Watching over Elizabeth's sleeping form, Red's brow furrowed as the woman shifted restlessly in her sleep once more.
Since they began sharing sleeping arrangements, it was rare for Elizabeth's sleep state to be so disturbed. Only after high-stress situations did she awake to a panic attack or nightmare, though they were becoming few and far between.
The nightmare she experienced after recalling her father's death was understandable. Red would have been concerned had she not reacted to the vivid detail of that horrible tragedy.
Even the night terror she endured after witnessing his shootout during the Lawford fiasco was self-explanatory. They had just found one another... expressed their love. Of course, the possibility of losing him so early on had been upsetting.
Only once, to his knowledge, had she awoke in a panic... because he wasn't there. That moment had left him so conflicted. It hurt to think she felt so upset. But when he realized it was a sign their relationship was evolving, he experienced a tinge of excitement.
The tension and agitation Lizzy exhibited now was disheartening. Not since her run in with Carver had Lizzy's sleep been so disturbed.
Elizabeth had grown so much, become so confident... would this one moment erase all those past accomplishments?
Elizabeth had been in the relative safety of their room when she awakened to a nightmare, one of which she had to confront in a vulnerable state.
No matter how capable a person, when awakened from a dead sleep, it took a few moments to acclimate themselves to their surroundings... especially a traumatic one.
When one added in other factors such she was sluggish, tired and naked... he believed she performed admirably.
In normal circumstances, he had no doubt whatsoever Elizabeth could have handled the likes of Edward Costa.
Which made him wonder... what was he missing now?
The woman murmured softly in her sleep, shifting restlessly about, a frown marring her smooth brow. Easing closer to her person, Red tenderly stroked her hip, whispering nonsensical words.
Lovingly kissing her temple, he held his breath until, at length, she settled and rested against him.
If he had learned nothing else about Elizabeth Keen, he knew she would see her fall during the confrontation as a failure.
While he saw it as the complete opposite. From his vantage point, Costa got in a lucky hit.
Of course, what he thought didn't matter, he knew that.
Elizabeth would have to replay events and come to the realization herself.
Red hesitated, frowning as a thought came to mind. What was it about this confrontation that differed from her face-off with Tom?
After Elizabeth's brawl with Tom...she had slept remarkably well that night.
Granted, she wrapped herself in the security of the blankets to seek solace, but not because of her fisticuffs with Tom, but what that bastard had said about her father.
No, tonight, something was definitely bothering her subconsciously. Even in her dreams, she fought against her demons.
Had something occurred... which she did not confide in him?
While he had wished to push the issue and call the doctor to examine her, when Elizabeth vetoed the idea, he backed off, for it was not his call to make.
It had upset him at the time, but surely Elizabeth would have told the physician had something needed to be addressed.
Canting his head curiously, Red stared down at the woman beside him. He felt restless... unsettled.
He sensed Elizabeth had omitted a vital bit of intel.
What had that bastard, Edward, done to Elizabeth before and after she made that fateful call which alerted him to her predicament?
Remnants of the event played in a disturbing echo in his mind, conjuring all sorts of equally disturbing visuals.
He tried all night to shake the images.
When Edward vowed he had not touched Elizabeth, Red admitted, if only to himself... he was more than profoundly relieved.
But now... the doubts emerged. That bastard knew the consequences of his actions. Any sane person would; and yet, there was a moment Costa seemed to believe everything could actually work to his advantage.
What had that degenerate done in the interval Red could not be there?
Had the son-of-a-bitch only gagged her with that tie or... worse?
When Edward said fucking her would make him feel better, then Elizabeth yelled out that he was hurting her... was the act already in progress?
Tightening his arm about her waist, Red burrowed his nose in Elizabeth's soft hair, swallowing against the painful knot in his throat.
They had been so close to having everything. They were in love, engaged to marry... and in the blink of an eye, it was all taken from them.
"Dammit," he snarled quietly, angered by his thoughts and the cruelty Fate could deliver.
Elizabeth was a fighter. She would not give up so easily... and neither would Red Reddington. He made that decision here and now.
They promised one another to talk through their problems and find solutions to fix what was broken. Whatever the circumstances, they would find a balance and work through it.
That promise was as sacred to him as any vow, and he intended to live up to it. He would be the support Elizabeth needed, come hell or high water.
He shook the black cloud of despair hounding him resolutely.
Looking down at the woman's profile, Red readied himself for what lay ahead as Elizabeth shifted once more in his arms...struggling against the blankets.
"I'm here, sweetheart," he soothingly caressed her hip, whispering softly, "nothing can harm you now, just rest."
Pushing into his body, Liz's eyes flew open, her breath catching roughly in her throat a millisecond before she recognized the man's scent.
Blinking away her disorientation, she groaned miserably when exhaustion pulled at her eyelids, though they refused to close.
"I'm sorry..." she sighed dejectedly, having registered Red's quiet, reassuring tone.
"Tell me," Red murmured quietly.
"I..." she shook her head, snuggling under the blankets, "it's just a bad dream, it's nothing."
"Talk to me, Lizzy," he encouraged. "It will help. I promise." Experience said, if she got even a little of what disturbed her off her chest... she would rest easier.
Propping his head on his fist, Red waited while she gathered her thoughts.
"It was so... dark and foreboding." she began, wanting to share, needing to ease her mind. "You... you weren't there. I couldn't see you. I couldn't hear you." Liz whispered tiredly, a hint of despair in her voice.
Though he was uncertain what the dream entailed; the sentiment was the same.
"And that's how you know it's a nightmare," he turned her to face him, aligning his eyes with her red-rimmed ones. "You know I'd come for you... I'd find you." He vowed. "I would do anything to get you back; to have you safe with me... you know that."
"I know.." she muttered drowsily, "I do know."
"Then believe it." he assured without hesitation. "I will come for you... always."
"I'm so tired." she said, fighting the pull of sleep.
The woman's dispirited, forlorn tone broke his heart.
"Sleep, Lizzy," he rubbed his hand along her back, causing her eyes to droop further. "I'll be right here, watching over you. I'm not going anywhere. Sleep..."
Continuing a steady stream of quiet assurance, Red breathed his relief when the woman finally succumbed, falling into an exhausted slumber.
Resting his forehead against her own, Red fought his own need for sleep, "I'm right here..."
Watching dawn crest the horizon, Red rubbed drowsy eyes, clenching his jaw against the impending headache brewing.
Slowly inching to the edge of the bed, he sat upright, wiping rough hands over his face.
His body sent warning signals to his brain. Twice, when evading enemy combatants, similar warnings surfaced; he faced harsh elements and situations as well. Once, in the desert where he had very little water, let alone shade. The other, in the snow covered tundra with little less to his name than a week's ration and a thin thermal blanket.
Even though existing on little sleep and fighting uncompromising odds; Red truly believed he had never felt as exhausted as he did at this very moment.
His entire body ached with burning intensity. His brain felt as if it were on fire. Each beat of his heart sent a searing jolt of pain throbbing through his injured hand.
Glancing over his shoulder at the, now peacefully, sleeping woman... everything he was experiencing suddenly felt worth it.
Gingerly standing, Red slowly stumbled his way to the bath, closing the door quietly behind him. Washing his face in the sink, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror... sighing heavily.
His ashen complexion highlighted his dark, sunken eyes. The normally blue irises were bloodshot and soulless.
Having become accustom to seeing a smile on his face of late, it hurt to see the pinched and colorless difference now, especially knowing the cause.
He looked like death warmed over.
Pushing away from the sink, Red stepped into the shower, turning the jets on full. Leaning his arms into the tile wall, he let the pulsing water pound relentlessly against his shoulders and neck, offering some relief.
Cursing under his breath, a thought occurred.
He should have taken his pills before coming in; it would have eased the ache more. No matter, he felt this headache was to follow him throughout the day.
Awkwardly shaving and waking more under the scorching water, Red geared himself up for what the day would hold.
Taking the required medication and haphazardly reapplying a new dressing to his hand, Red stood over the sleeping woman, straightening his tie.
Gently tracing the bruising on Lizzy's cheek, his eyes closed painfully.
He brought them here to get away from everything. They were meant to rest, relax and recuperate. Adding to the perfection was the affection and love they shared.
Instead, Lizzy's fears of storms intensified, and she endured a heinous assault.
Fantastic getaway, Red.
Controlling the rising anger, Red abruptly spun on his heel, grabbing his phone from the side-table.
Closing the bedroom door behind him, Red dialed his phone without thought, walking through the spacious suite.
Red breathed when he heard the line click, his tension abating. "...Kate."
"What's wrong, Raymond?" the woman's clipped tone further eased his agitation. It was normal, something familiar.
Leaning against the wall, Red closed his eyes to the reality. "Edward attacked Elizabeth last night."
"And you have addressed this problem... how?" Kate wanted to know.
"He is no longer an issue... in any regard."
"...Did he rape her?" Kate asked quietly.
Hearing that word, a hot sting of warmth prickled his eyes as Red choked on the air. All night, he had avoided voicing that word. That small, four letter word, more vile than any curse he spewed at that bastard, Costa.
"Breathe, Raymond," Kate soothed, clearly hearing Raymond's distress.
"I'm... I'm not sure." Red addressed the issue haltingly. "God, Kate... the things that asshole said... what I saw.."
While she didn't know the particulars of what Raymond saw or heard, the anguish in the man's tone said enough.
What she did know, however, was Elizabeth Keen was an open book. One she could easily read.
Granted, given events, Kate understood why Raymond questioned what may be right in front of his face.
"Did she seek out your comfort last night?" Kate fished for details, making the man focus on the here and now.
Red knew Elizabeth stayed close to his side all night, even sought him on occasion if he moved too far away. "...Yes."
"Did she let you touch her?" Kate further investigated.
Lizzy not only let him touch her, she gripped the arm he settled around her waist most of the night. "...Yes."
Inhaling an even breath, Kate had to admit... she felt relieved.
Though she had misgivings about Raymond's relationship with Elizabeth, she had to confess... the man was happier and his work had not suffered since the change in their relationship.
To think of that one bright spot being taken from him, hurt Kate deeply.
"Then she's telling you what she needs from you, isn't she." Kate didn't doubt her judgement in the slightest.
Red hoped that was the case, but his instincts were telling him to move with caution.
"Take her out in private," Kate suggested, "away from distraction... and openly discuss what happened." she said. "For both your sakes, clear the air so there is no doubt."
"Should I..." he hesitated, "call Timothy and get him involved, or is that too much pressure on her?"
Timothy, Kate knew, had been counseling Raymond and Elizabeth on what occurred during the fire and had made remarkable progress, according to Dembe.
A trust and familiarity had formed between the three, so if needed... they had a basis with which to work.
"Get the conversation started," Kaplan advised, "see where it goes. If you hit a stalemate, ask Elizabeth her input. If she believes Timothy's services are warranted, she will share the fact."
"All right," Red nodded. "I can do that." the tightness in his throat eased. A game plan formed in his head finally.
"Communicate, be supportive," Kaplan outlined ideas, "and I truly believe Elizabeth will be fine... given time."
"Thank you, Kate." Red stressed the words.
"Where is Edward?" Kate shifted focus.
"Burning in hell, I would wager." Red grumbled.
"Be that as it may," Kate granted, "if I were to look for him... where would he be?" she chose her words carefully, for while the line was secure... it always paid to be circumvent.
"I haven't the slightest clue." Red told the truth. So focused on Elizabeth, he hadn't bothered to ask or even care what the hell they did with that rotting bastard.
"When you find out," Kate tutted her disapproval "have Dembe alert me and I will dispose of the problem." she advised curtly. "I expect to hear from you shortly."
Red's eyes softened for the woman's disapproving and curt tone... and the definitive click of her hanging up without warning, feeling slightly more centered than he was minutes before.
For he knew how the next conversation would pan out, Red poured a small, yet bracing drink... dialing the next number.
"...Antonio," Red controlled his tone as the man greeted him in return. "No... no, everything is not all right."
Sitting on the porch deck, he settled into the cushioned seat for the long haul before relating events which took place.
Hanging up the phone, Red's chin dropped wearily, his phone hanging precariously in his hand.
Never had he felt so enervated after a phone call, especially one occurring before eight in the morning.
"God," he groaned miserably. It felt like hours since he picked up the phone, yet it couldn't be more than half-an-hour.
This was going to be one long day, that much was obvious.
Pushing from the lounge, Red made his way to the bedroom, cracking the door slightly ajar. Looking in on Elizabeth, he breathed his relief to find the woman still sleeping peacefully.
While he had a strong desire to wake her...to discuss the turmoil of last evening... he knew Lizzy needed to rest.
He also knew he needed to handle the problem of Edward Costa's disposal; if one were warranted.
Mark was nothing if not efficient. Red would be surprised if the man hadn't tossed Edward's corpse in the hotel incinerator and called it a day.
Grabbing a room key left on the foyer table, Red opened the door to find Dembe already standing there. Stepping out into the hall, Red closed the door behind him, locking it tight.
Red glanced at the other man present.
"You remember, Matthew." Dembe motioned.
"I do," Red shook hands with the security guard. "I also know, you are Susan's guard."
"Susan sent me." Matthew stressed. "She wished for me to shadow Elizabeth while you conduct business."
"I do not wish to take you from your duties." Red shook his head negatively. "I will make arrangements for Elizabeth..."
"Susan wished I inform you," Matthew interjected as ordered, "I am one of four personal guards present."
Apparently, Susan coached the man on how to speak to Reddington.
"Until security is in place for Elizabeth, you will accept my help as Susan's security is well in hand." Matthew said.
Feeling a weight lift from his shoulders, Red nodded his acquiescence... silently thanking Susan for her generosity and stubbornness.
"Thank you," Red shook the man's hand once more. "In the meantime, Elizabeth is not to be left alone for one second."
The young man nodded. "I understand, sir."
The keycard was re-inserted, the door opened. "I don't expect to be long, but.."
"Michael has briefed me on the particulars, sir." Matthew was reassurance itself, his steady, penetrating gaze a confident one. "She will be safe with me."
Red breathed easier. He watched the man enter the suite.
"There are two additional guards stationed outside the perimeter." Dembe related. "And one at each end of the corridor here." he motioned to the personnel standing guard.
"I will not leave the young lady's side, sir." Matthew assured.
Red nodded minutely, hesitating still.
"It will upset Elizabeth if you do not follow your usual routine." Dembe sensed Red's reluctance to leave. "By doing so, you are reaffirming your faith in her abilities... are you not?"
Red sent the man a peeved scowl. "Do you always have to be so fucking... right, all the time?"
"I do," Dembe appeared proud of the fact which oddly put Red at ease, finally.
"You're an asshole."
Matthew held his amusement admirably.
"Perhaps, but that doesn't make me any less correct." Dembe managed straight-faced. "Oh, and I want a raise for that remark."
"I always fall for that ploy," Red sighed woefully. "How many raises does that make this year?" he seriously wanted to know.
"Not nearly enough," Dembe suggested evenly. "You could do better."
Offering the man a staid look, Red set his hat in place... walking out the door.
Making their way down the stairs, Red's stride gained in urgency the further he traversed the lobby, and the more the distance grew between him and Elizabeth.
Dembe could feel his friend's agitation grow the closer they got to Mark's office.
As the office door came into view, Raymond's temper reached a boiling point.
Bursting through the doorway, the heavy oak bounced hard off the wall until caught in Dembe's capable hands, who shut it quietly behind the seething individual.
All conversation ceased as those inside the room turned sharp attention to a very belligerent and raging Red Reddington.
"I want to know who the fuck let that fucker inside this hotel," Red hissed, "right now!"
Shuffling in their stance, Red glared at the individuals in turn... his expression shifting to one of bewilderment, as the answer was forthcoming.
"...Me," Ben murmured despondently. "I did."
Taking in Ben's disheveled and exhausted appearance, Red shook his head in open amazement.
"What the hell?" Red couldn't wrap his mind around this information. What the hell possessed Ben, of all people, to bring Edward here.
"Red, if I had known about that fucker," Ben swallowed with difficulty, "you know I would have never..."
"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Red stressed the words. "What the hell were you–"
"Mark mentioned merchandise needing to be moved out of Huston," Ben related events, "and Edward was available..." the man shook a woeful head. "Red, you don't know how truly sorry I am... how sick I feel about what happened."
"Red, he couldn't have known." Mark placated Red's simmering rage. "Ben didn't know about Edward's run-ins with Elizabeth like we did." he gestured between himself and Francis.
Taking a calming breath, Red knew the truth when he heard it. "You couldn't know what that sick bastard was planning... none of us did."
It didn't take a genius to know Ben was carrying this burden as heavily as Red was at the moment. It was obvious the young man got as little sleep as Red had.
Sitting heavily in the chair beside him, Red tossed his hat on the side table, roughly rubbing his hands across his weary face; his own exhaustion weighing on him.
His worry for Elizabeth consumed him. He felt sick to his stomach. Sick at heart.
The men in the room fell silent, seeing a different side of Red Reddington, a side that made them respect him even more than they already did.
"Has anyone heard from Danny?" Red rasped.
"He was running the list through his system." Mark related what he knew. "I think he went down to the stables while he waited for it to finish."
"Where's Lizzy?" Francis wanted to know.
"She was still sleeping when I left," Red muttered. "Michael, please extend my appreciation to Susan for her offer of Matthew's services." he recognized the woman's generosity.
"Susan was adamant, as you well know." Michael arched a wry brow. Both men knew how strong-willed Susan could be.
"I will see to securing Elizabeth a security detail as soon as possible." Red assured all the same.
"It's fine," Michael waved the issue aside. "Besides, it's not like I don't have other guards tailing Susan's ass, Red." the man scoffed. "Otherwise, I'd never have an accurate count of how much that woman spends in one day."
Laughing softly, Red smiled slowly... the feeling a good one.
"Thank you." Red felt relief.
Pushing off the seat, he took another bracing breath, turning his attention to Mark. "Now, where the hell did you put that disgusting bastard?"
Escorting Red down to the bottom floor of the hotel, Mark gestured the entourage down a long corridor of offices and storerooms, guiding the way.
"Something that's been bothering me," Francis frowned at Mark, "how did Edward get in their room in the first place?"
"I reviewed the logs, a keycard was used." Mark's lips pinched irritably.
"How the hell is that possible?" Francis bitched his displeasure.
"I pulled up the security tapes, and it looked like that asshole tried swiping a dummy card when an employee approached." Mark glanced over his shoulder, a dark look on the handsome face.
"So, what's your point?" Francis scowled.
"The man saw Costa having trouble accessing the room, escorted him to the front desk..." the breach in protocol was infuriating, "and issued him a new key."
"He didn't ask for ID or anything?" Francis squawked his disbelief.
"What is a serial rapist?" Red muttered tightly.
Snapping his head about, Francis' scowl deepened, not quite following Red's train of thought.
Mark did, however, sighing heavily. "... Charming."
Tapping in a string of numbers into the keypad, Mark waited for the light to shift to green before turning the handle.
"I have security pulling the schedule now to see who was on shift last night," Mark grumbled his ire. "They should get back to me shortly. I'll have whoever's head is responsible!"
Flicking the lights on, Red's attention flit over the numerous office supplies, instantly focusing on the distorted shape on the table opposite him.
"You'll bill me for the damages to the room, of course," Red muttered distractedly, approaching the covered corpse.
"I will not," Mark vehemently denied that request. "Personally, I wouldn't have blamed you had you torched the damn place."
What an odd sensation. All morning Red felt as though his world was caving in around him. Every emotion he could have experienced inundated him to the point he felt he would go mad from the dizzying process.
But now, as he stood here staring down at Edward's lifeless form... he didn't feel a damn thing.
"I wish I had been the one to end him." Red said, breaking the silence.
"Why didn't you?" Mark asked curiously.
"Elizabeth was there," clearing his throat, he glanced over his shoulder. "It ruins the romance if I kill people when she's around."
"And lobbing a dick off doesn't?" Francis shivered at the remembrance.
"Truthfully, I think she'll be pissed she didn't get to the task first." Red stated what he believed was a fact.
"What do you want to me to do with him?" Mark hooked a careless thumb.
"I'll alert Kaplan." Red said. "She'll handle it from here. You'll just have to let her people in."
"Oh," Mark shrugged, "yeah, okay. That'll work."
Pulling his phone free, Red placed it to his ear, glancing back at his friend. "Dembe, you know where I'll be." he walked away, purposeful in his stride.
Ensuring Edward's disposal was being handled, Dembe pushed through the gym doors, finding Raymond already changed and preparing.
Tossing his bag to the bench beside him, Dembe removed his shirt and pants. Pulling a pair of loose shorts from his bag, he slid them on over his hips.
"You're going to further injure your hand." he said, gesturing to Raymond's bandaged fingers.
Wrapping his fingers tight, Red hit them against his palm, feeling nothing more than a slight twinge. "It's getting worse every minute that passes, Dembe."
Standing, Dembe sighed... knowing exactly to what Raymond referred.
When Elizabeth had married Tom, Dembe had been stuck in Iran with a shipment, unable to get to Raymond. Who, after attending the wedding, ended up walking around naked, in the desert, high as a kite, until Silas had found him days later.
After Elizabeth learned Raymond killed her father, Sam... the woman's justifiable anger and feeling of betrayal had cut Red to the core.
Having no way to vent his frustration, the man went on a bender.
With the heavy drinking, came a dark anger. It reached a boiling point when Raymond killed two of their associates for a mistake made.
Admittedly, had Raymond not stepped in and fixed the problem, countless people would have died.
But the action itself, putting the men down, was not Raymond's usual style. Normally when disappointed with associates such as those men, he would shuttle them off to a different position until the heat blew over.
Thankfully, by accident, Dembe stumbled over another less destructive outlet to allow Raymond to vent pent up rage.
"Everything you've got, Dembe."
Adjusting the gloves on his wrists, Dembe sighed when he noticed their absence on Raymond's hands.
Removing his own, Dembe tossed them aside, waving Raymond forward in a lackadaisical manner that he knew pissed the man off.
Narrowing his eyes angrily was all the warning Dembe got before deflecting the full impact of the punch thrown his way.
This was going to be a long session, the large man sensed.
Dembe gave a hard glancing blow across Raymond's chest, followed by another more punishing hit.
Punch after punch was thrown, more than he probably wanted to count, connected with their intended target.
Thankfully, Raymond was wearing the same padding he was, probably because of Elizabeth.
Normally, Raymond wore nothing, taking the hits where they fell. That he'd be bruised for days didn't seem to matter. If anything, Dembe would say Raymond found the pain... healing, in some manner.
As the bruises healed, the mental pain healed as well.
Though, now that Raymond was sharing space with his Lizzy... he needed to be careful of visible injuries.
Dembe wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing? Would the padding dampen the release Raymond needed and they would end up here again in a couple days' time? Or would Raymond revert to more unorthodox methods?
As the minutes ticked by, sweat poured from their bodies and skin burned with rough scrapes, Dembe finally felt Raymond's rage flare into an incandescent fury.
A steady rhythm of blows hit their target, which Dembe returned in kind... pushing the other man to his limits.
Throwing up his arm to block an intended punch, Dembe hastily glanced over his shoulder as the door opened.
Francis and Mark stepped inside, their mouths agape, stunned by the display happening before their eyes.
Growling his anger, Red spun, hitting the wall. Punching the immovable object brutally and repeatedly, the man tore through the protective wrapping covering his hand... smearing the wall with his blood.
Intending to stop the man, Dembe threw out his arm, stopping Francis and Mark from interfering.
"Don't... let him be." Dembe advised solemnly.
"He's gonna to fuck up his hand." Francis gestured incredulously.
"The damage is done," Dembe knew, unwrapping his own hands of their binding as Raymond's savage punches slowed, then stopped.
Placing his palms flat against the wall, Red rested his forehead against the cool concrete. Slowly lowering to his haunches, he leaned heavily into the wall, breathing through the last vestiges of his anger.
"What the hell is going on here?" Francis whispered.
"It is how he rids his mind of the demons..." Dembe watched the man raise up off the floor and head for the showers without a backward glance. "It is done."
Breathing their relief, Mark and Francis watched Dembe follow the same path and disappear into the showers.
A short time later, both men emerged, fresh as they arrived... though a little worse for wear than before.
The gym looked as clean as when they arrived as well. The gear was disinfected and stowed away... and the blood on the wall was gone.
"Raymond, let me wrap your hand." Dembe said, even as he reached for the tape.
Clenching his jaw, Red stubbornly headed for the door.
"Lizzy will wonder why your hand is so fucked up." Francis called out, stopping the man in his tracks. "You really want to discuss that before she's had breakfast?"
Dembe and Mark shared a grin, as Red took a step back and grudgingly held his hand aloft.
Making quick work of the bandaging, Dembe patted the man's arm when he finished.
"Come, I'll buy you a pack of Marlboro's." Mark patted Red on the shoulder, pushing the door open.
Rolling over, Liz's arm fell on the empty bed, waking her. Slowly opening her eyes, she glanced about, already knowing Red wasn't here just by the unnatural silence.
It didn't stop her from calling out for the man, however, just on the off-chance her senses were skewed. A chance glance at a nearby clock explained his absence.
Red would have been awake for a while now. Though, knowing the man, she would wager he hadn't slept at all.
She worried about the guilt he carried, over things he had no possible control. It made her want to smack some sense into him.
Throwing aside the blankets, she sat upright, grimacing for the pull in her sore muscles. Stretching out the kinks, Liz hurriedly set about readying herself for the day... and setting a few things straight with Red Reddington.
Giving her hair one last flip, she opened the door to find a bulky, compact man on the other side.
Liz blinked, startled. "What's going on?" she instantly questioned. "Is something wrong with Red?"
Smiling kindly, Matthew gestured to the phone in her hand. "Mr. Reddington asked you call him."
"Elizabeth..." Dembe called out, arriving in the suite. "You remember, Matthew?" he nodded to the guard.
"Yeah, of course," she smiled as an afterthought at the man.
"Matthew will be with you when Raymond or I have to step away." Dembe alerted the woman to the way of things.
"That's very kind of you," she graciously thanked the guard, before turning narrowed eyes on Dembe. "Where is Red?" she enunciated the words.
Ducking his chin, Matthew withheld his grin of amusement for the woman's tart tone and suspicious eyes.
"I'll take her now, Matthew," Dembe guided Elizabeth forward. "Thank you."
"When you need me," Matthew held a card aloft, "... just call." he nodded. "Ma'am..."
"Thank you, Matthew." she called after the retreating figure.
"What the hell was that all about?" Liz asked abruptly as Matthew disappeared from sight.
"You must ask? Security, or lack thereof, was the reason behind your recent troubles." Dembe brought her up-to-date.
"If you did not have a protection detail of some sort in place, Raymond would have become insufferable." Dembe smiled gently at the woman beside him.
"So, really, nothing would have changed?" she replied, then chuckled for Dembe's long-suffering look.
"You have to understand," Dembe continued, "this is the most secure building this side of Dallas." he informed the woman readily. "After what occurred last night, Raymond is understandably... upset."
"Oh, no," she groaned, but smiled at a group of women in passing, "please tell me he didn't give Mark a hard time."
"No," Dembe hedged, "though questions arose as to how Edward gained access to your room."
"I was wondering the same damned thing." she admitted peevishly.
Relaying what he knew, Dembe opened the back door leading to the smoke deck, gesturing her through.
"Hey, the guy was just doing his job." Liz said, feeling bad for the employee. "Mark orders his people to cater to guests, and that's what the man did. He was in a no-win situation." she supported the employee.
Dembe smiled warmly at the woman, "Perhaps you may sway him to rethink his decision."
"You know as well as I do, some in attendance would have been highly offended when asked to show identification."
Dembe inclined his head. "There are always two sides to a tale."
"What the hell, Red?" Liz stomped her way over to the man, a frown pulling at her pretty mouth.
Snapping upright, Red glanced over his shoulder, ready for any problem headed his way. "What?" he was alert, overly wary. "What's wrong?"
"You want to give a little warning when you stick a new guard on me," she grumbled her displeasure. "It scared the shit out of me, opening that door and finding Matthew hovering there."
Ignoring Francis' snort of amusement, Red sat back, taking his medicine like the good soldier he could be if he wanted.
"A note would be nice next time! Some kind of heads up?" she placed tight fists on her hips, glowering at her fiancée.
"Red's taking his berating like a man," Mark muttered to Francis, "... I admire that."
Red shifted a lazy stare, having overheard the remark.
"Oh, shut up," Liz scowled a surly look. "I'll get to you in a minute." she eyed Mark specifically, much to Francis' delight.
Mark's brows lifted in surprise, looking aimlessly about for answers to why he was suddenly on Elizabeth's shit list.
Grinning slowly, Red's eyes softened on the woman. "Feeling better today, are we?"
To see Lizzy's spunk and bravado on full display offered him hope he didn't feel even ten minutes ago.
"I mean it, Red," she walked the last few feet to his position, "when you..." she trailed off when she saw the cigarette dangling from his fingers. "You really will inhale anything, won't you?"
Pulling a long drag from the filter, Red peered up at the woman with a challenging look. "I like to experiment... don't you?"
"No," she lifted that defiant chin he so loved.
Red offered the woman a knowing look.
"Well... maybe about certain things." she admitted sotto voce. "But not in this case, Red Reddington."
"A guy has to have some kind of outlet for pent-up... emotions." he smiled, holding his hand out for her.
"You're not getting around me that easily." she took his hand anyway, allowing herself to be maneuvered to a seat next to him. "Communication is the key to a successful relationship."
She leaned, kissing his lips gently before pulling back.
Elizabeth often initiated affectionate contact between them nowadays, but he had not expected this closeness so soon.
"You are forgiven, this once." she patted his arm like she would Hudson, had the animal accidentally peed on the carpet.
"Keep a pad of sticky notes in your breast pocket at all times from now on." she advised.
Flicking the ash on his cigarette, he turned his face away from her, inhaling the sweet nicotine bliss. Blowing out, the stiff wind caught the billowing plume, carrying it out and away from Lizzy.
Red held his smile when Lizzy wrote on an imaginary sticky-note. "Do not be scared shitless, Lizzy. New guard on duty... have a nice day, smiley face emoji." she offered a sweet smile. "See, that's not so difficult, is it?"
"As you well know, I follow directions quite well." Red smiled, rubbing a hand along her back.
"Wow... were those that thick last night?" she noted the new bandages on Red's hand.
"It's fine," he murmured softly, then chuckled at her disapproving frown. "Really, why Dembe felt the need to wrap the entire hand..." he shrugged. "Repeats of The Mummy last night gave him inspiration."
"Had I been thorough," Dembe arched a brow, "I'd have placed your organs in Canopic jars."
"See?" Red waved a nonchalant hand to his friend. "Was it the newer version or..."
"Yes," Dembe confirmed. "I identify with Ardeth Bay on many levels."
"That guy's so familiar," Red muttered.
"You're a Medjai?" Francis frowned his confusion, then brightened. "Oh, weird... you kind of are a protector against the underworld, only..." he looked at Red thoroughly forlorn, "you aren't a Pharaoh."
"He is not," Dembe seemed more than disappointed in that fact.
"In this day and age," Red corrected any misconceptions, "I would have had Pharaohs in my pocket."
Humming a lively tune, Francis began the distinctive dance movements of the old Bangles hit, "Walk Like an Egyptian."
"Don't start, Francis." Liz gingerly kicked the guy's shins for his efforts.
Francis instantly rubbed the area. "Okay... we sure got up on the wrong side of bed today, didn't we!"
"I'm gonna mummify your head!" Liz warned.
"Don't make promises you won't keep!" Francis narrowed his eyes. "You know I've always had a fascination with that shrunken head shit!"
"I haven't had my coffee yet, Francis." Liz explained her mood, offering a death glare.
"For God's sake," Mark motioned overly frantic to a passing server. "Get this woman a cappuccino, stat!"
Red smiled for Lizzy's expressive roll of her eyes. "Oh, I'm not that bad..."
"Yeah, okay... sure, whatever." Francis clearly differed on the matter.
"When I was in college, I signed on to take part in a dig in Giza," Red reminisced suddenly, sitting back against the chaise, finally feeling better.
"You did?" Liz beamed her surprise. Red seemed to have a knack for living life and experiencing new things.
"I did," he nodded. "Met the most socially stunted, yet brilliant budding archeologist." he told the tale. "Academia ridiculed Jackson's theories, but he had such passion... you wanted to believe him."
Liz gave the man her undivided attention. She loved his stories, truth told, for they were interesting and exciting.
"Did you unearth anything?" she wondered.
"Some pottery, jewelry..." Red remembered.
"Do any grave robbing?" Michael grinned.
"I wasn't quite the criminal then you now know."
"More's the pity," Michael shrugged. "You could have made a killing... I hear tell." he added innocently.
"I appreciated the challenge and patience it taught me, more than anything." Red admitted. "The local nightlife scene wasn't bad either." a slow smile curved his lips.
Rolling her eyes, Liz scoffed. "Oh, here we go..."
"Jackson had the most darling assistant," Red fondly remembered the woman. "She was the quintessential book worm in spectacles."
"Oh my God, please tell me she was a brunette?" Francis fawned openly. "Maybe wore khaki knee socks?"
Shaking his head, Red sent Michael a sideways look "And khaki shorts."
"God... it's like a fantasy come true." Francis mooned starry eyed.
While all men present understood the fantasy... the boy's reaction was amusing.
"What is it with you and knee socks?" Liz had to know.
"Francis is a leg man," Red murmured. "Don't mention thigh-high stockings unless you want to see his head explode."
"It's tempting," Liz sent her friend a scolding look. "So what were these theories this Jackson guy expounded?" she clarified.
Chortling quietly, Red's grin widened.
"What?" Liz smiled at his good humor. "Does this deal with aliens?"
"I can't tell you... it's classified." Red replied, inhaling his cigarette dramatically.
"Funny," Liz scowled, clearly not amused. "What was his theory?"
"No, really," Red smiled pleasantly, "it's classified."
"I saw a documentary on alien abductions recently," Francis made mention. "It was eerie." he shivered.
"Eerily familiar, you mean?" Michael had to question.
Snorting, Mark choked on his drink, coughing fitfully.
"You can remember something you saw two weeks ago," Red grumbled, "but not what you did two nights ago?"
Abruptly sitting upright, ready to argue his point, Francis realized he actually couldn't remember what he did two nights previously. "I'm not on trial here!"
"It's only a matter of time," Liz frowned critically, returning her attention to Red. "I'm your fiancé..." she pouted. "We aren't supposed to have secrets from one another."
"Do you want them sending people to kill us?" Red muttered.
"Like that doesn't happen on a weekly basis." Liz grumbled. "And when did you start giving a damn about withholding classified intel?" she whispered.
"When did you start wishing I would divulge classified intel?" Red countered.
Red's eyes glittered with amusement when the woman's pout deepened and she looked petulantly away.
Finishing the last of his cigarette, Red inhaled deeply, feeling the nicotine calm finally settle over him.
Of course, it had taken combined effort of three cigarettes, Francis' inimitable sense of humor, his associates staunch support, and Lizzy back in good spirits... to do the trick.
He felt more calm and clear-headed than he did an hour ago.
Handed her coffee, Liz smiled happily at the server. "They're gonna write songs about you, my dear man."
The man smiled back, taking his leave.
"Oh, speaking of which," Liz sought Mark Donovan out. "I don't think it's right to let that man go... the one who inadvertently allowed the dick head into my room, I mean."
"Now, Elizabeth," Mark took a firm stance.
"No, you listen," Liz interrupted, laying out her line of reasoning she discussed earlier with Dembe. "I believe if you retrain them to handle such situations, there will be no longer be any issue."
Mark debated his opinion. "That does not excuse–"
"You instruct your people to keep us happy... that is all the employee was doing." Liz reminded. "It's clearly your fault for not implementing guidelines." she argued.
Red's tone was a gentle one. "...Lizzy," he scolded.
Mark held up his hand. "No... she's right. There's a flaw in my structure. One that I missed." he admitted. "But easily rectified. It's my job to do just that." he shrugged.
"Thank you, Mark, and next time... don't feel you have to check with him." Liz jerked a thumb Red's way, "before you placate me."
"Not placating. It's a solid point taken." Mark replied. "But just so you know, always gonna check with Red... so he doesn't kill me."
Liz gave up the fight, returning to her coffee. "Whatever." she resigned.
Ushering Lizzy back to their rooms, Red changed into more casual clothing as the temperature was rising... and he still had yet to meet with Daniel, whom, he was told, was still in the stables.
"Sweetheart, I feel like hell about this, but I have some quick business to attend to," Red grabbed his key card, slipping it in his back pocket, "so if you go anywhere... please take Matthew with you."
"Red, just go about your day... nothing has changed." Liz suggested.
"Still, I hate to leave you alone," the man grimaced, "my instincts are telling me–"
"I have fifty guards gawking at me from every possible direction," she chuckled. "I think I'll be okay."
"I can call Francis." Red would feel better.
"And take him away from his blue blow-up alien chick?" she muttered, settling in on the couch. "Perish the thought."
Bracing his arms on either side of the woman's body, Red leaned to kiss her mouth gently. "He could bring her... he would love for you to watch... if not record it."
Chuckling, Liz offered a smiling grimace, "As titillating as that sounds... I'm just gonna pass on that one." she picked up her book, smiling as Red adjusted the throw over her legs. "You'll let me know when you're finished?"
"I will." he murmured, kissing her soft lips. "Be good..." he winked, opening the door.
Grasping a chair in passing, Red set it in the hall, securing the door behind him.
"Dembe should be here soon." Red handed a card to Matthew. "If you need either of us for any reason, here are our numbers."
"Yes, sir." Matthew stuck the card in his shirt pocket before taking his previous guard stance.
"Sit, Matthew." Red pointed to the available seat, smiling. "I won't think less of you, especially when you're doing me a great favor."
Settling back into the cushions, Liz flicked through the pages... a frown overtaking her face, for the book seemed familiar. She looked at the jacket cover, sighing. No wonder she had read it their first couple days here.
Looking over the novels laying on the tabletop, her frown increased, for those looked familiar as well.
Tossing the throw aside, she looked through her bags... unable to find the book she began reading the day before.
"It must be in the other room," she murmured to herself.
Come to think of it, she didn't have her watch or wallet either. They must still be in her bedside table.
From what she understood, staff quickly gathered their essentials, most likely leaving some items behind in their haste. Making her way to the closet, she rounded the corner... finding the safe was open and ready for use. She gasped, realization hitting full force.
All her jewels and Red's cash were still in the other safe. The thought of her jewelry, so far away, panicked her.
Grabbing the needed keycards, she opened the door to find Matthew on-guard.
"Do you need something, Miss?" the man asked politely.
"Uh, yeah, it seems they left some of my things behind in the other room." she gestured down the hall. "I need to go there and get them. I desperately need to do that, Matthew."
Drumming his fingers against his thigh, Matthew weighed his options. While he had participated in the games days previous and got along with the woman very well... he didn't know her.
Perhaps all she wished was to gather their personal property. Or... she was the type who wished to lose their shadow, believing them to be an intrusion into personal space.
As Mr. Reddington had not provided approved or denied activities, Matthew was at an impasse.
From what he recalled, Reddington's old room was just a quick jaunt down the hall. Shouldn't take them more than a few minutes.
Waving her forward, the man pulled the door closed, ensuring the latch caught before gesturing to proceed him.
"I hope the key still works." Liz chattered to fill the silence. "I don't have my wallet or watch. I wonder what else they might have forgotten..." she grimaced, for the statement sounded snooty. "Oh, not that I expected the entire suite be... I only meant..."
Sighing her frustration, she smiled wanly. She was so comfortable with her guys and Silas being able to decipher what she said automatically; she wasn't sure how to act with this man.
"I understand, Miss." Matthew smiled kindly. In just a few words, Elizabeth told him everything he needed to know.
She was a friendly person, familiar with her own guards... and wouldn't make trouble for him.
"Please, call me Liz." she wrinkled her nose. "I'm still getting used to this," she admitted, waving her hand around at the opulence.
"It certainly isn't the Hilton, is it." he teased knowingly, remembering those days himself.
"No, it sure isn't." she laughed, giving the keycard to the guard.
Opening the door, Matthew quickly scanned the room, waving her inside. Giving the hallway a cursory glance, he secured the door behind them.
Quickly scouring the living space, Liz grabbed Red's satchel and books, along with her own, sitting them by the door.
Walking to the bedroom, she hesitated, an unexpected uneasiness overtaking over her.
"I'm here," Matthew reminded gently, sensing the problem. "You're fine." he assured.
Liz cleared her throat self-consciously. "Sorry, I'm dawdling, aren't I?"
"Take all the time you need." Matthew offered encouragement. "Would you like me to go first?" he suggested.
"Yes...okay," she smiled weakly, unsure why this odd feeling suddenly became so prevalent.
Pushing the door aside, Matthew's brows lifted, surprised to find how badly in shambles the room appeared.
Startling at the man's side, Liz gaped at the damage. She knew in her fight; she had possibly broken a few decorative pieces... but this was astounding.
"We should go," Matthew sensed the woman's unease and shock.
"No," she murmured quietly, "no, I'm..." she blew a controlled breath through pursed lips. "I'm fine. Let me just.. I'll make a quick sweep."
Moving alongside the woman, Matthew gestured her along... an urgent need to vacate the area tickling his psyche.
Hurriedly opening the bedside table, Liz hastily grabbed Red's reading glasses, hooking them on her shirt.
Making her way to the other side, she studiously ignored the crunching sound of glass under her feet.
Making a sweep of the surrounding drawers, she grabbed her watch, wallet and other little necessities before retreating to the closet.
"Matthew," she turned, finding the man at the opened doorway, "oh... I can't reach that," she motioned to a box on an overhead shelf, "can you?"
As the man took care of the tall shelves, Liz took the drawers and dropped her loot to the low table top.
"Dammit, I should have brought a bag," she didn't know why she hadn't thought to bring one.
"I think I might have an idea," Matthew stepped out, leaving Liz to handle the safe.
Inputting the code, she waited for the responding beep and click of the door opening.
Coming around the corner, Matthew held up his offering, shrugging. "Will this do, for now?"
"Yes, thank you, Matthew." she smiled, quickly removing the contents, stuffing them in the pillow case without hesitation. "A quick check of the bathroom and I'm finished."
Finding just a few stray items and her bathing suit, she stuffed them in the decorative bathroom basket, walking out without a backward glance.
"Okay, I got it all." she held her loot aloft, the smile falling from her face as she neared the carnage surrounding her.
"We should go, Liz." Matthew gently coaxed.
"Do you know?" she asked softly. "Anything of what went down here?"
"No, I was not here for," the man trailed off, "... I'm not sure of the circumstances. Michael told me a few details, after the fact."
Liz fell silent, still surveying the carnage caused during the night from hell.
"All that matters is that you are safe." Matthew said. "What ever Mr. Reddington did to ensure that, was for your protection. It's over."
"Yes," Liz nodded once, then more emphatically, "yes, you're right." she turned away, grabbing her things before leaving the room with Matthew, a steady presence at her side.
Entering the stables, Red walked down the long corridor to the stall he'd been told he could find Daniel Courtland.
Glancing around the sliding door, Red found the man saddling a beautiful chestnut thoroughbred, so rich in color, the healthy coat almost appeared to shimmer black.
The massive animal pranced and snuffled, more than ready to venture out and explore the grounds.
"You're offending the horses..." Danny motioned to Red's fedora, handing the man a hat.
Taking the offering, Red arched a curious brow.
Danny smirked his amusement. "Saw that one and thought of you."
Turning the black cowboy hat in his hands, Red nodded after a moment's hesitation. It was nice, outstanding quality... expensive.
"Where'd you really get it?" Red smiled, settling the smooth felt in place, finding it a perfect fit.
"Beat the shit out of some guy the other night at the bar." Danny grinned. "Seemed like a waste to get rid of it." he drew his horse close, checking its bridle. "It's been cleaned." the man assured with a wry grin.
"Well, thank you for this most dubious gift." Red fingered the wide brim, tipping it.
"Think nothing of it, partner," Danny chortled.
Checking the saddle rigging, Red adjusted it to his specification.
"I saddled that myself, you know." the large man stated, watching the process with a wry look.
"Yes, I know... which is why I'm double checking it." Red laughed brightly.
"You don't trust me? I'm devastated." Danny asked. Placing his foot in the stirrup, he pushed upright, swinging his leg over the massive animal.
"You'll live, I'm sure." Red chided. "Besides, I was a distrustful child."
"Still are, apparently." Daniel laughed.
"I'm proud of that fact." Red quipped.
All things considered, in reality, Red had a decent childhood, if he said so himself. While his father may have been a prick, his mother more than made up for that fact being a nurturing, loving mother.
His thoughts fell to Lizzy... and Francis, who on the other hand...
It hurt to think the same privilege were not bestowed on Lizzy or Francis. He knew, of course, the people who took Lizzy and Francis in thought of them as their own children and provided a wonderful life for them.
What bothered him was they knew of the dark, tragic period in their young lives and had to live with those disturbing fragments.
Hooking his foot in the stirrup, Red easily mounted the horse, seating himself on the unexpectedly comfortable saddle. Gently pulling the reins, he walked the horse from the stable, Danny trailing behind.
Bringing the horses to a trot, they cleared a few acres to an area offering shade... and more importantly, privacy.
"Have you made any headway?" Red asked of his companion, allowing the horse to graze on the sweet grass.
"I've hit on about sixteen names so far," Danny got down to business. "I don't understand why you're wishing to speak to them individually though." the man confessed. "You could just post a bulletin on the dark web that says the fucker's dead."
"I need to know how to get in touch with Carver." Red looked out over the expanse field, his features expressionless.
Grimacing, Danny scowled at the man. "Now what in the hell do you want with that scum?" he wanted to know. "It's not like you to dig at the bottom of a barrel for a... specialist."
"This goes no further than here, Danny." Red adjusted in his seat, turning to look at the man straight on. "Francis doesn't even know."
"You know I'll keep quiet." the large man vowed.
"Carver attacked Elizabeth at home while I was away." Red related the incident, his tone hard.
"What?" Daniel sat forward in his saddle, listening intently. "Why would he–"
"That's why I want to find him." Red sighed, rubbing his suddenly aching neck. "I want to know what the threat is...before I kill him. If he's out for me... why did he attack her?"
"You've got a couple dozen bounties on your head. It only stands to reason Carver would jump at the chance for the quick payday... right?" Danny questioned. "Why would you think otherwise?"
"It goes beyond that... I feel it." Sighing, Red's jaw pulsed erratically. "If you didn't pick up on it, Elizabeth is divorced."
Daniel's brows lifted, understanding the insinuation. "You think Liz's bastard ex-husband could have hired Carver?" he scowled darkly. "What the hell, man. Talk about bad break-ups, shit."
"It's come to light recently, Tom broadcast Elizabeth's picture to the underground," Red gripped the reins tights, the desire to kill Tom more prevalent than ever. "Blamed his actions on me, of course."
"How the hell was his dumbass move your fault?" Daniel couldn't wrap his head around such stupidity.
"Basically, it was a reminder of the danger I put her in," Red sighed; the stupidity of such skewed reasoning was beyond understanding. But wasn't he guilty of thinking along the same lines?
"So we're dealing with a psychopath," Danny stated a fact. "Even if he had hired Carver, it doesn't mean he hired him to kill Liz... but you. The guy doesn't sound like your biggest fan."
"Be that as it may," Red agreed, "the fact is, Carver attacked Elizabeth... and I want to know with absolute certainty where the threat originated."
"You have my full resources at your disposal." Daniel assured. "Now, tell me about Liz, she seems a different breed." the man grinned, hoping to lighten the mood. "Pardon me for saying, but she doesn't seem the usual... high-maintenance companion you frequent."
"How can I possibly describe sunshine?" Red arched a teasing brow. "The woman is the light of my life."
"You're not going to break off into a sonnet reading, are you?" Daniel shifted knowing eyes Red's way. "I swear to God, if you sing that fucking song, I'll–"
"Fear not." the man grinned. "It's not quite that bad... I hope."
Traveling a meandering path, Red confided how he met Elizabeth, or at least the story they concocted, before he related how they came to be... more.
"So you've been engaged a while then, huh?" Daniel snorted. "You know, I heard through the grapevine, Madeline still has a thing for you. What happened there?"
Red grinned slowly. "Madeline is pissed at me right now." he corrected any assumptions.
"So what else is new." Danny scoffed.
"More than normal, lets just put it another way." Red shrugged, confusing Danny all the more. "She wouldn't piss on me if I was on fire."
"I hate when gossips screw up the best stories." Danny grumbled his disappointment.
"Oh, don't tell me Francis didn't share our dalliances in Las Vegas." Red chuckled.
"What?!" Daniel prodded, openly fishing for the gory details of any entertaining tale.
"Natalia..." Red's grin widened.
"What about her?" Daniel bitched, searching his memory for recent new of Vegas. "Oh... damn!" he whistled, thinking he'd hit on it. "Cat fight of the century?"
The man checked with Red, cursing his bad luck. "Son-of-a-bitch! I miss all the good shit."
"I enjoyed it immensely." Red laughed.
"I'll just bet you did," the cowboy chortled. "Who won? God, please don't tell me someone interfered before the finale."
"Silas?" Red's voice lifted in disbelief. "Get real..." he scoffed.
"You got Silas on her?" the man nodded his approval. "Yeah, knowing him, he had money on the outcome."
"He made a good show of intervening," Red remembered. "Not that Lizzy needed him."
"Kicked Natalia's ass, did she?" Danny allowed his admiration. "Not bad," he nodded his approval. "I remember Natalia being a worthy adversary."
"Yes, well," Red's eyes twinkled. "Elizabeth can be... disquieting if she wants."
"I'm sorry I missed it," the man was, very much so. "Damn, damn... damn!"
"Francis recorded the altercation," Red readily offered the information, proud of Lizzy's accomplishments.
"I should have known," Danny knew better. "I'll have to find him later and witness this ass beating for myself."
"When you do," Red snapped his fingers, "forward it to me... I don't have a copy."
"Whatever the outcome," Danny laughed for Red's appreciation of his lady's talent, "I can't imagine Maddie or Natalia will beg off graciously."
"Elizabeth can handle it...graciously, I'm sure," Red was positive. "Besides, I don't want them.. I want Lizzy."
"You've always enjoyed a little excitement in your life," Daniel grinned. "Sounds like you got it."
"In more ways than one, I'm afraid." Red granted. "We've got that in spades these days."
"How is Liz doing?" Daniel sobered, moving the conversation forward.
"Last night she hit a couple rough spots." Red admitted. "Today, she ripped into me and Mark." he smiled softly. "Things are getting back to normal... I believe."
While he enjoyed Lizzy's feisty attitude, he now wondered over her rapid fire emotions and if they meant anything.
Scoffing inwardly, Red shook his head minutely. If Lizzy's could hear his thought process now, she'd tell him he was profiling her...badly.
"You think something's wrong, don't you?" Daniel read the man's expression well enough.
"I don't know..." Red confessed his doubts.
"Are you worried Edward did more than he let on?" Daniel questioned. "Or that Liz is fooling herself, not facing issues she should."
"...Yes," Red said, a thought hitting him full force. "Maybe I should head that off at the pass. Excuse me a second." he pulled his phone free. "Mark, you still have that gazebo out by the..." he trailed off, "...yes, yes that one. Could you have the chef whip up a small picnic lunch?"
Falling silent once more, Red nodded his gratitude. "Thank you, Mark. I'll retrieve Elizabeth within the hour."
"Raymond Reddington, romantic. Bleh!" Daniel shivered mockingly. "If you start spouting poetry, I'm leaving your ass here."
"Would a dirty limerick suffice?" Red asked, pocketing his phone.
"Now you're talking my language..." the young man happily settled in for the long haul, briskly rubbing his hands together.
"There once was a man named Dave, who kept his dead whore in a cave..." Red glanced over to his riding partner. "Should I sing this?"