July 10th
Exiting the shower, Red wrapped a towel around his waist. Wiping the excess water from his face, he stared absently into the mirrored wall opposite the shower. He turned towards the sound of a muffled 'tap'.
Grabbing his robe, he crossed the needed space, tying the ends of the garment as he went. He opened the entrance to his suite expectantly. Mark and Francis waited patiently on the other side of the door.
Both men were casually dressed, Francis more so than Mark. The boy was wearing gym shorts and a muscle t-shirt proclaiming, I'd Flex but I Really Like This Shirt.
"I see you guys dressed for the occasion." Red teased.
Mark glanced at his attire, a quizzical look on his face because he wore a Polo shirt and dark slacks. He then checked with his companion, comprehending Red's remark.
"I made him change," Mark motioned, "the other shirt had a big ass picture of semen on it, that suggested Vegans also needed protein."
Both held an amused smirk which bespoke of a camaraderie shared.
"Yeah, that's classy, Francis." Red sighed mentally.
"I thought so." Francis readily agreed.
"Anyway," Mark clapped his hands together cheerfully, "there's still time to make a bolt for the Riviera." he joked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Francis and I can cover for you."
"Only way I would bolt would be if my bride is by my side and yeah," Red nodded musingly, "the Riviera sounds like a spectacular place to take her for our honeymoon."
"Told you it was a waste of time." Francis rolled placid eyes. "He's hooked. Line and sinker."
"Don't say we didn't give you a chance." Mark jested.
Red glanced between the two men. "Are you two just here to irritate me or is there some pressing reason you keep me from my appointed rounds, this of all days."
Mark waved off any concern. "We're here to take you down for a shave, maybe a massage..." He shared the real reason for their visit. "Get rid of some excess nerves maybe?"
"Manscaping, if need be." Francis grimaced slightly. "We haven't seen you naked of late. Do you need some updating? Tonight isn't going to be just any old night, remember. We want you ship-shape for Elizabeth, don't we...in all departments."
Mark sighed heavily. "Or...I was going to say it better." He sent Francis a look. "Dembe said we were to come to ask if there is any way we can help you relax a bit before the show starts."
"A shave, a haircut?" Francis smiled tightly. "Seriously, you need anything waxed?"
"I'd like to pour hot wax over you along about now." Red snipped. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I was going to ask you what you thought about me getting my chest hair waxed." Francis frowned superficially. "But you seem a little snippy so..."
"If you wanted me to laugh at you." Red settled a bit. "Why not just say so."
"Women like that sort of thing, you know." Francis defended himself.
"If they are eighteen." Mark scoffed.
"Well, Missy has talked of nothing else since she came back from that damned strip club." Francis moped. "About how all the men looked so hot and streamlined."
Red eyed the boy critically. "Oh." He began to see the problem now. His tone softened. "Most women like chest hair, Francis. It's considered a virile asset on a man." It had been Red's experience at least. "It's a personal choice, of course."
Red stepped back, allowing their entrance into his domain. "I'll finish dressing. It sounds like a plan. I do need a shave." He turned to motion the men to take seats, to make themselves at home.
Francis was staring intently.
Red glanced down his person. "What?" He demanded.
"What?" Francis returned blankly.
"You're staring!" Red once again checked his person.
Francis blinked. "Oh, no I just..." The kid stepped closer, peering hard at Red's face. "How do you get your beard to grow like that?"
"It's called testosterone." Red quipped. "You have a beard, Francis."
The man ran his hand over his clean-shaven face. "Not like yours." he grumbled.
Red exchanged glances with Mark. The other man lifted his brows alerting Red to a situation which was developing. The look said, Francis was in need of a morale boost. Red could guess the why of it all.
"I have an idea." Red stated brightly. "Why don't we go down, all of us...and get a shave. It will relax the hell out of us. Ever had one, Francis? By a professional?"
"No guy is going get a blade around my neck." The boy scoffed at such a notion.
"I'll be there the whole time." Red clasped his hand on Francis' shoulder. "I think it's an experience you will grow to love. Give it a chance."
Francis cut doubtful eyes the guy's way. "It's a blade...really close to my jugular."
"Don't you trust me?" Red put it on a personal level. "To be there for you?"
"I already shaved." Francis hedged.
"Really?" It was Red's turn to peer closely. "Well, don't want to rain on your parade, but I think you need another go."
Mark held his smile for he could sense Red's ploy. He enjoyed Francis' stunned expression.
"Yeah?" The kid was astounded by the news presented.
"Hell, yeah." Red lied artfully. "You show up looking that scruffy and Lizzy will take you to task, just saying."
"I look scruffy? Really?" Francis was dumbfounded, delightfully so.
"I didn't want to say anything." Mark played along. "But yeah, I think you better listen to Red."
"Wow." Francis' mood was clearly better. "Well, sure. If you guys think I really need it. I don't want to let Liz down."
"Give me a few seconds." Red nodded. "I'll be right with you guys."
"I'm gonna raid your mini-fridge." Francis called out as Red crossed the carpeted space.
"I know, Francis." Red took the news for granted.
Lizzington
"Have there been any problems concerning the arrangements I should know about?" He called out to the waiting men, selecting a casual slacks and shirt outfit. He had plenty of time to dress later on in the formal wear laid out for him.
"Everything is running like clockwork." Mark replied. "You have more money than God. What did you expect to go wrong?"
"That platinum card sure opens doors." Francis stated around a mouth full of cashews. "I want one of those puppies."
"So, Lizzy isn't stressed or...anything?" Red came out of the back, his expression an expectant one. "And Francis...it's a titanium card. Titanium." He corrected placidly. He sat down on the couch to put on his shoes.
"Isn't that what felled Superman?" Francis asked, a serious expression on his handsome face.
"Kryptonite, idiot." Mark reminded. "Kryptonite."
"You're making that shit up." Francis disgusted, returning to the matter at hand. "Are you asking, is Liz getting cold feet?" he found the thought amusing. "What woman wouldn't want to marry a platinum card holder?"
"Titanium." Red snapped. "Which Lizzy still has." The man mused absently.
"I think," Mark shook his head woefully, "now would be a good time to remind Red just how much Liz loves him. How special their bond is. How much she is looking forward to becoming Mrs. Red Reddington."
"Yeah, right. Okay." Francis was game. "Are we ready?" He sought both individuals. "I gotta get this scruff off."
Red slipped into his shoes, seeking out Mark. "So, everything is good."
"Are you gonna drink this orange juice?" Francis inquired lackadaisically, holding the bottle aloft.
Shooting the man an annoyed glare, Red arose, pulling his shirt front down. "Close the fridge door, Francis, and no. Take it."
"Last time I checked, the ladies were drinking champagne and giggling like schoolgirls the night before a prom." Mark relayed pertinent information. "They just got back from..." He shut the hell up suddenly. "Well, everything is fine. Trust me."
"Got back?" Red picked up on the slip. "From where?"
"She had a last-minute item to attend to." Mark snarked. "You don't have to know everything. Dembe warned me about you, you know."
Narrowing his eyes at the man, Red let it go for now, for Mark seemed in a playful mood... so obviously nothing dire had occurred.
"Did she need me to do anything?" Red asked hesitantly. "I kinda feel like a fifth wheel on this outing, to tell you the truth."
"Shit." Mark hit his forehead with his palm. "There is something. I totally forgot."
Grabbing his phone and lighter, Red waited patiently, perking up a bit.
Mark cast a hapless glance Francis' way. The young man picked up on the 'SOS' signal. It was a guy thing.
"Oh...yeah, man. Hey, Liz wanted to know if you got Dembe's best man gift yet."
"Of course, I did." Red was surprised by the question. "She knows I wouldn't forget something that important...doesn't she?"
"Yeah." Mark jumped on the bandwagon. Truth was, the assignment he was about to pass on, was detailed to Francis and himself but if it would make Red feel more a part of things. "Yeah, of course she does. She's just checking all boxes right now, ya know?
"What'd ya get him?" Francis snooped gleefully.
"The Ducati, what else." Red exasperated. "He's been wanting one for a while now."
"Oh, man!" Francis was envious. "Well, at least it wasn't a platinum card." He philosophized. "I can live with a Ducati. After all, if I really wanted one, I could buy it myself."
"More fun if someone else pays the price though." Mark chuckled.
"Red would buy me one, wouldn't you Red?" The kid seemed anxious to hear the reply.
"Sure kid." Red shrugged. "I'd buy you two...if you really needed them."
"See?" Francis preened his importance.
"And one other thing." Mark passed off the task Susan had told him to handle. "No one thought to get Amanda's gift. Do you believe it? Liz felt horrible but...if you could somehow."
"Oh, hell yeah." Red waved a dismissive hand. "In the bag. No problem. We'll stop at the shops before the shaves."
Red seemed in infinite better spirits both men were glad to note.
"It would really help Liz out." Mark smiled sincerely.
"Tell Lizzy I'll take care of it." Red hastily offered, more than happy to handle something of importance.
"She did say to remind you of one other thing." Mark's smile widened.
"What did she need?" Red asked, ready to handle anything thrown his way.
"She said to remind you to...show the hell up." Mark clapped the man on the shoulder good-naturedly. "She said to tell you...she knows where you live."
Lizzington
"You spent enough." Francis grumbled. "Will I have to be this generous if I ever throw a wedding party?"
"Firstly, you don't throw a wedding party." Mark explained patiently. "You get married because you have fallen in love with some unfortunate woman. But no. Red is being exceptionally generous to everyone involved."
"Not at all." Red disagreed. "The ladies have made this a wonderful day for my Lizzy." He beamed. "It's the least I could do to show my appreciation."
Walking briskly down the corridor, Red stiffened, stopping in his tracks. His companions halted, both men reaching for their back waist simultaneously.
"No." Red waylaid the gesture. "Is it bad luck to see the bride even now?"
"If you mean now, before the wedding." Mark emphasized. "Then yes, as it still is, before the wedding."
"Elizabeth is somewhere nearby." Red backed up, but realized, he didn't know in what direction he should make his escape. The corridors all connected from any different angle here. "I don't want to take any damned chances today of all days."
Mark motioned. Francis went to the rear, checking the hallways. Mark booked it down the way they were headed. He pulled up short, giving Red an amazed look. "You called it." The guy disappeared for a second.
"Whoa, there!" Mark held up a staying hand for the bridal party was about five meters down the way, coming through a private doorway.
The guy quickly explained the situation. "Give us a few seconds. We'll get the hell on down the way."
"Is Red out there?"
The man himself perked up, straightening hastily at the recognized voice. "Lizzy." He whispered the name.
"Go." Francis pushed on Red's shoulder, shoving him into another corridor. "This way is clear."
Red's disappointment was acute. "Dammit, Francis. I haven't seen her in..."
"And who was just saying, he wasn't going to take any damned chances today of all days?" Francis continued his efforts.
Red relented.
"Red?" The excitement in Liz's voice made the man smile.
A chorus of voices vetoed any communication. Red cursed the interference but...in the end. "Just a few hours more, baby." He called out over the ruckus and uproar. "I can't fucking wait."
The silence came with an almost hushed reverence.
Never had Red felt such pure contentment. It washed over him like a thick, loving blanket.
Lizzy was going to marry him. In just a few hours. Today!
"I'm so nervous, Red." The small voice called out. "I want to see you so badly."
"I know, baby." He smiled gently. "I...know." He whispered, feeling the moment acutely. "You be a good girl." He lifted his voice the deep resonance soothing Lizzy's frayed nerves. "Lizzy...I can smell your perfume."
Mark dropped his head. Puzzle solved. That was how the man had known his woman was just around the corner.
"It's the sweetest scent in the entire world." Red had the perfume especially created for her when he was in Dubai. No one in the Universe could claim that scent except Lizzy.
"Don't you even make her cry, Red Reddington!" Susan's tone was no-nonsense. "We have spent two hours on her make-up!"
Red chuckled. "I'm going." He relented. He didn't want anything to spoil one second of this day for Elizabeth. "...I'm going."
"I was just here, Red." Liz wistfully called out. "What lousy timing. We could have met up."
"We'll meet up again," Red returned the sentiment, "in a short while... I promise."
The men headed away from the section, Red's mood heightened tremendously by the chance encounter.
Mark guided him down this passageway and that, but it all blurred to Red. He followed docilely, his musings personal and private ones. We could have met up. How long had it been since he had seen the woman.
God, it felt like years!
"You can stop smiling now." Mark pulled up short, teasing his friend. "Gotta put on that tough guy persona. Don't want your enemies to see how soft you get around a dame."
Red chuckled. "I can't believe...she said, yes."
"Well, she did." Francis smiled. "She loves you, man."
"Not your titanium card." Mark echoed the sentiment. "You. Red Reddington." The guy's eyes were soft. "You got to her somehow. And that's all that matters. Isn't it."
Red smiled again. "I guess it is."
"Come on." Mark motioned with his head to the shop just to their right. "Take a breather. Get your head straight. You want to put your best foot forward...for Liz. It's important."
Red nodded. "It is." He lifted his countenance. "Come on, Francis. I'll show you how to relax. This guy will have you purring like the proverbial kitten in no time at all."
"But, you won't blink, right?" Francis balked slightly. "You'll keep your eyes on that blade at all times."
"I've got it covered." Red guided the boy forward. "Put your trust in me."
"I always have." Francis scowled his confusion. "Why would today be any different?" It was asked. "I know when you razz me, it's just your way of saying, you appreciate my talents. That you accept me as part of your world."
Red blinked, surprised by the boy's insight.
"You're using reverse psychology. I know about that jazz." Francis smirked. "I watch Dr. Phil. But I do trust you. With my life."
Red was touched by the statement, more than he liked to admit. "You're right." He conceded quietly. "I do accept you. You're actually my favorite out of all the boys."
"Dembe's your favorite." Francis shook his head. "But I'm right up there."
"Right at the top, kid." Red nodded.
Francis' brow furrowed suspiciously, his eyes narrowing.
This was Red's cue to use some of that reverse psychology, he sensed. "...Why, is anyone's guess."
The kid was happy again, losing his mood. "Cause I'm cool."
Mark chuckled. "And modest."
Half hour later, Red's mood was mellowed out. Tranquility was the order of the day. He hadn't realized how much he had needed this small respite until just now.
Mark was finishing up in the chair. The man had volunteered to go first to put Francis more at ease. Pierce, the barber was attentive, taking special care. He had found Francis' attitude amusing, Red knew.
He took the time to explain each step he would take before actually taking it. "Most of the ladies enjoy lavender." He was lifting the bottle to show his wares. "This soothes the skin. Makes it more supple."
"What does Red use?" Francis wanted to know.
"Mr. Reddington prefers sandalwood." Pierce knew. "A very manly scent. An excellent choice."
Francis sat down next to the little blonde who was working on Red's manicure. "Do you like sandalwood?"
"It's very nice." She smiled pleasantly. "It smells heavenly."
"You smell pretty good too." Francis had noted. Red shifted an interested stare. "Do you think I should wax my chest."
The woman swept Francis' frame with open interest. "...No." She resumed her duties, but a secretive smile played around her full mouth.
Francis' face broke out into a smile.
Red tried to hide his. "This is nice." He decided. Missy's influence was falling aside. Francis' self-doubts were doing the same. The boy was reaching out in his own way, feeling the vibes, as Francis would say. "We should do this more often."
"What's your name?" Francis prodded.
"Bonnie."
Francis smiled, and Bonnie smiled right back. "It's a pretty name."
Bonnie massaged Red's fingers. He hadn't realized just how much tension was within his body until the woman's expertise took it away.
"That's kinda...weird, isn't it?" Francis had motioned to the woman's pastime.
"Not at all." Bonnie replied. "A woman appreciates a man who keeps his hands nice. Especially in those intimate moments." She referred to the manicure. "And the massage? Just a little perk to help a guy feel at his best."
"Intimate moments, you say." Francis was a like a sieve, taking in any and all knowledge today.
"That's what I said." Bonnie lifted those green eyes, meeting Francis' stare with frank appraisal.
"I like you." Francis decided.
Bonnie clearly had no problem with that admission.
"Red, does Liz like your chest the way it is." Francis was suddenly all ears.
"I can't believe I'm having this conversation." Red murmured but answered obediently. "I think she does." Hadn't the woman once called the soft pelt on his torso, her security blanket?
The memory made Red smile.
"Are you sure about that waxing thing, though." Francis wanted to make sure, checking once again with the woman. He glanced down his shirt front, a critical look on his face. He lifted a sincere stare. "This stuff is pretty disgustingly long."
"Let me see." Bonnie leaned, peeking down into the dark fluff. "...Looks fine to me." She shifted a riveted gaze.
Francis tugged on a wiry strand, squeaking abruptly at the unexpected pain.
"You smell good." Bonnie ignored the faux pas. "Even without the sandalwood."
Francis' mouth went slack as he stared vacantly into those green orbs staring so intently back.
"His vocabulary is limited, yes, but he does have one." Red teased, brightening Bonnie's smile, "and the ability to stand upright..." he sighed opening weary eyes. "We are very proud of his accomplishments to date. Believe it or not."
"He really likes me. It's all very psycho-oriented." Francis explained the way of things.
Red looked to Bonnie for a woman's opinion. "Emphasis on the psycho part."
Bonnie pinched her lips tightly to withhold her giggle of amusement. "I think he's adorable."
"I think he's adorable too." Red waved his free hand. "Bonnie, is there any way you could help my friend become more acceptable to the female persuasion...in the looks department, at least?"
"I think he's just fine in all departments, but my friend could give him a quick trim." It was suggested. "If you are really serious, I mean." She held up a scolding hand. "Not that you need it, now."
Francis began pulling his shirt overhead immediately.
Bonnie held up staying a hand this time. "It's usually done...in the back?"
"Oh, Francis isn't shy." Mark was tipping Pierce, having listened for a while to the ensuing conversation. "Are you, Francis."
Francis looked confused over the question.
Bonnie snickered, rubbing warmed oil into Red's thick skin. "I will see if Karen is available."
A short time later, both men were finished with their respective treatments.
"Thank you, ladies." Red offered his most sincere gratitude for their work... and patience.
"Hey, I look bulkier." Francis preened in the mirror, flexing his muscles this way and that.
Tipping the woman generously, Red cut woeful eyes towards Francis. He noted both young ladies seemed to appreciate the boy's finer qualities.
It was good for Francis' ego, all this attention. Apparently, he hadn't been getting too much from Missy of late. Or it was of the wrong type.
Bonnie discretely folded the bills, shoving them in her smock. "Thank you, sir. I will let Pierce know you're ready for him." She offered Francis a soft smile.
"Thank you, Bonnie." Red nodded his thanks, his eyes saying so much more than his words. The young woman picked up on the fact, Red meant, for making his friend feel good about himself again. "Okay, Francis...take the chair."
Francis swallowed hard, his eyes fixated on the object. "You're the groom. Shouldn't you..."
"Pierce is superb at what he does." Red guided the kid over, seating Francis with a decided thud into the cushioned leather of the seat. "It won't kill you to shut the hell up for twenty minutes or so." Red motioned Pierce ahead with the procedure. "In ten minutes, your body will feel like it's died and gone to heaven."
"It's that dying part..." Francis grimaced slightly, his eyes on Pierce every single second.
Mark, Red and Pierce all chuckled appreciatively for the boy's wit. Mark and Red knew it wasn't exactly 'wit' talking, of course.
The first warm towel calmed Francis' nerves somewhat. "Ohh, my god." He relaxed visibly into the seat, his hands unclenching from the arm rests.
"Wait for it." Red grinned, enjoying the kid's reaction to the fullest. He watched Pierce smooth warm oil over Francis' face and neck.
The boy's head fell back, a long moan issuing from his throat. The same throat he was so worried about getting slit a few moments ago. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph." He sighed blissfully.
Mark grinned over at Red, both men sharing a smile.
"This is...amazing!" Francis melded to the chair, his body going lax.
Another hot towel was added to allow the oil to sooth and work its magic.
"Red?" Francis' muffled voice came in a hesitant manner. "Can I ask you something?"
Red found a vacant seat. "Is this about that Russian UFO you saw on Youtube?"
"No." Francis seemed to consider that subject however before moving past it. "It's kinda personal."
"You want I should leave?" Mark took the hint.
"No..." Francis waved the question aside. "It's...Missy."
Red waited patiently. Mark drew in a breath, exhaling slowly, settling in for the long haul.
"What with you and Liz...tying the knot and all, it's got me thinking." Francis dived in but his tone was awkward, undecided. "It's kinda nice, isn't it? To have just one woman...to maybe commit to? I mean, how do you know if you've found...the right one though?"
Red took his time in replying. "Francis, it's just something you will know." He found that statement lacking, though. "I knew Lizzy was right for me because...she has not once made it feel wrong." He grimaced. "I know that is vague."
"A woman can build your ass up to the heights of a mountain top, Francis or she can pull you down to the depths of hell." Mark added his outlook. "The latter type is the one you want to stay the hell away from, trust me. The other is as rare and precious as a... titanium card."
Red smiled softly. "When I'm with Lizzy, I feel...centered. Everything around me is brighter and hopeful and just...perfect." He was having trouble putting it into the right words, he knew. "There is no darkness or doubt. There's a lot of laughter and warmth and... serenity, I guess."
The silence was a comfortable one.
Pierce stood, leaning on the basin of his sink, his expression a mellow one as he listened to the ensuing conversation. He gently placed yet another towel on Francis' face.
"...I have some doubts." Francis only just realized, his voice quiet and low. "About...Missy."
Red wasn't surprised. "My advice, if you're asking...would be to move very slowly before any major decisions are made. You should have all the time you want or need. Things like this shouldn't be rushed."
"Get to really know a woman before you...take such a permanent step." Mark echoed the sentiment. "This is good for both people involved, you understand?"
"I want to be a stand-up guy." It was easier to say all this stuff with a towel obscuring a guy's face, Francis realized. "I want to maybe settle down. I think it's time."
"All well and good." Red nodded. "But again, there is no rush. You're young yet, and it's hard to navigate such a vast space without the right woman beside you to even out the ship when it's taking on water."
"That's a metaphor, Francis, for," Mark explained, "when the world is throwing shit at you, it's cool when the woman beside you will stand there and sling some of it back at whoever is trying to take your ass out."
Red shifted uncertain eyes.
"Is Missy gonna be there? Ask yourself." The man continued. "Or will she go over to the other side and help them out instead. In your heart...you know the answer. Don't you."
Francis fell silent. Pierce removed the towel, lathering up the young man's face. "Aw, man. My head is aching now."
"I know." Pierce smiled down at the kid. "Just relax. It will all sort itself out in the end." He worked diligently and, in a few minutes, the task was accomplished. "Take a few minutes." Another warm towel was applied. "You'd be surprised how much just a few seconds of silence will heal the soul."
Red nodded his gratitude to the man. Mark gave Pierce a thumb's up.
Minutes later, Red was shaking the kid awake.
Francis sat up, blinking languidly. "Man, did I fall asleep?"
"Told you it was relaxing." Red quipped. "But now, it's my turn, so move your ass out of that chair."
"That was great!" Francis grinned around his yawn.
"And your throat is still intact." Mark pointed out. "Even though you fell your ass asleep right under the blade."
"Red was here." Francis waved the issue aside. "A shave and power nap all in one?" he was impressed. "Why didn't you guys clue me in a long time ago?"
"We've been trying to clue you in for years, sonny boy." Mark lifted resigned brows. "On more things than a shave and power nap."
Red took his seat. He was looking forward to the next hour or so, he found.
"And remember, Francis." Mark was saying, a guiding hand on the man's shoulder. "You've only know Missy a little over a week now, yes?"
"It's been six days." Francis corrected. "Well, really... five and a half."
Red held his smile with great difficulty. Pierce jerked his head about, his look an incredulous one for the news related.
"I stand corrected." Mark muffled a long-suffering sigh.
"It feels longer." Francis shared.
"Yeah, but it hasn't been, so..." Mark smiled brightly, "just, you know, like Red said. Take it slow. No rush to make any major decisions. Everything will sort itself out, given time."
"Well, the nap helped clear my head." Francis made mention.
Red chuckled under his breath. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Francis. We all are, right Mark?"
"My world has fallen into place." Mark commiserated with his friend. Francis seemed very happy that his problem was taken seriously by all.
"You guys are good friends."
Pierce was still looking at the trio like they had just grown another head...each. Which made Red chuckle again. "I'm ready when you are, Pierce."
The guy moved about his business throwing occasional glances in Francis' way but otherwise, things proceeded as normal.
Lizzington
With little less than an hour to go before the wedding, Red looked over his suit with a critical eye.
His musings were interrupted. He turned, offering a smile of welcome to his friend.
"Ah...Dembe." he returned his attention to his mirrored image. "What do you think? Will I pass muster?"
"You look very debonair." The man was inspecting Raymond's attire with an even more critical eye, Red knew. "Your gifts were received well, by the way." The large black man's grin lit his face. "It was a very generous gesture. They were delightfully surprised."
"The selection was limited." Red remembered. "I hope they aren't just being kind."
With little time at his disposal, Red's only recourse was to hit Mark's jewelry store to purchase the last-minute gifts for Lizzy's friends.
Though he knew Amanda well enough, to be certain the diamond solitaire necklace with matching bracelet and earrings would be well received, he had to guess at the other women's preferences. He disliked 'guessing' at anything, let alone something so important.
He knew it wasn't necessary to gift anything, tradition did not call for such an action. It seemed so cold somehow, not to include all of Lizzy's friends in his show of gratitude. It was a special day. They had put their heart and soul into making it one Liz and he would cherish and remember for all days to come.
A scowl marred his face for a beat. "But Lizzy was happy with the choices." He needed confirmation.
"You will have to ask Silas...after he recovers from the shock." Dembe quipped. "When I left, he said his ears were still ringing from the shouts and squeals of joy which abounded from the ladies appreciation of...your choices."
Red glanced at the man's wry expression. "Said he knew how Quasimodo must have felt up in that tower."
Red smiled his pleasure. "That's good to hear."
"There was a small crisis but your timely gift to Elizabeth saved the hour." Dembe reported.
Red's face showed alarm.
"Something old...a lace handkerchief from Emma's grandmother's wedding." Dembe ticked off on his fingers. "Keeping in mind, I have all this information on the best of authority." He continued. "Your necklace filled the bill perfectly for the something new and the stones are sapphire, remember."
Red was fascinated by the unfolding tale. "Something blue." He grinned.
"Susan provided her mother's brooch for the something borrowed." Dembe completed his story with a smile of satisfaction.
"That was very kind of her to do." Red appreciated the gesture.
Red knew he would have a hell of a search on his hands, choosing a suitable wedding gift for someone as special as Lizzy. He wanted it just right, whatever he chose.
It was made especially difficult because, he was unaware what colors, or even the style of the dress she had picked for the wedding.
The moment the entourage left for Houston, he and couple hotel guards went on the hunt. His only stipulations were that the gift be delicate in nature and a complete set, if at all possible.
An hour, and four stores into Red's search... Hunter Gaines had called him with a very good prospect, or so it sounded over the phone.
Hurrying to the man's location, Red remembered how he smiled the moment he saw the sparkling gems gleaming up at him from their velvet lined perch.
It was everything he hoped for, and more.
Everything about the glittering jewels, from the color to the design, said it was made for Elizabeth... and her alone.
The diamonds and dark blue sapphires surrounded in platinum were reminiscent of the woman's sparkling, luminescent eyes.
Glittering leaves of brilliancy burst from the whimsical and delicate vine, very much reminding Red of how carefree and buoyant Lizzy had become since they began this journey.
If he were honest with himself, that's how the woman made him feel most days.
That the set was classic in style, which Lizzy preferred, and matched her wedding ring... was divine fate.
"Did you get her ring?" Red asked. Buttoning his vest, he turned his back to Dembe for much needed assistance. "Could you help with this damned..." he muttered his growing impatience.
Pulling the waist strap secure, Dembe patted Red's shoulder. "All set."
Smoothing his hands down the vest, Red sighed heavily, staring at his reflection with an unsatisfied grimace. He shrugged aimlessly, turning it over to more capable hands. He lifted his arms out, waiting for approval.
"It's good." Dembe smiled, pulling the ring out of his pocket, giving it to Red. "That took Silas a good ten minutes to wrestle from Liz's finger. He said, he demands combat pay."
Retrieving the ring Kate brought, Red laughed quietly at his friend's fanciful story.
Fitting the two pieces together, Red pushed the band against Lizzy's engagement ring until he felt a pronounced click. Holding the rings to the light, the platinum and diamonds and sapphires shimmered in the sun.
"You will be pleasantly surprised." Dembe watched the man search about for his shoes. "Elizabeth has purchased your ring while in Houston." The man patted the pocket on his attire where he had secured the rings.
"I bought one, thinking she wouldn't remember such a thing what with all she already had on her plate." Red was surprised, delightfully so. "I want to see it." He came forward but Dembe retreated, holding up a warning hand. "The one she bought."
"And you will," Dembe's hand closed over the pocket protectively, "...soon."
Narrowing his eyes, Red gave up the fight. "What's it like?" he asked, handing over Lizzy's rings to the man, watching him drop them into the same small pocket.
Dembe thought Elizabeth's choice was a good one. "You will like it."
Taking the tie Dembe held aloft, Red frowned slightly. "I would have thought Lizzy would have picked red," he smiled, looping it about his neck, "not... lilac." His breath caught, his eyes misting suddenly as something occurred.
Dembe, having missed Raymond's reaction, held out the man's boutonniere.
Red took the baby white rose and green sprig wrapped tightly amongst the soft purple forget-me-not flowers, a lump forming in his throat.
Baby purple...for his daughter...for Jennifer.
Red couldn't remember the last time he had been so touched by a gesture.
"Where did she get these?" he asked, softly tracing the small petals.
"We went to three different florists before she found what she wanted." Dembe said. "She hand-picked them herself."
Quietly finishing his tie, Red stood still as Dembe secured the sprig of flowers to his lapel.
"She is a very special woman, Raymond." Dembe spoke his opinion. "I know you are aware, but I hope you realize...others are just as aware of how fortunate you both are to have found each other."
Confused by his friend's sudden silence, Dembe wondered what was going on inside Raymond's head.
He couldn't be having second thoughts? Could he? The thought was more than upsetting suddenly. No, of course not. Dembe dismissed such a stupid assumption. He waited now, patiently, giving the other man time for quiet contemplation.
"Are you ready to head down now?" Dembe asked quietly.
Pulling his eyes away from the colors decorating his lapel, Red spun on his heels, heading for the door.
Looking after Raymond's hasty departure, Dembe dropped the tie clip in his hand, rushing after the retreating figure... a smile on his face.
"I've been waiting for those words all damn day." Red said. "Let's go."
Lizzington
Walking the halls, Red and Dembe fell in step, their formidable strides determined, but with a controlled power behind each movement.
Smiling cordially, Red offered handshakes to those delivering well-wishes or a sincere congratulations.
"Everyone is happy for you, Raymond." Dembe leaned to convey the obvious feelings of those gathered for such a special occasion.
Red nodded to a couple acquaintances, returning the genial smiles. "If only this good feeling would stay with everyone once outside these walls."
Aside from everyone being extremely pleasant, there was an electricity in the air... a certain frisson of excitement.
Apparently, he wasn't the only one looking forward to this wedding; though he couldn't fathom the why of it all.
Were the guests expecting something dramatic, or even disastrous, to unfold? Nothing better happen, not with all the damn security stalking the grounds. Not on this day of all days. No damned fucking way.
He settled such thoughts. Nothing was going to spoil it. He was just being stupid. Everything would go just fine.
Worst case scenario? Maybe everyone was taking bets to see if Lizzy wouldn't show at the altar. In his heart of hearts, Red admitted to a certain nervousness about that little scene unfolding. What if Lizzy came to her senses at the last moment?
He closed his eyes, willing such negativity aside. It was just last minute jitters. That's all it was.
Receiving another hearty back slap and congratulations as he passed a group of men, Red sought out his companion and friend.
"Why is everyone so happy?" Red asked suspiciously.
Chuckling quietly for his friend's wariness, Dembe grinned. "You do know your relationship with Elizabeth has fueled the gossip circles for the entire stay here at Mark's, right?"
"Last year it was whether or not Francis fathered Holly Madison's child after they both had attended that concert where everyone was passing out the 'red' acid shit." Red reminded. "So what?"
"That would have been 'Woodstock', Raymond." Dembe sighed heavily. "And it was 'blue' acid, I believe."
"Not if you were watching Wayne's World." Red countered, recalling how Dembe made him sit through the movie. "It was 'red-rope' licorice, smart ass."
"It's not everyday Raymond Reddington takes a bride." Dembe cut to the chase. "One of the most eligible bachelors around, lo these many years? And such a beautiful bride?"
"It's the fucking event of the year." Red couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Is that what you're trying to tell me? It's just me and Lizzy, Dembe." He stated plaintively. "Me and Lizzy."
"I am surprised someone isn't selling tickets." Dembe managed with a perfectly straight face.
Red cut his friend a startled look. "They aren't, are they?"
"Surprisingly, no," Dembe chuckled. "We could have made a killing though."
Casting the man beside him a scolding glance, Red felt a smile tug at his mouth, finally. "We would have been the one's being killed if Lizzy found out about it."
Dembe held his smile. "Unless it was the lady herself who was doing the selling."
"Cut it out." Red shook his head. "Silas would be the culprit, anyway. Who are we kidding."
Red hesitated in his steps, frowning hard. "He really has been a rock this past few days though." He realized the guard's contribution on so many levels to Lizzy. "I have to get him something."
"Set him up with what he really wants." Dembe suggested. "And doesn't even realize."
Red sought the guy out. "I'm all ears."
"Private time with Samar Navabi."
Red's mouth fell agape. "He's fighting it, is he?"
Dembe smiled slowly.
Red lowered his head, thinking it through. "Nah, it's easier just to get the titanium card."
Dembe's brow furrowed critically. "Get over the titanium card, Raymond, the card is lost to you...face facts."
Red's chuckle bubbled forth. He felt all his worries fade away to nothingness, standing here with his friend, sharing this quiet moment.
"I'm sorry, Dembe." Red patted the man's arm, squeezing it.
"What for?" Dembe said, confused by the apology.
"I haven't seen much of you this holiday, have I." Red's brow furrowed, bothered by the fact he neglected his best-friend.
"I wouldn't have had it any other way, Raymond." Dembe said, forestalling any further explanations. "You have looked forward to being with Elizabeth for so long." he said, his smile a gentle one. "You needed this time with her. I know that."
"Still," Red shook his head, "I should have–"
"Nothing will change our friendship," Dembe assuaged the man of all guilt, "we will always be brothers." his smiled brightened. "Today... our family grows."
"So you... approve?" Red wished for his friend's blessing, more than anything. "You accept Elizabeth into our family?"
"I wholeheartedly approve and welcome Elizabeth with open arms... as I do Francis." Dembe arched a tart brow.
Red's quiet chuckle trailed off, his expression sobering. "You will always be my family, Dembe."
"I know." Dembe dark eyes softened as he patted Raymond's arm, grasping it. "Now, we should go before the rest of that family sends out a search party."
Clasping Dembe's shoulder, Red nodded. "Yes, we should."
"Raymond." A soft, feminine voice called out from behind, just at that moment.
Turning about, Red immediately recognized the figure. "...Erica."
His scowl increased slightly for such an unexpected interruption. The woman stood, silhouetted in the archway to his left. She wore an elegant, powder blue cocktail dress, with scalloped hem and sleeves, covered in vintage lace. The slender hour glass creation hugged her curves in all the right places.
She really was a beautiful woman, the man had long since realized.
"A moment, Dembe." Red murmured, stepping to meet the slowly advancing female.
Inclining his head, Dembe headed further down the hall, but well within eyesight of Raymond.
"I know every one has been congratulating you all day," Erica took a deep breath as Red approached, "...but has anyone offered you an out as yet?"
"Erica..." Red sighed. The last thing he needed was...
"Hear me out." Erica's eyes pleaded her cause. "I just..." she swallowed, "no one has asked if you had any doubts or second thoughts? Have you asked yourself those questions even?"
Red held the woman's eyes, allowing her to say what she needed.
"I...I only ask because," she smiled wistfully. "I would want someone to care enough to ask me."
Red considered the difficulty it was taking for the woman to have approached at all.
"We could go, right now." She inhaled shakily. "Get on the jet and fly to Nevis... just the two of us."
Only last year, Red remembered giving Maddie a similar offer; granted he did have a hidden agenda, but even then, no harm would have come from spending a couple days with the woman.
Now, Erica had turned the tables, offering him much of the same.
"Have you ever done something so heinous that you could never forgive yourself?" The woman put it on an even more personal level, addressing the old wound between them."Something that affects your entire life from that moment onward?"
There was a newfound sadness about the woman Red had not noticed before.
"I don't want to come between a woman you have found if she is something you can accept for the rest of your life. I truly don't but...sometimes we make decisions for whatever reason that, at the time...seem acceptable." She lowered her eyes."I understand that now."
She closed those eyes for a long moment and Red felt an affinity with the woman. He had been there. He had made those horrible decisions that haunted the soul.
She forced a smile. "Ergo, I came to ask...a simple question." She lifted her head proudly. "I came as a friend, well...one that used to be." She smiled wanly.
"I thank you for that." He did. "But the decision to marry Elizabeth is the best thing that could ever happen to me."
Had it been a year ago... he may have taken Erica up on her offer.
But the invitation came a year too late... and for the wrong reasons.
What he and Erica had at one time had been comfortable, enchanting... even romantic. Even with the contentious way things ended, Red had moments he missed the woman tremendously.
Though he was sure there were certain aspects Erica missed as well, he didn't believe those moments were a driving force in her motives now. She was trying to correct a mistake that could never be corrected. Not in Red's world, at least.
He admired her efforts and he truly believed she was suffering a damnation he wouldn't wish on anyone of her caliber.
Erica was, and always would be, an opportunist, however. She saw a decent opportunity slipping away, and made a grab for it.
He did not fault her instincts, it was simply how the woman survived in the rat race. No harm in that.
While he was sure Erica remembered how well he treated her and showered her with affection; he honestly didn't believe she wished to be with him, not truly.
Erica would always be about the next business venture. The gain. No matter what she told herself. No matter how many demons plagued her soul.
And he...simply was not the same person she knew... not anymore.
If he had to choose between his work and Elizabeth, he would pick Elizabeth every time.
All the extravagant toys were nice, but cuddling with Lizzy at the end of the day, was what made every day worthwhile.
Erica held her breath as the man returned his attention. He smiled down at her.
Red reached, fingering a long tendril laying against her dress, brushing the errant lock over her shoulder.
"...I have no regrets." Red murmured softly. "None what-so-ever."
The woman's long lashes fluttered as she blinked rapidly, hiding her surprise... and disappointment.
"...Oh." her downcast eyes shifted restlessly.
"I thank you for checking on my welfare," Red softened the blow, if there was indeed one, "but I've realized what is essential to me...for my peace of mind. I have no intention of letting it slip away."
Leaning into the warm palm cupping her cheek, Erica squeezed her eyes tight against the threatening tears.
"I've come to realize," Red told the truth, "the most important aspect to living a good life is not a successful business deal, or a weekend of sex in a tropical paradise–"
Shaking her head, Erica lifted sorrowful eyes. "We could be more than that."
"We could have been more than that, a year ago." Red stressed the words. "Why now, Erica?"
Erica fell silent herself for a minute, then nodded. "Because, I'm an idiot." she scoffed lightly, smiling sadly.
"I'm trying my damndest not to follow the path so many of our kind has." Red vowed. "I want more out of my life than this..." he waved his hand about to indicate his life. "I need more than what it brings," he hung his head, swallowing at the lump in his throat, "...I guess what I'm sayingis...I need her."
Clasping the man's hand, Erica nodded tightly.
"I love her..." Red fought to control the tremor in his voice.
Erica's lips trembled, hearing the raw emotion in the man's voice. Taking a moment, she cleared her throat, glancing at her watch.
"Then... you better get going," Erica smiled tremulously, "the ceremony starts shortly," she hastily swiped at a fallen tear, "... and your Elizabeth is waiting."
Engulfing the woman in a tight embrace, Red felt they had finally buried the hatchet, erasing any animosity that had remained. A certain peace fell between them, offering them a complete sense of closure.
Though he did not need it, that Erica understood his actions were not vindictive, but were born through hopeful aspirations and love, meant a great deal to him.
"Thank you." Red whispered before pulling back.
Clearing his throat, he smiled warmly at the woman. "You'll be there... to watch me get the old ball and chain?" He asked, handing the woman a handkerchief.
"That's the only way anyone will get you shackled." Blotting her eyes with the soft cloth, Erica laughed quietly. "I'll be there." she nodded.
"Wish me luck." he winked, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
"Hold to the happiness and hope you feel today." Erica quoted lightly.
"Hallmark?" Red grinned.
Erica shook her head. "Google."
Laughing, Red gave her hand one last squeeze before he let go... walking down the corridor towards his future.
Lizzington
Red's mood lifted as they moved through the hotel. People were friendly, people seemed in a great mood, it was a very lovely day, all was right with the world.
"Why do I feel like something's going to go wrong?" Red mused aloud.
"It is what you do. It is what you expect, it is what usually happens." Dembe lifted a hand to indicate the correct corridor to take on their route. "Nothing will happen, Raymond. It will be a wonderful ceremony and you and Elizabeth will be man and wife in a short while."
"Why does that make me feel better." Red cut amused eyes his friend's way. "You aren't some psychic soothsayer."
"Because you want to believe it is true." Dembe smiled. "Which it is."
Red smiled, shaking his head for such an illogical outlook, but still. He felt better. The two men passed a charming easel listing the upcoming ceremony. Prominently displayed were his and Lizzy's names in very elegant calligraphy.
It wasn't until he scanned the information; he learned Mark Donovan had allotted four ballrooms for the blessed event.
"Four ballrooms?" Red gasped. "Four?" he turned stricken eyes Dembe's way. "My God. This is getting so far out of hand. Is it getting out of hand, Dembe?"
"Every guest in the hotel will be attending. They have flown in, most...for the festivities. We cannot be rude and invite only so many."
"Well, no, but..."
"Considering only a certain amount of people can fit into the actual wedding venue," Dembe related pertinent information, "Mark directed staff to provide a broadcast of events to available staterooms." He knew the drill by now. "Everyone seemed most agreeable to the arrangements made."
"I know, but...my God, this is getting out of hand." Red was certain of the fact. "Lizzy will be overwhelmed. I am overwhelmed!"
"Elizabeth is thrilled everyone wants to share in her happiness." Dembe turned a stoic look his companion's way. "As should you be. Give her the moment to shine."
"What if she doesn't want to shine?" Was Red's worry. "What if she had planned just a few people...our friends..."
"Elizabeth said only last night, how nice it was that everyone wanted to be a part of your day."
"She said that?" Red was skeptical. "She didn't say that."
"She did." Dembe reiterated. "And has worked diligently, hoping to please all concerned. You cannot take that accomplishment from her."
"I wouldn't." Red assured. "Kinda hurts you would think I would."
"Then stop worrying over matters that are unimportant." Dembe stopped abruptly. "I think you should go ahead alone, to enjoy what Elizabeth has created, just for your special day."
Red glanced about superficially. "I don't go anywhere without you." He teased.
"You will enjoy what Elizabeth has created. It is quite an enchanting experience; I can tell you."
"I'm curious, of course. I would welcome your company, though." Red said.
Dembe shook his head. "You must see for yourself and have the time to take it all in."
The evening of the Midsummer Murder Masquerade, Elizabeth had witnessed what the hotel staff was capable of achieving. Their ability to transform a normally utilitarian room into a mystical forest had entranced Lizzy.
Now that their talents were available for her use, Red was most intrigued to see what his new bride envisioned for their wedding.
Nearing the designated ballroom, Red pulled up short, taking in the startling transformation.
The double doors were opened wide, veiled in pristine white and lilac colored fabric with garlands of startling green ivy trailing down in charming tendrils of delicate swirls. Sweet smelling bundles of roses and clusters of crystals held the diaphanous linen apart in swooping drapes, beckoning a guest to enter.
Stepping through the opened archway, Red pulled up short, awed by the metamorphosis which had taken place, literally overnight.
Votive candles and silk flower petals lined a winding aisle, enticing anyone who entered to follow the charming path laid before them.
Sparkling crystal chandeliers overhead caught the sun's rays, lighting the walkway in a warm spectrum of geometric design. Multicolored lights danced about, decorating the soft white space in a cheerful glow.
Enhancing the pure white chairs lining the pathway were cascades of flowers in varying hues of purple and white. The sprays, tied with ribbon, fell in intricate coils of fanciful loops.
Meandering down the thick plush runner cushioning the passageway, Red inhaled the delicate scents of lilac, roses, lily and hints of vanilla. The aromatic tendrils soothed the senses, heightening the mood of the experience.
Glancing upward, Red's smile widened when he saw the focal point of the room itself.
The wedding arch where he and Lizzy would join together, also draped in sheer fabric of lilac and white, stood before a wall of windows.
A low chandelier sat directly above them, casting a romantic glow in the intimate space. Drapes of fairy light and blooms of flowers wrapped loosely about the sheer fabric, allowing the bunch to be secured to stately pillars.
The unobstructed path ensured a clear view of the stunning backdrop for all in attendance.
The French-inspired framework of the windows seemed to give the garden, which lay beyond the clear glass a fairytale like aura.
The lazy summer sun overhead radiated a wispy haze over the flowing fountains, towering trees and fields of wildflowers nestled in rich green sprays.
The vision was as enchanting as it was tranquil.
To say he preferred this over his first wedding, was an understatement.
Red remembered back at the rather dated venue, especially by today's standards, and cringed inwardly with a grin. Everything, and he meant everything, that wasn't moving had been decked in flowers, lace, ruched crinoline. Everywhere one chanced to glance, balloons had billowed upward, held in tight bundles, wound around pillars or tied off to any and all surfaces.
The memory brought a smile and a shake of his head. What had they been thinking?
When all was said and done, the church had looked like a Rose Parade float gone awry, perhaps even something a woodland creature would take residence in. It had been huge, poofy, and overwhelming. Which, he supposed, was the thing in the day.
But this... what Lizzy created was beautifully breathtaking in its simplicity.
In fact, it was so esthetically pleasing, he couldn't wait to see the adjacent ballrooms which would hold the reception.
So, why did he feel a sudden twinge of guilt?
Was this what Lizzy truly had wanted or did the time constraint he himself insisted upon, force her to this minimalistic version of what every woman surely dreamt of for her wedding day?
Had Carla, who had all the time needed, gone over the top simply because that is what a female did on this special of all days?
While he loved the atmosphere created and thought it romantic and intimate... extremely elegant... did Elizabeth wish she'd been able to do more? Had she truly been given the opportunity to accomplish all she fantasized?
Perhaps he was just projecting? He had, after all, just compared weddings past with what was in vogue now.
He also knew Lizzy gravitated towards classic styles with clean lines and minimal adornment; was that only in her choice of clothing and jewelry?
Did the same apply to an event such as this? Was he being paranoid over even the simplest thing? What would Dembe say at this exact moment, he pondered.
"Shut the fuck up and enjoy the moment for what it is." Red murmured, shaking his doldrums determinedly.
Red broke from his inner musings, turning towards the sound of approaching footsteps. He sought out the interloper into his private musings.
"Red... Red..." Francis rushed forward, only to hesitate in his steps, once close enough to read Red's expression. "...You don't like it?"
"No, I love it." Red sighed lightly, smiling. "Why?"
"You looked kind of... wistful." Francis shrugged. "What does that word even mean? But you looked...something. I don't know." the young man stared suspiciously.
Red frowned, for he thought, wistful would be a wonderful expression to retain.
"We worked hard to get it like this." Francis smiled his own approval, looking over the ballroom carefully. "We wanted to get it right. It was a kick to pitch in, like we were really a part of the whole, you know?"
"Thank you, Francis." Red smiled... wistfully. "Everyone has been so kind to help Lizzy. I do appreciate it." he too swept the area with approving eyes. "But, I have to ask. Is this what Elizabeth really wanted?"
"...Sounds like something isn't clicking with you." Francis drawled, unsure what Red meant.
"Francis, I really like it. It's simplistic... perfect." Red explained. "But I'm a man." he needlessly pointed out. "I was concerned Elizabeth may have not done all she wished, given the time allotted."
"Oh..." the boy relaxed. "No, Red, really, this is exactly what she wanted." Francis assured. He leaned, whispering conspiratorially. "Lizzy had to get snippy a couple times because," he sighed heavily, rolling his eyes, "everyone thought there should be more of everything!"
Red looked around, frowning at the thought.
"If she had listened," Francis scoffed derisively, "this thing would have looked like a damn parade float at Mardi Gras."
Red breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad Elizabeth stayed the course and demanded what she preferred." He said. "Now, what was the big deal rushing over here like there was a fire or something?"
"Oh!" Francis remembered. "The photographer is out there, doing his thing." He hurriedly explained. "Liz wanted some pictures and video of everything leading up to the big moment."
"I don't do photos." Red held up a staying hand. "She knows that."
"Well, you gotta do them today. It's just for her personal albums, Red." Francis shook his head for such an outlook. "No one will see them but you guys."
"You can guarantee that, can you?"
"Silas can." Francis knew the precautions being taken. "Nothing, and I do mean, nothing...gets out of this place without a thorough search. Luckily, your guests feel the added security only makes them safer."
"What is he up to?" Red sighed mentally. "Is he making the guests uncomfortable?"
"He does that on a normal basis." Francis allotted. "But, no. They get it. They know you have to be overly cautious considering who you are and the like, but if they don't like it, they know what they can do about it."
Red shook his head to clear it.
"You have to stop being paranoid for at least one day. Lizzy wants some memories here." Francis dragged Red along as he went. "All you have to do is be yourself. The photographer has been vetted, and he knows what she wants."
Guiding Red to the back patio area, Francis gestured to the others milling about. "Good turnout, hey?"
A photographer unobtrusively snapped photos of each group present, as he made his rounds. The guests were captured in natural settings, sharing casual conversation as they leisurely smoked cigars and enjoyed refreshing drinks in the shade.
Though the majority of those attending weren't technically participating in the wedding, Red was pleased to note, Lizzy had graciously highlighted them as favored guests by providing all with matching ties and boutonniere.
To set the actual wedding members apart, only their boutonnieres were adorned with purple roses.
All men looked dapper and impeccably attired.
"Thought you might need some liquid courage about now." Mark teased, holding a tumbler aloft on his approach. He, too, glanced about the setting. "I think it's all coming together alright. Any complaints so far?"
"It's amazing what you have been able to accomplish is so short a period." Red graciously took the drink, smiling. "You, sir ... are a miracle worker. Now, if we could actually speed up time a bit, I'm more than ready to get the ball rolling."
The photographer unobtrusively circled the pack as each of Red's associates or contemporaries approached. Some offered encouragement, some just to shake his hand, some jibbing with jokes to break the ice; all elicited Red's smile to varying degrees.
Francis came to his side at one point, a 'wistful' look on the kid's handsome face. "Your tie is crooked."
Red straightened his tie without hesitation. "Where have you been?"
Francis' eyes softened two-fold. "She looked beautiful, Red."
"You saw Lizzy?" Red asked, his interest piqued.
"I had to." Francis stood straighter, his smile beaming. "I'm walking her down the aisle...remember?"
"Yes, well." Red arched a meaningful brow. "No shenanigans today, Francis. I will have to kill you otherwise. Are we clear on that issue?"
"I wouldn't do anything to ruin Lizzy's day." Francis responded quietly.
"... I know that, idiot. I was just giving you the business." Red went to ruffle the kid's hair but remembered in time just how important that 'hair' was to Francis Holbrook. He held back the gesture.
"All right gentlemen," the photographer made his presence known finally, daring to approach. "If I could get about three more shots, the ordeal will be at an end, I promise."
"You're only getting three shots of the groom?" Francis balked. "Lizzy will not like that."
"I have taken over forty of the groom, sir." The man smiled pleasantly.
Red exchanged mystified glances with Francis. "I don't remember posing for any photos."
"That's the point, sir." the photographer messed with his lens cap. "I try not to be intrusive in any way, shape or form. The pictures are better if they are a natural pose."
"It's hard to find just the right gift for you, Red." Mark had heard the exchange coming over to soothe any supposed ruffled feathers. "Josef here and his wife, Sophia are the best at what they do. When Lizzy approached me with the problem of locating a photographer..."he motioned accordingly, "I asked if I could pay for the privilege, hope that's okay?"
"We have worked on several occasions for Mr. Donovan." Joseph lifted his head, smiling affably. "Here at the hotel, of course, but other venues as well. We will provide your charming wife with memories to cherish for a lifetime, rest assured, sir."
"And..." Mark leaned to respond sotto voce, "he understands the word: discretion."
Red nodded minutely. It still went against his grain to allow photos to be taken. Dembe arrived on scene, sensing the issue.
"You should capture Francis' best side." he turned the young man to his left.
"Hey, man." Francis instantly balked, as Dembe knew he would. "That's not my best side, hello!"
"What does it matter, Francis." Red snipped, losing his own unconscious stiffness with his irritation arising. "Just take the damned picture."
"Why, so you guys can make fun of it later on when we're checking out the albums?" Francis did not think so. "I am devastatingly handsome if...you get my right side."
"What are you if he does not?" Dembe brought up a good point.
"Well, I'll still be devastatingly handsome, of course," Francis didn't see why he had to explain the obvious. "Just a tad bit," he motioned with a tiny separation of his forefinger and thumb, "not so magnificent. Lizzy would want me to look my very best. I know it."
"Whatever." Red snapped. "Just take the damned picture."
"I already have, sir." Joseph held his smile, nodding a 'thank you' to Dembe Zuma for his timely assistance.
Red blinked. "You got everything you need? Everything Lizzy would want."
"Absolutely." Joseph nodded graciously. He showed the results of his efforts for approval.
Red stared at the slides as they appeared. All four men present were shown in several different shots. Exasperation...relaxed...laughing...all natural and very well photographed.
"You did that while we were bitching and moaning?" Francis was in awe. "I look...phenomenal!"
"Enjoy your day, sir." the young man took his leave with a smile for Red's impressed expression.
"I need that guy to take some 'boudoir shots' for me." Red wasn't the only one 'impressed' with Joseph's abilities.
"What the hell?" Red snapped his head to the boy. "Who you gonna share them with?"
"On my Facebook." Francis rolled his eyes.
"To replace the ones you already have?" Dembe wondered aloud.
"You posted personal bedroom shots of yourself...online." Red checked, why...he had no reason.
"Don't be so stuffy." Francis lamented. "And yes, to replace the old ones. I have aged beautifully and matured so perfectly. Why shouldn't I share that with my followers?"
"They share with him." Dembe pointed out to a stunned Red Reddington.
"Of course, they do." Red nodded. "What do you mean...followers? Never mind, I don't really want an answer."
Francis shrugged. "He's just nervous."
"I am not nervous." Red stated waspishly.
Unbeknownst to any participant, Josef focused on the natural affinity between Red and Francis, quietly snapping away from a discrete distance. As per their custom, Francis sought to emulate his mentor, and Reddington, accepting his status in the young man's life... kept the moment loose and casual.
"Why don't you go practice walking up and down an aisle." Red suggested strongly at one point when the boy really was getting to his nerves. "It's something you probably should be doing, Francis."
"You're right there." It was agreed. "I'm having trouble getting the beat of that song. I have it on my playlist here." he fished around in his inside pockets for his device. "Dembe, you want to play Lizzy's part?"
"No." Dembe replied smoothly. "I do not."
"Mark?"
"Gotta go take care of some details." Mark exited with a smoothly thought up lie.
Red spread his hands expressively. "Ask one of the ladies present."
"Oh, hey, cool idea." Francis was off in a shot.
Red's head fell back. "One of these days, I'm gonna..."
"Kill him." Dembe nodded minutely.
"Exactly." Red felt better.
Josef watched the two men from afar. He waited patiently. Normally, he would approach his subject and draw the male or female out. He did not think it prudent to do so with Red Reddington.
But the man seemed at ease with the large black man more so than anyone else. The photos Elizabeth asked for would come sooner or later, he was certain. But time was nearing for the actual procession. He would have to take a chance.
Keeping his expression affable, Josef began the slow approach as if nearing a caged predator, allowing Reddington to gradually accept his presence.
"Your lovely bride has requested a special shot of you, sir." he grimaced accordingly. "I've looked through the prints so far and nothing seems to fit what she explained to me."
Red swept the man neutrally, nothing more.
"I wonder if I could ask an imposition of you." he asked. "Normally, I just ask the groom to say panties, and I get that special smile the bride wants," he jested, knowing damn well such a ploy would not work in this instance, "but I'd don't think that would work with you."
Red gave the man a bland expression in return, just as Josef expected. The young man tried again.
"I think perhaps, another route." He prepared his camera. "Could you describe your Elizabeth for me? Is there, maybe...some special shot I should get for you on this most important day?"
He lifted his head...waiting.
Red had not thought along those lines, to his amazement. Of course, he could have had this man close enough to Lizzy all day, had he not been so stupid.
He missed her time, the preparations, the stages...the emotions.
Laying his finger on the shutter, Josef captured a whole series of amazing shots as Mr. Reddington's expression went through a plethora of emotions. The man's eyes unfocused as a serene smile began to creep its way onto his face.
"What the fuck was I thinking, Dembe?" he closed his eyes to his own stupidity. "Here I was, wondering what Lizzy was doing. How she was feeling...wondering how it all looked from her perspective and it was right under my nose all along."
Dembe lowered his head, a soft smile gracing his handsome face. A smile rarely found on such an austere, noble face. "I did not think of it either. More's the pity, Raymond. I feel as if I have failed you in some aspect."
Red shifted his look. "You could never fail me, Dembe."
"Your happiness is of great importance to me."
Red blinked several times, swallowing the lump gathering in his throat. He put his hand on Dembe's shoulder. He cleared his throat gently. "...Thank you for that." Once again, he was forced to blink the moisture threatening in his gaze. "I am happy you are here to share in this moment with me, old friend. I would not want anyone else by my side."
The two men shared a brief moment of contact as each slapped the other's shoulder in a gentle show of camaraderie.
"We are becoming maudlin." Dembe pointed out with a slightly mischievous grin.
Only when Reddington's peacefully serene smile widened to a joyful one... did Josef snap the last shot and allow his hold to relax on the shutter.
"When you're right, you're right." Red murmured. He turned his attention to what Red considered an intrusion. He eyed the photographer suspiciously.
"Thank you, gentlemen." Josef stated amicably. He smiled, gathering the bag at his feet. "Now, I have to get back to your beautiful bride."
"What about the picture?" Red demanded.
"Got what I needed." Josef chuckled. "For the moment. I prefer to get the others, after the wedding...after you have seen your bride."
Without thought, a serene smile came to Red's face.
"I put the camera away too quickly." Josef sighed. "Oh well, I'm sure there will be many more smiles later in the day. I can wait."
He walked away, his stride a purposeful one.
"What the hell did he mean, he got what he needed." Red asked. "I didn't see him take picture one."
Dembe mused. "Maybe he really is just that good."
Both men traded enigmatical looks. "Or we're losing our touch."
"Silas checked him out." Dembe said. "We are allowed one lapse on your wedding day, surely."
"I don't like photographers." Red's opinion had not changed. "But if he makes Lizzy happy, I will bite the bullet on this one."
Dembe caught a passing waiter, hefting two glasses of champagne off the tray. "To a perfect day."
"So far...so good." Red lifted a cautious brow, sipping his drink just as cautiously.