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)

97. Conflict

May 31

The silence in the car was permeated with a tension so thick, one could cut it with the proverbial knife.

Francis glanced over to his companion. Silas' jaw line was working prophetically.

The man checked on the woman who sat in the back seat, hunched by the driver's side door. Liz looked miserable and really quite vulnerable. Her hand clutched the handle in a death grip as if by sheer force of will she could make herself instantly transport to Red Reddington's side.

Francis knew, the longer Silas kept quiet, the bigger, louder and more dangerous the explosion would be when it happened.

He searched for some logical, safe way to gently lead the giant of a man to an articulate, rational means by which to vent the...

"What the hell were you thinking?" the loud, vicious accusation literally boomed in the still of the car.

Even Francis had started at the decimal level of the explosive impact.

"I was thinking," Liz had come back instantly, sitting bolt upright in her seat, "that one of you idiots should have listened to me and acted upon the assumption that someone was going to be seriously hurt."

She pointed to the slowly moving vehicle they followed and had now for some agonizingly slow minutes. "Seems a woman's intuition isn't always something to be dismissed so easily, huh!"

"Maybe no one would have gotten hurt if you had kept your sweet ass at home, where you should have kept it!"

"Hey!" Francis took up the fight. "Red's injury happened before she got there, you can't lay that on her!"

Silas jerked his head to the man. "You keep the hell out of this." he grated. "I'm dressing down one of my men... it's none of your affair."

Both Liz and Francis' expressions showed their confusion to the odd statement.

"Red's injury is bad enough. Your ass could be laying alongside him... how do you think that would fly with him?"

"I hate to remind your sorry ass," Liz flared incandescently, "I am an F–"

"I know what the hell you profess to be!" Silas snapped right back, cutting the sentence short, "Should I tell you just how much that means to me?"

Liz fell silent, well knowing the man's views on governmental training methods.

"It means shit!" Silas raged on, his hands tightening on the steering wheel even more so.

"I am more than capable, damn you!" Liz yelled at the man's averted profile. "Red is going to have to realize the fact... and so are you!"

Francis was confused, "Red's just trying to protect you, Lizzy. You mean a great deal to him... and us."

Liz's frustration grew, "I know that but–"

"Can you really fault us for not wanting anything to happen to you?" Francis reasoned. "Is that so very wrong? This life," he sighed, "...our work, you should never have been subjected to it."

Francis worried for the woman. She wasn't trained to handle what happened today. It was pure luck she had survived.

"Stop coddling her." Silas gritted.

"He's not coddling me you gargantuan ape!" Liz took up for her friend, "He's being kind... maybe you should look that word up since it doesn't seem to be in your vocabulary."

"Fuck 'kind'," Silas waved an impatient hand, "kind will get you killed."

"Fuck you!" Liz countered. "News flash, I don't need Red's approval... or yours. I will make my own decisions in life and to hell with both of you if you don't like it!"

"You hesitated!" Silas accused, turning half way in his seat, his eyes flashing at her, "that fucker was playing you." he had come up at the exact time as Liz's confrontation with the man in the Gallery. He had seen the hesitation.

"If you mean the guy in the Gallery..." Liz defended her actions, "I thought he might be one of Francis' men but in the end... who shot whom?"

Francis was impressed with the grammatically correct phrasing, "You shot someone?"

"And if you were there," she ignored Francis altogether, "why didn't you shoot him?" Liz accused.

"I was too fucking far away as yet and would have tagged you, but my eyesight is still perfect." Silas too ignored the man. "The point being, why did you put yourself in such a predicament to begin with?"

"I don't have to answer to you." Liz grated, "I am a grown woman who is perfectly capable of making decisions on my own."

Liz knew she was being irrational but Silas had put her on the defensive. She once again, for the second time this day, found herself fighting back against superior odds.

The car pulled to a halt, the vehicle in front having paved the way.

Liz opened the car door, her temper high. "Consider yourself," she hesitated only briefly, her eyes flashing fire, "off the fucking payroll. I will speak to Red... inform him we no longer see eye to eye."

Francis' mouth fell agape. He cringed at the power of the slammed door.

The silence was deafening inside the interior of the vehicle. Both men watched Liz hurry to Red's side, or at least, as close as the medical team would allow.

Francis pulled in a deep cleansing breath. He could fell the coiled tension in his companion's large frame.

"She didn't mean that."

"She meant it." Silas still gripped the steering wheel but his body relaxed somewhat. "I can't say that I blame her."

Francis chanced a quick glance at the stoic profile.

The silence returned but it wasn't so tense somehow.

"...You don't know what I felt," Silas' voice was so low, Francis had to strain to hear the muttered words, "seeing her wrestling with that fucker, knowing that there was no way Dembe or I could reach her in time."

"What fucker?" Francis was in the dark.

"Cheung." Silas replied quietly. "And then there were those other two assholes. Standing there, a breath away from... ending both her and Red."

Francis' brow furrowed deeply, "W-What?"

"You should have seen her, Francis," Silas shifted a glance, "she was beating the hell out of that bastard, fighting like a banshee," he smiled slowly, "kicking, clawing, punching out... just like I taught her."

Francis could sense the pride Silas felt, "Then why the hell are you riding her ass so hard if she–"

"Because it could have gone the other way." Silas reminded quietly.

Francis sat back, drained in more ways than one. The pain of the wounds was filtering through the adrenaline.

"So she depletes the clip in her weapons," Silas chuckled, "picks up a candlestick and threatens to beat the shit out of the guy."

Francis smiled listlessly. Yeah, that sounded like the Liz he knew.

The silence returned for a long beat, each man to his own thoughts.

"She shielded Red with her own body." Silas was still impressed with the gesture.

Francis rubbed his eyes wearily, watching the other guards gather outside the large workshop in which the operating room had been set up.

Men milled about aimlessly.

This was the hard part, after the fight... taking stock of the injured, fighting for the will to regroup...to continue on.

"And then the little shit fires my ass..." the guard chuckled his amusement before turning his attention elsewhere.

"We have to get you some help." Silas could ponder the 'what if's' of today's events... later.

"I'm good." Francis waved the issue aside, "let's go see how Red–"

"Red is being handled." Silas waved Dembe over. The man had exited the workshop surveying the area critically.

Silas shoved his weight out of the vehicle, crossing around to the passenger side.

Several men passed, one limping visibly. Silas noted the blood from a stomach wound. Two of his men rushed to the guy's aide after Silas waved them over.

"Come on, cowboy," the guard offered a sturdy shoulder. Dembe helped Francis from the car, "you look like you've been rode hard and put away wet."

"Sounds like a good Friday night to me." Francis fought the wave of dizziness descending, holding listlessly to each man's support. He pulled up short, gripping their shoulders, "By the way, what the hell does that mean? I've always wondered."

"He has lost a lot of blood." Dembe pointed out the obvious.

"Can the suit be saved?"

Both men looked at the earnest expression on Francis' face.

"No." they answered in unison.

Francis' face fell.

Minutes later, they were filtering through the injured, seeking medical personnel, which was immediately forthcoming.

Francis watched forlornly as his beloved clothing was shredded in order to tend his wounds as they were revealed to capable hands.

Silas fixated on the larger plastic wrapped area in the center of the structure in which they had taken refuge.

He could make out cloudy figures moving in almost ghost like vagueness, all hunched over a surgical table.

He had been here so many times before in his life, hell... a couple times, Silas himself, had been behind that vague wall of polyethylene.

Red's medical team gave new meaning to the term, mobile surgical units.

And Kate Kaplan...

The small, slender frame was unmistakable, standing off to one side, so gravely vigilant.

What could one say about such loyalty, such dedication. Grace under pressure... that was Mr. Kaplan.

And then there was Elizabeth Scott...

Pacing the perimeter, eyes never leaving the hushed going-on's behind that closed off area.

Silas wanted to go to the woman. To comfort her as Red would want.

He had blown that possibility big time.

"Francis," Silas felt the weight of his responsibility to Red Reddington, "you have to go make it right with The Hot Head."

Silas motioned to Liz's vicinity.

"Oh," Francis sought out the guard's meaning. He could read the stress, anxiety and fear on Lizzy's face from here, "...sure."

"Not now, you idiot." Silas put a staying hand on Francis' shoulder, "after you feel better."

"I feel all right." Francis was once again confused.

"No." Dembe was always the voice of reason. "I will stay with Elizabeth until the doctor," he motioned to the man attending Raymond's wounds, "has finished. And then perhaps..."

"I think she needs someone now." Francis sensed as much.

"I will go." Dembe exchanged enigmatical looks with Silas. Dembe walked away, his destination clear.

"You have to make this right with her, Silas." Francis implored. "You were wrong to–"

"No, I was not." Silas stated bluntly. "And she knows as much, but... yeah, I will make it right, kid. But in my own time."

Francis wasn't happy with the words, clearly.

"She needs to focus on Red right now anyway," Silas motioned to the strangely quiet area behind the plastic, "as we all should."

There was no argument there. Francis sat back, allowing the poking and prodding. He steadfastly ignored the pain.

All eyes were fixed on the make-shift operational section of the high structure they occupied.

It would be a long night.

---

Pushing at the fog and pain, Red struggled to make sense of the garbled mess permeating his senses.

His ears felt as though they were stuffed with cotton, his head held below water. Everything was hazy, muffled and jumbled.

Struggling to clear away an obstruction he could not see, he waded through a murky void. It seemed like hours until the muted sounds gradually became more clear. As he broke the surface of the suffocating liquid, he heard Elizabeth's hushed voice.

Her voice was like a soothing balm, even his pain seemed to lessen. His soul rejoiced for he suddenly realized:

She was okay...

He had vague recollection of an already intense firefight reaching a vicious climax.

He had grown tired of the situation that he and Francis had found themselves in. He had made a reckless unnecessary move.

He had promised Lizzy he would be careful... what had he been thinking? But he had never once thought that Lizzy's arrival would tip the scales to ending it all.

Even through the confusion and disorientation, one thing was perfectly clear. That bastard, Cheung, had tried to take Lizzy from him.

Though the thought of opening his eyes was not an activity he relished in the least, Red needed to see her. He needed to assure himself that Lizzy was truly in one piece.

He willed his eyes to open but the lids were extremely heavy. Was he medicated?

Why was there so much... pain?

"I don't know what's right or wrong anymore." Liz was saying, "I had to go, Francis. I couldn't just–"

"It's okay." Francis replied.

"Silas is mad at me for getting Nora involved in the whole debacle." Liz was upset.

Red disliked intensely when she was upset...

"I wasn't thinking clearly, he's right."

"I don't know if there is a right or wrong to this issue, Lizzy."

Thank God for Francis. Red heard the shuffle of a sliding chair.

Where was he? It was warm here, warm and pleasant.

It couldn't be hell at least, although his head felt like any movement would sever it from its rightful resting place, granted.

"When we care about someone, we sometimes react as our hearts dictate." Francis was continuing, "Only God can say if any decision we make under those circumstances is a good one."

Red lay perfectly still. He wanted to keep his head. It was a good decision of which God would approve, he was certain.

"Silas has a lot of responsibility on his shoulders," Francis could see both sides of the issue, that was what made him so good at what he did, " and he has a short fuse."

Liz hugged herself closer, "How did it all go so wrong?" she felt miserable, "It's my fault... again!"

Red's pain spiked. What the hell was going on? He had to get back. He couldn't stay here.

Haze drifted before his eyes, a grey mist... he had seen this before.

Where? It was so familiar.

The wheels kick and the winds song
And the white sails shaking
And a grey mist on the seas face
And a grey dawn breaking...

Red's pain receded a bit.

I must go down to the sea again...

Of course. He remembered now.

He had been at sea. A cold November's day. How bracing. How invigorating.

What a wonderful day that had been.

The mist thickened and for one blissful moment, Red had welcomed its embrace.

Pain awaited on the horizon of clarity. It was so good to simply... stop the fight.

"It's not your fault, Liz." Francis' voice floated far in the distance, "Silas might have overreacted a bit but it's only because he gives a shit about you. If you got hurt, what would that do to his relationship with Red?"

"I love you guys for caring, I do!" Liz did, "But, you have to get it, Francis... if I'm going to be a part of Red's world I have to learn how to navigate inside it."

"It's hard for a guy," Francis could say it so eloquently sometimes, "to step back, it's ingrained in our make-up. We don't mean to be Neanderthals, Liz."

What had gone wrong there? Were Silas and Lizzy at odds?

Red tried to piece the images together.

"I know that." the soft voice was speaking again.

Red missed that voice.

"I don't know how to make it right," Liz sounded so sad, "saying I'm sorry just isn't going to do it this time, is it."

"Don't worry about it."

"I do worry." Liz was clearly doing so. "He won't really leave, will he? He knows I was just... angry... hurt."

"Silas has a hide like a water buffalo." Francis dismissed. "If he was going to bail, he would have already split."

"Maybe I can talk to Dembe, enlist his help?"

"If you want but I think Silas will come around when he thinks the smoke has cleared." Francis said. "You were pretty pissed, Liz. Give him some time to figure out his next move."

A small hand closed over Red's fingers, "I w-wish Red was back. I wish he would just open his eyes. If he was awake... everything would be just fine again."

Lizzy needed him...

There had been such a poignant trace in the softly whispered request.

The gentle touch electrified him. He urged his fingers to move... close over the small, delicate fingers.

"Francis!" Liz's voice held excitement, "Francis, come here!"

"What?" Red could hear her movement. He desperately tried to open his eyes. "What's going on?"

"I felt it–" Liz's hands gripped his frantically now. "I know I did! Red?"

That delicate, light, evasive fragrance engulfed him... Lizzy's scent.

He fought harder.

"Red please!" that little voice wavered with emotion, drawing him closer and closer to the surface, "Open your eyes."

Struggling hard against his body's demands, Red slit his lids, closing them tightly in the next instant from the sharp, harsh glare.

"Lower the lights, Lizzy." Francis suggested as he neared.

"Red, are you okay? Can you," Liz tried to keep the tears at bay, "...hear me?"

"...Lizzy." the parched, raspy tone croaked out unbidden.

He would kill for a drink of water.

"Thank you, God," Liz's whispered gratitude filtered into Red's being, "... thank you."

She hugged Red's body lovingly, careful not to jostle the man. "I'm here." her voice trembled.

Leaning in, Liz nuzzled the rough shadow of his jaw. She had never been so happy to feel the scruff against her delicate skin. He was warm, breathing... alive.

"I know you hurt," she whispered, "what do you need? An ice pack? Pain pills?"

"Some Ovaltine." Red mused quietly.

Francis chuckled his relief. "Already quoting old movie lines." he checked with Liz. "Damned good sign if you ask me."

Liz's chuckle was more a gasp of release of all the horror of the last few hours.

Red focused his eyes in the dimmer light, "Is it over?"

"A few hours now." Francis supplied the necessary info. "Dembe and Silas are cleaning up the mess."

Red refused to move his head. He had made some sort of deal with God about that... he didn't want God to renege by not holding up his end of the bargain somehow.

"...Lizzy," he lifted his fingers cautiously, "are you there?"

"Where else would I be, you idiot?" she hastily wiped at her dampened cheek, catching his fingers instantly.

Forcing his eyes open, he found the darkened strands of her hair and the curvature of her cheekbone in his line of sight. She drew back, smiling down at him.

"It's about time." she blinked, brushing quickly at the tear spotted lashes.

"...Francis?" he searched out the kid.

"Like a bad penny..."

Red glanced up, finding the man hobbling into view, looking pale but relieved. "I always turn up... sometimes worse for wear." he granted.

Scanning the area, he frowned when he saw it was only them in the room.

"Everyone is fine, except you." Liz assured the man. "Now, what do you need," she repeated, "ice, heat, pills... or all of the above?."

"...Yes." Red murmured quietly.

He knew there was more going on in his skull than the migraine, but knew if he lessened that, he'd be able to function. Think more clearly. And having more than enough of them over the years, he had become quite adept at getting the pain down to a bearable level as quickly as possible.

Easing from the bed to keep the shaking to a minimum, Liz set off for the items, glad of something to do finally besides... wait.

Trailing the woman to the door, Red shifted his eyes to the other occupant.

Francis said without preamble, "You scared the living hell out of her."

"Long as she's alive." he said, his voice hoarse. "Casualties?"

"On our side?" Francis quirked a brow. "None, believe it or not. A lot of injuries but all manageable."

Red breathed his relief. He was so hoping against hope that would be the case. It was too soon after Kevin... especially for Lizzy.

"Cheung on the other hand..." Francis shrugged mentally because it hurt too much to shrug his shoulder.

"...I hope that son-of-a-bitch is already in hell."

"You blew that fucker away," Francis confirmed Red's hazy recollection, "and in spectacular fashion too." there was a hint of admiration present, "Leave it to you to get a center head shot with double vision, you damned show off."

Red dismissed the praise, too tired to do much else. "Are you... are they bad?" he motioned to Francis' bandaged appendages.

"No, just annoying." Francis flexed his arm, wincing. "Water?"

"Hell yes," Red was grateful, "mouth feels like I've been in the Sahara a week."

Francis grabbed the bottle, bending the straw, "Don't move.." he warned.

Sipping the water slowly, Red hoped like hell it stayed down because there was nothing worse than retching when your head was on fire. Keeping perfectly still, he pushed the straw away. Gathering his strength and willpower, he readied himself for what would likely come next.

"Nausea?" Francis asked sagely, watching the other man's face carefully.

"Uh hmm." Red closed his eyes fighting the sensation.

Francis got a trash can, waiting. "You owe me a fake fern, by the way." he informed, then explained further when Red's brow furrowed with open confusion. "You puked on one at my house."

"My apologies." he adjusted himself on the pillow, grimacing, "Don't remember that part."

"How convenient." Francis stated his amusement.

Red's head pounded relentlessly. He was having trouble focusing his vision.

"Man, I thought you had bought the farm today, Red." Francis' concern laced his demeanor. "There was so much blood..."

"Guess it wasn't my time." Red remarked off-handedly. "...Too bad for you, hum?"

Francis' brow furrowed, "What?" he questioned the statement, genuinely caught off-guard by the veiled coldness behind the words. "What the hell does that mea–"

Red rubbed his temples with ever increasing pressure, his thumbs and fingers attempting to drive the hideous pain away by sheer force of will.

"You'd have a clear path," Red grimaced painfully, "to Elizabeth without me... in the way."

Francis studied the man diligently, "You had better be delusional." he grated, "Is that what you think?" he accused bitterly, "Is that what you've always thought?"

Red shook his head to clear it, grunting savagely for such an unwise move, "No," he whispered harshly, "I don't know why... I said that."

Red hung his head, his palm bracing his forehead. His flesh was hot... did he have a fever?

What made him say such a thing out loud?

"You're good for her."

And I am not.

The thought continued to plague the man. "She risked her life today... she can't keep doing that."

A clarity. Finally. She can't keep doing that.

"Is that why you continually come up with this ridiculous shit?" Francis stepped closer to the bed. "Are you trying to push her away? Is that the plan?"

"...No." Red grimaced, lifting his countenance angrily.

"Really?" Francis was skeptical. "What other reason could there be? Just tell her..." it was challenged, "you think she would stay one second where she's not wanted?"

"I do want her, you son-of-a-bitch!" Red raged. "This isn't about–"

"Then you tell me what it is about!" Francis snapped.

Both men halted the exchange, both hearing the sharp click of blunt, practical heels coming down the outside corridor.

Francis' anger was masked instantly but his body was filled with unexpressed animosity.

Red blinked the threat of blackness aside, taking in copious amounts of cleansing air.

Mr. Kaplan had slowed her crisp steps, having entered the room, her shrewd gaze settling on one man then the other.

"Well..." she shifted knowledgeable eyes, "Raymond... you are back among the living, I see."

"Unfortunately, he's brain damaged." Francis stuffed his hands into his pockets turning aside.

Kaplan noted the strident remark.

Red wondered on Lizzy's absence. What was taking her so long?

Hopefully, Lizzy would keep Kate's most evil torture to a minimum, since she at least was too happy right now that he wasn't dead. Not that Kate wasn't pleased, she just had different ways of showing it.

Red felt a cool swab on his arm, a needle prick and sudden warmth spreading through his body.

"You'll feel better in a minute." Kate said brusquely. "Or at the very least, like you won't toss your cookies."

"Mr. Kaplan..." Liz scolded happily, breezing back into the room, her mood carefree and optimistic now that Red was awake and functioning, "why are you so mean to him?"

"So maybe he'll take care and not do something so incredibly stupid again." Kate took hold of his arm, jostling the man as she took his blood pressure.

Red needed to gauge the extent of his injuries, trying desperately to ignore the fact that gentle jostling had sent wave after wave of nauseating pain throughout his system.

"How bad?" he grated the words.

"... You tell me." Kaplan's pinched lips quirked irritably for she was clearly a bit perturbed.

"Oh, God..." Red sighed melodramatically, "not the 'who is president' ordeal." he pleaded. "I'm already close to purging the contents of my stomach."

"Are you a Republican?" Kate quirked a brow. She had never been quite certain of the man's affiliations, curious by nature, sometimes to a fault, she realized.

"Why pick the side of a crumbling empire?" Red evaded purposely, if only to irk the small female.

Francis was instantly concerned in spite of his present annoyance with the man.

"Is he talking about Rome?" he directed the question to a bemused Elizabeth Scott. "Ask him what year it is."

Kaplan rolled her eyes.

Liz scowled, "You ask him."

"Tell Francis," Red sighed more than heavily, "I referred to the fact that history repeats itself." he snapped. "And tell him, I think he's a twit!"

Liz switched her interest from one man to the other.

Francis gladly returned to his brooding.

"Is there something wrong?" Liz examined both men critically.

Kaplan extracted a stethoscope from her little black bag, "You're hiding something." she knew Reddington too well.

"I am not." the man grumbled.

Kaplan's keen gaze swept the prone man, "Do you know where you are?" she waved an imperious hand.

"I'm at home." Red shook his head at the absurdity of such a question.

Liz beamed her pleasure for the remark, that he considered this... home.

"Who's the twit?" Kaplan probed stalwartly, motioning accordingly.

Red locked eyes with Francis, both men refusing to lose the mood of the day.

"And her?" Kate hooked a thumb to the woman standing beside her.

Red's eyes softened, "...My Lizzy."

"Your Lizzy?" Francis goaded purposely, enjoying Red's flash of icy anger.

"What the hell is going on?" Liz demanded. "Francis are you intentionally trying to upset Red?"

Francis remained moot on the subject, his mood still sullen.

Red bit his lip in an unconscious display of anxiety.

He knew Francis' given name but for the life of him, he could not remember the guy's last name... nor could he recall Elizabeth's, which was even more disturbing.

What the hell...

"What happened to me?" he demanded answers.

"You don't know?" Kaplan wasn't going to help him in this instance he sensed.

He closed his eyes, welcoming the blissful silence. If he could just rest a–

Kaplan rattled the pill bottle she had extracted from her bag, "Stay with me."

Raymond winced, "...Jesus, Kate," he fought the agony, "a Dominatrix has nothing on you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere." the woman administered pain meds through the IV line. "Are you having memory issues? Not to worry if so... I would be shocked if you weren't."

Liz gently placed a heat pad beneath the man's nape and an icepack on his forehead.

Red sighed his relief, "...Yes." he nodded his gratitude, instantly regretting the action, a grunt escaping his throat.

"How did you get here?" Kaplan needed to gauge a few things herself. She crossed her arms, clearly willing to stay as long as it took to secure answers.

"Cheung." Reddington snapped. "Leave me alone woman. I want to die in peace."

Liz's face allowed her shock and dismay, "Don't say things like that."

Kaplan was less affected. "What exactly are you feeling?

"Rising annoyance and severe aggravation!" Red opened his eyes a slit to glare at his executioner.

Kaplan's features betrayed nothing. She merely... waited.

"My head is imploding, I'm going to throw up on your patent leather shoes–"

"Out of spite?" Kate remarked casually.

Red's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Liz's fingers scratched soothingly along his scalp. He relaxed by degrees despite the moment.

"Do you not remember some things, Red?" Liz was more than concerned.

"He hit the floor pretty hard." Francis felt compelled to inform Kaplan. "...When he fell."

"A hair's breath and he would have been at Heaven's gate... or hells." Kaplan listened to the man's breathing for some few moments.

Liz's blood ran cold, considering the off handed statement.

"You lead a charmed life." Kaplan raised, folding the instrument absently. "You need food."

Red's stomach lurched at the notion.

Francis was instantly by his side, trash can in hand for he had witnessed the instant drain of blood from the man's quickly greying features.

Red settled his reaction, glaring at Kaplan, "You can be a real bitch when you want."

She smiled wistfully, "Very kind of you to say... now," she sought Elizabeth, "where's that woman that erringly believes she is in charge of this complex?"

"...Nora?" Liz had arisen from Red's side having taking a chair close to the bed's edge, "she's in the kitchen, Mr. Kaplan."

Kate said not a word, merely grabbed her bag before marching diligently from the room without a backward glance... still a little more than put out with Raymond Reddington clearly, mumbling something about, 'another new scar on that senseless head'.

"Why is she so mad at you?" Liz was confused.

"It's just her way." Red closed his eyes, feeling the pain recede gradually. Whatever Kaplan was experiencing, she had given him the good stuff. He floated in a relatively pleasant place right now.

"So, Francis," there was one last issue with which to contend, "about what I said... earlier," he would smooth it over. No need to bring unpleasant matters to light at such a time.

Why he had provoked the guy, Red still wasn't certain.

"Yeah," Francis nodded sarcastically, stepping to the opposite side of the bed, "let's clear the air... shall we?"

Liz stepped back, for the man had stepped far too close into her space, her look somewhat comical, "What are yo–"

Francis' hands latched about her upper arms, hauling her bodily closer.

"Hey!" Liz objected to such rough handling, or handling, at all. Her senses too overloaded to react one way or other, truth told. She sensed Francis' intent, stunned and disoriented by the fact...

Red's body tensed, he too, sensing the direction Francis' anger would take–

Unfortunately, any movement sent waves of sharp reawakened torture spiking in his head, so at the moment, his only recourse was to glare death rays at the individual.

"What th–" Liz pushed on Francis' advancing chest, incredulously shocked and rattled.

Francis held firm, leaning abruptly, his mouth connecting soundly with Elizabeth's slightly agape one.

Red felt the nausea rise, closing off his vision to the sickening sight but it was like a bad car wreck...

He could not look away for long.

Elizabeth, at first, stood tense and rigid within the sphere of Francis' embrace, her fists curled tight into balls of reaction.

Red's blood boiled as the younger man deliberately ran his palm over the slight bulge of Lizzy's ass cheek.

The woman gasped, pulling sharply back, her features livid suddenly.

Francis ignored the fact, grasping her head between firm hands, reconnecting his lips to Liz's mouth as he purposely deepened the already passionate kiss.

Liz shoved hard, severing all physical connection. "Are you fucking insane?!"

She smacked Francis' chest hard, shoving him yet again. "Have you lost your mind!" she was relatively sure he had.

She turned stunned eyes Red's way. "What the fuck!" she sought answers from... somewhere.

"Did you like it, Lizzy?" Francis taunted. "Did you feel anything?"

Liz turned back, hitting the man again, this time... harder. "You crazy bastard! Yeah, I felt something..." she declared to any and all, "I felt like puking in your mouth!"

"Ewww." Francis grimaced.

Liz spread her hands helplessly, "What the hell is going on inside your minuscule mind!"

"Not my mind." Francis shrugged nonchalantly, "...his."

Liz spared Red a glance, "Don't you bring him into your sick perverted world!" she ranted. "He's hurt and... and..." she motioned angrily, "and this is how you treat him... treat me? What the hell, Francis." she was close to tears.

"Not to worry, Lizzy." Francis shifted Red a cool gaze, "just a sick little demonstration."

He stepped to confront Red's steely ice cold stare, "...All your questions answered?"

"If you ever think about doing something like–"

"I didn't think it... not once." Francis seethed, "And that you would think I would..."

Elizabeth's wide eyes watched the scene with veiled concern.

First Silas and she were at odds. And now... Francis and Red.

What the hell was wrong with this day!

"Stop!" she stepped forward, pleading, "My God! What is happening to our family!"

Red backed off. Francis pulled his attention back to the man. "Stop seeing shit that doesn't exist!" he warned.

Red seethed in silence.

"Red..." Elizabeth moved haltingly, "you didn't think..." she felt sick inside.

"...No." the man lied on impulse... then hesitated, chastising himself . You don't lie to Lizzy. "...Maybe." he muttered.
Liz gasped her dismay, clearly upset by the man's distrust in her.

Understanding Red's turmoil, more so, Liz's distress... Francis came to the rescue. "Look, the guy has a concussion." he reasoned, "he's obviously not himself." he took the fall for the entire incident. "I... overreacted and I totally apologize for being such a jerk."

It was hard for Francis to lie to the woman, Red could see by the hesitant attitude.

"I'm... I guess... it's me too." he motioned to his injuries. "I'm dead on my feet. I'm not," he shook his head, "...I guess my brain is scrambled too." he murmured. "I'm exhausted, actually."

"Francis." Liz felt terrible. The man had stayed with her the entire time. Even though he had lost so much blood and his injuries were extensive.

"It's been a rotten day." Francis conceded. "It's me, Lizzy." he smiled wanly, "God, I don't know what got into me."

Liz looked from one man to the other, her face falling. "It has been a rotten fucking day!" she wailed.

She stated to go to Red for solace, but when her knee indented the bed, the man sucked in a horrendous breath.

Liz hastily froze, easing ever so gingerly away, "I'm so sorry..." her face showed her empathy, "I'm so sorry, baby!"

Red took note of the endearment. He lifted a staying hand. "It's fine."

Liz chuckled mirthlessly, "Yeah, I'm sure. Look..." she rolled the tension in her shoulders, "you need to rest."

"I need you." he corrected hastily.

She closed her eyes, a wonderful warmth encompassing her body. "I'm not going anywhere. But I want you to sleep now, just for a little bit."

Red could find no rebuttal to voice.

Francis felt insecure at best, uncertain where he stood with the man, "Well, if I'm not needed, I'll go home."

Liz lifted vulnerable eyes.

"What?" Red half smirked, "And miss a prime chance to seduce Nora at dinner tonight?"

Francis hesitated, "I can seduce her some other time... I guess?"

He was offering the man an out, sensing Red was trying to make amends with Liz... not him.

Red opened his eyes, "...You'll stay for dinner," he half warned, "and breakfast, as long as you like. Got it."

Francis 'got it'. A great sense of relief overtook him. "Well, my angel is making my favorite tonight."

"You think she'd be making mine." Red grumbled. "Since I pay her to do so."

Liz smiled sympathetically at the man.

"Hey, Liz..." Francis was suddenly gravely concerned, "you won't mention that disturbing event to my precious darling, will you?" he mentioned his earlier behavior. "Women get really defensive about things like that. They just don't understand th–"

"No, we don't," Liz was still mystified, "and no, I won't. Not to anyone." she vowed, "Ever!"

Francis breathe easier, "Oh, good." he was happy again.

"And Francis, if you ever try anything like that again without my express approval..." she smiled sweetly at the man, "I'll stick your gun up your ass and pull the trigger... repeatedly."

"Understood." Francis was still perturbed. "Besides, it was like kissing my sister." he pulled a face, shuddering visibly. "Well, dinner calls."
Liz shuddered visibly as well, in total agreement.

Red felt suddenly light hearted.

Of course, it could be the drugs Kaplan had supplied.

"We'll just put this bizarre episode behind us." Liz warned superficially. "We'll chalk it up to male testosterone gone awry."she included Red in the reprimand. "I don't know what brought it on but let's just say... it's a subject that will never be revisited."

Red shifted his gaze.

Francis scratched the back of his head aimlessly. "It was his fault, not mine." he had rebounded enough to feel on more comfortable ground once again.

"But you're right... enough said on the matter." he pointed pointedly at the open door. "I'm gone."

He made a hasty exit, clearly glad to be out of such a sticky situation.

Liz waited a decent interval before turning her attention back to the other occupant of the room.

"I'm not going to grill you right now because I know you feel lousy..." she left the subject open for another time, "but I do want to just say... if you believe for one second that there is anything other than friendship between me and that little twirp... I would be very upset with the lack of trust between us after all that has happened."

Red stared straight ahead. He deserved the dressing down. Didn't mean he had to like it though.

"I can only assume something untoward went down between you and Francis in my absence to make him do something so ridiculous."

"Why, ridiculous?" Red had to question, "he is a perfect match for you... if you think about it."

"I haven't thought about it... have you?" she was astounded.

"Only to the extent," he moved cautiously, "that... I wouldn't stand in your way if–"

"If what?" she was getting angry.

"If you felt, you might be more content with.." he couldn't even finish the fucking sentence, feeling less a man for the fact.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" she had remained silent for an inordinate amount of time.

Red had started to sweat, it had taken so long for the woman to reply.

He cut an earnest gaze, "What are you talking about?" he was genuinely puzzled.

"Are you evaluating your options where–" had she pissed him off to such an extent?

He had asked for her to trust his judgement... his ability to take care of himself in any given situation. Had she crossed a line?

"Are you crazy?" he checked the urge to sit up and face her, "what the hell is in your head now?" he could never tell which way her thought patterns would go more often than not.

The woman remained silent, her world slowly shattering into tiny pieces.

She kept her features placid even though inside, she felt like shit.

"Lizzy," Red sighed heavily, "you have to see it from my point of view, please." his throat was tight with emotion at the moment. "Where all this goes," he lifted a vague hand, "it really is all up to you."

She opened her mouth to speak but he couldn't take the chance of where the conversation would go.

"Just hear me out." he swallowed the lump of fear plaguing him. "I am, at present... your lover." he conceded, or at least he hoped that was still the status-quo, "you're significant other, if you will. I have no real claim to you... no proper one."

The woman's brow furrowed darkly.

"At times..." should he cross this line? Should he lay his cards on the table? "I feel I am at a very precarious stage in our relationship. In that..." he could share this much, "the fact is, you could decide to leave at any given time for any reason you deem acceptable."

It was true, she could do that even if they had a more permanent agreement. So what was his point?

"I'm very... insecure about some aspects of what we... share."

The turn in conversation surprised... no, stunned, Elizabeth, "Red..."

He held up a hand, unwilling to meet her eyes as yet.

Red Reddington was insecure? Liz was apprehensive at best. This could not be real... could it?

"The reality is, you are a young, vibrant, beautiful woman who can have her pick of any male out there."

Well, she didn't believe that for one second. After all, look what she had picked on the first go round and... why?

Because Tom was the best out of exactly two other men who had shown even a remote interest in her.

Of course, she had decided early on to put her career first. Liz knew she wasn't unattractive but she was no great beauty either, although Red made her feel beautiful, on most days.

Okay everyday, in actuality.

"Red, I feel that too." she hastened to inform him. "I feel insecure and out of my depth and at a loss, but..."

He waited patiently now, anxious to hear her out.

"Mr. Kaplan is going to be angry with me." she knew he should be resting. She glanced haplessly to the opened doorway.

"Fuck, Kaplan." Red grated. "What were you saying?"

Liz looked at him oddly, "Have you..." she blurted, her curiosity too much to bear in this instance, "...fucked her?"

Red lay his head back, cursing an oath for his stupidity.

"Oh!" the woman commiserated, "God, that had to hurt!" she felt terrible for the man.

"No!" Red grated. "She doesn't swing that way! And she's my... friend." he hissed. "Tell me what you were going to say!"

The light blue eyes beseeched him.

Liz felt bad and embarrassed. "I didn't mean to..." well, of course she had. Her cheeks flushed yet again, "Silas says he thinks she could be... both."

Liz bit her lip seeking an out to the awkward subject, "But through it all I also feel... so many other things. Nice things." she admitted freely. "Amazing things. I guess I was hoping that," she paused, considering how to save face, "...you would think the good outweighed the bad, because it does for me."

It was as if Red's gaze delved into her soul. She wanted to look away from such an intimate examination but found it impossible to do so.

"I know I shouldn't have..." she stopped. No, she had to take a stand even if it meant there would be a rift between them, "No." Liz hardened her stance, "No, I'm not going to apologize for caring about you. I'm not going to do that."

Red's trepidation melted slowly as he watched the dour little features.

"You promised me you would trust me." he had to say it or die and right now, that option seemed like it was still on the table, his head pounded relentlessly. He had to know... he had to proceed.

Liz shifted a guilty stare, "Not technically."

He lifted a scolding glare.

"Well, I didn't and I won't in the future." she stubbornly held her ground. "I want us to be together. I want that very much but if it means walking on eggshells to please you... no, I can't do that."

Red weighed his options.

"I will try to make better decisions but..." she shook her head, "I have to be allowed the right to make those decisions or any I see fit to make, Red."

He wearily closed his eyes, "Elizabeth, did you forget," he opened pain filled orbs but it had nothing to do with his head injury, "you could be carrying my child?"

Liz blinked. The man's gaze dropped to her flat abdomen.

"You put yourself in grave danger, yes, but also..."

"Oh my God." she gasped the realization. "I did forget!" the fact stunned her. "H-How could I have forgotten such a–"

"Because it isn't a reality for you as yet." he knew the answer. "But it is to me."

"It isn't a reality at all." she defended herself. "We don't know anything... for certain."

"Which is my point exactly." he stated quietly.

She fell silent.

Red would give anything he owned to know her thoughts. She appeared so downcast... so unsettled.

"How can I help?" he needed to do so.

Liz touched her stomach protectively, "I don't know." It all seemed so very complicated suddenly. So very terrifying.

Did she have a tiny life inside her? One that would be totally dependent on her decisions?

Liz sat heavily in the large chair by the windows.

She pondered the course of actions she had taken this day.

Realization dawned. She could have died and with her death... she would have ended the possibility of a new life coming into this world.

Was that so bad? It wasn't such a wonderful world... not the parts she had come to know.

Of course it was bad... it was horrible. Beyond horrible... it would have been unconscionable.

She jerked her head to Red Reddington.

His gaze sat gently on her troubled features.

She suddenly understood his almost pathological need to protect something so small and vulnerable... something you cherished above your own life even.

"Oh my God, Red!" she rushed to him, seeking comfort.

Liz lay her head on his chest ever so carefully.

Red's fingers engulfed her cold ones tightly.

"It's okay." he breathed the breath he had unconsciously been holding, his palm cupping her head soothingly. "I'm here."

"Yes," she closed her eyes, laying a minute kiss on his chest, the wiry hair found there tickling her lips, "yes, you're here.

The silence was not uncomfortable any longer, at least not for Red. He stroked her silken strands lovingly.

The medication was strong, he felt himself drifting in and out of consciousness in the quiet room.

He fought the sensation.

"Sleep now." Liz could feel the tenseness in his frame.

"I'm... fine."

She smiled softly, the quietness settling in her thoughts.

"Don't you ever go away from me." she whispered huskily. "Don't you ever do that, Red Reddington."

The man scoffed at such a concept, "Not...gonna happen."

She lifted slowly, gazing down at the peacefully sleeping man for an inordinate amount of time.

His fingers had loosened on hers but still retained contact. She stared at the strong, thick appendages, her thumb moving lightly over the fine hairs on the back of his hand.

Liz severed the contact, moving to the other side of the bed. She crept into the space beside the man, careful not to jostle or disturb if possible.

She pressed her cheek to his bicep, her hands clutching the muscular area for security.

She watched the steady rise and fall of his breathing, captivated by the light greyish-red of the hair covered skin.

"When I can stand the sound of my own voice..."

She started, unaware he had been with her this entire time.

"I'm going to yell at you...later."

She grinned, "...I know." she whispered quietly.

He could hear the smile in her words, "You could at least pretend a little trepidation." a slight scowl laced his forehead.

Liz's smile widened, "I'm shaking in my boots."

"You and Kaplan..." he drew in a long, slow breath, before releasing it, "biggest smartasses I know."

"I'm deeply honored to be included in such an elite unit."

Red smiled reluctantly, his fingers trailing lightly over the flat of her stomach.

The man's breathing evened out. Liz stayed alert and awake, too afraid to close her eyes.

She watched the man sleep, content to feel his warmth, to be by his side.

It was going to be a long night but she didn't care because in the morning, she knew Red would be better.

He would be here. He hadn't gone away, in any sense of the word.

The thought settled her Universe. She would wait patiently now. God had answered her prayers.

But... just in case, she would stay alert, she would keep watch because down deep, she knew that is exactly what Red would do were the situations reversed.

Things were better now but not all issues had been addressed. None had actually been resolved.

There was Silas.

She hadn't seen the man since their confrontation. She suspected he was deliberately staying off her radar.

It hurt to know she had alienated the man. She had no idea how to fix the problem.

And even though the subject of his over-protectiveness and her impulsive recklessness had been broached, Liz had a sinking feeling, it would rear it's ugly head in the very near future.

She had to make certain there would be no lasting strain between her and Francis over that stupid stunt he pulled.

Liz sighed heavily, willing the hours to pass.

Red slept peacefully, the sound of his steady breathing soothing the woman.

It would all be better tomorrow because as everyone knew...

Tomorrow was another day.

---

It was late into the night when the man finally started awake.

Liz, becoming too anxious to sleep, had slipped from the bed after a few hours. It had felt wonderful to lay next to the man, just to revel in his being after the scare he had given her.

But as time passed, nerves jangled. Mr. Kaplan had instructed Liz awake Red periodically throughout the night.

Concussions were nefarious things. One never knew exactly what route they might take.

Liz teetered between attempting to awake Red or allow him to get the much needed rest his injuries called for.

Mr. Kaplan had threatened to kill them both if her instructions were not followed to the letter.

Red had joked, when informed of said threat that, not only could the slight woman carry out such a fact, but cleverly dispose of the bodies after.

Liz had not really seen the humor of the statement.

She was never so glad to hear Red stir.

She crossed, having been staring out at the dark, starry night, from her perch by the window.

"How's it going?" she smiled softly down as his eyes focused, fixing on her face finally.

"It's about..." he swallowed, grimacing, his throat hurting, his headache eased but still throbbing somewhat, "...a six now."

Liz wasn't following, too intent upon trying to read his body language, "What was 'it'... before?" she played along, hoping this wasn't the start of a delusional episode, her worst fears coming to the fore.

"A fifteen." Red murmured grumpily.

"Oh!" light dawned. She chuckled lowly, "you mean your pain level. I'll take a six, Red." she was grateful for the magnitude as a matter of fact. "Six is good."

"Not from my point of view."

"Of course not," she empathized, "of course, it's horrible, but considering the alternative..." she gently sat on the side of the bed.

He did not flinch as he had done earlier in the day.

"What time is it?" he asked groggily, his hand running over his head absently. He attempted movement and for a brief moment, he thought he was going to loose his stomach.

"It's too soon." she had hastily arisen, her hands going out to prevent such an unwise move, but the man shook it off, at length sitting upright.

He lay heavily back on the pillows she had quickly propped. "Well, that was a stupid move on my part." he decided.

Liz shook her head, "Could have told you that."

He smiled shortly, "You do what you have to do in life."

"Well, you do." she argued. "Mr. Kaplan wants you to eat something. No more pain meds until you do." she grimaced a supportive smile.

The thought wasn't as nauseating as he had imagined.

"That woman enjoys torturing me,"

Liz shrugged, "She's got you this far... let's not piss her off."

"God forbid."

"Nora has concocted some of her world renowned chicken soup." Liz sweetened the pot.

"The best cure all ever." Red had to admit. "That actually...sounds good."

Liz beamed, "I'll be right back." she turned flouncing from the room only to halt in her steps to flounce back to the side of the bed.

She grasped the pill bottle from the side table, smiling happily, leaning to plant a hasty kiss to the scowling forehead.

"There are better places to kiss." his scowl increased.

"When you're better." she promised, flouncing away, her steps light and airy.

"When you're better." the man mimicked bitterly, his mood a little surly at present.

Liz's smile widened at the veiled retort, "You'll feel better after you eat."

Red sent a dour glare at the now opened doorway. He settled back, his mood dampening with her departure.

"I doubt it." he grumbled.

But an hour later, that prophecy proved a valid one.

He actually did feel better, his mood much improved, truth told.

"Where's the clock?" he realized, his brain fog clearing somewhat, that Liz had never responded to his earlier inquiry. "What time is it?"

"Kaplan confiscated them." Liz glanced at the vacated spots. She consulted her watch. "A little after two." she reported.

He stopped his spoon mid-stride. "You did eat dinner?" he held up his bowl of steaming soup.

"Nora made sure everyone was fed and happy." she hedged for in reality she hadn't felt like eating anything.

Even Francis' appetite had waned. After Red had awakened, the guy made up for lost time, of course.

"Red, everyone was too wired, too worried after today's events to react normally." she explained at his confused expression. "Most of the men are in the dining room playing cards."

"Worried? Francis said we had no casualties." he remembered that much. "Has something changed?" he sat the soup aside, his expression having altered drastically.

Liz was flabbergasted, "Red!" she spread her hands out from her sides, "You were shot in the head!"

The man surmised that much.

"Don't you think we would be a little concerned over the fact?"

"You maybe," he shrugged, returning to his food, "hopefully anyway. Why would the rest care?"

"I'm beginning to wonder?" she snapped. "Is this how you feel about them... about the men that work under you?"

He considered the question, "I suppose...on some level their safety is a factor, but Lizzy, the men I hire, I do so for a specific purpose. That purpose alone puts any supposed relationship on a precarious basis at best, don't you think?"

She stared at him, wide-eyed.

"The very nature of the employment they seek puts them at certain risk."

"That is so... cold." she was losing ground fast, the very foundation of her belief in the man's moral ethics shaken.

Silas... Francis, and now...

Red put the soup aside, swinging his legs to the side of the bed. He took a moment to acclimate and to prepare his next words for he had sensed the woman was upset... more than upset.

"I simply question why such men, men I admire and respect granted," he waved a hand, "but men who usually have no real loyalty to or great connection with any employer they encounter. It's the nature of the business."

"And Dembe?" she asked all too quietly. "Silas?"

"Exceptions to the rule." Red stated.

"...Kevin?"

Red hesitated, "Kevin was different, he was just a kid."

"And Joe?" she persisted.

Red was becoming annoyed, "Joe's been with me a long time."

Liz studied the man evenly now, more settled, sensing something she had to prove to herself if nothing else, "...Thomas?"

"Thomas is an idiot, someone has to look out for him." Red snapped his growing disillusionment with the turn of the conversation. "My point is–"

"That you're lying through your teeth... to yourself." Liz could finally breathe again, "Each and every one of those men mean something to you, Red Reddington and don't you dare sit there and act like they don't."

"Business is business." he grumbled, glancing aimlessly about for his cigars. "Where's my cigar?" he was getting irritable.

When the man was agitated, or extremely mellow, very infrequently granted now that Lizzy was about, but at times, he would light up a smoke.

"Kaplan–"

"Took them!" he lifted pissed eyes. "That woman has gone too far. Get her scrawny ass in here! I want to have a little talk with–"

"What about the baby?" Liz asked innocently. "Isn't second hand smoke bad for it? I mean," she glanced at her stomach, "are you going to smoke afterwards?" those blue eyes lifted almost accusingly.

Red settled instantly, "...Of course not, I won't."

"Then why are you upset with Kaplan?"

Red threw her a scolding glare, "It's not really Kaplan I'm upset with and I think you know that."

Liz rolled her eyes, "Stop treating me as if I were a fragile China doll." She didn't want to get into this but... "I'm not, as you, of all people... should realize."

She referenced to her status as a fully established agent of the Federal Government.

"I made a calculated decision today... true, I had a momentary lapse regarding..." she wouldn't get into her possible health issues, "had I remembered, I would have reacted differently, I'm sure but–"

"Would you have, Elizabeth?" he clearly doubted her veracity, "look," he tried again, "this is my job, it is what I do. Shit happens and it's not always pleasant. Hell, it's almost never pleasant."

Liz drew in a cleansing breath.

"It's hard enough that you put yourself in harms way for the Agency. I apparently have no say in that matter."

She lifted a defiant chin, "No, you do not."

He fell silent for a long beat.

"You blithely dismissed my feelings this morning," she accused, "I care about what happens to you, Red. And it's not like I interfere each and every time you walk out that door," she pointed out, "I know what you do, I even accept it to a point–"

"No, it can't be to 'a point'." he cautioned, "Just as I step back when Cooper gives you and Ressler an assignment, even though my instincts are screaming at me to prevent you going somehow, I check those impulses... don't I?"

The woman had not looked at it in such a light.

Silence came and it was anything but comfortable.

"Do you have any idea what Cheung's stock and trade is?" Red was remembering the incident in the hallway, "He buys and sells women... you can guess for what purpose?"

Liz was a big girl, she didn't shock so easily but she was suddenly remembering a day... night... where the team had acted on a tip which led to the discovery of a small back room in some dingy part of the Garment District in NYC.

That room was teeming with young girls, most no more than thirteen or fifteen.

Their faces still haunted her at night sometimes.

"What if Silas hadn't arrive on time? What if I truly had been incapacitated to the point, I could not have reached you in time?"

Liz felt her defenses rising, "You know, I was giving a pretty good account of myself, there was no way that bastard would have gotten me out of that house?"

"Like Carver wouldn't have finished his task had he not been interrupted?"

Liz's eyes misted, "That is... so unfair. I'm better trained now. Silas has–"

"You are a hundred pound woman," Red sighed wearily, "no training in the world would have stopped a fucker like Carver because... he doesn't play by civilized rules, Elizabeth and neither do men like Cheung!"

Red's head was beginning to ache again, the tension in his muscles not aiding the fact. He knew he should be resting his body.

"Would you be speaking to Samar like this?" she placed both hands on her hips, her temper flaring.

"Samar comes from a different part of the world. She has seen and done things you could only have nightmares about."

"So you think that makes her a better agent than me."

"Of course I do," he was dumbfounded, "which is not to say, you can't learn... but you are not at such a stage as yet, Elizabeth."

The woman stared moodily off, refusing to meet his eyes, "This is unacceptable," she gritted, "you are no better than Tom Keen in my book."

The blue eyes shifted coldly to his, "At least he was openly honest about what he thought of me and my so called abilities... after he shed his snake skin, that is."

She was hurting. She hadn't realized how badly she had needed Red's approval until this moment which made her feel weak and ineffectual.

"I can't believe I've been this stupid... again!" she voiced tightly.

"You're being stupid, yes," he concurred angrily, "if you would just listen to me, I–"

"I'm done listening... to any man... ever again." she reacted.

The woman turned on her heel, one destination in mind and that was... out the damn front door.

She may even ask Tom for a ride... since she was so stupid.

Her footsteps were brought to an abrupt halt as a massive hand shut the door facing soundly.

She gasped her shock, pulling up short suddenly confronted with a very put out Red Reddington.

The light eyes blazed his anger down at her, "I've always expected to die doing this shit, it's a given. No fucking way will you end up the same cesspool." his tone was tight with fury.

Every part of the man's body ached, his head was exploding inside, his muscles were bunched into coiled efficiency and his mood... had been better.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he demanded an answer.

"Away..." Liz was only too happy to supply one, "from you!"

He nodded knowingly, his expression bleak, "I don't care if I have to order Silas tie you to a damned chair," he threatened smoothly, he was wholeheartedly willing to do so, "you will stay here and listen to reason."

"I'll stay because that's all you Neanderthals understand," she used Francis' term for his species, "brute force but it doesn't mean I have to listen... does it."

Red leaned heavily against the door facing. He was cold, his bare feet on the cool floor. The satin of the pajamas he wore not enough protection in his weakened state.

Liz noted the white features, the tired lines about his eyes and almost weakened her stance for a beat.

"Elizabeth..." the man closed his eyes, misery flooding his entire being, "I fucking hate being at odds with you." he grated his weakness.

She hesitated, "You can't just dictate my actions," she couldn't live like that, "you just... can't!"

"Carver is out there..." he reminded listlessly, "...Tom."

Liz's head fell. She studied his bare feet for a goodly spell, pondering her options. As she saw it... there were few things to ponder. "I'll just have to take my chances because I can't live under a double standard. I won't."

She lifted a steady gaze, "Can I go now." she indicated her blocked path.

"You're not fucking going." Red declared venomously.

She folded her arms, "Say what you have to say. I'm tired. I need to," she closed her eyes to the sudden weariness that descended, "...rest."

Red felt his world slipping away. Had he over reacted? Were his fears invalid ones?

He looked down at the flushed, angry features. Her stance so intractable, so solidly set...

"It's not safe out there..." he had options as well, "you stay, I will go."

"No!" she vetoed the offer coldly, "I want to go home."

The words cut him like a knife, "This is your home."

"No," she realized, all had changed. In a matter of minutes, all was different... alien, "I'll find...something. I want to go."

The man was at a loss. For once in his life he was confronting a situation he could not contrive, manipulate, or control.

"I shouldn't have started this." he realized his mistake too late. He attributed his faulty judgement to his injuries. What else could it be? "We can talk about it in the–"

"There is nothing to talk about." she stated flatly with such a finality, it stunned the man.

He hesitated. He may be down but he wasn't out... just yet.

"Elizabeth, we have to find a mutual understanding here." he would use logic and reason. "Different beliefs... opinions if you will, are a natural part of any relationship. We are going to have disagreements but..." he felt himself losing ground for she had folded her arms, closing herself off completely.

"We have to find a way to discuss any subject without losing sight of whatever it is that brought us together in the first place." he spread his hands out in an appeasing manner, "Don't you agree?"

"I don't know." she ranted the truth, "I don't know... anything anymore. I just want it to stop."

Red was not privy to all she had experienced this day. He thought perhaps, he should find out that information, with the utmost haste.

"What is it?" he urged, "Can you tell me what has upset you so deeply today... I think it's more than..." he motioned.

She glanced at the man, "I'm tired, Red." she snapped, "I want some peace and quiet! I don't want to–"

"All right..." he lifted his hands, "all right, we'll do that, then. All this can wait. It will keep, are we in agreement in that at least?"

She hesitated. Did she really want to leave? Did she truly want to leave him when he was so hurt?

Her heart went out to the man for he had faulted visibly, catching himself on the door behind him to cover the fact.

"Red!" she scrambled to his side only to be held at bay.

"I'm fine." it was dismissed almost curtly, "I'm good. What I was saying–"

"It doesn't matter," she was just as curt, "I want you to get back in bed...do you need help?"

Red fluctuated. Her attitude had altered slightly, which was a good thing but he didn't want his condition to be the reason she...

"I can help." she offered a shoulder, "will you at least sit on the bed?"

He relented, in reality so pleased... so grateful to have diverted her from the other topic.

The man looked at the structure, "I'm okay but..." the slender shoulder was moved close and he did not hesitate when the petite form slid closer offering him stability.

The warmth of her body seeped into his cold side. It felt wonderful. A tiny hand wrapped securely about his middle, the other resting tentatively on his abdomen as she matched her steps to his faltering ones.

"Should I call, Dembe?" she searched the chiseled profile plaintively, having felt a definite tremor run through his powerful frame.

He shook his head, sitting his weight on the side of the bed. He was astounded when she sat as well, hovering close.

"Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?"

"I need," he suddenly realized, turning a somber look her way, "you, baby." he swallowed hard, "and that's all I ever will need."

She misted, her arms lifting about his neckline as she moved ever so close to his bulk, her embrace tightly clutching his stability.

The room was so still. She could feel his heart beat, strong and steady under the palm of her hand.

His scent surrounded her. What a fucking idiot she had been. It was as clear as a bell in her head now... this is where she wanted to be.

No matter the differences between them, no matter the obstacles they would have to face...

Where ever this man was... is where she would always want to be.

"Oh Red, I'm so sorry." she sniffled softly, swiping at the threatening tears, "I shouldn't have said... any of those things I did!" she moved enough to catch his soulful eyes.

"No," he stated quietly, "you shouldn't have." he moved a strand from her cheek then smiled warmly, "but I understand why you did..." he admitted quietly, his eyes mellowing, "You damned near finished the job Cheung started."

"Don't!" she clutched him tightly, "Don't say things like that, even in jest." she lay her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes, appreciating his presence.

The brown highlights of her hair caught his attention. She was such a beautiful woman. The last thing he had wanted to do was alienate her.

He remembered the lovely hue of her cheeks, all rosy and flushed with the passion of the moment. Those blue eyes flashing their animosity up at him.

All of five foot seven, a tiny powerhouse of fury, all directed entirely at him.

Red had faced a Columbian drug trafficking gang, the Los Rastrojos, which had him held hostage for three hellish days and yet he did not feel as apprehensive as when he had been confronted by Lizzy's anger.

She felt so warm, her skin was soft and smooth to the touch. He knew the feel by heart.

He loved the feel of her flesh...

He could feel the plump bulge of her breast pressed into his shoulder.

What he wouldn't give to reach over and touch that sweet, delicious mound. He staunchly resisted the urge knowing she would not welcome the move on his part at this time but his fingers itched to follow through on his imaginings.

At least she wasn't thinking about leaving him at this moment in time. He had pulled his ass out of the fire.

It had seemed so important though... he had almost lost her today, twice now.

Once due to her recklessness and unforgivably, once to his own.

How bleak, how unbearable his life would have been...

There was a lull.

A wondrous lull.

He had been given a second chance. One he would never take for granted again. One he would cherish. And one he would fight til his last breath to retain.

"I love you."

Red Reddington jerked, a spike of pain shooting through his head.

Elizabeth gasped audibly, instantly concerned.

"Oh, God, I shouldn't have... said that." she was contrite. "Should I ...have said that? No... of course not!"

Red stared at her, mouth agape... his senses fucking reeling.

Elizabeth flushed scarlet, "It's way too soon... isn't it." the incriminations were sitting in, she couldn't read his reaction for his face was a mask of incredulous disbelief. "What I meant to say..." she lost all coherent thought for one horrible beat.

Jesus! What an incredibly stupid, stupid... stupid–

"What..." Red had found his voice, even though it was raspy, harsh and coarse, so unlike his normal silken tone. Even he hardly recognized it, "W-What?"

He pressed his temples to alleviate the incessant pulsing caused by his rapid heartbeat, "... Elizabeth?"

"I know," she held up a staying hand, "I realize I shouldn't have–"

He leaned, his palms cupping her face, his lips parted hers gently, almost reverently...

The warm hollow of his mouth drew her into the sensual depths. She allowed his lead, even when he lay her back into the rumpled covers of the bed.

Red lifted his mouth reluctantly, his gaze locking with her. "... Repeat," he whispered ardently, "what it was..." the steady gaze robbed her of any coherent thought, "you just said... to me."

She licked those luscious lips anxiously, the blue eyes trying desperately to look from that fervent stare.

"Well I..."

Red's gaze dropped to her mouth, remaining fixed.

"Don't tell me I imagined it all, Lizzy." his index finger traced a searchingly slow path. The thick appendage traveled about the shell-like ear.

Red intently settled his body more comfortably alongside her now outstretched form, his bulk pressed intimately close.

"That this incredible declaration wasn't all a hallucination..." he lifted a sultry stare, "I'm going to discount that theory.."

Lizzy felt the hard evidence of a very vivid arousal pressing to her thigh.

She struggled, words failing her, his gaze robbing her of any sane, reasonable response.

"I've been in love with you," he cut her protestation short, his voice lowering to a steamy caress, "since before that first date.

It was Liz's turn to stare mutely, mouth agape.

"I've been falling 'in love' with you," it was so freeing to finally be able to express his emotions, "ever single day since..."

She stared at the man's mouth as it formed the words, captivated beyond scope, "You... you can't mean that."

"With every fiber of my being." he stated simplistically, his lips following the exact same path over the sensitive ear his finger had.

Her mouth trembled slightly, a rush of emotions blanketing her. She couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. A part of her felt like squealing with the pure joy his words instilled.

But disbelief held the emotional onslaught at bay.

A shiver ran the length of her body, gooseflesh rising on her arms, the ones his palms now traveled seductively.

"You d-don't have to say that," she reminded herself more than the man, hoping against hope he would ignore such advice completely, "just because–"

He lifted a perceptive brow, "You did?"

The flush returned two-fold. Liz shifted about restlessly, "Well I... I... after today..."

The man's attitude changed. He stiffened slightly, "Elizabeth," his gaze pinned her under its stern scrutiny, "did you say what you did because... I got shot?"

It was a clear accusation and his hands had halted their excruciatingly pleasurable pastime.

"No!" she hastened breathlessly. "Well of course I was... terrified that you," she refused to think on that subject, "I mean... before."

He scowled darkly, his body tense, rigid with control, "Before... what?"

"After you left... all the horrible things that went through my head," she shuddered, "I had to face the realization that..." she shook her head fiercely, dismissing the disturbing thoughts, "I need more time with you! God would not be so cruel to... give you to me then..." she swallowed the lump in her throat, "I felt so... bereft. So lost, Red." she lifted haunted eyes.

The man read the sincerity. He blew out a tremulous breath, his body visibly uncoiling.

"I didn't really want to leave you tonight." she blurted, "I was just so..."

"Pissed." he grinned slowly, "You were that." he seemed impressed by the fact. "Turned me the hell on."

She could feel the evidence returning even as he spoke. She glanced down, the long thick imprint of his hardness once again showing against the rich satin of his pajamas. The rigid line of his stiffening erection clearly visible.

Red had shifted strategically just so she could feel his... sincerity.

His eyes roamed her body slowly, resting on inappropriate places for inordinately inappropriate intervals.

"Say it again." he prompted, his thigh nudging hers wider, his knee sliding smoothly into the heated valley.

She knew her wetness stained the thin material of his pajama bottoms.

Liz lay perfectly still as his forefinger traced the curve of her upper lip, his eyes contentedly following his movements.

"Put some feeling into it," his mesmerizing eyes lifted, "make me believe..." he leaned ever so close, his breath fanning her face, traced with mint tea, "...you."

She licked the dryness from those desirable lips, the enormous violet orbs watching his every move.

"...I love you," she whispered emphatically, "so very... very much."

His hardness grew, a painful throbbing replacing the previous once... in an entirely different area of his body.

He nodded slowly, "Very good, Elizabeth." his approval washed over her, making her nipples harden with... anticipation.

Red fixed his stare on the pert little nubs, his tone lowering huskily, "Very good."

He bit his bottom lip in a conscious display of indecision, "Do you know..." he wondered at the beguiling innocence staring back at him, "have you any idea..." the small fingers clutched at the lapels of his top in something akin to desperation, "just how badly I want to fuck you right now?"

Elizabeth drew in a shallow, shaky breath. Her body reacting to the erotic stimuli, she closed her eyes to... savor his passionate desire.

"Not... make love to you, Elizabeth," he wanted that perfectly understood. He lay more of his weight against her lower body, his rigidness shoving hard into her vulnerable flesh.

"Fuck you..." he literally breathed the words, his mouth directly above her parted, trembling one, "that's what I need to do. That's what my cock is... demanding, I do."

She moaned weakly, spreading her legs wider without any forethought or hesitation on her part.

"How do you feel about that?" he asked rhetorically.

"Y-Your... head." she tried for some semblance of self-restraint. His injuries too extensive for such strenuous activities, surely.

"My head..." his tongue traced a searing path over her bottom lip, "is stocked full of deliciously warm cream just... begging me to..." his mouth parted and he breathed, his hot breath washing over her lips.

Liz lifted eagerly, but he refused any real contact as yet.

"...Share with you."

She locked her leg over the thick burliness of his outer thigh holding him from any extraction he might decide upon, her arms lifting, winding lovingly about the man's neckline.

"You have pleased me so intensely, my... love." it felt so amazing to have the freedom to use that word... finally, "I want desperately to please you in return in every conceivable fashion," he pinched her nipple teasingly, enjoying the slight tremor of desire the effect produced, "given my rather...extensive repertoire."

"You can't d-do that." she tried to convince herself more than the man at this point. Kaplan would really kill her if the woman found out Liz had allowed Red to–

"Of course I can, baby." Red soothed seductively, "my memory is fully intact, among other vital organs. I haven't forgotten one single thing. I know exactly what you like."

"No, I meant–" was he purposely misunderstanding?

"Spread your legs for me." he coaxed silkily, "I require more room than that, as I trust you remember."

He had glanced down to where their bodies intermingled.

Liz fought the urge to obey his every whim, "You just got out of a sick bed a–"

"And now, we are back in... bed." he glanced about their position. "Not that a couch, chair... or desk for that matter, wouldn't suit me just as well." he shrugged stocky shoulders, "Name the place, sweetheart. You know how flexible I can–"

Francis burst through the open door, intently leafing through page after page of stapled readouts, "Red you will never guess what that bastard, Cheung, has been up to–" he glanced up, stopping dead in his tracks.

Liz wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. She fought her flush of mortification for being caught in such a compromising situation,

Red merely sighed heavily, easing his body into neutral gear. It was a Herculean task in this instance.

"Whoa..." Francis grimaced apologetically, "Hey, who knew?" he defended himself after a moment, realizing his faux pas, "You took a head shot!" he lifted a plaintive hand, "Pardon the hell out of me for thinking you were probably down for the count."

Red shifted a regally cool gaze, "Not to worry, Francis," he allowed the woman to scramble up, resigned to his fate, "we were just discussing the weather."

"Yeah..." the man took in Lizzy's disheveled state, "Hot and sultry with a chance of tropical humidity in the wee hours of the night." he shook his head woefully, a disgruntled look for Elizabeth Scott, "Why don't you give the guy a breather... a little downtime wouldn't kill you, you know."

Liz's mouth gaped indignantly, "Me?!"

"Oh, like a guy who took a bullet to the head would initiate that rather torrid display?" Francis was a little incensed for his friend. "Come on, woman. I wasn't born yesterday."

"But you may die tonight!" Liz hissed.

Francis exited, clearly disillusioned, not to mention, definitely perturbed, "You're lucky I'm not a judgmental sort of guy. That's all I'm saying on the matter."

Liz looked to Red for assistance, her hands spread wide, "Do you believe that?"

The man shook his head minutely, his expression a clear one, "Some people." he commiserated, his eyes sweeping her frame boldly, "Now... where were we?"

"Oh yeah, right!" Liz snapped, "You just stay right where you are, Mister." she motioned accordingly, "Finish your soup! I'm going to set that freak of nature straight, that's what I'm gonna do!"

She turned on her heels, features set. She places to go.

"Elizabeth..."

The woman turned expectantly, her hand on the knob.

His eyes were saying so much more than she wanted to read at such a delicate moment.

"I love you." the husky declaration thrilled her down to her toes.

Her eyes softened, as did her stance. The woman's heart melted, an extraordinary affection for the man overtaking her.

"Well I... I love you too." the words were easier to say suddenly with him looking at her like that, "But you have to get some rest now."

His color still wasn't to her liking, "Promise."

"You're not coming back?"

"Not until you are asleep," she scolded primly, "and I mean that now!"

Red raked her lasciviously, "A pity."

She smiled just for him, blowing him a kiss before shutting the door gently.

Once outside she leaned against the facing for support, trying to calm her still erratic heart beat. A secretive smile worked it's way to her lips, her eyes gentle.

Red loved her...

She felt a well of emotion bubble inside her. She was experiencing a maelstrom of emotions. Tranquility, serenity, elation... and unadulterated exhilaration.

Granted, there was also nervousness, apprehension...a little piece of her questioning how much he loved her... who could blame her?

She frowned, willing to erase old habits... old insecurities.

She could search the depth of Red's emotional attachment... later. For now, she was content with the sentiment being expressed, openly, on both parts.

Time... they had time to explore this. To let it flourish. To become fulfilling in ways they maybe both required.

It was with renewed vigor, she shoved herself erect, "Why don't you give the guy a little downtime..." she mimicked disdainfully, "I'll show you downtime, you little shit." she was off in search of her victim.

Red lay quietly keying his body down. He could still feel the heated imprint of that succulent alcove he had settled in.

So close... he had been so fucking close.

He lay for a time thinking up inventive ways to end Francis' youthful existence.

Lizzy still had her doubts, he could sense the turmoil inside her.

He was up to the challenge.

After what she had declared tonight. He could face down anything thrown at him.

He had not felt that when he had faced her earlier tonight.

He was persistent if nothing else though and anew determination flowed inside him.

Lizzy loved him...

It hadn't happened as he would have planned, in a romantic setting... candlelight, wine...

He was adapting to their way of doing things. Unpredictable suited them.

He personally found the off script by-play exhilarating as hell, even the fear she had instilled in him had been cutting edge.

He thought back over the milestones in their relationship.

How very different his life with Lizzy was from anything he had ever experienced...

His first wife and he had gone the straight and narrow route, living up to societies expectations.

How very status quo it had all been.

Looking back, the man felt as if he had walked through the entire ordeal.

Had it been an ordeal?

Sex on the sixth date... if you could call it sex. She had allowed him to penetrate her. Why did he have the distinct impression it was all a carefully orchestrated plan on her part?

Was he being unkind?

The weekend trip to Connecticut... it's what couples did. They exchanged keys just a month later.

He had thought that a mistake just a few days later. Water under the proverbial bridge.

Moving in together, the prolonged engagement as her family insisted and he secretly agreed with... then the marriage.

The topic of children was only discussed some time later, coinciding with his bride's insistence they have unprotected sex for the first time.

Should have alerted him... bells should have gone off... but they didn't.

Was he ever so naïve?

Then came Lizzy.

They had lived together before deciding to try a genuine relationship, had sex on their first date, the weekend trip followed immediately, where upon they had returned to a very exhilarating time with languid lovemaking sessions and in less than a month, he was riding bareback into an ever increasing sexual euphoria.

They may even have a little one in the works...

The thought filled him with such an odd sense of peace and subdued excitement over what might be on the unforeseen horizon.

Red drifted off, unaware of doing so, his mind shutting down to the wondrous possibilities which awaited him upon his awakening.

---

AUTHOR NOTES:

I knew I was forgetting to do something before I posted and it was naming the poem that Red is thinking about. It is:

Sea Fever by John Masefield

I just wanted to make sure that the correct person received his just dues for such a wonderful piece of work.