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)

146. Boundaries

BOUNDARIES

Guiding Lizzy through the French doors to the veranda, Red contained his smile as he glanced at the woman walking beside him. Lizzy's step had a definite bounce, matching her good spirits.

Two years in, and Elizabeth could still surprise him. Since stepping from the sanctuary of their room, he had noted with a certain amount of pride, Lizzy exuded confidence, grace and appeal people were finding endearing.

Red found Lizzy's mood now, so damned enchanting he couldn't take his eyes off her. He wondered if she knew how utterly charming she could be?

Charming and... amusingly competitive. It was a toss-up who was worse? Ben Gilchrist or Elizabeth in that department.

Lizzy fought for each point, debating Dembe and the judges every time they questioned an answer.

Red enjoyed the comical exchanges tremendously.

Once the scores had been tallied, their table declared the victors of the parlor games and that trophy was in Lizzy's hand; gone was the overly energetic, stoutly defiant woman from the battlefield.

His delight grew when an easy-going, sociable Elizabeth emerged.

Unlike earlier, there was no call for him to initiate introductions to his peers... Lizzy took it upon herself to smile a cordial greeting and a wish for a pleasant evening to passing couples also enjoying a walk in the gardens, just as they were now.

It amused Red to note, Lizzy's open manner and eagerness to engage in conversation eased nerves of young upstarts who at one time were apprehensive, or even avoided, approaching Red.

In just a brief span of time, he made a slew of new connections and doors opened to talk business and strategy... after the holiday was over.

Smiling at the departing duo, Lizzy snuggled into his side, "Are you networking on our vacation?" she smiled knowingly.

"Who? Me?" Red asked innocently.

"You're such a workaholic," she crinkled her nose.

"They fought to get an invitation here specifically to network, Lizzy," he explained. "I'd be a prick if I didn't allow their approach and take their card." he said, placing said information in his jacket pocket.

Liz nodded after a fashion, "I guess there are some movers and shakers here, huh?" she glanced about at the mingling crowd. "It would be a waste of opportunity to not present themselves."

"Most can go far on their own," Red granted, "but with investors, such as myself, to move the process along..."

"You're a softy, Red Reddington," her eyes softened. She leaned against Red's frame, offering the man a gentle kiss.

"Or... I like money," Red countered, wrapping his arm about her waist. His large hand settled on the beginning swell of her bottom in a familiar caress.

"True," Liz wouldn't disagree, "but you're mainly a softy with a big heart."

"Are you trying to soften me up for your own agenda?" Red teased.

Liz smiled, running smoothing fingers over his tie, "Do I have to," she lifted coquettish eyes, "you said once , whatever I want... I can have."

Red nodded slowly, "I did say that, didn't I."

"You did," she batted her lashes, "besides, I have access to your wallet anytime I please."

Holding his expression, Red nodded, "Yes... and I can feel those fingers lifting my wallet, even as we speak."

Heaving a sigh, Liz removed her hand from Red's pocket, letting the wallet drop back into place.

"Am I getting rusty?" she worried superficially.

"Not at all," he disagreed, "I've just become very aware of your touch on my ass."

"I've noticed that about you as well," Liz bantered playfully. "Have I mentioned how much I enjoy those moments?"

"Not in so many words," Red's eyes twinkled, "in actions though..."

"I will learn to be more vocal," Liz made mental note.

"Please do so," Red encouraged, "I do so enjoy hearing that little mouth of yours when it's saying crude, vulgar things."

"Hey, Red," Francis approached like a specter out of a mist, unannounced and eager to be noticed, "Mark thought you might want to hear what that guy with him," he gestured to the men, "has to say about this inventory he has available."

"At what point did I say, I wished to work while on vacation?" Stepping back, Red gave Francis and disgruntled look. "Or that you could blithely interrupt my private time whenever the mood struck?"

"Don't give me the look," Francis set his hands on his hips, "you were already networking, so... what's one more guy?"

Liz giggled as Red's head lolled about, clearly unhappy with the interruption. "Go on, it'll only take a minute." she encouraged. "Hear what he has to say, get his card, set up a meeting later... move and shake, do your thing."

"This will only take a moment," Red sighed, sealing the promise with a kiss. "Thank you, Elizabeth... for understanding."

"Take your time... I'll just take a turn with Francis," Liz smiled warmly, stepping alongside the man in question.

"Take a turn?" Francis was confused. "Are we going to have sex?"

"You wish." Liz dismissed airily.

"Lay a finger on her and I'll cut it off and place it in the punch bowl."

Francis screwed his face up, the disgust apparent.

"Why a punch bowl?" he asked as Liz looped an arm around his.

"Why not?" Liz countered, further confusing Francis.

"Oh... Lizzy?" Red turned his attention back to the woman.

"Yeah?" she stopped in her tracks, looking at Red expectantly.

Red lifted his hand, palm up, wiggling his fingers. "...If you please."

Scoffing dejectedly, Liz slapped the man's wallet in his open palm before flouncing off, totally miffed by Red's perceptive ways.

Francis laughed quietly at the odd exchange before joining up with the vexed woman.

Both walked the garden, taking in the fragrant and beautiful sight of all the flowers in bloom and water effects placed throughout the generous space.

In their exploration, Francis occasionally introduced Liz to passing acquaintances, while studiously and quite deliberately shunning others.

After the man hooked her elbow yet again, steering her from the vicinity of another group who gave Francis a frown of discontent for the snub, Liz gave the man beside her a subtle questioning look.

"What's with the cold-shoulder?" Liz whispered.

"Bad vibes," Francis muttered in passing. "They're corrupt, back-stabbing assholes. We don't do business anymore."

"And they resent that?" Liz wondered.

"Don't know, don't care," Francis shrugged. "In this case, I think they're just pissed I didn't introduce you."

"Me?" Liz frowned. "What do I have to do with–"

"Besides the fact you're pretty," Francis grinned. "You're Red's girl. They'll step on his toes if they think they stand a chance." he warned. "It's part of the game."

"Well, they don't... stand a chance!" Liz scowled hard at the men. "What game?"

Francis chuckled as the men shuffled in place, looking anywhere but at the dark glare directed their way. "Get the Top Dog's chick. It would be a coup, indeed."

"Wouldn't the Top Dog retaliate?"

"Some do, some consider it 'good riddance'," Francis shrugged. "No loyalty, who needs 'em, right?"

Liz pulled up, "Where does Red fit in there?"

"You're joking, right?" Francis disdained. "Red don't worry about that. You ain't like none of those women!"

"No, I certainly am not!" Liz stated emphatically.

Chancing a glance at the man, Liz wasn't surprised to find herself Red's center of attention. A small smile tugged at his mouth, watching her reaction to the men across the way. He appeared pleased by her reaction to the lot.

Lifting her chin, Liz brushed the issue aside. "You're right," she decided, "... they are trolls." she took on Francis' outlook for such people.

Sniggering under his breath, Francis nudged her along.

"It really is beautiful out here," Liz leaned, delighting in the rich burst of Lilac tickling her senses.

"Mark did a good job... for an imbecile," Francis had to agree. "With all the palm trees and exotic flowers, you almost forget you're in Texas."

A bright flash of light streaked across the sky, followed closely by a low rumble of thunder in the near distance, garnering both their attention.

"Almost, anyway." Francis smiled. "The storms here can be pretty intense. We should head on in."

Slowly waving his curled fingers, Red gestured her to come. Liz flushed as the motion inspired her to move... just as it did in the bedroom. Or, at the very least, she felt no resistance in her reactionary desire to move closer towards Red.

She had to admit, if only to herself... her core tightened in response to the manner in which Red's fingers moved. Were he to offer finding a quiet nook and put those fingers to use, she wouldn't put up much resistance.

If Red Reddington didn't at least put in the effort to accost her on their private balcony or hidden alcove, in some manner before their departure... she would be very disappointed to say the least.

Heads would roll... which end, she couldn't be certain.

They were on vacation, after all. They were here to relax, unwind... and hopefully enjoy quality time together.

Bad food, overcrowded tourist attractions, atrocious accommodations and arguments mired all her weekend getaways with previous partners.

She often needed a day to recover from the exhaustion and disappointment of the failed mini-break.

Needless to say, that Red provided a tranquil setting, beautiful lodging, delicious food and good humor gave her high-hopes for the rest of their time there.

If he went so far as to deliver sex on demand... she would have no qualms awarding the man an A+ rating.

Canting his head, a slow smile crept its way across Red's features as he focused on her. The man's fingers moved restlessly against his thigh, as if sensing her desire for him to touch something more... substantial.

The slight lift of Red's brows alerted Liz; the man was well aware of her private thoughts and approved the direction in which they turned.

Where she would have normally remained stoic in her features or even delivered a reprimanding look... she instead allowed her mouth to lift into a flirtatious, mischievous tilt.

A searing bolt of lighting flickered across the sky, jolting her pleasant thoughts, as did the following thunderous crash.

"Holy crap!" she startled, taking an involuntary step back. "Thor, the God of Thunder hath arrived. Geez!"

"I was always partial to Loki, myself." Francis countered, hurrying Lizzy's steps.

"Why am I not surprised?" Liz quirked her brow, then glanced curiously at her friend. "You know, if you let your hair grow longer... you'd resemble the God of Mischief."

"The artistic or Tom Hiddleston rendition?" Francis chuckled, guiding the woman closer to Red's position.

"Hiddleston's, I guess," she cocked her head, squinting her eyes. "Though... you're not as pasty."

"Yeah, and the guy is thin as a rail," Francis scoffed, "I, on the other hand, have the body of Wolverine..."

Liz instinctively rolled her eyes as the man flexed his muscle, only to realize...the beefy arm pulled at the suit of his jacket, bulging the rich linen.

She glanced over at the man's stocky form, giving him an approving nod. She had never noticed Francis was quite muscular.

When they first met, she would have said Francis had the body of a swimmer. Now, he appeared to have bulked up some. Apparently, Nora's cooking and Francis' determination to keep up with the likes of Dembe during morning exercises was taking its toll, but in a good way.

He had broad shoulders, a trim torso and strong thighs. He did look a bit like Wolverine... in a suit.

"I also have fuller lips, for better kissing of course," Francis expounded on his virtues, "and a better hairline and fashion sense."

"I know it's my fault... but how did we get on this subject?" Liz lamented.

They quickened in their steps as a light drizzle misted the gardens... and them.

While Liz normally wouldn't care and enjoyed the refreshing, crisp dotting her flesh, her ensemble would protest.

"You don't have Wolverine's cool claws though," she mocked her friend, reminding the man of his inadequacy, "nor Loki's ability to shape shift."

"...No," Francis sighed mournfully, "but I got brass knuckles," he shrugged, "same difference."

Liz grasped Francis' arm as they bounced up the quickly wetting stairs.

Red neared their position, an umbrella in hand.

"I could argue about shape-shifting abilities," Francis smirked, "my dick contorts into the most impressive–"

Liz cut the man off at the pass, "What, you can make like rabbits or horses?" she chided.

"While I'm not exactly along the lines of balloon animal material," Francis laughed, "I can fuck like a bunny and be ridden like a pony. Does that count?"

"Hey, stud, I think the correct comparison would be... stallion," Liz corrected lazily. "Or maybe in your case, pony is correct."

"Do I even want to know?" Red questioned, placing the umbrella over Elizabeth.

"Lizzy compared me to a shape-shifting God of mischief." Francis replied, his manner forthright.

"As one would..." Red replied without hesitation, earning a small muffled snicker from the woman beside him.

Where Red might have once pondered such a conversation, even questioned how such a matter were brought to light... in some instances, it was better he didn't ask for further clarification.

This appeared to be one of those moments.

Liz so enjoyed when Red stumbled into a conversation where Francis was the topic of interest. He always had an uncanny ability to arrive at just the right moment to hear the most debauched dialogue.

More interestingly, Red rolled with it. While not privy to the conversation, the man deciphered the clues given to make his own judgement call how things should progress.

Sliding on her heel on the slick pavement, Red wrapped a secure arm about Lizzy, steadying her as all three rushed towards the doors as the heavens gave way and rain poured in buckets around them.

Ushering Lizzy inside, Red canted his head curiously, absently handing the umbrella to a nearby valet, quietly thanking the man for his help.

"What?" Francis frowned, glancing back over his shoulders just as curiously.

"I admit, aside from the Godlike comparison," Red shrugged, "the description does suit you."

Francis pondered the statement a moment, nodding, "...You think I'd look good with mutton chops?"

Red rolled his eyes heavenward as the boy turned in profile, as if seriously contemplating the addition.

"... No," Red replied simply before ushering Lizzy far... far away.

---

Lighting, increasing winds, and flooding rains drove guests into the sanctuary of the hotel.

Aside from a couple men in private conversation and those wishing to rest and enjoy the storm on the comfortable deck lounge, no one dared venture outside.

Not that anyone seemed especially inclined to do so.

With billiards, darts, dancing, card games, among a dozen other activities available... all guests were in good spirits.

As activity swirled about him, Red reclined into the supple leather at his back, relaxing like he hadn't done in ages.

He had nothing on his agenda. No scheduled meetings later. No anticipated calls...

All he need concern himself with at the moment was whether or not to refresh his drink.

Swirling the rich scotch in his glass, Red stroked the smoldering cigar, soothed by the warmth of smoke billowing along his fingers.

Red scanned the crowd's comings and goings before returning his interest to Lizzy and Dembe once more.

He laughed his amusement as Lizzy pointed and hastily grasped Dembe's arm, dragging him in a meandering path to their newest source of entertainment... a pool table in a nearby corner.

It was rare the two most important people in his life were given ample time to socialize.

Dembe rarely interacted with Red's past lovers, if at all. He never joined them for dinner or sat with them as they watched the evening news. He would never have entertained the notion of spending one-on-one time with any of them.

He chuckled as Dembe moved about the pool table, playfully bumping against Lizzy, sending the woman into graceless tumble back into her stool.

Red laughed quietly as the woman huffed a vexed breath, inadvertently brushing her mussed hair away from her adorably sour expression.

Situating herself more comfortably in her seat, she gave her opponent a wry smile while Dembe cleared the table one ball at a time.

Red mused to himself...

It seemed like a lifetime now, but just a few short months ago he and Dembe flew solo. They shared amusing anecdotes and games during long flights, even shared the same safe houses.

While Red had tried to make himself scarce the moment they arrived at the safe house, to allow Dembe time to pursue his own interests... the man rarely left his side.

Still, it had come to his attention since becoming romantically involved with Lizzy... he actually spent more quality time with Dembe than ever before.

Even with Dembe's romantic interest in Hannah and time spent with the guards... Dembe shared every meal and often took part in movie nights or after dinner games Lizzy orchestrated.

Come to think of it; he saw Francis, Silas, and the boys more since the change in his relationship with Lizzy, as well.

Had he unintentionally neglected Dembe and other associates without even realizing it?

Had he mellowed to such a degree, people found him more approachable now?

Whatever the reasons, he was glad Dembe felt comfortable with Lizzy and genuinely appeared to like her.

Lifting his glass, Dembe gestured to Lizzy, signifying his need for nourishment, before heading to the bar for refills.

Sliding off her stool, Lizzy carefully aimed her cue, then chuckled as the ball bounced in a crazy ricochet before rolling towards the middle of the table.

She shook her head, smiling as the ball came to rest, blocking a perfectly straight shot.

Red snickered, charmed by her lack of skill... and that she seemed amused, if not resigned to the fact, she was pretty bad at the game.

A point made very apparent when shot after shot failed to meet their mark.

Red's attention shifted as a young man approached, gesturing his beer bottle to the table, obviously asking if the table was free.

Tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair, Red shook his head for the man's pathetic excuse to approach the woman.

Smiling, Lizzy pointed to herself and Dembe, informing the man... the table was still in use.

"Oh, Lizzy..." Red chuckled quietly.

His quiet laughter continued as Lizzy, oblivious to the man's ploy, lined up her next shot... and missed.

The interloper, seeing an opportunity arise, stepped, gesturing to the table and Elizabeth's stick in an apparent attempt to offer pointers.

Lizzy readjusted her cue, looking to the man questioningly as she did so. The man wrapped his fingers around the end of the cue, moving her to the right before saying something Red could not discern from this distance.

Drawing her arm back, Liz jabbed the smooth cue stick between her fingers, sending the cue ball and striped ball into the pocket.

"Smooth..." Red grunted to himself.

Still in good humor, Lizzy laughed at her faux pas, accepting the cue ball the man pulled from the side pocket. The man moved about the table, offering a running commentary.

Glancing to his left, Red's attention fell on Dembe as his friend looked between the pool table and Red's position.

Red gave his friend an almost imperceptible shake of his head. If the interloper were only assisting the woman, there would be no problem.

Reaching for his tumbler, he found Mark and Francis intent on him.

"What?" Red scowled.

"We're waiting to see how long it takes you to go beat that guy with a stick." Mark didn't deny their genuine interest.

"Now, why would you think I'd do that?" Red rumbled into his glass.

"Well, you were mid-sentence, then you glanced at Lizzy and haven't said a word since." Francis grinned. "We can't wait here all day, waiting for you to make your move." the man pulled his wallet free in anticipation.

"It's clear that guy is making his," Mark smirked, "though... the lady does not show much interest." the man jutted his chin towards Elizabeth.

Returning his attention to the table, Red's gaze trailed after the man stepping in behind Lizzy, pointing to a ball and a neighboring pocket at the far end.

Looking back and forth between Lizzy's position and that of the impossible shot the man suggested... Red sighed more than heavily.

It didn't take a genius to know what the intruder's intentions were as he sidled closer to Lizzy's position.

"Excuse me, gentlemen." Red carelessly set his glass down, the liquid sloshing over the side as it thumped loudly on the table.

Walking the room, Red caught Dembe in his peripheral vison heading for the table. Red waved him off, more than happy to take care of this himself.

"Here," the man said as Red approached from behind, "let me help you."

"Elizabeth has all the help she needs," Red stated quietly.

The man hastily straightened, having made his move to bend his form over Lizzy's smaller one.

Looking over her shoulder, Liz's smile fell away when she saw the look on Red's dark countenance.

Hastily standing upright, she stumbled, having not expected to feel a wall of a body at her back. Gripping the cue in her hand, she blindly felt for the pool table, grabbing a rail.

Red reached, steadying her balance, his eyes never leaving the man in Elizabeth's sphere.

"Hey, I'm uh, John Bowen," the man took a step back, his hand out in greeting, "You're Red Reddington, right?"

"Yes..." Red looked at the man's hand until Bowen slowly lowered it "That's who I am."

John pointed to the table, smiling, "I was just assisting Liz here–"

"Oh, I know what you were doing." Red interrupted. "But as I said, Elizabeth is well in hand... you can go now."

Ducking her chin, Liz concealed her plumping cheeks and rising amusement.

Clearing his throat, John smiled brightly, nodding at Liz, "I guess I'll uh... see you later."

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear," Red's brows knitted, "there won't be... a later."

Liz held her soft chuckle of amusement as John backed away, bumping into Dembe's solid frame.

Quickly catching himself on a nearby chair, John made a somewhat graceful turnabout, hastily exiting the area.

"I'm never going to have friends," Liz withheld her smile, "if you keep running them off."

"The only kind of friend he wanted," Red eyed the man until he was out of sight, "was one with benefits."

"You would think I don't have a sterling personality or something," Liz canted her head humorously. "I can be just as fun as the next person."

"Oh, don't doubt that," Red didn't disagree, removing his jacket. "...Bend over."

Liz looked about their surroundings, sputtering her surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

"Bend over the table," Red repeated, draping his jacket on a nearby stool.

"...I... d-don't believe you!" she gestured to the other guests. "There's at least a hundred people in here."

Rolling his sleeves up his forearms, Red turned, a questioning frown overtaking his face.

"...There's a private alcove," Liz whispered urgently, "... right over there if you feel you must exert your territorial rights! My God, man!"

A sharp chuckle burst from Red's throat as understanding dawned. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but," he stepped beside her, "we'll get to that very generous offer momentarily."

Liz scowled as the man took the cue from her hand, turning her around. "Right now...I'm going to teach you how to play pool."

She had to admit, she was a little crestfallen they weren't going to play in the alcove, but was game to share this frivolity with Red. "...Oh," she allowed her disappointment. "Well... whatever, I guess."

Red held his laughter at such resounding resignation.

"I'm not this bad when I play at home..." she assured one and all. "I think the din is throwing me off."

"Yes, it must be the din..." Skimming a nearby cone of chalk, Red smoothed his hands along Lizzy's and the cue, removing excess moisture.

"Now, what was that nice man, John, doing that was so terrible?" she grinned. "I did make the pocket, after all."

"And scratched while doing so." Red reminded, chalking the stick. "John's end game was for you to wind up naked in his bed, it's as cut and dry as that... and nothing to do with a pool game."

"You think?" Liz wasn't so sure. Red did have a tendency to be jealous, but after what Francis said earlier... maybe Red knew something she didn't.

"I know," Red arched a knowing brow.

"All he said was I wasn't handling the cue correctly," Liz held her warm chuckle as Red lay a hand against the expensive worsted wool.

"I beg to differ," Red grumbled, "you handle stiff wood just fine."

Snorting under her breath, Liz took the offered cue.

"That little bastard was going to nestle his dick against your sweet little ass," Red laid it out on the proverbial table, "and was in the process of doing so when I interrupted."

Red sidled up behind her, cradling her bottom against his cock, slowly bending her over the table.

Giggling, Liz smiled as Red's warm hands wrapped about hers on the cue, turning her ear towards his deep voice.

"Then planned to show his prowess," he slid the stick back and forth, "at handling a thin, brittle toothpick."

"That's hitting below the belt... literally," Liz tittered, understanding Red's insult of John's anatomy.

Her eyes shifted to the hypnotizing sight of Red's large hands dwarfing her smaller ones.

"Well, I can't blame the guy for trying," Red shrugged. "This little getaway offers a chance to establish... connections outside of business." he rolled his tongue. "We let our hair down, so to speak."

"So people come to get laid." Liz nodded her understanding.

"Dating is difficult when you're a criminal," Red admitted. "I should have my geeks create a website..." he looked serious, "I could make quite the bundle."

"So that your dick is against my ass, says what exactly?" Liz had to ask.

"That it's mildly fond of you." the man husked in her ear, lowering his voice. "You know very well I don't need a gimmick to get sex, sweetheart."

"You will if you don't get a move on," she grumbled her frustration once more.

Hearing the underlying threat, Red glanced up at his friend. "Rack 'em up, if you will, Dembe."

Sitting his drink aside, Dembe made quick work of setting the table, then stepped back... taking his seat.

Liz gaped, pointing at the man, "That's the first time he's sat down since we've been playing."

"He might as well get comfortable," Red smirked at his friend. "He may be the king of trivia, but when it comes to pool... "

"He's the king of bullshit," Dembe finished, chuckling for his own wit.

Red took the ribbing in stride, "Says the king of sharking." he raised a knowing brow.

"Sharking?" Liz smiled, knowing a cut when she heard one.

"Our friend here," Red canted his head towards his tittering friend, "resorts to devious tactics to distract from the fact he's a bald-faced cheater."

Liz snickered her amusement when Dembe pointedly looked at Red's receding hairline.

"...See what I mean," Red muttered, knowing a diversion tactic when he saw one.

Teaching her the finer points of billiards, Red inserted occasional bits of history which sounded particularly lewd with all the mention of hard woods and balls, he was proud to note.

"...The balls roll faster and more smoothly against soft wool," Red tutored his pupil.

"Stop it..." Liz tsked playfully.

She couldn't help but notice, this bit of wisdom was delivered directly after Red advised her to grip the base of the wood in her hand in a firm hold, but allow the shaft to glide between her fingers.

"If I want crude innuendo, I'll give Silas a call."

Red chuckled, "I assure you all this pertinent information may be Googled for accuracy."

Shrugging, Liz had to admit... Red seemed to know what he was talking about. Under his careful tutelage, she hadn't scratched once.

"Watch what the ball does," Red gestured with his chin. Guiding her hands, the stick struck the side of the shiny resin sphere, sending it in a swirling spin.

The ball hit the man's intended target, then hooked back around, lining up their next shot.

"What the hell?" she craned her neck, frowning at Red. "Is that ball loaded?"

She felt a certain warmth, feeling Red's responding chuckle through her back.

"Right or Left English," Red recited the terminology. "I'll teach you the terms later, for right now... it puts a spin on the ball."

"Those were pretty easy," Red said of the shots they made. "Why don't you choose the next one."

Staring hard at the table, Liz finally pointed to a lone ball that she could hit with the cue ball easily enough.

"Which pocket?" Red raised his eyebrow, questioning her choice.

"What do you mean, which pocket?" Liz frowned. "Any pocket will do in my world."

"In most games, you call your shots."

"Oh, is that what Dembe was prattling on about?" Liz scrunched up her nose at the man, smiling. Then pointed to the center pocket.

"You going to shoot this one alone?" Red asked.

"I'll give it a try." Liz shrugged.

Dembe stood up, sitting his drink down, signaling what he thought of her chances, ready to take his turn again.

"Or maybe not." Liz scowled, pointing at the man's stool. "Sit your ass down."

Grinning, Dembe raised his hands in surrender, though Liz couldn't help but notice, the man sat on the edge of his stool.

Smiling at the easy camaraderie, Red's heart warmed. It would have killed him if these two disliked each other.

"He has no faith in me whatsoever and quite frankly, neither do I." Liz gestured for Red, "Get over here."

Resuming his place, Red grasped Lizzy's hip, adjusting her to the proper position.

Helping her aim the shot, Red gestured with his hand, "We want to hit it directly on the edge, all right?"

Sliding the stick twice, they jabbed the cue ball, sending it careening towards its target. The solid ball shot to the left, as intended, bouncing off the rim twice... before plunking down into the pocket.

Exhaling her relief, Liz deflated into the soft surface of the table. She immediately started upright as a flash of light filled the room.

"Whoa... that was bright." Liz blinked rapidly, calming her thudding heart.

Glancing out at the rain cascading down the windows, Red nodded absently. A thunderous crash splitting the atmosphere sent Lizzy startling back into his chest, the cue stick jerking from her grasp.

"Shit!" Liz curved her fingers over Red's, craning her neck to check on the increasing ferocity of the storm.

Though it was only around half-past six in the evening, it looked more like midnight outside the massive windows. Heavy sheets of rain, dark ominous rolling clouds and blinding bolts of lightning filled the sky.

"Why is it so dark?" Liz asked, rather unnerved by the sinister-looking landscape.

"The bigger part of the storm is coming," Red's deep voice and a little burst of air tickled the shell of her ear, calming her frayed nerves.

Squinting, Liz turned away from the dizzying rapid strobe like effect of several consecutive flashes of lightening. She tensed rigidly as a rumbling wave of thunder tickled at her feet.

Nature could be a loud bitch.

Red frowned curiously at the small fingers clutching his so desperately, but more so, the unsettled expression on Lizzy's face.

"It's okay..." he murmured softly, his thumb idly stroking Lizzy's.

Slowing his breathing, Red leaned, gently stroking his nose against the soft slope of Lizzy's ear, easing the slight tremor he felt ripple along her spine.

Liz grimaced the moment she felt the muscles in her arms go lax under Red's affection, damning her weakness, more so that the man had obviously noticed.

It irked no end, Red sensed her restlessness. That she... an FBI agent, a person who had faced killers, would be afraid of a little thunderstorm was vexing! Frowning deeply at the very idea, Liz scolded an inner jangle in her brain which demanded she seek safety immediately.

Liz stared transfixed out at the tremendous display Mother Nature inflicted on the unsuspecting landscape. It was terrifying yet enthralling to the senses.

Sturdy oak trees bowed in deference to the whims of the mystical creature, as though seeking salvation and asylum from her impending wrath. The rise and fall of their heavy boughs were hauntingly beautiful... yet foreboding.

The furious winds whipped tree limbs about like fanciful plumage. The curious ballet-like movement hypnotized the mind's eye.

Ominous black clouds rolling across the sky in frightening speeds spoke of her unstable and sinister temperament.

Liz straightened slowly from her stooped position, back into the warmth of Red's reassuring proximity.

She knew this...

She had done this...

"Uh, well, you know," she cleared her throat self-consciously, "we are in Texas. Don't these things had a tendency to get a little out-of-hand?"

"You're safe in here," Red placed gentle lips against her nape.

Turning into the reassuring touch, Liz closed her eyes, losing herself to the soothing balm of Red's voice.

Remembering where they were and their position, Liz's eyes snapped open.

Chancing at a glance at Dembe, she relaxed, finding the man's attention focused on the storm outside, as were most of the other occupants of the room.

Wrapping an arm about her waist, Red pulled her against him, "We'll be fine, I promise."

"Get a room..." Francis drawled lazily. Nothing seemed to upset the man's natural demeanor.

Blinking away from her trancelike state, Liz sought the new arrival on scene.

"Do you think this might put a damper on this afternoon's 'Box Social'?" Francis teased. "I had a little filly all picked out to bid on. A Southern accent gets me all gooey inside."

"Is there anything which doesn't get you all gooey inside?" Red sighed.

Francis curiously kept a careful eye on the woman beside him.

"What's up with you?" Francis noted Liz's reaction from clear across the room. "It's just a little Texas style storm."

"I know," Liz forced a smile, her hand squeezing Red's fiercely. "... It's just that," she scowled hard, "I got a... feeling." she was trying, even now, to push that feeling aside.

"It's the Russian in me, I guess. Like this is a bad Déjà vu." she shivered involuntarily. "Like this is a... bad omen or something."

"I don't put much thought into such shit." Francis stated lightly. "It'll give you bad mojo."

"Isn't that a contradiction in itself?" Red had to point out the obvious.

"I guess," Francis shrugged, "if you believed in that shit."

Rubbing at the sudden pain in his neck, Red let the matter go... for all their sakes.

A bright flash directly overhead lit the interior of the expanse room, blinding everyone for a split second.

The following sound of a sizzling crackle traveling along the outskirts of the building silenced all those in attendance.

In a purely instinctual move, Liz curled back into Red's chest like a turtle retreating into its shell, seeking safety and shelter from the impending danger.

"...No," she whispered shakily, her attention focused on the scene outside the windows.

"See," Francis pointed, "she don't believe in that shit either."

Wrapping an arm back around Lizzy's waist, Red opened himself to her. He wasn't the least bit surprised when Lizzy turned about and clung to his bulk. Tucking herself against him, she lay her ear against his heartbeat, hoping to block the chaotic sounds around them.

Having watched Lizzy's reactions to the increasing storm for some few moments, Red couldn't help but feel a sense of Déjà vu himself...

When was it...

Red had awakened to a storm and Lizzy moving towards him in bed, seeking the same comfort she did now?

The storm, Elizabeth's reaction now... Red hastily put two-and-two together.

Carver... she was subconsciously recalling the night... Fucking Carver...

Rubbing a soothing hand along the curvature of Lizzy's back, Red tenderly kissed the crown of her head, "Has Mark said anything about how bad it's going to get?"

"...No news yet... cable is out from what I understood. Mark has a direct hookup to the Weather channel though," Francis stared curiously at Red, more so... Lizzy.

It was more than unsettling to see his normally spunky and feisty friend so obviously frightened by a little thing like a storm.

The woman's eyes widened with alarm as a bolt of lightning struck a nearby weather vane just seconds before the large bay windows shook with the responding deep, resonate thunder.

Red was hard pressed to distinguish the sound of Lizzy's stuttered and panicked breathing over that of the whistling wheeze of the howling winds pushing hard at the windows and doors.

Pulling the woman closer, Red drew in a deep breath as Lizzy hid her face in his chest. His large hand lay over her ears, hoping to muffle the storm.

"We're going to be fine, baby." he murmured quietly.

Francis gestured his willingness, "I can go check if you–"

A chilling static of lightning directly overhead triggered a fluctuation in the overhead lights. A loud report of thunder caused them to fail completely, leaving all in the dark.

Liz closed her eyes; the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach magnified ten-old. She kept the knowledge to herself, however.

Her fingers systematically tightened about Red's lapels, "It this stupid or what?" she tried to laugh, which failed miserably. "A grown woman," she swallowed hard, "acting like a two-year-old child."

A soft hum followed, along with the soft flicker of emergency lights coming to life, bathing the area in a yellowish amber glow.

"Listen up!" Mark bellowed over the crowd. "The storm is worsening, but we're perfectly safe in the hotel."

"You hear that..." Red whispered in Lizzy's ear. "We're safe in here."

"As you can see, we've lost power, but the generators are up and running, so you won't be walking blind." Mark continued, familiar with this type of weather event. "For the time being, keep electric use to a minimum. Any questions at all, please don't hesitate to ask me or any of the staff. Thank you."

Red dipped his head into his chest where Lizzy was hiding. "How you doing?"

"I just don't like storms as much as I used to, I guess." she smiled wanly. "I don't know when it all changed."

"Why don't we finish this game later. We can't see properly, anyway." Red smiled at the woman's attempt to lighten the moment.

"Let's go have sex in that alcove you mentioned earlier... take our minds off the storm." he quipped.

Francis playfully gagged. "I think I'm gonna puke."

"Go fly a kite, Francis," Red grumbled, earning a small giggle from Lizzy.

Red nodded his thanks to the man for providing the much needed distraction.

Grabbing his jacket, Red guided Lizzy to his seat, gesturing for a waiter.

"You want to sit with me?" Red asked because Lizzy had startled as another flash of light flickered across the room. The man scooted, making room for the woman in the over-stuffed chair.

Covering her legs with his jacket, Red let the woman snuggle in against him.

Once comfortable, Liz glanced at the other men surrounding them, wondering if they found her company intrusive.

She sat up straighter, striving for decorum.

Did Red even care? He brought her here without hesitation or even bothered to give the men the option of a say.

Turning to the man, she hid the slight flush on her cheeks, "I feel like Yoko Ono."

"Why?" Red sniggered. "Are you feeling the urge to recite something obscure?"

"You bring me over here, like your peers should accept me." Liz explained her reasoning. "They've got to be annoyed not being able to talk freely now." she adjusted her position to a more sedate one.

Glancing at the woman's actions, Red held his peace for a bit.

"So my old lady gives me the business about not holding up my share of the household chores, right?" one stoutly built gentleman was saying across the way. "I hired a maid and a cook, I say right back. If that ain't holding up my end, what is... I'd like to know."

"Women..." another of Red's acquaintances commiserated. "What'd ya gonna do?" Paul noted Liz's presence.

"Oh, not you..." he smiled sincerely. "You ain't no broad or nothing, you're a real lady. I was speaking of the others, ya know?"

Liz smiled politely.

"We ain't here to discuss your marital problems... again, George." a more surly gentleman grumbled impatiently. "We got some serious plans to draw up here, you two in or out?" Richard gestured to the various papers scattered about.

"I can't see anything," George grumbled. "My wife deliberately forgot to pack my glasses."

"Here, use mine, dammit," Richard grumbled the offer, digging in his lapel pocket.

"He's blind as a bat," Paul warned. "Those won't work."

"They're reading glasses up in the gift shop!" George remembered. "I'll go find some that work."

Red shifted a placid stare, "Seems normal enough to me." he pointed out. "I'm not even sure those three know you're here... or me, for that matter." he motioned to the tightly knit group hunkered down, heads together.

"What are they doing?" Liz wondered at such intensity.

"Planning a heist, from what I gathered." Red remarked casually. "Oh, the waiter is approaching." he smiled as the man neared. "Would you mind extricating my wallet, darling? My hands are tied up at the moment... and you do it so well."

Liz sent him a look, "Very amusing," she artfully removed her hand from his.

"Practice makes perfect," he reluctantly produced the tip required himself. "I'm here to help."

Liz was feeling a little better. The disquieting, overwhelming anxiety of minutes before was fading slowly but surely.

Being in Red's vicinity seemed to help.

Francis sauntered through the milling crowd, seemingly at a loss, then brightened, having finally located his missing friends.

"I thought you guys ditched me," he plopped down in a neighboring seat.

"It was a thought..." Red mumbled.

Liz smiled, but gave Red a scolding pinch on the arm.

"Where do we go from here?" Francis kicked back, crossing one leg over the other.

"Lizzy and I are going to our rooms," Red stood, offering his hand to the woman who blinked, then obediently lay her fingers in the warm palm. "We'll see you later."

The statement confused Francis, "What about me?"

"Amuse yourself," Red suggested, draping his jacket around Lizzy's shoulders.

"You mean like, masturba–"

"Don't!" Liz screeched hastily, taking the Mojito Red offered. "Oh my God! How do I get that image out of my head!"

Red... grinned.

"Well, don't be up there all night," Francis groused. "You say you'll be back and then you don't come down. A promise is a promise, Red... everyone knows that."

"Dembe," Red ignored Francis, "stay... relax."

Dembe looked... undecided.

"I'm here, Dembe," Mark grinned, sitting down across from the man. "Have no fear. You will not need face Francis alone."

"Limitations in any relationship stymies the flow." Francis continued, mindless to Mark's rambling. "No flow... no sex, it stunts one's growth. It's bad form I say to–"

Red stuck a cigar in the young man's mouth, "...Smoke 'em if you got 'em." he lifted a sage brow as he passed an undaunted Francis Holbrook.

"I don't smoke," Francis was pretty sure.

"You'd smoke a banana peel if you could," Mark rolled expressive eyes. "If you aren't gonna finish that..." he held his hand aloft for the sweet cigar.

"It'll stunt your growth." Francis warned, staring after Liz and Red's departure.

"My God, how much have you smoked in your life?" Mark managed, tongue-in-cheek...pointedly glancing down at Francis' crotch.

Francis spared a disdainful glance, "Your momma had no complaints."

Sighing, Dembe's head fell back, resigned to his fate.

---

"You want to talk about it?" Red asked, closing the door behind them.

"There really isn't much to say that you don't already know." Liz sat, tucking her legs behind her. "It just hits me out of the blue sometimes, unexpectedly."

Red held his expression when the woman hugged a couch pillow to her chest, playing with the fringe with restless fingers. He hadn't seen her perform the nervous habit in some time, alerting him... just how unsettled she was.

"Did they notice... is it going to be a problem?" she grimaced as a flash of lighting illuminated the darkened room. "Your friends? Did I blow it?"

"No, it's not a problem." he assured, sitting beside her on the couch.

"It has to be embarrassing for you," she bit anxiously at her lip, "Red Reddington's fiancée, afraid of thunderstorms."

"Let me share something with you," he removed his holster, placing it beside him before laying back into the couch, motioning her to join him.

Situating herself at his side, Liz rested comfortably against Red's bulk, slinging her leg over his.

"I probably shouldn't tell you this," Red said, then shrugged, "but Francis has a fear of heights, Mark hates flying unless he's on my plane, Dembe's terrified of bees. We all have our fears, Lizzy. We each deal with them differently."

"What are yours?" she couldn't imagine Red having any, but if he did, she imagined he'd side-step the question.

"It's impossible to pick just one." Red sighed, shaking his head morosely. "They are all terrifying in their own way."

"You have more than one?" the confession admittedly surprised the woman.

"I have too many to count," Red confessed. "Not finding my daughter before something happens to me... that's a major fear."

Liz could understand that.

It would be a terrible burden to not clear the air and leave Jennifer always wondering what truly happened...who didn't want that mystery unraveled?

"The thought of not being there in time," Red continued, "resulting in you or Dembe being harmed... or worse."

She felt the same, not about just Red and Dembe though... but all her friends.

"Losing either of you is..." Red swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat, "the thought of you not being here..." he shook his head, "I couldn't survive that."

Liz lay her head on the man's shoulder. Once she began working with Red and grew closer to him... the idea a job might go wrong at some point bothered her... nagged at her soul.

Just as Ressler and Samar were her partners... she cared for her friends deeply.

Red was even more so, now.

They had built a trust and bond over time. It hurt to think of Red being injured or killed. She rarely allowed such thoughts, if at all.

But now... the very thought of losing Red tore at her heart to a degree that if she considered the possibility... she found it impossible to breathe.

"We love you too," Liz leaned, kissing the man's chin.

"Without you, there's no fun, passion... no desire to make things better," Red admitted. "If a person has nothing worth fighting for, then what's the purpose?"

Liz could argue that other people would benefit from the things they did, but when there wasn't someone to share your life with and to love... it was a difficult feat to find the perseverance to keep going.

Though Red had fulfilled his promise to distract Lizzy from the storm, he had wished the subject had been on a lighter note. He was, however, glad he took the time to tell her how very important she was in his life.

Falling silent, both lost themselves to their inner thoughts... until the sound of the wind rushing against the windows harder than before interrupted their silent introspection.

"Listen to that wind, Lizzy." he closed his eyes when the woman relaxed against him.

Resting his cheek against her soft hair, Red lost himself to the moment for a goodly spell. The sound of a stone being thrown against the balcony French doors disturbed the quiet, breaking the reverie.

If that was Francis putting the proverbial flaming bag of dog shit on his stoop, then ringing the doorbell to see him stamp out the flames... he'd punch the boy right in the eye for disturbing this serene lull.

When more pings and scratches followed, the sizes varying and against all the doors and windows, Red unfortunately realized Francis was off the hook.

The hail grew in size and quantity in the span of a minute, bouncing off all windows and ricocheting about their private balcony.

While Red often enjoyed and felt energized by a turbulent storm, Lizzy obviously did not feel the same... not anymore, at least.

Not wishing to disturb the sense of peace Lizzy had found, Red lay still... rubbing a soothing hand along her back and arm.

"We're going to have to talk to those neighbor kids' parents," Liz's mellow voice said from his chest. "The way they throw things at the windows is unconscionable."

Laughing softly, Red kissed her forehead, "One of them has pretty good aim... I'll have Silas recruit the little trouble making fiend."

The sound of rapidly approaching footfalls running heavily on the carpet outside their suite caught both Red and Liz's attention.

Raised voices, though muffled, alerted the man to a possible emergency.

He sat slowly, instinctively reaching for his weapon.

What the hell was going on out there? Had the weather worsened? Were people evacuating?

Mark had designated 'safe rooms' throughout the hotel, Red knew.

Liz's small hand tightened nervously as the doorknob of the suite's entrance turned to the open position, her eyes widening.

Red was not so apprehensive; only a select few carried his key cards, but still... he moved his bulk in front of the woman beside him, his senses alert and ready.

"It is I, Raymond." a disembodied voice came from the cracked doorway.

Red relaxed, Elizabeth let out a tense sigh.

Dembe stuck his head around the facing, "There is an incident, I was uncertain how you wished for me to proceed."

Red's brows rose. He stood slowly, adjusting his vest, "A situation you can't handle?"

Dembe's bulk slid easily through the door, holding it securely in capable hands, "I am sorry to disturb your privacy, but one never knows how Francis will handle any given situation... Tobias Blackwell has arrived with his people."

Red sighed, "I hoped that bastard would forego this year's festivities."

"He has not," Dembe case Elizabeth an apologetic glance.

"Who is this guy?"

"Bad news," Red replied. "It's okay. We got it covered," he smiled at her. "But I don't want you putting yourself in harm's way... I'll go corral Francis." the man hated leaving her here when terrible memories were surfacing.

A loud crack of thunder had the girl startle visibly.

"...Dembe," Red sought a compromise, "could you possibly stay with..."

"Oh, no! If Francis is in trouble, I should be there." Liz mustered some bravado, arising. "He would be there for me. And what about you? We're partners, right? I have your back."

Red hesitated, sharing a look with Dembe. "Normally, yes..." he softened his approach, "but Blackwell isn't your normal, run-of-the-mill bad guy."

"So?" the woman was ready to be upset. "I deal with bad guys in my line of work, remember..."

"There are bad guys," Red leaned, kissing her forehead, "and then there is Blackwell. I would prefer you stay on the sidelines, Elizabeth... really." he gave her a scolding look. "I'll be a few minutes and we'll continue our talk, all right?"

Liz was not placated. "No, not okay!"

"I have to go, baby." Red was sensing Dembe's urgency even though no words were exchanged.

"I will go, Raymond," he offered. "Francis is not so easily dissuaded from a course of action once he has set upon it, however. If I have your leave to–"

"No... you stay." Red vetoed the offer, heading for the door. "Elizabeth, you have to sit this one out. We'll talk about it later."

The woman's mouth fell agape at such high-handedness, especially from Red.

But the man was out the door, on his way before she could protest.

"Well, of all the nerve!" she gasped, turning to the other occupant of the room. "Well... fine but... you go, Dembe. Make sure everyone is safe. I'll be fine here. Just... go help them."

"Raymond prefers I stay with you." Dembe rejected the suggestion. "He is perfectly capable of handling the situation."

"What is wrong with everyone today?" Liz spread plaintive hands. "I know everyone here views me as nothing more than Red's companion," she sighed her frustration, "but I can be more than that, Dembe. I can prove I belong here... with Red."

Recalling her reaction to the storm just a short while ago, Liz scowled inwardly... her disappointment in herself a troublesome weight.

"Be that as it may," Dembe replied calmly. "In this instance, it is best–"

"How is this so dissimilar to what we deal with at work?" she wanted to know.

Dembe mused, "... Elizabeth, this is different. Blackwell and his men are... different." he put it mildly. "There is a legitimate reason Raymond asked you to stay in the room."

"He didn't ask. He told!" Elizabeth fumed. "I don't appreciate that fact, Dembe."

Dembe nodded minutely. "No, of course not, but... he will explain his reasoning upon his return."

"I accept that much, but I cannot sit here and twiddle my thumbs, wondering. If everything you've said about these men is true, Red needs you." she reasoned. "At least allow that I can take care of myself in this damned hotel room."

Dembe sympathized, "I have been given my instructions. I am sorry."

Liz's temper flared, "Well, if you're not going... I am!" she bolted from the room... Dembe hot on her heels.

"Elizabeth, you are being unreasonable."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Liz continued her trek down the stairs as Dembe came alongside her... without hindering her descent.

"I am being exactly what the US government... and Silas, for that matter, trained me to be." she hissed quietly.

Reaching the first floor, both broke into a fast sprint, running the length of the hall in a matter of seconds.

Nearing the grand space, the sound of loud voices echoed from inside. Bursting through the heavy doors, Liz instantly craned her neck over the wall of people which blocked her path.

"This is not the time or the place." Mark Donovan's voice was frigidly contemptuous. "Now, back off."

Rolling to her toes, Liz strained to find any sight of Red, or any of her friends for that matter.

"We should return to your room," Dembe urged quietly.

"Stay out of this Donovan." a man she didn't know retorted.

"Get the fuck out of my face!" the sound of Francis' angry snarl surprised her.

"Francis... calm down," Red's unmistakable voice rumbled over the room. "...I suggest you take your men and leave now, Tobias."

Walking the line of onlookers, Liz peeked through the gaps, only catching small glimpses of Francis' enraged stance and Red blocking the young man's attempts to reach some unseen objective.

"Fuck off, Reddington." Tobias grumbled menacingly. "You got no part in this."

"Leave." Red seethed. "Now."

"Yeah, why don't you make us." Tobias smirked threateningly. "We ain't afraid of you or your little band of mercenaries."

The crowd rushed forward in a wave, startling Liz back from her previous position.

People shoved and, in some instances, hit the person beside them to vie for a better viewpoint.

Liz's frustration was evident as each and every attempt to break the line of human bodies failed.

"Stay here!" Dembe directed the woman to a back wall away from the crush of bodies.

"Do not come in there!" he warned sternly. "I will reach Raymond. You must stay out of danger's path... promise this!"

Following the man's retreat, Liz worried her hands as sight of Dembe was lost in the sea of people moving in a sickening wave as they jostled against one another.

A sudden gust of wind blew through the open space, the strong cross-breeze blowing a side door open. The heavy door crashed against the wall, then slammed shut as the wind once again shifted.

Looking at the dozens of men crowding the space... then back to the unlatched door... Liz rushed towards it, instinct taking over.

Pushing hard against the strong suction, she shook away the pain radiating through her hand as the handle yanked free from her grasp.

Quickly stepping through the open portal, Liz gasped her shock as cool rain instantly doused her slight form. Running to the corner, she repeatedly slid in the wet grass, her sights set on a barricade of men directly up ahead.

They stood in a wide-arc, all of them drenched. Each yelled their excitement, their manners animated and transfixed.

Shoving her way between them, she straightened her stance, ready for them to shove back... only they stood aside, allowing her to pass untouched and unharmed.

Just as she eased her way to the front of the pack, Francis took a staggering blow to the chin. The man reeled back, sliding in a growing puddle of water before coming to rest at her feet.

"Francis!" she gasped her shock, stooping to reach for the fallen man.

Turning wild eyes her way, Francis hauled rapidly to his feet, towering over the woman.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he barked his shock, but his opponent rushed him, taking his attention.

Quickly side-stepping the warring enemies, Liz glanced anxiously about, searching in vain for Red.

Just to Francis' left, Dembe grabbed hold of a man by the collar, tossing him into a nearby wall. Raising an arm to block an ensuing punch, Dembe delivered a rapid series of punishing blows, knocking his nemesis to his knees.

Having heard Francis' snapped order, Dembe hastily glanced over his shoulder to ascertain the problem... only to come face-to-face with a nightmare of his own making.

"You promised!" he grated his urgency, only one objective in mind now. He headed for the woman.

But something stood in his way... literally. Wrapping a bulging arm about his opponent's neck, Dembe squeezed until the man went limp in his grasp.

Dismissing Dembe's stricken look, Liz scanned the faces of the crowd rapidly.

Quickly pinpointing Red's location, Liz skirted her way around the arc of bodies. She abruptly halted in her tracks when a man came flying into the crowd just inches from her feet.

"Elizabeth!" Mark hissed recognition as he restored his equilibrium. "What are you doing! Get–" the man fell back into the crowd, waylaid by his opposition who enthusiastically arrived to pursue the argument.

Hitting out with the full force of his fist, Mark pummeled his foe, shoving him back and away from her location.

"What the fuck!" Francis yelled before catching an unexpected fist which came out of nowhere. The boy shook off the blow, staggering about. "Elizabeth! Go back!"

A man to Liz's right, one she vaguely remembered from the parlor games, tried pulling her back and away from the danger presented.

"No!" she wrestled in his hold, jerking free, determined to reach Red Reddington at any cost.

A couple men tried to make a grab for her, but due to the rain on her skin, she slipped from their grasp easily.

"Lady, you shouldn't be here!" it was warned.

Francis' rival suddenly lumbered into her path, blocking her way.

Angry, worried and frustrated; Liz grabbed a chair, tossing it in the man's way. The bastard stumbled clumsily, falling in the mud, allowing Francis time to gain on his position. The fight continued, the pace more frantic... more hectic.

Darting her eyes towards her friend to ensure Francis was okay... she pushed onward.

Shoving her way through a throng of people, she stumbled through the melee... finally reaching Red's location.

Ducking a blow aimed at his head, Red spun, ramming his elbow hard into a dark-haired man's face. Red kicked out, catching the guy's right knee-cap with a solid blow.

The man stumbled backwards, careening towards a nearby wall. The sharp, resounding crack of the man's kneecap catching on the stone ledge bit at Liz's nerves, as did the anguished cry of pain emitted.

"Elizabeth!" Dembe shouted above the manic din. His mammoth bulk waylaid his efforts to shove his way through the tightly cramped pack of spectators.

Having heard the deep baritone, Red jerked about, his stormy eyes scanning the crowd before landing angrily on Elizabeth.

"What the fuck, Elizabeth!" Red bellowed his rage, betrayal in his eyes.

Liz's own eyes widened as a man came into view, a steel pole poised to strike Red from behind.

"No!" she pointed frantically, pushing forward to reach the danger in time.

Turning, Red caught the projectile before it connected, yanking it free of the man's hands. Continuing the momentum, Red flung the pole away.

The onlookers behind him jumped, barely avoiding the flying projectile, some inner instinct saving their asses.

Caught around the middle by a contrived thrust, both Red and his assailant crashed to a huge puddle, spraying everyone with mud and grass.

Grappling for the dominant position, Red pinned his opponent to the ground with a well-placed knee to the chest.

The brutal and unforgiving sound of Red's fist driving hard into the man's face echoed loudly through the pouring rain, as did the excited murmur of the men surrounding them.

Disoriented and nursing broken bones, Tobias Blackwell fought for a state of balance.

Red pushed off the bastard... rushing for Elizabeth's position.

It took no time to reach the woman. Grasping Elizabeth's arm, Red tugged her roughly out of immediate harm's way.

The woman flung herself to his solid frame, breathing her relief to have him in her arms.

The wonderful feeling was short-lived, however.

Tobias, obviously having regained his equilibrium, stumbled to the outside fireplace... his intentions clear.

Balling Red's shirt in tight fists, Liz gasped her turmoil as Tobias yanked a poker free of its holder, his dangerous and wild eyes directly on the object of his intent.

Red snarled his fury as Elizabeth yanked free of his hold, hastily grasping a nearby side-table... hurling it past him.

Following its trajectory, Red's already murderous eyes darkened as the metal frame of the table bit into his stalker's shins.

"Fuck!" the man growled a vicious oath, shattering the glass inlay tabletop in his haphazard fall, kicking the remnants of the wrought iron frame back towards Elizabeth.

Out of his peripheral, Tobias' compatriot rushed menacingly forward, intent on aiding his associate.

Hastily pushing Lizzy an arm's length away, Red lifted his arm, blocking the vicious blow aimed at his head.

"Go!" Red yelled, his tone demanding to be obeyed. "Now!"

Struggling to his feet, Tobias focused seething eyes, his attention centered solely on the woman interfering in his takedown of Reddington and Holbrook.

Hurriedly stepping on the poker in the man's hand, Liz tore it free of his grasp. Haphazardly grabbing the table frame, she heaved the ironwork hard, catching the man in his injured knee.

Grunting savagely with the impact, Tobias stumbled forward, his meaty paw grabbing her hair in his fist.

The surrounding audience yelled their disgruntlement for the savage and abhorrent manhandling, demanding Tobias release the woman.

"You fucking prick!" a man behind her yelled as Tobias harshly yanked Liz by the hair. "Let her go!"

Increasing the tightness of his hold on her hair, the woman yelped as Tobias jerked her from the other man's hold.

Squeezing her eyes tight against the stinging tears, Liz's equilibrium became distorted, the bastard's hostile movement carrying her along in its momentum.

The next thing she knew, her back was against Blackwell's chest... his hand tight around her throat.

Blinking away the relentless rain, Liz lifted blurry eyes... to the rage filled ones of Red Reddington.

His fists clenched at his sides, his normally blue eyes devoid of... everything.

"You want me..." Tobias spat, tightening his hold about Liz's waist and throat, squeezing the air from her lungs. "You have to go through your little bitch here."

Red's jaw worked restlessly; his options were limited... his fear for the woman a driving force in his brain.

Liz's eyes fluttered shut as her head lolled from the loss of oxygen. Struggling to catch a breath, her eyes shot open, her heart thumping wildly in her chest at the sight which greeted her.

Quickly toeing the cast iron poker, she kicked it towards Red... hoping like hell he saw it coming.

Red bent, catching the heavy weight as it sailed through the air before it could connect with his legs.

Curling his fingers about the iron stem, Red stalked forward, swinging the heavy weight.

When Red was almost upon them, Liz raised her foot, slamming it back into her captor's instep, breaking his hold.

Tobias struck out in retaliation, knocking Liz to the ground.

The poker cut violently through the air, hitting its mark with sickening accuracy.

Delivering a punishing blow to his enemy, Red momentarily stayed his opponent.

Panting for breath, Liz startled as a large hand grasp at her collar, abruptly stopping her uncontrolled slide on the watery ground.

Yanking her off the ground, Red pushed her protectively against his back, inching her backwards towards safety.

Keeping the crowd at bay, Dembe's calm tone directed the man inching towards his position.

Locking his eyes on Tobias, Red readjusted the poker in his hand while moving instinctively closer towards Dembe's voice.

Struggling to his feet, Tobias sneered, his chest heaving with his exertion.

Liz grimaced as the bastard wiped carelessly at the blood pouring from his nose and mouth, smearing it across his chin in a grotesque show.

The guy's stamina amazed the woman. He didn't even seem fazed by the direct hit of a poker to the face.

Gripping Red's waistband, her breath caught as she felt the smooth leather of Red's holster. Curling her hands about the handle of the heavy steel, Liz slid it free of its holder.

Bracing her body, Liz steadily raised and trained the weapon on their nemesis.

Tobias stopped in his tracks, spitting a mouthful of blood to the ground. "Is this how you win all your battles, Reddington? Let your little bitch handle it?"

"Elizabeth!" Red barked. "Put it down!" Only now noticing her stance.

"No!" Liz yelled her mounting fury.

A large arm reached, snagging her waist... pulling her from Reddington's sphere.

As soon as the warmth of Lizzy's body left his, Red turned on his rival, growling his rage. "No... but I'll show you how I finish bitch fuckers like you!"

"No!" Liz fought against the stronghold and the attempt to take Red's weapon. "No! Let me go!"

"Damn!" Hunter Gaines chuckled, wrestling to keep the woman in his grasp without harming her. "Silas wasn't lying! You're fierce as shit, girl!"

"Elizabeth, stop!" Francis came to Hunter's aide, taking the weapon from Lizzy's hand. "Settle the hell down! You aren't helping here, dammit!"

Straining in their hold, Liz shifted frantic eyes towards Red as he shoved Tobias back against the brick fireplace.

"Behind you!" Hunter warned, giving Francis just seconds to turn and block an intended hit.

Breaking his hold on the woman, Hunter punched out, knocking a man back and away. "These assholes are like cockroaches, shit!"

Hastily reaching, Hunter just missed the woman as Liz scrambled out of his hold.

Crawling along the wet ground, Liz fought to get back to Red... her only focus, to keep the man safe.

Out of nowhere, Francis wrapped an arm about her waist in his haste, knocking her clear of the fisticuffs heading her way. Falling heavily, each grunted with the impact as they hit solid ground.

Jerking to the sound of Lizzy's cry of pain, Red delivered one last punishing blow to Tobias' head... profoundly delighted by the wet crackling of bone splintering under his administrations.

Rushing for her position, Red literally fell over Lizzy's prone form, shielding her from any impending danger.

Locking his arms, Red grunted with the impact of both Dembe and Hunter stumbling their way, subduing one of Tobias' men.

Gripping Lizzy's waist, he slid her out from under him, "Get your ass inside!"

"But I–" she sputtered, puzzled and astounded by the tone the man used.

Shaking the wet bangs from her eyes, Liz's horror magnified as a man loomed just behind them.

Red scowled, backing away as the woman struggled under him.

Frantically reaching for the pole he flung away earlier, Liz's fingers searched the area hastily.

Struggling to her knees, Liz swung the long steel, catching their would-be attacker directly across the face.

The reverb shot up her arm, numbing her fingers gripped around the heavy metal.

Falling in an uncontrolled descent, Francis landed face down in a large puddle of water, unmoving and unresponsive.

"Shit!" she crawled, blocking her friend from a menacing-looking man lunging towards them.

The man gripped her shoulder painfully, yanking at her. Biting pain seared the area, but then... the unforgiving hold broke free.

Craning her neck, Liz watched Red spin the man so quickly, she wasn't exactly sure how the bastard ended up beneath Red as both toppled to the ground.

Laying protectively against Francis, she tried to turn the man's cheek, holding his face from the water below.

Liz watched in awed horror as Red twisted his opponent's hand, ripping something shiny from his grasp...

The heavy rainwater pouring down on them beaded against the razor-edged blade, stunning Liz's senses.

The startling sight of lighting shimmered sickeningly against the long steel, further alarming her comprehension of events.

The guy had a knife?!

The only thing she could hear was the driving rain and Red's heavy breathing.

She blinked the water from her eyes, focusing on Red bent over the assailant, the knife now poised at the guy's throat.

The man struggled frantically to escape Red's hold, then halted all resistance when the blade pressed into his throat, piercing the skin.

A small trickle of blood slid eerily down the man's weathered skin, dripping to the wet ground beneath him.

"Move again." Red hissed, a predatory gleam in his eye. "...Please," he whispered the invitation.

Hunter pushed through the crowd, directing security to secure the unconscious men laying about.

"Reddington..." Hunter alerted the man to his presence... waiting patiently for Red's decision one way or another.

"This is your last reprieve," Red gritted the warning, "next time... I'll fucking kill you."

Pushing off the bastard's chest, Red rolled to his heels and out of the way of Security dragging the prick away.

Pushing at Francis' shoulder, Liz tried flipping his heavy weight to no avail. Running her hand under the man's head, Liz turned his face out of the water yet again.

"Francis!" she wailed piteously.

"Baby, move." Red dropped to his haunches, grabbing the man's arm, shoving Francis to his back.

Placing her ear to Francis chest, Liz listened, "He's not breathing!" she gasped her shock.

Rushing to his side, Mark helped begin the process of removing the fluid from Francis' lungs.

Red quickly rolled Francis to his side, sputtering spasmodically, the boy to spit up the water.

"Oh, God..." Liz cried, brushing Francis' face of grass and mud.

"I feel like an unwanted kitty cat." Francis coughed and wheezed.

Reaching, Red gripped Lizzy's arms, sliding her through the mud beneath them, "What the fuck were you thinking!"

Blinking her shock, Liz sputtered, "I–I..."

"You could have gotten yourself killed!" Red yelled down at her, a hard scowl on his face.

"Stop yelling at her Red." Francis mumbled. "I have a headache..."

"Stay out of this, Francis!" Red bitched at the man.

"I got a say!" Francis groaned, laying back onto the sopping wet ground. "I'm family, dammit!"

Red's body shook with rage and fear as he pushed from the ground, taking Elizabeth along with him as he went.

"I told her not to get involved in this shit!" Red sent the girl a severe glare. "I told her!"

Grasping Francis' hands, Ben and Mark hauled the man off the ground.

"One of us would have ended up dead... or worse, had she not interfered...and you know it!" Francis coughed fitfully.

"He's right, Red." Ben nodded sagely. "Not me, if course... but one of you guys could have bought it, eventually."

"Get him to the doctor." Red grumbled to Dembe. "And shut the hell up, both of you!" he snarled the warning.

Looping Francis' arms around their necks, Dembe and Ben dragged the man to a safer, drier place, as Mark fell in step beside them.

"What did Francis mean?" Liz murmured, still reeling from Red's reaction.

"Now what the fuck do you think he meant!" Red growled his discontent.

Backing up under the intense glare, Liz jumped as the ground shook beneath her feet.

Sighing, Red ran a restless hand across his head, "With you here, we... we wanted it over."

Side-glancing security hauling away another slumped... and seemingly lifeless body, Red arched a glowering brow.

Liz gulped, then startled once more when the sky filled with bright light and an enormous crack split the atmosphere. "Should we be out here?"

"Oh, now you think about your safety?" Red's temper flared.

The woman fell silent, standing morosely, head bowed.

Red shook his head at the picture presented.

Elizabeth stood, beyond drenched and filthy, having dived headfirst into a raucous brawl.

Terrified of the ensuing lighting strikes... she stood, taking her berating like any good soldier would.

Liz glanced nervously up at the night sky, her shoulders creeping higher the longer they stood in the driving rain.

"Come on," Red guided her back through the hotel.

"I screwed up again, didn't I?" she muttered, ducking her head as he led her towards the elevator.

"Yes," Red replied sternly, "Elizabeth, you did."

Rounding the corner, Red scowled hard at the people milling around the elevator, all in an animated discussion of the evening's events.

As the doors opened, the crowd stepped aside, allowing Red to direct Elizabeth inside.

Stepping alone into the box, Red jabbed the button, releasing a tight breath.

Once at their door, Red swiped the wet card twice before it read properly then maneuvered the woman inside, slamming the door... unleashing his rage.

"I swear to God, Elizabeth, if you ever do that again..." he seethed quietly, no real threat coming to mind, not one he could truly carry out, that is.

"I thought..."

"You should have stayed out of it!" he snapped. "You didn't think! Not at all!"

"They outnumbered you!" Liz countered just as angrily.

"We were doing just fine without the intervention!" Red reminded. "Dembe alone, evened up the playing field. You should have never–"

"I couldn't just stand by and not help you!" she lifted her chin, staring unflinchingly at the man. "It's my job!"

"No, it isn't!" he gritted angrily. "You are not Special Agent Elizabeth Keen here!" he snarled, dragging her closer. "You are Elizabeth Scott, my fiancée."

"What's the difference!" she snapped back, honestly confused over the distinction.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!" Red groused his anger.

"You think because I'm your fiancée, I wouldn't help you?" Liz wanted to know.

Red was given pause for thought, the question a legitimate one. A ring on Elizabeth's finger didn't change who she was, if anything, it signified a deeper trust... a loyalty between them.

"Are you telling me that none of the women here," she waved a curt hand, "Susan, for instance, wouldn't have gone out there to help Michael?"

They were entering unknown territory here.

While Red was aware of who Elizabeth was and what her capabilities were... she still was in an unfamiliar landscape, one of which he was all too familiar.

How the hell could he make her understand the logistics of his domain; the rules of people she, by rights... fought against on a daily basis.

"I don't give a fuck what Susan would or wouldn't do!" Red didn't. "I only care about what you do!"

Crossing her arms across her chest, Liz frowned, essentially blocking him out. She glared at the sound of someone knocking on their door, turning her attention back to Red as he stepped menacingly into her sphere.

Scowling in return, Red hovered over the small form. "Listen to what the hell I'm saying, dammit!"

He sensed, however, based on the woman's tense body language and averted gaze... she was blocking him out.

Snapping his head towards the soft knock, Red stalked off, finally yanking at the door, "What!"

Stepping in the opened doorway, Mark returned the surly gaze, "We can hear you bellowing out in the damn hallway."

"I don't give a damn!" Red spat his annoyance, stalking towards the bar.

"Red..." Francis entered, a warm blanket about his shoulders. He crooked his neck this way and that, "calm down, this isn't really productive behavior."

"Shut the fuck up, Francis!" Red splashed a sizable drink into his glass, gripping the thick crystal in his hand.

Francis held up a placating hand, "Surely we can discuss this like the mature adults you guys are." he motioned between Liz and Red.

"Both of you," Red pointed angrily at the door, "get the fuck out!"

Mark shared a commiserating glance with Francis, "...Or maybe not." he quipped.

"Why are you so angry?" Francis snapped.

"Why the hell do you think!" Red spat his fury.

Both men glanced at Elizabeth.

"Damn it, Francis! What the hell is wrong with you!" Red stepped from behind the bar, returning to his original position. "That arena is not a place for a woman... any woman, and you fucking well know it."

"Yeah, but–"

"You say one more word in her defense, I'll beat the living shit out of you." Red snarled, silencing the man. "You're encouraging her to do it again! To take another insane risk! To–"

"I'm not encouraging her to do anything," Francis soothed his ill-tempered friend. "I'm only pointing out that she's fine, she held her own."

"No, she didn't." Red growled. "She didn't! And she put everyone out there in more danger because of her presence!"

Francis winced, watching his best-friend flinch as Red spewed the words.

"We fought harder... we fought dirty, just to get to her." Red closed his eyes, the picture of Tobias' hand around Elizabeth's throat a vivid one.

"I probably killed Tobias just so I could get to her," Red's eyes darkened dangerously.

"No great loss there," Mark muttered, earning a murderous scowl from Red. The man shrugged apologetically, falling silent.

"Dembe snapped someone's fucking neck to get to her." Red jerked his chin to Francis. "What the hell did you do?" he challenged his statement be refuted.

Drawing in a heavy breath, Francis nodded imperceptibly, "These fights break out every year... they're expected!"

Cutting his eyes towards Lizzy, he grimaced when he noticed the woman's lip trembling visibly.

She needed to weep, but she would never do so before these men. She clutched her arms tight around her middle, shivering in the drenched clothing.

"You're upsetting her." Francis muttered dejectedly, for he had noted Liz's condition as well.

Scoffing, Red turned away, scratching a rough hand over his scalp.

"Upsetting her!" Red yelled, throwing the heavy crystal in his hand as hard as he could.

Liz jumped, startling as the glass shattered against the cement balcony.

Mark and Francis shuffled in place, taking the action in stride otherwise.

"You know what's upsetting!" Red did, in fact, bellow. "Her not listening to my fucking warnings and finding her body broken and bleeding out on the fucking floor!"

Francis looked between the couple, his frown deepening. What the hell was Red talking about? Liz wasn't bleeding... a couple of bruises were beginning to take shape, some small lacerations maybe?

The woman appeared fine... a little worse for wear, but essentially fine.

But then... from Red's point-of-view, maybe seeing his lover in such a state was too much.

"Upsetting is, after having warned her to stay away, looking up and finding her caught in the middle of a fucking fire fight," Red snapped angrily, recalling other incidents.

"Or just now, finding a man twice her size just about to snap her fucking neck!" he stalked forward, glaring chillingly at Francis. "Look at her!"

Francis looked at the bruising forming around Lizzy's windpipe. A dark, ugly set of prints set against the pale whiteness of her skin.

The young man began to understand.

"Until you attempt to keep her from bleeding out so she doesn't die in your arms," Red allowed his full rage, "don't fucking dare tell me to calm down!"

Francis swallowed hard at the fear Red felt, for the panic was clearly mirrored in his eyes.

He had never seen Red exhibit such emotion. It shook him to his core.

Not only did Liz have the psycho ex stalking her, but she was intimately involved with Red Reddington. A man who had enemies stretching the globe.

Enemies that had no problem taking away what Red loved most in this world.

And Red knew it... and it terrified him.

And now, Francis had been reminded as well.

It was hard enough protecting Elizabeth from the daily enemies knocking on their door.

But to have her jumping into the fray without a second thought... without taking her safety into consideration?

It was little wonder Red was raging. This was something over which Reddington had no control.

Whatever Red saw... what he felt tonight, made the man experience a fear he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. It set off this uncharacteristic explosion.

What the hell had happened to put the fear of God into Red Reddington?

"...Okay," Francis nodded calmly. "Okay, we get it."

"I knew something wasn't right." Red muttered tightly. "It was only because of that gut feeling that I turned around and went back. If I hadn't, she'd be dead." he remembered the night Carver attacked so damned vividly.

Francis darted his eyes to Red's, seeing the seriousness reflected back, "What are you talking about?"

Elizabeth snapped out of her stupor, "He means today." she lied easily. "He told me he had a feeling that I shouldn't... he said... stay. And I didn't. I didn't listen."

"Tonight," Red nodded, catching his slip, "I knew something was going to happen. I didn't know what..."

Red pushed his palm into his head, pressing at the growing tension. "Cheung about took her away from me, Francis." he stressed, other times flooding his head. "You know what he would have done to her."

Francis knew very well what Cheung would have done. And the thought made him sick. To think of Lizzy being subjected to...

Red was right. She had put herself in danger for no reason whatsoever.

"I can't bear the thought of her hurting," Red slammed his eyes shut, his tight jaw pulsing, "the thought of her dying," he swallowed hard, "... the pain is unimaginable... I c-can't take that"

Liz was moved to tears by the state the man was in, but she held the emotions at bay.

"I know." Francis murmured quietly. "I'm sure she feels the same way about you." he broached the subject. "Which is why she went out there. She was scared for you."

"She was a distraction," Red hung his head, shaking it adamantly, "and you damn well know it."

Liz turned aside, feeling the weight of her hasty decision.

Mark shrugged, not disagreeing with Red's thoughts. "I understand, but I'll tell you... I wish my woman was that loyal, is all I'm going to say on the matter."

Taking a breath, Red calmed some... but not nearly enough for Mark or Francis' peace of mind.

"We've been in worse predicaments," Francis added quietly, "we're handled worse odds." he threw Lizzy a sympathetic smile.

Red's jaw flexed in aggravation, "She can't keep doing this, Francis."

"I agree wholeheartedly." Francis nodded, turning his attention to the woman in question. "Lizzy, you have got to listen to him when he warns you about this shit."

Liz scowled, straightening her posture. She remained uncommunicative.

"Red knows the dangers better than you," Francis pressed his advantage. "He all ready worries for you to the point of distraction, stop adding to that stress."

Liz stood, looking at the storm outside the windows.

Red knew the storm paled to the one inside the woman's mind.

"We're used to these bullshit disagreements." Francis dared her to argue that point. "The help was appreciated, but Red could have handled tonight well on his own."

Liz lifted her head, drawing in a long breath.

"If you don't think so," Francis argued, "you have no faith in him... or his promise to you."

"What?" Liz was pulled from her doldrums, despite her mood.

"Red promised to take care of you," Francis knew, "and that's a job not finished as yet. If you think he won't fulfill a promise to it's fullest–"

"Even if that promise leads to his death" her eyes filled with concern and tears.

"When he has you to get home to," Francis countered, "...not gonna happen."

Liz's brows knitted... remembering Maria had stated almost the same exact thing.

"You listen to me," Francis took her hand in his, rubbing her fingers, "everything Red does, every plan he makes... he has made with you in mind."

"No one can foresee every contingency, Francis." she searched her friend's face religiously.

"I...I appreciate your words, I do," she did, "but two people are involved here, not just Red. I have to fit in somewhere! Don't I get a say?" she wondered. "I don't seem to be any part of the equation here."

The statement bothered Red. Is that how Elizabeth really felt?

"You are the equation." Francis stoutly proclaimed.

"I...I thought I helped out downstairs. I thought," was she mistaken, "I did my part."

Francis exasperated, "You don't get it!" he lamented. "Red could mop the floor with anyone on this property if he wanted to."

"Francis..." Red grunted his embarrassment.

"Well, you could!" Francis waved the issue aside. "Or Dembe could..."

"What about me?" Mark took offense.

Francis pulled a face, "The point is... Red didn't need your help."

Francis turned his head towards Red, both men communicating through the heavy silence. A silence Elizabeth didn't understand.

"Red can take care of himself and so can Dembe... and Mark." Francis assured her. "So you never have to worry about that Red won't get out of some unforeseen situation."

Liz glanced at Red, looking for any hint of truth to what Francis said, and found Red staring steadily back at her.

"...Because," Francis reiterated, "he has reason to!"

"I can only speak for myself, I'm just an associate... a friend," Mark interjected, "if you ask me, this guy here," he hooked a thumb to Reddington, "leads a charmed life. The God's smile down on him."

Francis nodded his agreement, "He's the last guy I would ever worry about if the shit hits the fan."

"So it goes without saying," Francis lifted her chin, holding her eyes steadily, "if the person Red loves most in this world is safely out of the way... like she's supposed to be..." he gave the woman a scolding look. "He can focus on getting the job done, right?"

Liz blinked, looking at the man through the wetness gathered in her eyes.

"He will make it out somehow... someway," Mark prophesied.

"Loyalty above all else." Francis stressed, knowing Lizzy had to have heard Red mutter those words in their time together.

"I'm sure Red loves and cherishes your desire to help him," Francis brushed away the wet hair clinging to her cheek, "but stop adding to his stress. Let him protect you the best way he knows how."

Liz ducked her chin, swallowing at the lump in her throat.

"Trust in Red to return to you." Francis continued. "No matter how bad the odds are... this guy will make it home."

Red felt moved by such 'loyalty'. There appeared to be no limits set on that commodity today.

"Isn't it a two-way street," she frowned her confusion. "It's it my job to help?"

"You want to help Red?" Francis smiled at Lizzy's rapt attention. "Then... be there at the end of the day, safe and alive. That's all he needs."

Hanging her head, Liz looked down at her fingers, anxiously playing with her ring... she had some things to think through.

Kissing her forehead, Francis gestured towards Mark.

Patting Red's arm, Mark opened the door with Francis trailing behind him. "If you need anything..."

As the door shut, Red locked it... leaving the two remaining occupants in silence.

Clenching his hands, he controlled the shaking in his fingers as the last vestiges of his heightened emotions ran their course.

His heart ached watching Lizzy fiddle restlessly with her ring, twisting it back and forth on her finger... her shoulders slumped dejectedly.

She looked so small and lost... sad... worried.

Walking to her, Red looked down upon the crown of her head... the pain in his chest intensifying.

Leaning, his eyes closed tight as he placed his lips to the damp strands of her hair, breathing her scent in.

There was still so much to say... things to discuss and come to terms with. To do so now, however, would run them in circles.

They needed time to come to terms with what had been said... then decide which direction to go from there.

Lifting her gaze to his, Red's heart thawed in his chest as she looked at him with those big blue eyes, red with anguish... and self-doubt.

Tenderly kissing her sad mouth, Red nuzzled her jawline down to her neck... kissing the sadness away.

His eyes closed with relief when he felt her heart beat pulse strongly under the warm flesh.

Wrapping his arms about her small frame, he drew her close, ducking his nose into her neckline.

"You don't know what you put me through tonight..." he whispered against her soft skin.

Gently running his fingers along her bruised throat, he drew in an uneven, shaky breath.

"Did that bastard do any permanent damage?" he examined the skin carefully with a critical eye.

"I'm fine." she whispered, automatically giving the standard reply.

She shivered involuntarily, whether from the cold of her wet clothing or remnant of the day, she wasn't sure.

"You're cold." he observed almost clinically. "Get out of those wet things... we'll get you feeling human again." he murmured, guiding her to their bedroom.

"What about you?" she reached out, tracing his blackened eye and bleeding lip.

"I'm fine... I'll be along in a minute." he tongued the bleed, wiping at a trickle of blood he just then noticed running down the side of his mouth. "You go ahead." he pointed to the bathroom.

Turning towards the area, Lizzy shed her clothes as he walked the room, shutting down lights and securing the door. The man unloaded himself of his wallet and weapon on his nightstand.

Ripping his tie from around his neck, Red balled the ruined silk, chucking it in the nearest trash receptacle.

After finishing his nightly routine, he turned to find Lizzy approaching him, supplies in hand.

She had taken a quick shower and donned a warm robe. Her hair was damp but clean and fragrant. It hung loosely about her pretty face.

"Is something wrong?" he looked her over for any unseen injuries.

"Let me see your hands." she sat her supplies aside, opening a tube of ointment.

He looked at the battered and bruised appendages, "I'm–"

"Fine, yes... I know," she finished for him, motioning the man to sit.

Frowning, Liz reached for his swollen and scraped hand, rubbing the pain relieving gel into his rough skin.

"These are going to hurt like hell tomorrow." she smoothed the roughened skin tenderly. "I don't know if I have any bandages big enough to–"

Cupping her cheek, Red redirected her eyes to his, "Thank you, they'll be fine... really." he smiled affectionately "Now, why don't you get in bed. You still feel cold." Her hands were very much so.

Gently shoving her off towards the bed, Red shut down the lights, watching her crawl under and cuddle into the blankets.

Opening the French doors a crack, the sound of the storm and wind filtered hypnotically in the dark space, coaxing Red to relax into the comfortable bedding.

"Come here." he whispered hoarsely, reaching for her warmth.

Turning about quickly, Liz cocooned herself in his hold, welcoming his warmth and comfort.

"I'm angry with you." she murmured listlessly.

"I know." Red replied softly.

"I don't like it when you yell at me." she frowned... hard.

"I don't either." he agreed.

"You're not even going to justify your reasons?" she felt a little put-out.

"No."

They both knew very well why he had snapped at her. It had been explained... in detail.

His fear for her had reached its maximum depth... he hadn't handled the ensuing emotional onslaught as well as he could have.

Was it right?

No.

Would she ever trust in him enough to allow him latitude when dealing with the problems his world presented?

Probably not.

Did he ever want to be placed in this position again?

Hell no.

Would it happen again?

He wouldn't take that bet, knowing damn well he'd lose.

Tomorrow... they'd talk and he would make her understand these people were not the usual run-of-the-mill criminals she faced on a daily basis.

"You want me to go sleep on the couch? Or get another room?" he offered. "Give you space."

Skimming her fingers along Red's rib cage, Liz silently lost herself in her own thoughts for several moments.

"...No." Liz sighed. "I'm just... I'm angry."

"All right..." Red relaxed fully back into the sheets. "May I kiss you good night?"

Lifting her chin, Liz accepted his affection.

Kissing the woman's soft, warm mouth...calmed him like nothing else could.

To feel her respond to his exploration after such an ordeal allowed him the ability to breathe.

Red felt his world center knowing Elizabeth was okay... she was alive and laying next to him, as she should be.

Rolling to his elbow, he increased the pressure of his mouth, hooking an arm about her waist. Pulling her closer under his bulk, the woman wrapped an arm about his shoulder, comfortingly stroking the nape of his neck.

Without thought, his body responded to her closeness and the feel of her soft skin against his, his cock hardening.

Working his way to her neck, Red brushed his gentle mouth along the long line, nuzzling the fragrant flesh.

"My head hurts..." Liz murmured, sensing matters were going further than even Red originally intended.

Red's previous anger still stung her.

Squeezing his eyes tight, Red inwardly groaned his despair... more than understanding the universal sign all men knew... and abided by.

Not tonight, dear.

Dropping his forehead to her pillow, Red grimaced, willing his erection to recede as he obeyed Elizabeth's quiet directive.

Red fought his way, Lizzy fought hers...

He hurt her... she hurt him.

Nothing was more painful to Red than being denied access to Lizzy... and she knew it.

Smoothing his hand across her delicate features, he silently nodded his understanding... giving her one last kiss before he rolled off to her side.

Focusing on the rain pouring freely against their balcony, Red glanced his surprise as the woman cuddled into his side, settling into sleep.

A smile worked its way across his face after a brief hesitation, before returning the affection, snuggling her closer to his warmth.

Elizabeth may be angry with him, may have even denied him making love to her... but she still loved him.

Red found he was more than okay with that.