Elizabeth Keen awoke to the sound of a terrible hacking cough.
She sat up immediately, seeking the source in the darkened room.
"Red, are you okay?" She enquired instantly, her voice allowing her concern. She snatched a magazine off her bedside table, frantically fanning the man's face.
With the cool air, the coughing fit eased, finally. "I'm all right." it was croaked, the man's voice more hoarse than normal.
Liz moved closer, shocked to feel the heat radiating off his pale skin before she even touched him.
"Uhh, no," she corrected impetuously, "you're not." her cool palm felt wonderful on the man's feverish flesh. "You're burning up."
She hastily rolled out of bed, making her way to the bathroom, coming back a minute later with a couple of damp cloths.
Reaching out, he stopped her from touching him. "Don't. You'll catch–" he broke off, coughing harshly.
"What ever." She rolled her eyes, wiping his face with the cold cloth. She gently pushed him back into the headboard he had been leaning against.
His eyes slid shut, relaxing under the gentle touch and cooling relief.
"I told you this would happen." She scolded, running the cloth over his cheeks.
"It's just a cold." he croaked.
"That's been exacerbated by exhaustion." she tried to keep the vexation from her tone. "I won't be the least bit surprised, if I find that Dembe has contracted this stuff too." she made up her mind. "You're taking a couple days off."
"I'm fine Lizzy." He coughed fitfully, groaning his misery when the episode passed.
"No, you aren't!" her tone was a little sharper now. "You've been running non-stop, pushing your body and do I have to remind you, that you were shot, twice... and didn't even take time to recuperate." she sat her features. "You need to rest."
"They were just flesh wounds." he dismissed, sneezing spasmodically.
"There was a hole in your thigh." Liz gritted her teeth, feeling his face again, checking for the intensity of the fever. "You should take a lukewarm shower."
There was a soft knock on the door. Red, himself, bid 'enter'.
Dembe stuck his head around the door, phone in hand. Reddington beckoned him forward.
Elizabeth held out her own hand, demanding the object.
"Go, now." She pointed to the bathroom.
Dembe stepped forward, really looking at his employer and friend. "You are sick."
"That's been established, yes." Red groaned. Dembe entered the room further, his instincts to assist the man.
"Damn, I'm sore." Red straightened his back, wincing from the pain, every muscle in his body rebelling against such an unwise move.
Elizabeth heard whoever was on the other end of the line speaking, bringing the phone to her ear as she watched Dembe enter the bathroom with Red.
"Red can't come to the phone right now, may I help you?" her brows knitted together at the rather impolite rejoinder. "I'm his fiancée, why?" she listened patiently, then not so much so for the tone had turned more acerbic in nature.
"I don't care who you are. I don't care what you need." she could be just as blunt. "If you can't handle anything without Red fixing it for you, I'm sure he can fill your position when he's back in three days." her mouth fell slightly agape at the downright rude reply.
"Because I want him in my bed for more than a night at a time, not that it's any of your damn business."
She shut the phone down forcefully, listening to Red hacking his lungs out in the shower. She started as the phone rang again.
"What?" She snarled in the phone, relaxing slightly, recognizing this voice.
"Ressler. No, he can't come to the phone." she half heartedly listened, more interested in the sound of Red's distress. "Why does everybody keep questioning me?" her temper flared.
"You're a damned FBI Agent, investigate the lead!" she lost patience. "Listen to me and listen well... Red is taking the next three days off. When I end this call," she explained calmly, "I'm shutting the phone down, so you better get your shit together because as of right now, you're on your own!"
She pressed the button until the system shut down completely. Red came out of the other room in a comfortable shirt and pants. The man was pale and had a pasty pallor. His gait was slow, as if he measured each step carefully.
"Lizzy, all I really need is a couple hours re–" He broke off, coughing again.
"Get in that damn bed right now, Red Reddington."
He got on the bed, collapsing into it, grinning his amusement.
"You're hot when you're cranky." Red smiled sleepily up at the woman, before closing his eyes.
Liz pulled the blankets up around him, before turning on Dembe, her expression saying it all.
He rose his hands in self defense, grinning as well.
"You get some rest, too."
Dembe bowed his head in deference, heading for the door. "Yes, ma'am."
Liz spent the entire night, caring for Red. Wiping him down with cool cloths, fetching ice packs and medicines... anything to make him more comfortable.
She awoke first with a start, from a fitful half sleep. She sought out the man, gently caressing his forehead with her lips. He had cooled some, she was pleased to note.
He appeared completely exhausted, however.
She flipped on the overhead fan, hoping it would help the fever some, before heading off to dress for the day.
Red's eyes opened slowly, staring after the woman until the door shut behind her. His mouth pulled at the corner, before he turned on his side and dozed a bit.
Elizabeth made her way down to the dining area after having ascertained that Red was sleeping still.
She didn't feel much like eating, for she was very worried about the man. He had passed a restless night and clearly felt terrible.
"Good morning, Miss Elizabeth." Elizabeth smiled at the woman warmly, "How are you today?"
"Oh, I'm pretty good." Liz acknowledged the older woman, glancing at the plate Nora placed before her. She inhaled the delicious scent. "And yourself?"
"I'm well. Now, young lady" Nora stepped back, clasping her hands primly before her. "What is on our menu today?"
"Well, actually. Mr. Reddington is home sick." Liz informed readily. "I was wondering what would make him feel better? Any suggestions?"
"My long shot coming in at Belmont." Red's voice was rough and gravely.
"Oh, sure." Liz huffed, turning slightly in her seat as the man entered to her left. "Like that's going to happen... why aren't you in bed? You sound terrible." Although secretly, had circumstances been different, the woman would have thought the husky quality to his tone was quite sexy.
Nora frowned her concern, pulling out a chair for Red. "I have to agree with your lady there, you sound horrible." She rushed to set a bountiful breakfast before the man. "Now, you eat up and we'll get you feeling better in no time."
Red frowned hard, at the solicitous 'pat' the woman offered on his shoulder.
Liz chuckled for his mood. "You have to try to eat something, Red." she picked up her own fork as incentive.
Red did just that, though not tasting very much.
Nora sat a cup of steaming tea to his right and cold juice to his left.
He looked at her questioningly, "Where's my coffee?"
"Oh, sir." the woman tsked. "Coffee is the worst thing for your cough."
"No it isn't." he practically snapped. "It actually opens the bronchial tubes." he knew for a fact. "I want my coffee."
Both Liz and Nora looked at him pityingly.
"Red, I think she knows best." Liz soothed.
"Give me my damn coffee." he insisted.
Liz lifted apologetic eyes to the other woman. "He's a terrible patient."
"I had two boys and a husband, I'm used to it." Nora nodded knowingly. "Big babies, all of them."
"I'm not a terrible patient, I just want my coffee." Red's voice was a little perturbed. "Who do I have to kill to get it?"
Liz reached over, patting his hand consolingly. "We're just trying to make you feel better." her tone hardened a bit as did her expression. "Besides, you don't need the damned caffeine... obviously."
Red folded his arms over his chest, his expression set.
"Please, Red. You really have to eat more." she crinkled her nose. "For me?" she tried another tactic seeing the first was not working.
Dropping her hand to his fork, she stabbed a chunk of the food then held it out, waiting for him to take it.
Red's eyes narrowed slightly, the blood shot orbs holding hers stubbornly.
"You want me to make an airplane sound, like I did for Sam?" She asked pleasantly.
The man's tongue flicked the inside of his cheek, as the humor of the situation hit him, his eyes softening.
He reluctantly conceded victory, taking his fork back with but one lethal stare for both females.
He looked at the plate for a long moment, then lifted a small bite to his mouth.
"Drink your juice, dear." Liz said, smiling brightly.
After breakfast, the man wanted to dress for the day.
"After my shower," he walked ahead of her, his gait lacking his usual swagger, "I'll need a few hours out of the house." He held out his hand. "Where's my phone?"
"I'm not giving it to you." the woman informed him blithely.
"Lizzy..." his tone chilled a bit.
"Red, if you don't get back in that bed and take the day off," she pulled alongside of him, staring up at the set features stubbornly, "I swear, I'll call Mr. Kaplan and have her come sedate your ass!"
With that said, the woman zoomed her cart down the corridor, disappearing rapidly into their bedroom.
The man shook his head, slightly befuddled and he did not know, if it was from the woman's actions or his present condition. He had to admit, if only to himself... he felt like hell warmed over.
He reluctantly followed her lead, glancing around the empty room when he arrived.
The woman came out of the bathroom, her cart loaded with paraphernalia.
"What are you doing?" He half laughed, intrigued.
The woman stuck a thermometer in his mouth, silencing any sort of protest he might think to make.
He stared down at her, his glassy eyes looking at her fondly. She ignored the effort, putting a hand under his chin, keeping his mouth shut, holding the thermometer in place until it beeped.
"See! It's one hundred and one degrees." She held it up for him to see.
"I've been worse, Lizzy."
"Oh my God!" the frustration was palpable. "Get in that bed!" She pushed his shoulder, turning him around. "Go..." she shooed him, hopping right behind him, her cart all but forgotten.
He went to the other side of the bed, grabbing his pillow and book... casting her an annoyed glance.
"What are you doing?" Liz interrogated.
"Well, Agent Keen..." the man held his smile, "if I'm going to stay here, I should be in one of the other rooms so you don't–"
"Red, I'm about to knee cap you." she threw back the covers angrily. "Get in this bed, right this minute!"
Red glanced at the bed, then back to his little Nurse Ratchet. He reluctantly retraced his steps, at length settling into the comfort provided.
"Now shut up and read your damn book." She growled, throwing the blankets back over him before handing him some pills and water. "Take these."
Red coughed quietly, "The Warden at Sing-Sing has nothing on you." but he took the offered drugs and water, downing the pills.
"Should I check under your tongue to make sure you took them?" she narrowed her eyes.
"I took them, you little despot." he assured, before relaxing back into the pillows, at length, opening the book.
She hopped around to the other side of the bed, huffily tossing her laptop onto the soft coverlet before climbing up herself. Liz threw him a nondescript glare.
Red leafed through his book, not seeing any of the print. He was inwardly amused and after all, it was only one day.
He'd do as she wished to make her happy. And truthfully... he really did feel like shit.
They were both silent for some time, comfortable enough to enjoy their separate activities. Red's interest was taken from his reading, he glanced over at a disgruntled bed partner.
He sat his book on his lap, asking the rhetorical question. "What?"
"I said," Liz iterated, "ugly ass bathroom."
"Show me." He leaned over, staring at the screen on her lap. "Good God..." he winced at the hideous phot. "What is hell is that? French provincial meets the Seventies?"
"You're just being kind." Liz was certain. "'Ugly ass bathroom' describes it well enough."
He chuckled, then coughed, he held a staying hand. "You're going to get sick." The woman had instinctively slid closer.
"We've been sharing this bed for a while now, if I have it, I have it." She made herself comfortable against him. "What do you think of this one." she clicked another image.
"Is it a double-wide?" he quipped.
"You're such a snob." she moved on to another, interested to see inside the ones he would chose.
Twelve houses later, he tapped the screen. "Now, what's wrong with that one?"
"Uh, it's a hundred thousand over my price range."
"There is nothing outside of your price range, because you don't have a price range."
"Gee, I'm pretty sure that there was a dollar limit that I was given when you sold my house."
"If you find something and love it," he was adamant. "I don't care how much it is, you're going to get it."
"Red, I can find something well under my price range and fix it up." an idea occurred to her. "I don't need a lot. It's just me, really." She tilted her head, thinking. "Actually, if I do this right, I can use the rest of the money to pay off my credit card debt."
"About that..."
Liz let her head fall back into the pillow, all ready knowing where this was going. "You paid them all off, didn't you?"
"I did, yes." he freely admitted. "It was just one less thing to worry about."
"Either way, I can still find something cute and make it mine. All within my budget."
"Aren't you tired of settling, Lizzy." His tone held a tinge of discouragement. "Find something that speaks to you, that makes you happy. And if it's beyond your "price range"," he mockingly quoted with his fingers, "let me help you."
She just kept her mouth shut, knowing arguing with him was pointless. She had one thing in mind, he had another. There had to be a compromise in there somewhere.
And why there needed to be one at all, confused her.
It was her house, her money. But even with that thought in mind, she would still try. She'd take suggestions on security and what not too, if only to show him, she did appreciate his input.
They looked a little bit more, when she realized he had gone quiet.
She looked over, smiling warmly, finding Red had nodded off. He appeared quite comfortable too, if his peaceful expression and even breathing meant anything.
She busied herself with the computer, continuing her search.
She heard a familiar sound, hastily setting aside the computer. She reached even more hastily for Red's arm.
"Don't you dare shoot my cook." she whispered harshly.
"Are you ready for lunch?" the cheerful voice echoed from outside the door.
"That would be lovely." Liz forced a brightness to her reply.
She felt the man's arm relax, hearing the 'click' of his automatic weapon as the safety was pushed back on.
"We will be in shortl..."
"Now, you stay right there." Nora directed breezily, walking away. "I'll bring it to you."
"You really have to set up a camera in the hall." Liz suggested strongly.
"It wouldn't be half as much fun." Red's reply was muffled by the pillows.
A minute later, Dembe and Nora arrived, carrying trays laden down with food. Nora set up the small private table across the way, by the large picture windows.
The sun was shining today, the weather was wonderful. She thought it might brighten the man's spirit.
Red thanked both participants for their kindness. Lizzy made her way to the table.
She looked over the delicious array, seating herself, then realized her companion had not yet joined her. She cast a quizzical glance his way.
"I'm waiting for an early release, Warden." he quipped, clearly pleased with himself.
"How does solitary confinement, hit 'cha, jailbird." she lifted noble brows.
Red shrugged mentally, having enjoyed the exchange. He lifted his weary body, trudging over to his self appointed keeper.
Red blinked the hazy fog from his eyes trying to focus on the surrounding area. Lizzy stared down at the man, her face a mask of concern. She wiped him gently with cold wet cloths.
"Your temperature spiked." she answered the unasked question. "You think you can get some more pills down?"
He inhaled shakily, nodding.
She disappeared from sight, but was back seconds later, offering him more drugs and water.
He sat up, shivering with the intense fever. Liz placed a wrap about his shoulders, her lips grazing his cheek.
Red leaned into the touch, both wanting and needing the attention. She moved to his forehead, laying her lips against his fevered brow. She drew back, her concern deepening.
"You feel hotter than before." the back of her hand wavered gently across his forehead, lingering slightly.
He dutifully took the other pill, his forehead falling weakly to her shoulder for support. His breathing was short and labored.
"How are we going to get this fever down?" she fretted, her fingers trailing soothingly against his head. "You think you can shower?"
"Not yet."
He leaned back into her, enjoying the light massage as she rubbed his back absently.
He was hot, trembling with fever... and so quiet. When he'd answered her, his voice was weakened, shaky.
She had never seen Red Reddington so vulnerable before.
He was usually so animated, even when wounded. You could shoot the man and he waved it off, making a smart ass remark.
But now, he leaned against her silently, his muscles shaking with exhaustion.
This was not good.
She reached for the radio, calling for assistance.
It only took seconds but it seemed hours before Joe pushed through the door, coming to her aide.
"What's the problem?" he looked his boss over, frowning at the unresponsive man.
"Elizabeth?" Dembe had followed the guard, having heard the call for help.
"Dembe, he's burning up." Liz's voice was laced with anxiety, her eyes beseeching the men for help.
The large man came to their side, grasping Red's arm, frowning at the heat coming from Red's body.
"Start the bath." Dembe directed the other guard.
Liz backed away, noting Red's shaking had intensified without her support.
Dembe grasped the man around the torso, sliding his slack frame from the bed.
Both men maneuvered Red to the bathroom, lowering him into the half full tub.
"Should we call Kaplan?" she wished desperately to follow her instincts.
"Let's see what this does." the large man suggested. "If his fever breaks, we will be fine."
Both men methodically doused Red in the lukewarm water. Any attempt at communication failed to garner a response.
"Has he ever been this bad before?" she paced restlessly about the large space, watching the proceeding, feeling utterly helpless.
"I have seen worse." Dembe's quiet voice was somehow reassuring.
"You think he has an infection?" which was what she was most concerned about.
"No." Dembe assured. "There was a particularly nasty virus going around Europe while we were there." The man continued his efforts to cool his friend's body. "He may have contracted it... it only lasts forty eight hours."
"Why don't you have it?"
"My exposure was limited." he explained patiently. "Raymond did more face to face than I."
"Cold..." the man in the tub muttered quietly.
"Red?" Liz hastened to the man's side. "You want us to call Mr. Kaplan?"
"Already feel like shit." he groaned miserably. "Don't make it worse, please."
She smiled at the man, brushing his face gently, "You big baby."
"I'm cold." he repeated.
Liz stuck the thermometer in his mouth, waiting. "It's ninety nine, now." she nodded at Dembe.
Red pushed up slightly, then stopped when Liz sat her hand on his shoulder.
"I can do it." he snapped.
The two men ignored the 'suggestion', hooking his arms and legs, sitting him on the side of the tub.
"I'll get him something dry." Liz hobbled to the closet, picking out one of Red's favorite lounge clothes.
Red's head swirled slowly, as he mumbled something indistinguishable to Dembe.
Joe lay some fresh towels beside the man, blocking her view momentarily. "We've got this, ma'am." He smiled pleasantly. "If you would give us a moment's privacy."
Liz blinked, waylaid by the request. "But–"
"We'll get him changed." the man, while supposedly an employee, suddenly made Elizabeth feel that her only option was to obey the recommendation.
"Thank you, you're very kind." he smiled softly at her to ease the rebuke and it worked.
Liz peaked around the large guard, her view totally obscured, indecisive as yet whether or not to leave Red.
"You little voyeur." Joe quirked his brow in forced amusement. "Come on now," he took her arm, guiding her gently into the bedroom, "Red wants you to rest, get warm."
She took one last look around the large man's frame. Dembe was pulling on Red's shirt sleeve, and then the door was unceremoniously closed in her face.
She headed for the bed, a little annoyed at the obvious brush off before stopping dead in her tracks.
"Ice packs." she turned quickly, only to stopped by her muscled guard.
"I will get the ice packs." Joe's pleasant smile was in place. "You get in bed." he pointed behind her. "Now, go." he shooed her. "Everything is under control."
"Were you always this bossy..." she grumbled, but did as bid, "or is it hanging out with Silas?"
"I've always been like this." he assured. "I'll be back in a minute. You stay out of there." he pointed towards the bath.
Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest, sitting back into the pillows with a huff. Joe smiled down at the vexed woman, before heading for the door.
"He likes the big blue one," she called after the man, "with the felt covering."
Joe waved a dismissing hand, disappearing around the doorframe.
The master bath doors swung open, as Dembe navigated Red to the warm bed.
"Joe's getting your ice pack." the woman rolled up on her knees, pulling the blankets back for Red. Her eyes were filled with concern.
Red nodded silently, sitting heavily. The man's usually ramrod straight posture, was slumped over, his head bowed. He was so quiet, exhausted... so unlike the boisterous, self assured man she knew.
Everything about him bespoke of how ravaged his body was being by this insidious virus.
"Lay down Red." Liz pleaded.
Red eased back into the bed, laying down slowly, pushing the heel of his palm into his forehead.
"Dizzy?" she enquired solicitously.
"Headache." it was corrected.
Joe arrived on scene, ice pack in hand, handing it over gingerly. Liz slid the cool pack under Red's neckline.
"Raymond." Dembe held out a pill and water.
Red rolled to his side, swallowing the pills then laid back, winded by the small activity.
"Let him rest. He will be fine tomorrow." Dembe stopped in the doorway, looking back at Liz. "If you need assistance, do not hesitate."
And with that, he shut the door behind him.
She reached, shutting the lights down, scooting close to the man, curving her body closer. Her fingers gently kneaded the fine hair by his temples, easing down to the tight muscles of his neckline.
"Can you roll to your side." she asked, whisper soft. "I want to rub your neck."
Red considered the consequences. She might inadvertently touch his scars.
"You don't have to do that." Red he decided, replying quietly.
"Just..." she sighed, "let me help you."
The man lay there debating his options before listing to his side, reluctantly giving her access.
Her hands worked miracles on the tension in his body. She was pleased at the soft sigh of relief which escaped his lips.
She massaged her thumbs into the nape of his neck, kneading the tightness.
"Too hard?" she asked quietly.
"Huh uh." he muttered sleepily around his yawn.
It was funny that something so simplistic could bring her such joy. Red had helped her so much, in so many different ways... so to return the favor, as small as it was, and for it to be so well received, was very gratifying.
She was pleased to hear his breathing deepen minutes later. For a long moment, she continued her efforts, believing him to be asleep.
"Thank you, Lizzy..." Red's deep voice somewhat startled her coming out of the night, as it were. "That is helping tremendously."
She leaned forward, kissing him tenderly behind the ear, "You're most welcome." she whispered.
She felt horrible that he was ill, but in some way, she also felt vindicated.
Red had given so much of himself to her lately, that in this minuscule way, she felt she had repaid him just a tad.
She found she enjoyed the task. It was no burden what-so-ever.
She genuinely cared for this man. How it had come to such a state, she could not have said.
Somewhere along the line, he had become more...
At this point, she would not label any of the emotions she was feeling for Red Reddington. She did finally realize however that those emotions existed.
Red had been relaxing... truly relaxing for three days. Thanks to his little no nonsense nurse. He almost felt his old self again.
He had truly been enjoying the down time. His favorite part of the day was rapidly approaching.
He and Lizzy had established a routine of sorts. He found she enjoyed when he read aloud passages from a couple of his favorite books. They would find a secluded spot and in this instance, today... it was to be the sitting room and he would do his thing and the woman appeared utterly enthralled.
Quite the ego boost, he had to admit.
It was with a light spring in his step that he journeyed to the prearranged spot now.
But Lizzy was not alone... she had a guest.
The woman sat facing the door way, her eyes closed and she was totally reclined on the couch.
Francis sat in front of her, positioned between her legs. Red could not see exactly what was taking place but whatever it was, put a serene smile on Elizabeth's face.
Red's first instinct was to back away and give them privacy. He hesitated, fighting against that instinct.
Liz raised her head, opening her eyes, the blueness focusing on him.
She grinned widely, motioning him forward then pointed downward.
Red inched into the room, staring over Francis' shoulder as he came closer.
His brows rose in mock surprise, finally seeing what Francis was working on.
Where once there had been a plain white cast, there was now a plethora of color covering most of her leg in a beautiful peacock design.
"He thought I needed something." She sniggered.
"Oh, hey Red." Francis concentrated hard, filling in the feather he had drawn. "I didn't hear you come in." he sat back, critically analyzing his work. "We may have a little problem."
"It looks okay to me." Red tried to keep the elation from his voice. He thought the little asshole had been giving the woman oral... to say he was relieved was a great understatement.
"No, no." he replied impatiently. "Conte has Anne."
"Ah, damn." Red finally understood. "All right," his sigh was genuine, "...I'll take care of it."
Both men adjourned to Red's office to begin arbitration.
After an hour of careful negotiation the problem was solved. Conte released Anne with the understanding that she would never cross his path again.
When Red hung up the phone, he groaned audibly.
"You think you made a mistake?" Francis asked.
"We'll see in the next couple days. I probably shouldn't have bailed her out, but she has had her uses." Red was already beginning to second guess the nature of the problem, however. "If she screws up again, she's on her own. I'm just hoping she's learned her lesson."
"I'm not holding my breath." Francis chuckled humorlessly.
"You and Elizabeth are getting along, it seems."
Francis glanced around hastily, searching for someone else the man might be speaking to... but the room was empty.
"You talkin' to me?"
"Well, I'm not talking to Robert De Niro." Red confirmed.
Francis had always prided himself on his ability to go with the flow, so in this instance... he went.
"Yeah, she's nice. I like her." he shrugged mentally. "Much better than Madeline. You picked a good one this time."
"You didn't like Madeline?" the statement had surprised Red.
"Hell no. She was evil." the man shivered slightly. "I always expected to turn around and find a knife in my back when she was around."
Red chuckled, "Why?"
"I don't know, she always had that sly grin thing going on." the man scrunched up his face in open distaste. "Like she was the cat and you were the mouse about to get pounced on, and not in a fun way."
"But you don't find that with Lizzy?"
"Nah, she's laid back." the young guy roamed the office, snooping in this thing and that. He held up a finely crafted sailboat from a shelf over by the large picture window. "Isn't on guard, though, maybe she should be if she's hooked up with you."
The young man shifted a sly up and under look to his host.
"With Silas and Dembe a radio call away, she's finally relaxing in a way she never has before."
"Getting used to the guards, huh?" Francis examined a pocket watch meticulously. "How she can, is beyond me... Neanderthals."
"She's adapting to the life quickly." Red tried to keep the pride from his voice.
"Which isn't easy, I know." the man put down the watch, moving onward. "Hence, one of the reasons I haven't seriously dated anyone in... ever."
"But you like Lizzy?" Red kept his tone carefully neutral.
"Sure, but she's a rare type." he picked up a metal shell casing which was one of many in a wooden container on the man's desk. "What? You too cheap to buy news ones?"
Red let it go. Francis shrugged, continuing. "And of course, she has you to help guide her along." it was granted. "You've been at this a long time, you're a pro. Who better to help you adapt to this weird ass lifestyle?" he sighed heavily. "Maybe I'll get lucky one day and find someone who can handle it as well as she does."
Francis put a glass paperweight back into place. "I hope she can cook."
"Francis, are you listening to me at all?"
The young man sat down in a chair, his face twisting in confusion. "Uh, I think so?"
"Do you like Lizzy?" Red repeated slowly.
"Well, like, sure." the guy hated repeating himself and then something dawned on him. "Oh... wait. You mean... like her, like her?"
"...Yes." Red's tone was quiet.
"How can I answer this and you won't kill me?"
"I won't kill you, no matter what you say." the eyes turned slightly cold. "Unless you threaten her, then you're dead."
Francis inhaled shakily, "Okay. I like her, but not romantically. She's your girl, for God's sake."
"And if she wasn't?"
"Is this a trick question?" he was becoming agitated. "I don't know. I guess I could, but really I haven't even..." He arose, his expression an earnest one. "Red, I would never move in on your girl."
"Calm down, Francis." the man sat as he had since first entering the room, arms crossed, posture relaxed, manner calmly serene. Little did anyone know, Red's insides were churning chaotically.
"Yeah, right. While I'm over here shitting myself, you want to tell me what the hell is going on?" he spread his hands. "Did I make a pass and don't remember it?"
"No, you haven't done anything wrong." Red tilted his head slightly. "I'm just curious. Checking." he shrugged well defined shoulders. "She's young, your young."
"I'm also Caucasian, like romantic dinners, horseback riding, long walks on the beach and funnily enough, the missionary position is my favorite." The man's speech patterns tended to run together when he was unsettled. "What the hell does that have to do with anything? Is there something wrong? Has she..."
"Made suggestive remarks about you?" Red tested the waters.
"No!" it was emphatically denied. "Has she?" Francis' tone was definitely interested... then not. "I meant, has she cheated on you or something before?"
"No."
"What? You're bored with her? You don't want her anymore and you're looking for a new home for her? What's going on?"
"No, nothing like that. I just saw you two together and how comfortable you were getting, and I thought I should ask."
"What the hell for?" the kid was beside himself for such an outlook.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I am a little bit older than she." the fact grated on the man. "I'd be an idiot if I didn't think she might want to move on to some younger stock someday."
"So what," Francis squeaked, "you thought it would be me?"
"Well, I don't see why not. You're charming, handsome, you make her laugh."
"You're going to make me blush." Francis disdained. "Red, I wonder about you sometimes. I may be those things... God knows it's the truth."
Red rolled his eyes at the younger man's boasting.
"But you... you're all that, plus some. You may be older, but you wouldn't know it. You make us young guys look like pussies. You speak of power, experience, and stability. And don't think she doesn't see that." he shook his head despairingly. "We all pale in comparison to you."
It was true that Red did have power, experience and stability. But he had become cold and merciless to gain those qualities. He had enough blood on his hands, that the thought of touching Lizzy with them sometimes, troubled him greatly.
His Past... haunted him. And in turn, would do that same to her. Would he ever be able to tell her the truth about who he really was? What about her mother? Her father?
Would she even believe him if he did?
He had rolled those facts around in his head so many times, tried to think of the best way to deliver the truth. But without concrete proof...
It sounded outlandish in his head sometimes. And he knew it wasn't. So who the hell knew what she would think.
"Even if I did have romantic intentions towards Liz, which I don't," Francis was quick to reassure," not only because the threat of death cools my ardor," he waved irritably, "she wouldn't give me a second glance when you're standing there blocking everyone else out." he shook his head woefully. "And if you don't see that or know that to be a fact, then you're delusional."
Red knew he could give Liz everything she could ever desire. He could be a better man. Because damn it, he was a good man.
He had just been caught up in this damned fiasco for so long now, all he could do was fight back. Fix what was wrong, one step at a time.
"If you haven't seen how she lights up when you enter a room, then you're either blind or don't want to see it." Francis philosophized "But I suppose, I should be flattered that you would see me as a replacement for you."
"Yes well," Red's eyes glazed over with that thing he did which sent shivers down the most stout of spines, "I'm not dead yet."
AUTHOR NOTE:
Okay, my little readers.
My Beta... the troll... played a little joke on me.
I let Beta name some of the OC's since I was concentrated on future chapters.
She has named one... Daniel Courtland. She did give an option to call him Danny or Court, but has pretty much filled it all in with... Danny.
She said: Hey, he's a lot like you in some respects, so why not? And then she laughed maniacally.
He plays a pretty large part in the fic later and to change his name would be time consuming (and the troll knew it) but I could edit it as I go.
It is a pretty great name, I have to admit.
So should I change his name or what?