"Lizzy." Red swallowed his drink casually. "I'm sor–"
"Are you all right?" Elizabeth practically snapped. "Is Dembe okay? What happened?" She exasperated.
"We're all fine. Just an unfortunate misunderstanding." Red propped his feet on a nearby table. The hollow echo of the wind rushing around the streamline jet, relaxing him greatly. "We should be landing in DC in about six hours." he hadn't actually asked, but he had traveled enough to know the time references from any given location.
Francis passed by, having closed the door to the restroom, heading to the galley. "Is that your pissy brunette?"
Liz's brow furrowed deeply, having heard the offhanded remark. "...Excuse me?" she tilted her head slightly."Who is that?"
"This is Francis." Red continued to sip his drink, "Not to worry sweetheart, you will never be graced by his presence, ever."
Francis took umbrage, "Say what?" he asked highly disgruntled. "Hey! I'll have you know I'm highly sought after."
"By the police." Red mumbled into the line, making her chuckle, which in turn made him smile.
"Many people love spending time with me." Francis continued his tirade. He ticked off on his fingers, "I have an amazing personality. I'm handsome, to be sure. And... I'm... I'm... "
"Modest?" Liz smiled gently into the phone.
"Modest is not a word that comes to mind when I think of Francis." Red played along. "Demented, on the other hand."
"I'll have you know that I can be incredibly modest." Francis insisted firmly. "Modesty is my middle name."
"That he disclaims, not the other." Red said enjoying the giggling coming over the line. "Would you like me to tell her your middle name?"
Francis backed off immediately, "We said we'd never discuss that again." he warned.
Red held his smile, "Do you mind, I'm on the phone here." he gestured.
"You're the one who dragged me into the conversation." Francis reminded peevishly.
Red rolled his eyes to the heavens, sighing. "Go to sleep, Francis." he said tiredly.
The man shrugged and settled into his chair, reclining the plush seat, dragging a blanket over his shoulders, falling blessedly silent.
"Speaking of sleep, when's the last time you had any?" Liz asked of the obviously exhausted man.
"I'm fine." he waved the question aside.
"Are you really okay?" Concern laced her voice.
"Yes, we're fine." he dismissed.
"I said... you." she reiterated.
Red was touched, his voice softening, "I'll come by the Blacksite as soon as I return." he promised.
It surprised him to realize that he really needed to see her. When it had become a need, he had no notion.
"Okay, I'll let you get some sleep then." she felt better. "Get some rest, Red. I mean it."
"I think you do." He hung up the phone gently.
Red had been asleep a little over an hour when the phone rang. He groggily felt for the object. "Yes." he rubbed bleary eyes.
"Reddington. I don't know if you've heard," a disconnected voice came over the line, "Carlos and Victor have been taken out."
Red blinked the sleep from his eyes, sitting up slowly. "By whom, anyone know?"
"If I had to guess, and I'd say it was a very good guess," the voice continued, "Carver."
"Are you sure?" Red shifted the kinks from his back.
"If not, we have a new loony stripping flesh from people then making a rug from it."
"Thank you for informing me." Red stared vacantly as he hung the phone up, lost in thought.
The new Blacklister he had in mind to hand over to the team would have to wait. A new danger was on the horizon. A deadly one.
Laying back in his seat, he willed his eyes to close. The burning in his gut increased two fold.
Things were about to get messy and violent, and there was nothing Red could do but try to catch the son of a bitch and make it all stop.
Elizabeth Keen stared at the phone, willing it to ring. For the past hour, there had been nothing. Even though Red had been in the middle of a fire fight earlier, he had been so blasé about the matter, that she felt she had no recourse but to wait for his return call.
She was so concerned that for a moment, she even considered tapping into his chip to pull up his location which would be an abuse of power, of course.
They weren't working a case right now. He wasn't technically needed.
But he was her asset...
She should know the welfare of the man, shouldn't she? She convinced herself that was the reason she felt so unsettled.
Liz sighed, kinking the tension from her neck.
One hour. She'd give him one hour and then call. If he didn't answer, she'd have him tracked, she decided.
After having cleaned her desk of the day's paperwork, she shut down the lights, heading out of the office, trudging tiredly to her car.
Most people would be dancing their way out to the parking lot after their work day, but she had another night of fast food and an empty house waiting for her.
Okay, so maybe that part wasn't so bad. She was more than glad Tom was gone.
The jerk.
"Let it go, Lizzy." she muttered to herself, backing out of the parking spot. "Great, I'm calling myself Lizzy." she sighed. "Even better, I'm talking to myself."
She drove down the darkened streets, glancing right and left at her food options. With it getting late, her choices were limited, but she finally zeroed in on Chinese take out and felt her stomach rumble in response.
"I know, 'feed you'." she growled back, pulling up in front of her Savior for the evening.
Elizabeth dashed in, intent on grabbing something quick, but then smelled the heavenly food and ordered enough to feed an army. But not all was lost. It did heat up really well the next day.
The woman grabbed her bags, heading home. An overwhelming desire to see Hudson invaded her thoughts, then she remembered in the next second... someone else had her dog.
"Don't even know where my damn dog is..." she grumbled, pulling up in front of the dark house.
She grabbed her things, wearily making her way up the stairs. Either she needed to add more cardio to her workout or these stairs were steeper than yesterday.
Elizabeth pulled up short, glancing back at the offending steps. That little excursion had been exhausting.
After pushing her way inside the doors, she dropped her purse and keys on the nearby surface. She exhaled a sigh of relief, kicking off her shoes, making a beeline for the couch.
She plopped down heavily into it's welcoming cushions, lifting her feet to the table.
She sat quietly, listening to the reassuring sounds of the house for a moment before grabbing a container of food, then the remote control.
She flipped through the channels mechanically, her agitation growing until finally she recognized something watchable. The woman sighed blissfully...
"Ahh, Mr. Darcy..." she smiled, "a better welcome home than I expected."
She settled into the comfort of the couch, nibbling at her food. Within moments she was lost in the delectable, brooding, and right now... quite deliciously wet, Colin Firth.
Maybe the day wasn't a complete loss after all.
During a short break in programming, she put her leftovers away, then started a load of laundry before settling back on the couch.
She immersed herself into Jane Austen's world, blocking the outside from her thoughts.
An hour later, she jolted awake and upright to the incessant ringing of her phone.
She fumbled for the object in the room, highlighted only by the light of the television screen. It seemed forever before she heard the reassuring sound of his voice.
Red...
After assuring herself that the man was fine, she enjoyed the short chat. This Francis person was an amusing character. She could hear his constant remarks in the background and Red's genuine annoyance amused her. He always seemed to surrounded himself with the most interesting people, to say the least.
Liz had told the older man to get some rest because he had sounded exhausted. Having hung up shortly after, she was in higher spirits and ready for bed.
Turning off the tv, she stood, stretching before heading upstairs.
She stepped in under the pounding spray which felt wonderful, the hot water of the shower beating down on her sore body, easing the aches.
A few minutes later, Liz grudgingly shut it down, finishing her nightly routine before crawling in between the sheets, moaning with relief. It felt like only seconds before her body molded to the bedding, her eyes drooping sleepily.
Glancing at the clock, the woman was surprised to find that she was actually getting to bed before midnight. An anomaly this week.
She yawned, curling into the comfort of her bed, falling asleep moments later.
Elizabeth's eyes popped open, her ears alert suddenly. She blinked her tired eyes, looking at the clock and finding only an hour had passed.
What the hell was she awake for then?
She stretched, listening to the dark, quiet house, hearing nothing but silence and the air being circulated.
That must have been it. She had just started using the air conditioner a couple days back and wasn't used to the sound yet.
She rolled over to her side, her legs closing together, an instant twinge infiltrating her body.
Not of pain, but arousal.
She hadn't felt that in a while.
The woman grasped her pillow closer, snuggling into it, sighing when the cloth of her t-shirt brushed against her breast. She was embarrassed to admit, even here in the privacy of her own room... that had felt really good.
"How hard up are you that your clothes turn you on?" she muttered in irritation. She wiggled into a more comfortable position only to feel her arousal heighten.
She slapped her hand irritably on the bed, sighing heavily.
"It's your fault Mr. Darcy." she huffed then dropped a hand between her legs.
She was surprised to find herself swollen and slick, her clit more than wanting of some attention.
Well, no matter. She'd just take the edge off, and go back to sleep.
Liz circled the peak of her sex, inching her closer to where she needed to be then increased the pressure on the bundle of nerves.
Sliding a hand under her shirt, she pulled and pinched her nipples, jerking into her hand in response.
She closed her eyes, floating in the haze of raising endorphins and pictured Darcy, with his dark penetrating gaze and ridiculously handsome face.
He was all of those things, handsome and brooding and prideful.
He had come to Elizabeth Bennet's defense when Miss Bingley had cuttingly diminished the other woman's fine eyes. He was a man's man, and yet so sensitive in that he scoured the streets to find Wickham, to fix Elizabeth's dire family situation.
The modern day Elizabeth had thought it so chivalrous. Romantic.
Red was a lot like Darcy, come to think of it.
Red was handsome, and there was an air about him... a confidence that was very attractive. It did not detract that the man knew it.
Or at the very least, he knew he wasn't hard to look at. With his dapper dress, confident swagger and charming good looks.
Elizabeth could see the attraction.
He was ruggedly handsome, very manly. He had very masculine features that were appealing. His eyes and lips certainly drew your attention, that was for sure.
Red had the most hypnotic shade of eye color, that seemed to change with his moods. When he was in a playful mood, they were the softest, clearest blue. But when he was mad, they took a hunter green hue that boarded on being black.
If his full lips weren't spouting five syllable words with ease, they were leisurely wrapped around a cigar, spouting articulate prose.
Sometimes they were pursed in agitation or twitching in barely held amusement, which was charming. She had learned however, when they were expressionless, holding no sort of emotion... the man was highly pissed.
Regardless of his mood, the man was fascinating.
She sensed that he was very experienced in the art of kissing and that he did it well... as everything else he attempted.
Red Reddington was a chameleon, even his physical being seemed to adapt to his surroundings in any given situation.
While he was fastidiously groomed, he wasn't above getting dirty. She had seen him covered in dirt, blood and other grime she couldn't specify but he looked completely comfortable in such filth. As though he and such things were old companions.
But then, he'd also been quietly seething at the time and couldn't be bothered by social niceties.
She had been so shocked by Red's unusually unkempt appearance, she could not look away from the sight. Which she found at once both oddly sensual in nature, and yet somehow comforting.
Liz remembered that night vividly. The man had a deep cut across his scalp which he didn't even appear to notice.
She never thought she'd be into balding men, but it somehow worked for Red.
She imagined that's what he had looked like in his military career. She knew he had longer hair and other varying styles through out the years, but something about that short shorn was where he appeared most comfortable.
After Tom and his six pack and sinewy body, the thought that Red with his little paunch and broader body would be more appealing was confusing.
She felt a measure of comfort with her former husband when Tom held her, but until Red had done the same, she noticed a decidedly marked difference.
Thinking back now, Tom had offered a token state of expected emotional support.
But Red in his warmth and bulk, spoke of safety and protection.
She had the hardest time not snuggling into Red's embrace. She wondered if he had noticed? When she felt that urge to cuddle into him, the man always tightened his hold, muttering soothingly to her. Often she found herself craving the contact.
Plain and simple, she found Red Reddington a very sexy man.
There was something about the way he talked, walked, stood... something, that spoke of an underlying sensuality that Tom couldn't begin to muster.
She had yet to meet a woman who didn't adore Red. They welcomed him with open arms or at the very least, unabashed flirtation. There was a definite underlying anticipation of wanting more from the man.
Even Madeline Pratt, in spite of the apparent bad blood between them, had turned on her sexuality when Red was present. It very obvious, she was still hopeful that he would offer her a weekend escape, if nothing else.
Elizabeth was more than intrigued. What the hell was he doing, or had done to them, that he had their continued loyalty and interest?
She personally could attest that Red was supportive and focused on her abilities, even when it appeared an older more experienced team leader like Ressler should have been his choice.
He bolstered her confidence when they had worked with Madeline. He had even escorted her on his arm like a gentleman, and had danced with her.
Granted, she had been stiff in his guidance, but ever the gentleman, he hadn't made fun of her lack of grace... too much.
"What the hell am I doing?" she whispered quietly to herself. "Get him out of your head."
She sighed, focusing back on Darcy, and how he gazed at Elizabeth Bennet.
Darcy's regard for his Elizabeth had grown, one could see it in his eyes or the subtle tilt of his lips. When Elizabeth had wept, the need to console, to hold her close had consumed the man.
For the first time, Darcy had met a situation he was incapable of handling. It had undone the man completely, shattering his usual reserve and confidence. He had finally broke, unable to take it any longer. He had rushed from the room, lest he do something improper.
Like take her in his arms, as he yearned to do.
Fitzwilliam Darcy was a man for all ages... especially if you were a woman.
Only Red's regard for women matched Darcy's, in Liz's opinion.
Red could stare at her sometimes, and she felt like the very center of his universe.
Which was probably silly to believe. In comparison to Red Reddington, she was a true simpleton. He was so worldly, so brilliant sometimes, thinking outside the box... where she was just trying to find her way out of the paper bag.
He never made her feel stupid. He did teach her however, coax her, guide her, but he'd wait for her to catch up if she was lost or slow on the uptake. She was learning to piece the clues together herself. He had taught her to think beyond the linear.
His intelligence, his ability to read people... she was completely captivated by it all.
"Damn, damn damn!" she gritted in annoyance. "Mr. Darcy, hot English guy! Looks great on the back of a horse."
She focused on that, how he had looked on the horse, then flashed on him in the long coat and how well he wore his clothes.
How he had made that ruffled neckline seem masculine, she'd never know. But he had done it and so remarkably well. Darcy was all kinds of hot. Even with the clothes of the day and that too tall hat, he looked amazing.
She had to admit, Darcy would probably look great in a fedora. But then, she hadn't seen anyone pull off the hat as well as Red. Sure, there were some old movie stars that wore it well, but Red owned it.
She had tried picturing it on Ressler, Aram and even Tom. But they always came out in her mind as looking like some boyish newspaper man working at the Daily Planet.
"What the hell am I doing!" she muttered tightly in confusion. "Focus..." she squeezed her eyes shut, sliding a finger into her core, petting her insides.
Darcy was so gentle when he had taken Elizabeth's hand when he helped her from the carriage. His support was steady, but his hold on her, delicate.
Red was a lot like that. He was constantly setting his hand on her back, guiding her into a room. He opened doors for her.
He offered an arm to steady her. He'd help her over slick spots or catch her from sliding in the snow or mud, depending where they were.
His hands seemed to engulf hers, his touch always feather light and gentle. Those same hands could be deadly and uncompromising to a foe.
Over the course of his illustrious career, how many women were thinking the same thoughts about Red that she found herself thinking? She didn't know if he was a wolf in sheep's clothing or was he truly just that gallant?
He was a paradox she found absolutely enthralling.
The woman wiggled her fingers harder against her pleasure center, increasing the attention to her breast and felt herself teetering on the edge of an amazing climax.
When he touched her, his hand spanned the entire width of her back, making her feel incredibly feminine. Though the touch was light, his presence was intense.
His hands were warm, his fingers thick and strong. How did he touch a woman? Was he as gentle as she was accustomed or was he demanding? Was he teasing or attentive?
Liz rocked her hips, aiding her hand in her goal and felt the tale tell signs she was nearing the peak of passion she so craved. She felt electric shocks intensifying, vibrating into her clit. Her nipples strained tightly against her shirt, rubbing tantalizingly against the soft cotton.
Her mind shut down as she allowed her body to dictate her next agenda...
She gritted her teeth harshly, growling into the pillow for the phone was suddenly ringing most incessantly... again.
"Damn it!" she muttered dejectedly, fighting harder for some sort of release. "Just a few more seconds," she squeezed her eyes tight, rocking harder against her tiring fingers, "please..."
The distraction fell thankfully silent, allowing her to refocus on Red's hand...
"Oh my God..." she gasped tightly, shoving her mound against her fingers, finally quaking and pulsing, her thighs shaking as the phone made it's presence known, yet again.
Liz slapped her hand to the night stand, grabbing the phone, her mood certainly no better having only achieved an essence of what she might have.
Her slick fingers, wet and shaking, hit the answer button. The phone dropped from her trembling hand, clattering loudly on the hard wood of the floor.
"Shit..." she panted her lost equilibrium, hanging over the side of the bed, fumbling for the object in the dark room.
"Sweetheart?" she could barely hear Red's tinny voice.
She grappled with the phone, the damned thing slipping just beyond each attempt.
"Lizzy?" the man called again. "Elizabeth!" he called out sternly.
She gripped the phone tightly, hastily bringing it to her ear. "Red..." she gulped breathlessly, the pulsing between her legs spiking.
"Sweetheart, are you all right?" Red's voice was laced with concern.
"Yeah..." she took a shaky breath, pushing hard against her sex, getting her nerves under control. She swallowed hard clearing her throat a little, giving herself a second to collect her breath. "I dropped the damned phone." she stated breathlessly. "What's up?" she asked a little too casually for one in the morning.
"You tell me?" he asked seriously. "Is something wrong?"
"What do you mean?" she asked shakily, not immediately following his line of thought.
"Is someone there with you?" he asked tightly.
"You mean like..." she blushed. "I mean..."
Oh my God. Did he think he called in the middle of her having sex with someone? Could he tell she'd just...
Oh God. What had just happened? Had she just masturbated thinking about... Red?
"Are you in danger?" he growled impatiently. "Can you talk freely?"
She jerked back into the headboard, shocked from her previous thoughts.
"I... uh..." she stammered. "W-What?!"
"Elizabeth, no one is that winded picking up a damn phone." he replied, his tone clipped and focused. "I called before and you didn't answer, now this."
"Look, I was sleeping, the phone startled me, I had... lotion on my hands..." she grimaced, for that explanation had not sounded as stupid in her head. Nor had she meant to blurt it out like an idiot, " and I dropped the phone..." she finished weakly.
"I see..." the tone was expressionless.
She couldn't be sure, but she was almost positive the bastard was smiling.
"And you're alone?" he repeated.
"Yes, I'm alone." she snapped.
"You're shaking."
Elizabeth looked down at her hand, lifting the shaking hand.
How the hell did he know that?
"I most certainly am not?" she defended herself staunchly, clenching her fists tightly.
"I can hear it in your voice." he drawled slowly.
"I'm fine." she swallowed heavily. "Why are you calling?"
Red was quiet for a beat, then sighed.
"I will be at the Post Office at nine to hand over a new case."
"Didn't we already discuss this?" she asked.
"No." Red smiled at her barely held vexation. "I only said I'd come to the Post Office, not when."
"Oh..." she pursed her lips, "right. What is thi–" she stopped, falling silent quickly when she heard the subtle whoosing sound, like a door opening.
"Liz–"
"Shh..." she hushed the man, straining to hear, her nerves jangling alarmingly.
She heard a muted sound from Red's end. Then silence.
"Sorry, I thought I heard something." she apologized, finally allowing herself a breath. "Where w–"
"What did you hear?" he asked tightly.
"I uh... nothing, I guess." she shrugged mentally.
"What did you hear?" he repeated, stressing his words.
"I thought I heard a door open... or something." she shrugged it off. "It was nothi–"
"You didn't set your alarm." he stated, knowing very well what the answer would be. She was horrible where her own safety was concerned.
"I... don't remember." she confessed weakly.
"Set it." he fairly demanded.
Liz could almost see his jaw working into a frenzy with that one expression and knew he wouldn't let up until she got out of her warm bed to set the damn thing.
And why she just didn't hang up on him, was a mystery. Or was it?
If she hung up, he'd just send his goons over to check on her.
But there was also the fact... that she didn't really want to hang up yet.
But why?
She sighed, rolling from the bed, huffing her annoyance before standing.
"My feet are cold." she complained... childishly.
"So put some socks on." he countered, listening as he perceived the small feet clumping grouchily to the keypad. He smiled slowly, because he knew she was punching those numbers as hard as humanly possible.
"Happy now?" her tone was more than snarky.
"Stop pouting." he scolded. "Especially since all I did was care for your well being." he turned his mouth away from the phone, nodding his consent to a patiently waiting Dembe. The large man turned on his heel instantly attending to the task assigned.
Liz's shoulders slumped, her tone filled with chagrin, "Sorry. I didn't mean to sound so bitchy."
"You're tired." Red brushed off her rudeness, just as he always did.
Come to think of it, he very rarely ever responded to her apologies except to make an excuse for her, just as he had this moment.
"Where is your weapon?" he enquired.
"Beside me." she reached over, pulling it closer, yawning. "Look, I think I just heard the central air kick on and I'm not used t–" she gasped, as the sound of sudden beeps disturbed the quiet, shocking her to the core.
She stared transfixed at the wide open portal of her bedroom door, her nervous system suddenly on high alert. She sat frozen, unsure of her next move.
"Lock your door!" Red demanded quickly, having heard the alarm being disarmed from inside the house.
Red's eyes flew to Dembe who was speaking with Elizabeth's security team on the ground. The man cursed the fact that he himself, was thirty-thousand feet in the air.
"What's wrong?" Francis had sat up from his comfortable position having noted his friends features and body language. The young man fell silent when Red held up a brisk hand.
Liz sprang from the bed, grabbing her gun, rushing for the door, her training kicking in. She stood rooted by the side of the wall every sense she possessed attuned to the sounds of her home.
"Lock the damn door." he directed brusquely. "Do not move from that room."
"Someone is in my house!" she hissed.
"And security is a minute away." he snapped. "I would rather they not shoot you."
Liz closed the door, locking it securely, waiting impatiently. She placed her ear to the door, listening for any movement. She wrapped her arm tightly around herself, warding off the cold which had suddenly invaded her body and mind.
She went numb as she heard quick footsteps on the hardwood floor downstairs.
"Are your guys inside my house?" she whispered huskily.
"Not yet." Red advised curtly.
"I heard footsteps." she hoped her voice did not belie her growing fear.
"How close?" was his only concern.
"Downstairs."
Red relayed the information to Dembe, who relayed it forward.
"Back door, Red." Liz guided the man's efforts having heard the sound quite distinctly.
"Back alley." Red orchestrated effortlessly, his voice an ever calming entity in Liz's world.
Normally, she would feel foolish standing here waiting, being an armed, trained FBI Agent. But she realized, the person had left the premises. Red's man had a better chance in locating the intruder.
She heard a car rev it's engine, then the catch of tires peeling down the street.
Red muttered aside, keeping abreast of the situation.
"What's going on?" Liz stated.
"My man saw a car speeding away from your area, he followed, got a make of the car." Red relayed. "He lost the car in the alleys two miles over."
She knew the area of which he spoke. It wasn't just a fork in the rode, it was a web of offshoots.
She really freaking hated DC streets sometimes.
"Who knows your alarm code?" the man turned his attention fully back to the woman.
"I changed the codes after Tom left." she said. "No one knows my codes...not even Aram."
It was ridiculously simple to break the codes on today's security devices, especially for someone as skilled as Tom. Red knew as much, but there was no need to worry the woman at this time.
He would have the matter looked into in the morning. Along with having her house swept for cameras, just on the off chance.
"You're about to hear your door open, it's only security." Red notified.
"Should I go down?" she offered.
"The back door is unlocked, Lizzy." the man reminded peevishly. "Stay where the hell you are... they're going to sweep the house and make sure it's empty."
"And I so wanted to sleep tonight." she quipped feebly.
"And you will." he promised. "There will be guards outside tonight."
"Those poor men." she sighed heavily.
"This is a normal shift for them, Lizzy."
She sat down on the bed, stretching her legs out, throwing the still warmed blankets over herself, then stared out into the darkened room.
"Lay down." Red soothed calmly. "Just relax."
She pulled the blankets higher under her chin, listening to the quiet chatter of Red as he spoke to Dembe. She could hear men moving around the house, totally reassured now.
"Is her door locked?" she heard Red ask some unknown individual.
"My damn door is loc–" she narrowed her eyes when she heard the handle jiggle, then Red scoff quietly.
"It's a wonder." he replied. "She never listens to me."
"I do too!" she complained around her yawn.
"Name one time you've done what I said the first go round." he asked, a smile in his voice, relaxed now that his men were there, protecting her.
She opened her mouth, then quickly closed it shut. She stared off into the darkness, trying hard to come up with a suitable answer.
"That's what I thought." Red grinned, pleased with his results. "Put your phone on speaker and sit it beside you. I'll wake you if needed."
"My bill will be outrageous." she muttered.
"I'll pay the damn bill." Red exhaled in exasperation. "And thank you for proving my point, again." he chuckled quietly. "Now, do it."
She did as asked and rolled to her side, yawning again, listening to Red's evened breathing.
"They're watching, you can rest." he reassured.
"You sleep too..." she yawned.
"I'll rest." he smiled softly, listening to her snuffle quietly as she drifted.
"Promise?" she mumbled sleepily, zoning off into his translucent voice talking, feeling herself float into a relaxed zen state.
"I promise." his eyes softened. "Sleep sweetheart..." Red coaxed. "I'm here..." he whispered quietly, as her breathing deepened as she fell into a peaceful sleep.