June 4
It was an idyllic setting in which they drove.
Liz took in the serene countryside with large 'city girl' eyes, "I've never seen so many trees in my life."
Red's mouth quirked. He craned his neck, catching a glimpse of the other SUV behind them.
He decided on white this time. Less conspicuous. More 'family vacation' oriented, he hoped. Draw less attention to their presence.
One white, the one he and Lizzy shared, silver.
Dembe maneuvered the vehicle expertly through the two-landed highway system.
"It's so beautiful out here," Liz was still entranced by the scenery. She turned her head, seeking him out, "but... why cabins? Is it a prerequisite form of lodging out here?"
"We're not on Mars, baby," he quipped, "they do have hotels." he grinned at her expression. "But no, Lawford bought a retreat just offset to the one we booked." he explained.
A dark scowl still graced her pretty face.
"What's the matter? You a 'city girl' at heart?" he teased, already knowing the answer. "Afraid there won't be any Starbucks out here in the wilds."
Liz sent him a sturdy look, "I've roughed it before, Mr. Reddington." he was assured. "Sam took me fishing all the time."
"And you complained..." Red remembered the tales, "all the time, you and he were bonding over fish guts."
Liz sighed peevishly, "I did not." she lied, "I can clean a carp better than you can." she imagined.
"Well, good. That's what we're having for dinner tonight," Red sat back, "after you and Dembe catch them."
Dembe laughed his mirth.
The car fell silent.
Dembe counted in his mind, remembering what Silas had said concerning the woman's lack of stamina where speech was–
"There really are Starbucks here though, right?" Liz seemed genuinely concerned.
Both men found the remark amusing.
"...No," she needed an answer, "really." it was earnestly asked.
Dembe had pulled off on a well-paved road that winded this way and that up into what clearly was, private property.
The metal gate had been opened, welcoming them. But the further they drove, the more evident it was... the area was secluded and very set apart from the open road they previously traveled.
They pulled up into a circular drive and Dembe shut the engine down.
To her right, a spacious lawn stretched into infinity ending gradually, disappearing entirely as mammoth pines and cottonwoods swallowed it up.
Before her stretched majestic mountains towering the bluest sky Liz had ever seen.
She turned her head, her senses stunned by the quiet beauty of an ice blue river which gurgled and danced over boulder like rocks of magnificent hues.
"Oh my God," she breathed out a sudden fear, "I'm not really going to have to catch dinner..." wide blue eyes full of apprehension sought out an amused Red Reddington, "...am I?"
Red laughed his delight, shaking his head sorrowfully, "Oh dear, Lizzy," he lamented, "only if I wished to die of starvation."
"Yeah... is that a no?" she scooted out the car door he had only just exited, lifting inquisitive eyes.
Something more astonishing caught her interest, however, "...Is that..." she accepted his assistance to exit the vehicle, her mouth agape, "your idea of a little cabin in the woods?"
A two-story structure loomed large directly in front of the visitors.
A-framed with an enormous addition stretching out back, elegantly placed into a nearby hillside to blend in with its natural surroundings. Their new lodging took on the scale of a five-star hotel in Liz's eyes.
Gigantic windows surrounded the stained oak walls affording a spectacular view from all sides of the structure.
A long wrap-around porch with a rustic railing ran the length of the front and west sides.
Sets of colorful rockers welcomed one to sit and enjoy the show Mother Nature provided.
"Oh, Red," she clasped her hands beneath her chin, eyes bright and shining, "how utterly breathtaking. This isn't like any cabin I've ever seen!"
"Well, I'm not Daniel Boone." he philosophized having watched for her reaction, pleased he had surprised her.
Ressler pulled his car alongside the other, Agents exiting in droves.
Samar's lovely face echoed Liz's delight as she came alongside the woman, "Your United States offers breathtaking beauty, I must admit."
"Your accommodations are a little further down the drive," Red showed the woman a spot about two hundred meters away, "It's up on a hill so catching a signal will be easier and Lawford's place is just through that patch of Fir."
"We aren't staying here?" Ressler was confused.
"Samar is... if she so wishes." Red lifted the woman's hand to his lips sparing her his attention for a beat, "you guys will have to rough it."
"Yeah..." Liz had eyed the second cabin for sometime now, "that place probably doesn't even have electricity."
In truth, the second set of accommodations was just as beautiful as the first.
"This cabin only has four bedrooms." Red explained the problem.
"Only four you say." Samar managed a sad commiseration face.
"One should seek comfort when at all possible." Red stated his philosophy.
"There's comfort," Moore grumbled, "then there is excess. Is this all on the tax payers dime?"
"It's on my dime." Red smiled pleasantly. Never a good sign. "But if it makes you feel any better, I can scrounge up a tent and sleeping bag for your personal use if you would prefer."
The guy fell silent. Ressler chuckled for Reddington's comeback.
"No, Mr. Reddington," Wilson seemed enthralled by the surroundings, on the other hand, "this is simply amazing. It's very kind of y–"
"Shut up, Wilson." Moore snapped his irritation.
"Well, it is!" Wilson snapped right back. "And I for one, appreciate the hell out of his generosity. You know something, Moore..." the guy was agitated, "you have no class." the fact really seemed to bother the agent. "You really don't."
All eyes were on Moore.
"What I have is integrity." Moore's face was flushed with anger. "Maybe you all should try a little of that once in a while."
Wilson grimaced, "Whatever." he grated. "You should try loosening your asshole once in a while."
Moore stopped in his steps, his mouth falling agape. He wasn't accustomed to Wilson showing any kind of bravado, especially in connection with him.
"If we help with your bags," Wilson's mood brightened, "Mr. Reddington, will you help with ours?"
"You are the diplomat of the group, I see, Agent Wilson," Red nodded, "An agreeable exchange."
Dembe popped the hatch.
"After we get settled, we'll get eyes on Lawford." Red laid out a plan securing a couple suitcases in hand. "If that is agreeable as well?" he glanced at a sulking Moore. "To all concerned."
"I'm starving." Ressler's stomach was conveying the fact, "Can we order some takeout?"
"I think we can do a little better than that," Red said, "Lizzy, I'll get that." he took the suitcase from her hands.
"Hey, I'm not an invalid." she resisted his tug.
"Then why are you limping?"
"The ground is uneven." she flushed feeling Samar's eyes more than the men's.
"Your ankle is swollen." Samar motioned, "At these altitudes, that will be the case."
Liz looked down, having pushed through the pain for some few hours now. The ride in the car had taken its toll because gravity was working against her.
"I'm going to be a hindrance." she forewarned. "I should have stayed behind with Silas."
"I should have stayed behind with Silas." Samar murmured dejectedly. "No, Liz... you may not be as ambulatory as you like but your input is needed on this one, trust me."
Red was grateful for the woman's remarks. He had not heard the one concurring Silas but Liz had, her eyes blinking the shock away in time.
Samar leaned close to share a confidence, "Wilson tries, but he's green. Moore knows everything so there's no common ground there. I, for one, am ever so glad you are back on the team."
Liz beamed her joy, "Really?"
Samar smiled, "Go sit down. Lift that leg
"This cabin has a downstairs bedroom," Red sat the bags down, indicating a room off the main corridor, "Lizzy can navigate here. The bedrooms in your cabin are all upstairs."
"I miss my cart." Liz confided to Samar.
"Your what?"
"She has transportation at home but I was forced to take away her keys after she mowed down several of my guards at a very high rate of speed."
Red had taken the time to harass the young woman. It was one of his favorite pastimes anymore.
"It was only one guard, and he was fine." Liz aggravated. "You embellish any given story."
Samar took up for one of her own, "Your guard's reflex's are clearly off."
Red shut his mouth knowing a no-win situation when he heard one.
"Mr. Reddington, where would you like this?" Aram held up a valise.
This was one of those pivotal moments Red had waited for, "Just sit it on the bar, Aram. Thank you." he motioned, "I'll probably just camp out on the couch there."
The L-shaped divan was a sprawling sectional constructed of cushy leather and sensible pillows thrown about.
"In case Lizzy might need me." he smiled pleasantly.
"We have a system down." Liz interjected. "But... I can take the couch. I'm smaller and smarter than you." she smiled pleasantly right back.
Samar chuckled.
"I can see the writing on the wall." Red nodded sagely. The women were forming a tight-knit bond already. "We've had this conversation a hundred times before... minus the intellect remark... your leg will be cramped on the couch."
"Your entire body will be cramped." she continued, each knowing very well just where Red Reddington would be laying his head this night.
It was a show to be played out for the others, nothing more.
"I've slept in worse places."
"Yeah, yeah," Liz sing-songed her head, "your mother-in-law's house."
Aram chuckled at the bickering.
"He also sleeps with a gun, can you believe it?" Liz confided to those present. "Slept in a chair one night, woke up complaining about a peculiar pain in his side."
Red took the good-natured jabbing in his stride.
"Well, yeah," Ressler nodded knowingly, "this surprises you?"
Laughter erupted from those gathered.
"What?" the agent was lost, "What'd I say?"
Liz turned to Red, her eyes softening for the discomfort he had suffered on her behalf.
"Peas in a pod." she murmured.
"Get off the leg and ice it." he shrugged off the gratitude clearly shining in her blue eyes.
"Get off that leg and ice it." she mimicked playfully, "He's so bossy." she crinkled her nose over at Samar.
"In a nice way." Samar reminded, her tone a gentle one, "Enjoy it while you can."
Liz shrugged, finding a comfortable spot on the divan, "Oh look, Red," she propped her leg dutifully, "an ottoman."
She lifted innocent eyes.
The man's deepened, "She has a thing for ottoman's" he smiled tightly at Ressler whose expression was quizzical... and confused, "Freaky really."
"I'll say," Ressler agreed, looking at the woman oddly, "You've changed."
"Have I?" Liz queried, "For the better, I hope."
"Jury is still out." Ressler decided.
Liz chuckled lowly accepting the ice from Red's hands, "Service with a smile?"
"You move from that spot before I return..." he warned, "you don't get... dessert."
Liz picked up the man's double entendre, narrowing her eyes at him.
Samar barked her amusement, "Oh, that is just cruel and unusual punishment."
"I know her weaknesses," Red held Liz's willful stare easily, "no fruit cup for you."
"Thank you, Nurse Diesel." Liz imparted sarcastically, "You're so strict."
"You like that... right?"
"If I don't get any..." she left him hanging for a beat, sending the guy a message, "neither do you."
"Fair enough." Red relented before it got out of hand. "Tit..." his eyes fell meaningfully, "for tat."
Ressler sniggered catching the reference.
Samar sent him a look that quieted his mirth.
"Go get your guests settled," Liz grumbled, having been bested and knowing it. "Ressler has infected me... I'm suddenly hungry." she waved him off as if shooing a fly
"Gentlemen, and I use the term loosely." Red gestured towards the door following the slowly filing agents to the exit.
Samar waved goodbye to her contemporaries, "I'm gonna stake out the best bedroom upstairs." she hurried up giggling as Dembe rushed past her in attempt to top the stairs first.
"I actually believed you to be a gentleman, Dembe." she cleared the first landing a second behind the man.
Dembe waved a gracious hand indicating she should proceed him.
She inclined her head regally before once again making a race of it, her look a mischievous one.
Dembe renewed the good natured rivalry lagging behind purposely, Liz knew as she had watched the play.
"Rest that leg." Red's warm breath thrilled her nape and ear lobe. He had tarried just enough to give her fair warning.
He braced himself on the back of the couch, leaning dangerously close.
"I want to fuck you later..." his sensual demand titillated and teased causing the special spot between her legs to twinge with delicious awareness of his abilities, "hard and fast so... you better be ready."
He pushed off the couch, heading out the door without a backward glance.
Liz watched him move with that confident swagger easing his body forward.
She blew out a tremulous breath as the door snapped closed behind him.
Pushing restlessly at the seam of her pants, she eased the ache the man had created... just barely.
"He always has to have the last word." she mused.
It was going to be a long damned night.
Ressler had established a workable routine within an hour of their arrival and settling in.
They had spotted the target arriving at his resort shortly after the Agents set up their equipment but then, the guy just as hastily hauled his ass back in his Landrover and headed out to parts unknown.
"I told you guys one of us should get our ass down there." Ressler groused moodily.
"Our vehicles are too conspicuous." Red vetoed the idea. "Dembe will pick up a Jeep while we're in town, but relax," he continued, "Lawford is just going for supplies I'll wager. Which is what we should do as well."
"Hey, if the house is empty," Aram held up his electronic gadgets pointing to the area across the sparse thicket, "Now would be a good time for me to tap into his systems."
Ressler felt better, "You're sure the guy is coming back?"
Red called his own computer expert who tapped in to Lawford's GPS which located him in town, a short distance away.
Thirty minutes later, job accomplished on Aram's part, they all headed out for dinner.
Finally.
Driving back through the scenic surroundings, Dembe pulled up to a cozy-looking restaurant.
"Oh, no..." Liz muttered dejectedly seeing the long line of waiting customers. "Uh, Red," she lamely pointed to the lengthy line, "my stomach thinks my throat has been cut." she held her stomach trying to halt the rumbling.
Red smiled, helping her from the car as Liz's team pulled alongside them. They had all changed into more casual clothing to better fit in.
"I hope they come out with an appetizer tray." Ressler said, looking around for another place to eat.
"Oh, ye of little faith." Red motioned, leading his ensemble to the front of the line.
Which did not set well with one of the locals. A big guy with a mean looking expression on his face.
"Hey buddy!" he carped as Red passed, "The line starts," he jerked a thumb, "back there."
Liz's fingers dug into Reddington's arm, her body tensing. She cast a hasty glance up to Red's striking profile, her look a worried one.
How would he handle this situation, with her team present... law enforcement agents who would be put in an awkward position if the matter wasn't handled with the greatest finesse.
"Not to worry." Red patted Liz's hand absently. "I'll only be a minute." he had waved Dembe's intended assistance aside as well.
Red sized the guy up, "Couple hints of advice," he stepped right up the guy's position, eyeing him stare for belligerent stare although Red's own expression was more than amiable, at present.
Liz knew how that could change in a flash.
"It's always pleasant when a man takes the time and effort, if only for his lovely lady's sake," Red smiled brightly at the man's companion, "to make reservations in advance... that she does not have such a tedious wait in line..."
Several wives and sweethearts gave their husbands and dates a frosty glare at the news conveyed.
"Secondly," he made note of all the overly interested stares they were receiving which clearly unnerved the belligerent guy's companion, "you want to impress the lady?" Red waved his hand, "Don't draw unnecessary attention her way."
The man glanced, even he taking note of the woman's embarrassment.
Red pulled his wallet free, holding a couple twenties aloft for a cab.
The woman snatched them gratefully, slipping off into the crowd, making a hasty retreat from all the attention garnered.
The guy seemed stunned by the turn of events, "Angela, wait–"
Red put a solid hand of the guy's shoulder when he would have hurried after his date.
Reddington's eyes were different, cold and empty suddenly, "Never put a woman in such a predicament again..." his tone matched his eyes, "you just never know... who you will come up against next."
"Yeah, like the FBI's fourth most wanted." Ressler muttered under his breath.
Something in Red's demeanor alerted the loud-mouth to his mistake. The man swallowed hard, taking off at a clipped pace to salvage what he could from the situation he had created.
Red turned, all grace and poise, the smile back on his face, as if the incident had never even occurred, "What an amazing place–"
Liz lifted her head, proud to be on the arm of a real gentleman who knew exactly how a lady should be treated.
"Shall we begin our adventure?" he escorted the ensemble following along at an easy pace.
Liz's eyes were drawn to an older man who had exited the establishment and now waited patiently at the doors.
"Red," he grinned, offering a hand of welcome, "teaching the locals some manners, are we?"
"Probably not." Red had already dismissed the matter, taking the hand offered, "Greg, this is Elizabeth," he waved a fan-fare of a hand, "my fiancée... and some of our friends."
Introduction were made by name. Though Red stumbled over Moore's name. The habitual urge to call him 'asshole' biting at Red's tongue.
Greg led the group inside, down the atmospheric aisles of his domain, "The private room," he gestured to a secluded area of the restaurant, "your waiters and sommelier are in attendance."
"Superb." Red was happy again.
"Ohh..." Liz clasped her hands together.
A gigantic window afforded a magnificent view overlooking a crystal blue lake set amid a towering forest of crisp, green trees.
"How lovely a setting." Samar smiled her pleasure.
"I am so pleased it pleases you." Greg was a consummate host, seating the woman himself, leaving Red to assist Liz.
"I'm simply overcome by the views." Wilson mimicked the women's reaction.
"Well, hell..." Ressler pulled out a seat for the man with a flourish, "take a seat, buddy."
Both men laughed at the shared moment.
"You're both amusing... assholes." Samar took the jesting in stride.
Elizabeth made a face at the two.
"One must choose one's friends carefully." Red quipped to Greg Forester. "As you can see, I learned that lesson too late in life."
Greg chuckled, "I know, Red. Don't forget... I've met Francis."
Samar managed a beautiful pout for Red's slight concerning his friends.
"Not you, of course." Red soothed instantly. "Present female company excluded."
Samar flashed him a grin, "Always the perfect gentleman."
"Nobody's perfect." Moore managed under his breath but Ressler heard, sending the guy a caustic look and a veiled suggestion...
"Lighten the hell up."
Red took his designated seat next to Lizzy having waited for Dembe to seat himself as usual, apart from the rest.
He grinned for the man's ways, shaking his head, "Dembe, I think on this occasion, you may join us." he swept the room meaningfully. "We have enough collective fire power between us to overtake a third world country."
Dembe waved the request off, his ever vigilant eyes scanning and re-scanning the area they occupied and beyond.
Red sighed mentally, knowing a losing battle when he fought one, "He is so conscientious."
Liz cast a fond glance Dembe's way, "He is that."
"I will check on you periodically." Greg inclined his head to his guests. "Enjoy your evening. If there is anything you wish, please simply ask."
Liz watch the man's exit, "I understand he is an associate," she took for granted, "what in God's name is he doing up here, so off-the-beaten path?"
Red leaned closer, "Trade routes." came the simple reply. "The border patrol between the US and Canada is, shall we say... lax? In this particular area."
Menus were supplied. Red was handed a wine list which he now perused studiously.
Liz scanned the variety of selections, her brow crinkling quizzically. She checked Red's menu shifting a questioning stare. There were no price lists available.
"He owed me a favor." he smiled over at the confused woman.
"How much does this stuff cost?" Ressler had questions of his own. He flipped the menu back and forth, his eyes scanning the pages.
"Order whatever you please, Donald." Red continued his own perusal of selections. "Their fresh caught trout is to die for."
Ressler was clearly uneasy with the situation.
"Would you rather have a burger and fries?" Red teased. "A footlong chili dog, perhaps?"
"I intend to order from every selection offered." Dembe had evidently cast his decision, mentally ticking off items in his head.
Red laughed outright.
"Is that a challenge?" Liz took up the cause, hoping to make everyone else feel more comfortable.
"If I had a gauntlet," Dembe lifted his noble head, "I would throw it down."
"Oh, it is so on, fella." Liz went back to her menu with a vengeance. "Well, I'm starting with an appetizer but I'm going to build from there." she mused openly.
Red chuckled, "I'm duly warned."
"That trout actually sounded delicious." Aram fell into the spirit.
"It is superb." Red encouraged, his spirits lifted as Lizzy's friends rallied.
Moore grumbled his discontent, pulling forty dollars from his wallet, tossing it to the table, "I'll pay my own way."
Red genuinely was amused, "Not with that meager amount, you won't." he sat back, spreading his hands wide, "My God man, look around you... you couldn't even walk through the doorway of this establishment for that sum."
Ressler snapped his breadstick in two, his look a murderous one. Even he had picked up on the slight offered their host.
"You aren't at the Outback Steakhouse," Red explained, "Not that I don't frequent the place myself, I do but...really?"
"Yeah, Moore," Samar batted languid lids, "show a little class why don't you?"
"If we all put in a forty," Wilson was calculating on his phone, his expression a serious one, "will that be a good enough tip at least?"
Red laughed his delight. It had been a long time since he gave thought to such things, "I apologize." he even included Moore in the gesture, "I should have explained beforehand... this is entirely my treat. I chose this place. I thought it was understood. The host always pays."
Liz's heart warmed for the man. That he was offering to pay for her friends meant a great deal to her.
"I would be incredibly insulted otherwise." he turned cold eyes Moore's way, "And since this is supposed to be a pleasant outing, let's endeavor to keep it that way, shall we?"
"No more talk of money." Liz beamed hastily. "It's settled. Please." she pleaded her case. "It's such a nice place and the food just smells heavenly... can't we just all have a good time and forget about formalities for one evening?"
Moore opened his mouth.
"Have a freaking breadstick." Ressler snapped the object the man's way.
Moore for once, kept his peace, although reluctantly, Liz could tell.
"It beats eating off the government dime." Ressler inclined his head graciously in thanks to his host.
Liz squeezed Red's hand tightly under the table, a sure sign she was pleased at Ressler's gesture.
Red sent the man a nod in return. He and Ressler often butted heads, and he knew that would not change. But in this instance, he was grateful for the man's tact, if only for Elizabeth's sake.
The dinner proceeded with no further incident, thankfully.
Wilson playfully kept track of whether or not Liz was outdoing Dembe, pigging-out wise.
As Red was later to comment, wine flowed, good conversation abounded as God's creative abilities delighted the senses.
Liz thought he had summed it up perfectly.
She had missed her friends, and it was good to be back with them. Her life had been so busy and fulfilling with Red, she hadn't paid attention to anything other than living in the moment.
She had changed in so many ways she had not realized. Samar mentioned the fact even.
Liz tried everything suggested in the way of appetizers, wines or food, for example.
"You never would have that before." Samar had motioned to the bite Reddington had slid to Liz's plate for her to try that was summarily eaten without hesitation. "You were strictly a meat and potatoes kind of gal."
"Was I?" Liz asked around the delectable morsel, astonishment in her tone. "...No..." she disagreed.
"Yeah." Samar debated. "Remember when I brought in that pot-luck for Aram's birthday a couple months back?"
"It was delicious."
"You barely touched it." Samar laughed. "And now look at you. Association with Reddington had broadened your outlook."
Liz sought out Red's opinion, "Told you I was good for you."
Liz was given pause for thought. She suddenly realized, life with Tom Keen had been rather routine.
Friday nights, dinner at the Italian bistro. Saturday's, Thai food. Starbuck's in the morning before work, comfort food at night for dinner. Chinese takeout was written in stone.
Was there anything wrong with that though?
She looked around her present surroundings.
She was momentarily confused over the matter.
Was she more content now and if so... why?
She studied Red's profile.
He sensed her interest, those grey-blue eyes turning her way, a question in them as well.
"...Was I boring before?"
"I didn't say you were boring." Samar interjected.
Liz needed the man's input, however.
"I would never assign that adjective to you." Red stated. "What's this about?" he had missed some of the conversation.
"I told her... her interests had broadened." Samar explained. "Which is a very good thing."
"Self-growth is always a good thing." Red agreed. "For anyone."
Liz felt better, "I'm just hungry." she stuffed another hors d'oeuvre in her mouth, letting the subject go for now. "Try one of these." she held the treat aloft.
"Lizzy," Red's smile graced his lips, "I've ordered a rather large meal."
"So did I." she was not understanding. "You don't see it slowing me down, do ya?"
He accepted the finger sandwich, the tip of his tongue darting out to caress her fingers lovingly.
Liz blinked having felt the delicate sweep. She swallowed, quickly covering the moment.
"Would you like to try a stuffed mushroom?" she asked brightly.
He leaned closer to inspect the selection on the decorative tray, speaking for her alone, "I'd like to sample you."
He shifted her an erotic glance.
"Oh..." she murmured breathlessly. She straightened, gathering her wits, "F-Francis would have said he'd like to stuff my mushroom."
Red snorted softly under his breath, shaking his head knowing a truth when he heard one, "What the hell does that even mean?"
"I don't know..." Liz giggled.
Red collected a few tidbits, popping one in his mouth before sitting back to continue his interrupted conversation with Dembe.
Red was pleased the agents had not once fallen back on shop talk this evening.
He was well aware of the dour mood and reason behind Moore's refusal to accept the situation now at hand.
Personally, he would have enjoyed taking the asshole out back, beating the shit out of him and leaving his carcass hung up in a tree somewhere for the bears to play with but...
Lizzy would then have to deal with the consequences of such actions.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, there would be repercussions concerning the attachment they now shared.
Whether those repercussions were in the form of Moore's tactics tonight... vague, cruel innuendos or the unmistakable disapproving looks the fucker was constantly giving over to Elizabeth... it did not matter.
They would be damning to her.
She had her friends about her this particular evening. They were softening Moore's slights. Lizzy could shrug it off...chalk it up to 'consider the source'.
But what would she do, how would she handle it, were it Cooper, say... being forced to address the issue.
If Moore followed through on his obvious disapproval for the relationship he was witnessing between Red and Liz... criminal prosecution was a definite possibility Lizzy would have to face.
Cooper would deflect as much as possible, of course, but Moore was a 'by-the-book', 'don't step out of boundaries' kind of asshole. He would give anything to crucify Elizabeth.
Red could spot them a mile away.
People so deathly afraid to step outside their own comfort zone, they envied and even hated those that had the courage and foresight to take that leap of faith. They lacked something vital inside themselves.
It would be no problem to rid the world of one less fucker, of course, but how many would Lizzy face in the future if word of their true relationship surfaced.
Even Mr. Kaplan could not clean up that big a mess.
Lizzy would find herself in a world of trouble all because she associated herself with him and his organization.
Red looked about the table measuring each individual present.
Ressler? He started out by-the-book. Ressler would blame Reddington, not Liz for any infraction of rules broken. But he would still expect her to act the part of a professional agent.
Samar? She would applaud 'fuck buddy' status but anything more? She had standards she adhered to, and she expected no less of any other female agent. Sex was a tool Samar took advantage of but no true emotions were to come into play... ever.
Aram would hurt Lizzy the most and he would be hurt in return. He might surprise though. Red was still considering which direction the man might go.
He honestly hadn't given Wilson much thought, but he seemed to be a doppelgänger for Ressler and being a stickler for the rules.
Seeing Lizzy with her friends this afternoon only cemented Red's feeling concerning the need to conceal his and Lizzy's true involvement.
She had been adamant earlier today. Perhaps losing her position at the FBI wouldn't concern her all that much. But it would affect any other position she attempted to secure.
Red wasn't sure why she felt the need to work but it was clear, she was independent and would hate not making her own way in the world.
She had grown accustomed to the instant acceptance his world offered. Francis, Mark, Dembe... while they encouraged their romantic entanglement, it would not be so with the outside world and Red sensed as much.
Red could whisk her out of the country before ink dried on 'criminal charges pending' papers. Set her up with a new identity? It was second nature to the man by now but at what cost to their relationship?
Would Lizzy eventually blame him for destroying the life she had made for herself before he came into the picture?
Leaving her established life would cause strain, he knew from experience just how much. Elizabeth had no concept.
Would she tire of the stress? Would she want him out of her life?
There had to be a middle ground. He would find it.
He had no choice.
The man was jostled from his thoughts, sighing his disgruntlement.
He lifted his attention moving subtly away from the intentional contact.
The waitress smiled down in a beguiling manner, "Is everything to your satisfaction, Sir?"
Had she meant the overt brushing of her ample breast against his shoulder or the meal and service provided.
Her look told him, it was the former.
Red shook his head, slightly bemused. Was he putting off some sort of pheromone which drew the opposite sex to him?
It was true, he wanted sex all freaking day but... really. This was getting ridiculous. True, he complained before but... he checked with Lizzy.
How things changed. A year ago, this would certainly not have been a problem.
Lizzy's eyes held a certain sly amusement. She obviously picked up on the interchange.
Well, of course she had. It was just that type of day.
The waitress was attractive. She even had Lizzy's dark hair and blue eyes but... she was not Elizabeth Keen.
Red had the real deal, sitting right here beside him. And even better, she would be warming his bed and other vital parts of his anatomy... later.
If he played his cards right, at this moment.
The waitress was not making his job easy. She leaned across him, a definite breach of etiquette, to secure Lizzy's plate for removal.
"I am here to please."
Even though the remark was directed to all concerned, Red felt an odd tick jerk his face because the woman's smile was just for him.
"Anything you wish, you just have to ask."
Ressler halted his fork half-way to his mouth.
Each male present felt the current run through the room.
Yes, even Moore, who squirmed about, shifting in his seat.
Wilson tugged at his brightly colored tie.
Aram blotted his brow with his cloth napkin.
Dembe sipped his wine deliberately.
Red sighed heavily, "We're fine, thank you." he addressed the situation head-on. "We're wrapping up here... it's about time to go."
The woman's face fell. She retreated silently into the kitchen.
Red shook his head minutely, musing quietly.
"I think she likes you." Liz made mention, dabbing her mouth primly to hide her smile.
"You crushed her hopes." Samar scolded.
"Seriously," the man wanted to know. Red spread his hands helplessly. "Am I doing something?"
"You are not." Dembe replied evenly, his attention rapt on his dessert.
"You're just being you." Liz shrugged. "I think they scent the masculinity." she nodded knowingly, her lips quivering with delight for his predicament.
"Or the money." Samar added her two-cents, sensing Liz's amusement.
"Could be," Liz leaned, sniffing lightly, "my God, he does smell like a crisp hundred-dollar bill."
"Only a hundred?" Red wasn't going to be topped. "I must speak with my tailor."
"You guy's talking about the waitress making eyes at Reddington?" Ressler dove into the fray, popping fried shrimp into his mouth.
"How very astute of you, Donald." Red lifted a frigid stare. "Thanks for the help here."
"I'm surprised she hasn't 'accidentally'," Liz air-quoted, "fallen into his lap."
"Or just 'accidentally'," Samar couldn't resist air-quoting as well, "pressed his face between her breasts."
"You missed that?" Liz tittered. "A few minutes past?"
Both women shared a chuckle.
Red eyed them belligerently.
Normally, Liz might have been upset by the totally uncalled for behavior concerning the waitress.
Some women had a lot of gall.
She realized, early on, that incidents involving Red Reddington where her species was concerned would probably be many and varied.
But really... while his woman was right there at the same table?
Can we say... tacky?
Red was so obviously put out over it and ill-at-ease in this instance, she could kind of take it in her stride.
Maybe Aram summed the matter up best as he concentrated diligently, twirling a lengthy pasta dish about his fork...
"Maybe she just wants a good tip?"
The comment broke the tension, all sharing a good laugh over the issue... all except Moore, of course.
"She wants more than the 'tip' of something." Samar joked, bringing a vivid blush to Aram's cheeks.
A peculiar lurch pitted Elizabeth's stomach which had her clutching her fork abnormally tight for a few seconds.
She sought out Red Reddington. He looked so dapper this evening in his grey linen suit and darker pin-stripe vest.
But when did the guy not look good? Her eyes drifted involuntarily to the matching slacks... more specifically, to the junction where his legs met.
She knew exactly what that fabric covered.
Suddenly, Liz couldn't blame the waitress for how she must feel.
Red was a very attractive man in every sense of the word.
Liz's brows furrowed slightly. Did she used to be so sexually charged? She had never have a lover like Red.
Everything about the man screamed 'male'.
Even now, sitting this close, his cologne was sensually stimulating.
The way his hand would reach every so often to cover hers, to squeeze gently as if he needed constant contact.
Was she just being fanciful?
Liz only knew, she would be the one going home with him tonight. She would be the one feeling his kisses, his caresses.
As much as they made love of late, one would think, she would have had her fill but that was not the case at all.
She never tired of his advances, of him wanting her.
Would he... tire of it all eventually and want to move on?
How many women had he made love to? Could one woman hope to satisfy such an eclectic lover?
"Problem?" Red had watched the emotions flit across the pretty face. "You don't really think I'm interested in–" he crooked his head.
Liz smiled brightly, "You better not be." she teased lightning her mood.
"Don't complain about anything yet." Wilson was holding up his glass of red wine. "This hasn't been empty all evening."
"The important things in life." Red nodded his agreement, his hand squeezing Liz's gently.
The woman noted the contact, her smile softening.
"Take one for the team, Reddington." Ressler chuckled for the other man's predicament. "Good service is hard to come by these days."
Red smiled absently, his heart not even in the conversation. Liz's skin felt so warm and soft.
He knew her entire body was... warm and soft with deliciously hidden alcoves of sensual delight.
He wished all these people would simply disappear for a spell... that he could be alone with the woman.
Make love to her under the watchful eye of these magnificent surroundings.
Maybe mountain air really did stimulate the appetite...
He only knew he was sexually charged right now... was that what the waitress was picking up on?
Was it a tangible force people could sense?
Those at the table seemed oblivious, thankfully.
Dropping his hand subtly to Liz's thigh area, he allowed his palm to rest casually on the fabric of her short skirt.
The others were discussing the merits of fly-fishing versus deep-sea fishing.
Samar, surprisingly, was adamantly defending her views on the matter.
"You've been deep-sea fishing?" Moore clearly was skeptical.
"Swordfish off the coast of Greece, just last year." she was proud of her accomplishment.
"Did you catch anything?" Moore baited.
Red flipped the flouncy skirt aside, shifting comfortably in his seat, his thumb probing as his fingers slid up the silk of Lizzy's inner thigh.
"A hell of a cold." the woman laughed at herself. "It rained the entire time we were there but it was exhilarating." Samar's eyes were bright and alive. "The ocean was angry and the fish... so magnificent. I was glad it broke the line, in reality."
Liz swallowed hard, trying desperately to concentrate on cutting her chicken into precise pieces.
Red's fingers brushed the lace of her panties directly over a spot he should not.
He smiled slowly.
He was positive just by the slight touch that little labia was already plump with arousal.
Perhaps Lizzy wanted more than just the tip of something substantial as well as the waitress.
He would gladly oblige the minute they were alone. He was relishing the idea, in fact.
"That looks good." his eyes dropped to the confines of her lap. Liz knew instinctively he did not mean the meal.
"It is." she parried, smiling sweetly at him, breaking from her trance-like state. "It's very... tender." she squirmed a little under the constant, deliberate pressure his fingers exuded, "Very...moist."
Red grunted a primal response, his eyes flaming to life, "I know..." he soothed expertly, "so is mine."
Again, he wasn't talking about the food.
Liz glanced at his half-eaten steak absently, her bare foot sliding slowly along his leg, feeling the roughness of the abundant hair found there.
It was Red's turn to smile.
She had her way of playing... he had his.
He pushed in on the puffy slit, massaging carefully for a beat.
She tensed at the excruciating pleasure, shivering slightly in his wake.
"Are you cold?" he was instantly solicitous, removing his jacket, settling it about her shoulders.
But in doing so, he had taken away the exquisite feeling, much to her dismay.
She lifted luminous eyes, "That will get you into all sorts of trouble." he predicted for the unconscious pout of reprimand.
"What are you doing there, Aram?" Red made the pretense of leaning over to crane his neck, seemingly interested in the computer geek's diagram he was sketching on a convenient cocktail napkin.
Liz felt Red's hand slip back to its former resting place.
She cursed herself as her legs spread willingly of the own volition.
Aram rattled on about something to do with their surveillance on Lawford.
Red's head nodded sagely, his attention... elsewhere as his fingers hooked the rim of her panties, sliding under the lace.
Liz swallowed hard, her body tense and enthralled by his actions.
Her trimmed little bush teased the tips of his fingers.
Nodding critically at Ressler's remarks concerning the pros and cons of Aram's plans, Red 'teased' her right back, flicking Lizzy's clit drawing a drop of wetness from her center.
He enjoyed the grunt of arousal he produced.
Slowly rimming the tiny hole, he drew the wetness across the length of that sweet nub, circling the swollen bump lovingly.
"I think we're all on the same page here." Red smiled happily to those gathered, including his 'victim' in the scan, "Right?"
"Yes, Liz..." Samar wanted Liz's input as well, the brown eyes earnestly seeking the younger woman out, "what do you think?"
Liz's eyes snapped to her teammates.
She had no idea of the response needed having lost track of the conversation moments back.
Why were they singling her out? She wasn't even on active duty yet.
"I agree with... the consensus."
Samar nodded, clearly pleased with the reply.
Ressler resumed his meal.
Liz had dodged the bullet on that one. She sent Red Reddington an annoyed glare.
He smiled amiably, sliding his middle finger unceremoniously forward into the hot depths of her body.
Liz practically gasped. Her traitorous center sliding forward almost greedily to accept the invasion.
Red seemed to sense as much, his finger began an excruciatingly slow rhythm inside her body.
"Lawford..." Red frowned superficially, "you're wanting to catch him in the act of... what exactly? Why is he so special?"
Ressler sat down his fork, leaning his forearms into the table explaining his reasons for getting involved..
Red would bring Liz to the edge of orgasm by his calculated thrusts only to back off at just the exact moment her body was ripe, wanting desperately to complete the delicious pang of unrequited lust.
"So you see, it's not only the rise of crime in the area," the man continued, "it's the civilians getting caught in the crossfire," Ressler explained, "that my friend has been trying to catch Lawford for years."
Liz squirmed into Red's activities.
"If we can follow Lawford, listen in to what he's doing..." the man further explained, "maybe we'll have a large piece of the puzzle we've been missing to shut him down."
"That would be quite a coup." Red admitted. "But that's not all... is it?" He knew Donald too well.
While Red was not in the business of harming innocents, both men were aware that casualties happened. There was more to the story than what Ressler was telling him and Red had a pretty good inkling what it may be.
Ressler's jaw tightened, his eyes scanning the table. Moore left moments ago for the men's room. Wilson... he didn't exactly trust yet, but the opportunity presented itself and he would not waste it.
"It is also of a personal nature." Ressler conceded. "This piss ant Lawford put a hit on my friend's son."
"Was this son's work involved with the mob?" Red wanted to know.
"He's the D.A going after Lawford's organization." Ressler stated.
"The one in the papers recently?" Wilson was connecting the dots. "The one out of Chicago? Scott Benton, right?"
Ressler nodded.
Red knew of the situation, had been keeping tabs. He was aware of the invasion Lawford and his men had been making on the D.A's life. More specifically, his family's life.
Graffiti on the house. Tripped alarms at night. General nuisances that most would write off as minor incidents.
But Benton's wife knew better and they were scaring her. Rightfully so, since Red knew they would only escalate. These were just warnings. If Benton didn't back off...
It was one thing to threaten D.A. Benton. It was another to get his wife and child involved in the mess.
Red eyed the younger man, his focus intent. "Who is Benton to you?"
Ressler sighed, "Michael Benton is my mentor." he replied. "I took the same criminal justice classes in college with Scott, his son."
Red sighed as he felt the tiny quiver of Lizzy's beginning climax on his finger building ever so slowly as he reluctantly slid free.
Liz's bereft moan silenced the conversation, all eyes turned her way.
Red leaned, murmuring softly in her ear, "Not to worry, baby," he soothed, his eyes lit with an inner flame, "you'll get the dessert I promised." he stated a little louder.
Liz blinked, unfocused, her body crying out for fulfillment.
Red twisted, grabbing the waitress's attention, "Desserts all around." he motioned accordingly to those gathered at the table, returning to Elizabeth solicitously. "There now... all better?"
His expression altered visibly as he made a pretense of situating his napkin on his thigh, "Don't look now... and this means you, Donald..." Red eyed the man in warning, "but the man of the hour just strolled in."
"He doesn't know you, right?" Ressler's tone was tight.
"Only in passing. Not enough to exchange pleasantries." Red casually settled his arm along the back on Lizzy's chair, "Don't worry. Even if he recognizes me, I'm here with some associates having a pleasant sit-down." he reminded. "Does he know you?"
Ressler shook his head, "No," he assured, "I only did some background for Benton."
When Lawford had settled at a table, each agent took their time in scrutinizing the target up close and personal so to speak.
The waitress sat a cart of various dessert selections close by.
Selections were made and coffee brought.
Red noted Lizzy's quietness, amused by her subdued manner, "Have I broken your spirit?" he murmured lowly for her ears alone.
She lifted blue eyes full of animosity and sullen exasperation.
"Didn't think so." he stated.
Retribution was in order but her ire, he could weather. The time teasing that little hole was worth any price he had to pay.
They lingered at the restaurant for a bit longer, vaguely listening in on Lawford making lame overtures to his mistress leaving Red, in particular, ready to vacate.
"On that note..." he pushed his chair back, rising. He noted Lizzy's stifled yawn as well.
She was tired. Jet lag had set in. All the agents were better accustomed to traveling. Lizzy had gotten out of the habit of late.
Besides, he desperately needed time alone with the woman.
Ressler had worked up a schedule. He favored working with Samar. They would take the second shift, so the woman would be returning with Red and Liz this night.
Dembe drove the short distance to the cabin, parking in the garage, allowing a shorter distance for Liz to traverse. Though, Samar was the one trudging tiredly into the house.
"I hope you don't think I'm rude," the dark-haired agent yawned, "but I'm going to catch some sleep before my shift."
Liz smiled, as she eased from the back seat, "Goodnight."
Samar gave a tired wave, pushing her way inside, leaving the three of them alone.
Red stopped short in his tracks as his phone broke the silence as the three made their way to the entrance of the cabin.
Liz halted her steps, hesitantly.
"Greg," Red put all concerned at ease, "didn't I leave a large enough gratuity?"
He listened politely, a smile breaking his lips. He lifted a scolding stare, "You forgot your purse."
Liz gasped, realizing the object was indeed missing. She dropped her head woefully, sighing for her forgetfulness.
"No...I'll come back and fetch it." Red settled the issue. "I'm just a few minutes away. Thank you. I appreciate your kindness."
Dembe headed back to the driver side.
"No," Red waved him off, "get some rest. I'll be back before you know it. Really."
His look reassured the other man, "I don't mind, Raymond."
Red waved again, "You need to sleep." he frowned, "I know you didn't sleep very well last night."
Dembe sighed, before acquiescing. "If you should need me..." he said before disappearing through the door.
"Please tell me..." Red turned on Liz, something coming to mind, "you didn't have your badge tucked away in–"
Liz shook her head, "Truth?" she looked bemused, "I forget it most days. Odd, I never would have gone anywhere without it before."
She wondered what that meant?
"I'll be just a few if you–"
"No," Liz shook her head, reaching for the passenger door, "no, I'll go with you. I left it there so..."
"You don't have to go, baby." Red reminded her yet again.
"You hoping to see that little waitress again?" she half-teased. Red rolled his eyes, shutting the door on her quiet giggling.
"Admit it," she tittered as the man situated himself in the driver's seat and backed from the garage.
"Jesus God, no." Red muttered under his breath. "Hey," a thought occurred. He pulled the car over before they exited the winding road, "why don't you climb in the back and stretch out that leg."
"You know..." she looked longingly at the spacious area, "I would turn you in for a chance to put this damned leg up for a spell."
He chuckled, "You can be bought. I always suspected as much."
"For the right price," she shrugged, "and the price on your head..." she whistled brightly.
Liz slid out of the car before Red could think to assist. She scooted the length of the seat bracing her back against the darkened tint of the side window.
"I hate this boot." she removed it, stretching her toes, massaging the tight muscle in her leg, "I hate the crazy bastard that put me back in it... more than I already did."
That was an understatement. "I not only hate him," Red seethed, "I want him dead."
"You and me both." Liz groaned as the muscle relented to the incessant kneading, "but you didn't hear me say that. You know... since I'm a federal agent and all."
Red smirked, "One who forgets her badge." he snickered when the woman huffed indignantly. "You said it, not me." he reminded. "When does that thing come off again?" he rapidly changed subjects.
Liz glanced at the dreaded thing, "I would like to accidentally lose it out here in the wilds." she surveyed a suitable spot. "Would you rat me out?"
"In a heartbeat, sweetheart." Red pulled the car onto the two-lane highway, "Because it's good to follow the doctor's orders."
"Which you do at every opportunity." she reminded tongue-in-cheek.
"My doctor is usually Kaplan." he reminded, "if she really wants me to stay put and I don't do as she says, she will shoot me."
"Defeats the purpose."
"But gets her point across quite aptly." Red chuckled for the irony.
Liz sighed, glad to be rid of the cumbersome weight.
"Did Ressler assign me a shift?" her voice filtered from the back after a time. "I dozed off somewhere between the reenactment of the Alamo and the fly-fishing." she quipped.
"You aren't on active duty." Red called back, catching her eyes in the rearview mirror.
"Doesn't mean I can't park my ass in a chair for a few hours to give someone a break." she reasoned.
"You push yourself when you shouldn't." he scowled. "You're tired, admit it."
Liz shrugged, "If given the right incentive... I'll perk right up."
Red eyed the woman in the mirror, his brow lifting, "So do I, baby."
He turned off the highway into an almost empty parking lot. It was late. The customers had vacated but there were a few employees vehicles near the back entrance.
Red closed his eyes, cursing his luck. A lone figure waited by the front entrance steps.
The man groaned his dismay as he eased the car closer, recognizing the waitress from earlier.
"Isn't that sweet," Liz's tone baited him, "you don't even have to leave the car... curbside service with a lecherous smile."
"Brace yourself," he warned, his tone low and edgy, "I'm snatching the purse then bolting."
"Red Reddington, afraid of a little slip of a thing." Liz teased, giggling. She relaxed back into the shadows, interested to see where this might lead. "What would Francis say?" She tsked.
"He'd date her only to find her kneeling over him one night with a butcher knife and wonder why he hadn't seen it coming." Red muttered over his shoulder, ignoring the small snort of amusement as he pulled alongside the young brunette, rolling the window down, "... Good evening." he decided on politeness.
"Hi..." the bubbly, cheerful greeting was like nails on a chalkboard. He forced a smile.
"Thank you for finding that. My fiancée was frantic." he lied fluently, holding out his hand.
It was dropped to her side.
Red drew in a long breath, "I really should be–"
"I was wondering..." she was making a pitch, he sensed as much. She had stepped decidedly closer to the car, leaning her arms on the breach of the window casing.
Red moved directly back.
"Would you like to... spend some time together?" the full lips were wet with a sweep of her tongue, "I mean... tonight?"
The girl's bold approach slightly impressed Red. She had a poise beyond her years.
Most her age were all giggles and blushes.
Even Liz noticed the approach. She knew, in her younger years, there would have been no way in hell she would have taken on a man like Red Reddington.
"I can make it worth your while." the young waitress had stepped up her game, her tone cool... absent of the flirtatious coyness. Now deliberate and calculated, that's how Liz would label it.
"It's such a nice night..." she gestured absently to an unseen spot, "there is a very private secluded area by the lake I would love to show you."
Liz applauded the woman, her brows lifting of their own accord for such audacity.
"I noticed you tonight in there," she referenced the restaurant behind her, "you're not like other men. I was instantly... attracted to you."
"That's very kind, but–" Red tried graciousness.
"I've been told I'm very, very good at pleasing a man," the battle ensued, "I love the feel of cock in my mouth."
Liz's mouth fell open.
"Okay..." Red nodded calmly, "I think what we have here is... a failure to communicate," he quoted one of his favorite movies.
"I would love for you to fuck me." the girl stated breathlessly, caught up in her own fantasy. "Am I communicating well enough now?"
"I got your drift." Red answered, unperturbed. "But there's only one person I am interested in fucking tonight," he could be blunt as well.
He threw an oblique look to the rear-view mirror because that person was sitting right behind him... being as quiet as a church mouse... allowing him to stew in his own juices.
Being no damned assistance what-so-ever.
"So... while the offer is tempting," Red softened the blow, not wanting to bruise the young woman's ego or frighten her off for the next guy, "I will sadly have to... decline."
The young lady bit the inside of her cheek, wondering about her next tactic where this incredibly sexy man was concerned.
"May I have my fiancée's purse, please?" he hinted to yet another reason why he had rejected her invitation, holding his hand out.
"Oh!" the blue eyes brightened, definitely not what Red had hoped for. "Is that all?"
At that moment, the side door opened, spilling bright light out into the parking lot. A couple of wait staff emerged, chatting amiably, breaking the stalemate.
Red was more than relieved to see a bulky figure follow them out, immediately recognizing the silhouetted frame.
Greg Forester sauntered toward the car, his expression a bleak one, "...Give him the purse." he was tense, no-nonsense.
The waitress scowled but obediently did as bid, handing Red the bag, her expression a sullen one.
Red lightly tossed it over the seat, purposely aiming for Lizzy.
He held his retort as a whisper of a giggle met his efforts.
"I explained why this man was different," Greg's tone was a scolding one. "He is engaged."
"She can join us." the waitress was being very solicitous this evening.
Liz's mouth popped open once again, her eyes widening with awe.
"They don't do that." Greg was patience itself, "You don't... right?" he was polite enough to check at least.
"Not at this date." Red held his smile because he was visualizing Lizzy's face... good, that's what she deserved. "The future is not ordained."
Greg nodded that he understood the parameters, returning to the problem, "I've told you... if you need a fuck," he lifted the young woman's chin, his eyes steady and direct, "come to me."
Liz's brows were as high as they were ever going to get for the blatant overture.
"Is that it?" Greg was concerned. "Do you need cock, honey? Is your little pussy aching?"
The waitress fell into his arms, whining like a little kitten, "I hurt so, Daddy." she lifted luminous eyes.
Red knew a lost cause when he saw one. He could sense Greg's weakness even from this distance.
"Go wait in my office." Greg managed a gruff retort. "You've disobeyed me..." he cocked his head towards Reddington, "there will be repercussions." his scowl darkened. "You understand that?"
The girl nodded eagerly.
"You think about how disappointed Daddy is..." he sent her on her way with a sturdy smack to her bottom, "Go on now. I'll be with you in a minute."
The girl gave Red a last look. One that said, 'look what you lost'. She flounced off, disappearing into the side entrance.
The door shut with a decided thud.
"I'm sorry, man." Greg was instantly apologetic. "She was angry with me, wanted..." he trailed off. "I didn't want to reprimand her too harshly..." he sighed.
Red waved the matter aside, "Save it for the 'office'." he quipped. "But, it was a little uncomfortable over dinner." he admitted. "She does her act with the wrong woman present and... it could get ugly."
Greg looked listlessly at the closed entrance door, "I don't know what to do. She's Big Jake's daughter."
"Shit.." Red shook his head sympathetically. "Does he know about..." he waved his between the man and the absent woman.
"Well, he knows we're dating," Greg nodded slowly, "not that we're," he cleared his throat, "...playing."
Red lifted a brow, a silent warning conveyed.
"Was your woman upset? Offended?"
"Apparently not." Red muttered under his breath, throwing a dirty look into the darkened seat of the car. "Since she left my ass floundering up here like a fish on a damned hook."
Lizzy's laughter pealed from the back.
Greg's expression was priceless.
"Yeah, she heard it all." Red smiled pleasantly. "The little shit has a warped sense of humor... damned heathen that she is."
But the chastisement only brought more laughter. Lizzy leaned into the light, waving jauntily at a red-faced Greg Forester, "It's Francis' influence." she kissed Red's cheek soundly. "You both handled that so well. Color me impressed."
Red grunted his discontent.
"It was interesting to see the Master at work." she teased Red relentlessly.
"Why don't you sit back down and... be quiet." Red shook his head, a little vexed. "Since you're so good at it."
Liz fell back, tittering gleefully.
Red turned his attention to the other man.
"I didn't know she wa–"
"Goodnight, Greg." Red dismissed the intended apology.
"Yeah, goodnight," Liz called from the back, "...Daddy."
Red sighed heavily.
Greg laughed his delight, "Goodnight, Elizabeth." he was back in form, "Drive carefully, Red."
Red lifted unamused eyes, seeing the giggling woman squirm about in the back seat, full of malice and glee.
"I'm going to get you for that one, Lizzy." he vowed which only brought on another bout of fitful joy.
"I'm shaking in my boots." she snickered happily.
Red bit the inside of his jaw, already carrying visions of just how he might carry out his prophesy.
Ressler stretched out the kinks in his neck as he walked the quiet property.
He had laid down but sleep was evasive tonight.
He hoped a quick late night stroll might clear his head which was buzzing with ideas and plans.. and the dressing down he had given Moore for antagonizing Reddington.
The air was clear and crisp. The night filled with a billion stars.
You didn't get a view like this in the city, he had to admit.
Maybe sleep would come easier.
His watch was coming up fast though, so he headed back to the cabin, hoping for at least a couple hours before he had to put in an appearance.
The man stuck his hands in the pockets of his lightweight jacket, hunching his head, directing his steps purposely.
He had only made it a few yards when the sound of tires crunching on gravel stopped him in his tracks.
He stepped back into the shadows of a group of Fir trees watching as a large SUV came around the bend which led to the cabins.
He could not recognize a driver or the vehicle from this distance but it was too late for any casual visitor to simply drop by.
The powerful beams of the car shut down as the driver continued on with only the fog lights to guide his or her way.
The car bypassed the two cabins entirely. It pulled off in a thicket far down the road and the lights clicked off.
Checking Lawford's place instinctively, the agent found himself settling his hand on his weapon.
He returned his focus to the thicket and the unexplained vehicle.
He moved stealthily forward in a low crouch...
AUTHOR NOTES: References to movies:
High Anxiety
Cool hand Luke