AUTHORS NOTE: The calm before the storm...
Red's eyes slit open, slowly blinking away the last of his sleep.
"Damn..." he whispered softly, scooting his hips back, away from Elizabeth.
He rolled to his back, urging the ramrod erection to recede, as he often did these days, more often than not, since he awoke just about every morning with his cock nestled against Lizzy's soft ass.
He sighed heavily, rolling from the bed, heading to the shower, hoping for a private moment to deal with this very noticeable issue.
This was getting old fast. Red was not accustomed to denying himself anything, let alone sexual release.
As he relaxed under the heated spray, Lizzy had come in to use the facilities and ask about the agenda for that day. After which, she busied herself with her morning routine.
Red could smell the feminine soap she used. She had left the cap off the bottle after her shower the night before.
The woman's musical voice had a pleasing lilt as she related an amusing incident between her and Francis. Red zoned off into, not so much the words, but her soothing tone.
He had no trouble at all, relieving himself of the rigid erection under such conditions.
This cock tease he'd been on the receiving end of for the last month had been wearing him thin. He realized, as he gasped the last vestiges of the primal urges away...
He really needed to get laid.
He hadn't been with anyone, in that way, since Lizzy had been staying with him.
He had been propositioned, but coming back to Lizzy seemed more important. He had been on the verge of taking Bridget up on her offer for a tumble, when Silas had called the night Lizzy had been in such distress.
The handjobs in the shower were holding him off, but that didn't mean he hadn't been and wasn't feeling the itch for a good fuck.
Normally, when he went to Mark's for the week, if he didn't bring someone, he always seemed to end up between a woman's legs. His very favorite spot to be in the entire universe.
But this year, that might prove to be difficult, seeing as he had a guest, a very important one at that, with which to occupy the time.
He shut the water down, dried himself and made way for the closet, donning his clothes for the day.
Maybe after seeing to Lizzy's needs and getting her settled in for the night... he'd have a little free time to scratch that itch.
He pulled his shoe on, tying it when he realized he was scowling darkly.
It felt wrong to go fuck someone when Liz was with him. But then, it seemed wrong to jerk off in the shower while listening to her talk on the other side of the wall, but he had done it.
Face it Red, your morals are shot to hell.
Maybe when he got to Marks, he'd feel differently, hopefully he would find a toy to play with. But right now, the thought of leaving Liz alone to go fuck, set him on edge.
"One thing at a time, Red." He sighed and pushed off the bench. "Deal with it later."
"Deal with what later?" Liz said, stepping inside the closet, holding out a coffee to him.
He took the hot cup, sipping it, pleasantly surprised to find it to his liking.
"I made it correctly, right?" she asked.
"You did, thank you." he took another mouthful, humming in pleasure.
She held her hand out, taking the warm cup then took a drink. "Now... deal with what later?"
"Nothing, sweetheart." He looped his belt, pushing it through the buckle before taking his coffee back from the thief who had stolen it.
Red and Francis were just about to hit the phone lines, touching base with contacts, getting the low down on Anne's activities in her last day.
When he was waylaid by a most pleasant surprise.
Liz stepped out of the bath area, her face slightly grimaced. She held her arms out from her sides, shaking her head slightly.
"Too much?" she held her breath for his critique because she secretly adored the creation she had donned.
The gown she wore was one that Red himself had suggested for the upcoming weekend.
Red halted his steps, as did the man beside him.
"Hot shit..." Francis' mouth fell agape, but he sensed Red's cool glance. "I mean... goodness, that gown is lovely."
Red took in the deep purple silk with it's black gossamer webbed overlay. The woman looked like a medieval fairy princess come to life. The train fell in sheer folds around her bare feet.
There was something disturbingly sensual in the image she evoked.
"Elizabeth," his eyes said so much more than his words, "you're absolutely ethereal."
The woman suddenly felt beautiful and all warm inside, her smile alluding to the fact.
"Well... I've never been that." she practically giggled. "But I simply adore this gown. It's almost too sinful to wear."
She retired to the other room, while the men continued on with their task.
An hour into their investigations, Red slapped his phone closed with a finality that bespoke of his mood.
"That little bitch!" he fumed.
"What? What happened?" Francis hesitated mid-dial, slowly closing his phone.
"It was Natalia." Red pushed off the couch, heading to the bar, pouring himself a stiff drink.
Liz entered the room, securing the tie around her robe, surprised at the venom in the man's tone. She remembered Red mentioning that name before... it was the woman who had spiked his drink.
"How can you be sure?" Liz crossed, taking a seat by the picturesque windows which offered an amazing view of the city behind them.
"I told you, I turned her in on that drug charge?" Red reminded. "This is her little way of ingratiating herself back into the fold."
"You mean she..." Liz gaped, "she killed Anne to get her business contacts?"
"Dog eat dog." Francis muttered, before taking a drink from his own tumbler. "Or in this case, bitch kill bitch." he swiveled his head towards Red, shrugging. "Sorry..." the man sighed. "What are you gonna do?"
Red huffed irritably, pouring another finger. "What the hell can I do?" he leaned back into the bar, crossing his ankles. "Why Anne even got involved with her, is what I don't understand. She thought Natalia was trash."
Francis' phone ringing broke Red's reverie, for the moment.
"Red, do you have a copy of that list from Anne's room?" Francis asked.
"It's in the bedroom, on the dresser." Red gestured.
Francis pushed out of his chair, leaving the sitting room.
"Should I call Ressler to pick this Natalia up?" Liz whispered.
Red shook his head, negatively. "Not yet. She's up to something, and I'd like to know what." he explained. "Don't worry though, Silas is putting a team on her, so we'll be tracking her movements."
The man's jaw pulsed with his aggravation. Red closed his eyes, scratching at his neck, which Liz had come to learn, was as close as Red came to having a nervous tick.
"It's not your fault." she muttered softly.
"It is." Red disagreed. "If I hadn't–"
"She drugged you Red." the woman interrupted, checking on Francis' whereabouts, finding him still on the phone. "Don't take this the wrong way, but considering who you are, you didn't have to go easy and just get Natalia jail time."
Red lifted his eyes, staring through her. The woman winced, knowing she should have found a way to word that differently.
"Dammit, Red. You know I didn't mean anything by that." she hissed. "I just meant, by rights–"
"My kind would have killed her." Red gritted. He had wondered if Elizabeth would ever see him as anything but her CI... but it was moments like this, that clarified that thought with a resounding... no.
Liz arose, sensing the man's mood. He stood, swirling the amber liquor in the glass, his thoughts and focus completely on his actions.
She placed her hand over the top of the glass, fingering his chin gently, demanding his attention.
"That was a rotten thing she did, dangerous..." it was stressed. "Even being who I am, I would have been hard pressed not to kill her." she continued. "You didn't, where so many others would have."
Francis came out of the bedroom, stilling in his steps, feeling the tension in the room. More specifically, the stand off beside the bar. He eyed the two combatants warily.
"What did Mark want?" Red asked, holding the woman's gaze dispassionately.
"He uh..." Francis tried to ignore the strain exhibited by both parties, "got a request from someone who supposedly had worked with Anne, Mark wanted to confirm if they were legit." he looked between the couple, scowling. "What the hell is wrong with you two?"
Red broke his gaze, looking over to the young man. "Nothing."
He pushed off the bar, grabbing his phone and wallet. "We have business to attend to."
He left with no further word.
It took Francis and Dembe several drinks and calm, rational reasoning to get Red in a better mood.
Francis' idea of rational reasoning, having heard the reason behind the man's sour mood was to rationalize... "Well Red, you do kill people. Let's all be honest here."
Dembe cut the man a severe chastising glance, putting it much better. "You mistook her intentions, Raymond. Perhaps what she was saying was that she admired the fact that you are attempting to react differently to situations than you have in the past."
Red could accept that and he secretly wondered if he was really upset with Elizabeth or the fact that he was the cause of what Natalia had done.
After dinner that night, Red found himself relaxing a little bit. Francis and Mark were relating different versions of their misadventures over the years, each poking fun at the other.
Some of the tension that was blanketing him and Lizzy abated with the good humor and jovial atmosphere. A time or two when their eyes met, she seemed to sober a bit, her smile losing some of it's brightness.
She was still upset by what happened earlier.
He wondered if she was upset with herself for what she had said or his reaction to it?
She excused herself at one point. Red watched her trek across the hotel dining area, his scowl transferring to the large guard beside him.
"She's being followed." Silas assured, his own eyes trailing the guard he'd placed on the woman. "You haven't apologized?" he assumed.
"I don't think he should." Francis said.
"When's the last time you had a serious girlfriend?" Silas quipped. "Hell, when's the last time you got laid?"
Francis pulled an endearing 'denial' face. "And when have you?"
"This morning." Silas' face was perfectly composed.
"Oh..." Francis' face fell.
Mark snickered into his glass for the exchange.
"Now, go see that she's safe." Silas pointed to the two men sitting across from him.
"You have a guard on her." Francis screwed up his face, pointing the man out.
"Okay, you can't take a hint." Silas leaned into the table, eyeing them. "The adults are talking for a moment, get lost."
Red gestured for the two young men to give them a moment, turning his attention to the head guard, as the two men reluctantly scooted back from the table.
"What about Dembe?" Francis squawked.
"Dembe..." Silas gritted his request.
The man followed suit, smiling at Silas' vexation, leaving not because he had to... but because he respected the need for privacy.
When they were finally alone, Silas glanced over at his boss, his friend, sighing heavily.
"Are you pissed because of what she said or because you feel like it's a step back?"
"Isn't it?" Red replied curtly. He hadn't meant to answer that quickly, nor that honestly.
"No, because unlike before, she tried to correct her error." Silas clarified. "She hadn't meant for the words to be taken as an insult, but that she noticed a change in you..." the man shifted his weight comfortably, "that you reacted differently than your reputation would suggest."
Red's brow knitted, remembering Dembe had said something similar.
"She doesn't just see you as her CI anymore." Silas continued. "Do you really not see it?"
The large guard's head dropped meaningfully to one side as he realized that the other man actually did not see the reality.
"Besides the two of you sleeping in the same bed, being more hands on and–"
"It's for work." Red countered.
"Don't give me that shit." Silas scoffed. "You two do not have to sleep in the same damn bed for work." the man tossed his napkin on the table, leaning on his elbows. "Since when has she valued your opinion at work, let alone when hunting for her own home?" Silas scoffed. "Stop bullshitting me and quite frankly, yourself."
Red sat back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest, his expression benign.
"I know about your little aborted kiss as well." Silas knowingly admitted. "Was that for work too... because I didn't see anyone around to impress."
"If we go to Mark's we have to keep up certain appearances–"
"You've gone this long without sucking face." Silas pointed out.
"She's hung up on Tom."
"No she isn't." Silas disgusted. "Her reaction to that damn dream was proof enough of that."
"She's confused."
"And Liz's reaction to Lexa?"
"What the hell?" Red scowled. "After you and Dembe are done gossiping, do you paint each others nails before or after the pillow fight?"
Silas shook his head, irritated at Red's diversion. "I've never known you to be afraid of anything, Red."
Red's eyes connected with the guards, the heavy silence saying enough.
"She's giving you signals, hints that she's interested, and you aren't seeing them," the man told the truth, "because you're too afraid of her rejection."
The stocky man pushed back his seat, standing. "That is not the Red Reddington I know." Silas stated bluntly.
"You need to get your head straight, both of them." Silas strongly suggested. "Either grow a set and make your move, or get on with it and go fuck someone else." the handsome face hardened slightly. "You're turning out to be a real bastard..."
"I apologize for upsetting your sensitive nature."
Silas leaned into his fists, resting them on the table, glowering at the man across from him. "You told me to protect her. That's what I'm doing." he reminded. "And since you didn't specify, I'm assuming that it was to shield her from all harm." the man's tone had hardened as well.
"You're being a major dick. Stop speaking in fucking riddles and be straight with her for fucking once."
Silas took a few steps, then hesitated, looking back at Red. "I know which path you're going to pick... do you?"
Red could not truthfully answer that questions at this point and he secretly wondered how Silas could possibly do so.
About an hour later an orchestra arrived and couples filtered slowly to the dance floor.
Red's expression spoke volumes as he sipped his drink, his eyes following the path of his friend.
"What?" Liz turned in her seat, watching the muscular man approach a lady a couple of tables away. Dembe leaned into the woman's sphere, his smile almost lighting the room.
"Well now. That is unexpected." there was total approval in Red's tone and manner.
"I'd say." Liz pouted. "What about Hannah?"
"Lizzy, he's only asking the woman to dance, not mother his children." Red pointed out.
"Who is she?" Liz was more than curious.
"I believe her name is Sarah," Red tilted his head slightly, as the two made their way to the dimly lit dance floor, "she's Rebecca's right hand woman."
"Like Dembe is to you?" Liz was surprised.
"You sound shocked."
"I guess I just think of yours as being a mans' world." Liz realized how sexist that sounded, once said. "I'm not sure why, I've met Madeline. And then there's always Mr. Kaplan."
"You'd be surprised who's lurking behind the scenes." Red smiled secretively.
"Do they have a history?" she stuck to safer subjects.
"Not so much a history, more like two ships passing in the night." Red saw no harm in confiding as much. "They're always exchanging glances with one another but never had the time to get it together. I'm surprised he got the balls to finally approach her."
"So you're saying Hannah should be worried." Liz stared at the handsome couple, dancing closely.
"I wasn't under the impression that Hannah and Dembe were serious."
"I guess they aren't. She just really seems to like him," Liz felt rather disappointed at the moment, "And I like Hannah." She mumbled.
"Stay out of it, Lizzy." Red advised. "Perhaps all they really want out of the relationship is nothing more than sex."
"You think?" Liz tilted her head, wondering if it could be a possibility.
"Dembe, while being a good man, is mostly an absent one. Some women are fine with the constant travel, some aren't." Red could speak from experience. "I would imagine that Dembe would make sure of any problems that might arise before solidifying anything."
"I guess he would." Liz wondered what it felt like to have a 'friend with benefits'. She herself, had never had a one night stand.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Honestly?" She smiled wickedly.
"Of course."
"I was just thinking, I've never had casual sex. I wonder what it's like?" Instead of him spitting his drink across the table like she expected him to do, he turned serious eyes to her.
"It's empty and lonely. There's no affection." He replied evenly. "The sex feels great, sometimes. Afterwards, that's the let down. Someone inevitably leaves at the end of the night."
"But you've had a couple stay, haven't you? Madeline?" she openly fished.
"My partners and I took care of a biological imperative." he stirred his drink methodically.
"Partners?" Liz was intrigued and though she would only admit it to herself, maybe a little jealous.
Red pursed his lips, side glancing her before continuing, "We had a cat nap or two before the next round. But a whole night together... no."
Liz was stuck on his choice of words, next round. How many rounds could he do in a night?
"You're the first woman I've slept with since my wife." He confided. "If only due to the fact that you won't stab me in the back while I'm sleeping." he held a small smile. "Or at least, that is my impression up to this point."
Both fell silent.
He wondered if he had over shared. He looked at the world and relationships one way, she another.
Everyone had a past, some more than others. While parts of hers, he would rather forget, they still made her who she was. He wouldn't hold anything against her, ever. Nothing he learned about her was too much.
How she viewed his past, he wasn't sure.
"It's their loss." Liz finally spoke.
"Excuse me?"
"That they didn't ask you to stay. It's their loss."
"And why is that?" He smiled, waiting for the punch line.
"Because, when you're there I can sleep." She glanced out over the dance floor, sipping her wine. "I've never felt so safe."
Red stared at her, slightly shell shocked. It was the last thing he had expected to hear.
The silence returned, but this time it was not uncomfortable.
Red pushed his drink aside, standing, his decision cast.
He held out his hand. "Would you care to dance?"
"I can't do much with the boot." She distastefully waved at the bulky thing.
"We can sway." He took her hand, leading her to the floor. "It'll be just like prom."
She giggled her response.
He pulled her into him while she wrapped her arms around his neck. Slowly they began swaying.
"Yep, just like prom." She laughed at the silly picture they must paint, being surrounded by people dancing correctly.
"No, you can't see the moon between us." Red quipped.
"I hated when the chaperones said that." Seemed stupid rules applied everywhere.
She remembered back, dancing with Chad Krakow and a chaperone had split them up, saying almost the same exact phrasing.
"Like people weren't having sex later on that night." she smiled gently with the remembrance, a thought suddenly occurring to her. "Wait. You went to prom?"
"I keep shocking you, why is that?" he questioned lightly.
"It doesn't seem like your thing."
"I wasn't always the Concierge of Crime, you know." he shrugged slightly. "And you're right, it wasn't."
"Then why did you go?" she enquired. "Did you have a date?"
Red looked at her, his expression saying it all.
"Of course I had a date. She was Prom Queen!" Red stressed, the importance of such a roll. "She had to go." rolling his eyes dramatically. "I just wanted to fuck down by the lake... I was such a romantic back then."
She giggled, "Were you already dating her?"
"Yes, terrible woman that she was." he sighed bleakly.
"Red..." Liz chuckled.
"Not that I was much better." He granted philosophically. "We both drank, heavily. It was toxic."
"Then why did you two date?" she was stumped.
"She was dramatic, bitchy and had an evil streak wider than mine. It certainly wasn't boring." he looked off into the distance. "I detested being idle, she kept me busy."
His mood changed, becoming darker. And as much as she was dying to delve more into who Red was and where he came from, she sensed, now wasn't the time.
"Did you wear a powder blue tux?"
"Never!" He grimaced disgustedly. "I was debonair, even back then."
"And modest... I bet you were quite handsome." she eyed him speculatively. "What I would do for a picture of the high school you." She shook her head, the tendrils around her face swaying hypnotically. "Please tell me you had long hippie hair and followed the Grateful Dead."
Red laughed at the thought, "Unfortunately, no. I believe that my father would have actually made an appearance had I done that." Liz frowned, wondering what that meant, but he continued speaking. "I was one hundred percent Preppy asshole."
"So, not much has changed?" Liz surmised, her lips quivering in amusement.
"Oh, believe me. I was a darling compared to when I went into the Navy." the man thought back on those times. "That's when I became the huge asshole you know today."
"Why do you say that?" She asked, intrigued.
"Besides having joined up only to piss my father off. I went in with a chip on my shoulder." he wasn't proud of that time. "I pushed boundaries and got away with it since I was good at what they threw at me. I enjoyed the challenge and wanted more." he guided her gently back and forth. "I wasn't above pushing buttons of those around me to achieve my goals."
"Why did it piss your father off, you joining the Navy?"
"He wanted me to go into the Army, follow in his footsteps." he shared. "I had wanted to be a Marine, but my love of the sea won out, so I joined the Navy."
"I didn't know that..." She said.
"Not much of who I was before I disappeared makes for good reading material," he conceded, "except that I was being groomed for Admiral, a rising star at the Pentagon." He mimicked the reporters perfectly. "It adds dramatic flair when speaking of me on CNN."
He looked down at her, his expression more than serious. "They are so fair and unbiased, you know."
"Were you, after working so hard, disappointed when you didn't reach the goal of Admiral?" she ignored his quip.
"Contrary to popular belief, I didn't want to be Admiral."
"You didn't?" she was mildly shocked.
"No. While the paycheck and prestige, stature, would have been a feather in my cap. Being an Admiral would have put me behind a desk." his head lifted proudly, almost defiantly. "I wanted to be a SEAL."
"How did you end up being set for the promotion then?"
"Because I moved up the ranks so quickly, that's where everyone thought I was headed. And maybe I was." he shook his head once slightly, almost jeeringly. "All I thought at the time was with rank, comes privilege and I wanted my choice of assignments." he licked his lips thoughtfully. "Who knew it would lead me here."
"How–"
"Raymond." Dembe interrupted, quietly. "Mark needs to speak with you, he asked that I see if you are available."
"I'm busy." He gestured to the woman in his arms. "We're waiting for the last dance call."
Dembe was slightly lost.
Liz slapped his shoulder lightly. "No we aren't." She pulled back with a smile. "Go ahead, I don't mind."
But Red tightened his hold on her waist.
"Go on or he'll just come looking for you." she predicted. "Duty calls, Sailor..."
God, he hadn't been called that in a long time and found he almost missed it.
Red sighed, "Tell him I'll be right there." Liz took his arm as he led her back to their table. "I'll be back as soon as possible."
"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere." she pointed to Francis who was sauntering toward their table.
The man nodded, both to the arrival of his friend as Francis seated himself by Elizabeth and the woman, indicating his farewell.