Focal Point

by Daniel Davies

(Lizzington) A dangerous serial killer targets Elizabeth Keen as the newest Blacklister hits too close to home for Red Reddington. She must rely on the one person her instincts tell her she can trust. Liz finds herself inexplicably drawn closer to the only man capable of protecting her from this insidious new threat. (Mature Content)

92. Sanctuary

Author Notes: Get a snack, a good drink and relax... this is going to take a while.

---

May 25

"I was going to just come over and say hello, but you've got quite the entourage there." the man who was around Red's age, but did not hold the years as well, had inclined his head to the ensemble across the way.

"So I just caught the nicest looking one of the bunch's attention and made an appointment, so to speak." he held out his hand until Red finally took it. "It's good to see you again, Red."

"Is it, Matt?" Red's tone was acerbic.

"I never believed the shit they pinned on you." the chill in the air was dispelled by a careless wave of the hand. "And not many of the others did either." the man's eyes held a certain sincerity that surprised Red.

"You are maybe one of the very few."

"Not so few. A lot of us think you got the shaft." Matt Henson was pleased he could set the record straight. The guy had hem and hawed about approaching Red Reddington after so many years but now, was glad he had. "We've been watching your progress over the years. We didn't know how to show our support... exactly. But we would have given you a pat on the back."

It was still a touchy subject if Red's expression, or lack thereof, was any indication.

"Yes, well. Not all I do is reported." Red replied irreverently.

"I'm sure." the man chuckled. "Look, I just wanted to say, hey." the awkwardness was lessening on both parts. " Let you know you got some supporters out here. Speaking of which," Matt searched out his wallet, extracting a card, handing it over, "take this."

Red read the neat script absently before returning his arresting gaze returned to the man's earnest face.

"It's got my number on it and we're all linked on the Net. You ever need anything... really. You have help."

"Are you my groupies?" Red grinned, placing the card into his own wallet.

"Well, a couple of us do have your wanted poster pinned to our walls." Matt replied pseudo-seriously. "I'm not one to blow kisses at it, but I can't say for the others." he nodded amiably. "You know, don't ask, don't tell."

Red chuckled quietly, this day was proving most interesting in more ways than one.

He wasn't sure how he felt about this new development but, who the hell knew... what he thought would turn out shitty, even become confrontational... was taking a different slant.

"You've done well, Red. Sticking it to the establishment and all." it was chuckled appreciatively. "Hear tell, you've made a little on the side as well, huh?" Matt could tell the man's clothes were of an expensive cut."

"I do have my own jet." Red replied straight faced, though his eyes were lit with merriment. "Well. It's just a small jet." he regretted his impulsive jibe. "And the gas mileage will kill you." he made the man laugh.

"Okay," Matt nodded amiably yet again, "anyone can own a jet, you're right but still, I'm even more jealous truth told." the man's eyes cut to the cute brunette across the way.

"I'm a dirty little traitor. What's to be jealous of?" Red's brows furrowed critically.

"You are that." the ruddy faced man chuckled greatly to take the sting out of the words. "I meant," he pointed with a lift of his head to the approximate 'subject' at hand, "I saw you with that girl earlier, the one kissing you." impressed brows were lifted.

"She's a little... young, isn't she?" he teased but admiration showed in his envious eyes.

"Young?" A slow smile crept over Red's face. "...not for me."

Matt took the veiled insult in his stride, ""You're right there." a slight scowl appeared on the still rugged face. "I couldn't handle the pressure... say, it looks like you may have a little competition there bud."

"I doubt it." Red's reply was lost in the din of engines approaching, as a formation of WWII planes thundered overhead, the deafening sound disrupting further conversation.

---

"It's okay..." Liz held up a restraining hand to the two guards Red had left in charge. "It's just my ex." she pulled a disgruntled face which subsequently allowed the men to relax their vigilance to a degree.

Two pairs of belligerent eyes scanned Tom's frame with the open threat of mayhem should anything out of the norm prevail in the upcoming minutes, however.

Tom chose the better part of valor... discretion. "Liz, we desperately need to talk." he threw a cautionary glance at Red's back, which was still turned from the, the man's attention elsewhere for a moment, "Away from here!"

"Don't you get it?" the woman was mystified by the guy's lack of common sense. "I don't want to talk to you... not ever, ever again!"

"You don't know what the hell you're doing! Trusting Red Reddington, for God's sake." Tom was beside himself. "What is in your head?"

"I will tell you what is out of my head," Liz kept her voice low that passerby's might not be pulled into yet another endless confrontation, " all the lies and pretense you put there... you better leave if you know what's good for you." she glanced hastily to Francis and Ben's location but thankfully, both seemed occupied.

"You're ruining a perfectly amazing day, if you must know... as usual." her tone turned angry as did the light blue eyes. "I don't want these innocent people pulled into one of your sick attempts to turn me to the dark side."

"You know my abilities, Liz." the man's own eyes chilled, "you think these big apes will stop me? I have information about your little friends you need to hear. We can do this the easy way," he shifted, showing a weapon inside his light weight jean jacket, "or the hard way. It's up to you. You want them hurt, permanently, because quite frankly, I'm in no mood to suffer one of Reddington's noble attempts at rescue."

"It wouldn't be an attempt." Liz sneered. "One of these days, he's going to take your ass down and I fervently hope that I am there to witness it!"

"Yeah, whatever. Are you going to get these people in between a fire fight just because you're afraid to hear the truth?"

"I know the truth." she disgusted. The woman cast a hasty glance Red's way. He looked so relaxed and happy today.

She wasn't going to let Tom spoil that. "You've got three minutes." she shot the man daggers.

The man jerked his head indicating a secluded spot in which to speak.

Liz felt relatively safe, it was just a hundred meters away over a small knoll.

Small grassy knoll... bad things happened on small grassy knolls.

"Hey guys," she forced a brightness and big smile for the guards Red trusted to watch over her, "can I have just a few seconds?" she pointed out the spot. "I won't go far, I promise. You can see me."

The two men exchanged guarded, wary glances.

"Come on." Tom put on his best 'normal guy' guise. "He knows me, we're old acquaintances."

Liz's forced smile remain fixed. "I'm just going to be right over there." she reaffirmed. "It'll be fine. Take just a minute... really."

It was clear the men did not want to relent but... in the end, they did.

"No further, ma'am." a dark scowl followed the warning but if was for Tom, clearly.

Tom held up his hands in a sign of 'peace'.

Liz hobbled a little, the rest had helped her leg.

"What's wrong with you?" Tom had noticed the slight injury.

"You!" she turned on him instantly. "You're what's wrong! What is this information you–"

"No, your leg." Tom snipped, gesturing.

"My horse threw me on my usual morning ride, what's it to you?" she was hanging out with Silas too much, Liz had to face facts. "Alright," at Tom's confused face, she continued, "what is this great truth you are to impart, oh, Sage One?"

Tom was antsy and impatient, constantly throwing glances Red's way.

"Yeah, you better err on the side of caution." Liz had noted the comical state, amused by the man's jitters. "He catches you within ten feet of me, he'll kick your ass from here to New York."

"You mean he'll have someone do it for him?" Tom's eyes shifted to the two guards who watched him like a hawk.

"He doesn't need assistance for the likes of you." Liz disdained. "He would have put you down years ago if it hadn't been for me, and you know it."

"What I know..." the man had more important things to discuss, "is that you are in grave danger and you're too stupid to see the fact. I have proof!"

"Oh, you do..." Liz nodded sympathetically, smiling tightly for the guards sake only. "If you mean from your feeble attempts to lead me to the Cabal..."

"I mean from him!" Tom gestured angrily then calmed seeing the guards inch closer. He got himself under control with stressed difficulty. "Look, we can't talk freely here."

"Spit it out." the woman snapped her waning patience. "I'm not standing here all–"

"The evidence is in my car." he gestured just as snippily. "You think I would bring it here in case Reddington–"

"There is no way in hell," Liz was positive, "I'm moving from this spot, so you had just better–"

Tom's patience snapped, seeing her intractable stance was a genuine one. He pulled his weapon, aiming with deadly accuracy.

A formation of WWII planes thundered overhead, masking the sound of the weapon firing.

---

Following the planes path until they flew out of sight, Red's movements continued, glancing over his shoulder searching out Matt's meaning. His body tensed instantly, coiled for action.

"Son of a bitch!" Taking off at a clipped pace, racing across the crowded grounds in a desperate dash.

"What the hell?" Matt scowled at the unexpected turn of events. Shots rang out and like everyone else in the immediate vicinity, he dove for cover.

One guard fell heavily, clutching at his knee, blood spurting between clenched fingers.

Tom snapped off another clean shot, taking the other rapidly approaching guard out of commission.

He could see Red Reddington making rapid progress, the man having a clear path now that the crowd, like a herd of wild mustangs, scurried in all directions, seeking shelter from the raining gunfire.

There was only one other man in his field of vision that seemed to have any balls whatsoever. Tom could recognize Liz's partner in the distance, weapon drawn but the man was too far away to be effective.

Tom sneered his contempt. Stupid people! They got in his way most days. They were useless in the real world. The world he lived in at least.

They went about their meaningless little lives, heads stuck in the proverbial sand, not one of them having any clue about what went on behind the scenes.

In the murky, shadowing depths of those who called the shots... made the plans, guided the future, kept it all afloat.

So that these pitiable creatures could turn a blind eye. The had their cookouts and soccer practices, day in, day out, none the wiser for the simple fact, men like him protected their fat asses from the harsh realities of the world.

He was questioning himself more and more these days... why did he even bother?

The man gripped Elizabeth's arm in a tight clench, one objective in mind as the rapidly unfolding drama played out.

---

Francis Holbrook was stuffing the treasures he had purchased today into the compartment on his bike.

He laughed jovially at his biker friend's telling of a bar fight gone wrong... as if one had ever gone right when the man's tale was overshadowed by a rumbling roar filling the air around them.

Halting his actions, he craned his head, glancing up at the impressive sight of the enormous planes overhead until they were out of sight.

Sharing a pleased smile with the man across from him, Francis shifted alert eyes when he heard a the subtle popping sound as the planes engines muted.

It had sounded like firecrackers at first but the young man knew instantly, that was not the case.

His eyes darted to the bench where he had last seen Elizabeth Scott.

Several people crouched beside the flimsy makeshift cover, their faces drawn with terror and stress.

Francis' eyes scanned frantically... out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Red shove someone from his intended path.

The man was moving with remarkable agility.

Another shot followed, cracking crisply in the still air. People scattered or hit the deck, allowing Francis a clear view.

In the back of his mind, he took stock of the situation as it now stood.

Francis followed the natural path Red was taking, spotting Lizzy.

Guards were down, rolling in agony.

She was just past the grassy knoll, being forcibly dragged by some fucker. The woman was not going softly into that good night.

"Fuck!" he rasped hoarsely, his body in motion before he was aware it had taken command.

He was moving with grace and speed of a young athlete, easily clearing the chain lined fence that ran along the sidewalk.

He made quick work of dodging the innocent people taking cover on the ground, bouncing over them as if they weren't even there.

Red was gaining ground, closing the distance between Elizabeth and her assailant. Francis would reach her first, but he had another target in mind.

"Elizabeth!"

Tom and Liz looked up when they heard Red yell her name to find the man gaining quickly on their position.

"Come on!" Tom grated his growing annoyance. "Stop fighting me, dammit!"

"No!" Liz pulled at her arm, as she planted her feet uselessly. Her right foot stuck, but her left couldn't withstand his relentless tugging. He had already dragged her a good twenty feet away from her original position.

"Let go!" she struggled against his iron grip as he pulled her across the greens. She would have to revise her options. His car loomed in the very near distance. She always hated that ugly thing! "You're hurting me!" she pulled uselessly on her arm, unable to break free.

"Dammit, Liz! Come on!" he didn't want to hurt her but she was narrowing his options.

"Leave me alone!" she swung out, only to have Tom knock her arm away, backhanding her across the cheek.

It was for the greater good, surely. He disliked striking her but he had priorities.

A group of onlookers protested the action. A few of the more courageous, regaining their equilibrium. A large ensemble grouped, starting for the pair.

Tom fired two shots to discourage such a stupid recourse.

Liz had spun about with the hit, losing her footing for a moment. Tom dropped the weapon to his side, unceremoniously jerking her back towards him. Swinging her arm in a vicious arc, she caught the asshole across the mouth, drawing blood.

Tom brushed at the red dribble with his knuckles, tightening his hold on her arm. He could make it... the car door was a few feet away, if he could just get inside...

Liz punched out again, knocking him across the windpipe like Silas taught her, causing the man to release his tight hold, but also strike out himself.

He choked, coughing, sputtering helplessly for a beat.

Stumbling back, Liz snagged her heel on a concrete parking block, falling to the ground. She winced painfully, shaking off the hit and uncontrolled drop. She felt hands grip about her waist as Tom bent over, yanking her lax body up off the ground.

Just as he gripped her thigh. Meaning to boost her over his shoulder and end all this ridiculous, useless struggling once and for all... a heavy blur hit him out of nowhere, the momentum of the hit, tackling Tom to the rough texture of the parking lot.

Liz fell from his hold, hitting the ground hard again, knocking the air from her lungs and jarring her jaw painfully. She pushed back with her feet, distancing herself from the altercation that was now taking place when large hands reached under her arms, lifting her to gently to her feet.

"Time to go..."

Red guided her away from Ben and Tom. He pulled her close against his chest, dodging Francis, who had arrived on scene like the Seventh Calvary. The young man eagerly joined the brutal skirmish.

Pushing through the crowds, Red steered her forward. Liz ducked her head, mortified, embarrassed, by what had just occurred. She hid from the gawking, mouth gaping onlookers.

Protectively shielding the woman, Red held his temper admirably. Not for the crowd, his fury ran deeper and it was for one individual alone.

The sound of running feet gained on them quickly. Instinctively reaching for his weapon, he dropped his hand hastily when he realized it was Ben and Francis who approached.

The crowd once again crouched quickly, becoming unseen entities at the sight of the glinting metal of the gun.

"He got away?" Red demanded tersely.

"I flung his ass towards Francis and he got up and bolted." Ben apologized. "That bastard can run!"

"He's had a lot of practice." Red seethed quietly. "It was her ex-husband." he spoke in deference to the questioning faces.

"The stalker asshole?" Francis scowled irritably. "I should have popped that fucking bitch harder."

Liz hobbled quickly, wincing with each step, commencing their trek which had momentarily been waylaid.

Red snagged her elbow. "Slow down." he advised calmly. "We are leaving, baby. But we are not running away... there's a difference."

Liz who was still attempting to acclimate herself to all that had happened in such a small span of time, took a cleansing breath, nodding minutely.

"No, we are not." she was determined to adopt the same stoic attitude.

Red had pulled up short having reached the motorcycles, his face a grave etching of studied concern.

"Ben, will you see to the men?" he motioned to the crowd that had gathered across the way around the two guards who lay, wounded, but visibly conscious.

One was seen to irritably shake off any assistance offered. The other sat up, allowing a pretty woman to attend to his shoulder wound.

Red was later to learn, that the woman was a Registered Nurse out of Walter Reed Hospital.

He sent her an enormous bouquet of flowers with a note of gratitude. Enclosed was more than enough to pay off her student loans.

He was grateful she had intervened for his men when he could not.

"Call Kaplan." Tossing his phone to Francis, Red continued, absently packing away their packages that Liz had left on the bench.

His acquaintances, the ones who had accompanied them on this outing earlier in the day, had arrived on scene moments ago.

"We just heard, man." Mad Dog was expressing his regrets. "We got here as fast as–"

"No worries." Red dismissed. "Thanks for these..." he held up the last of the gifts he had purchased which had been retrieved by one of the ensemble. "Danny would be upset if I had forgotten it."

"Ah, Danny can suck himself." Mad Dog was of a mind. "You better haul ass, the cops have to be en route by now."

"Why is it," Francis wanted to know, "they are always the last to know about anything when it goes down?"

"They saved our asses a few times over the years." Red reminded, his eyes scanning a reticent Elizabeth, reading her closed off body language easily.

"Not on purpose." Francis chided.

"So what's this all about? Who started it?" Mad Dog allowed Red to mount his bike. "You want we should talk to them for ya, Red... explain how very rude they have been?"

Red grinned, his mood mellowing.

"Do you fucking believe this?" Francis pointed, his mouth agape, his features incredulous. "That mother fucker is standing right there!"

All eyes turned.

Tom Keen took the new notoriety in his stride.

He shifted into a more comfortable position, clearly favoring his right side. The one that had hit the pavement with Ben's less than gentle tackle.

"I'm going to cap his fucking ass." Francis started off, incensed for such blatant disrespect. Ben by his side.

"Francis!" Liz was aghast. "He has a gun!"

"So do I..." the young man resumed his determined steps. His eyes, had Elizabeth been able to see, turned a glacial green.

"What do you mean you will 'cap his ass'!" Liz hurried to halt any further advancement.

Tom Keen stood, watching... nothing more.

"Cap him..." Francis clarified, gesturing accordingly, "as in, I'm gonna put a slug right between his beady little eyes."

"You will do no such thing!" Liz snapped. "Stop being ridiculous... Tom is..." she trailed off, seeking Red's assistance but none was forthcoming.

"You expect me to stop them?" the man's voice was brittle. "The fucker hit you... again!"

"This is my fault." Liz relented, feeling the weight of her words, glancing shakily back to the two fallen men.

"...Yes." Red grated his fury for one alone but his anger was expressing itself in boundless capacity, "it is."

Liz was stung by the words and his actions.

"Two men are down because you decided it was okay to let that bastard near you again!" Red motioned curtly to the patiently waiting individual.

"What is this spell he has over you?" Red was beside himself. "That you feel you must give him every opportunity to prove his sincerity?"

"It– it wasn't like that." she faltered.

"Then what?" Red exploded, gripping the handlebars of his motorcycle in a death grip. "Explain it to me. Why would you put yourself... my men, in such a position?"

Red knew he was being unfair, unreasonable, belligerent... all of the above and Lizzy's stricken face tore at his heart strings, but dammit to hell... enough was enough.

He pushed off the bike, standing over the woman. His dark eyes steadily holding her searching ones.

Tilting Lizzy's chin up to look at her face. Red's grey eyes twitched angrily, finding her cheek swelling and reddened. His thumb gently stroked the injury, a stark contrast to Tom Keen's touch.

"Why do you allow him to do this to you?" the roughened voice lowered painfully.

Liz's eyes fell to his mouth, willing the answers that swirled about madly in her head, to come into focus. Her brow furrowed painfully, trying to make sense of the madness... to find a starting point.

"You still love him." Red accused...concluded bitingly, after the long silence.

She jerked back, shaking her head slightly, as though not having comprehended the words.

"No..." she whispered her shock.

Red lifted his eyes, staring out over her head... the distrust apparent to her way of thinking.

"He threatened to start something." Liz disliking being placed between a rock and a hard place, found her focus... her backbone. "What was I supposed to do!" she raised her own voice. "He could have killed any number of those people!" she lifted a pointed finger to the holiday crowd. "Just as he could have the men he shot."

Red was reminded of Tom Keen's lack of empathy for other's than himself.

"I thought if I at least... placated the son-of-a-bitch," she was close to tears, "I might save some lives... you know what he is capable of."

"Can you guess my capabilities?" Francis did not like to see his friends hurting, more determined than ever. "He's trying to drive a wedge and you're letting him!" he accused Red to his face. "Now, let's end the mother fucker."

Francis and Ben began the needed journey with a few decisive steps yet again.

"...No." Red stated all too quietly, knowing truth when he heard it.

Francis turned, flabbergasted.

"He will hurt you..." Liz's eyes beseeched.

"No, Liz," Francis was more than incensed, "he will not."

Ben stood staunchly by the young man's side.

"You don't know him," she couldn't explain, not here, not now...

"He doesn't know me." the confidence almost convinced the woman.

This was not swagger. This was a cool, calculated rejoinder. The man's eyes held a confident, calm inner composure that Liz could not define.

"Francis," Red had tempered his anger. He straddled the bike, his shoulders set, but resigned. "We'll handle this in another fashion... later. We have to vacate."

Sirens could be heard in the distance. Speculative gestures and attention from the gathering crowd was growing.

"He will tail us." Ben reminded. "You want her location known?"

Red weighed the options given him. He shifted non-committal eyes.

There was a leak in his organization. Their whereabouts had obviously been broadcast to the lowlifes in the city...

He already knew Carvers methods. The man would never really attempt anything in the light of day. The Vegas incident had been 'play time' only.

Had he not been so shaken, Red would have remembered the bastard's M.O.

Red had felt confident in the holiday outing. But Tom Keen was a different type of psycho.

A psycho that may or may not have a certain magnetizing pull, the likes of Charles Manson... with Elizabeth Keen.

She had stated her case as to the why, but there was still doubt...

He had voiced that fear in Vegas and it was a fear that came true today.

How could he protect her, when she blindly followed after that psychopath.

It hurt that there was this wedge... this distrust... between them.

He lifted a steady gaze which Tom returned.

There had to be a reckoning. This had to stop, one way or another. Red refused to live under another man's terms or conditions.

"Are you coming?" he asked quietly.

Elizabeth's heart hurt. He had to ask?

She stepped slowly, taking her place beside him.

Mad Dog helped her mount the large bike. She could feel the tension in Red's body as she settled in behind him.

"There are lots of ways a car can take out a few bikes." Mad Dog remarked casually, glancing over to Tom Keen then flipped him off absently, which was the man's way.

Keen's slight shake of the head said, 'Consider the source'.

Mad Dog smiled happily, "Want an escort?"

Francis was the one balking this time. He paced restlessly back and forth, having a decision of his own to make obviously, his eyes never having left Tom Keen.

"There are too many witnesses man." Mad Dog laughed at the absurdity of the move Francis was contemplating.

"Don't end her day like this." Red asked rather than told, his eyes placid now. "Don't end her day with you in cuffs."

"Oh, now you're solicitous of her feelings?" Francis was glad to have an outlet for the fury he felt. "Look at her face, man!"

Red hesitated then shifted slightly, turning his head.

Liz's cheek was swollen more than it was moments ago, a nasty red welt marking the lovely skin.

Red eyes closed, fighting the return of the rising fury.

"He fucking belted her!" Francis snarled. "Don't you think that was a mood killer in itself!"

Red took a deep breath, quelling his desire to blow Tom's fucking head off himself. There was a certain pleasure to be derived from standing over a foe... watching the life drain from their eyes... when had that started?

He curtailed such pleasant thoughts, instead turning his attention to his gut feeling. He had always trusted his gut and right now, it was gnawing at him... telling him to leave and get Elizabeth to the safety of the house.

"Getting her home safely, is more important." Red rationalized to them all and himself. "We'll get him later." he promised the boy... and himself. "I give you my word, Francis. Will you take it?"

A battle of wills ensued for along beat. Liz held her breath wondering what more she could say to sway Francis' will.

"Francis, we need to go." Red jerked his chin towards the people pointing their way and the uniformed cops taking note of them in the distance.

Francis cursed under his breath, signifying his displeasure, but nodded curtly, stalking to his bike.

"We'll get you home, little lady. Safe and sound." the large biker stated, grinning. "Don't you even think about it for another second."

"Thank you." Red replied, firing the bike to life. He watched all take their mounts, then nodded to the boy who watched with a sullen expression. "Francis, you lead."

"There's no need to get these guys involved." Liz was remembering the guards. She had watched Red don his helmet, before following suit. Mad Dog's words haunted her. 'There are lots of ways a car can take out a few bikes'.

"I don't think he set out to hur–" she trailed off, sickened. It sounded as if she were defending him. "I can handle Tom."

Red pulled out behind Francis and Ben. As they hit the street, they were immediately surrounded by a veritable sea of Harley's and Indian's.

"No, Lizzy. You can't handle Tom." Red shook his head. "You're too emotionally invested." he sighed heavily. "Tom will always hurt you." he grated the words. "That's what he does and will always do. Be it emotionally or physically." he growled low in his throat, the anger returning with a vengeance.

Liz knew he was right, and what's worse, she didn't know how to break the chain. She thought she had been doing well. Had pushed Tom from her mind.

"You could walk away from me..." his jaw pulsed at the remembrance of their earlier relationship.

Truth told, he had always liked her spunk. How she didn't kowtow to him.

"Where is that Lizzy? The one who called me on my bullshit." Red questioned. "Why can't you walk away from him?" he finished quietly.

Silence fell between them. Red searched his mind for something to say to lessen the impact of his words but he was too distraught and besides he had to keep his prospective... he knew Tom Keen would not give up so easily.

He would make things right with Elizabeth when he could... when the emotions were not running so high.

They finally hit a good stretch of road that offered him a straight shot, allowing him to get good speed. Glancing past their plentiful escort in the rearview mirror, his eyes darkened when he saw a dark blue car, fishtail around a corner.

"So it begins..." he muttered absently, his mind working the logistics of the new problem rapidly. He caught Francis' attention, jerking his head to the rear of the roaring pack surrounding them.

Francis glanced in his rear view mirror watching a blue car gaining momentum toward their little entourage.

Mad Dog had picked up on the commotion, signaling his people who instantly were alerted. The signal passed down the line, one after another having glanced back at the 'blue' car fast approaching their locale.

Liz heard the loud rumble as they sped up and before she knew it, they were on all sides of them, blocking sight of their bike.

Ben slowed, having sensed a problem. Francis kept craning his neck, keeping tabs on Tom's location.

Francis let go of his steering, gesturing to Red, something Liz could not quite 'get'. Red's low chuckle thrilled the woman after such a long silence, but couldn't enjoy it to it's fullest as she had other priorities at the moment.

She too, kept a running check on the recklessly weaving driver of the blue car.

Mad Dog had understood Francis' 'gesture' all too well, a heavy laugh escaping the individual. He held up his hand, waving his fingers outward and in an instant, his riders parted like the Red Sea, giving their tail car ample time to pass.

Mad Dog even offered a gallant sweep of his burly, tattooed arm as Tom took the 'opportunity', gunning his engine, steering the vehicle thought the heavy Harley's.

He offered a tight scowl as he passed, sensing a trap but it was a chance he would have to take to reach his objective. He was used to taking risks in life.

"Hold on tight, Lizzy." Red instructed, watching Francis drop back behind their position.

She squeezed Red's middle, tightening her thighs around his as he 'hit it'. They flew down a long stretch of ramp, merging into traffic on the interstate without slowing, one iota.

Why make it easy for the asshole, Red philosophized. There was always a good chance Keen would lose control of the car, after all. Pity if that were to happen.

"It will be fine." Red said calmly, feeling the mounting tension in the woman's body.

Liz inhaled deeply, easing her nervousness just as she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of a flash of blue.

"You asshole!" she growled angrily as Tom came up alongside them. She flipped him off, then hastily wrapped her arm back around Red. "What the hell is he trying to do? Kill us all!"

Red chuckled low in her ear, appreciating her moxie. "He's rather persistent, isn't he?" he sighed, as the plan slowly fell into place. "Uh oh..."

Liz turned her head as Francis appeared out of nowhere to their left. The young man causally moved between their bike and the speeding car. He even more casually produced a weapon from the confines of his jacket... before steadying the bike, taking aim and without a seeming thought or care, he fired.

Tom's window shattered, making the man weave dangerously on the road. Francis let off another shot and glass tinkled merrily on the pavement as the entire passenger side glass disintegrated, the jagged pieces spraying Tom's front seat and the man himself.

Mad Dog's men wanted to play as well evidently for several joined in on the fun. Shots from behind shattered Tom's back glass.

"Who are these guys?" she asked in wonderment, having noted several lethal looking guns being discretely deposited back to their original hiding places.

"Veterans." Red laughed his delight as Tom swerved radically, his car not really having the maneuvering capabilities to evade the bikers.

Mad Dog looked to Red for a clue. He, personally, wanted to chase the bastard down and make short order of the guy but Red seemed okay with just allowing him to 'coast'.

But there was a method to such madness. Maurice could see the off ramp fast approaching. Their turn off was just meters away.

'Blue car guy' was already too close to make it safely but with this looney, who knew.

To ensure that eventuality not take place, Mad Dog issued a plan of his own. His guys followed instinctively.

His guys had great instincts.

He took the lead, the large Indian passing even Red's ride easily.

Liz's head swirled from side to side as the loud motorcade zipped up.

The convoy split effortlessly, forming a well armed line on either side of the three lone riders.

Red understood the gesture, picking up speed, barreling down the opening with Francis and Ben fast on his six.

He veered unexpectedly, shooting down the off ramp while he watched Tom Keen miss the same exit entirely.

The man crossed three lanes of traffic, his plan evident. He was going to take the next one and circle back but by then Red would have the advantage. He swore he could hear the colorful metaphors Tom must be cursing, grinning widely.

"Shit..." Liz clenched her thighs tightly, as she and Red accelerated down the ramp. Francis and Ben sped past them, coming to a light hastily, giving an all clear.

Only slightly dropping his speed, Red took the corner wide, causing the woman to squeal her dismay, before he gunned the big engines which moved them effortlessly forward yet again.

A part of the woman felt elation, it was a thrilling ride after all.

"He won't give up so–" before the words left his mouth, Liz's elation had turned to fury.

They got down a couple blocks, suddenly out of nowhere, the blue car came barreling towards them.

Liz had enough! She glanced down, seeing the black metal protruding from Red's holster, she fumbled with the weapon, determination overtaking her.

"Don't even think about it."

"Why not!" she snapped her growing rage.

"Because Francis is coming up alongside us." Red replied dryly. "He's on our side... I think." he quipped. Let's not kill him until he does something to irritate me to the point of doing so, which should be within the hour, if I know him."

Liz craned her head, finding Francis zooming up alongside, blocking sight of her. He aimed accurately, shooting, taking out Tom's front glass.

Tom could be seen dodging the shot and dangerously splintering spray of glass. The car jerked hard to the right, hitting the curb erratically, coming to an abrupt and jarring stop.

"Almost home." Red stated evenly, slowing the pace to a casual speed now.

The entrance to the driveway loomed closer. Dembe, Silas and the guys rushed towards the street. They had heard the shots, always the vigilant group, wanting in on whatever action which might be heading their way.

Red slowed, though not by much as he sped past the gathered throng, all with weapons at the ready.

Ben rolled to a stop, his hand going up in the sign of 'victor'. He turned to a late arrival, another time coming to mind. He gestured triumphantly, his thumbs to his chest, "Winner!" he informed Francis who was just now pulling alongside. He pointed an accusing finger, "Loser!" he gloated.

Francis' mouth fell agape, "This doesn't count, I was shooting at a prick!" He defended his stance. "I should get points for that."

"You do get points." Ben graciously conceded. "But that does not take away from the fact that I am a winner," he pointed to his chest, then back to Francis, "and you are a loser."

Francis wasn't about to take this sitting down, checking a higher court.

"Take it like a man Francis." Red advised stoically, helping Liz from her perch.

She eased from the seat, with a slight grimace, her backside abuzz.

She didn't have time to worry about aches and pains. Fifty rumbling motorcycles were following them into the spacious drive. Silas' head man acted as parking valet.

Silas was more interested in the blue car, replete with numerous bullets holes and minus any window glass whatsoever, limping to a slow crawl outside the gate.

Mad Dog skidded to an artful stop just outside the looming gates, offering a friendly wave to Tom Keen.

"Why aren't they shooting at him?" Liz demanded an explanation.

Red sat his helmet on the seat, turning his attention from the scene.

"I told them not to when we pulled up. This means," He held up his fist, "don't shoot the fucker or I will shoot you... in very painful places."

"But–" Liz was incensed, taking on Francis' viewpoint now that she was safe at home. "Why?!"

Red sighed, "Because Lizzy," he put his hand on his hip, leaning into his weight, "I would like to spend just one weekend with you where there isn't any blood shed... you think we could manage that, just once?"

Liz felt her blood pressure rise the longer he sat there. "Well, that ship has sailed." she stared out across the driveway to find Tom Keen staring back at her with belligerent eyes, the downed guards coming to mind.

Clenching her fists at her sides, she took off at a clipped pace towards the gate.

Francis slid off his bike, quickly heading for the woman, his intent clear. A hand gripped his arm, halting him in his tracks.

The young man jerked a warning glare before seeing the culprit who would dared to intervene in any path Francis chose.

"She has to figure this out for herself." Red reminded himself along with the man at his side. He watched Liz march angrily across the paved stones.

Silas cast a hasty check Red's way then slowly stepped aside to allow Elizabeth towards the perimeter of the property.

"This is something she had to do alone." Red reiterated.

Silas pointed an index finger, thumb cocked, aiming straight at Tom Keen who had exited the vehicle and now stood, waiting patiently for Liz's arrival. Silas 'shot', his eyes saying so much more then the gesture ever could.

Tom sensed the guard meant the promise, for clearly, it was a promise as opposed to a threat.

Francis kept throwing tense looks Red's way, the closer to danger Lizzy walked, he wanted to do... something, anything, but Red knew the value of patience.

In fact, all of them were tense. Though Red tried very hard not to be.

He had protected Lizzy, he had done what he could to bolster her confidence, he had shown her how a gentleman was supposed to act. How someone who truly gave a damn about you... would behave.

Now it was up to Elizabeth to decide how to handle the matter at hand.

Red watched her get ten, fifteen, twenty feet from him...all the while, nearing that fucking gate. He took a calming breath, readjusted his grip on Francis and waited.

The woman slowed, hesitating mid-step, her steps coming to a hesitant halt.

He watched her for a long moment as she glanced around, looking at the sky and trees, then back down at her feet.

Liz was listening to her inner thoughts, trying to push the anger aside. To think rationally as she knew Red would do in any given circumstances, so she glanced about the beautiful tranquility of the grounds.

She looked up at a clear blue sky and fluffy white clouds. The shade of the trees offering a cool respite from the sunny day. She pondered her feet for a goodly spell.

Red released Francis, "Give me a minute." he told the younger man.

Stepping towards the woman, he took in the tense line of her jaw as he came alongside.

The quiet contemplation continued, but the woman had turned her profile, having heard his approach.

"I was having a good day." she said after a long moment. "I was really enjoying it, spending time with you and..." she scuffed her toe along the ground, sighing quietly, "and now, he's come along and ruined it."

Red held his tongue, letting her work through the emotions. She needed to voice her thoughts. He could only hope what direction they might take.

"But it's not just him, is it?" she suddenly realized. "It's me too. I'm allowing him to ruin a perfectly wonderful day."

Red felt the weight that sat on those slender shoulders. Couldn't she have just one damn day to be... normal. To enjoy the world around her without these constant intrusions from those who wanted something from her.

While everyone else was enjoying barbeques, touch football and a day on the lake.

Lizzy was faced with the ex-husband from hell.

"He tried to kidnap me in a park filled with hundreds of people." she fumed. "What the hell?" the small arms flew out from her side, frustration filling her to the very core.

"He embarrassed me..." she snapped her fury. "He hurt your friends!" the blue eyes flashed fire as they sought out Tom Keen.

Her small hands tightened, the slender fingers curling into the palms of her hand.

"The asshole he hit me... again." There was pure venom in her delivery. She touched her cheek line tentatively, the white teeth clenched tightly.

Red could feel the woman boiling with anger and indignation... rightfully so.

"But he lost." she nodded once, taking a few deep breaths, her body losing a little of that fury. "I'm home, I'm safe with Silas... and you."

His heart swelled with a peculiar type of gratitude. He almost choked on the emotions generated by the simple statement.

Tom was sensing something amiss, she was taking too long. He stalked his way to the fence line.

Silas smiled pleasantly and Tom stopped his steps ten meters outside. Silas waved in an incongruous manner, motioning for the man to enter, but Tom was no fool. He could do what he had to from this safer distance.

"He's mad." Liz's tone deadened, having watched the man. She half smiled, "No..." she corrected herself as Tom came a step closer and she could read his face, "he's livid."

Red side glanced the asshole, finding the boy in a fine state, indeed. He was about to blow his top and part of Red hoped he did. Tom's face was reddened, blotchy with growing rage. He was shifting from one foot to the other, repeatedly. He was glaring at Elizabeth. He was steaming mad.

"His job is to take me to his employers and he keeps failing." Liz quirked her head to one side. "Poor baby." she felt nothing for the man in reality, except a certain type of loathing.

Red's mouth lifted minutely as he watched her spine literally take shape.

Tom was confused. What the hell was going on? Why had she stopped? What was Reddington saying but... Tom knew, Red had said very little in actuality. He sensed Elizabeth needed his particular type of encouragement.

He glanced at Silas, chancing another step forward. "Liz, can we talk? Just the two of us?"

"I have two options here." she stated quietly to herself, disregarding everything else for a moment. "I can go out there, thereby continuing this never ending cycle of lunacy," she sighed, the slump in her shoulders returning with a vengeance, "lash out and fight, which obviously will get me nowhere..."

She lifted weary eyes to the man unwaveringly, as was his custom, looking through her.

The air was suddenly awash with the savory mix of barbequing meats, which Silas had been toiling over all morning and the pungent sweetness of blossoming flowers.

She felt a sense of peace, the weight on her shoulders lifting once more.

Her eyes suddenly unfocused, staring sightlessly at the man across the way, an unexpected tinge of excitement tickling at her.

But why?

Her subconscious mind had just made a discovery, but what?

She replayed the last few moments, thinking everything through analytically. Was this Red's type of thought process? How he always seemed two steps ahead of everyone else. Weighing his options...

The weight...

She had felt relaxed, carefree and content all day.

Now Tom was here and her shoulders were tight. Her gut was in knots. She was agitated. She felt suffocated.

She literally felt beaten, both inside and out. Downtrodden.

Tom was a heavy burden that she felt in every fiber of her being.

Her eyes slid shut of their own accord, her senses savoring the unusually clean air, the smell of leather and the comforting scent Red's cologne.

The sudden cognizance hit her full force.

"...Or I can take the high road." she whispered, the strain ebbing in waves.

Red watched the process meticulously.

"He doesn't care about me." she had finally understood, all too well. "He never has." she should be hurt, but she wasn't. Just resigned to the fact, she had wasted too many years. "It's all about the money, the power... the end game."

The words were like music to Red's ears.

"I can keep having a wonderful day, surrounded by my friends." she shifted a serene glance. "I can spend time with you..."

Red's eyes met hers, careful to show no expression, in no way swaying her thought process one way or other.

Would she lash out, confronting personal demons as was her custom, or in this instance... see the futility of such actions.

Liz searched out Tom Keen. Her own expression rather bemused. A slight smile broke through on the full lips.

"I can stay here, with you." she repeated, another thought occurring. "While Tom has to go back and tell his Masters he fucked up again."

Red sing-songed his head, "It won't be the first or last time." he reminded.

Liz nodded agreeably to the statement.

"I am validating his existence by standing here." It suddenly dawned.

The revelation shocked the man even though it was exactly what he had hoped would happen.

Red blinked once, then stilled. It was a universal signal which most, if not all, of the men present picked up on.

Blink once for yes, twice for no.

Dembe smiled gently having seen Raymond's secret little message, one obviously missed by Elizabeth.

But Raymond, having had his say, though silently, was now totally relaxed and tension free.

Elizabeth must have conveyed her decision somehow. Tom felt his power over the woman evaporating into thin air.

He had one last ploy, usually the most effective of all. Ignoring the large looming guard, he actually retreated a few steps, his hands going out to his sides in an almost submissive manner.

His anger visibly diminished, although inside, it still simmered deep. He softened his eyes forcing a sympathetic face.

The man's brows furrowed as the ploy seemed to fall short.

The woman shook her head disgustedly. The chameleon had adapted his skin to his new surroundings. Literally shifting personalities right before her very eyes.

"He thinks I will forget he slapped the shit out of me in front of all those people back at the park."

She supposed that he believed the sad eyes and solemn expression would still work.

Her body tensed, the anger renewed but in the next instance having taken a few deep breaths she was able to let it go.

She smiled gently for Red Reddington.

"I'm hungry..." she announced cheerfully.

She sought out Tom Keen, one last time. She flipped the bastard off, spinning on her heels. She was symbolically turning her back on the fucker, but more importantly that chapter of her life.

Red smiled, all the worries of the incident put behind him as well. It was with great enthusiasm he loudly announced to one and all who had been waiting patiently throughout the entire introspective soul searching.

"Gentlemen, we have food on the grill." he waved to the house, inviting her protectors inside. "Silas, show our guests the way." he deliberately chose the large guard for such a task, glancing back, his expression a solid one.

"I'll be right there, Boss." Silas had other priorities. "After I take care of this guest." he started for Tom who instinctively retreated, his survival instincts well honed.

"Silas." Red's word stopped the man in his tracks.

"Aw, come on!" the suggestion was met with childlike disappointment. "Are you kidding me?" Red was petulantly consulted.

Tom waited the moment out but even now, he was checking available escape routes.

"...Please," Red knew how to get around the anger, "if you wouldn't mind." he extended a hand to the waiting crowd who seemed to take great delight in Silas' predicament. Especially Maurice Morrison.

"You hired me to do a job." Silas wasn't above pouting, Liz was stunned to see. "Why don't you let me do it?" he gritted. "I've had enough of shit for brains here to last me a lifetime and now the little fucker... pardon my language ladies," he was gentleman enough to acknowledge the 'ladies' gathered who all shared a good laugh over the small breach of etiquette.

"Yeah, fuck you, Silas." one particularly out spoken lady called out jovially.

"Later, baby..." Silas dismissed with a peevish wave of his hand. "Daddy's talking business right now." he clearly wanted to return to the subject of disintegrating Tom Keen.

"Daddy," Red implored the use of the colloquial term, "has a job to do, granted," he too, waved an impervious hand, "and that is to make certain that side of beef I purchased doesn't burn to a crisp. If it does, it comes out of your paycheck."

"That's damned gratitude for ya!" Silas asked commiseration from the bikers and got... none.

"Come on man, my old lady is hungry."

"I told her to wait." Silas reminded innocently.

"As if she would want a scrawny scrap of a shit like you." Mad Dog dismissed happily. "Now where's the food?"

Silas was clearly torn. He glanced at the man outside the gate, his massive fists clenched at his sides.

Red waited patiently allowing the man his own introspective soul search.

Mad Dog sighed his understanding, sidling closer to the guard who was fighting his natural instincts.

"Next time..." the large biker murmured soothingly. "You can maim and kill the fucker."

Silas cut stony eyes to the man beside him, the tension radiating off his bulky frame.

"Today is not that day." Maurice murmured.

"I'm starving and you know how I get when my blood sugar drops." Francis ended the stalemate, once and for all, drawing a short burst of amusement from Mad Dog.

"You aren't a fucking diabetic!" Silas snapped.

"I could be." Francis protested. "I've never really been tested." he reminded plaintively. "Are you going to let me pass out? It's up to you to take care of me if I do."

Silas shook his head disdainfully but Francis had caught his attention. "I'd drop your ass in the East River."

"Why drive all the way to Jersey," it was questioned, "when the Potomac is right around the corner."

"Mad Dog..." Francis was crushed, "I'm crushed."

Mad Dog laughed heartily, physically going out, placing an insistent arm around Silas' sturdy neck.

"Come on, sweetheart.," he pursed his lips, planting a sloppy kiss on the disgusted guards scruffy cheek, "I'll let you watch me and my old lady get it on, after you feed us. A man does not live by bread alone... but it helps keep up the stamina."

"What would you know about stamina?" Silas pushed roughly from the man's grasp, swiping at his cheek.

"If you didn't want to feel my soft lips, you wouldn't have allowed it."

"It got you to promise to let me watch you and your old lady, didn't it." Silas goaded.

Red was happy to see the standoff end. While he would actually pay to see Silas take Tom down a notch or two, today was not the day for such things.

Especially now that Lizzy had come to the conclusion she had concerning her former ex-husband.

Today was to enjoy life because those who were not here had given everything to ensure life was lived to the fullest and Red would be damned before he allowed anything to mar such a sacrifice.

"Francis..." Liz was saying as everyone headed into the opened front portals of the stylish glass entryway, "didn't you just finish off two and a half turkey legs? How can you be hungry?"

"He's a growing lad." Red threw a grateful glance Maurice's and Francis' way for the ploy they had used to waylay Silas' intent. "Shooting out glass takes a lot of energy."

"I feel faint." Francis nodded in agreement. "Where's the food?" he followed the delicious aroma drifting around the house, soon disappearing through the French doors which led to the backyard patio and pool area.

"What's he doing?" Liz had sighed lightly, turning to Red, the others filed out noisily to the food and planned entertainment.

Red had hired a live band. Liz could hear them tuning up even now, as the audience grew.

"He just sitting out there... in the car." Red had noted Tom's retreat.

"It must be hot." Liz stated absently. "What with no air conditioning or... windows."

Red shrugged, "Yeah."

"You hired a band?" the woman turned her head to the sound. "How nice!"

"Do we need to talk?"

"Over all that?" she quipped, the ever growing din outside drowning out all else. "Do we?" she quietened a little.

"It can wait." he decided. "Would my lady care to dance?"

The heady beat of that 'Old Rock and Roll' music rocked the house.

She grinned, extending her hand, her fingers grasped by his stronger ones.

"Do you even know how to dance to this stuff?" she doubted.

"Always doubting my abilities..." he tsked, leading her to the French doors which still stood opened wide. "Come on baby, learn from the Master."

Liz chuckled her delight. Was there nothing this guy couldn't do, she wondered.

She stepped out into a beautiful sun-filled day. Friends abounded, good food was plentiful and spread out on carefully laden tables.

It was going to be a wonderful end to an amazing day.

She wasn't about to allow one bad incident to mar such a precious time.

She was broken from her thoughts, a sharp burst of giggles escaping her smiling face as Red twirled her about unexpectedly.

Red had been correct, he could dance. Very much so. There was something incredibly sexy about they way he moved.

Liz was going to have the time of her life.

Her relaxed and tension free disposition said as much...

---

After icing Lizzy's cheek, they enjoyed hour after hour of good food and even better company.

It had been a fun afternoon of animated conversation, laughter and lively music.

The only small incident had occurred when Liz and Dembe had been slighted for slyly feeding the dog and cat table scraps. Both ignored Red's chiding continuing to ensure the animals had a good day as well.

It was well after sundown when people reluctantly started creeping towards the exits. The men started trickling for the door, their ladies in tow, waving away Red's attempt to compensate them for all they had contributed this day.

Best time I've had in years. We should pay you.

Call anytime, Red. Had a great time... in spite of Silas' pouting.

Glad you guys made it safely... as if there was any doubt.

Want us to set up camp out there in case the pecker wood shows his balls?

Francis, boy, you can ride!

"He sure can."' one cute little biker chick intoned.

Red smiled at them as they passed, shaking their hands, sending his gratitude in his own fashion. Intermittent sounds of engines revving filled the night. Liz and Red stood on the driveway as they waved their guests off into a cooling night before returning to the house.

"About today..." he turned instantly, once the room was quiet and he and Lizzy were alone. She had time to let it all sink in and process what happened. "...my behavior."

He smoothed his thumb over her cheek, pleased to find the swelling had gone down, as well as the discoloration. There would be slight bruising, but nothing like the last time that son of a bitch hit her.

"I've had the best day, ever." she smiled softly. "The rest..."

"Must be discussed." he murmured quietly, laying a gentle kiss on the slight wound.

"Is he still out there?" her mouth twisted in wry humor. She hadn't had time to actually check nor had she cared, truth told.

Red shrugged, pulling the radio from his belt. "Is our Mr. Keen still haunting the front gate?"

"He is." Silas confirmed. "I hope you don't mind, but we took the liberty of ordering Chinese for his stay." it was informed. "Joe offered to call a windshield repair guy... does the 'bird' mean 'affirmative'?" Silas asked, allowing his puzzlement. "We're up in the air on that one."

Red chuckled and to his surprise, Lizzy did as well. "Ever hospitable, Silas. Good man."

"Red..." Francis came out from around the corner, followed by Ben, both hesitating in their step. "Are we interrupting? Well, never mind." he continued on, with Ben offering a hesitant scowl for such behavior. "We need to talk."

"It's all right, Francis." Red held his amusement for the boy's rudeness. "What did you need?"

"I'm staying here tonight. So is Ben." he invited them both without further consultation.

"...Any particular reason why?" Red was interested but unconcerned. Francis was always welcome. Seemed he knew as much without actual confirmation.

"In case that dick tries anything." he hooked his thumb in the needed direction.

Red smiled, placing a stilling hand on the tense young man's shoulder. "The boys are watching him. Even ordered food delivered to his car for his stakeout."

Francis narrowed his eyes, "Are we killing him with kindness?" he needed the game plan explained.

"Annoying him, is more like it." Red murmured aside. "Enough about that asshole."

Francis pouted, obviously upset they would not discuss this further.

"Francis, you know you are always welcome here. But I assure you, we're perfectly fine. She's safe." he assured, "If you are to stay here, it is as a guest, nothing more." Red held up his hand to forestall the man.

"You stay, you play. Rules of the house." he stopped any further protest. "There are multiple guards here to ensure that is possible."

"Leave him alone, Red." Liz chided playfully. "You're limiting his play time by not letting him shoot at something."

"Do forgive me, Francis. I wasn't aware I was stifling your creativity." Red replied pseudo-seriously. "I'll tell you what. If Tom should make it through those doors, you may fire at will... as many times as you please, to hell with the cost of ammo."

"Since when do you buy ammo?" Francis frowned his confusion, then smiled happily when he comprehended what Red said. "Well, okay then."

Ben seemed okay with the notion too, smiling as contentedly.

Liz frowned critically, nearing the young man, reaching to touch his bottom lip. "He hit you?"

"If he did I don't remember it?" Francis shrugged. "He hits like a girl. No offense to girls." he inclined his head towards Liz. "You gonna kiss it better?"

Red lifted a brow, surprised by the request even if said in a teasing manner. But he was more surprised when Lizzy stepped, stretching to caress Francis' cheek near the small swelling point.

Red tried to halt the tense resentment filling his head.

The boy had meant nothing by the remark, he was sure.

He would have to learn to curb such unreasonable reactions where Lizzy was concerned.

He knew his reaction was stupid, childish even but he did have to admit, the emotions were within him.

Especially as Francis had unconsciously leaned into the moment, the man's hands coming to land on the shapely hips for a beat.

It was only for counter balance, Red reminded.

Lizzy had to tip toe to reach the corner of the taller man's mouth, to brace her palms on Francis' chest.

There was something disturbingly erotic about the scene that Red disliked intensely. Determinedly he pushed such petty emotions aside.

"Thank you, Francis." Liz mumbled quietly, pulling back from the man, her eyes gentle.

"He's not gonna mess with our girl." Francis winked, returning the cheek kiss in open affection. His mood altered rapidly however. "We're going swimming, you?"

"I'll be in soon." Liz smiled at the man.

Francis and Ben headed to the pool, talking animatedly about their day as they went.

Red put his hand on her lower spine, guiding her physically back to his sphere. "If you go anywhere this week, please give Silas ample time to prepare, all right?"

She shrugged. "I'll try to keep any trips to a minimum, and of course, I will give ample consult time."

"You live your life, Lizzy. Don't let Tom, or Silas for that matter, hold you back." he said, following slowly as she traversed the corridor leading to their room. "I know it may seem a hassle to take Silas with you, but..."

"But what?" she asked, kicking her shoes off, rubbing the insole of her foot. Her leg was beginning to ache again.

"I am in no way saying that you can't take care of yourself, I just..." he reasoned his protectiveness aside.

"I know you aren't insulting or disrespecting me, Red." She entered the closet, dropping her top and bottoms into the hamper, smiling back at the man. "You just worry for my well being... and that's nice." the woman arched a pretty brow, her head gesturing to the bastard outside. "Especially given the alternative."

Red inclined his head, pleased that she was aware he wasn't meaning to slight her abilities.

"For all we know," she said, sliding into her bikini bottoms, "because Tom keeps failing, he may employ assistance."

Red had been thinking along those lines himself, but hadn't said anything so as not to worry her unduly.

"Maybe when I'm back on my feet I might try a jaunt to the store..." she turned her back to Red, holding up the ties of her swim top. The man dutifully tied the bows, planting a sweet kiss on her shoulder when finished, "but right now, I'd just end up getting somebody hurt."

Red's brow furrowed, having not followed along.

"If Tom or even Carver took off with me," she touched his brooding mouth tentatively, kissing his bottom lip slowly, lingeringly, "you'd have the entire Eastern seaboard underground hunting for me." her lips twitched with contained amusement.

"And if people didn't have the answers you wanted..." she trailed off, both knowing where she was headed. "Well, you can be very determined when you wish. Has anyone ever told you that?"

Red wouldn't argue the fact. Because that's exactly what he'd do. "I just want you safe..."

"I know..." she smiled softly, laying a affectionate kiss on his lips. "Giving Silas an extra thirty minutes to prepare for a store run isn't going to kill me, especially, if it doesn't kill him."

"He's a bitch most of the time," she crinkled her nose, "I can just imagine what a grump he'd be if he were shot."

Red recalled one instance the man was shot and had to listen to him bitch for hours, not about the hole in his thigh, but that his cigarette pack had been the real victim in the skirmish.

He leaned into the counter, crossing his arms as he watched her twist her hair up into a bun.

"Sometimes I wonder, why me?" she shrugged almost playfully. "My life is so bizarre. The twists and turns of Fate, hum?" she sought him out.

"Now, are you going to come out and watch us frolic?" she asked, grabbing a towel from the pantry.

Red grinned and pushed off the counter, "I am, yes."

She knew better than to ask if he was joining them. He was not ready for such an eventuality. So she had backed off... when he felt more secure, maybe he might feel more relaxed with the things life had thrown him. But that clearly, was for a later time.

Right now, she was just glad he was coming out to spend time.

---

Lizzy floated in the foam lounge chair, immersed in the warm water of the pool. She lay back comfortably gazing at the night sky.

It was a clear, hot night and the stars were out in the black void of the heavens.

She mentally traced the twinkling outline of the Big Dipper.

She felt one with the Universe.

Outside these walls, a real world awaited but for the moment, it felt wonderful to drift along, her cares muddled and far away.

Vaguely, she was aware of Francis passing on another side of the large pool, his powerful strokes slashing the water effortlessly.

Ben had long since vacated the water, preferring to lounge around, enjoying a drink with Red and Dembe on the adjoining lanai.

"You're going to get 'pruny'. Silas stopped by on his way to join the men under the covered patio area. "And you know I will definitely poke fun at you for the fact."

Liz pulled a face and stuck out her tongue.

"There are so many better things to do with that little fly trap." he chided. "But I'm sure he has taught you all about those by now." he crooked his head in Red's direction.

"Don't you ever think about anything else?" Liz sighed her discontent.

"Not really, no." Silas replied.

"Look at the stars... look at the heavens." she implored, hoping he would pick up on her philosophical mood.

Silas obeyed, scanning God's creative abilities absently. "There are probably all sorts of drones zeroed in on us at this very moment."

Liz allowed her head to fall back, a disgruntled sound escaping. "You are hopeless."

"Really? Because the little blonde morsel I had last night said–"

"Go away..." Liz groaned, "Let me be reflective in peace."

"No, you'll be interested in this..."

"Red!" she pouted. "He's ruining my Zen moment."

Red sighed woefully, knowing that tone. "Silas..." he beckoned, his voice holding an entirely different tone.

The man had done his duty, well pleased he had managed to annoy the woman yet again. He continued on his trek, shortly taking a seat next to Red Reddington.

"You off for the night?" Red knew the man needed solitude. This day was always hard on Silas.

He would spend the next few weeks trying to forget... to not think. The days would pass in a blur of whiskey shots and faceless women.

It was an annual pilgrimage Red had grown to expect and had anticipated, having already made provisions for Lizzy's safety.

Silas was quiet for an unusual moment. He watched Francis slip up under Liz's longue chair before upending the woman into the water.

He chuckled lowly for the antics as Liz arose from the pool like a Grecian Goddess bent on retribution. She smacked Francis hard... very hard... with a large inflatable rubber ducky float Francis had purchased online.

The duck wore cool Ray-Ban's and a devil-may-care attitude which spoke to Silas.

The rubber split with the impact, a high, wheezing sound pitifully escaping the dying duck.

"You killed Buzzy!" Francis gasped his horror.

"Be glad I didn't kill you!" Liz grated. "Though the night is still young..." she growled.

"She keeps hitting me for no reason." Francis had swam to the edge of the pool to explain his predicament. He frowned at the limp pool float in his hand, sighing his woe.

"Yes..." Red nodded minutely. "I saw the entire episode." the man's brow arching.

"Oh..." Francis took the news exceedingly well, lifting his well toned body out of the pool, traipsing across the still warm concrete absently. He jerked a towel off the nearby chairs, "then never mind."

Silas' grin widened.

"It's all right, Silas." Red returned to the previous subject, "we can spare you... take as long as you need."

The man looked to Dembe for some obscure reason.

"We understand, old friend." Dembe inclined his head, the faint accent lending a lyrical quality to his words.

Silas remained quiet... pensive.

"You worried about our little visitor outside?" Red thought he had hit on the reason for Silas' hesitation.

"He's asleep." Silas informed one and all. "Probably resting up for what he thinks will be an eventful night... nah, my guys can handle him."

"Do not underestimate an opponent." Dembe advised regally.

"Just know my own capabilities, especially with one so utterly stupid." Silas explained.

The guard watched Liz rearrange her raft and climb back on, stretching out lazily again. "She needs me."

"She needs... him." Francis pointed.

Red scowled to be the sudden center of attention.

"Hey, boss..." Silas' instincts picked up on the direction Francis was heading. "You want we should vacate so you and your little cock pocket can share some quality time?"

"Quaintly put..." Dembe shook his head slightly, which signified his disapproval.

Silas' good humor had returned, "We know you've been needing a good–"

"Silas..." Red warned. He didn't know if Lizzy could hear the conversation but he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Moment to exchange..." Silas rephrased.

"Bodily fluids?" Francis added helpfully.

"...A cultural reciprocal of ideas and life harmonies." Silas halted, stunned into silence, his own rhetoric amazing even himself.

Dembe scowled deeply at Silas's statement, a noble brow lifting disconcertingly.

Francis went back to his drink for solace. "I liked mine better."

"On that sad note," Ben arose, "I shall take my leave with gratitude for a 'harmonious' day well spent with good companions and... Francis."

Francis waved his drink dangerously about, the liquid rimming the edge. "My room is the one on the right, remember."

"You've only told me fifty times." Ben called back over his shoulder. "What's so special about that room?"

"I can hear almost everything that goes on in Red's room." the man shrugged. "Must be the vent..." he muttered absentmindedly.

"Oh..." Ben nodded his understanding, "you want to be on the alert for the douche bag out front, if anything goes down tonight."

Francis was confused for a beat, "Eh... ok, sure."

It was Ben's turn to be confused.

"Don't." Red sighed heavily. "Best to just let it go... trust me." he advised.

Dembe shook his head disapprovingly once more, his look a stern one for Francis Holbrook.

"What?" Francis staunchly defended himself. "Wouldn't you want to learn from the best if you had the chance?"

"Then you should be rooming next to Dembe." Silas stated quietly.

"Thanks..." Red took umbrage. "Dembe, what is it about you that women find so irresistible?"

"Perhaps it is the fact that he reciprocates the feeling." Silas surmised.

"Why the hell are you so philosophical tonight?" Francis wanted to know.

"She started it." Silas smiled mirthlessly, then sighed. "Yeah, I wonder..." he fell silent.

Red signaled the others to 'let it go'.

"So, Silas, the barbeque was a success, thanks to your incredible 'secret sauce'," he began, "thank you for staying behind and lending Nora a much needed hand."

Silas cast him a bemused look, "I should be thanking you, man."

"What the hell is going on?" Francis was lost. This was the first holiday he had spent with Red and the guys. His friendship with Lizzy had meant an all exclusive invitation this year.

Silas seemed odd... off-kilter. Something was up and Francis hated being kept out of the loop.

"Nothing, kid." Silas arose, his shoulders lacking a little of the usual starch. "Look Red, if it's really okay... maybe I will take a day or two."

He hesitated, "The guys can handle–"

"Silas," Red halted the man, "go, we will be fine."

"Go my friend." Dembe insisted. "I will find you if you are needed."

Silas nodded then exited slowly, his massive frame moving into the shadows of the night with no further word or even a glance back.

Francis was more than confused. "Did I say something wrong... again?"

"No." Red smiled gently at the young man. "He does this sometimes, this is a... difficult time of the year for some."

"Oh, you mean like Christmas." the man instantly cringed realizing he had just inadvertently reminded Red of the time of year that his family had disappeared.

Red acted as if he did not pick up on the fact.

"Survivors guilt." Ben stated, sensing Silas' predicament and Francis'. "Can we do something?"

"Man..." it was Francis's turn to fall silent, for all of two seconds. "I'm sorry, Red. I should learn to keep my big mouth shut."

"He will be fine, he just has some demons to fight." Red had tried, in the beginning to offer any type of assistance he could but he came to the realization, it was something one could not 'help'.

Truth told, each year was proving more and more uncertain. Last Memorial Day, Silas disappeared for two weeks and no one could search him out.

Red used every avenue open to him and still Silas showed up looking like death itself has taken a tumble with the man.

Hollowed cheeks, haunted eyes... he had lost weight, his usually immaculate clothing appeared as if he hadn't changed since his departure. A full growth of grey and white stubble covered a haggard face.

Silas had been through his own particular type of hell.

Red hadn't been certain how to handle the issue but he had taken his cue from Dembe who had greeted Silas as if he had only been gone a few moments.

In the days following, slowly the old Silas started to emerge from whatever cesspool he had been wallowing in.

And every year, thereafter, a ritual of sorts was born. Silas was the epitome of efficiency and grace under fire most days.

Could Red really fault the man for a small lapse? A tiny chink in the shining armor.

He didn't, nor would he ever.

He was only grateful to have the man back or more importantly, that Silas chose to return.

And then life would go on.

Red had demons himself. He understood all about being haunted by ghosts of his past.

He looked out over the pool, pleased to see Lizzy dragging her raft to dock. She had played enough for one night.

Francis crossed, lifting the cumbersome float clear, sitting it alongside the surrounding greenery with his own dead rubber ducky.

Red mused quietly, watching the two converse.

His own demons seemed, for the most part, kept at bay these days and he knew it was because of his new formed association with the woman across the way.

He had never felt so comfortable or natural with another female.

Oh, he had women in the past, of course. It would be unnatural had he not. And he could truthfully say that most, if not all, had satisfied him in bed.

Lately, there was a emptiness inside, however, one he could not label. An illusive something that was missing.

That something, as it turned out, was Elizabeth Scott Keen.

He realized, in effect, that he had just been going through the motions with the others, playing a role expected of him.

When had it all changed?

He smiled as Elizabeth neared, absently arising to seat her in one of the vacant chairs.

He could smell the fresh scent of lavender. She always spread the delicious smelling lotion on after her quick rinse down at the outdoor shower area.

"It's a lovely night." she seated herself next to Dembe. "I thought it might be too hot after today."

Red pulled his attention from the soft curve of her neckline. She liked to be kissed just right there, where the shoulder met the lovely slope.

If he breathed out, warming the flesh, he could usually illicit a soft moan of arousal.

Francis was babbling on and on, some tale about a bar fight gone wrong. Red preferred to look at the vision seated next to him.

Soft tendrils were escaping Liz's carefully arranged top-knot. The silk moved gently in the slight breeze. They framed her face, softening the line.

She laughed musically, the sound like tinkling ice in a fresh glass of lemonade.

Red so enjoyed that laugh. She so seldom... no, that was no longer so. Liz's laughter was a constant these days.

She had grown accustomed to this place, the people who frequented it. She liked them all and was liked in return.

Was she considering this her true home finally?

Red hoped as much. And even though the outside world, at times, intruded upon the sanctuary the man had built for her, Liz still was able to maintain her perspective.

She still had good days, good times. Red would see to it those continued, no matter the obstacles or set backs... or price paid.

The woman's body held a certain mystique for him.

His eyes slid delicately over the curve of her breast. The bikini top had moved slightly allowing him to take note of the darker tan line.

"Are you undressing her with your eyes?" Francis had watched the man now for some few moments, having actually stepped back, allowing someone else to take center stage.

Liz halted her own tale from college days, glancing at the man seated beside her. "He is talking about me, right?" she demanded confirmation.

All attention turned to a slightly disoriented individual.

"I was... musing." Red corrected. "And of course, he meant you. Who else would I be undressing with my eyes."

"Dembe is a fine specimen." Liz reminded tongue and cheek.

"He is that." Red agreed. "But I've seen him sans clothing, the picture was titillating, granted. But evidently I don't swing that way."

"You told Maurice that you swing to the left." Liz had excellent recall abilities.

"I told him I hang to the left." Red scolded.

"There's no doubt in my mind, that he prefers chicks." Francis scoffed. "If he were a Vampire, he would have sucked you dry in seconds, the way he was ogling your neck."

"I never do anything in seconds." Red was positive. "And don't be bringing Vampires or Zombies into this conversation."

"I'm just saying, if we are holding you back from any debauchery you had planned..." Francis magnanimously offered.

"Well I didn't want to upset your delicate sensibilities..." Red sighed.

"What sensibilities?" Liz wanted to know.

"Hey, I'm a sensitive guy." Francis stated for the record. "But I would really like to see you suck her face."

"Why the hell do I feel like I'm back in Marcie Breckman's basement playing spin the bottle?" Red grumbled.

"Would you like to do that?" Francis asked excitedly.

Red's eyes darkened.

"Do I take that as a, no?" Francis asked, slightly deflated, much like his rubber ducky.

"Would you like to go get an ice cream?" Red turned to the woman unexpectedly. His question an earnest one.

"Uh," Liz was a little taken aback, "I thought we were going to have sex?" she checked with Francis to make sure.

"That is a given on any day or night." Red was not adverse to the idea. "But right now, my aspirations run to a more lofty goal."

"Sure...okay." she was flexible. "Is anything open? It's a holiday."

"I know a couple places..." Red assured. "Go get dressed, I'll meet you back here."

A few minutes later they rolled up to the moving gate. The woman looked over her shoulder. The usual guard was conspicuously absent.

"The guards aren't going?" she was flabbergasted.

"No..." He stopped at the edge of the drive, looked right, then sighed as he looked left.

"But, Tom..." she grimaced her disappointment.

"He can't go either." Red replied, as they rolled past the man who sat ostensibly as they passed. "We don't need a third wheel on our date."

She heard Tom's engine turn over as they rounded the first corner.

"No." she shook her head. "He'll just cramp your style." She did secretly wonder how Red would get rid of the pest, however.

Red raised her hand, kissing her fingers, then winked. "Get comfortable, sweetheart." he advised. "It's going to be a bumpy ride."

She settled into the seat, smiling as he pushed on the gas, pulling far ahead of their shadow.

Liz looked in her side mirror as Red took yet another corner, before laying on the gas, furthering the gap between them and Tom.

As she got more comfortable with Red's ability to drive, the man maneuvered his way through the streets like something she had seen in a Steve McQueen movie.

She giggled as they fishtailed around a cul-de-sac. Her laughter increased to pure joy as the man expertly hooked the wheel, sending them into a spin which landed them pointing in the direction they had just come from.

Where had he learned to drive like this?

Red punched the gas, speeding past Tom as he headed directly toward them but at the last minute Red swerved avoiding a possible collision.

Red had a straight shot of several blocks while Tom was left to maneuver a difficult turn around. Taking another tight corner into an alley, Red shut down the lights, leaving them completely in the dark. He spun the car around, quickly backing into a loading dock area... then waited.

Moments later, Tom came creeping by, looking every which way available, before slamming his hands on the steering wheel, in open frustration, obviously pissed.

Red chuckled quietly, his eyes crinkling with his amusement. He shook his head, shrugging slightly over the other man's lack of skills.

He craned his head, following the man's path until Tom's car was out of sight. Red settled back, then searched out the woman beside him.

"Now, I said something about ice cream, didn't I?"

"You did." she grinned, more than impressed with this man's skills.

A short time later, they were loaded down with their sweet treats and back in the car.

"Are we going home?" she asked, licking at the small drips which had already managed their way down the side of her cone.

"I thought we could take a walk along the river?" he suggested instead.

"That sounds nice." she nodded her consent.

Red meandered through the streets, as they quietly concentrated their efforts on the fast evaporating cones.

The spot he chose was quiet, with only a few late night visitors milling about. They leisurely strolled down the decorative brick pavers until arriving at the boardwalk.

"This area is closed." she had noticed the signs as they approached.

"Yes, which is why I chose it." he took her hand, helping her over a particularly difficult slope in the grass which led to a walking path.

She impulsively took a long lick from his ice cream.

"Don't leave it hanging out there, if you don't want to share." she wrinkled her nose playfully.

"If you really are in the mood to lick something..." he let that hang in the air for a spell.

"When you mix them together it tastes like caramel." she ignored his insinuation, her cone held up as a peace offering. Red took a bite, shrugging.

"It does." he agreed.

"I'll have you know, Red Reddington," she did finally allude to his mischievous remark, "that I don't feel comfortable doing that here." he was summarily informed. "It is always an option for later, if you're interested."

"Oh, I'm interested." she was assured.

She squeezed the hand in hers as they walked the deserted path. "It's pretty out tonight." she had taken note.

"It is, nice breeze, quiet." Red agreed, allowing the move away from the more controversial subject.

They walked another couple of minutes, their hands swinging together comfortably. Red gestured to a bench, guiding her to it before sitting.

"You like the water, don't you?" she looked up at him, smiling softly, the warm breeze catching her freed hair.

"What makes you think so?" He was quietly evasive

"The only time you go quiet, is when you're near it." she remarked, just as evasively.

"Was that your polite way of saying, I talk too much?" he prompted.

Liz giggled quietly, slapping his thigh softly. "No." She crossed her legs, turning towards him. "I didn't mean to profile you." she sought him out, suddenly embarrassed for some reason, "you just seem so at peace... so something." she sought the word.

"I like the sound of the water." he quelled her awkwardness. "I find it soothing." he replied softly. "Much more tranquil than me blathering on about something trivial."

"You never blather." she disagreed with his assessment. "Do you miss it?"

He looked out over the glassy sheen of the water, staring at the lights shimmering in the dark ripples off in the distance.

"Miss what?"

Liz sighed heavily, signifying he had said something amiss.

"I was never one to get much sleep. A couple hours at most." he conceded, actually answering the question. "Sometimes... at night, I would go out on deck and listen to the water, watch the swells."

He held out his ice cream silently amused when she didn't hesitate to accept the offer.

Red stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning more comfortably into the bench. "If we were lucky, we would be moving off into an approaching storm."

"Why is that a good thing?" it hadn't sounded like it to her.

"The seas were more alive." there was a wistfulness to the man's manner.

Liz watched Red's shoulders loosen slightly, "The sea spray, the clean air, the heavy wind." his eyes fluttered shut, his chin lifting as though he could actually feel the salty mist on his face. "It was very relaxing."

"It helped you sleep?" she didn't want to disturb the moment.

"... Yes."

"You do realize you'd be a pirate back in the day." she munched happily around her cone, the image not at all disagreeable to her way of thinking.

Red guffawed quietly, "Oh, most certainly." he chuckled. "I do love getting my hands on some good... booty."

Liz tried, she really did, to not laugh. "What a filthy scoundrel." she tsked. "Ravishing those innocent virgins."

Red grinned his amusement, "I really need to read more of your books." he shifted, laying his arm along the back of the bench, allowing Lizzy to inch closer to him. "Are you cold?"

"A little bit." she held up her half eaten cone as to the 'why' of the matter.

"You want to go now?"

"Not yet..." she begged off.

It was so rare they had quiet time. Just the two of them, where he talked about his past, especially. She wasn't ready for it to end just yet.

Red gestured her closer, wrapping his arm around her then patted his thighs. "Put your legs over."

Liz scooted closer, settling her legs over his, instantly feeling his heat as his hand rubbed against her legs, warming the surface. He fell silent for a moment, getting lost in his thoughts.

"You're thinking." she popped the last of her ice cream in her mouth, sighing her disappointment. His half eaten cone entered her line of sight.

"If I don't eat it, it will just go to waste." She took the treat, diving in. "This is one leftover I can not save for Francis."

Red chuckled softly allowing the moment to pass. He returned his attention to the dark murky waters for a goodly while.

"What did you say to Jack?" he prompted.

"I... thanked him." she replied just as pensively. "For his service... for taking care of you."

Red tilted his head, looking at her, then nodded. "I'm glad I got to spend as much time as I did with him."

"Was he..." she hesitated, unsure if it was a direction she should take, "was he dating anyone?"

"He was, yes." Red recalled the dark haired woman who visited... afterwards. She had been crying at the kitchen table with his mother. It was a visual he would never forget.

Jack had been a skirt chaser for his first two tours. Probably fucking everything he could in a hundred mile radius to keep from becoming truly enmeshed in a relationship.

But after his second tour, he had met her... Rachel.

Having been in Jack's shoes himself, Red knew Jack figured, having survived two tours of duty and not intending to re-up for another, he could safely get seriously involved with someone.

Rachel was from a military family and understood the call of duty...

Red vaguely remembered hearing Jack talking to his father about asking the woman to marry him. Red always wondered if Jack had actually gotten around to posing the question?

Because shortly afterwards, Jack had received word that a buddy of his had tripped a booby trap and lost not his life, but he had lost the use of his limbs.

In retaliation, Jack impulsively re-upped, intent on nothing more than payback.

While Rachel wasn't happy, she had understood. She had stood by him.

Red recalled every time she came over to the house. She would often share a letter from Jack before her and Red's mother would set off to the kitchen, to bake Jack cookies or some other treat.

Only in this case, the third time had not been a charm.

As the year had slowly dragged on, Rachel had stayed faithful, determined and supportive.

And then they got the news.

Red carried that with him, even to this day.

Jack had been just twenty eight days away from his "wake up call" and died. And it had crushed Rachel.

They had been so close to sharing their lives, making a family...

And it was ripped away in the blink of an eye.

"Did she ever marry, do you know?" Liz's voice seemed far away, distant.

Red was shocked to realize, he had just voiced all of that, out loud.

"I lost touch with her. Or maybe, she moved on." Red shook his head. "I really don't remember. I assume she did. She was only twenty four."

"I don't know how she..." Liz stared off into the water herself, "it must have been incredibly painful."

"Time heals all..."

Liz thought the man sounded rather aloof for a second, but the truth of the matter was, he was right.

In the short few weeks without Tom invading her space, she felt completely different about the man. She felt differently about a great many things...

But now she saw how unhealthy and damaging their relationship had been and all she wanted now, was for Tom to leave her alone.

She wanted something more for her life than... she didn't want to dwell on this anymore.

Liz wiped her hands on her napkin, symbolically washing her hands of the mess.

Enough.

"I'm glad you brought me." she leaned into the man, hugging him.

Red craned his head, laying a soft kiss on her brow in response.

"I've had a nice time." she glanced up, kissing his cheek.

"So have I." And he had. It was so simplistic an outing. But he could tell, Liz meant what she said. She had just enjoyed their time together.

It was quite a change from Madeline Pratt say, who always said she could never be truly happy if not surrounded by luxuries of every sort, lavished with gifts from admirers and especially if there were not a new car sitting in her garage every Christmas morning.

He looked over at Lizzy, his mouth lifting slightly. "Actually, I've had one of the best days of my life."

And then, her mouth was on his.

As a man, Red really enjoyed that she made the first move. Not only because she was comfortable enough to do so, but it solidified that they were a couple.

The man's large hand slid under the heavy, dark tresses. His fingers carding through the soft strands before settling her small head in his palm. He felt her absently playing with a button on his vest.

Edging closer to him, Liz sighed happily as the hand on her rib cage slid upward, the large palm encompassing her breast

"Ahem." a throat cleared behind them, as a flash of light skirted over their bodies. "A little old too be necking in public, aren't you folks?" a man in a officers uniform was suddenly looming over the pair.

"Why is everyone disparaging about my age." Red winced when the man's high beam flashlight waved his way, he was more disconcerted by the fact he had not heard the man's approach.

"He means..." Liz drawled, "we're just having a date night, Officer." she explained, then flushed, "not that we would have... I mean..."

Red folded his arms, settling back on the bench allowing the woman to work her way out of the situation herself.

The officer jerked his head back, enlightenment setting in.

"Ah, getting away from the kids." that concept he could understand.

Red patted Liz's arm consolingly, holding his amusement. "Our little Francis just never gives us a minute alone, does he, honey?"

Liz dropped her face into her hands, hiding her embarrassment.

"He tells us continuously that we kiss, every five minutes." Red stressed the words, accentuating them with an eye roll.

The officer chuckled, "My little boy does the same thing." he clicked off his flashlight, letting it hang by his side. "Only, I get the gagging face along with it."

Red chortled, truly amused by the statement. "And of course, they want to know why you kiss mommy so much."

"If they only knew." the other man winked playfully. "This section of the park is usually closed this time of night, but..." he checked the surrounding area to see if other offenders were about, "I'll let you slide, just this once."

Red tightened his hold on Liz, patting her knee. "Thank you, this is our first date night out in weeks."

"Have a good night." the officer smiled, then walked off, only to hesitate a few steps away. "Just for future reference, there's a area off down a mile or so," he pointed in the proper direction, "a thicket that is sort of a designated adult only spot that we meticulously avoid."

"Oh my God..." Liz whispered into her hands.

"Thank you very much for the information Officer Peters." Red replied seriously having noted the man's name plate earlier.

Red watched the man get to the corner of the building, then look back at them, throwing up a quick 'thumbs up' to Red before turning the corner, vanishing from sight.

He laughed quietly, then out right chuckled when Lizzy groaned into her hands.

"I haven't been caught necking since the tenth grade."

"Well, you know..." Red teased in his own manner, "they say history repeats itself."

She tsked, swatting him playfully. He arose his humor still high, offering his hand.

They walked the short distance to the car, hands clasped, until they reached the passenger side door.

"So, you want to go neck in the car, baby?" he stared down at her half hoping she would take him up on the ridiculous notion.

"Not that it doesn't sound like a thrill." she rolled her eyes as the man opened the door for her. "Couldn't we just go home and make love in our own bed?"

"That does sound more enticing than having a gear shift rammed up my ass." the man conceded.

"Or mine..." she mentioned in passing.

Red hesitated to close the door a moment, visualizing Lizzy riding him in the car, naked. Suddenly wondering if he had grown a touch of auto-erotica.

"Why are we not doing this again?" he questioned.

"Because we have a big comfortable bed awaiting us at home." she hoped that was the reason.

Red nodded quickly, "Right, yes."

He closed the door, walking to the driver's side. After situating himself, he hesitated visibly.

"Don't tell Silas and the guards about that spot." it was advised. "I have to wonder how much bail money I would be out if they knew."

"Damned peeping perverts." she was in total agreement with his assessment.