"If I don't get out of the house, for even a little while, I'll go crazy." Red broke the news to anyone who was listening.
Dembe looked up from his morning paper then went back to perusing the same.
Nora stopped tidying up, smiling at her employer understandingly.
Liz was pleasantly surprised, finally sensing the man was actually, truly feeling better. "What would you like to do?" she asked amiably.
"Something normal people do." Red had long since decided.
"And what is it that normal people do?" Liz smiled at the seriousness of his proclamation.
He pulled on his ear, thoughtfully. "What about checking out a few of those houses you've been searching online?"
The woman's face masked instantly. "Maybe that's too soon..."
"I won't tax myself." he replied gruffly. "We'll just see one or two."
Liz checked with Dembe who had secretly 'checked' with Mr. Kaplan throughout Red's three day convalescence.
The woman was thrilled to see a subtle nod of approval from the large black man.
"Well, I guess..." she began uncertainly, "it would be okay... for just a few hours. I mean, if you really want?" excitement bubbled up inside her.
Red was just as pleased she had accepted his offer.
An hour later, found them on site for the first house Elizabeth had checked off for her list.
Somewhere in the process, they had picked up a small entourage.
They traversed the small winding sidewalk leading to the front entrance.
Silas looked over the small two story townhouse, his gaze a critical one. "Is this the dodgy part of town?" he wanted to know, checking out the surrounding buildings absently.
"I don't even know what that means." Liz told the truth.
"He's just being snobbish." Francis dismissed airily. "He forgets, I've seen his digs." the man exchanged belligerent glances with the guard. "This is her house. We have no input... how many bedrooms does it have?" it was instantly questioned.
"Why?" Liz wanted to know.
"Well, in case I come to stay. And of course there's Dembe," he reminded helpfully," and you'll need somewhere for security." he added.
Liz frowned hard, looking back over her list. "He's right, maybe three bedrooms isn't enough?" she looked soulfully in Red's direction. "You could just stay in with me if we could manage four, I think?" she said for his ear only.
She reworked her search parameters on her tablet, completely missing Red's face go through a plethora of expressions.
The man was stunned, one part of him pleased as hell, she was interested in accommodating his friends, but more specifically that they continued to share a bedroom. On the other hand, pissed that she would change her own plans to do so.
"Hello, I'm Janet, the realtor." A woman waited patiently for their arrival, immediately handing over a print out of the pertinent information concerning the house to Red, who scanned it quickly before passing it on to Liz. "I didn't expect so many visitors today." she gushed enthusiastically.
Not that the woman really objected, for all four men were quite handsome, each in their own way.
"If you or your husband have any questions..." The woman smiled brightly, freaking Liz out for a host of reasons. "I will be close by as you tour this lovely find."
They all filed in orderly to the small foyer, which seemed infinitely more so by the bulk of Silas and Dembe. Each man shouldered the other for a proper place of residency in the limited space.
"That woman's cheerfulness in beyond 'Stepford Wife' creepy." Francis whispered aside.
Liz held her amusement, more interested in touring the house.
"Is this a bedroom?" Silas asked, scowling slightly.
"That's the living room." Francis corrected before walking over and kicking a baseboard.
"What the hell are you doing?" Silas bitched. "You're not checking air in a tire."
"It is the formal dining room." Dembe had guessed correctly.
"Get out of town." Francis was appalled. "How many will that seat... four?"
Liz heard, her insecurities coming to the fore.
"Shut up." Silas suggested evenly. "You're making her feel bad." he had noticed the stricken look on the woman's face.
"Why, she didn't design the house." Francis was confused.
Red threw the entourage a lethal glare. "When she wants your input, I'll ask for it."
Francis took the news in his stride. Silas grinned. And Dembe, checked out the backyard through the French doors which opened out unto a small deck.
"Hudson would enjoy the back yard." Dembe nodded his approval.
"Maybe this isn't the right house?" she confided to Red. "It looked bigger online."
"Everything looks bigger online." Silas leaned over, confiding in Dembe. "Especially those nude pictures I send out." he shared the joke, gleefully.
"It would have to..." Dembe responded effortlessly.
"Burn!" Francis laughed heartily. "Score one for Dembe."
"Let's check out the upstairs." Red ignored the byplay completely, guiding the woman with a gentle hand on her back. He turned, his expression saying it all. "And we will do so, alone."
The next two houses had been duds... according to the entourage.
The neighbors in the first, were too nosy. They had greeted them upon arrival, even going through on the tour.
Perhaps they were a nice couple, but considering Liz was planning on hosting the FBI's Most Wanted and friends, they were a little too interested in every aspect of her life.
Thankfully, Red was so charming and friendly, the couple didn't pay much attention to anything else.
The second house, the neighbors were the complete opposite. Halfway through the kitchen area, loud raucous music suddenly filled the air.
Liz lifted a helpless shrug whereupon Red excused himself briefly.
Within a few moments, the noise had abated, the man returned, an amiable expression in place.
"I think they will keep it down now."
Silas grinned maniacally, sensing the course of action which had been taken.
"Some people..." Francis tsked knowingly. "And that music... reminds me when I was in the Monastery in Tibet."
"They let you in a Monastery?" Silas screwed up his expression.
"It was a money laundering operation."
"Excuse me?" the realtor had heard several interesting comments from these gentlemen, but that one was deserving of a response.
"What I meant to say..." Francis had caught Red's hasty shift of the eyes, "we had to do our own laundry while there, as a penance for all our sins." he pulled a sad face which charmed the hell out of the woman.
"I bet you did an ass load." Silas was relatively sure, but he had kept it for Francis' ears only.
On the way to the next house, Liz could not contain her curiosity. "Red, what did you do to make those people shut off the music?" she shifted him a scolding glance.
"He got cocky." he shrugged. "I just brought him back to reality."
"Made him shit himself, you mean." Francis translated. "Been there, done that." he elbowed Red in open camaraderie.
Red shifted away, his expression saying it all.
Dembe pulled up to the last house.
Red set his hand on the back of the seat turning towards the woman. He lay his hand on hers, his eyes mellow. "You're going to look at this house by yourself." she was informed. "There will be no unwarranted, unsolicited advice." he glanced at the peanut gallery.
Silas grinned, suddenly concentrating on the scenery outside the darkly tinted windows. Francis seemed genuinely put out by the proclamation. Dembe pulled out a crossword puzzle.
"You know what you like, you can see the possibilities." he had complete confidence in her. "You know what you want. You know what you don't."
"I don't see why she can't just live at the house?" Francis piped up.
"If it was any of your business, which it isn't..." Red stated. "She wants her own place."
"Oh, I get it..." Francis finally did, "it's for when you get in one of your pissy moods, the one where no one can stand to be around–"
"What he means, boss." Silas helped out. "You know when you go off the deep end and even Dembe here wants to get out of Dodge..."
"Shut up, both of you." the discussion was ended. "She wants a place to decorate, a piece of real estate on which she can make a profit, her own money."
"Women..." Silas mumbled to himself, "What the hell do we see in them... oh, wait." it dawned on him. "Never mind."
"Can you come with me?" she asked plaintively. "I value your opinion."
"Oh, and you don't ours." Francis was 'hurt'.
"No." she said succinctly. She waited on pins and needles, for Red's reply.
She instinctively knew that the man wanted this to be special for her, a moment to be remembered.
Her first home.
He understood the importance of that connection.
His understanding meant more than he realized.
Usually, searching for a new house, was a process a husband and wife should make together. Not that Red was her husband, but she knew now, that he would be a good one.
If he should ever remarry, the woman would be lucky to have gained his acceptance.
But if he did remarry, what did that mean to them? Would he stop seeing her?
The thought disturbed her. She had become so accustomed to Red being there, just a call away. She found herself feeling... agitated, that he might become romantically infatuated with another woman.
Because if she were romantic with Red, she would want him within reach and certainly not constantly hanging around another female.
"Come along darling..." Red's voice was laced with something she could not read, as if he sensed the direction of her thoughts and found them mildly charming perhaps, "let's see if this will be our new love nest."
Minutes later they had walked the small property, Red watching her face as she looked things over.
So far, he had picked up that Liz loathed the color of the walls, wasn't crazy about the kitchen cabinets, hated the back yard, and wasn't pleased with the placement of the laundry room. But, she did like the powder room.
And she hadn't said a word.
Come to think of it, she hadn't said anything since leaving the car. He wondered what was on her mind.
"Did they really bother you?" he motioned to the men in the waiting car.
She downed her head in lieu of an answer. "Not bother per se, no." she lifted those eyes. "They were just trying to be helpful."
"Then what?" he persisted. Again she fell silent. "Was it the fact that the Stepford Wife referred to us as husband and wife?"
She flushed slightly. "Of course not, that was just an oversight on her part." she managed a weak smile. "I wasn't sure what to do, to be honest."
"I rather enjoyed it." he stated bluntly, while watching closely for her reaction.
"Y-You enjoyed it?" the statement through her off balance. "Why would you say such a thing?"
"Because it's true." he said simply. "What were your thoughts on the matter."
"Well I..." she was flummoxed. "Well, I mean, that's the part we're playing, right?" she felt him out carefully.
"Maybe I'm sick of playing a part."
She tried desperately to read his face. "What does that mean Red?"
"What do you want it to mean, Elizabeth."
His gaze rested on her, as he stepped back once, cocking his head waiting patiently.
"I..I'm not sure what you want me to say?"
He nodded agreeably. "I see." was all he offered.
The silence was deafening.
Panic arose in the young woman's mind.
"Shall we continue." he lifted his hand, hat held firmly between two fingers.
"Wait..." she caught his arm as he had stepped forward. He resumed his former position, again falling into his patient vigilance. His gaze stealing her soul from her body.
She reacted instinctively. Liz leaned closer and for a brief moment, as she scrutinized the taciturn obliqueness staring back at her... time stood still.
She found herself inexplicably drawn into wondrous depths of the complicated individual in front of her.
Red stood perfectly still, willing the woman forward. He could smell the spearmint on her breath, she was so close.
Her eyes pleaded with him for assistance but in this instance, he knew, it must be her choice and hers alone.
Not that he couldn't help in other ways. His eyes softened, his head tilted, his lips parting ever so slightly in open invitation.
Liz was out of her depth, knowing as much but she found herself brushing away that line in the sand, one grain at a time.
Her arm lifted of it's own volition, her fingers feather light on the curve of his lapel as they traced a gentle path to his shoulder.
Red's eyes dropped meaningfully to the full pout of her mouth, his breath grazing her cheek.
Liz's fingers tightened slightly into the muscles of his shoulder, as she stepped fully into his warming aura.
Her breasts brushed the rich linen of his suit and suddenly his scent surrounded her. She closed her eyes, lifting her lips in anticipation.
Red's lips trailed a tentative path from her forehead, across the sculptured pertness of her nose, to the pink freckles of her cheek, lingering for a breathless moment.
Liz's breath escaped in light pants of anticipation. Her fingers curled tightly into the fabric of the man's collar, urging him closer.
Red's mouth brushed the very corner of her parted lips.
A discreet clearing of the throat alerted the two that they were no longer alone.
Elizabeth started visibly, her cheeks flaming a rich hue as she guiltily moved away from Red's vicinity. She lowered her head, hiding her embarrassment.
Red's look spoke volumes as he checked for the intruder's whereabouts. His entire focus had been with Elizabeth Keen.
"I'm sorry, Raymond." Dembe clearly was. "There's been an... incident."
Reddington was instantly alert, his features showing as much.
"Your friend, Anne." the dark eyes said the rest.
Raymond was stunned. "When...?"
"Francis said that her body was found an hour ago... in her hotel room." Dembe delivered the news.
"Oh my God..." she stepped up close to Red, her hand unconsciously seeking the security he always afforded her.
"What the hell happened?" his steps hurried to the source of information he trusted.
He guided Liz gently to the waiting SUV.
Francis and Silas were outside the car, both wearing serious expressions. Francis approached as the trio came on the scene, phone to ear.
"It was not Conte." the young man advised hastily. "What we know so far... no signs of a struggle, no forced entry, so she must have known whoever..." he glanced at Liz.
"How was she killed?" Red demanded.
"They set it up to look like an overdose, boss." Silas said. "Needle in the arm, coke spread out on the tables, yada, yada, yada."
Francis nodded, "Yeah, we know... she didn't use."
"But it wasn't Conte?" his eyes hardened.
"Air tight alibi, boss." it was Silas' turn to shake his head. "I had my guys check it out."
Red sighed heavily, dropping his head for a second. "Well, just... shit."
"We're running our own tox, Red." Francis gave some hope.
"Kaplan?"
Francis confirmed. "It was one of ours who found her. So we have a head start on the cops at least."
"Was she still in New York?" Red asked quietly.
"That's an affirmative." Silas verified.
"Make arrangements for the flight out." he had turned to Dembe. "By nightfall, Dembe, if you will."
Red breezed through the doorway half an hour later.
An impeccably dressed woman followed close behind, her arms full of what looked to be catalogs and several samples on rings hanging from her fingers.
"Lizzy, this is Karen. She's here to help you shop." Red called on his way through to the bathroom.
"Shop?" Liz set up instantly, her head jerking from one person to the other.
"Since we're on a time schedule here," Red stuck his head out of the closet, "I thought I'd bring it to you."
"Red?" her expression was more than guarded. "With what has just happened..." she hoped he would pick up the clue. "I don't think this is the perfect time to shop."
"You need things for New York." he stated simply. "Especially with what's just happened."
Liz thought he referred to clothes for the funeral, "Oh, of course. I'm sorry." she apologized. "I didn't know I was going along."
"Well, you are." he motioned with his head to the woman. "So if you would please..."
An hour later, Red came out of the bath, refreshed and looking like a million dollars.
She had only just finished with the woman she had dubbed, 'Miss Perfect'.
"Red..." she was about to burst. "I told that woman I only needed a simple black dress for the funeral and stuff, not that I said funeral... but she insisted I buy all these gowns and shoes and..." she stopped for a breath, "I kept telling her and she kept saying, 'Mr. Reddington said you would need these'." her eyes were large and befuddled.
"And she was right." Red nodded his satisfaction.
"I can't afford those things." she argued. "News flash, I am a lowly government paid employee."
"Who is playing the part of Red Reddington's fiancée." He reminded, fixing his tie in the mirror. "Why is it that you keep forgetting that, Elizabeth." his eyes caught her's in the mirror. "Is it Freudian."
She fell silent, having no reply. She was still feeling slightly depressed over this 'Anne' person's death. She had not known the woman personally, but she still felt bad.
"Now," he turned to fully face her, his eyes running her body inoffensively, "we have a little under an hour before the flight... let's go get those casts off."
Liz forgot all about the poor woman's death for a split second, her face beaming her joy. But then she remembered, feeling horrible again for her lapse.
Still, getting these heavy weights off her body was like getting them off her mind. She could not truthfully say she was regretting it.
"How are you holding up, Lizzy?" they had arrived at their destination.
"Oh, I'm so good." She said, wringing her hands anxiously. "I'm really, really good... a little nauseous, but in a good way."
"This should not take long." He held his smile. "We'll go to dinner afterwards to celebrate."
She looked at him oddly. "Getting casts removed?"
"No, it's our anniversary." he teased.
"Anniversary?" she was totally confused.
"You've been with me for a month now. It was actually a couple days ago, but I was sick." Red explained. "I think the occasion calls for a celebration."
"Not that I'm going to turn down free food..." she tried to say what she needed to say correctly. "This poor woman just..."
"Forget about the poor woman, Lizzy." Red suggested. "She would not think twice about you. Besides, in our business... it happens."
"You seemed upset."
"I am upset. But I live in the moment." he waved his hand about in a dismissive manner. "We will celebrate her life, we will avenge her death and the matter is closed for the moment, all right."
She nodded thoughtfully. "If that's how you want it."
"After a month in the same house... I would have figured you would have tried to kill me at least once, by now." he shrugged. "You haven't... something to celebrate."
"Sam always told me, don't bite the hand that feeds you..." she replied solemnly.
"Sam also said, life is like toilet paper, you're either on a roll or taking shit from some asshole." Red sighed, then raised a finger to his forehead, suddenly remembering another gem. "And boobs are proof that men can focus on two things at once."
"So what?" she finally giggled. "Are you saying I shouldn't listen to Sam's advice?"
Red tilted his head, lost in thought for a moment, "Actually, I'm not quite sure what my point was, exactly." he shook his head, clearing it of 'the world according to Sam Milhoan'.
"But I think the point I was trying to make was, don't hold back from doing what makes you happy." he waved about his hand with flourish. "Even if it means you end up maiming me."
A short time later, they exited the doctor's office.
Lizzy was practically dancing due to her new found freedom, having lost not just one, but both casts.
Granted, she had soft casts for a couple weeks, but as she grinned up at Red, it was evident that she was more than happy to be mobile again.
"Let's go eat." Red tipped his hat, settling his hand on Liz's low back, escorting her to the car.
Elizabeth should have known when in Red Reddington's company, one should expect the unexpected.
After a quick stop by the house, they found some of the garments Liz had ordered waiting for them, along with new luggage. After quickly packing, they were loaded back into the car and bound for New York before she could even process what was happening.
After their arrival, Red sent Francis on ahead to the hotel to meet Mark, leaving them to hit a favorite spot of Red and Dembe's for dinner. And Liz had to agree, it had been quite an adventuresome outing.
As they finished, Dembe went across the way to take care of a quick errand, leaving Red and Liz to enjoy coffee and a small treat.
After relating a story about two sisters who both had an unhealthy infatuation for Dembe, which terrified the poor man, something Red had never witnessed before in his entire time with Dembe... he left Liz laughing at their table, while he went to see what was taking so long with the damned bill.
He waited semi-patiently, looking out the large bay window just as Dembe slid to the curb in the black SUV. He glanced back at the table, to note Elizabeth gathering her bag.
"Raymond..." a woman's voice purred softly behind him.
He turned towards the source, pulling up short.
"Lexa..." he glanced hastily to check on Liz who was headed his way. He turned back, making a leisurely transition. "What are you doing here?"
She smiled flirtatiously. "I did not expect to see you here."
"The feeling is mutual." Red took the card the attendant handed him, shoving it in his wallet. "I don't mean to be rude, but I have to..."
The woman put a stilling hand on his arm, "I'm in town for a few days." she stepped into his space, stroking his tie with her fingertip. "If you would like to– "
"I don't think that will be possible this time, Lexa." Red pulled back a hair, smiling charmingly at the woman.
He needed to keep Lexa in his good graces, for so many reasons. Being his top 'go to' source for money laundering and a reliable contact with the underground in Italy, she was a very valuable resource.
"You don't appear busy now." the woman sidled cozily up against him.
Dembe glanced to the restaurant, taking in the developing scene. He grimaced slightly, seeing Liz step around the corner just as Lexa drew her lips sensually across Raymond's chin.
Red winced slightly, tsking under his breath for the unfortunate timing with which he was cursed.
"Red?" Liz's tone was a cross between total disbelief and hopeful anticipation that there was a perfectly logical reason why this woman... this absolutely stunning woman, was sucking on Red Reddington's face as if she had every right to do so.
The man stepped back leisurely, gently clearing his throat. "Elizabeth, this is an... associate," he explained, "... Lexa."
Liz's brow furrowed deeply. She stepped, taking her place at Red's side, looping her arm through his, territorially.
The two women sized each other up.
"Lexa, this is Elizabeth." Red gestured to the steely eyed woman beside him. "My fiancée.
Lexa swiveled her head jerkily towards Red, her expression incredulous then hastily masked.
"So, congratulations are in order." the woman smiled pleasantly. "And how long have you two been engaged?"
Liz laid her hand over Red's arm, flashing her ring. "Four months."
Lexa's brow rose, staring silently at Red, long enough that an uncomfortable silence ensued. "I see." she replied evenly, then smiled. "I'm very happy for you."
Red glanced out the corner of his eye, finding Dembe, who now stood a few feet away, rubbing his temples methodically.
Red on the other hand found himself very hard pressed, not to laugh at the absurd situation they found themselves in.
The tension was so thick right now, you could cut it with a knife. And for what reason?
Because he was literally stuck between a woman he had fucked, and one whom he would give anything to fuck.
Both of them, with their own little thoughts about the man between them.
And he was positive none of them were pleasant thoughts.
He was sure Lexa thought he played around on Elizabeth.
And Lizzy, was playing her part as Red's fiancée... to the hilt. She was savvy enough to pick up that there was some sort of past between him and Lexa, and what that past entailed.
Just not the exact timing of said... dalliance. Not that it seemed to matter.
Elizabeth was making her displeasure very well known, staring down the woman opposite them for all she was worth.
Shit...
"Thank you, Lexa." Red replied amiably.
Lexa looked at her watch, breaking the stalemate. "I should go." she stated, smiling widely at nothing in particular.
Never a good sign, in Red's opinion.
"I'll be late for my meeting." She leaned up, gently kissing Red's cheek. "I'm at the Four Seasons." she whispered before discretely pulling back. "Have a lovely day, and congratulations, again." she smiled genuinely at Elizabeth before taking her leave.
Red directed Elizabeth out the door and to the waiting car, before going to the other side where Dembe waited.
"I'm sorry, Dembe." the man said to his friend.
"If she pulls her weapon," Dembe warned, "I'm leaving your ass and calling Uber."
"Chicken shit traitor." Red chuckled before opening the door, climbing in beside Lizzy.
"What the hell was that?" the woman asked peevishly.
"Awkward." Red replied simply.
"Who was she?" Liz crossed her arms over her chest, scowling when Red just smiled. "And what the hell are you smiling for?"
If he didn't know any better, he would think she was jealous.
"As I said, she is an associate." Red said. "I work with her."
"That's not all you did." she muttered heatedly.
The man turned his head to glance at the beautiful profile, his thoughts private.
Liz looked out the window, sighing. She didn't know why she was so upset. Red was entitled to a past.
Or present, it seemed.
"What did she say to you?"
Red watched the woman's foot tap impatiently, awaiting his answer.
"Excuse me?" Red enquired lightly, knowing very well what she was asking.
"When she kissed you."
"She didn't kiss me." Red corrected. "She only–"
"You're skirting the issue."
"She told me where she was staying." he replied evenly.
"She..." Liz's mouth pinched irritably. "After we told..." she huffed in irritation. "Bitch..." she whispered, though not softly enough, since Red heard her quite clearly.
The man glanced in the rearview mirror, his head cocking lazily when he found Dembe staring back at him with humored eyes.
"And I assume you're going to pay her a visit." the woman retained her window vigil.
"No."
"But you've been so clearly invited." she bit out.
"And I'm clearly not interested."
Liz turned her head, frowning. "You're not?"
"No, I'm not." Red said in no uncertain terms. "I'm right where I wish to be."