"I am perfectly capable of walking up those stairs by myself." Elizabeth was both embarrassed and frustrated as she scowled at Reddington.
While he enjoyed her petulant face, he did have a point to make. "I am not taking the chance you'll fall."
Liz eyed the steps dubiously. "I am not going to fall." she hoped she sounded more certain than she felt.
"Why can't you just accept my help and be quiet about it." he tightened his jaw, keeping the smile at bay. "It's obvious you've been injured. What's the problem here?"
"I just think that if I'm playing your fiancée," she eyed the magnificent mansion critically, "I should be able to handle myself in any situation."
"Considering most people would have rescheduled, I'd say you're doing better than expected." he dismissed her concerns. "Now stop worrying. It'll be just like the first time we were here, everything will be fine."
Dembe waited patiently, as was his way. "Just pick her up and carry her."
"Dembe!" Liz gasped her disgruntlement. "I would never have expected that from you."
"I missed lunch." the man frowned over and a frown from Dembe, spoke volumes. Even Red was slightly taken aback. "I am hungry."
The woman bounced to the bottom of the stairs, shooing Red off then sighed more than heavily when the man inched in beside her, bracketing her.
She tightened her lips, shooting daggers at him before gripping the banister determinedly. She took the first step, just tightening her grasp on the wrought iron railing, when the entrance to palatial building swung open unceremoniously.
"What in the hell happened to you?" Francis asked as he came to the top step, hands on hips, an incredulous look on his face as he examined the scene.
Liz scrunched her nose, smiling slightly. "I had an accident."
"I'd say." Francis folded his arms, watching her gingerly set her foot down on the third step. "Well, aren't you being patient..." he smiled at the man hovering over the woman, "for once."
"Stubborn little..." Red muttered, then reached out quickly to keep her steady.
"What did you say?" she frowned at him, reaffirming her grip which had slipped slightly.
"I called you a stubborn little shit." Red stated succinctly.
She gripped the banister with both hands, her mind setting stubbornly. "I am not!" she hissed.
"Yes." Red disagreed. "You are."
"I can do it..." she breathed, exertion slowly but surely overtaking her, truth told.
"Look back Lizzy." Red instructed. She looked down at the five steps she'd taken, feeling a surge a pride.
"Now, look up."
She glanced up at the enormous climb ahead of her and Francis leaning against the stone pillar, grinning down at her in open amusement.
It had already taken her at least four minutes do take five steps. Dinner would be over by the time she got to the top.
She resigned herself to the inevitable, slightly depressed over the fact, her face showing as much.
Red stepped once, his intention clear. Liz balked instantly, turning, her hand slapping at the man's expensive jacket. "Not you!" she proclaimed defiantly.
The man offered a mocking laugh in his throat, lifting the woman in his arms, walking easily up the stairs with his bundle in tow. Elizabeth's face pouted prettily.
Francis chuckled, opening the door wide for Red. Dembe came up the stairs two at a time, catching up to them easily.
"Would you put me down..." she hissed, wiggling in his grasp.
The man complied, keeping a firm hold on her waist to aid if need arose. "Where are we gathered?"
Liz's small fist balled into a frustrated smack against his chest. Red ignored the action, hard pressed to keep the smile from his lips. "You know how I love that, baby," the man teased, "but not now... later."
"Huh?" she was totally lost unlike their host, who laughed right in her face...
"We don't get kinky here until after dinner." Francis grinned at the vexed woman. "We're all in the dining room." he offered a hand in greeting, "Dembe, good to see you again." Francis smiled for the man.
They headed for the dining room.
Elizabeth was stunned by all the people present as the young man threw open the heavy doors, introducing the new arrivals.
"Everyone knows Red and Dembe?" Francis waved a dismissing hand. "And the beauty on Red's arm, is his lovely fiancée, Elizabeth."
She waved wanly, a little embarrassed that the attention immediately became focused on her.
After they were seated, dinner was brought out shortly thereafter. Easy conversation fell around the table, some discussing travel plans or new items they had bought.
A woman across from Elizabeth admired her jewelry. She hadn't worn the earrings tonight because it was supposed to be an informal setting. But Liz hadn't taken the necklace or bracelet off except to bathe.
"These were gifts for my birthday." She showed them off proudly, swiveling them under the light. She reflectively placed her hand over Red's, her small fingers intertwining with the strong, artistic ones.
The man halted his narrative mid-sentence, his eyes dropping to the contact, before lifting to the lovely profile. He enjoyed the feel of the warm flesh pressed so intimately to his hand.
Liz relaxed more after that, feeling like she fit in again. She even forgot momentarily, about the heavy casts she wore.
After dinner was cleared, those around the table started talking business. Elizabeth busied herself with her dessert. Red slid his over, hiding a grin, having noticed how delectable the woman found the treat.
She could not really follow any of the technical aspects being discussed, so she lost herself in the delicious cake and wine she sipped. She was not even aware of any dissension, until the raised voices startled her.
"Good God! Stop bickering!" Red's powerful voice resonated over the others, instantly quieting the table. "Anne, if you want to take your business through there, that's fine. But don't expect us to follow suit, not at this time." he was emphatic.
There was a chorus of consensual agreement on the debate. "It's not only a good way to loose your shipment, but more importantly, your men." Red censored. "I, for one, am not going to risk my men over a few dollars. And you shouldn't either."
The woman fell silent, frowning.
"I have to agree with Red in this." Francis leaned on the table, his hands linked under his chin. "Some of my men have been with me for years. Their continued loyalty and their lives are more important... you go in," he advised the woman, "you go alone."
Talks continued on to other matters, nothing having really been decided in Liz's opinion. Into the next hour, new business coming out of Japan was discussed.
Red felt Liz lean into him, absently wrapping his arm around her. He smiled softly realizing that she wasn't leaning against him out of affection, but because she had fallen asleep.
Adjusting his arm, he shared a small smile with Francis when she settled more comfortably against him.
"I didn't realize how boring we were." Francis frowned his concern.
"You were the one who was talking." Red reminded.
A little while later, they finished their discussions. Usually Red would stay and socialize, but he had more important matters to attend to, one of which was leaning against him, fast asleep.
Red gently touched Liz's cheek, rousing her. She opened her eyes, raising her head off his shoulder, looking around with bleary eyes. She made contact with the man's gaze, finding him grinning at her... as was the rest of those seated at the table.
"I am so sorry." She whispered her mortification.
"It's all right, Elizabeth." Francis smiled gently. "Those pain pills throw you for a loop. I broke my leg skiing a couple years back and fell asleep before a speech I had to give at a charity dinner." he remembered fondly. "Red had to slap me awake."
"I didn't have to, but I enjoyed the experience all the same." Red stood. "Well, ladies and gentlemen. It's time I get Sleeping Beauty back to the castle."
"I'll see you out." Francis arose, following the trio close behind.
"Dinner was amazing, Francis. Thank you for inviting me..." Liz reddened, "even if I did miss half of it."
"To be honest, I wish I could have taken a nap myself." the man shook his head woefully. "That last hour was dreadfully painful."
"I think more than a few of us would have liked to have drifted off." Red nodded in agreement. "I don't envy the rest of your evening, Francis. You're welcome to come with us." he grinned.
"Who's to say they wouldn't be here, bitching at each other in the morning when I came back for clothes." Francis opened the door, guiding them down the stairs.
"I thought you had the new guest house?" Liz asked of her old house, the one Francis bought.
"Oh, I'm still working on it. I'll have it done in a few days time, of course, too late to be of any use now." he whined miserably. "I'll tell you what though, if I don't get them out within the next half hour, expect a knock on your door."
Francis opened the back door of the car, stepping out of their way as Red got Liz situated before shutting the door and walking to the other side.
Looking over the roof of the car, "My door is always open." Red replied, quite seriously.
Once Elizabeth was done with her nightly ritual, Red helped her settle into the mattress. As he reached for her laptop, she grabbed his wrist, alarmed, "You're bleeding, Red."
He glanced down at his once pristine white shirt, watching the blood seep through the rich cotton fabric. "Well, damn. I liked this shirt." he grumbled.
"Go get some supplies and I'll change it for you."
"I can do it." He craned his head, looking to see how far the blood ran down his sleeve.
"I want to see it, check that it isn't infected." she argued. "Don't make me get up and do it myself."
"Fine, I'll get it." He went into the bathroom, returning with the needed supplies a minute later, handing them to her, unbuttoning his shirt.
"Just soak it when we're done," she eyed the material critically, "it's still wet, maybe it'll come out."
"Maybe." But he doubted it. For a man, he knew a lot about when he could and couldn't get blood out of fabrics.
"Sit down." She moved her leg over, making room for him. "Roll up your sleeve."
Red pulled up the sleeve of his t-shirt, holding it out of her way while she worked the soiled bandage off. "You can just yank it off." he reminded.
"I could, but then that would hurt."
"I would not classify that as pain."
"If I can do it without making it hurt..." She left it hanging, letting him fill in the blanks. "I'm starting to wonder if you're a masochist. The way you don't shy away from pain."
"I expect pain, so when it happens, I'm able to keep going." he watched the proceedings calmly. "If you go into a gun battle expecting to get hit, it's not as shocking to you when it happens. While it hurts like hell, you're able to feed off the adrenaline and survive." he had cultivated the art over the years. "There are no time outs when you get a wound."
"Try yelling out, Uncle." She muttered, making him smile. She pulled back the last bit of bandage, exposing the gash. It was seeping, but still closed, for the most part. "I knew you strained your arm carrying me."
"I did not. I felt a pull before we even went to Francis'." he informed her. "I just didn't have time to deal with it then."
"You don't think maybe you aggravated it by toting me around like a sack of potatoes?"
"Haven't we established that I do not lie?"
She dabbed the area with disinfectant, not surprised that Red didn't react to the sting. She blew on the area, drying it while she ripped off pieces of tape, sticking them to Red's fingers.
"Oh, I forgot." She touched her lips underneath the cut, feeling for heat. The area was cool and dry. She finally pulled back, glancing up at Red, realizing what she had done, finding him grinning at her.
"I was checking for fever."
"There is this wonderful new invention... a thermometer." he glanced upward. "But on second thought, I like your way better."
She dabbed the area again, cleaning off her germs then added some ointment and clean gauze. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Didn't hurt one bit. When I get wounded again, you can do the bandaging."
"I hate when you're so blasé about that." She patted the tape to secure the ends to his skin.
"When you've been wounded as many times as I have, you can't think of it any other way." He wadded up the trash, and pushed off the bed. "If I started dreading where or when the next hit would happen, I'd never leave the damn house. You can't live your life in fear."
"How many times have you been hurt?"
"Pick a weapon." he quipped.
"There's been more than one weapon..."
"Knife, gun, electricity–"
"You've been tortured?"
He shrugged it off. "Are you getting on with the guards now?" he asked.
Liz's brow furrowed at the change of subject, sighing. "Obviously." she screwed up her face. "Silas and his innuendo is evidence of that." she chuckled quietly. "Why?"
"Well, I wanted to make sure you were comfortable with them and getting around better before I got out of your hair." he explained.
Liz sat up straighter, a frown overtaking her smile. "What?"
"I wanted to make sure you were settled before going to the safe house."
"What the hell are you talking about?" she scowled.
"I have overstayed my welcome, don't you think?" Red chuckled lightly, then sighed. "Sweetheart, three days is an acceptable houseguest, five days is pushing it. I'm going on almost twenty days." he advised. "I am the terrible, dreaded houseguest that never leaves. Sort of like Francis."
"But... it's your house." she reasoned. "I'm the intruder."
"No, remember, your name is on the deed." he joked. "I don't want to..." Red turned serious for a moment, "I've enjoyed this truce, for lack of better word, we have maintained."
He had dreaded this conversation all day. "Perhaps I should not push my luck."
Liz pulled at the pillow in her lap, twisting the fringe. "You're not in my way." she managed. "And I... you're not annoying me at all, as a matter of fact, you've been very helpful." she smiled brightly. "I could not have managed without you."
Did he want to go because he wanted away from her?
"I..." she hesitated, "have I given you the impression I want you to leave?"
"Well, no." Red tilted his head questioningly. "I just thought since you are better now and your doing well with Security, you didn't really need me around anymore."
Liz got lost in thought, wondering what she should do. She had enjoyed Red's company, but maybe she had been too needy? Was this his way to get some distance? To get away from her?
"This is a huge house, Red." she tried again. "It's not like we're right on top of one another." she fiddled with her ring, her mouth falling open when she realized what she'd said... her dream instantly coming to the forefront.
"I-I mean..." she stuttered, "it seems silly to bounce from one safe house to another, when there's a perfectly good place, right here."
Red fell silent, drumming his fingers against the bed.
"Besides, I still do need your help sometimes." she reminded. "You know, like when the guys have my cart and stuff."
She bit the inside of her lip, knowing that was a lame excuse the minute she voiced it. She could get around pretty well now and he knew it.
"You can't leave!" she reminded quickly. "If Francis comes by..."
Red lifted his head nobly, watching the woman attentively. If he didn't know better, he would think she didn't want him to leave.
Not that he wanted to go. He had been thinking how he could possibly extend his stay, but had come up empty in his search for a legitimate excuse.
But it seemed, Lizzy had an abundance of them.
"All right..." he quietly agreed, holding his joy. "But when you're ready for me t–"
"Of course, yes." She nodded happily, smiling. "I'll let you know."
After breakfast the next morning, Red left Liz in the capable care of her nurses before heading to his office.
He'd been checking on his investments, pleased when he saw all of them doing well. So pleased in fact, seeing Ressler's name splash across his phone screen did little to damper his good mood.
"Reddington, we've had another one." Ressler informed the man without preamble. "If you could come down and take a look at the pictures..."
"Can't you just send them?" Red sighed into the phone.
"Aram said they were running some systems update for another hour or something. I wasn't really listening, to be honest." Donald confessed.
"I'll be there soon." Red closed the phone, his head falling back into his chair, his mood dampening somewhat. He forced himself up, heading down the hall. "Lizzy?"
"Yeah?" She called out from the closet.
He followed her voice entering the area after a few steps, focusing on her activity. "What are you doing?"
He stared at her, half hidden in the clothes hanging on the rack... well part of her, at least.
His eyes immediately fell to the rather fetching sight revealed. The only portion visible of the woman was her bottom. Her ever present companion, the demon cat, sat there beside her, lazily batting at a string attached to a pair of Liz's pants.
"More importantly, how were you going to get up if no one came in here?" He glanced about, confirming they were alone. "Where are the nurses?"
"Helen ran to the store." she said from inside her makeshift fortress. "And Diane is getting something from her car."
She backed out of the clothes, brushing her hair out of her face before sitting on the floor. "I was going to eat a candy bar before Vegan Mindy got here." She held up the candy bar, pointing to the clothes. "Dembe gave me a secret stash."
She rolled to the chair, pushing with her arm trying to get off the floor unsuccessfully while Keres rubbed herself against Liz's thigh. "I guess I didn't think that far ahead. Silas usually gets it for me."
"I see." He bent over, helping her off the floor. "You don't have to worry about Vegan Mindy, I fired her yesterday."
"You did?" Her voice rose shrilly. The man crooked his head, eyeing her quizzically.
"I did. She didn't make you happy." he walked her slowly back to the bedroom. "They're sending over an older Southern woman, that I'm sure, will fill you with chicken and dumplings and cherry cobbler."
"No more eggplant or weeds?" Liz's voice bubbled with joy.
"No, and since their employees have trouble following vocal warnings, I've given them a complete list of things that are off limits around you." Red further stated. "Eggplant being at the very top."
She smiled, giddily. "Thank you, Red." a thought occurred to her. "Oh, why were you looking for me?"
The man explained the situation to her. "But didn't want to leave without saying goodbye." He smiled absently at nothing in particular.
"All right, I'll save you some cobbler."
"No dumplings?" He asked, heading to the door.
"I make no promises!" She called out to him.
Red and Dembe entered the main area of the Blacksite, stopping slowly in their tracks. Computer techs bounced from one station to another, their expressions bleak, their actions harried. Agents littered the floor as usual, but it appeared several more had joined the fray.
"Samar?" Red took off his hat, having finally reached the woman.
"Reddington, good timing." She pointed to the new photos taped to the boards. "We just got these printed a couple minutes ago."
He neared the offensive items, his eye ticking slightly at the vivid pictures. This victim was worse than the previous two. She was literally torn to shreds. Only hunks of skin were left hanging haphazardly on her poor, mangled body.
"Do we have a name as of yet?" the man enquired quietly.
"I just pulled this before you came in." She handed over a driver's license photo to him of what the woman originally looked like with her face intact.
Taping it up beside the other normal photos of the two previous victims, Red Reddington scrutinized them intensely. He filtered back through people he knew from associates to the occasional Barista he may have encountered.
No one came to mind, none resembled any of these women.
"I don't know her." His jaw tightened slightly. He wasn't being of much help to the team or any of these women... or future victims.
"I didn't think you would but it never hurts to check." Samar's tone was grim. "The thing is, I've researched these women and they were normal. I mean, completely every day boring, normal. Why anyone would want to harm them..."
"Did you know her." Ressler interrupted.
"He didn't." Samar answered. "I was just explaining to him that they had good work records, steady relationships, no debt, not even so much as a traffic ticket." the woman was at a loss. "Who would want these women dead, is a complete mystery."
Donald and Samar turned to look at Reddington who had fallen silent. An oddity where the man was concerned. He was standing in front of the three pictures, scanning them repeatedly.
His eyes moved slowly, his stare focused and intent and then... he stiffened. Turning on his heel he made for the door, Dembe following closely behind.
"Reddington!" Donald yelled at the retreating man.
"Reddington? What did you see!" Samar hurried after the man, skidding to the elevator. She just caught it as the door was closing. "What?!" she demanded.
"They all look like Lizzy."
The door closed with a finality on the man's foreboding countenance.