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)

103. Higher Enlightenment

AUTHOR NOTES:

I have edited this chapter to remove song lyrics before FF goes on another purge.

This was also done because FF does nothing about CRITICS UNITED harassing writers.

If you wish to see this chapter in its entirety, with lyrics intact, go to Archive of Our Own.

I suppose because FF does not appreciate being one upped by better competition... it will not allow me to post the entire site address.

If you go to Archive of Our Own, you can either search for Focal Point by danieldavies1978 or you can paste the half address provided in the site address bar, place this after (.org)

/works/9069958/chapters/35427498

Since FF does not allow alternate chapters, I will only be posting those to Archive of Our Own only.

Make the switch and become an Archive of Our Own reader today. :)

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Red cleared the pipe of resin, taking a new offering being passed his way.

He studiously studied, then placed a small amount of product inside the receptacle, his brow furrowed, his manner intent.

Elizabeth Keen watched, her attention fixed, rapt.

The man inhaled leisurely on the deep draw holding it auspiciously.

The woman unconsciously mimicked the move, releasing her breath long before Red Reddington did his.

She couldn't hold it any longer. How the hell did the man hold his breath that long?

He must possess the lungs of an Olympic swimmer.

Color her impressed.

She frowned critically, her attention returning to the unfolding melodrama.

The entire room was pungent with a sweet melodious odor, the dim lights adding to the ambiance.

Red exhaled slowly, a white smoke pouring from his nose and mouth.

Liz waited impatiently for the verdict which was finally forthcoming.

Red looked at the pipe critically, "...Good taste, mellow... but a potent aftertaste I personally find... amusing."

Liz relaxed. She felt as if the compliment was for her, "You sound like you're rating a good wine."

"It is nothing like a good vintage." Dembe almost scolded, lifting his feet to a nearby coffee table.

Liz gasped softly for the breach of etiquette.

"I was recently in the South of France." Dembe continued.

"Where he got laid," Francis stated moodily, "I didn't get laid."

"What about Lia?" Liz enquired pleasantly.

"Perhaps if you journey to the South of France?" Dembe lifted a brow, ignoring the comment all together, "As I was saying..." the man garnered everyone's attention.

But to Liz's consternation, the large black man fell silent, though she was the only one who seemed to notice.

"What was the middle thing you said?" Francis had lost track of the conversation, apparently.

He scratched his head, leaning forward to check with Dembe.

Dembe turned a mellow gaze, but he did not reply.

"I was in the South of France once." Red remembered back, a contemplative look on his face.

"Did you get laid?" Liz cut him a disapproving look.

"It was Summer," Red recalled, "there was lavender in bloom everywhere. It rained the entire time," he smiled, "it was glorious."

"That is so deep." Francis talked around the breath he was holding, little puffs of smoke blowing out of his nose.

He reminded Liz of a dragon.

Francis laughed at nothing, another cloud of white smoke caught in the air, the blue lights of the disco ball highlighting the now hazy grey smoke. He instantly replaced the mist with a chicken wing.

The woman felt a ridiculous urge to sing "Puff the Magic Dragon". She stifled the urge hastily, realizing a moment later she was humming the upbeat ditty. Though no one seemed to notice.

Red's head tilted to one side. He shut his eyes, his expression blissfully serene.

"It's like floating on a marshmallow floatie." Red's head tilted the other way, "No, a marshmallow cloud."

Liz shifted confused eyes.

"This one is giving me a good buzz." Francis was staring hard at yet another chicken wing.

Liz wasn't sure if the 'buzz' was coming off the pipe or the chicken wing.

She leaned, examining the product lined up haphazardly on the long surface of the coffee table.

She could not for the life of her, figure out why anyone would find those little balls of prickly looking lint so damned enticing.

"What do you think, Dembe?" Red obviously wanted input.

"The third and fourth... very mellow." the man nodded his approval. "The second lacked potential. The first..." he offered a disgusted smirk.

Red sat back, seemingly totally satisfied with the critique. "There was an electrical storm," he held up a scholarly finger, "it struck the very top of the Eiffel Tower. Very impressive display indeed."

The man sat back, easing his shoulders into the cushy length of the couch.

Liz's lips twitched, positive they hadn't heard the last of his tale.

(Puff the Magic Dragon song went),Francis sang, packing his pipe with flourish. He lit the herb, inhaling deeply. Holding his breath, he continued in his attempt, his voice muffled.

He sang on the exhale, a cloud escaping his parted lips.

Liz pinched her lips together, holding her smile having enjoyed the lively rendition. She shifted her eyes when a deeper voice joined in.

Dembe added his own tone to the song. Tapping the metal pipe in cadence with his singing, (Dembe joined Francis in singing) he smiled at Red, taking the offered lighter.

Francis sniffled from his seat, mournfully dragging the last of his smoke into his body, "That is so sad..."

Liz covered her mouth, hiding her giggle.

"Lovely rendition, boys..." Red nodded his approval, "Do you happen to know Tom Dooley–"

"That makes me cry." Francis scowled.

Ignoring Francis, Red continued on, "Or perhaps," he hesitated, his brow furrowing, "...What was that damn song you entertained us with the other day."

"He has to pick just one?" Dembe enquired, remembering Francis had regaled them with a few choices.

Francis evil-eyed the man. Dembe waved off the dirty glare, giving an encouraging thumbs up of approval.

"You sing!" Liz perked up thrilled that her friend had a pleasing singing voice.

"Like a jailbird." Silas quipped from the corner.

Snickering, Red tapped his pipe clean, nodding at the woman beside him, "He's quite the little warbler."

"Did I have to pee?" Francis was confused as to why he was standing.

Liz sighed under her breath, her shoulders slumping. Francis' attention span was that of a monkey distracted by a shiny object... most of the time anyway. Tonight, it was amplified to the extreme.

"No." Red pointed to the tray of pizza slices the boy had been intent on before getting lost in the Cosmo's.

Francis beamed happily at the newfound treasure. Snatching a large piece, he settled back into his chair, devouring the treat.

Red reached for the next container, breaking off a minuscule piece. He passed the supply around graciously. "When I remember that song, you will sing it."

Nodding indifferently, Francis held out his hand taking the newest batch. "I was in Montana once." he caught up to a long past conversation. "There was a mother of a thunderstorm but it didn't strike the Eiffel Tower or anything."

"The Eiffel Tower can grow more than six inches during the summer." Red added after the fact, "The high temperatures make the iron expand."

Dembe nodded patiently at nothing in particular.

Elizabeth tried to read the men present.

No one seemed impaired per se. She didn't know exactly what she had expected.

Red and Dembe just appeared more relaxed than usual.

Red always used an ottoman when... if he kicked back. Tonight he sat, long legs stretched out, like Dembe, making use of the coffee table.

Aside from Red having more than the usual number of interesting facts on hand, Liz couldn't understand most of what was being said because the guys never finished a sentence.

No one seemed bothered by the fact and what's more, seemed to understand each and every syllable muttered.

"Aren't you supposed to pack that down pretty good?" the woman didn't know protocol but wasn't it similar to smoking a pipe? The legal kind.

"Only sampling, baby." Red corrected the misconception, "we're going for taste and affect."

"If you consistently fart for 6 years and 9 months," Francis held up a knowledgeable finger, "enough gas is produced to create the energy of the atomic bomb." he waved a cheese stuffed pretzel around like it was Excalibur.

Dembe's brow furrowed, but he remained passively quiet.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Liz demanded to know.

"Weren't we talking about things expanding?" Francis was suddenly animated, "I've got another one," he seemed inordinately proud, "Cornflakes were invented to prevent masturbation."

Francis face fell, "It doesn't seem to be working with me."

Silas, who had been leaning against the wall, could not pass up such a golden opportunity. "A man will ejaculate 18 quarts of semen in his lifetime... you have exceeded the expected norm."

Francis was happy again.

Liz was getting a little hungry. Hadn't she ate an hour ago?

But that pretzel looked delicious.

"...Shit." Francis dropped his forehead into his hand.

Red glanced over as did Dembe. Both men watched and waited.

"Are you all right?" Liz was instantly concerned. She moved closer to the young man.

Francis cocked his head from side to side, "Oh man..." he totally approved, his tone soft and awe-inspired, "that one made my head expand."

Red took another hit off the same stuff, bobbing his own head, nodding silently.

Dembe shifted more comfortably into his chair smiling at the supplier who kept hovering about, presenting containers, talking amiably.

Francis drew odd little designs into his forehead.

Liz leaned forward, grabbing a pretzel.

She listened to the stilted communication wondering what plane of existence they were on...

"This can not be helping your headache." she sipped her tea absently.

Red was impressed with her perception, "I did indeed, have a headache," he hefted his pipe, "but this only helps, trust me."

"Do you want a pretzel?" she offered hers over.

Red's eyes deepened, "Can you 'do' a pretzel?"

The woman's expression altered, "Are you being uncouth?"

"Could be." the man philosophized, "there once was this woman in Marakesh..."

"Is this a limerick?" Francis asked.

Dembe sighed, "She was a student of the Kama Sutra... very proficient at the art."

"Not that one." Red wagged his finger back and forth disapprovingly.

"The chick in the dirty limerick?" Francis was... lost.

Liz reached out, smacking his arm in a bid to silence the man lest she distract Red and Dembe.

"Her sister?" Dembe asked.

"No, the other one." Red sighed heavily.

"I had a headache the other day," Francis remarked then grew contemplative, "or was it a sinus infection?" he questioned, then shrugged, "I thought I was going to die."

Liz rubbed her forehead, pushing against the gathering ache having suddenly realized, Francis had been one step behind in the conversation since she joined the fray.

"This one is just for newbies. It takes the edge off," Adam was animated as he presented his prize, "has a nice finish. It'll give mom and dad a nice buzz. Perfect when the kids are..."

He glanced around the room, something catching his attention. The guy had a very short attention span. He and Francis would get along well, Liz surmised.

Red pulled little pieces out of the small container, rubbing it between his fingers before picking something out and throwing it.

"Are those yucky?" Liz had noted the process before, "Why do you do that?" she asked conspiratorially, looking at Adam suspiciously.

She had to lean very close to be heard over, ironically enough, "The Sounds of Silence".

"Adam delivers top-notch product, I just prefer mine clean of stems and seeds." Red explained his actions. "Besides, I'm gonna load up on this one because it's weaker and will need the added space in the bowl."

"I saw lightning strike a cow before..." Francis commented. He had taken off his shoes and socks, counting his toes and fingers.

He seemed troubled by some obscure fact. Liz wondered if Francis was thinking about the cow.

"Seven percent of American adults believe chocolate milk comes from brown cows." Red shook his head woefully.

Francis frowned, "Are you implying it doesn't?"

Red continued on, accepting the challenge, "It used to frighten me that these people not only voted... but procreated."

"I'm missing a finger..." Francis murmured, holding his hands out in front of his face.

Red inhaled deeply, a contemplative look on his handsome features as he stared at the boy.

"...You're fine." he assured around the breath he was holding.

"How can you say that!" Francis gasped his disbelief, showing his hands as proof. "I'm missing limbs!"

Liz leaned, poking each finger, "One, two, three–"

"Slow down!" Francis focused his pin-point eyes, "You're going too fast!

She dipped her head, stifling her laughter.

"Okay... okay..." Francis nodded, his unblinking eyes wide and alert, "go ahead."

"One..." she started over, slowly counting out the man's fingers until reaching ten.

"Oh my God..." he wailed.

Liz sat back, content her work there was done.

"There's two missing..." Francis whispered his despair.

The woman beside Red looked at him with open wonder, drawing a throaty chuckle from the man.

"How many fingers do you think you have?" Red enquired.

Liz watched Red casually tilt his lighter, the flame igniting and burning the green lint. The herbs were fast disappearing.

He held his breath, patiently waiting for Francis to respond.

"I don't know..." Francis groaned his dismay.

Laying the pipe down, Red lifted his hands, showing the young man his wiggling fingers, "Ten, Francis."

Francis turned his hands about, curling the long fingers into his palms before unfurling them slowly.

"Well, that's well and good for you." he rasped. "What about us normal people?"

Red shook his head fretfully, "You'll survive with ten. Trust me"

Francis watched the fingers waving about slowly, "...Streamers," he complained somewhat coherently, "what the hell is in that pipe?"

"I told you to watch the laced shit..." Red reminded.

"Laced?" Liz sat up, suddenly alert.

"He's fine." Red sat back, patting her knee with his free hand.

"We need to make this a top seller." Francis pulled at his fingers, content they remained in place. "It's amazing."

Red blew out softly, allowing the smoke to roll off his tongue, "That would feel so good on your clit." it was his turn to lean over and share.

Liz's body tightened with longing, an erotic sensation traveling to her center having caught up to the imagery painted. She leaned into his arm, pushing her breast into the muscled flesh.

"Horizontal refreshment was a nineteenth century slang for sex by the way." Red shared again.

She opened her mouth to relay she would enjoy a little horizontal refreshment, right about then... but was waylaid by the man himself.

"This isn't bad, Adam." the man approved. "Probably be your best seller?"

"We'll make it up in volume if nothing else." Adam agreed, "I've got a few more..." he was off, across the room conferring with one of the two men who had accompanied him.

Liz's gaze fell on the other member of the small trio, sipping her tea absently.

The guy's eyes fell hastily as he noted her looking his way.

She shrugged mentally. He appeared uneasy now... fidgety.

Could be Silas' constant presence over by the doorway.

The guard had not left his post except for one brief second to confer with another guard who had vied for his attention.

She eyed him critically, noting Silas was favoring his side. She glanced at the clock, wondering why time was moving so slow. It seemed like the next shift would never begin and her guard needed his rest.

"Do you remember the name of that Sherpa in Nepal?" Red was asking Dembe.

"Kami?" Dembe was helpful, "Back in '98?"

"No, no..." Red waved his hand about almost theatrically, "the one is '53, with Edmund Hillary."

"Tenzig Norgay?" Dembe supplied the answer.

"Exactly." Red pointed sharply.

Both men returned to their pastime.

Liz scowled. She wasn't going to let this one pass, "What about him?" she demanded.

"Speaking of mountains," Red continued on, "did you know... were you aware, that Zurich is considered one of the twenty-five best places on Earth to live? Would you like to move there?"

"A lovely city." Dembe concurred. "Founded by the Romans. They referred to it as Turicum."

"Ehh... no?" Liz faltered at the sudden turn in the conversation. "I asked about the Sherpa guy."

"I think I was a Sherpa in a past life." Francis stated quite seriously.

"He complained about hiking the Foothills of Malibu." Red reminded sotto voce.

"Do you believe in that stuff?" Liz was curious. "Past lives, I mean." she felt she should specify which topic she was on.

"Who do you think I am?" Francis scoffed, "Shirley MacLaine?"

The woman sighed heavily.

"China is the best place to live." Dembe almost scolded the fact.

"It is quite picturesque." Red stated, "If you ignore all the glaring issues, that is."

"They invented something important..." Francis seemed relatively sure of the fact, "peanut butter or something cool like that."

He went off in search of peanut butter in the next instance.

Liz hung her head resigned, opening a fresh bag of chips. Understanding they all seemed to be communicating on a wavelength only they understood, she popped a chip in her mouth, intent on enjoying the show.

While it was frustrating to only hear short bits of their inner thoughts, she had to admit... she was fascinated by how quickly topics changed and how they all, aside from her, seemed to understand the thought process.

A sudden thought this should be part of psychology courses came... and went as quickly as the thought entered her mind.

"Did you know," Red inhaled the sweet smoke, his head easing back into the couch cushion, "peanuts are not nuts but seeds." he toed his shoe, easing it from his foot.

Liz eyes widened as the other shoe followed, both hitting the floor with a loud thunk. Red never took his shoes off until they were in their room.

"In fact," he continued on, "walnuts, cashews, almonds..." he lazily rolled his hand indicating there were more, "they're seeds too."

Where he came up with these random facts, she didn't know. All she knew for certain was that while odd, they were kind of interesting.

"Speaking of seeds, the man who planted the Johnny Appleseed trees didn't expect his fruits to be eaten, but rather made into alcoholic apple cider."

Smiling softly, she leaned closer to the man, "What else do you know?"

"The Chinese invented everything that is important." Red stated succinctly. "Papermaking, printing..."

"The compass." Dembe added regally.

"There were four..." Red searched his mind, which at this stage of the game was expansive indeed, "four great inventions."

"They invented ketchup." Francis reminded.

"Yeah..." Red nodded absently, "but that's not it."

All three stared out into various parts of the room, falling silent.

Liz's head fell back into the couch cushion, groaning her dismay before looking to Silas for help.

"Gunpowder." the man stressed, as though it should have been the obvious answer to the people sitting in that particular room.

"Yes!" Red smiled happily.

"What about that Terra cottage cheese army they found over there?" Francis was back full force, arms loaded down with goodies.

"Oh!" Liz stood hastily, helping the man unload his bounty, "I want these." she rattled a package of chocolate chip cookies.

"Terra cotta..." Red corrected. Francis frowned his confusion. "Never mind.." he sighed.

"They found the army." Dembe pointed out the flaw in Francis' thinking.

"Were they lost?" Francis queried. "What the hell kind of army gets lost?"

Dembe shook his head, his eyes closing, "The army wasn't invented."

"Well, somebody invented it." Francis debated artfully. "Harry Potter didn't conjure it up did he?" he seemed rattled by the idea.

"Merlin." Red chuckled his belief. "Much more powerful a sorcerer than a kid with a broomstick."

"Sometimes," Dembe deep timbre soothed Elizabeth's ears, "I imagine myself consorting with the Lady of the Lake."

"Hot chick..." Dembe had Francis' total approval. "Scotland has 421 words for 'snow'."

"You made that up." Liz was relatively sure. She pointed an accusing cookie at the guy. For a second there it concerned the woman she had followed Francis' train of thought from the 'hot to cold' metaphor.

"Sadly, no." Red empathized with the woman.

Dembe stretched luxuriously, "I so enjoy these sessions... much is learned."

Silas snickered from the doorway, "And forgotten the next day." he straightened slightly, lifting his voice, "Hey Francis, did you know banging your head against the wall will burn 150 calories an hour?"

"Yeah, that's an out and out lie." the young man countered.

Silas broke out into a hearty laugh, "...The Slovenia Incident?"

Francis threw him a side-ways glance, "We're not talking about that."

Red set there, head resting comfortably, eyes closed. A smiled graced his lips, "I've got you all beat."

Dembe had assumed much the same pose, "We all wait with bated breath."

"Wombat shit is cube-shaped." Red announced with a flourish.

The silence was deafening.

It did not last long.

"So what," Francis exclaimed, "so is mine if I'm constipated."

"And you thought you had him." Dembe chuckled lowly. The man mused thoughtfully for a long beat, "There is something I once read in Reader's Digest..."

"So it must be true." Red nodded sagely.

"In 1965, a patent was filed for a 'birthing apparatus'," Dembe continued, undaunted, "which would spin a pregnant woman around at as much as 7G's until their baby was flung out from the centrifugal force."

"Dembe!" Liz was horrified at such an outrage. "That is not funny, okay."

Everyone was afraid to offend for a few seconds.

Silas was holding his side to protect it from the quaking of his body as he tried desperately to hold his mirth.

"But it would explain Francis so well..." he pointed out to all present.

At which point, the laughter exploded.

Liz rolled her eyes, patting Francis' shoulder sympathetically only to find the man rolling with laughter himself. She gave up.

She put her hands on her hips, facing her adversaries squarely, "I have one which seems to apply." her eyes darted from smirking face to face. "The Declaration of Independence was written on hemp paper."

Red glanced over at her amid the chuckles and reluctant admiration displayed by his contemporaries. "I think I'm in love." he purred seductively.

"She's showing off again, Red." Francis beamed his pride. "You go, girl."

"Read a book." Dembe rolled his eyes, "Google isn't the answer to everything, you know."

"What Google doesn't know, Alexa does." Francis pulled a face. "Don't even pretend you knew that."

"It's okay Francis," she soothed, thanking him for the support.

Francis was instantly better, "Want a hit?" he offered to share.

"Francis!" Red's tone was sharp.

"What?" Francis was dismissive, hadn't they discussed this earlier. "You do want to try it, right? I mean... I wasn't meaning to pressure you or..."

Liz looked at the pipe the man held, its allure growing stronger with each minute spent here.

"...I ... I don't know?" she faltered, the decision surprisingly difficult. She sat her chin on Red's shoulder, "What's it like?"

The man hesitated, "Would you have asked such a question a month ago?"

Red felt the weight of a problem he hadn't noted before. Was association with him forcing Elizabeth to do things she might not attempt otherwise?

"I'm not a child, Red." she wasn't certain if she should even have to ask permission of the man. "I can make my own decision."

"Is it a decision you would have made on your own, had it not been easily accessible." he clearly doubted the fact. The man arose.

Dembe followed suit out of habit.

"I never should have brought this shit in here tonight."

Silence fell over the room.

All stopped in their tracks, waiting, breaths held. Red started for the door, Liz hot on his heels.

"What's the big deal?" Silas' deep voice broke the tension and silence. "All her buddies at work do it... it's not like you're offering her the hard stuff."

Red shifted a cold, empty stare, "I wasn't offering it to her at all."

"Lighten up." Silas' tone softened. "Where's the real harm?"

"What do you mean, all my buddies at work?" Liz was flabbergasted by the guard's implication.

Large blue eyes sought Red's bloodshot ones.

"Not as white washed as you thought, huh?" Silas was blase about the whole thing.

The conversation was kept between the four of them. Dembe stood off slightly, his eyes keenly aware... watchful.

Red cocked his head sharply to the left, his mood altering slightly.

"What does he mean, Red?" Elizabeth's gaze shifted between Silas and the other object of her interest.

She moved closer, lowering her voice, "Who is he talking about?" she couldn't fathom any of her colleagues doing something so totally illegal.

"It's like drinking a couple glasses of wine," Red motioned, "a few beers."

Silas kept his expression neutral.

"The profession they chose can be a bitch, you know that." Red continued.

"I'm not judging them." Or was she? Did she feel unsettled that one... or more of her contemporaries–

"It makes the stress more bearable." Red felt compelled to offer excuses for her friends but he wasn't exactly sure why? In doing so, perhaps he would find one which suited himself.

"Well... of course," she strived for an open outlook, "I mean, if Cooper–"

"Not so much Cooper," Red sing-songed his head, "...Ressler..." he shrugged lackadaisical shoulders.

Liz's mouth fell agape, "Ress?"

"Occasionally, Aram." Red liked the guy better when he was high, actually.

"Aram?" Liz was shocked. "No! No way!"

"Oh, yes..." Silas assured her.

"Samar, if she's on assignment and it's required." The woman became softer, gentler. The dark eyes smiled more Red had noted.

"Or if you approach her just right..."

Red threw Silas a dark glare. The guard's mouth twitched irresistibly, but he shut up.

"I... I don't know what to say." how could she not have known such a thing about her...friends?

Especially Ress, who read her the riot act about proper procedures and what not.

Moments passed.

Francis arose, crossing the area slowly. He came alongside the woman.

"Why are we all over here?" he looked back at the expansive area.

The room almost glowed with a Moorish blue mist.

Streaks of colored lights whizzed by on the walls.

Shadows seemed elongated, exaggerated.

Music pounded into the brain but the steady beat somehow calmed the heart.

"Well, I will not be the only one who hasn't tried it." Liz was adamant.

"You think an aspirin alters your mental capacity." Red warned putting a restraining hand on the woman's arm. "Have you ever even smoked a cigarette in your life?"

Liz felt her cheeks flush. All eyes were on her.

Dembe's were gentle and patient. Silas' were sarcastically amused. Francis' were... blank and expressionless.

Red's were... very concerned.

"I... I have." she lifted a defiant chin.

"What, that one time Sam caught you?" he remembered that one.

Sam had flipped his lid. It took Red an hour to calm the man.

It was a normal teenager thing... it's what they did. Smoked, drank and had sex in the back seat of cars.

Well... all except Lizzy.

The man read the determined set of her mouth.

He relented, his hands spreading graciously, "If it's what you want."

Liz wasn't sure but she couldn't back down now.

"You can back out, Lizzy." Red stressed, giving her an out... hoping she'd change her mind.

She turned, pointing to the table, "Show me."

Francis gallantly waved her on, following the woman's path as she practically skipped back to the couch, her eyes eager and excited.

He glanced back over his shoulder, damning himself for bringing it up when he saw the dejected set of Red's shoulders before the man straightened his posture.

"She'll be fine, Red." Silas muttered. "It is better she is here, safe, with us."

Red nodded aside, watching the woman take her seat as Francis took a new pipe Adam handed over.

"If she did it with Aram..." Silas pointed out, "or even Samar, she'd be down on her guard." he reminded. "I'm here... you're here. She'll be fine."

Red blew out a long breath, "I just didn't..."

"I know." Silas sighed as both men watched Francis showing Liz the basics.

Red set his jaw, working his way back to her side. Dembe set back into his chair, getting comfortable.

Silas shook his head slowly, still feeling the waves of despair coming off Red Reddington.

Elizabeth Keen was the only pure and innocent thing in his world... and by association, Red believed he tainted that innocence.

When in reality, by subjecting her to the harsh reality they all lived in, Red was allowing Liz a safe space to broaden her outlook, gain confidence and a street savvy know-how she needed in her line of work.

Besides, Silas honestly believed after tonight, they would not repeat this little endeavor.

Elizabeth was just curious by nature and needed to know.

Once she achieved that knowledge, she would move on to the next unknown.

If anything, to see her facing this unexplored activity with such determination made him very proud.

Unlike a kid not wanting to leave their mothers side out of fear or shying away from a new exotic food... Liz was ready to step out on her own and take a bite out of the new experience.

Silas stepped back into his alcove, leaning casually against a nearby chair.

His eyes scanned the room and passing guard outside the windows, doing exactly as he had promised Red Reddington.

"I'll work the lighter." Francis ended the tutorial. "Are you sure you want to do t–"

"Francis..." she sighed, holding her pipe aloft.

He glanced at her shaking fingers which negated the determined set of her eyes. Nodding once, he flicked the lighter, holding it over the small bowl.

Two hits in and the woman's limbs felt oddly heavy. She felt tingly and warm.

She was having trouble controlling the cough. No one else had coughed.

"Light weight." Francis teased, seeing the effect the drug was already having on the novice.

Liz shook her head, blinking as the lights of the room slowed considerably. The music had a dreamy quality to it.

Like one of those old 45 vinyl records slowed down to a crawl. It was soothing in a distorted sort of way.

It was not an unpleasant state at all.

She tilted her head, and it felt like it kept moving.

She put her hands up to stop the fluidity of the movement.

Red sat close to her, his gaze intent.

"Do you want to stop?"

She kept her eyes closed, "No... but don't leave."

"Not going anywhere." she was assured.

Red sat back, alert and functioning.

The woman had turned a blind eye to most of his activities of late.

He had wanted her closer. He had wanted her to be a part of his world.

Not this part though...

It bothered him terribly that he allowed her into this seedier side of what he had become.

Was he changing who she was?

He looked at her half mast eyes, her entire manner altered from minutes before... that's what this shit did right?

Was it a bad thing? He had never thought so until...

"My heart is beating so fast." she put her hand over the area.

Red's brow furrowed. She shouldn't be experiencing that. Just the opposite.

Was it just nerves?

"Come here." he welcomed her into the comfort of his arms, hoping to crush any anxiety creeping in.

Liz scooted into the security offered, snuggling in. She laid her head onto his chest, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart.

Red's fingers trailed a pleasurably searing trek over her temples, his hand languidly brushing the side of her head absently.

Elizabeth sighed lightly letting the weird feeling flow through her body.

"I'm all floaty." she smiled at nothing in particular.

"You need something in your stomach." Red waved the next round of product aside, starting to rise, "I'll get you some food."

"No, no." the woman waved his efforts aside. "I'll get it. You stay." she smiled down at him.

Had it taken an inordinate amount of time to stand? She wondered absently, dismissing the thought in the next instance.

She traipsed to the long bar, checking out the array of food set out on decorative plates.

Had she done that? Well, what a good little hostess she was turning out to be.

She giggled at the thought.

"Hey..."

Elizabeth frowned hard at the hand touching her forearm, following the arm attached up to the owner's face.

Her own face hardened.

"No, hey... I wanted to say I'm sorry for... before, ya know."

That guy Travis was standing beside her.

"You're too close." she retorted, pointing a finger at the man.

He stepped back instantly, "Oh... sorry."

He glanced nervously at very vigilant guard whose grey eyes bore into his with a steely glare.

"I was out of line. I thought if you were of a mind, you know?"

"I wasn't and I'm not." Elizabeth's mind wandered freely and for a second she forgot her train of thought. "...But it's okay. But go away now." was all she truly wanted.

The guys eyes hardened for a brief second but then he smiled.

Elizabeth felt creeped out.

"Okay, just wanted to clear the air."

"Good luck with that." Elizabeth waved her hand trying to move the heavy smoke floating everywhere.

Travis ducked his head, heading for the opposite side of the room.

Red had patiently watched the exchange.

He was worldly enough to see some sort of connection had been previously made between the two people he focused upon.

Lizzy had evidently handled the matter sufficiently. All the same, Red's stare was a cold, calculating one as it met the tall, gangly man's.

Travis smiled instantly to alleviate any possible misconceptions.

Red wasn't buying it, clearly.

The guy cleared his throat, shifting his gaze to a safer subject matter.

Red continued to stare however and within seconds, Travis had arisen, seeking out his contemporaries just as Lizzy plopped down next to him nibbling on her snacks.

Even as Francis and Lizzy chatted amongst themselves, Red held his vigil.

Dembe and Silas glanced at one another, then back to their friend, waiting with bated breath for the explosion.

Both tensed, ready for action when Red abruptly shoved at the table with his foot, sending it sliding in a glide across the hardwood.

Silas stood slightly, one foot perched on the rung of his chair as Dembe clasped the arm rests...

Francis stilled at the quick movement, darting his eyes Red's way, fighting for clarity in the murky surroundings.

Red stood, holding his hand out to the woman.

Liz glanced at the other's in confusion at the sudden change but took the offering only to be pulled into Red's warm embrace.

A soft blush covered Elizabeth's cheeks, being the center of attention, before suddenly being drawn into Red's sphere.

His large hand settled about her back, his fingers wrapping about her smaller hand.

She quickly fell into step with the man as they swayed to the romantic, yet haunting, melody which filled the surrounding space.

Rubbing his cheek against the soft strands of her hair, Red spun them slowly, his dark eyes settling on his foe.

Tearing his eyes from the couple, Francis glanced at Dembe and the guard intently focused on Red... and the problem at hand.

Francis smiled, finally understanding. Though he missed whatever transpired, it was obvious to him Red was staking a claim.

Francis hummed the melodious tune, smiling warmly at Dembe as the man relaxed in his stance.

The other occupants in the room stilled in their movements, afraid to break the spell they were under.

Francis had to admit, it had been a long time, at least over twenty years, since he had seen this side of Red.

It had been sorely missed.

He craned his head towards the guard, snickering. Silas turned the dial on the lights, lowering them even more, setting the tone of the romantic atmosphere.

Possibly in hopes to quell Red's urge to kill their guests.

Though, Lizzy seemed to be doing the job well enough on her own.

The hazy fog of smoke and dancing lights, subdued colors flickered across their bodies, casting them in shades of blues, reds and deep purples.

Glints of shining illumination flittered across their faces, highlighting and drawing attention to their mouths and eyes in the brilliant light show.

Red lowered his gaze, his eyes softening when the woman wrapped her arms about his neckline, snuggling up into his embrace.

Neither noticed Dembe subtly restarting the song as the woman unconsciously pulled Red further under her influence.

Silas settled back into his chair, crisis diverted for the moment.

Red focused his full attention on the woman in his arms, his hand tracing the gentle swell of her hip.

The crystal clear azure depths, as stunning and unpolluted as the waters off the Maldives, lifted slowly.

Mesmerized, he watched the long lashes flicker, almost bashfully, before revealing the shimmering blue eyes just as the powerful lyrics washed over him.

His lungs seized, his breath stolen from him.

Grasping the woman, he pulled her closer, dipping his nose into her neckline needing her touch so badly.

Francis felt a pull in his own chest as he watched the man almost burrow into the woman.

How could anyone truly not understand how very much Red needed this... needed his Lizzy.

Francis' eyes trained on the couple and the shadow of their reflection dancing hypnotically along the wall in unison.

The sensual impression of their lovemaking only an echo of the deep love present between the two.

He harmonized with the singer, drawing an unexpected smile from Dembe and Silas.

Teasing the woman, Red's lips subtly brushed over her cheek, the silken skin heightening his senses. Leaning, his long lashes caught hers. The soft tickle fluttered against his cheekbone, urging him closer.

His full lips grazed the corner of her mouth, drawing a deep breath from the woman.

FOLLOWING LYRICS REMOVED per "rules".

Francis sang softly, his focus on the loving couple,

Capturing her lip, Liz bit at the plump flesh as Red's eyes bore into hers. Almost willing her to hear his inner thoughts.

Dropping his gaze, Red licked his lips at the sight of the rosy mouth swelling under his attention.

Francis continued, feeling the tension between the couple.

Lifting her hand, she tenderly cupped Red's cheek. The subtle sound of the shadow on his face scratched roughly against her soft palm.

Nuzzling into the gentle touch, Red's eyes fluttered closed, savoring the intimacy.

Francis' eyes softened as Red's hand curved into her dress, bunching the material tight in his fist, as the powerful lyrics washed over the couple.

Her lip quivered as Red's eyes flashed with pain as the words hit home.

Francis fought at the knot in his own throat.

Red's dark eyes penetrated hers, needing Liz to understand how long he had waited for this... for her.

The young man blinked against the gathering wetness in his eyes, understanding Red's desire... his need for companionship, for her.

Tears skirted down Liz's cheeks as she felt every aspect of the man.

Did he feel healed by having her in his life as much as she felt complete with him in hers?

Threading his thick fingers through the silky tresses, Red cupped the small head in his hand. Drawing her closer to his mouth, his lips just barely touching the inviting ones.

Francis choked out, his breath taken by this powerful moment, wishing he too had someone to call his own.

Liz gasped as Red's pupils contracted, the pinprick orbs fluctuating, showing his arousal.

Francis fought to breathe, as Red pulled the woman tightly against his body slowly dipping his head, the love between them startling.

Red captured the tempting mouth, swallowing her sharp gasp.

She trembled against him, the emotions... the sensation of his deep yearning for her, overwhelming.

Francis felt the ache in his own chest that Red must feel at this point, knowing how very much the man needed Liz's love.

Tightening his embrace, Red lifted her into his frame, gently flicking his tongue against the rosebud mouth, demanding entrance.

Opening for him, she sighed shakily, the bruising kiss robbing her of any equilibrium.

Backing her into a wall, Red furthered his loving assault. His hand curled about her waist, drawing her flush against his body. His other cupping her bottom, the large fingers kneading the supple flesh.

Francis breathed just as shakily, a sudden wash of melancholy overtaking him.

The song floated away in a rising crest of strings before flowing into another sensual ballad. Not that either seemed to be aware of the fact still caught up in their passionate embrace.

Shifting embarrassed eyes, Francis breathed a sigh of relief finding the guard focused on the couple and not his uncustomary display of emotions.

Silas worried his thumb across his lips, sighing heavily. He knew of Red's longing for Elizabeth and even now knew the man grasped hold of it with both hands... afraid it would slip away.

But then, they had reason to feel as they did. Red had lost his family... and he, Anya.

No one more than he, understood the desire for a soul-mate.

Movement in the corner of his eye broke the moment. Shifting his keen eyes, he zeroed in on Adam crossing rapidly, approaching the pair.

Red sensed the nearing intrusion, growling under his breath. Breaking the lock on the woman, he turned dark eyes on the interloper, barely controlling the urge to strike out when he felt the woman's panted breaths against his neckline.

He needed her... not this shit.

Adam stilled in his tracks, his head lowering respectfully. Waiting...

Taking a deep breath, Red kissed the pouty mouth once more. His groin stirred when Liz mewled softly as he pulled back.

"Why don't you get us a drink, baby." his roughened voice coaxed silkily. "I'll only be a moment."

Lowering to her feet, she nodded dejectedly, pushing her bottom into his warm palm.

"I promise..." he soothed, squeezing the rounded flesh. He pat her gently, pushing off the wall, allowing her room to move.

Red watched the sway in her hips as she crossed the short path, collecting their drinks as she spoke quietly to Francis and Dembe.

He turned his eyes, the dark orbs menacing. He inclined his head after a second, allowing Adam's approach.

"Hey man," Adam sent a scathing glare back at Travis, "I've been informed there's an issue going down... am I right?"

Red remained silent, his gaze a direct one.

Adam swallowed hard, "Look... all I want to do is sell my stuff and not piss you off." the guy was sweating profusely, "I was stupid to bring the asshole but... he's one of my distributor's and..." he swallowed again.

"I would consider a change in distributor's." Red suggested deliberately.

"You know how it is," Adam was practically whining, "you can't get good help anymore. This guy thinks he's irresistible to chicks... can't keep it in his pants, you know?"

"A guy could get it chopped off that way." Francis pointed out as he came alongside the men.

"Yeah..." Adam's day was going from worse to dismal, "yeah, well... he's tried to make it right with your old lady..." and at Red's altered expression, "not that she's old... oh, God." he winced, "It's just an...so anyway." he stopped for a breath.

Red remained pointedly silent.

"Look, all I'm trying to do here," the guy motioned dejectedly, "is trying to make a living. I came from shit... I don't want to go back, all right."

Red tilted his head slowly, the light slate-blue eyes giving away nothing.

"I'll get rid of the problem. I'll send him home if you–"

"No one leaves once the deal has begun." Dembe vetoed the suggestion all too quietly, the dark eyes as unreadable as Red's.

"No... no, sure. I get that." Adam got that. "I'm just trying to keep this thing contained. So..." he spread his hands haplessly, "I'm open to suggestions here."

Red took his time in a reply, "I've always found, you're only as good as the people you surround yourself with." he hated ending his sentences with a preposition, but grammar aside, "Men like him," Red motioned his head, "are always a liability."

Adam scowled, following Red's meaning, "...He's family." he stated his despair.

"Worse kind of liability." Dembe nodded sagely taking a hit off his pipe.

"It's your decision." Red shrugged, retaking his seat, "But when the shit hits the fan, don't expect any leeway from me."

Adam looked deeply concerned.

Elizabeth made her way around Adam's tall frame, plate in hand. She sat, handing Red their drinks.

Adam envied the woman. She clearly had this man's total approval.

Liz sat her plate on Red's upper leg, nibbling delicately on a carrot.

"Orange food makes your poop look a Wombats." Francis pulled a face having noted her choices.

"Are we okay here, Miss?" Adam needed some sort of confirmation.

Elizabeth lifted vague eyes, "...Are you talking to me?" she motioned to her person, surprised to be singled out.

Adam hastily checked with Reddington. Just receiving a cool stare, he worked on instinct.

"I thought there was a problem," he jerked his thumb to indicate, "I wanted to apologize personally if one of my–"

"Oh..." Liz got it, "No," she could feel Red's eyes, moving carefully, "no, everything is fine... really." she assured Red more than Adam.

"Is everything fine, Mr. Reddington?" Adam needed concrete confirmation.

Red considered his options.

This was an ongoing issue he had intended to speak to Elizabeth about.

It was a Catch-22. And not the likes of what they had faced in Las Vegas and with Brad.

If a man approached, which men were known to do with a beautiful, young woman... choices had to be considered.

His instinct told him to simply beat the bastard to a pulp. It would eat at him if he did not follow his natural instinct.

It was eating at him now.

If he intervened somehow, she would think he didn't believe her capable of handling the matter.

He sensed the woman was walking a tightrope. She didn't want to make waves with his associates... didn't want her presence to interfere with business as usual.

As far as Red was concerned, his associates could kiss his ass.

No one he worked with was as important as Elizabeth Keen.

He would have to inform her and in no uncertain terms... that he didn't care what she did, if she felt the need to defend herself.

Even if some creep made her feel slightly uncomfortable, he wanted to know about it.

He wouldn't step in hopefully until a discussion of the matter had ensued.

He leaned conspicuously, kissing behind her ear. He smiled when she reacted, giggling.

"You're tickling me."

He chuckled sensually, enjoying her reaction.

Adam breathed out a sigh of relief, "Those two were hard hitters," he got things back on track hastily, directing the remark to Dembe, "not wise for the lady to try the next few, okay?"

Red crooked his chin, the feel of gentle kisses leaving him a little off-guard.

He glanced hastily finding Elizabeth snuggling ever so close. He made room for her, scooting slightly as her thigh nudged him enticingly.

"You smell so good..." the tiny nose nuzzled the hollow of his nape.

Liz felt the masculine prickle of shadowing on Red's leathery skin.

"I love how you smell," she closed her eyes to the erotic emotions washing over her.

Adam cleared his throat, grinning sheepishly.

Generally, Red would enjoy the hell out of such a little interlude but his senses were prickling in alarm, "Francis, did she take a hit off your–"

"No." Francis held the pipe away covetously. "She has her own... which is just the mom and pop shit."

Red examined Elizabeth critically.

"It's just the generic stuff, Red." Adam was quick to point out. "I would never–"

Red's scowl increased exponentially as he observed the woman's behavior.

She kissed him, her arms lovingly wrapping about his neckline.

The warm lips passionately intimate in nature, made his senses tingle in another fashion entirely.

While the man returned the antics, his mind was on another subject.

The man gently put a halt to any further display, "Tell you what, baby," he smiled down at the upturned little face, hanging on his every utterance, "why don't we take this to a more–"

Elizabeth looked about, jerking a startled exclamation, "Oh my, God..." she gasped, frantically searching for Red's stability, "the cops are coming!"

In the distance, far off sirens could be heard. They were so faint, Red was at a loss momentarily as to what she had actually referred.

He chuckled listlessly, "No, baby... there's no–"

"It's only an ambulance, man..." Francis affected his best Cheech and Chong accent.

Liz's eyes were wide with alarm, however.

"It's fading," Red assured, "there are no cops... I promise." he felt a twinge of guilt for her state, "See, no sirens now." he sighed mentally for Lizzy still seemed totally adrift, "Baby, I think it's time to stop now, okay."

"Oh..." she settled little by little, almost cowering into the protection of his embrace, "...okay."

"I swear to God, Red..." even Adam was picking up on the older man's vibes where the woman was concerned, "She didn't get any of the laced shit. I swear on my mother's grave. You said you wanted a few heavy hitters, so I loaded up for you and your guys here but..."

Red glanced at Dembe.

Elizabeth couldn't seem to get close enough to Red. Her skin literally crawled when he would move even a fraction away even for a second.

She grasp his forearms, clutching tightly, nuzzling him at every possible vantage point.

"...God," she couldn't take in enough air and she felt so drowsy.

Not warm and fuzzy drowsy but a heavy, almost hypnotic state which left her irritated yet... subdued, "What's wrong with me?"

She watched Red's lips. He had the most sensual mouth in the entire world. She could feel those thick lips on her flesh... tasting, teasing...

She moaned weakly, her fingers grasping his nape, dragging his mouth hungrily to hers.

Red allowed the move only for a fraction of a second, pulling back, "What the hell is going on here?"

Elizabeth was never so openly affectionate when strangers were about.

"Y-you don't... want me?" the thought devastated, tears threatened in the sapphire eyes.

"Fuck that..." he dismissed such a stupid statement irritably, "Look at me!"

His fingers forced her face up, his eyes examining the vacant gaze feverishly.

Elizabeth was listless now, allowing his every whim.

"Shit." he read the signs easily. "Some fucker spiked her drink." the bitterness and frigid iciness shocked even himself.

Those emotions were transferred to...

Travis... who had been standing apart from the other contemporary who had accompanied Adam this night... started visibly to be the sudden center of attention.

Silas' head jerked meaningfully to the little bastard. The guard moved his bulky frame with amazing grace and agility, his mammoth hands securing a rigid stay hold on Travis' clothing as Silas lifted the guy effortlessly aloft.

"You fucking little bitch." Silas' face was inches from the terrified man's, "I'll rip you apart with my bare hands! I told you–"

Adam was instantly there, attempting reason where none existed he realized early on, "We don't know for sure what happened here." he frantically sought Red's assistance, "He's going to kill him... please! Do something!" Adam was afraid to intervene where Silas was concerned.

He approached a higher source.

"I'll hold his coat." Red gently disengaged from a rather desperately clinging Elizabeth Keen.

"Don't go." she whispered piteously, "I can't stand it if... you go."

"I'm not going anywhere, baby." his mouth caressed hers hungrily. "Francis!" he handed her off to a capable friend.

"It's okay, Lizzy." Francis forgot all about his pipe and the remaining product. "He's not going anywhere, see?" he pointed.

Liz held tightly to Francis' hands which squeezed her smaller ones reassuringly.

Red approached Travis who by this time was one quivering mass of denial and desperation.

Silas held the guy by the scruff, his look a dangerously quiet one. He awaited Red's decision.

"Look, I'll do what has to be done here just..." Adam was desperate but Red wasn't sure of the exact reason as yet, "I don't want to know anything about it, all right?"

"For God's sake, Ada–" Travis screeched hysterically.

"Don't!" Adam jerked a shaky finger at the man, "You got yourself into this mess! I told you to keep it in your pants, but you just couldn't, could you! Now," the young man was livid, "I'm supposed to risk everything to save your sorry ass!"

Red waited it out.

"The future I've planned for my kids? My wife?" Adam was trembling. Red wasn't sure it was from rage or fear. "You know, above anyone else... what I've had to do to get to this stage of the game and you jeopardize–"

Words were simply too difficult.

Adam turned his face away, "What you said before, Mr. Reddington..." his voice was harsh with regret and anguish, "I understand it, I understand about...liabilities."

Red read the sincerity of the man. He straightened to his full height, tugging his vest down in back, turning his attention to Elizabeth Keen.

"...Do you also understand that–" Red turned back, his features bleak, "no one hurts what is mine without repercussions."

"I totally understand that, Sir." Adam knew how he would feel is someone, anyone, hurt or even disrespected his wife. "I can only apologize for bringing this into your home.

Adam had meant Travis.

"I brought it in." Red meant... more than Travis. His gaze was tender on Lizzy, "And believe me..." his voice dropped as did his spirits, "I'm paying the price."

He drew in a deep cleansing breath, "I want the product. The entire shipment." he turned to something over which he had control.

"The entire..." Adam's mouth fell agape.

"Dembe?" Red sought out his friend.

"I will handle the particulars." Dembe lifted a casual hand.

Adam knew a polite brush off when he heard one. He sought out Travis.

"Don't leave me here, man." desperation had turned to anguished pleading.

Silas jerked heartily, silencing the little fucker, "One more word and it actually will be your last."

Travis' eyes beseeched Adam but something in Silas' threat rang true so... he kept silent.

Adam was torn, clearly.

Red waited patiently for the guy's decision. It didn't matter to him one way or another.

Dembe sat an expensive looking brief case on the nearby bar opening the silver catch to reveal...

"Half now..." Red motioned, "half on delivery of the goods."

Adam scanned the neatly stacked hundreds. Row after row after row of them.

His kids college education was in that case... a new house out of the neighborhood, a good life for the new baby on the way...

"I've been in this country for six years," he ruminated quietly, his eyes never leaving the cash, "it hasn't always been..." his voice trailed away.

The guy checked on Elizabeth who sat huddled down close to Francis Holbrook.

"My daughter is just fifteen," Adam reminded himself, "fifteen... if anyone ever..."

Red could only guess on the man's thoughts.

Adam held his hand out.

Red took it.

"What are you doing, Amigo?" Travis' accent was suddenly very pronounced, his true ethnicity coming to the fore, "you cannot do this!"

Both men had been very careful to, well, not conceal but certainly not advertize their race.

"Pay them... give them back the dinero," Travis was beside himself, "I didn't even do it, she's fine. It was a joke that's all. A fucking joke! I said I was sorry!"

Silas' eyes hardened, his fist clamping down, knuckles white, "How's that working out for you?"

"Wrap this up." Red was anxious to get back to Elizabeth. "What's it going to be? I need an answer."

The woman sat quietly seemingly disinterested in the proceedings now.

"Compañero," Travis was scared shitless, "por favor!"

Adam's face set grimly, "Go take care of your woman." he stepped, clicking the briefcase shut, hefting it aloft.

"Que?" Travis' complexion turned a ghastly pale, "...Que?!"

"We will talk tomorrow?" Adam hesitated only slightly before addressing Red. "I will call you?"

Red nodded, "Dembe will show you out." he caught Silas' eyes, instant communication passing between them.

Red stepped strategically, his body blocking Liz's viewpoint.

Silas pulled his weapon instantly, setting it in the direct center of Travis' forehead. "How much?" he growled threateningly, "How long?"

Travis winced as the steel barrel was pushed meaningfully into his skin. "One pill.." the answer was immediately forthcoming, "Half hour... maybe twenty minutes."

Silas yanked the guy closer, his face a mask of frozen rage.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Red seethed his fury. "I should kill you where you stand." he moved, his manner more than intimidating.

Silas snapped, hitting out instinctively. The heavy blow sent Travis' head cracking sickeningly against a hardwood column. The sound imminently satisfying to Red's ear.

"Get that fucking trash away from me." Red snarled.

Silas jerked Travis, hauling his ass down the long corridor, the guy yelling and screeching the entire way.

"If it's a roofie, it will wear off." Francis had been gently questioning Elizabeth. "What the hell is in a guy's mind to fucking do that?" he murmured dispiritedly. "It's okay, Lizzy..." he soothed, patting the woman's back. "Silas will kill that prick for you, good and proper."

"What prick?" Liz was floundering, her mind too slow to catch up to all that was being said, "...Is Tom here?" she looked about absently.

"No, baby," Red stooped before her, "don't worry about it... everything is fine." he smiled softly his hand cupping the side of her face.

"Why do these things keep happening to me?" she wailed.

Not certain exactly what was happening, she knew what she was experiencing was not normal.

"Is this what it's like?" her voice shook.

If smoking that shit made a person feel this crappy... she pushed the pipe across the table, far away from her reach.

"Good girl." Red leaned, placing his lips to her forehead. "Now if only I had the foresight..." he mused.

"To what, Red?" Francis sensed the man's guilt. "There is nothing you did that caused this." he motioned to Liz who had leaned into Red's comforting embrace. "Where is the harm in a little smoking? Really?"

"I open up the door and shit like this just floods in." Red shook his head, his large palms soothing, caressing Lizzy's back and shoulders, "I thought..."

Francis waited but Red had fallen silent, "...You thought what?" it was encouraged.

"I wanted her to see my world... to accept all that I am." Red closed his eyes for a beat, "It wasn't enough the other way."

Francis sat back, sighing heavily, "What guy doesn't want acceptance. Even his dark side."

Red wasn't pacified.

"You can't shield her every second of the day," Francis reminded, "give her a little credit for God's sake. She's resilient, capable and a hell of a sight stronger than you think she is."

"What if that fucker's plan worked to his advantage?" Red growled.

"Don't fight." Liz asked, her palm going to each man's chest front, "Can't we all just get along?"

Francis chuckled away the pent-up frustration, "Yeah, Red... come on. I love you, man."

"Aww, that's so sweet." Liz was touched.

"Tell him you love him too, Red." she pleaded, "let's all just love one another."

"What a wonderful would this would be." Francis commiserated, finally sensing some sort of humor in the situation.

Red threw him a stare.

"Oh, lighten up. She's going to be fine." Francis patted Liz's head affectionately sorta like a favored pet. "I've got this covered, so go maim and kill the little prick that started all this." he motioned, "It'll make you feel so much better."

Red sighed mentally, examining the woman worriedly, "I want Kaplan to look at her."

"Then you call her at three in the morning." Francis suggested, strongly, "She'll tell you what I'm gonna... let her sleep it off."

Red didn't think he would follow that advice at all.

"Don't call Mr. Kaplan," Liz whispered secretively, "she doesn't like me. She'll be mad I smoked shit."

"She doesn't like anyone," Francis stated, "don't take it personally."

Liz looked at Red, those big blue eyes ripping his heart asunder, "Baby, she can get this stuff out of your system so much faster."

"Don't tell her I smoked–"

"That shit. Sure." Red knew that was one promise he would have to break, but it was for the greater good, surely, or maybe he could spin the tale so Kaplan didn't have to know everything.

"Sure." Francis echoed agreeably.

He and Red exchanged benign looks.

"Are you out of your fog?" Red wanted to know.

"Mostly." Francis self-evaluated.

"I have to..." the blue eyes were watching every move he made. He moved carefully, "...speak to Silas."

"Elizabeth?" Red changed tactics and manner his hands covering hers lovingly, "Can you go with Francis to our room? I'll call Kate, then get you something on a tray. You haven't eaten anything to speak of..."

Liz looked at Francis.

"He'll get you comfortable and settled in, okay?" Red ducked his head to catch her wandering attention, "Okay?"

"Sure." she said.

Red was having second thoughts, "Maybe I better stay with–"

"You don't trust me to do a simple meet and greet?" Francis was hurt.

"Meet and gree–"

"You know what I mean." the younger man grimaced, "I didn't want to say babysitting in front of..." he cocked his head to Elizabeth Keen.

"I'm Red's baby." the woman piped up cheerfully having heard half of the sentence in truth.

Red's heart softened, "Yes... that's right."

Liz snuggled up into the man, ducking her face into Red's neck, sniffing the man to her hearts content.

"Ugh... sugar shock." Francis moved onward, "Come on... baby." he smirked.

Red chuckled quietly when the woman turned on Francis, frowning hard.

"Red's baby..." she repeated firmly, smiling impishly up at him.

"You're only Red's baby, huh?" Francis grinned at the woman nodding seriously.

Red's eyes softened on their own accord. He truly hadn't expected to hear something like this from her.

He had read that when you called your woman baby, it caused instant emotional stress relief. He had to wonder if there was some truth to the statement because when he used the endearment with Lizzy, her eyes lit happily. She was more relaxed and content.

He knew when he said it... he felt at peace... yes, and happy too.

Red stared down at the woman. She was chattering away as if she had not a care in the world.

He set his chin on the crown of her head, vaguely listening to what Francis and Lizzy were discussing.

"How about lizard tongue?" Francis asked, drawing Red back into the fray. "That's a great nickname I can call you."

Liz scrunched up her nose, shaking her head that she didn't like it. Red smiled at the seriousness of her expression.

"Sweetheart," he rumbled softly, "I want you to–" he hesitated when the woman turned away from him, sighing heavily.

"I sense a problem." he kissed the shoulder available to him.

"Now, what's your malfunction?" Francis wanted to know.

She sought out Red's gaze, her own definitely annoyed.

"What the hell did you do to piss her off now?" even Francis picked up on the faux pas.

"I didn't do anything." Red grinned at the woman but her scowl begged to differ. "Or... maybe I did."

Liz leaned towards Francis, waving him closer. She shared a confidence.

Red leaned forward, straining to hear what was being said. Francis sniggered his amusement.

"He didn't." the man tsked, chastising Red with an admonishing glance. "That bastard called you 'sweetheart'?" Francis shook his head with disgust. "Damn him."

Liz sighed heavily, appreciating Francis commiserating with her. She refused to even looks Red's way, enjoying her sulking tremendously.

Forget the fact she still was hugging him, she wasn't going to give him the time of day until Red said what she needed to hear.

Which, just amused the shit out of Red.

The man bit his lip, hiding his smile.

Francis continued a serious conversation with the woman.

"But you know, you are his sweetheart." the man reminded, tongue-in-cheek.

Liz batted those large stoned eyes, nodding a little in agreement, following so far.

"You're also his Lizzy." Francis' lips quivered as the little chin jutted out obstinately.

She now ignored both of them.

"Well, now I know what I did wrong." Red nodded his understanding.

"If we told you once..." Francis rubbed salt in the wounds, "we've told you a thousand times." he cocked his head, "It's baby... baby... baby."

Red beamed at the little face, dropping a kiss to her cheek, "...I'm sorry, baby." he rumbled deeply, nuzzling the soft cheek.

Liz pushed into the affection, a smile lighting her face. She turned rewarding Red with a kiss.

She stretched up on her toes, nuzzling Red's nose with hers which drew a soft chuckle from the man.

She sure was expressive when she was lit.

Speaking of which... he had an issue to handle.

"Baby, go with Francis." he started to transfer her into Francis' capable hands but was waylaid when the woman puckered her lips in an over exaggerated manner, signifying he was about to commit yet another cardinal sin.

Red obligingly lowered his head, obeying the silent request for a good-bye kiss. He smiled against her lips amused and charmed by her manner.

She literally skipped towards Francis, linking her arm through his, "...I have to pee."

Red's mouth quirked irresistibly, "Watch her."

Francis crossed himself in a semi-religious manner, "I'll get her snuggled up safe and warm... as God is my witness."

---

Red's steps were swift and sure but to be honest he couldn't be certain of the direction he needed to go.

He activated the Comm he had retrieved from his office.

"...Silas, on my way," he informed his head guard, "...which would be where exactly?"

"It's being handled," a curt reply was immediately forthcoming, "take care of Liz."

"I believe I asked–"

"I said..." Silas' tone was brittle, "he is being handled... or don't you trust me to do that now?"

Silas was in pain, he should be in bed. Red knew that. Just because the guy was up and functioning didn't mean shit at this late date.

Red took the man's state into consideration, "I missed it too." he grumbled, understanding Silas' emotional state for what it was in both men's book... direlection of duty, "I didn't see the cock sucker do the deed either."

"According to shitbag, he was only trying to do you a favor," Silas' tone was contempt itself, "said he was trying to cement good relations between Adam and you."

Red stopped in his tracks.

"How far do you want me to take this?" Silas asked, "Cause I have no problem seeing it through to the endgame."

"I know that." Red nodded, his shoulders relaxing a tad.

The silence came, and it was semi-comfortable now.

"...I feel responsible."

"That's not on you." Red stated tersely, "Did you hear that."

"Yeah," Silas' tone was back to normal, "I heard that."

Red ran a weary hand over his face.

"Not on you either... we have the douchebag who is responsible." Silas reminded.

Red rubbed his eyes, "Put shithead on ice. I'll decide after..." he had lost that 'killing' feeling.

"If that's what you want."

"It is for now." Red hoped any decision he made could be a logically thought out one but you just didn't ever know in life.

He turned about, retracing his steps.

"Make this the worst night of that son-of-a-bitches life."

"Copy that." Silas signed off.

Red felt better as he rounded the corner of the hallway which led to the South wing of the house.

That good feeling went away in a flash as he witnessed the scene taking place before him...

He must have been a good fifty meters away, but he covered the distance in record time.

---

Elizabeth was perched on the side of the pool looking down into the crystal depths below...

The sparkling, shimmering blueness was almost hypnotic in nature.

It drew her closer... down... down...

Red hit the water at a full running gait, clothes, shoes and all... the force sent water splashing haphazardly high.

His body sliced the surface effortlessly, pushing hard into the deep end of the pool.

His strokes were powerful, bringing him closer and closer to Lizzy's limply floating body. Reaching out, he grasped her arm pulling her into his hold. Pushing towards the surface, he lifted her upward until hands came out of nowhere, lifting her quickly out of Red's reach.

Following her ascent, Red quickly broke the surface.

Francis was smoothing the hair from the woman's face, "Talk to me!" His tone, while authoritative, was by no means panicked... as Red's mind was, at that moment.

Lizzy's cheeks billowed. Seconds later, a warm gush of water hit Francis' face full force.

She giggled infectiously as the man swatted and peddled backwards immediately.

Liz rolled, giggling her amusement to see the man disappear over the edge and out of sight into the shimmering depths behind him in a spectacular splash.

"You little shit!" Francis broke the surface, sputtering, washing his face frantically, "You scared the fuck out of me!"

"Good!" Red barked, his own concern overriding the common sense that told him, the woman was just fine. "You can handle the situat–"

"She faked me out!" Francis tread water effortlessly, "Said she had to pee!" the young man scowled at the woman, then checked hastily down to the water he was treading as if to ascertain if the pool had been contaminated by said 'pee'.

"Uhh..." realization dawned on Liz, "I do have to..."

Francis sighed his relief as the woman's eyes widened, "Red! You came swimming with me!"

Red's jaw worked tightly, "Elizabeth... are you all right?" he needed someone to take something, anything, seriously.

"I'm 'A' okay!" she snapped off a smart salute before crawling to the water's edge. "Let's go again!"

"Get back here, dammit!" Red rushed after the woman, just missing her by inches as she took the plunge once more. "Dammit!" the man hissed as he went in after her.

Kicking away from the wall, Liz evaded capture. Laughing with abandon, she swirled about, relaxing in the warmth.

Red pushed towards her, capturing the slowly descending woman. Pulling her about face, he frowned his displeasure over her antics.

"Swimming makes you grumpy." the woman pulled a 'grumpy' face.

"You're not swimming," the man tightened his hold on her, "you're sinking."

Francis' powerful strokes had landed him 'on deck' long before Red who tarried with the slower moving woman.

"Arms up!" Francis called down as Liz reached the edge of the pool.

She lifted her arms obediently which Francis latched onto, lifting her effortlessly.

"Wheee..." she was deposited soundly next to a chuckling individual.

Red fluidly hoisted himself, shedding clothes as he neared.

"Your shoes are still down there." Francis had noted the brown leather laying at the bottom of the pool.

"My shoes are the least of my concern," he hastily lay his ear upon the woman's wet top, "Breathe in," he stated brusquely unaware he used his 'command' tone.

Elizabeth pushed back, turning pointedly aside, her arms crossing willfully over the area in question.

Her chin lifted defiantly.

Red was given pause for thought, seeking out a reluctantly amused Francis Holbrook.

Red's temper rose, "Cough, Lizzy!"

"Do I turn my head?" she bitched right back, not losing the aforementioned attitude.

Francis' head dropped down and Red knew instinctively, the guy was enjoying the hell out of his dilemma.

"I'm just trying to ascertain if you have any water in your lungs." he gritted.

"Ascertain... this." she flipped him off.

Francis stifled a chuckle... unsuccessfully.

"You think this is funny?" Red took his worry and anger out on a safe subject.

"Sure." Francis shrugged amiably. But then the man relented, "Hey, Lizzy..."

"What?" she replied briskly.

"Are those clothes wet?"

She glanced down, "Oh my God..." she scrunched up her nose her fingers picking at the saturated garment, "I'm all wet."

"Accident." Francis replied airily, "You know what would probably be wise?"

Elizabeth was all ears, "What?"

"For you to get into some dry clothes."

"You are absolutely right!" she started off post-haste.

"Hey..." Francis stopped her in her tracks, "Red is all wet too," he smiled benignly at a put out Red Reddington, "And I mean that kindly," he returned his interest to a patiently waiting woman, "can he tag along and dry off too?"

"Oh, sure." Liz smiled warmly at the older man, "this has been one strange night... hasn't it?" she questioned.

"I second that emotion," Francis nodded contentedly, "You kids run along now..." he smiled that shit-eating grin Red was slowly beginning to hate. "I'll check in with you later."

Upon seeing Red's look...

"Or maybe not?"

"You stay here tonight you little shit." Red grated as he passed, "You're as high as a kite. I don't want you running a perfectly good Aston Martin into a tree and wrecking the car.

Francis reached for a towel, "Wasn't gonna drive my car... gonna borrow one of yours."

"Like hell." Red called back over his shoulder.

It was his way of saying a reluctant, thank you, but he was in no mood to be actually forced to say the fucking words.

"I love you too, man!" Francis hit his chest twice, sending out his arm, his fingers poised in the universal sign of 'peace'.

Red returned a 'sign' all his own all of which Lizzy missed so intent upon holding her clothes away from her body was she.

Francis chuckled for Red's mood.

The night was looking up.

---

The silence in the bedroom was difficult for Red.

He followed Liz into the bathroom giving her a little space while she discarded her wet clothes.

He divested himself of his own, tying a robe about his waist as he carried the sopping garments to the sink.

The woman emerged, a towel securely tucked into the cleft of her breasts.

She smiled warmly at him.

He was a little taken aback, having expected her previous mood to have prevailed.

"...I love you." she scrunched her nose adorably, forcing a reluctant chuckle from the man.

"...You do, huh?" he leaned back on the sink, folding his arms over his chest.

"Yeah..." she approached slowly, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "do you know why?"

He mellowed in spite of himself, "... Tell me." he coaxed, ever so glad when the woman eased her way into his ready embrace.

"Well..." she mused overly long, and he knew she was deliberately taking her time, deliberately pushing her body into his straining one, "you're a pretty good kisser... as kissing goes."

"Am I?" he lowered his head, holding her eyes hypnotically, enjoying the slight catch of her breath as the luminous lids shut dreamily just a second before his lips made contact with hers.

She moaned into his parted mouth causing his organ to expand exponentially.

His arms tightened systematically as he deepened the kiss.

The woman's tongue played a sensual dance with his...

When she finally pulled back, his breath was more shallow than it should have been at such an early stage but...

She had been so giving, so open...

"You're a very nice man. I like... nice men."

"I can be." he knew he wanted to be... for this woman. "If anyone had told me ten minutes ago that we would be..." his eyes dropped to where their bodies melded together, "as we are, I would have called them a liar, to their face."

"Why?" she was puzzled.

"No reason," he moved on hastily, loathe to remind her of the 'reason', "you were extolling my virtues... do I only possess two?"

She pressed those luscious breasts into his chest, her arms lifting about his neckline.

"Let me count the ways..." an old poem flitted across her mind but the rest of the stanza vanished like vapor in a mist.

"That we've made love?" he trailed soft, breathy little kisses down her neckline, his voice husky with growing desire.

"No, no..." she scowled, leaning her neck gracefully for more of his pleasurable attention, "that you're a nice man."

"I prefer the other topic." he bit gently on the hollow between her shoulder and nape, eliciting a moan of delight.

"I fucking love those sounds you make," he tried very hard to assure she made them, "makes my dick hard."

Her fingers traveled over his sides, inching between their bodies.

He sensed their destination, allowing the move.

"Don't you believe me?" he smiled, the gesture disappearing in the next second as that little exploration trek found its mark.

He grunted savagely because a thought suddenly occurred, "...We can't do this."

Her fingers stopped their excruciatingly gentle trace down the side of his engorged cock.

She sought him out, "We can't?"

"I," he amended determinedly, "can't."

"You feel like you can." Liz was confused.

"No, baby," he had exhausted his patience but only with the world in general, "I can... I shouldn't, not when you are... like you are."

She glanced down her body mystified, "Should I put on a dress or someth–"

"No!" he answered too quickly, too loudly, catching himself in the next instance because all he really wanted to do was flick that towel loose, lift her leg and slide inside that hot, tight pussy.

That's what he wanted to do...

"No, what you're... wearing..." for lack of a better term, "the towel is charming."

She smiled charmingly, "Aren't you sweet."

"Another virtue," he sighed mentally, "Hard to live up to all those moralistic rituals at times."

"Doesn't sound like you." she concurred, her hands went to the ties of his robe.

Red instantly covered those busy little fingers with his, "You know what we should do?" he took a page from Francis' book...divert, misdirect...

"Yes." she assured him, her fingers wiggling about under his, her attention going back to her pastime.

Red shut his eyes, "Baby, you're killing me here."

"Oh?" she was instantly concerned, her hands stopping their activities, "Is your head hurting?"

"More than you know." he shifted his cock to a comfortable position, his hand easing over the poignantly aching head, "...No, sweetheart, what I mean–" he halted his train of thought for her countenance had altered visibly, "What?"

She lifted pouting eyes, her beautiful mouth trembling.

"What?" Red was totally at a loss, "Really?"

"You called her... that." a dark scowl creased her forehead, "I'm not... that." she lifted a scolding stare, "I'm... baby... remember."

She demanded he remember.

He remembered, "I apologize." he took for granted Lizzy was referring to Madeline Pratt, "but honestly, I never ever referred to her by that endearment. I swear."

"You didn't?" hopeful eyes sought his.

"I did not."

She snuggled closer, her arms embracing his waist, "I'm cold... you have to keep me warm," she sighed blissfully, "it's your job."

He smiled, planting a kiss on the top of her head, "It most certainly is. I would like nothing better but you remember, Mr. Kaplan is coming soon." he had found his salvation, "Shouldn't we get ready for her visit?"

"She doesn't like me." she warned.

"I think you're mistaken." he wasn't really sure of his facts on this one. "It just takes a lot of time for her to warm to anyone. Look at me." he gestured, "Look how she treats me."

"She loves you." Liz dismissed with a sigh, "All women love you."

"She tolerates me." he passed over the latter remark entirely. "She cares for me and I, her, of course. Is that okay?"

"Oh! Yes, Red," her eyes lifted, "I care for her too. I do!"

Red smiled, "You should get into your pajamas."

He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep pushing her away otherwise because he knew every inch of that delectable body hidden by that towel..

He wanted to touch it, taste it... revel in its glory.

"I don't like clothes." she grimaced.

"But Mr. Kaplan does."

Liz turned, making a bee-line for the closet. Red sank back on the sink basin, drained emotionally and physically.

---

"What have you been smoking?" Kaplan's gruff accusation caused Elizabeth to gasp her dismay.

Big blue eyes turned accusingly to...

"I didn't say a word!" Red held up pacifying hands, "I swear."

"I'm just so damned intuitive." Kaplan snapped, "No one had to tell me anything." the woman tsked, "I've got eyes."

Liz fell sullenly silent... for all of two seconds, unreasonably depressed suddenly.

"I told you she hates me." she shared with Red, whispering the statement, her voice quivering slightly.

Kaplan heard, of course, her hands halting their busy work for a brief interval.

She sought Reddington's eyes, her own resigned.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kaplan," Liz wanted the air cleared, "it wasn't my fault... it was somebody else's fault."

Kaplan drew in a breath, opening the IV line, "Drink the water." she motioned, "you are severely dehydrated... again."

Liz snatched the bottle indicated, drinking hastily.

She emptied another when the older woman handed it over.

"The medication will run its course." Kaplan couldn't help that, "The line will lessen the effect at least."

She trained a critical eye on the pouting brunette under her care. "Did you... take care of the man who put her in such a state?"

"Not yet." Red didn't want to discuss that issue. "He's with Silas."

That seemed to satisfy Kaplan's righteous indignation.

"Are you all right?" she approached Elizabeth slowly, her manner without its usual edge.

Liz lifted trusting eyes, "I'm fine, Mr. Kaplan." she smiled brightly, "Really, thank you for asking."

Kaplan lifted a brow but remained silent.

Red was shocked when the stern-faced woman reached out, gently brushing Liz's bangs out of her eyes.

"You must be more aware of your surroundings." Kate tried a smile but it only half succeeded. "People are rarely what they appear to be."

Liz nodded eagerly and Red noted, she had leaned into Kate's gentle touch.

The woman turned aside brusquely, studying Red's pinpoint pupils critically, "Do you need anything?"

"Have I ever?" he countered.

Kate huffed a reply, gathering her supplies.

"You interrupted my dinner, I'm going to the kitchen." Red was summarily informed.

"You were having dinner at three in the morn–" he shut up after the caustic glare he received, "Can I send for carry-out?" he offered to buy on his dime.

"I'm going to inform Nora that you said that." Kaplan arched her brow.

Liz cast worried eyes Red's way. The man sighed, patting her hand consolingly, "She was joking."

Kaplan remained silent on the matter though her brow moved an inch higher.

"I'll stay here tonight," she left the rest unsaid. In case of complications.

Red felt infinitely better, "Thank you, Kate... as usual."

"Tell Dembe to bring me a bottle of that precious wine he so covets..."

Red nodded, "Anything for you, Kate. You know that."

Kaplan glanced at the woman sitting so primly and quietly in bed.

"Goodnight, Elizabeth," she stated quietly, "Sleep well."

Red's heart warmed. He watched the small woman exit with no further word of farewell for the likes of him.

---

"Why don't you lay back, try to get some rest." he smiled down at the woman who looked so small in the gigantic bed.

Liz sighed, obeying, closing her eyes as she sank back onto the welcoming pillow. She stiffened, fingers clutching the covers frantically.

"The bed is spinning!"

Red was instantly beside her, "It'll pass, baby." he soothed, holding her tightly in his embrace. "It's all right." he whispered his encouragement, "I'm here."

Liz held onto him, clutching tightly, the spinning roller coaster ride she was on speeding faster and faster along shaky tracks.

She felt nauseous, her breathing deeper and faster, panic rising.

Red's stability kept her focused, centered.

"I promise, Lizzy." he knew what she was experiencing. "Just hang on, it will pass."

He closed his eyes, holding her ever so close, "This is why..." he grated his own misery, "I didn't want you to feel this!"

"I'm s-scared." she tried to burrow into his being.

"Yeah..." his voice was grim, "I know... I know." he stressed. He leaned into her, adding a measure of his weight. "It's getting out of your system... don't fight it, sweetheart."

He glanced rapidly to the steady drip of the IV line, "I could kick the shit out of myself for–"

"Don't," she clung to him for dear life, "I'm fine." she soothed his torturous mind, "I'm good, Red... just..." she breathed out, "hold me."

His powerful arms obeyed, taking the breath from her body. He eased slowly as he felt her relaxing by degrees.

"Don't let go." she whimpered, her full lips searching aimlessly for the sweetness of his mouth.

"Never." the man vowed, breathing directly into the warm hollow, the tip of his tongue flicking sensually to her waiting one.

The kiss melded into prurient possession within seconds, Red holding himself in reserve for her state.

His solid frame stabilized Liz enough that the panic started to ebb.

The warmth of his mouth working erotically on her lips enthralled and delighted her overloaded senses.

He could feel the heat of her center through the lightweight fabric of the sleepwear she had donned.

She had looked utterly ravishing when she had exited the closet earlier.

He had expected her to come out in one of his shirts and some panties...

He did not expect the little thigh length black chemise and matching panties she was wearing.

The triangle cups sat snug against her breasts, a tiny red satin bow sitting front and center. The top tapered off into flowing pleats of semi-translucent fabric that swished around her thighs as she walked towards him.

He had stood, rooted to the spot as the vision came nearer to him. His mouth watering. He had stared at the negligee for countless moments before getting his wits back. He grabbed her satin robe, hiding the teasing sight from his view.

She was his very own gift that he wanted to unwrap. He wanted to uncover those pert nipples... ease that tiny strip of cloth over the ample swell of that incredible backside...

He shifted uncomfortably, another pang of longing shooting through his ball sack, traveling the length of his cock.

His defenses were low tonight. That shit was messing with his head too... and his libido.

God, was it affecting that.

He had to get some space because if he didn't he'd wind up taking advantage of her vulnerable state which made him just as fucking wrong as that cocksucker Travis.

She was quiet now, the IV doing its job finally. The tremors had stopped. Her body was calming down.

He wished the same could be said for his.

His senses were heightened by the drugs he took. The mellow buzz had been replaced by something more... urgent.

He hated to disturb her but something had to give. If he stayed under the influence of that rather lethal body tonight, he could not be responsible for his actions.

"Baby," he tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, "my head is killing me."

Well, that much was true.

"Would it be all right if I took a quick shower?"

Liz stirred from her dreamlike state. She had been drifting in a very pleasant place, "Are... are you okay?"

"I'll just be a few feet away and I'll make it quick." Or as quickly as he could masturbate the problem away... "I hate to bail on you but... I'm in agony."

"Poor baby." she tried to rise.

"No... stay." he tucked the covers about her chin. "You rest... you need to rest."

"I want to shower with you." she stated sleepily.

"No, you don't want to do that." he managed through clenched teeth, "Kaplan wants you to finish your IV and get some rest, remember?"

"You... you won't be long?"

"I won't go if you–"

"No..." she smiled sleepily up at him for he had moved out of the bed a few moments back, "I'm much better now. Just... come back quickly. I can't sleep without you."

Red didn't believe that. She was already out of it.

He smiled finally, "Keep it that way."

He kissed her mouth gently, heading for the shower in the next instance.

Keeping the water stream low in case she had a nightmare or something, Red's head cleared once under the hot, pulsing spray.

He simply stood, keeping his thoughts on neutral subjects.

It was going to be a long night...

A part of him dreaded going back out there... facing his weakness for the woman.

Another part reveled in it.

So he stood quietly allowing the water to wash away some of the dirt of the night, some of the guilt...

His selfishness had almost cost Lizzy dearly tonight.

Did he need her acceptance so desperately?

He had some reevaluating to do. Some self-examination surely.

Finally, stepping out of his self-imposed exile, he reached for a towel.

Drying himself absently, having tucked a smaller towel about his waist, he checked on Lizzy.

She slept peacefully, one hand curled beneath her cheek.

A sweet pang shot through his heart. It was a moment which moved him.

Sometimes he loved Lizzy so much, it hurt.

In the best way possible.

The man closed his eyes, wearily crossing the room, moving closer.

He checked her IV then settled in the chaise lounge, close to the window. He lay his head back, staring out at a starry sky.

He found the constellation, Cassiopeia. The Queen on her throne.

Ah, Cassiopeia, more beautiful than the Nereid... hell hath no fury like a Sea Nymph scorned. Red mused.

It was the last conscience thought of the night.