May 18
The following day brought more than a few surprises.
They took a drive to a private residence where some of the pre-wedding festivities would be hosted within the sprawling estate, according to Red. The owner was a friend of the groom's, having offered up the expansive venue as a wedding gift.
As Red escorted Liz through the gorgeous gardens, she tried hard not to gawk at her surroundings.
The landscaping was lush and green, keeping in mind, they were in the middle of a desert. The surrounding acreage was peaceful and tranquil.
Liz inhaled deeply, relishing the sweet scent of foliage from desert cacti to the most delicate flowers imaginable.
Crossing a bridge which traversed a waterfall and babbling brook, she attempted to control her smile of growing excitement. A gigantic swimming pool wrapped around the majority of the entire house. It was the most amazing sight the woman had yet to see in Vegas. Such luxury stunned her senses.
The grounds were littered with tents and tables, waiters mingled with the large crowd of guests, carrying huge trays of delectable delicacies.
Fancy food stations lined the entire west wall of the massive structure.
It was quite a set up. The rolling hills were a gorgeous back drop for guests with every type of food one could possibly want, right at your fingertips. It all smelled so heavenly, Liz found her appetite returning with a vengeance.
The large open tents held arcade style games enticing the more adventuresome. Games of horseshoes, croquet and lawn bowling were intermixed throughout.
If it wasn't for the women in light airy dresses, obviously of designer origins, Liz would have thought she was at a country fair. Men in summer suits, most of them having discarded their jackets of course, dotted the landscape for as far as the eye could see. Many guests also frolicked in the pool.
"I'm starving." Francis sniffed at the air, focusing in on a tent offering Gyro's.
"You just ate." Red was astonished, his expression saying as much. He checked with Elizabeth to confirm his hypothesis that there was something definitely wrong with Francis, finding her too, eagerly checking out the passing food trays.
He chuckled, his opinion on the matter altering somewhat. Settling his hand on her back, he ushered her over to a nearby delicacy, ordering up one for her... and himself.
The smell had been too damn enticing after all.
"It's all this fresh mountain air." Red concluded.
Francis pushed his way through the couple before Red could order, holding up two fingers, signifying a 'double' order of the fare offered.
"Well, look who we have stumbled upon." Red had ignored the young man's rudeness, as was his way, having nodded in the direction needed.
Elizabeth sank her teeth into a scrumptious bite, obediently following his field of vision.
Dembe sat, looking really cool in a grey suit and sunglasses, at one of the nearby tables sat up for any weary guest. In his right hand, he sipped a cup of coffee, his left held aloft a copy of a J.D Salinger novel. A half eaten breakfast sandwich lay waiting on an expensive plate.
As they approached, Liz struggled to manage her own plate and heavy purse which she insisted upon bringing. "Haven't these people ever heard of paper plates? I'm afraid I'm going to break this thing."
Red laughed around his next bite of food. Stopping in his tracks slowly, having really focused on the black man who had stood with Elizabeth's approach, he scrutinized Dembe's demeanor and appearance for some few seconds without saying a word.
If the large man was uncomfortable, one would never have guessed from his manner.
"Good morning, Elizabeth... Raymond." his accent always lent a charm to any moment. "And others." the dark eyes twinkled as Dembe noted the late arrival of Francis Holbrook. "You are looking radiant today." he returned his attention to the woman. "As usual."
"Well, thank you, Dembe." Francis managed around a mouthful of food.
"He meant me." Red quipped, handing over a napkin to his young friend.
Liz chuckled softly for Red's good mood. "Thank you, Dembe." she cast Red an annoyed look. "You're the only one to notice my new dress."
"I've noticed other things." Red's eyes swept her figure appreciatively. "Dembe, you are looking somewhat radiant yourself." he returned to his previous thoughts.
"I have passed a very relaxed morning." was Dembe's response.
Elizabeth sensed something pass between each man. "What are you guys up to? What did I miss?" she allowed Red to assist her with her seat, sitting the fragile looking china down ever so carefully. "Something's up."
"Well," Red lifted knowledgeable eyes to a placid Dembe, "not any longer."
Francis guffawed, slapping the large man on the back. Dembe shifted a cool stare but allowed the unheard of action good- naturedly for once.
Liz was getting antsy, unaccustomed to being excluded from the moment.
"He got laid, twit." Francis artfully supplied the missing piece of the equation, his plate tinkling dangerously as he practically flung it on the unforgiving surface of the table.
Elizabeth gasped her shock, watching Dembe saunter across the wide space to refill his coffee cup. "Oh, my..."
Dembe was an attractive man. Why it surprised her that he might be interested in such things, she could not have said at the moment.
Dembe was Dembe, an extension of Red Reddington. He was an enigma. Silent, seemingly brooding, but she knew how infectious his laugh could be, how quick the dark eyes could find amusement with the slightest provocation.
Liz was suddenly so pleased. "Oh, I'm so glad." that Dembe had found a little happiness in life.
"So is he." Red grinned around the coffee cup Dembe had brought him.
"You are speaking of me, I presume?" the man found his seat, his expression benign.
"We were telling her you got laid." Francis hurried over the faux pas, ignoring Dembe's annoyed glance. "Hey, we all got lucky in Vegas. It's my kind of town."
"That's Chicago... according to Sinatra." Red hummed the tune to Liz's amazement, his tone very pleasing to the ear.
Dembe cast a scolding glance around the table.
"It's okay Dembe," Liz defended her friend, "they're just being crude." She threw Red a questioning glare for his cavalier behavior.
"I can just tell, Lizzy." Red defended his stance, still attempting to annoy Dembe somewhat. "It's in how he walks, the set of those broad shoulders..." he motioned accordingly, his eyes twinkling mischievously, "I can smell her perfume."
"I bathed." Dembe took offense with Elizabeth's presence, his tone censored.
"I lied about that one." Red granted.
Elizabeth could not be anything but content. Red seemed totally relaxed today. He would sometimes tease Dembe, more so than any other of his friends, but Liz was beginning to know it meant, his mood was light and carefree.
"What the hell are you?" she grunted around her Gyro, turning on the man anyway though. "You have the ears of a bat, the nose of a blood hound... super human powers, huh?" she questioned. "Let me guess, you can see through my dress."
Red stared over at the woman's torso, making her fidget under his intense scrutiny. "You're wearing..." he mused thoughtfully, "a matching pink bra and panty set, trimmed in white lace."
"Ohh." Francis cackled his delight for the woman's mouth had fallen agape once again, her astonishment complete.
Red discreetly placed a hand over his mouth, to hide his smile, for the woman had automatically looked down at herself, as if checking his facts before lifting shock filled eyes.
"I most certainly am not." she lied.
"Hey Red," Francis wasn't buying it, "be honest with me, she's a natural blonde." He took a sip of his wine. "Am I right?" his own eyes were gentle with good natured teasing.
"That is a question, son..." Red playfully warned the man, "to which you will never have the answer."
"Not if you live to be four thousand, which you won't." Liz snapped. "Because I'm going to kill your ass." her fists clenched, her temper flaring but she lost the mood as quickly as it had arisen. "If there weren't so many damned witnesses about."
Dembe laid a gentle hand over the woman's small fists. "You are picking up on the ways of our world."
Red's chuckle felt good as it washed over the object of his affection.
Liz settled instantly. "Francis, stop being such an asshole... as difficult as that may be for you." She suggested strongly, swiping her hand out, smacking him across his arm, directly over his 'flesh wound'.
"Oww..." Francis rubbed the wound. "No offense meant, just curious by nature... and that hurt."
"Good." the woman sat back, satisfied for a moment but something was still irritating her. She cast Red an annoyed look.
"I didn't say it." Red reminded, knowing the 'look' well.
"She's still wondering how you knew the answer to her probing enquiry." Francis sensed, leaning in as if to confide in Liz alone. "You didn't think maybe, he saw you getting dressed this morning? A guy notices such things." he drawled.
"I knew that." she half-heartedly defended herself.
Francis wasn't buying that one either.
"You are charmingly naïve concerning a few subjects." Red corrected. "A fact I personally, find very..." his eyes deepened considerably, "endearing."
"Good save." Francis approved, returning to his food with a relish, the matter ended to his way of thinking.
"I saw your lingerie laid out this morning." Red ended the woman's torment, holding his smile admirably.
"I knew that." Liz pulled an endearing face, dismissing the man in the next instance, her attention taken by all the activity about her. "...What's going on over there?" she craned her neck as a crowd was developing across the way.
Red adjusted himself in his seat, even as the rest for a better look.
Large targets were being set up down the long stretch of lawn at the far end of the green expanse. Several men were looking over the laid out equipment, testing the weight and balance of the compound bows.
"Archery?" Liz was fascinated by the diversity exhibited.
A large umbrella shielded the group from a mild early sun as they watched the proceedings.
"It's my understanding this was how the bride and groom met." Red offered a lackadaisical explanation.
"But any form of rivalry is welcomed." Dembe explained the deeper meaning behind the gathering of such diverse individuals.
The minor competitions grew as the different personalities of those competing emerged.
"Hey," a thought occurred to Liz, "where's Lia?"
Francis reseated himself, having half arisen for a better look as a female took position at one of the first starting lines.
"She's wasting her time." he concluded.
"With you? Most assuredly." Red quipped.
"Not Lia..." Francis huffed, drawing a smile from Red. "Her." he pointed out to the woman archer.
"A chauvinistic viewpoint." Dembe pointed out.
"Nah," Francis reassured, "I've just seen her shoot, she's worse than me." it was dismissed. "Lia is with her girlfriends." Francis yawned, stretching out the kinks in his neck. "They're getting some last minute things for her friend's wedding. I'll pick her up shortly."
Liz tugged on Red's sleeve, leaning to share a confidential moment with him. "Were we supposed to bring a gift to this thing as well as the formal..."
"I have a gift." Red patted the outside of his jacket over the padded wallet within.
"Oh, Red." she chided. "Something personal."
"The larger the denomination, the more personal thought attached."
Liz sighed heavily.
"Today was just to give guests something to do that will keep them from killing one another in the interim." He delivered blandly.
"So they give them sharp objects?" Liz screwed up her face comically.
"We're a competitive lot." Francis beamed happily.
"Take these two for instance." Red gestured to the two present players, taking their place at the 'shoot' line. "John, the man in the blue shirt," he motioned accordingly, "lost his boat to Andrew in their last poker game. John is trying to win it back."
The man in question released the arrow, getting damn near to the center of the target.
"And he seems to be doing well in his endeavors." Red lifted impressed brows.
"Is this what you meant about personal grudges being fixed during these competitions?" Liz asked. "It all seems so..." She hesitated, searching for the correct term.
"I think the word you're looking for is, civilized." Red shrugged, checking with the new arrival on scene. "We're speaking about your place." he filled in for Mark Donovan, who sat in a empty seat, making himself comfortable.
"So... winner takes all, no hard feelings? No fighting?" Liz was skeptical, nodding her hello to Mark.
"Well... there was a scuffle a while back." Red shrugged, then looked at Mark. "When was this... I'm thinking last year." he checked with Mark, but the man was vague in his reply. His own memory faulty on the subject.
"Don't leave me hanging here." Liz leaned eagerly into the table, waiting for the story to unfold. "What happened?"
"This guy, Paul Wise, didn't know when to quit. Kept betting. His car, house, plane." Red settled into the story. "The other man, Bill Schaffer, tried backing out gracefully with each wager, allowing Paul to save face but he was a sore loser with a hot temper."
Mark nodded recalling the incident, finally.
"When Bill went to leave," Red continued, "Paul pushed for double or nothing." he shook his head disgustedly. "Bill, being tired of the game and Paul's poor attitude offered an unfortunate remark concerning Paul's not having much else to wager, except maybe his wife."
"Which intimated Paul would have no compulsion about making such a bet." the distaste was apparent in Mark's statement.
Liz's attention was rapt. "What happened!"
"Fists flew, poker chips went flying, as did my drink all over my hat." Red was still perturbed, that had been his favorite hat after all. "It took six of us to break them apart."
"You got in the middle of it?" Liz was somehow not surprised.
"It was either that or offer them a seat in my lap." Red waved to the object in question.
"You were a participant at the game?"
"No, a spectator." he mused. "But I had ring side seating, apparently."
"Was that the end of it?"
"Paul wouldn't back off..." Francis shrugged, sipping his drink. "So Dembe knocked him out cold... one punch." the young man demonstrated, by punching Dembe in the arm in open camaraderie.
Dembe shifted a menacing glance which stated succinctly, 'don't touch me'.
Liz gaped, sharing her new reverence for the individual. "Look at you..."
"Dembe's up." Red pointed out the fact. The man inclined his head regally, rising slowly. He made his way to the 'starting' point.
Francis and Mark arose from their own seats, eager to take in the spectacle.
"This should be fun," Red mentioned offhandedly, "he's never done it before."
"Have you?" Liz was curious.
"I enjoy archery." Red responded, his interest still with Dembe.
"Then why aren't you playing?" the woman asked.
"I wanted to relax today." Red chuckled because Dembe's arrow had gotten away from the man, hitting entirely outside the target.
Red held his amusement. Dembe's next attempt slowed mid-way down the course, falling into a drooping arch, sticking straight in the ground, a foot away from the target.
The large black man turned his frustration to Red, holding the bow out, arms wide, silently asking what the hell?
Red and Francis respectively gave the man a golf clap in open support. Mark on the other hand, gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. Dembe gave them a two finger salute in response... an obscene gesture he had picked up in Europe.
He loaded his next arrow, oblivious to the gentle laughter erupting throughout the gathered crowd.
Red could see the humor in the situation, as he fell back into his chair his shoulders shaking with mirth, "Speaking of sore losers."
Three arrows later, none of which hit their target, Dembe conceded defeat of sorts, rejoining them at the table. "There is something wrong with that bow."
"The user, perhaps?" Red quipped.
"Hey, we didn't see you up there." Liz defended Dembe.
"I can't win at everything, Lizzy." Red remarked, tongue-in-cheek. "It wouldn't be fair to the others."
"You're so full of shit Reddington." Liz rolled her eyes.
Red sat his glass down, standing. "I know doubt when I hear it." he proclaimed.
He walked up to Christopher, the man in charge of the event, gesturing meaningfully. He then confided something that had the other man laughing easily.
Red made his way through the spectators, receiving back slaps and gentle chides of camaraderie as he made his way back to the group.
"I'm up after these guys." he pointed to the men now shooting.
"This would be an ideal time to wager for something you really want, Red." Mark remarked innocently, not so subtly jerking his head in Liz's direction.
"You think I need to make a wager to get what I want?" Red questioned.
"He's so cocky." Francis stated to any and all.
"Never mind about my cock." Red snapped. "And what is it with you people wagering on every little thing under the heavens."
"I'll bet you." Liz sat up, ready to take him on.
Red looked at Liz, his face expressionless. Dembe discreetly lowered his own head.
There was a part of the man that wanted to make that bet. But what he wanted most in the world from her, he wouldn't make a wager on. It was far too personal a subject for such frivolity.
"Well, what'll it be?" Liz leaned forward, her hand held out, ready to shake on it.
Red looked at the hand, his eyes softening considerably.
Christopher whistled sharply, catching Red's attention, the moment broken. It was his turn to shoot.
Red gripped her fingers, turning them in his large hand, placing a kiss on the soft skin.
He sat his fedora upon Lizzy's head. "Hold that."
Francis and Mark looked after the retreating man, nudging each other knowingly. Dembe only settled more into his chair, his face just as expressionless as Red's had been, when the 'bet' had been called into question.
"I think he was going to shoot for that ever elusive anal sex." Francis remarked pseudo seriously. "What say you, Dembe?"
Dembe smiled, then quietened. "He's been wanting a new boat."
Mark scoffed, drinking from his tumbler. "That was not the face of a man after a new boat."
"A new dock to park his dinghy, maybe." Francis cackled.
"You guys disgust me." Liz finally having found her voice.
"That man wanted to do something to you." Mark shrugged nonchalantly.
"But was too much a gentleman to wager on it." Francis had his own opinions. "Mark my words."
The young man had been ribbing her all morning. Having fun. And Mark had been playful too, having become more comfortable with her since their time together in DC. So this time she would let it slide.
But there had been a silent communication that transpired between Red and Dembe that she had not understood. Liz had learned some of their body language and eye contact since she'd been staying with them, so she was sure something had been said.
She wasn't going to 'rock the boat' today with any insecurities. But her curiosity was piqued.
Liz looked out after the man, watching Red choose a bow, then set his first arrow.
"Yes well," she replied, clearing her throat of the slight quivering she heard in her own voice, "it just meant he didn't think he'd win."
"Yeah, that's it." Francis commiserated. "You just remember, when he wins, you could have ended the day twisted up like a pretzel in a German..." the man appeared momentarily lost, "...pretzel factory?"
Mark and Dembe exchanged quizzical glances.
"An excellent metaphor, Francis." Mark championed. Dembe rubbed the middle of his forehead to ease the slight ache behind the area.
Taking his stance, Red drew back, aimed, took a deep breath, released it and the arrow along with it.
It flew through the air, shooting into the target. Just an inch from the center.
"You'll never hear the end of this..." Francis muttered, watching as the next attempt struck just to the right of the first arrow.
The following shot traveled in the same pattern, looping around the center of the target. Red drew back on his last arrow, hesitating. He took two deep breaths, exhaled, held his posture and let the arrow fly.
They watched it zing down the greens, thwacking loudly into the paper target... dead center.
Liz turned to the man, finding Red's eyes locked on her, his gaze unwavering. Even from this distance, she could see the heat contained within those amazing orbs, feeling her body respond accordingly.
Red finally broke the lock, his message conveyed, before turning his attention to Dembe. He waved the man over.
Liz glanced over at the men beside her. Their looks were superfluous.
"I don't know what he wants from you," Mark smiled, "but that look was enough to make me break into a sweat." the man waved himself with a napkin.
"This not knowing may very well kill me." Francis proclaimed loudly. He looked Liz over speculatively. "Hey, narrow it down for me." he poked at her arm relentlessly. "What have you done?"
Liz's swatted at him, but he side stepped the effort. "Stop it you little pervert."
Thankfully their attention was momentarily diverted.
Red stood just behind his friend, speaking to him...instructing. Dembe pulled the bow back, halting when Red touched his arm.
Red adjusted the aim then tapped Dembe's shoulder. Liz watched the dark man inhale then exhale like Red had done then he released the arrow. It cut the air, hitting just to the left of Red's centered one.
He smiled his pleasure, laying a hand on Dembe's shoulder before glancing to the small group, now all standing, surrounding the table he had only just left.
He waved the woman over.
Liz glanced about aimlessly, then pointed to herself. Red's grin widened and he waved again, this time more emphatically.
She held up her arm to remind him of her weakened muscle state and those compound bows were very difficult to shoot. Red nodded that he understood her hesitancy but motioned yet again, his expression more adamant.
"You've blown him, right?" Francis, on the other hand, had other priorities. "I can tick that off the list?"
"I'm gonna blow a hole in you if you don't be quiet." she hissed, then rolled her eyes when the men fell into each other's shoulder, laughing hysterically.
Liz offered a scathing glare before stomping across the way, self-consciously straightening her dress. She ignored the stifled chuckles behind her, turning her focus elsewhere. "...I don't know about this, Red." she approached, her expression a wary one. "I don't think I can pull back on that..."
"When have I not been here for you?" the man teased, guiding her into the sphere of his arms, lifting the bow into position. "Put your hand just here." It was directed.
Liz attempted to pull the heavily strung sting to little avail. Red's fingers curved a little above hers, easily accomplishing the feat. "Line up with your target."
Liz marveled for she knew what strength it was taking for the man to hold the stance, so she quickly obeyed.
"I'm there." She focused on the target center determinedly, well aware of the large crowd of onlookers judging her performance.
"Three count..." Red moved very much closer and she was wrapped in a heady scent of his cologne, the heat of his body doing all sorts of nice things to her system.
"Inhale." He dropped his eyes to her breasts, enjoying the visual. "...Exhale.." A small smile graced his lips as the lovely mounds moved hypnotically to his commands. "...Let go."
The raspy tone washed over her and she felt herself mechanically obeying, her eyes closing to the erotic sensations erupting involuntarily within her body.
The arrow shot down the green, puncturing the target just to the left of Dembe's shot.
"Good job." The praise delighted her, even more so than the spontaneous eruption of applause from those that had watched the display. Red smiled down at her, and her world fell into place.
She beamed him a special grin. "Just you wait until my arm gets stronger." She tried not to notice the knowing smiles of several faces in the crowd which returned her sweep of the arena. "Now, there will be something to bet on, Fella, trust me."
"There is only one thing I want from you at present." Red confided, his tone low and meaningful, as was the heated stare he offered. "I only bet on a sure thing...and I would never take you for granted."
Even in the warm spring air, Liz felt slightly chilled with the withdrawal of his arms. He handed the bow to Dembe who had waited patiently for another turn at bat, so to speak.
"Go get 'em, Slugger." Red smiled in open affection to the other man. "Stop embarrassing the group." he motioned slightly to Francis and Mark. "You'll never hear the end of it, otherwise."
Dembe seemed to accept his fate, stepping up to the marked out chalk line. "I can always turn the weapon around and accidentally shoot them in the ass."
Red chuckled appreciatively. "I like the way you think."
They returned to the table, Red's good mood still high, it was apparent.
"So, did you win?" Mark's eyes drifted down the course. "You're the only one, so far to hit dead center."
"So far." Red chided. "The day is young, besides, my shot won't be counted."
"That's not fair," Francis was incensed, "I bet on you."
Red sighed lightly. "When the hell did you have time?" he waved the issue aside. "It won't be counted, so go recoup your losses elsewhere." he lifted a graceful arm. "I hear they are racing cockroaches over by the chocolate fountain...I personally, like the one in the little yellow jacket."
"They are not." Francis was truly disappointed, it was clear. Liz held her smile of sympathy. "...Are they?" He lifted his head, second-guessing himself.
"Hope springs eternal." Mark laughed easily. "They wouldn't allow cockroaches at such an exclusive shin-dig, Francis." The man pooh-poohed such a notion. "They do, however...have a nude 'Miss Minus a Swimsuit' competition that starts," Mark consulted the expensive watch on his arm, "...in about twenty minutes."
"Holy shit!" Francis felt decidedly better. "I'm there!"
Liz sighed. "We know you are, Francis." She patted his arm consolingly.
"Remind me again, why we hang with this crowd?" Red flicked the brim of his hat which still sat jauntily on Liz's pretty head, tipping it back a fraction to plant a light kiss on the full mouth.
"Because no one else will hang with you." Mark answered for her. "A high-profile criminal would be just too conspicuous for this crowd." He swept the area, and Red could see his point.
In that small sweep alone, a crooked judge...two mobster associates, a questionable politician and a big-time swindler all smiled happily back at him.
"Besides, with that infamous temper of yours, one can never be quite certain if one will be alive at any given moment of association with you."
"I'm carrying right now." Red lifted his jacket meaningfully, enjoying the exchange in spite of himself but he managed to keep a straight face.
"I know you are." Mark's remark was said in much the same vein as Elizabeth's when she had remarked to Francis. "But then...who isn't."
Red let it go.
Francis returned to the food tent and Mark left to meet Amanda who had been seen milling around like a lost puppy. The crowd was growing and she was searching for her party in vain.
Elizabeth watched the reunion with a gentle smile. "I'm glad they seem to have worked out their problems."
"Love will find a way." Red smiled down at her.
"Well, not sure that is love." she made mention, returning his smile. "But, they seem happier now, thanks to you."
"What did I do?" he questioned.
"What you always do," she stated. "Make everything better."
The man held no recollection of the event in question. "I will take praise any place I can get it." he shrugged stocky shoulders. "Especially from such a lovely source."
She glanced at him askew. "Do you think you will always speak to me in that manner?" she teased.
"Well, the new wears off." he teased right back. "If you mean, will I always remember to be grateful for what God has granted me? I hope the hell so, Elizabeth." he turned serious for a beat. "But if I fail in that endeavor, you have Dembe or Silas kick the shit out of me. Knock some sense back into my addled brain."
"I'll hold you to that." she watched Dembe graciously hand over the equipment to the next competitor. "...Looks like you have some competition."
Red stepped closer. "Point him out." he deliberately misunderstood. "I'll kill the son-of-a-bitch on the spot."
Liz lifted a stare. "Dembe just shot a bull's eye." she explained her meaning.
Red spared the man a glance. "And after all I've done to him."
She grinned. "You're competitive, don't lie."
"About some things." His eyes told her more than he was saying.
"Must be killing you, not to be competing this year." She pushed the envelope.
"Not everything is about winning, Lizzy." he tilted his head, removing his hat, setting it on it's proper place. "You're hair is too lovely to hide...but it did look damned cute, sitting there atop those adorable little curls." He indicated his meaning.
"You must be thinking about the other end." She mused. "My hair is straight, for the most part."
"I'm always thinking about 'the other end'." She was summarily informed. "There is fun to be had." the crowd was getting rowdy, which is just how Red Reddington like things. "What are we standing here for? I'm mildly interested in that nude 'Miss Minus Swimming Suit' pageant which is about to begin, if my inner clock is still functioning properly."
"I have a feeling," Liz did, "that when it comes to 'nude' this or that...you will be functioning to perfection." She allowed herself to be maneuvered. They headed out into the sun, looking for adventure.
"Well, shit." Red's annoyed statement caught Liz's attention. They had been moving through the crowds, checking out the competitions here and there, meeting new people that enthralled the woman.
There had been world renowned authors, noted celebrities, even a few world leaders popped in from time to time.
Liz was dazzled by the intellect and variety of those who knew Red Reddington.
"What is it?" She was alerted by his tone that all was not well.
"I see Antonio Crocetti." Red turned to Dembe. "Tell them I will meet them in the Blue Room." He drew in a cleansing breath. "Duty fucking calls, baby." He searched about for Francis or Mark. "Can you spare me for a few minutes?"
"Is there a major proble..."
"I got it covered." He kissed the tip of her nose, grinning down at her.
"Red, would you tell me if there was anything really wrong?" She held on to his sleeve for he had found Francis and Lia in the crowd, having motioned them over.
"I don't keep things from you, Elizabeth, but this is just a minor glitch." He told the truth. "But it does have to be addressed. You take the rest of the day for shopping or whatever ...or enjoy the festivities." The atmosphere had changed in his opinion. "Although, if you ask me," he sighed lightly, "The 'A' list has vacated the premises and now..." He grinned affectionately, "the low-lives are filtering in. My type of people, granted but not necessarily yours."
"If you don't mind then." She bit her lip anxiously, not wanting to sound unappreciative. "I would love to hit a few of the casinos again." She confided in the man. "Red, that was the most exciting time of my life, that first night here."
"I'm sure you refer to the time in my bed, but playing the slots runs a close second, I take it." He sent her on her way. "There are slots here but like I said, the atmosphere is much more congenial at the actual casinos...tell Francis to amuse you."
"I can amuse myself." She frowned.
"You can show me that later tonight then." He replied sensually. "Prove your boast. Can I video it this time...for posterity's sake."
"You're a dirty old man." She was relatively certain but had flushed slightly for she remembered the first time she had allowed him to 'watch' that particular spectacle.
"And you love that about me, right?"
She turned, flouncing away. He watched her hook up with Francis and Lia before turning to the business at hand.
"Let's blow this joint." Francis had picked up on Red's subtle 'look' even from a hundred meters away. "I know a little hot dog vendor just waiting to load on the fixins. You women haven't lived until you've tasted these babies."
"Big spender." Lia giggled, hooking arms with Liz at her arrival. "Knows how to show a girl a good time."
"I showed you a good time last night." Francis grumbled. "Or at least, that's what you said."
"Oh, Apple Strudel, you know you did!" Lia's eyes went wide. "The Earth moved...twice!"
"Three times, but who's counting." Francis' good mood had returned. "I'm just hungry, My Little Dumpling...forgive me."
"Always." Lia transferred her arm to 'her man', laying her head on Francis' shoulder.
"We should find Amanda." Liz had been scanning uselessly. "If Red had to bail, Mark did too. She's probably searching for us."
An hour later found them scouring the shops at Caesar's Palace. Having found a resting respite, Liz glanced up from unloading all her treasures, for she had won big at the slots in this fine establishment, then headed out to spend all her ill-gotten gains as quickly as humanly possible.
Which is, she was given to understand by the other ladies in her group, the thing to do while in Vegas. If one held on to such bounty, it was bad Ju-Ju or something to that effect.
Liz, not wanting to go against tradition, had a literal ball finding new and inventive ways to blow her wad.
She loved Las Vegas! It was the only place she had ever encountered where she could do a sinfully wicked thing and not feel like she should go to Confession in the very next instant.
Never had she gone through so much money so quickly and felt so amazing for the fact.
She was flushed and beautiful when Red finally arrived on scene.
It was like the 'parting of the waves'...to see his people walk through an area. People literally moved aside and stared.
Women discretely stole looks at the handsome men as they passed. Men's faces beamed a welcoming 'hello'.
Red acknowledged each person who happened to catch his eye with either a smile or a slight tilt of his head.
The man had charisma that was for sure.
He pulled up short just feet away, his arms encompassing 'it all'.
"I see someone did well at the tables?" he made his way through the myriad of shopping bags, finally reaching his destination. He removed his hat, the object dangling in his fingers as he leaned to kiss her lips.
"I did." she beamed. "I even have money in the safe back at the Villa." she proudly announced as he sat down beside her. She slid over, turning towards him. "Are you going to sight see with us?"
Red chuckled at the thought. He hadn't gone sightseeing, in the traditional sense, in so very long. He actually could not remember the exact date or time. He was curious to see if he could mingle in with a crowd full of people from various walks of life any longer, and not be recognized.
"All right." he nodded. "But if I say, we have to go..." he muttered.
"I know." she smiled, before standing up. She understood his limitations.
The day turned out well, much to her surprise, and his. Seeing things through Lizzy's eyes put a whole new perspective on the mundane.
A couple of times Red noticed Liz tense when someone stared their way a little too long.
He would steer her interest to another shop, something having caught his own eye, but she had to wonder if he had felt their eyes as well.
"Relax, Lizzy." Red reassured, whispering softly in her ear after yet another individual, this one with short cropped hair, looking every bit the stereotypical cop on an everyday outing, kept repeatedly checking them out. "He wasn't looking at me."
"You..." she nodded minutely, "you saw him then?"
"Of course I saw him. And the other two back at the shop we just left."
"Do you think they're cops?" she whispered.
"I doubt it." he laughed quietly. "Lizzy, they were staring at your ass."
"Wha–" she was flabbergasted.
"They had no interest in me what-so-ever." he craned his own head about, openly checking out her ass. "You on the other hand..." He cupped said bottom, squeezing the orb gently. "Not that I can blame them." he traced the seam of her pants suggestively.
She shooed his hand aside. "I guess I'm a worry wart."
"Trust me Lizzy, I know when I'm in the crosshairs." he pulled a face. Yes, that was one thing Red Reddington knew.
She read the sincerity in his eyes. After twenty years on the run, he would definitely sense when he had a target on his back, of course.
After about twenty minutes and nine more shopping bags, Red suggested they grab a bite.
She and the girls opted for a quick change in the bathroom into some dresses that thankfully, went swimmingly with the sandals they were wearing. After a quick fluff to their hair and a little makeup fix, they were more than ready to dine at the fancy restaurant Red had chosen.
Near the end of another delicious meal, Red was interrupted yet again as Mark shared a text he had sent. Red's approval was immediately forthcoming.
"We're about to meet the owner of this fabulous establishment, thanks to Mark here." Red indicated with a sweep of his hand. "I'm certain we will be entertained in the highest of fashion so if there is anything on anyone's wish list, now is the time to speak up."
Liz thought back over the days activities. She knew Red was doing this all for her, since he didn't seem the type to walk around Las Vegas like a common tourist, but she was so very glad he was.
She loved how they blended in with everyone else and were like every other couple enjoying a little getaway.
Amid boisterous backslapping and introductions, yet another hotel big shot graciously offered any services available.
Today alone, she had pet dolphins and held a baby lion. Liz and the girls had even got to take their picture with a large cat and it's trainer. She was amused, looking up to see, the guys stood ever so watchful, their hands on their weapons.
She supposed they were nervous about attack after what happened to that famous trainer a few years back.
But the cat was a bigger version of Keres, if anyone asked her. Even going so far as to lay it's head in her lap, licking her thigh, much to Red's annoyance. That was his job after all, he proclaimed to any and all.
Silas said the animal was simply tasting the meat before committing to the buffet, but Liz thought, the cat just liked her.
They had hit everything from Louis Vuitton to M&M World. All of it had been ransacked by Red and company. He and Francis alone, almost cleaned out each store along the way. Luckily, the purchases were sent back to the Villa's in a chain of Uber drivers, or at least that was how Red put it.
But she and the girls weren't much better, aside from shopping at the luxury stores, they had taken every free thing tossed their way by the hotels, from sweatshirts to decks of cards.
An entire auditorium was made available to them to watch performers for Circus De Soleil have a dress rehearsal for a new show that hadn't even premiered yet.
They went with the guys up to the top of the Stratosphere so the macho fools could experience the thrill ride, though she and the girls hid their eyes, lest they see them fall to their deaths.
Liz, admittedly peeked the entire time if only to see Francis' face.
They fed the sharks behind the scenes at the Mandalay Aquarium. Their group went to the top of the Eiffel Tower alone.
Come to think of it, everything they did, they had done as a group, alone. Because of the guys having connections everywhere in the city, access was available to them where some others may not have such good fortune.
Through it all, Liz's favorite moments were the little things.
Taking a picture with Red in front of the iconic Las Vegas sign or at the Luxor. Kissing him with the Statue of Liberty or Eiffel Tower as their backdrop. Walking hand in hand through the entire day.
The evening ended at the Bellagio, watching the water show.
Liz leaned back into Red's support, her hands covering his which wrapped around her waist. The water shot high into the air before settling back down in a mist, as the lights dimmed and the crowds clapped their appreciation for another brilliant show.
"Have you had a good day?" Red asked quietly, having noticed the serene smile on her face.
"I've had a fabulous day." she beamed happily up at him. "Thank you for sharing it with me." she hugged him tightly as they walked to the waiting car, heading back to the Villa.
And so the clock struck twelve, Liz mused. Her Cinderella got to go home with the Prince, however. She glanced over to Red, thinking her thoughts aloud.
"A perfect ending to a perfect day." she mused quietly.
"It hasn't ended." he met her eyes. "Don't count me out just yet."