Author Note:
This is in no way political.
We hope you'll indulge us this remembrance of people lost to us. It is our small way to cherish their memory.
In Memory of:
Marine Pfc. D. Coleman
And to those we lost after their service:
Army Sp/4. J. Thompson
Army SSgt. M. Payne
We will never forget the impact you made...
MAY 25
Red and Lizzy spent half the flight home reassuring Francis that he had not been married in Vegas.
Regardless, Red was amused as Lizzy continuously prodded Francis, on the flight home for information... although to Red, it seemed more like the latest juicy gossip, concerning Francis' inexplicable 'break' with the cute little morsel the man had picked up along the way in Vegas.
Lia was absent at any rate and Elizabeth was perhaps understandably curious as to the circumstances surrounding the fact.
"Things happen." Francis was more than vague when pressed for details however.
Which was completely opposite of what Red knew of the man's usual methods of over sharing, which made him wonder, was the young man yanking Lizzy's chain?
"I love her, she's my whole reason for existing." Francis continued.
Red sighed heavily, settling deeper into his seat for the farce he was positive lay on the horizon, for some reason or another.
"What things?" Elizabeth had demanded. "Did you hurt her, is she all right? What have you done now!" it was exasperated.
"Of course Lia is all right." Francis took exception. "Why do you instantly assume it's something I did?" he demanded an answer. "I didn't do anything." he replied in earnest. "I love her. She's my whole reason for existing." he repeated emphatically.
"Me thinks he doth protest too much." Dembe stated in that deep, silky tone and even Red halted his drink mid-sip to acknowledge the impact of the Shakespearean quote from the dark man's lips.
"I don't even know what that means." Francis snapped. "Dembe, speak English for God's sake."
Red rubbed woefully at his eyes, before rolling them to an amused Dembe. The man popped a Sunchip, turning his attention back to the entertainment at hand.
"Do you even know what the hell happened between you and the girl?" Silas prompted the question on everyone's mind. "Do you know anything at all, for that matter?" he muttered, though loudly.
"Why does everyone assume that something happened?" Francis fell into an effective brooding mode, seeking solace at the far end of the plane. "You act as though I purposely set out to sabotage my love life." the crisp sound of a bottle opening cut the air, dulling the statement somewhat.
"As I said," the man stressed, flicking the bottle cap into the trash can across the way, pumping his fist when he scored, "I love her, she's my–"
"Whole reason for existing." all on board finished in unison.
Silas was given pause for thought, the statement or perhaps more... accusation, puzzling the man somewhat.
"Do you know what they hell he's rambling on about?" Red queried, seeing Francis was genuinely upset in this instance. Or perhaps not, as the one in questions sulky mood was suitably waylaid by a simple bowl of trail mix the in flight attendant was passing around.
"Does anyone," Silas quipped jovially, "...ever?" his eyes fell on the man in question, finding the boy digging into the food like a raccoon raiding a trash can. "Does he even know what the hell he's talking about."
"Should I comfort him?" Liz felt bad for all her badgering now, worriedly looking after her friend, frowning in discontent down at the bowl in his lap.
"Oh, I think," Red watched Francis' dour expression alter instantly to an enthusiastic smile as he pulled a couple M&M's from the bowl before eating the treasures with relish, "he'll pull through just fine, whatever the given circumstances."
Liz sighed heavily, plopping back in her seat, her own expression rather foreboding.
"Men!" she exclaimed rather disgustedly to Red's way of thinking.
"Am I included in that dire category?" he turned his attention where it was needed.
"You have evolved." Liz threw a caustic look Silas' way.
The large guards face took on an innocent air, which to Red's way of thinking was ludicrous in itself. Silas' innocence was lost many decades back.
The rest of the flight was finished in relatively good humor after Lizzy's own mood mellowed.
Upon their arrival, the mob of security, and he meant that in the literal sense, that greeted them rivaled what it had in Vegas.
And Red was more than fine with that.
Once they were in familiar surroundings, his sense of security returned. It was a more confined space, easier to secure.
Which, after having received a relatively reliable tip concerning Carver's location, made the difficult decision to fly back out the following morning leaving Lizzy in the very capable hands of Silas and Francis, an easier one.
He felt infinitely better knowing that Francis, while not privy to the real state of affairs, was there within arms reach of Lizzy and would protect her, which would allow Silas to do his job to it's fullest.
And the woman really enjoyed his visits, so that was an added bonus.
As for Liz, when Red wasn't there, she fell into a structured routine. She had returned to her profiles. In the interim, Silas had constructed a program of rigorous physical training. He infiltrated new defensive techniques and a certain street savvy awareness not present before.
Truth told, she gravitated towards any sort of activity to fill the time in between training and profiling.
Red had been gone a few days now. He called frequently, letting Liz know of his whereabouts and of his rising frustration always being one step behind Carver.
She had shared in his frustration, and it wasn't just because Red hadn't caught Carver.
She missed the man terribly.
Especially today. It was the beginning of a three day holiday for her.
Having worked yesterday, splitting her time between profiling and running background on yet another Blacklister for her team, Cooper had assured them all that work would be on hold until Tuesday. Meaning no calls, no working on profiles...
Just rest and relaxation for the next few days.
And Red wasn't here to share it with her.
She wouldn't begrudge the man attending to his business, or this Carver issue, but she did wish he were here to share in the downtime.
A bright spot was that Francis, and even Ben Gilchrist, were coming to celebrate Memorial Day weekend with her and were planning to take her to the Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Rally. It was an event she had never attended in the entire time she had lived in D.C.
The morning of the planned activity, Francis had called to say he was on his way, so she went out to wait in the front garden with Silas. A short time later, a low rumble of motorcycles filled the air.
The sound came closer then three cycles actually pulled up into the drive. The three riders slowly approached.
She threw Silas a questioning glance, but her guard didn't seem fazed by the third rider's presence.
The bikes rolled to a stop, the men removing their helmets.
She gasped her surprise, joyously rushing across the driveway as Red's face came into view.
Red kicked his stand, then eased the bike down before sliding off the seat.
"Hey, baby." he laughed quietly, opening his arms quickly to wrap the rapidly approaching woman up in a tight hug.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming home!" she hugged him right back, before pulling away to seek out the humor-laden eyes.
"I wasn't sure what time I would get here." he murmured softly, kissing her smiling lips gently.
"Why didn't you tell me!" she turned on Francis accusingly but her happiness shined through.
"I know you love surprises." he grinned. "Or... is that me?"
She chuckled, remembering they had lost a better part of an afternoon watching videos of soldiers returning home, surprising their loved ones.
They came up with a convenient excuse for the quiet sobbing which had arose. Nora was fixing lunch and Francis swore she must be chopping onions and that the essence was filling the room.
Liz went along with they fabrication, a little embarrassed herself by the powerful emotions the reunions had stirred.
Red squeezed around her waist, holding out the other hand to the large guard behind her. "Silas?"
The man grinned and pulled out her own helmet and jacket from thin air.
"Ohh! How cute!" she clasped her hands together excitedly at the stylish, though rather heavy jacket.
"Won't it be too hot?" She asked as Red helped her slide the small jacket on.
"No, these are for warmer weather. Plus, once we get going, the wind can be cool." He pulled her hair out from under the jacket. "And they have armor in them in case we have an accident."
Ben and Francis smiled as they watched Red pull her hair back.
"What are you doing?" She turned, only to be stopped when he placed his hand over her head, turning it back straight.
"I'm braiding your hair." he was already deeply invested in the task, a fixed scowl on the rugged face.
He expertly wove Lizzy's hair into a braid his daughter would have been proud of actually.
Jennifer had always got on to him about her crooked braids until she made him sit down and practice one day until he got it down pat. She had been four and a little bossy tyrant.
And he had done it without protest, just so he wouldn't get the "Daddy! It's lopsided again!" followed by a huff of aggravation.
Though he had secretly found it amusing.
"Would you do mine?" Silas held out a piece of pretty pink ribbon, Red had chosen for Elizabeth.
Francis frowned his annoyance. "Do your own." he pushed Silas' offering aside. "This isn't a slumber party."
"The way he and Dembe gossip, it may as well be." Red mumbled.
Silas' reply was interrupted by Dembe's arrival on scene. The nondescript SUV slid into it's usual parking space.
"Duty calls." Silas shoved the ribbon into Red's waiting hand, motioning to the other men who crossed the spacious driveway, headed for the vehicle.
The back hatch had been opened and Dembe was already unloading case after case of beer and soft drinks.
"Are we having guests?" Liz was sticking wayward strands of hair beneath a snug fitting helmet.
"So to speak." Red helped the woman mount the large, sleek Harley. "Don't touch that pipe, it's hot." he indicated.
Liz situated herself, marveling at the shiny chrome and cushy leather seat of the jet black bike she occupied.
Red had donned his own helmet, the dark tinted visor down. He looked every bit the sexy space hero.
"Can you hear me?"
Liz twirled her head this way and that as Red's sensual voice resonated deeply inside her helmet.
"Stereo!" she giggled.
His quiet chuckle surrounded her. "We're wired. You're coming through loud and clear."
"Can they..." she enquired of the other 'bikers'.
He shook his head. "I want you all to myself."
She smiled prettily for him, the words pleasing her. Red smartly fingered her visor down, sliding into the position in front of her.
The huge bike roared to life as the man hit the ignition button. Liz felt a powerful, thrumming vibration between her legs. Not an unpleasant sensation at all.
"This could prove interesting." she lifted stylish brows enjoying Red's throaty laugh which met her statement.
"That's my girl." he nodded slightly as they waited for their companions to join them. "Keep that thought uppermost in your mind, will you."
"I don't know how I couldn't." she philosophized. "This is the most expensive vibrator I've had the privilege of having between my thighs." she admitted freely, her reward, yet another rumbling chuckle.
"So far anyway..." Red murmured intimately, "the day is young." he said, acknowledging Silas with a lift of his hand as the passed the impressive figure.
The small pack headed out, Francis eager to take the lead. Red took his place just slightly behind the two men as they headed down the sloping driveway.
"Silas isn't going?"
"He likes to spend the day alone."
Liz fell silent, sensing an underlying cause but didn't want to pry unless Red further quantified the statement. Which he didn't. Liz let the subject go.
It seemed they were riding the streets at a rather leisurely pace to the woman, which was pleasant enough. Liz realized they must be allowing her time to get the feel of the bike.
"How you doing back there?"
"It's very comfortable." she automatically nodded a 'hello' as yet another bike rider passed. Red had not failed to acknowledge one when approaching, with a slight lift of his hand.
"Do we greet each guy on a bike?" she didn't want to be remiss in her manners. "I'm assuming that's the proper etiquette?"
"Just a friendly gesture..." the man concurred. "It's part of the code."
Liz narrowed her eyes. "What code?"
"How much time do you have?" she could hear the humor in his voice. "Hold on tight." it was warned. "I'm going to see what she can do."
Liz tightened her fingers into the fabric of his jacket, leaning closer.
They hit a stretch of road, the man shifting gears. The large engine responded instantly with a burst of speed.
The corresponding vibration rumbled deep into the frame, traveling instantly into the area between her legs.
She gasped at the strength of the powerful thrumming, trying to ignore the deep, raspy chuckle from the man.
"Enjoying yourself now?" he queried.
"Where are we going?" she snapped a little peevishly. He had done that on purpose. What's worse, he had guessed at her reaction.
"Are we there yet?" his teased, allowing the moment to pass. "We're going where ever good American should go." it was told. "Now relax and be a good little girl. I'll give you a gift at the end of the day, if you do."
She wondered at the present. "I was going to say the same of you, but if you don't behave... perhaps I'll change my mind."
She could not see Red's response which was a wide grin of appreciation for her wit.
"What a concept." he wondered aloud. "I'm usually generously rewarded for being a bad boy."
Liz clamped her lips tight, holding her reactionary giggle. She had to admit, she did crush a bit on Red's bad side, more than she probably should.
"With that being said, I could just 'take' that highly coveted gift," he reminded silkily, "if I really wanted."
The deep timbre in his voice and the insinuation, made Liz's stomach flip about wildly. She did enjoy when the man was a bit... demanding in his attention. But he didn't have to know that... right now at least.
"This isn't 50 Shades and you aren't Christian Grey... thank God." she rolled her eyes at the disagreeable thought.
"No, from what I'm to understand, I'm more..." he pondered the comparison, "like that guy in that movie you want me to watch. What was it again? The Administrative Assistant?" he grinned in wry amusement.
"It's Secretary." she huffed, then sighed lightly.
Red turned his head slightly as the woman edged forward, tightening her thighs about him.
"Now that Mr. Grey..." she purred her approval, "I could really get into."
"Like to be spanked, do we?"
"I don't know." she didn't. "Never tried it."
"Oh, Lizzy," the deep sigh ran along her spine, "your sexual education has been sorely lacking. I see we will have to remedy that fact."
"Soon, I hope?" she was feeling rather light and flirty today. It was a beautiful sun-filled day and getting out of the house was refreshing her spirits. And Red was back and all seemed right with the world.
"I could stop right now." he offered. "In fact, nothing would please me more than bending you over this bike in one way or other."
Liz smiled as Francis sped by.
"There are children present." she reminded but certainly wondered what it would feel like? Red's large palm stinging her toned bottom.
She had felt a fleeting glimpse of it in Vegas, but had been too distracted by mutual jealousies to concentrate fully on whether it had been intensely pleasurable or not.
Red chuckled again. "I have a long memory, it will keep. But I won't, I give you fair warning."
Liz warmed to such a promise... and the playfulness, the experimentation she found within Red. "You're getting too big for your britches."
"The more you talk about spanking your perfect little ass," the man adjusted himself in his tightened jeans, "...yes, you are correct in that assumption."
Liz's cheeks brightened in pleasure, admittedly loving the affect she had on the man.
"Speaking of britches," his thoughts turned to other interesting matters, "are you wearing any?"
"You sound like Silas." she grumbled, shifting more comfortably into Red's body.
"Since when does Silas make enquiries concerning your panties or lack thereof?" Red's pitch altered slightly much to her delight.
"Are you jealous?" she teased, the thought thrilling the woman.
"I can trust, Silas." it was his turn to grumble. "It's you I have reservations about." the banter turned wry. "He is a thing of beauty after all."
"He is that, he tells me as much, constantly." Liz laughed musically. "As for your reservations, I wouldn't want you to get too sure of yourself where I am concerned." she baited.
"I wouldn't worry too much about that." his manner had turned introspective. "You always keep me on guard..." he murmured quietly.
The softly stated declaration actually pleased Liz to no end, in fact, it excited her to the very core. To think, after the likes of Madeline Pratt and Dr. Lauren Kimberly, that she alone held Red's interest was quite a commendation.
Softly clearing her throat, she looked about, having lost track of their whereabouts.
"Seriously, Red, where are we going?" she had enjoyed the ride through the stately streets for some few moments now.
As they drove the quiet area of the older section of D.C., misshapen beams of light shined through the grand oak and maples lining the road. The hazy glow left her feeling warm and peaceful inside. A feeling she was experiencing more of late, especially when in a certain person's company.
"Right now?" he shot down the on ramp of the Interstate. "The Freeway."
Liz, having not anticipated their trek, tightened her hold considerably about Red's frame as the bike easily picked up speed. The powerful machine held it's own with the fast moving cars and trucks. If anything, it overtook them.
"Relax." Red soothed having felt her tension as a semi whizzed by.
She tried to relax but the concrete below flashed by at dizzying speeds.
"You're as safe as a babe in arms..." he kept his voice even and calm in hopes of easing her nervousness.
She recalled how Red had been with baby Sam and instantly felt better.
"Lean into me." the velvety timbre helped further calm her nerves. "It's not far."
She took him at his word and soon, having put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, the anxiousness subsided.
Soon all she could feel was the return of the tingling vibration between her legs and the alluring scent of Red's cologne. She nuzzled into the pleasurable diversion, her muscles loosening by degrees.
"That's my baby..." the man smiled warmly as her little body conformed to his. Her soft breasts pushed into his back as her shapely thighs cradled him. He sighed his contentment as the heat of her pussy moved snuggly into his backside.
After a few seconds of listening to her evened breathing, he tapped her knee.
"Look at Francis." Red's voice held a slight hint of pride.
Liz lifted her head, instantly grimacing her dismay.
The young man was weaving in and out of traffic as smoothly as a skater maneuvering slick ice.
"Red, he's gonna kill himself!"
"I think God has reserved that privilege to me." he chuckled. "No, he's really quite good. He races the strips sometimes."
Liz was constantly amazed at the layered depths to Francis Holbrook. "Drag strips?"
"Yep, watch Ben." she could hear the amusement in the man's voice. "He's constantly trying to best Francis."
"They're going to race?" Liz was mortified. "Out here?"
"Those bikes will leave everything else behind." Red informed. He beeped his horn as Ben Gilchrist had come alongside Francis, bikes abreast of one another.
"Red, stop them!" she protested, but the riders were off.
But it was over before it began really. Francis had a clear shot and took it, leaving Gilchrist in the dust.
Liz could barely make out the tiny dots in the distance but Francis had lifted an arm in the universal sign of 'victory', so she assumed him the winner.
"I am so going to give him a piece of my mind!" Liz was sure of the fact. "What are you men thinking!"
"I'm thinking," Red closed the space between the other riders easily having gunned the cycle now for the last few miles, "...he cheated."
"He did not!" Liz automatically championed her friend, disregarding her earlier ire. Her face broke into a grin as she saw Francis' joyous expression.
The young man had lifted his visor, chatting amiably with his competitor over the seventy mile an hour wind rushing past them. Until the man started hacking and spitting on the blurred road beneath him.
Ben wove dangerously for a second before regaining control as he laughed hysterically at his friends predicament.
Red laughed heartily, shaking his head.
"What? What happened?" Liz looked at her fast approaching friend.
"Francis' wide open trap just acted as a bug screen." Red's gravely cackle amused her, she didn't think she had ever heard such a laugh from him before.
"Eww." she crinkled her nose. "You are such a child!" she yelled as they sped past the men.
"Baby, he can't hear you." Red took the next off ramp and the men followed suit.
"But they can hear each other out there!" she squeaked.
"Your visor is down." he shook his head to clear his ear drums. "Please remember to put it up next to should you wish to berate someone... save my hearing, humm."
"Oh!" her fingers came to her mouth, over the visor, reaffirming that it was indeed down, "I'm sorry..." she winced in sympathy.
He chuckled, "You were in the moment."
He brought the bike to a stop at the red light, waiting for the other men to come alongside them.
"Are you missing it already?" he asked lightly.
Liz was momentarily lost until the man rumbled the engine for her benefit.
"Don't knock it." she advised. "It may get you laid."
Red hands immediately lifted.
"Conceding defeat already?" Ben Gilchrist seemed to take delight in the concept.
Liz glanced over to the man, wondering how he had even been aware of their discussion.
Red flipped his visor, turning towards the man. "I never concede defeat but I've found," he corrected the misconception, "where a woman is concerned, it's often better to picks one's battles if you intend to win the war."
"War?" Liz questioned his vernacular.
"The eternal battle between the sexes, sweetheart." the older man soothed any frayed nerves. "I speak only in generic terms, you understand."
Liz thought he handled the situation well, considering.
"Uh humm." was her only reply, however.
"Yea, let's talk about something more important." Francis was getting bored, obviously. "Did you see me out there?" he looked back to the Freeway. "Was I amazing or what? Loser." he goaded Ben gleefully. "Winner." his thumbs turned inward to his chest area. "Loser..." he pointed at Ben yet again.
"We get it." Ben was a good loser in this instance. "There's always next time." he grumbled his defeat.
"Bring it on... loser." Francis cackled evilly.
Red smiled and Liz knew he approved of Francis' gloating.
"Did you see me, Lizzy?" the man preened.
"Yeah, I saw you play Venus Fly Trap to a defenseless bug." she grimaced, taking the man down a notch, even as she heard Red snort in her ear.
"Speaking of which, you got any gum?" the man suddenly remembered his earlier unexpected snack. "He tasted nasty!"
Red slapped his visor down, hiding his laughter from their companions but not Lizzy, as the light changed, thankfully allowing them to move on.
The next few blocks were traveled in congenial and welcomed silence.
Red followed the other two men into a designated parking area, as each chose a slot, coming to a stop.
Francis and Ben were already disposing of their gear before Red slid off the bike, discarding his helmet before assisting the woman.
"Was it too hot for you, Lizzy?" he teased as her pink face came into view.
"I'll let you know if I reach that point." she chose to ignore his insinuation that the vibration he caused with the bike had turned her on.
She took his hand, as he helped her off the bike. He pulled her into a quick embrace placing a sensual kiss on her unsuspecting mouth.
"I am very interested in learning what your limits are." he stared down into the light blue depths, his own mellow.
He nudged her nose with his own, grazing her mouth yet again.
"What about that bike, Liz." Francis was admiring the gigantic, gleaming Harley beside Red. "Did you like it?"
"Oh, I think she liked it just fine." Red stated innocently but Liz was sure Francis picked up on the 'why' of it all even though the young man held his peace for once.
He did offer a sheepish grin however.
"Actually..." Liz topped Red with a rather smug, "I would like a little more power if it's out there." she lifted innocent eyes to a very amused opponent.
"More power?" Francis was stymied, totally forgetting the previous tone the conversation held. "This is it! There is nothing that will compare to this baby!"
"Yes, Red always manages to obtain the best... don't you, Red."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Red pulled Liz to his side.
"So you enjoyed the ride though." Francis was anxious she do so.
"I liked the bike ride very much, Francis." Liz answered demurely. "Was the outing your idea?"
"I thought you'd been cooped up with Silas too long," Francis replied seriously, "you were starting to wear your hair like his."
"I thought the look was flattering." Liz feigned surprise.
"Any look on you is flattering." Ben stepped up to compliment.
"Thank you, Ben." she smiled pleasantly. "What a nice thing to say." she smiled, even as she narrowed her eyes at her best friend.
Red had turned a little at the way the man had stated the remark but Liz's handling of the matter calmed him.
"Hey, Red." Francis broke the tension further by pointing out some new arrivals.
Liz tensed however. Striding towards their group was an ensemble of very large, very menacing looking gentlemen.
Their dark scowls did not bode well but soon enough those expressions altered.
"How's it hanging, Red?" the obvious leader of the men stepped forward, hand clasping hand. A sharp sounding clap echoing between them as they connected.
Red rubbed his arm subconsciously after the greeting. "To the left, Mad Dog," was the ready reply which brought convivial laughter all around, "... to the left."
Francis and Ben fist bumped several of the younger ones, before being pulled into bear hugs by the older.
"How's your old lady? Pining away for me still?" Red continued his bantering.
"Nah, I've moved on, man." Mad Dog denied the accusation. "Susie is old news, we parted way back in April, right?" he checked with his posse.
"That was only a month ago." Francis was confused which brought another round of good hearted laughter.
"Whatever, man." the man shrugged. "Is this the little lady we've been hearing about in all the better circles?" Mad Dog had politely turned his attention to the lone female of their party.
"Elizabeth," Red made the introductions, secretly amused at the woman's slight irritation for the term used... little lady, "this is Maurice Morrison."
"The baddest mother this side of the Pecos." Francis was obviously smitten with the huge man's reputation.
"Do you even know where the 'Pecos' is?" Red was curious.
"Do you?" Francis countered.
"You have me there." Red conceded.
"The Pecos River runs from New Mexico to Texas, emptying into the Rio Grande." Mad Dog readily informed both men, before turning his attention back to Liz. "You can call me, Maurice, Miss." the large bearded man spoke with gentility that almost shocked her. "Now, I'm not kin to that Morrison puke from The Doors, mind you, just saying."
"You don't like Jim Morrison?" the woman was taken aback. She thought such people would naturally enjoy anything from The Doors, but then she realized that she was judging by appearances.
"Well of course I do, why would you think differently?"
"Well..." she sought out Red hastily, needing input, but the man only seemed to be listening intently as was the rest of the imposing clan, "you called him... a puke."
"I call Francis here a puke too." The young man was suddenly grabbed into a crushing, yet affectionate, headlock while Mad Dog playfully rubbed his knuckles into Francis' head... quite hard actually.
"Hey, man!" Francis squirmed about hastily from such gentle administrations. "Not the hair!" he quickly rushed to the nearest side mirror, checking his 'coif'.
"Don't mean I don't like the boy." Maurice explained patiently to the chuckles which ensued from his actions. "I'm quite fond of the lad, truth told."
Liz glanced at a suitably miffed, Francis Holbrook.
"Aww, man! Look at that!" he was busily combing his hair back into perfection.
"It's a pleasure to meet such a beautiful woman." Maurice was suddenly the consummate gentleman. "Red is a very fortunate individual."
Liz blinked for the cultured manner seemed totally out of whack with the image portrayed.
"Thank you." she hastily remembered her own manners, "It's very kind of you to say."
"We're over here, I take it?" Red got things back on track.
The enormous man bowed minutely, "We saved you a spot."
Liz glanced to the indicated area and the others who sat about with coolers and chairs aplenty scattered everywhere a spot was available.
"No one seemed to mind?" Francis asked tongue-in-cheek.
"No one said anything." Maurice shrugged massive shoulders.
They made their way across the large greens and through some makeshift barricades in order to get to the others who were taking up quite a bit of viewing space.
Liz noted a multitude of every kind of bike stretching for what seemed like miles in a neatly organized section over to their right.
"How many people are here?" she meant bikers, but didn't want to ruffle feathers if feathers might be ruffled.
"There's a few of us here today," Maurice was the spokesperson for the group, obviously, "but there won't be any trouble, don't you fret."
"I wasn't fretting..." Liz was quick to reassure. Red grinned accordingly.
"She's never been before." he explained. "And she doesn't fret." it was assured, even if Lizzy was 'fretting' slightly. "Just be yourself Mad Dog. You know how I love it when you are. Always makes for an interesting day."
Mad Dog seemed to relax, a hearty laugh escaping his frame.
Liz looked about trying to get her bearings. She was totally surprised when several of the women who were seated in a long aisle down the fenced off area smiled up at her in a friendly manner.
She smile right back. Out of nowhere, someone offered her a folding patio chair. Immediately she was drawn into a long questioning session, the women inquisitive about any aspect of her relationship with Red.
Normally, Liz was rather private about such things but the ladies were so open and humorous when discussing their own relationships, she instantly found herself divulging more than she had intended.
She cast hasty glances to Red, whose eyes always seemed to wander to hers as well.
It was odd to watch her well-coifed men mingling and laughing boisterously with the burly, bearded bikers. Francis with his four hundred dollar haircut was having a shoving match with a long-haired surfer looking 'dude' which ended in a more laughter and an easy camaraderie that seemed an alien concept on the surface.
Old friends at a long anticipated reunion. That was the impression given by this gathering. And maybe it was exactly the reality in this case. Red seemed to make friends where ever he went.
The men rejoined the women after a fashion, passing Lizzy an ice cold bottle of water that seemed to materialize out of nowhere.
A deep rumble of approaching thunder vaguely echoed in the back ground of conversation and people enjoying themselves.
Liz glanced up at a clear blue sky, puzzled as the white fluffy clouds drifted slowly overhead. She scanned the area absently having noted the crowds gathering on the opposite side of the street.
In the center median, a tall man in a dress uniform took his place. He stood quietly as if awaiting the arrival of something or someone.
"Who is that, do you think?" Liz enquired of no one in particular, her eyes locked, stationary on the imposing figure.
"He's the 'Lone Marine'." a man mumbled respectfully next to her, then fell silent as the sound of rumbling growls grew louder.
All faces turned expectantly, looking down the still empty street.
Liz had to stand, for everyone had risen. A line of police escorted whatever was to come, all dressed in their very best uniforms, she noted.
A movement from the corner of her eyes caught and held. She turned to see the tall, stately Marine lift his arm, smartly issuing a crisp salute.
The sound was growing louder and louder. It echoed through the crowd and around the inauspicious buildings off in the distance.
Liz now recognized the source of the din, but she was having a difficult time adjusting to the scope of such a concept but sure enough... within a few seconds, the first of many motorcycles to come, came into view.
Hundreds of motorcycles neatly lined both sides of the meridian where the Marine stood. They sped by at a good clip and Liz was to learn the why of it all, hours later. At times one or two Veterans would bring their bikes to a halt, smartly returning the salute offered.
Several times, 'Oorah, Staff Sergeant', was called out to the honoree.
"He's done this tribute for years now." Red's voice was close to her ear. Liz almost started, so involved with the events had she been.
Liz's eyes always returned to the ramrod straight figure with his arm raised high and proud, his eyes forward, scanning the multitude of Veterans as they passed.
Francis and Ben whistled loudly from time to time, a continuous clapping applause resounding from the spectators.
Red stood stoically, his eyes never leaving the lone Marine for any great length of time.
They continued to stand and the Marine continued to salute.
The heat was already wearing on Liz but suddenly there was blessed shade.
She glanced up to see an umbrella over her head and yet another bottle of water was handed over.
Liz glanced at the perspiring plastic container, the icy feel making her icy inside. She had shade, she had water...
Her eyes lifted to the Marine, who only kept holding his salute as Veteran after Veteran passed on the rumbling bikes.
She felt her eyes well with tears, her fingers gripping the water bottle tightly.
"Lizzy," Red had noted her condition, his eyes sweeping her frame with open concern, "is your leg bothering you?"
He knew Silas had demanded a particularly grueling training the day before which had affected her weakened limb.
"Silas shouldn't hav–"
Liz shook her head curtly, her own spine stiffening accordingly. She admired the stamina of the Marine across the way. She wasn't about to bother with her own insignificant aches and pains in the light of what that man was honoring this day.
The hour topped with the bikes still roaring down the barricaded street... the sun still beat down... the Marine still stood but at one point he swayed slightly, just for a millisecond. Liz grasped Red's arm.
"Red..." she refused to look from the man across the way.
Red nodded and two men in their party removed the barricade, heading for the man in question.
They crossed the street dodging the bikes who also dodged them. Having reached the Marine, they blotted his neck and face with wet bandannas and held up water, allowing him to drink.
All the while, he held his salute.
The Marine nodded his gratitude.
The tears rolled down the woman's cheeks.
Every person present must be feeling the honor and solidarity of this day, not only for the Veterans passing by, but for this man so stoically honoring his brothers-in-arms.
"Drink your water, sweetheart." she raised the drink automatically, secure in the knowledge that Red would see to the Marine's comfort.
His friends kept continuous treks to the Marine, cooling and hydrating the man when there was a gap. But even then, he refused to relent.
As they entered the final riders, his arm shook visibly but his stance was strong, his will determined.
Liz could feel his pain. Her own leg had started cramping a while ago, but she too, refused to relent. It felt like a sacrilege to not only the Marine, but to those who they were there to remember and honor.
Even drinking the ice water Red placed in her hand felt like a slap in the face to those who had fought in some damn hot jungle or barren desert.
"Drink it, Lizzy." Red raised the bottle himself, tipping it into her warm mouth.
As the final rider passed, the Marine slowly eased his arm down. And Liz found herself quietly crying.
Red turned her chin, making her look at him and away from the man marching proudly, though tiredly, off the center median, as crowds rushed to shake his hand or acknowledge his service.
Liz was ever so glad that soon the man would find shade, a part of her was angry for the people who kept him from his destination but she understood the need to touch this individual.
The shade...
The shade had been over her the entire time she stood there.
Red on the other hand was hot and sweating but smiling warmly down at her.
At his own sacrifice.
While he had suffered, he had shaded her from the hot sun. He had kept her hydrated.
She wrapped her arms around him, weeping brokenly into his chest and he didn't seem to mind, though he was blistering hot.
She let go, then spun hastily to a nearby ice chest, dousing a handkerchief with water before wiping his face and neck with the cool cloth. Taking the umbrella from his hand, she held it over him as she continued to try and cool him down.
"I'm fine, Lizzy." he assured quietly.
Her fingers shook as she doused the cloth again and again repeatedly wiping down his arms, until he caught her hand in mid-flight.
"I'm fine." he repeated and turned her hand, kissing her chilled fingers. "Don't forget, I wore a uniform too." he laughed quietly. "I know what it means to suffer."
Liz mentally slapped her forehead, remembering. He had served in the Navy, of course.
Because of his criminal history, his military record had been sealed, redacted. She knew he had served on a ship, but something in his eyes bespoke of more. She often wondered of his past, perhaps one day that would all be laid open to her.
"T-Thank you..." she said with great difficulty around trembling lips.
"Yes, it was a great difficulty to hold an umbre–" She reached up, covering his lips with her fingers, shaking her head once.
"Thank you for taking care of me and for your service." she wondered if anybody had ever said that to him. "For your sacrifice."
Red reached out, brushing her bangs from her eyes, smiling softly, "The sacrifices are worth it when what you cherish most in this world is safe from harm."
He dabbed away the remnants of her tears, his eyes gentle, "Now, let's go pay our respects."
Red gestured the way and she took a step, grimacing, hobbling once. The next thing she knew, she was spun around then soundly deposited over a sturdy shoulder.
"Francis," Liz giggled, pushing off the man's back as Red laughed at her predicament, "stop jostling me, I'll puke."
"If you're going to," the man called back, "you better warn me."
Each of their companions mounted their own rides, even as Red and his friends mounted theirs.
Before she knew it, they were gliding in behind the Veterans they had just watched pass by, continuing on.
She took in the sea of people, taking great interest in the patches on their vests and jackets. Many of these people had come from very far away to pay tribute to those who had fallen, and she felt even more touched by such dedication. Some, even from Alaska, she heard tell.
That they remembered...
She realized as they walked along with the throngs of people milling about, she didn't quite know where they were.
They had parked the bikes and then joined in with the others.
Having been too busy looking at everyone and now, being shorter than many people around her, Liz couldn't really see any pertinent landmarks.
"Where are we going?" she asked quietly, for those around her had adopted a low din of conversation.
"The Wall." was Red's solemn reply.
In the time she had lived here, she had not visited The Wall, but then, she hadn't done much else either. She had just been too busy with work and her crumbling home life.
It seemed only fitting that the first time would be this day.
Liz had always looked at Memorial Day simply as cookouts and a long weekend.
She had forgotten that it was because of these men and women who surrounded her now, that she had the freedom to do such things. What better way to observe their service, but to visit a monument made in their honor.
She looped her arm through Red's, listening to the smattering of conversations around her. From all walks of life these people had emerged.
Men in uniform spoke amiably with their counterpoints, some laughing, some not.
The new and old generations, connecting on a level only so few could understand but the brave and courageous individuals who had experienced the devastation of war.
As they followed the line of people, Liz's interest was torn in so many different directions. Off to her right, some women posed next to a statue honoring nurses... while a group of men, all different in age and ethnicity, yet sporting the same platoon badge, did the same next to a statue of three men of varying race.
And as they neared the Wall, the diversity became even greater.
Old war buddies remembering their fallen comrades, lovers mourning their long lost loves... and children, now well into adulthood, connecting with the parent they may very well have never met at all.
Each of them touched the dark slick surface, as though looking for solidity or to even feel just a moment closeness with the one lost to them. They ran their fingers over the etched names reverently. Their eyes searching for something they could not possibly find.
She looked at Red to see his reaction to what was happening around them, only to find him searching the panels. His dedication paid off. He took her hand, guiding her to one section.
He quietly scanned the area, the Wall stretching well above his head. His eyes fixed on a point, then just as the others had, Red reached out, reverently touching the black granite wall.
She watched his finger tracing an etched name, revealing one letter at a time.
JACKSON R REDDINGTON
"My Uncle Jack." Red said, his solemn voice filling the silence. "I thought he was the next best thing to chocolate milk." he smiled fondly.
"How old were you?" the reference alerted her to an early age.
"I was five when he left the first time. By the time I reached twelve... he was gone." his eyes misted, before refocusing on the point of interest. "A month away from the end of his tour."
"Jack Reddington." she repeated in a hushed whisper as she stretched uselessly, attempting to reach the name. Red wrapped his arm around her waist keeping her steady as she tip-toed, her fingers finally joining his to trace the engraving.
"Reddington?" A man next to them spoke up, stepping forward slightly for he clearly had not wanted to intrude on the private moment, "...I knew Red."
Liz's 'Red' turned to the man, with great interest. "You did?"
"I sure did," the proud Vet stuck out his hand, which Red took immediately, "great guy...damned prankster. He was always giving one of us the business in some way or other." the man laughed in remembrance. "We always kinda appreciated it though, you know." the guy drifted off for a second. "Once, after coming off a hot mission he..."
Liz zoned off into the tale the man told, listening intently but her eyes focused on Red who was unconsciously rubbing his Uncle's name with his finger while reliving the man's life through the stories being told.
The older gentlemen obviously had been fond of Jack Reddington and he spoke of him in tones that made Red chuckle or grow intently quiet.
Liz smiled warmly having caught Francis and Ben, as they too listened avidly. She caught site of a volunteer carrying flowers and what looked to be pamphlets.
She tugged on Francis's arm and he inclined his head so he could hear her, "Give me some money." She whispered urgently. She had left her belongings at home.
He pulled out his wallet, absently handing it to her, then laughed his delight at the old Vet's latest description of one of Jack's shenanigans.
Liz walked over to the volunteer, requesting some items before heading back to Red. She inched up behind him, then tapped his hand gently. He automatically moved it, probably thinking it was someone looking for their own loved one's name.
Liz had witnessed several occurrences of the same incident happening.
Francis, still enthralled by the stories, stood casually beside Red so she slid his wallet in his back pocket, then discreetly placed the bouquet of flowers in his hand. She smiled softly when his fingers curled instinctively around the bunch, holding them out of sight.
She turned back to the Wall, keeping a running check on Red. The man seemed totally engrossed in learning everything he could concerning his Uncle.
Having placed the paper against the Wall, Liz discovered she was just a little too short to get a proper tracing of the name. She looked about fruitlessly then tapped Francis on the shoulder.
She pointed at the Wall, silently asking for his assistance.
He handed off the flowers to Ben, crouching down, waving her forward. She instantly understood his meaning.
Sitting on his shoulders, the man gripped her thighs and stood effortlessly. She was raised to a perfect height to get a really good tracing without strain.
She checked to see how to do it properly as others were already deep within the process. She softly rubbed the black stick against the white paper until the name started to appear.
"Is this your wife?" she heard the man say, looking down from her concentrated effort.
"No, this..." Red had turned, obviously hesitating when he saw her activity. The man was touched by her thoughtfulness, "...is my fiancée, Elizabeth."
"You know, if Jack was here you'd have some competition. He did love his brunettes." the old Vet laughed his delight. "Especially one as pretty as her."
"He'd have a damn good fight on his hands..." Red grumbled, making the old gentleman laugh out loud.
"You know, I was there when he..." the old guy hesitated, clearing his throat, shaking his head, as he pushed away the visual, but not the memory, "I don't know if they ever told you, since you were so young... but he fought hard. Saved a lot of lives that day. If it wasn't for him..." the man looked at the etched name Liz was still tracing, sighing heavily.
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. My tour ended a week after he..." the man nodded once, swallowing hard, "he saved my ass more than once. I will be forever grateful to have been in combat with him." he fell silent for a moment, before chuckling softly.
"You know after he..." the man trailed off then smiled wistfully, "we got back to base and found that he had short sheeted all of us. How the hell he did that before we left..." he shook his head in sorrow and amusement. "He was a damn good guy."
"Yes, he was." Red replied solemnly.
"I'll let you get back to..." the man gestured, then held out a card, "but if you'd ever like to hear more about him, call me."
"Thank you, Sir." Red took the card offered, placing it carefully in his wallet. "It was very kind of you to tell me something about him."
"My pleasure." they clasped hands, gripping them. "Ya'll have a good Memorial weekend."
Liz was just finishing up her tracing when Red inched closer to her and Francis. He watched the ceremonial gesture silently.
Francis slowly bent his knees, easing the woman down. Red reached out, gripping her hand until her feet were on solid ground. Francis backed away, holding out a long slim folder to Red.
The man opened it, allowing Liz to place the tracing inside, before smoothing it out respectfully.
Ben held out the beautiful flowers, giving them to Red.
Red had of course, seen Lizzy's movement out of the corner of his eye earlier, but had not known her intentions exactly.
Now he knew.
Red nodded his gratitude to them all, more than touched by the offering, then knelt, placing them at the foot of the tall structure.
He bowed his head for a few seconds, lost in silent thought or maybe even prayer before he stood back up.
"Thank you, Lizzy." he hugged her enthusiastically before murmuring against the soft skin of her neck.
He loosened one arm, shaking Francis' hand then Ben's.
"You're welcome." she smiled up at him, then kissed him, holding it for a moment before dropping back to solid ground. Red was after all, a good five inches taller.
They walked the rest of the Wall together, as he pointed out objects of interest as they passed. He was surprised to realize at one point, that they had been holding hands the entire time.
He raised their clasped hands, kissing her fingers. She smiled at him softly, before pointing at something which had caught her interest.
While Francis and Ben occasionally stopped to help people get a tracing of a name, he and Lizzy looped back around to get a better look of some of the statues as they headed back for their bikes. The two men easily caught up at the reunion point.
"Are you tired?" Red asked as he helped Liz onto the bike.
"No, I'm okay."
"Your leg?" he questioned, having been aware of her favoring it for some time now.
"Silas is trying to kill me." she replied, then smiled. "I'm fine." she adjusted her helmet then slid closer to Red as he started the bike.
Red gave Francis a thumbs up before heading off.
Liz was surprised that more than twenty of the bikers accompanied them.
As they approached the bridge, she realized their destination was not home.
"Where are we going now?" she was more than curious.
"Arlington."