light of the situation, though he did not appreciate the fact that she was. "I can't even cook something as basic as waffles straight out from a box. Like I said, I'm sorry."

"I don't want to hear you apologizing to me, Lizzy!" It tore out of his mouth before he could stop himself, his words a sharp and loud, tremulous outburst. Usually he prided himself on having a good grasp on his emotions but right now, it was difficult. "When something like this happens, you do not just stand there directly in front of the flames! You don't just stand there!"

He was shaking, he was that stressed and affected by what had happened. Did she not realize how close she had come? Did it not matter to her at all; how out of hand things could have quickly become, and just how hurt she could have been?

"Coming from a girl who had a traumatic childhood where she very nearly came close to dying in a house fire, I would assume that surely you would have known that!"

"I... I just wanted to make breakfast." Her voice was quiet and downtrodden. "I didn't realize that-"

"Well, now you do," he argued through gritted teeth, stepping closer towards her. "I admit that I expected so much better from you. I realize now that I... that perhaps I was wrong."

Elizabeth did not appreciate the tone that he was speaking to her in at all. It was frightening enough, having created such a sudden disaster while trying to cook and heat up waffles. Now Kenneth was speaking in tones similar to ones her father used whenever he disapproved of something she had done.

It was not in the tones of a lover that had participated in such a special, intimate act with her last night. It was like he was parenting her, and it made a tight, bitterness twist in her stomach. She did not understand why he was reacting this way; To her, he was badly overreacting. Why was he so mad at her? When he came closer to stand right in front of her, she shrunk against the wall, cowering slightly. She had not seen Kenneth look this way, or had him speak this way to her before.

He was cornering her into the wall and she could not help feeling ten times smaller than she was when he slipped his fingers around her chin, grasping it, turning her head upright and forcing her to meet his gaze.

"You won't ever put yourself into a situation like that again, Lizzy, do you understand?" He was not yelling at her exactly, but in this he did not need to. He kept his words low and stern, and it had the intended effect he was no doubt searching for. "Never again."

Her heart swelled heavily with guilt when she glanced up at his face fleetingly, her eyes falling to his lips. She saw the way the corner of his lip twitched and as she brought her eyes upwards to meet his gaze reluctantly, she was shocked to find it was not so much anger that was glistening there in his piercing green eyes at her. It was almost something similar to fear. Was he afraid for some reason? Or was it mainly about the passports she had discovered in his bag of belongings? Was he panicking due to that?

"I don't like it when you talk to me like this."

"Like what?" He blinked at her, startled. "How am I talking to you?"

"Just like your my father," she admitted apprehensively, jerking her chin out of his grasp. "Like you have a right to parent me on what I should and shouldn't do. You said it yourself one time. We're humans and we make mistakes. That's what I did just then, I made a mistake."

Red felt his anger soften dramatically at her words. It was unexpected, what she said to him, and he did not even consider himself acting in such a way to her that may be viewed as parental or patronizing. It hadn't occurred to him that she would interpret his behavior in that way. He tilted his head, raking his eyes down her body, the way she was standing up against the wall, barely clothed in anything else but the tank top and underwear that she had worn last night. Just like that, he recalled their night together, at how humbled he had felt, how lucky to be given the opportunity. But perhaps she was right? Perhaps he was going a little too overboard?

"I wasn't expecting you to do that, Lizzy. To make breakfast."

She turned her head, glancing off into another direction. "I wanted to," she said softly. He could sense that she was almost about to break down into tears. It had been a shock to him as well.

"I'm sorry. Come here," he said with a forced smile, widening his arms to her. He found that, more than anything, in that moment he wanted a chance to hold her, a chance to kiss her before things would have to change and Sam would be arriving back in.

In a moment they were embracing, his grasp tight, his chin perched on her hairline. What had just happened had shaken him terribly, and he could sense that Lizzy was in quite the same boat. It had just struck a nerve, the similarities to that night where she was much, much younger. The idea of coming close to losing her again, the idea of not being able to get there in time to save her and spare her life... it plagued him. He lifted his chin off her hair and arched back slightly, brushing his hand against her cheek as he bent down to lay a quick kiss on her lips.

"You must understand that it just hit too close to home." He moved to her cheek, covering it with more kisses, then her forehead, overwhelmed. "It brought back... terrible memories."

"Memories of what?" she asked breathlessly.

Red released a heavy sigh and pulled back to look down at her, looking deeply into her eyes, wishing to memorize them, to memorize every single part of her. He would be leaving soon to be on his way and, naturally, he could not stay and remain idle at the house.

She placed her hand on his cheek, and he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. It was amazing how her touch alone seemed to lighten his mood, his lips twitching into a smile despite the seriousness and heaviness of what he was referring to.

"Nothing," he forced himself to answer quietly once he brought his eyes open again. "Nothing at all."

He had an urge to tell her right then with such aching strength. To tell her everything.

About how he had been at her house the night of the fire, of how the fire started, of how she murdered her father because her parents were disputing and he was being physically violent towards her mother. He wanted to tell her that he was the one that took her to Sam, that he was the one that pulled her out of the flames. That he was Raymond Reddington, a wanted fugitive evading the F.B.I and law enforcement agencies, that Kenneth Rathers did not exist.

He imagined her reaction and knew it could not happen. Not now, not ever. He could easily imagine things getting loud, emotional... she would throw things, hurt him.

"How are you?" he asked, trying to think of other less unpleasant things to speak about instead. It occurred to him suddenly that he had not even asked how she was feeling after what had happened last night. He was being so incredibly negligent. "Are you feeling... all right after last night?" He touched her cheek again lightly, running his knuckles against her skin.

"Yeah, I... I'm fine. Just a little shaken after what happened when trying to make breakfast."

"Yes, I happen to be quite shaken myself. You are certainly not the only one."

Elizabeth could not help softening into Kenneth's embrace, a small smile coming across her lips. He was touching her, smoothing her hair and the strands back from her face, bestowing kisses onto her, being so gentle and affectionate in a way that made her feel as if she was soaring, tingling. His anger at her earlier had obviously been forgotten about. In the mood he was in, she felt tempted to ask him about the passports. He wouldn't get too angry with her, would he? It was not as if she had been deliberately snooping; the passports had just fallen out of his bag. It wasn't her fault.

But just as she had warmed up to the idea, he was speaking again. "I'm going to go take a shower. You'll have to go get dressed so that I can drive you to school on time," he said meaningfully, bending down to kiss her on the lips one last, lingering time before pushing her away gently. He had kissed her long and hard enough that her moment and chance was lost, the question left burning on her tongue unspoken.

I thank you so much for inspiring me to write. I do hope you liked this one. As usual, your thoughts would be great to hear! I always worry that writing them in character is something I've failed at so I hope they still are somewhat.

As in reference to the comment I received about my story being disgusting or gross because I am writing of them as a couple, I am sorry but I do not believe Red to be her father. He is definitely not her father- in terms of this story. I am not sure where the show will go but I do not necessarily feel he is her father in the show either. I respect your opinion but, as other reviews commented in response and I agree in, if you don't like this, then you do not need to read my writing. I am not holding you to with force. :) I am a Lizzington shipper (did not know that name existed until recently, I am a bit behind) so if you don't like, don't read. I never understand how people tear others down due to what they think or the context of the writing they want to write about.

That said, I hope all of you have a safe and happy Easter. My blessings!