Red glanced up, instantly laying his book aside. He had arisen, his name beckoning him forward. The man leaned slightly, concern on his handsome face.
Liz struggled to speak again, and thankfully a straw was placed gently between her parched lips. She drank greedily. Sipping the cooled liquid slowly, she tried again but the sound remained deep in her throat.
"I'm here." He smiled sitting down next to her, smoothing her hair out of her face. Her eyes fluttered open, seeking the man's earnest gaze. "How do you feel?"
"Like I was attacked," she told the truth as she knew it, " by a blade wielding rabid dog."
The man held the cool water for her to drink her fill.
"An apt description," He chuckled, relieved to hear her voice.
She sought his countenance. "H-How long?"
"It's Sunday. You slept Saturday away." He checked his watch, then her person as he had the entire time he had been by her side. "What are you feeling?"
"Like I need a bathroom." If her bladder wasn't so full, Liz might have been embarrassed, but right now there was nothing but an urgent need.
"All right. Lets get you up..." With practiced ease and efficiency, he helped her to sit up and slide to the edge of the bed. "Let me do the work, just lean into me."
Standing her with little pain, he righted them both, taking the weight off her leg.
"Crutches?" she glanced around groggily.
After four tiny stilted steps, he damned her pride.
"To hell with it." Bending, he hooked his arms around her, picking her up with ease, walking quickly to the bathroom. Both worried and elated when she hadn't protested.
Setting her in front of the toilet, he braced her hand on the bar and turned, only to be stopped by her small voice, "How in the hell am I supposed to...do this?" She gestured to her cast, then her clothes.
Coming back, he looked her in the eye, understanding how difficult such a situation was for her. He placidly set his features.
"I won't look," He made work of the string holding the shorts. "I promise."
"I don't care right now," Liz squeezed her eyes shut, the need that pronounce, "ask me later after I've peed."
His lip rose in amusement. Hands at her hips, he pushed at the fabric, moving it quickly down to her thighs. Then helped her to the seat. "I'll just be out there..."
After a few seconds her stream started, her hand gripping the handrail, gasping with relief.
He walked away, giving her a sense of privacy.
He hoped that this didn't embarrass her because for the next couple of weeks at least, she was going to need someone to be there for these private moments.
The stream finally came to a trickle, then stopped. He heard a long sigh, "Thank you, God."
Putting down her toothbrush, he went back, undid the damage he had done, his manner verging on the professional.
"Thank you, Red. I'm..." She blushed a bit, but was truly thankful.
He gestured to the sink, distracting her. "You want to freshen up a bit?"
"I would kill to 'freshen up a bit'." After a few hobbled steps, she set her appreciative eyes on the available seat.
"You can't take a shower yet, for obvious reasons but a good sponge bath is just as refreshing." He handed her a soft cloth and soap, stepping back, turning around.
"This smells so good." Liz had stopped to sniff the fragrance. "It's just like the soap I use."
He hesitated, his steps slowing. "I sent Dembe back with Mr. Kaplan." He made mention. "They packed up your things."
A scowl crossed his brow briefly. "It's going to be difficult with that arm... isn't it?"
Liz looked about her person, the same thought having crossed her mind.
She stiffened her resolve gingerly handing the soap and cloth over to capable hands.
"I feel so lame." she muttered dejectedly.
"Loose the shirt." he dampened the cloth in hot water.
"I don't think so." Elizabeth started to object. "I can do this."
He waited patiently for her common sense to surface. At length she hesitantly begin to unbutton the shirt. The man shifted his head slightly when she removed it.
She bunched the garment, holding it protectively over her breasts.
Red wiped her revealed arms gently. Then proceeded to cleanse her. He continually reheated the cloth, at one point, dropping to his haunches, wiping away the last of the blood on her legs.
Her faint skin was still swirled with the now dried red fluid. It looked like a tan gone wrong.
"What happened to your hand?" Liz asked, grasping at anything to take her mind from the fact that his administrations felt so wonderful.
"Little accident." he grimaced slightly."It's nothing."
"Where are we?" she glanced around her surroundings, not recognizing the room.
"With Tom and Carver hanging around. I went ahead and moved us here. It's more secure."
She watched him wipe down her leg, running the cloth up to her thigh.
"Lizzy, I know you might not remember a lot..."
The woman wondered where the conversation was leading.
"Your injuries were... extensive. I just want to warn you." He bowed his head, hesitating momentarily, cloth poised in the air.
She realized that she hadn't even looked in the mirror. Looking up, she took in her appearance. Her complexion was so pale, the white gauze against the wounds looked dark. Her lip was split, scabbed slightly but healing.
She gasped, seeing the black threading haphazardly dotting her abused flesh.
She poked at one set of stitches, surprised it didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. It looked so grotesque, so ugly, that you would think that it would be as painful to touch as it was to see.
"My God..." She stuttered. She could hardly count the cuts, let alone the threads.
"He will pay, Lizzy." Red mumbled. "As God is my witness." the man knew he was set on automatic pilot these days. While he had no concrete plans at the moment, he knew sooner or later, his natural instinct would kick in.
That was the time he was looking most forward to... a time when he would face down his demons and in this particular case, her demon.
Carver... would... pay.
Their eyes met in the mirror. She looked away from the bleakness, shivering slightly. At times she almost forgot this man was Red Reddington.
"I guess it doesn't really matter. It's just, to see it..." she tried to shrug the matter away. "I can do the front." she gently gestured for the cloth.
"We'll have to change some of the dressings. So we're going to have to figure out how to do the front portion, sooner or later." He stopped when her head dropped.
"Lizzy. I know you're highly uncomfortable right now. But please, don't be." he stated more than asked.
"I know it might not help," He gave her the cloth, turning away, "but I've been in your shoes so many times... I've had to have someone help me in the bathroom, my hands were such a mess. As you can imagine, it's a bit more extensive for a male than just dropping drawers." he crooked his brow and tilted his head back and forth. "Probably not the best sight in the world, or feeling. And no... it wasn't Dembe."
Red turned to the pantry to give her privacy, taking his time in gathering supplies that he would need.
"I had buck shot in my back down to my ass, how do you think that was cared for?" he remembered that time, not too fondly. "I get it, your frustration and embarrassment, really I do."
"I understand what you're saying intellectually, Red." she took a cleansing breath. "I'll be okay. I just woke up. I'm still shaky, hungry. Disoriented" Liz built up her courage. "I'm a little vulnerable right now and not just because of this, I'll be fine." She freely admitted her weakness for once.
With that, she removed the barrier between them allowing it to drop aside. She smiled when Red ducked his head, appreciating his gesture.
"I'll hire a nurse for you." It had been on his agenda. "I don't know why I didn't do it yesterday?"
But between Mr. Kaplan allowing him to sleep and Harold calling every hour on the hour, there hadn't been a lot of time.
Washing up, methodically removing the red stain, she finally finished, handing the cloth back.
Red shifted behind her, soothingly rubbing at her back, removing the thick gauze with care.
Shivering with pleasure, she leaned into his touch.
"Are you cold?"
"No, it feels good." Why lie? If anyone needed something to feel good about right now, it was the woman.
His only response was to keep up the small circular patterns, which she so enjoyed.
"And you don't have to hire a nurse." she extended an olive branch. "It's only for a couple of days." Glancing back at him. "She won't have your touch, of course." she half-teased.
Red inwardly rejoiced, but hid his reaction well. "If she doesn't work out... I'm your man."
That was the problem, Liz was beginning to notice that more and more, of late. That Red Reddington was indeed, very much... a man.
The woman was shaky and weak by the end of the ordeal. Red got her situated on the small couch by the windows so she could look out on the bright sunlit day while they breakfasted.
The next hour was passed most pleasantly, at least in Red's point of view. His narratives had brought a few smiles and Liz had eaten well.
All in all, the day was looking up.
During the meal, Liz was stumped and surprised when Dembe entered the room carrying a deck lounge. He smiled that quick smile, disappeared into the bathroom then left silently.
Elizabeth placed her fork beside her plate, a question nagging at her.
"Was that my dog?"
"Probably your former dog." Red shrugged helplessly. "Dembe gave him a bath and treats. Now, if he's not following our friend around, like a little lost puppy. He's sleeping in his bed. They've become quite attached."
And they had. The dog had taken to Dembe's calm nature, staying with the large man through out the day, following him every where he went.
Red had been surprised when the dog came to him after entering the car, that day after the attack.
Maybe with all the time he had spent with Lizzy, the dog recognized his scent. He didn't know? But he had comforted Hudson the entire trip, who seemed quite content until the moment Dembe entered the room.
From then on, it had been love at first sight on both participants' parts.
Liz returned to her meal philosophically setting her mind to the fact, that dogs were in fact, man's best friend.
Red had cooked eggs, scattered with cheese and bacon. Fresh artisan bread, toasted and buttered. Fresh cut fruit, juice and her needed coffee.
Either she was starving, or this was one of the best meals she had ever eaten.
And while it was all delicious, eating had been frustrating.
Predominately right handed, eating with her left was not only annoying, it was proving impossible.
Red had gallantly ended up cutting her eggs and toast for her into manageable pieces. He had even handed one of his own pieces of toast over near the end of the meal. Until that moment, she had not realized, she had been eyeing it covetously.
Red stood, gingerly clapping his hands together, smiling at her expectantly.
Elizabeth frowned. "What?" she asked cautiously.
"I have a surprise for you."
"I have had enough surprises." she assured him.
"Trust me."
It had not taken much coaxing on the man's part. Elizabeth was delighted to have found the meaning of Dembe's earlier gift.
Her idea of heaven was coming to vivid life.
Red pulled the spout from it's resting place, testing the water, slowly moving it over her sensitive scalp. After sufficiently wetting it, he popped a cap, pouring a generous amount of luxurious shampoo into his palm.
Massaging it into the dark strands, the man rubbed strong fingers over trouble areas soothingly. Rinsing the suds away, he repeated the process, starting from her neck line, upwards.
Liz moaned, melting into her chair. The clean feeling and how good his touch felt, made her body quiver with delicious pangs. She relaxed totally into his ministrations.
He rinsed again, when the water ran clear, he picked up her conditioner, smoothing the thick cream through her hair. He paid particular attention to her scalp since she seemed to enjoy it so much.
Her little moans of pleasure and whimpers of delight, pleased him to no end.
Often he would hit a delicate spot, which sent shivers down her back. He knew he had accomplished his mission.
He wrung out the excess, wrapping her head in a heated towel. Loathe to disturb her, he raised her, inwardly rejoicing when her face betrayed her total bliss.
"Come on. Let's get you back in bed." She whined piteously but obeyed reluctantly.
"I need a wheelchair." The man had matched his steps to her slower ones as he helped her back to bed. "Or a skateboard." she held her arm and leg aloft.
Red steadied her falling form easily. "Yeah, very amusing." he tried to hold his smile. "It's Portside, Ensign." he indicated with his head, for she had listed off course.
"Ensign?" she objected.
"Who's the higher ranking officer here?" he asked, setting her gently down.
She shrugged the play aside, turning serious for a moment. "Red, I didn't say it before. But thank you, for everything. Coming back, taking care of me, letting me stay here."
"I'm not letting you stay here." Red corrected. "I want you here. I enjoy spending time with you." he eased into the conversation he had dreaded. "And I hope you feel the same?"
He stepped, his hands removing the towel from her still wet hair. Liz glanced up at his handiwork as he began gently dry the long tresses. His hands stopped their motion slowly.
"Now see, this is a problem."
"I can't do anything with it while it's wet." she apologized.
"I meant..." he sighed lightly. "The fact that every time I touch you or am near you, you tense up." he stepped back to catch her line of sight. "Do you think people don't notice such things?"
Liz scowled slightly, a little perplexed.
"You are pretending to be my fiancée, correct?" He sat the towel aside for the moment, taking a seat across from her. "With Mark's party coming up, taking place over the entire week, plus there will be hundreds of people everywhere." He lifted both brows. "We have to be comfortable with each other."
"I'm already comfortable with you."
Red held her eyes steadily.
"Well, I am." she was fairly certain. "I have to ask, if we did this to get me into Francis's party to get information on Edward Costa and Carver." the woman shifted facing him. "Once we catch him, will we really need to keep up the facade? Is it that important?"
"I don't see the harm in getting you established as a familiar face." Red had already the problem through. "There are rumors that I'm involved with the FBI. I'm seen with you, constantly. If you believed the rumors, who do you believe they think you are?"
Elizabeth had not thought of it in those terms.
"This actually works to our advantage on all levels."
The woman was given pause for thought.
"If anything changes before Mark's party, we'll reevaluate our options." he warmed to his task. "One of the main reasons you were invited to Mark's party was because he found you charming."
"That's nice of you to say, but you were invited regardless."
"You misunderstand. He personally asked you to attend." he corrected the oversight. "Not all my paramours receive an invitation."
"Oh, I see." Liz was pleasantly surprised at first, a small scowl puckering intelligent brow. "How many paramours are we talking about?"
"One in particular was incredibly high maintenance and not in a fun way." he pulled his chair over, bracing his forearms on his thighs, leaning into the story. "Mark took pity on me, casually forgetting to issue an invitation. I so enjoyed the break... that after the gathering, I had Dembe tell the woman that I had been shot, been seriously wounded, taken hostage and offered up to the highest bidder." the man stopped for a quick breath. "And sold to one of my worst enemies at that time and ended up in a German prison camp."
Liz's face was priceless. "German prison camp?" she questioned lightly. "As in World War II?"
"This woman was beautiful." Red defended half-heartedly. "I never said she was intelligent."
"And you were actually...where?"
"In the Maldives with a precious little native woman who prepared the most exquisite Tortellini and–"
"Red..." the woman's brow lifted.
"Well, you asked." he gave the reprieve. "My point is, you should start getting used to touching me and being touched."
"I thought I was doing okay with that part?"
"Not really." he grimaced slightly. "They expect me to be more affectionate with you."
"I'll make a concerted effort, really."
"Don't look so put out." He grinned. "You've done very well, really." he reassured. "I'm just pointing it out, now that we have time to work on it."
He arose, reseating himself directly beside her. "Now, what would you like to do today? Read, watch tv, sleep?" He touched her waist, chuckling when she visibly started.
"Damn!" she closed her eyes to such a stupid mistake. "Sorry."
She glanced at the man, ignoring his smug expression, deliberately touching his arm in turn.
Red's gaze transferred to the spot. She was a little put out that the man offered no reaction, what-so-ever. Except to lean into it, as if her touch was welcomed. "Are you busy?"
"No, I've cleared my entire schedule. Why?"
"I thought maybe you'd like to talk."
"About what specifically?" Red asked, anticipating the answer.
"You." Liz shrugged, attempting to come off as indifferent as possible, in case he thought it was stupid. "Where you've been, the places you enjoyed the most, the foods you've tried, things I may need to know. That type of stuff."
Well, that had been unexpected.
He was sure she'd try to wheedle information out of him, instead, she wanted to talk about travels and other miscellanea. A real conversation. No work, no Fulcrum, nothing of their past.
"Is this the FBI Agent asking or you?"
"Me." She brought her good leg up, curling it towards her body, getting comfortable.
Sitting back against the head board, "Is there anywhere you'd like to start?" He smiled when she lit up with happiness.