After a delightful dinner, Dembe went out to do his ususal laps in the pool. Lizzy's dog sat at the edge, following the man back and forth as he swam, perfectly content to do so.
Red walked leisurely through the area, laying a fresh towel on the lounge chair, waving a 'goodnight' as he passed.
He headed for their room. More specifically, he headed for Lizzy.
"Who was at the door?" She had heard the bell earlier, but stayed out of sight, as directed by Silas.
"I met the neighbors." Red smiled his greeting. "Seems their little darling was inconsolable after his ball was thrown back over the wall, deflated." his hands went to his sides as gave his complete attention over.
Liz hid her smile, her eyes innocently following along as he continued. Red was not fooled for one second.
"The kid claimed he heard a woman's voice telling someone to maim his toys and keep anything else that was thrown over the fence." he exclaimed, pulling his tie free. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
He looked at her expectantly. "Does that sound like something I would do?" she asked intently.
"Pop the kid's ball?" Red hung his tie over a nearby chair. "The old Lizzy, no... this new and improved one, I would hope so."
"Well, I didn't say it exactly like that." she lied through her teeth. "Were the parents a problem?"
"For me? No." Red told the truth. "As a matter of fact, I don't think they'll be a problem at all any longer for anyone."
"What did you do?" she was momentarily waylaid.
"Told them you were a child psychologist that said junior was troubled." he was proud of his inventiveness. "They're so worried about the bad seed over there, I suspect he'll be enrolled in some private academy by tomorrow."
"And here I thought you didn't lie."
"I don't lie to you." he clarified. "Everyone else is fair game. Well, except for Dembe and Kate Kaplan..." he quirked his brow, "especially Kaplan."
"Why don't you lie to me?" she asked, rubbing her hand and arm, which had been aching for an hour.
"Don't you think you have had enough lies in your life?" he sat down beside her, lifting her arm onto his lap, massaging the sore muscle.
Liz stiffened slightly at his touch, his behavior surprising her, all of which Red ignored.
"I may not be able to tell you everything that's happening, but I can promise to never lie to you when you need questions answered."
She didn't want to think about it anymore. It had been a good night and she was tired of dwelling. "What did Ress say about the Blacklist name?"
"You mean after he was convinced it wasn't a joke?" Red took hold of her hand, massaging each individual finger in turn.
Elizabeth felt the ache ease, the man's administrations feeling wonderful.
"Aram put the info on the screens," Red continued, "but Ressler kept giving me sidelong glances until Samar smacked him."
"You're kidding?" she chortled shortly.
"No, whacked him right across the back of the head." Red remembered fondly. "Told him to get with the program."
"Who was it?" she probed artfully, hoping to catch him off guard.
"Who was who?" He pushed his thumb into the palm of her hand, working on the tension there from handling the crutch. "Does this hurt?"
"The Blacklist name." she snapped, annoyed her subterfuge clearly hadn't worked. "And no, it doesn't hurt." she softened her tone as Red kneaded the sore area expertly.
"No one you need to worry about." Red sat her arm aside, before scooting down the bed. "Let it go." He advised. "You're on medical leave. You should concentrate only on resting." he tapped his finger against her cast as a reminder. "Let Ressler have his moment... even if it is freaking him out."
"How are they doing?"
"Your team?" he shrugged minutely. "They're fine, busy." he grinned. "Tense."
"Why, what's going on?" she perked up instantly, always ready and willing to hear any juicy tidbit of gossip.
"They brought in some replacements, Richard Moore and Andrew Wilson, to fill in while you're gone." he fed her the tidbit. "And I get the feeling Samar and Aram dislike Moore intensely."
"What about Ress?" Liz watched the man opposite her, lift her leg carefully.
She balked, preventing the move. "What are you doing?" she was suddenly a little awkward having sensed his intent.
"I thought you were college educated..." he motioned accordingly. "Isn't it self explanatory?"
The woman stared at him blankly.
"This is helping with your injuries, correct?" he smiled benignly. "Should I stop?"
Liz gave the question due process. Within in seconds, she offered her leg tentatively laying it onto his lap.
Red patted the cast approvingly, continuing his efforts.
"Ressler is focused on the job, as always." Red had long sense accepted the other man's foibles. "Blind and deaf to what's happening around him."
"What's wrong with this Moore guy?"
"Well, he wanted me in the box, for starters."
"If he's new, he probably wouldn't know–"
"He still wanted me in the box after Samar explained our arrangement."
"What did you do?" she questioned, moaning slightly as Red had hit a particularly troubling spot, "...Yes, right there." she was grateful.
The man dropped his head, pleased she was so easily accepting his assistance. He pushed his fingers into the area indicated, working his magic.
"Are you asking if I did something to warrant being placed in the box?" he lifted a steady gaze.
"No, I'm not asking that?" she sat forward, her expression sincere for all of two seconds. "No, wait a minute, of course I'm asking that."
"I did nothing, was saying hello to Aram as a matter of fact, shook his hand and everything." Red remembered things his own way. "Don't worry Lizzy, I can handle Moore without putting a bullet in him." he pulled a sad face, then brightened. "Samar on the other hand..."
"She really doesn't like him?" Liz clarified to herself, then shifted about anxiously... "Right here, it aches." she pointed to her calf area.
Red obediently kneaded the tight muscle harder until she visibly relaxed.
"I'm getting a vibe that Moore doesn't think much of her either, or maybe women, in general." Red disdained. "Which makes him a bigger idiot than I thought."
"What about the other one? Wilson?"
"Young, wet behind the ears." he had all ready dismissed the man. "Probably lives in his mother's basement... just like Glen."
"How young is he?" she relaxed totally into the pillows, her eyes fluttering shut. The man rubbed at her aching foot. The damned cast prevented him reaching vital areas, but what he was doing felt amazing.
"Well, he's around your age, actually." Red grinned, her little toes fascinating him. He had always found women's feet sensual. He cupped her entire foot in his palms, rubbing the coolness and in seconds, the flesh was warmed.
His thoughts turned introspective for a beat, his mood altering.
How that fucker, Carver, could hurt her... could cause her so much pain... Red steamed at the reality. He sat here wishing fervently to kiss the cute little toes. How could any man wish harm of any sort to something so precious, so valued a thing?
Red clenched his jaw, pushing out the anger, instead focusing on the activity he pursued. He marveled how easily her entire foot fit into his hands.
"You think I'm wet behind the ears?"
"No..." he drawled lazily, refusing a smile. "Not anymore."
"You thought I was!" she was more than incensed.
She pulled her leg away, the man shifting a scolding glance.
Elizabeth considered her options, settling instantly. Red smiled happily as she slowly but surely gave over into his keeping... her other leg.
He eased the sock off her foot, Liz finding the task oddly sensual in nature.
She watched warily for the man's lips had quivered slightly, but he sat now simply looking at her appendage. She impatiently wiggled her toes, shaking her foot about, loathed to remind him... that he had a job to do.
"Well, yes, you were." he reminded needlessly. "You had never dealt with my level of criminal activity."
Well, she couldn't argue with that. And really, she wasn't supposed to, being a profiler. "And now, what do you think?"
"I think you're still very young."
"In other words, inexperienced." she took for granted.
"In some things, yes. But you're learning." he was quick to mollify. "Lizzy, there's nothing wrong with not knowing everything." he motioned to himself. "Even I don't know all there is to know."
"Yeah well, you wouldn't know it." Liz muttered. "Anyway, aside from them being young and gung ho, how are they working together, do you think?"
"Someone's going to get killed." Red prophesied.
"That's not funny!" she pouted, moving her foot into Red's warm hand, curling her toes when he pushed into her aching arch.
"It wasn't meant to be. The dynamics are all off." he could sense as much. "Samar and Aram listen, they're on top of their game. Donald, is getting his shit together." Red mused to himself. "I have to see the other guys in action, but as of right now, they're a hot mess."
"It's that bad?" she grimaced.
"It's that bad." Red confirmed. "But don't worry, I'll be there, watching."
He bent his head, kissing the tip of her toe as he rubbed his thumbs along the length of her foot. The woman's head fell back, a long purr of delight escaping her throat.