Focal Point

by Daniel Davies

(Lizzington) A dangerous serial killer targets Elizabeth Keen as the newest Blacklister hits too close to home for Red Reddington. She must rely on the one person her instincts tell her she can trust. Liz finds herself inexplicably drawn closer to the only man capable of protecting her from this insidious new threat. (Mature Content)

157. Derby Days

Author Note: I want to thank Lizzington Fanfic Discussion page members for helping suggest names for animals in this and following chapters!

Thank you so much for your help... April, Ariane, Birgit, Brooklyn, Cristina, Codewordpumpkin, Cynthia, Jana, Jennifer, Jo, Kandi, Kate, Katherine, Kelly and Marie! :D

---

July 5th

"Well, what do you think?" Liz slowly turned about, showing Red her new dress.

Considering he knew the activities available during their stay, Red had taken it upon himself to procure a couple outfits as a surprise for Lizzy... and so far, he was very pleased with his choice.

As the woman spun on her bare feet, the knee-length skirt flared then wrapped like silk about her svelte legs. The boat-neck highlighting her shoulders and neck appeared both feminine and classy. The dress itself accentuated Lizzy's delicate curves in the best possible light.

"You truly are a beautiful woman," Red scanned the complete picture. "That's a stunning color on you." he said, gesturing to the woman's delicate flesh glowing against the soft periwinkle.

The only thing he detested was the fact Lizzy had to wear shoes. Not only were her legs beautiful just as they were, her little blush pink toes were quite fetching, if he said so himself.

"I want to see!" Liz grinned her excitement, rushing for the full-length mirror.

Following after her rapid retreat, Red smiled, watching her reaction to his gift.

"Oh, Red..." she turned side-to-side, hypnotized by the delicate fabric. "It's gorgeous!"

Turning in profile, Liz gaped at her highlighted silhouette, running her hand down the enticing slopes.

"My breasts look so..." she moved just so, tracing the supple curve, "... beautiful."

Withholding his amusement, Red nodded his agreement. "You should see them in their natural state." he spoke from experience. "They're not just beautiful... they're spectacular."

Flushing her pleasure for the compliment, Liz leaned, kissing the man.

Assisting in choosing her jewelry and low heels, Liz stood back, allowing Red to give her the once over.

"Good?" her bright smile faded when she realized the man was looking her over with a critical eye. "What? What's wrong?"

She hastily glanced back in the mirror, horrified at the thought she might have bled through the layers of her gorgeous dress.

Recognizing the woman's flash of horror for what it was, Red snorted quietly under his breath.

"Relax," he calmed her misgivings, "it's not that."

"Then... what?" Liz frowned, checking once more to be sure.

"Something's missing," he said, disappearing into the closet.

Looking herself over in the mirror, Liz frowned her consternation. She thought she looked pretty damn good, if she said so herself.

"Try this on for size," Red said, placing a large parcel on the bed, snapping her from her quiet introspection.

Approaching the package, Liz cautiously lifted the lid... gasping her shock and awe.

"Oh, my God..." she drawled, lifting the lid fully, revealing a Merry-Widow hat in a charming lilac color.

The wide brim held an assortment of wispy feathers and exquisite silk flowers in periwinkle and creams, all of which complemented her dress to perfection.

Red smiled as Lizzy's fingers fluttered anxiously over her prize, her eyes radiating joy and anticipation.

"This is...perfection!" she squealed her delight, lifting the impressive hat, spinning it curiously.

"Turn and face me," Red suggested, taking the intricate hat from her hands.

"Don't hurt it!" she watched the man's gentle handling like a hawk, mindless of his chuckle of amusement.

Placing the extravagant accessory atop Lizzy's silken hair, Red's eyes softened on the beauty before him.

The sloping brim added a hint of allure, sophistication and mystery... just as he hoped it would.

Without thought, the woman straightened her posture, proudly lifting her chin and elongating her elegant neck in a graceful, regal pose.

"My God..." Red blew out a tremulous breath. "What a striking vision you are." he slowly turned the woman, peeking around the extravagant accessory to watch her reaction once more.

"Oh, wow..." she turned her head just so, stunned by her picturesque profile. "Holy hell...look at me! I'm freaking... wow!"

Red's heart pounded hard in his chest as she turned the other way, offering a different angle that made her appear flirtatious and sensual.

"I can honestly say, seeing you like this," Red murmured his awe, "makes me highly anticipate our wedding day... so much more."

The man's eyes darkened sensually when the woman's lashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks, pleased by his comment.

Stooping, the man made his way around the slope brim, capturing the pink mouth with his own, visions of stealing more kisses under the privacy of that hat filled his imagination with alluring pictures.

"Let's go knock their socks off, baby." Offering his arm, Red smiled his pleasure, escorting his lady to the door like a gentleman should.

---

Guiding Elizabeth to a reserved cart, Red assisted the woman up into her seat before taking his place beside her.

The small cart crunched across the gravel path, delivering them to their destination with ease. Passing fellow guests, Red and Liz nodded a greeting, smiling an acknowledgment as they traversed the grounds.

"How many races are there?" Liz asked, placing a hand atop her hat lest it take flight in the wind.

"There were three last year," Red rested their clasped hands against his thigh, absently massaging the woman's small fingers with his thumb from time to time.

"I believe first up is the show jumping... or hurdling."

"I've never seen one in person, only televised." Liz admitted.

"You'll enjoy the second race." Red held his amusement. "Guests get involved..."

"They race their own horses?" Liz questioned the logistics of the activity.

"Some use Mark's stock," Red stated, "others have brought their own, and yes, Daniel brought his this year to test its mettle."

From what Red had seen of the horse... he feared it would not do well.

"The last race is our version of the Kentucky Derby." Red smiled.

"With real jockeys?" The excitement Liz felt grew exponentially.

"With real jockeys, yes." Red grinned at such enthusiasm. "One or two of the horses today actually ran the Derby this year."

Nearing the stands, the driver slowed the cart, smiling at his passengers. Thanking the driver for the smooth ride, Red tipped the man and wished him a pleasant afternoon.

Coming to Elizabeth's side, Red smiled when Lizzy instantly took his arm and fell in step beside him.

"Oh, I love her hat." Liz gestured to a passing couple. "Mine's prettier though..." she muttered quietly, drawing a soft chuckle from Red.

Pushing their way into the clubhouse, Red guided the woman to a plush seating area where drinks and hor d'oeuvres were plentiful.

Drawn into lively conversation with several groups of gathered spectators, Liz genuinely enjoyed the atmosphere of the festive venue.

In their meandering, they came upon Dembe peering intently at a enormous silver platter full of colorful, artfully arranged goodies.

"Oh, what's that?" Liz craned her neck, glancing over the delicious-looking treats.

"That has yet to be determined," Dembe offered a disconcerted frown before offering over a selection.

Elizabeth gamely accepted the challenge.

Sipping his wine, Red chortled when both his companions wrinkled equally distasteful faces, instantly searching out a suitable disposal site.

"What in the hell did I just eat?" Liz hastily swallowed the bite, too ladylike at the moment, unfortunately, to follow her instincts and spit it in a nearby planter.

Grimacing his displeasure, Dembe wrapped the last of the tidbit in an available napkin, discretely tossing it in a nearby receptacle.

"Let me see," Red laughed quietly, wondering what it was exactly that made their expressions that comically awry.

Holding the bite between her finger, Liz lifted it for Red to partake.

Leaning, Red captured the bite, flicking his tongue against her fingers in a teasing manner... before chewing the morsel thoughtfully.

"Fried calamari," he said, sipping his drink once more. "It's not that bad."

"It is when you're expecting an onion ring." Liz grumbled her disappointment.

Snorting quietly, Red's shoulders shook with open amusement. "The races start soon." he glanced at his watch. "Let's find our seats."

"Oh, okay...sure," Liz looked around for some discrete place to ditch her wine.

"Would you like a top off?" Red asked.

"I can take it with me?" she asked brightly, perking up instantly. "I like this place."

"We can even order some onion rings to go." he teased. "If you like."

"Can we?" Both Dembe and Liz were more than interested... and pleased.

"Such connoisseurs." Red grinned, glancing around for the appropriate person. "Oh...waiter..."

---

With their order placed and drinks refreshed, Red guided Lizzy to their seats.

"It's nice to be on a first name basis with the owner of an establishment," Liz's brows lifted as Red gestured to their reserved seating overlooking the finish line.

"Sure," Red agreed, "but bribes work just as well."

Stepping into the box, an unexpected gust of wind blew through the stands, billowing Liz's skirt upwards.

"Oh!" she grabbed for the front, casting Red a grateful glance over her shoulder when he smoothed the back in place.

"I swear," she gathered the skirts in hand hastily, holding firm to the flimsy material. "I'm just bound and determined to make a spectacle of myself this week. Mooning everyone would be a wonderful way to get my name into the right circles, I'm sure."

"I don't think the peek would have upset anybody, sweetheart." Red grinned, pulling her seat back. "If Silas were here, he'd charge for the peepshow, though." he muttered, mainly to himself.

Taking their seats, Liz commented, "You should be raking in the profits, not him... if indeed any profit could be had, that is."

A young man approached their box, awaiting permission to enter. Scooting his seat back, Red gestured the boy to sit the heaping plate of sizzling onion rings on the tabletop.

"Silas' belief is... if he starts the betting pool, he is the sole proprietor. Thereby, only he cashes in on the profits."

"It's my ass!" Liz haughtily snapped.

"Good point." Red grinned.

The young man discretely pocketed Red's generous gratuity... and discretely ignored the conversation taking place. "Will there be anything else, sir?"

"A top off if you could." Red pointed to their drinks, producing yet another tip.

The waiter had certainly made a lasting impression during their stay. He was very attentive, quick and friendly. Red made a point to tip the young man to ensure the boy knew his work ethic was noticed and appreciated.

"Yes, sir." the boy smiled pleasantly, before rushing off.

"Where did you get those?" Mark appeared, inhaling deeply. The man bounded down the steps into the box, the scent of onion rings beckoning.

Nearing the mile-high pile of treats, Mark savored the tasty, crunchy slice. "I'm in heaven..." the guy sang his delight.

Leaning across the partition, Francis reached for one of the goodies as well, but Red smacked his hand.

"Hands off." Red arched a brow for the man's brazen actions.

Tittering lightly, Liz moved the plate forward. "Behave yourself, Red." she smiled at Mark and Francis. "We are among friends," she gently chastised, "order another platter." she whispered aside.

Cautiously reaching for the plate, both men warily eyed Red before hastily snatching a couple pieces of the crunchy delight.

"Thank God you brought her... you stingy bastard!" Mark munched the snack. "These are on the menu today? I don't remember that."

"No," Red confirmed. "I know people who know people."

"Yeah," Mark chewed happily, "... me! It's my hotel!"

"Mainly," Red continued, ignoring the man, "Lizzy wanted some..."

"So do I." Mark searched for a waiter, then smiled as one headed their way, carrying a tray of drinks.

"Steven... why do they have onion rings and I do not?" Mark asked the young man placing the drinks before their respective owners. "You remember me, right? Your boss."

"You... didn't order any, sir?" Steven drawled questioningly.

"Well, I can't sit here smelling theirs and not have any. This stingy bastard doesn't like to share, apparently." Mark's head fell back, sighing his woe. "I need them, Steven."

Pinching his lips to contain his amusement, the young man nodded stoically. "Yes, sir. You shall have onion rings, immediately, sir!"

Sitting forward, Mark searched out the gathered guests surrounding him. "Do we want anything else?"

"A bottle of scotch." Danny rumbled as he neared the group. "Are those onion rings?"

"Look what you started..." Red mumbled to the woman beside him.

Standing, Mark quietly conferred with the attentive youth, before patting the boy on the shoulder, sending the kid on his way.

Shortly after Michael and Susan arrived, the tables fell into an easy conversation while everyone munched on the crispy onion rings, leaving Susan and Lizzy to fawn over one another's hats.

"What made you guys want onion rings, of all things?" Susan asked, nibbling the treat.

"I just thought they sounded good," Liz explained. "We just ate a little bit ago, but I'm starving. It must be all this fresh air."

"And horse manure..." Francis wrinkled his nose... and ate another onion ring.

"It must be, I swear," Susan commiserated, ignoring Francis' remark entirely. "After that amazing breakfast, I didn't think I'd ever eat again," she confessed. "I think I inhaled about a dozen different mini quiche, they were so delicious."

"Oh.. I felt rocky this morning and didn't eat much," Liz frowned her disappointment, sorry to have missed that treat. "I had a little of Red's, Eggs Benedict, and that was very good."

"You didn't feel good?" Susan questioned.

"Just a little nauseous," Liz shrugged, "... a little achy." she smiled. "I feel much better now though."

Glancing off into the distance, Susan looked sharply back at Elizabeth enjoying her onion rings... and wine; her brows furrowing seriously.

Inwardly grimacing, Red knew exactly what Susan was thinking.

Damn! He meant to broach the subject with Elizabeth, and had planned to, but with everything that happened between the storm and Edward's attack... the timing never seemed suitable.

It had been a passing thought after the momentous moment Lizzy accepted his proposal. Again, the timing was ill-advised.

Red's thought had been on the woman's answer, her reaction... his relief.

After the high of his proposal, the idea Lizzy may have been carrying his child was an added bonus too good to even imagine.

The day after, they spent alone, loving one another and basking in their elation. It made a perfect setting to have the discussion; he admitted in hindsight, but the day had been so wonderful... he had not wished to shatter the harmony.

While he wouldn't normally fault Susan for mentioning the prospect, he and Elizabeth were still reeling from the events which had taken place and the emotional upheaval left in the moment's wake.

Now was not the time to discuss the absence of a child, that by rights... should exist.

He wasn't sure he had the fortitude to do so, truth told.

In a month, he had gone from being overjoyed by the idea Lizzy was open to having a child with him, to experiencing crushing despair when he discovered her blood streaked thighs and the reason behind it...

That startling sight swarmed him with conflicting emotions. He willingly admitted to needing time to assimilate everything.

No... now was not the time to discuss pregnancies or lack thereof.

Today was a healing day.

"Sweetheart, take it easy on the wine, remember." Red stressed, hoping Elizabeth would sense the tone in his voice.

"Huh?" Liz blinked curiously, then remembered she took a pain pill after lunch. "Right, yes... thank you. I'll take it easy, I promise."

Relaxing minutely, Susan leaned towards Michael, listing to whatever it was the man was saying.

Breathing a sigh of relief the moment seemed to have passed and any emotional conflict avoided... Red promised himself, he would take the time to discuss the topic with Lizzy... when it was a good time for them.

Steven showed up minutes later with a large tray carrying three heaping plates of onion rings, a bottle of scotch, a bottle of wine and two plates of chocolate-covered strawberries.

Taking the plates, Mark sat them about the table before sliding the chocolate treats specifically towards Liz and Susan.

"For the ladies," Mark grinned when the ladies clamored for the sweet treats.

"Kiss ass..." Red muttered under his breath, earning a smirk from Mark.

Pulling a bill free, he handed it to Steven for his prompt service. "Thank you, Steven."

Beaming happily, Steven chanced a glance at his boss, wondering if he could take the offer.

"Go ahead," Mark mumbled around his onion ring. "Any chance you get, hit the miser up for more."

Steven grinned, just as happily as Red did. One happy for the continued tips, the other knowing someone would constantly fill his glass without asking. The boy walked away, standing close should his services be needed.

"He's a good kid, never missed a day of work," Mark muttered, "aside from when I forcefully made him take two days when he got the flu."

"Odd for someone so young to not take a day or two." Red said, dropping his wallet in his suit pocket.

"Raising his sister alone," Mark mumbled around the last bite of his snack. "That much responsibility? I'd be scared too."

Frowning, Red lifted his brows, waiting for the story.

"Parents were killed in a car accident last year. Hit and run, didn't catch the guy." Mark shook his head. "Steven was eighteen and got custody."

"How old is the little girl?" Red wanted to know.

"I believe she just turned six, maybe seven. Cute kid." Mark said. "Steven's had to bring her a couple of times. Sitter didn't show, no school."

Red was glad Mark was so lenient.

"She's a quiet little thing. Either sits by the pool or helps the housekeeping staff." Mark chuckled, remembering the girl folding towels like a pro. "We all try to help where we can."

"Except you," Red stated off-handedly.

"Hello... I'm the boss." Mark reminded loftily.

Watching Red side-glance Steven, staring in awe at the crisp bills in his hand, Liz blinked at the gathering mist in her eyes. Smiling softly... she knew without doubt, Red would see to it Steven and his sister would be living comfortably and without fear before the day was out.

Turning their attention to center field, they watched riders and horses vault over hurdles and run the obstacle presented.

"You made it more difficult this year," Red took notice of the handful of riders that fell in water zones.

"Yes, I did." Mark said. "They read me the riot act last year about the course being child's play," he continued. "The guy I hired to spruce it up, said it would be near impossible for them to complete."

Liz grimaced as another rider met his fate in a pit, throwing his hat hard. "Well, he was right, apparently."

As staff began setting up the gate for the second round of races, Red glanced curiously at Daniel Courtland.

"Aren't you racing?" he asked.

Swallowing his drink, the large man pointed his tumbler in the general vicinity of the nearing horses. "I got one of the stable boys substituting for me."

"So why not enter him in the last race?" Liz questioned.

"I haven't trained him to race, darlin'." Danny grinned, shifting comfortably in his seat.

Scoffing, Red shook his head for the man's flirtatious ways.

"Just wanted to see what he looked like running without my fat ass slowing him down." Danny chuckled.

Liz didn't think Danny fat at all. In fact, he rivaled Dembe in the muscular department. Though, Daniel was dressed in jeans, button down and cowboy boots. Cowboy dressy next to Red's three piece suit.

This was a man comfortable wherever he went, even if he didn't quite fit in.

"Do you all have a horse racing today?" Liz curiously checked their small circle of associates that had gathered.

"Michael and I have one in the last race." Mark answered. "Red had one in a couple of years ago, it won."

"But not this year?" she frowned.

"I sold him." Red sighed his woe. "It seemed like a waste of his talents to be strapped to me. It's not as if I could attend the Derby and cheer him on." he smiled slowly.

"No, I suppose you couldn't." Liz lamented. "Not without gaining the attention of a statewide SWAT response."

"It was enough to see him run here... then win at the Derby."

"He won the Kentucky Derby?" Liz gaped her astonishment.

"Killed me, watching that over a tv screen." Red grumbled his discontent.

"He won the Preakness, as well." Danny remembered fondly. "And a very sizable pot for me."

"Oh, my God! Really?" Liz wanted to know. "Did he take The Belmont as well?"

"No, he sustained a leg injury a couple days before." Red grimaced, remembering back. "We didn't want to take the chance on any permanent damage. He's a stud now."

"That's what I want to be when I retire." Francis nodded sagely. "Not that I'm not one now, mind you."

All turned their attention to the activity below them as excitement built, watching the horses enter the gates.

"My horse, number four," Daniel told Liz. "He's in the fifth stall from the left." he pointed out the colt.

"He should have taken up the last position," Red arched a shrew brow. "... since he seemed so comfortable assuming that spot when we raced."

"I believe them there are fightin' words." Francis drawled in a twangy country accent.

"They might be, if it wasn't true." Danny laughed. "I don't think he's gonna do well."

"That bell's going to be loud..." Red warned, pointing to its position across the way.

Bracing herself, Liz felt a rushing thrill as the loud shrill split the air, releasing the horses free from the gate.

Keeping her eye on Danny's horse, she watched the large animal veer for the middle of the pack; scooting to the edge of her seat.

Tapping Lizzy's shoulder, Red held a small pair of binoculars aloft, which offered her a spectacular view of the action.

Zooming in on the riders, Liz silently urged Danny's horse on, for no one seemed to have faith in him, which was a shame. She held her breath as the animal inched his way forward.

She stood, unaware of her actions, eagerly following the horse's movements.

"I can't believe you're cheering for his horse." Red murmured, smiling against the soft shell of her ear. "Little traitor."

"I root for the underdog..." she defended herself, instantly peering back through the binoculars.

"Come on, Skunk!" Danny yelled for the horse to move faster as it pushed for the front of the pack.

"Skunk?" Liz scrunched her nose. "Really?"

"The first time I saw him, he smelled like a skunk," Danny laughed, "and kind of looks like one."

Peering back out through the lenses, Liz had to agree; the animal did sorta look like a big, hulking skunk.

"I think its track name will be... Shadowy Oberyn." Danny nodded thoughtfully.

"Oh, I like that!" Liz did.

Rounding the last corner, the stable boy kicked the horse into high gear, pushing the animal hard.

Liz forget all about the binoculars, cheering the horse on exuberantly.

Running three abreast with two other horses, the race for the finish line was a heart-stopping thrill ride... Skunk winning second place, by a nose.

"Oh..." Liz pouted her disappointment, instantly deflating from her incredible high of seconds ago. She'd have to go down and give Skunk a carrot for the valiant attempt.

"Still in second place..." Red chuckled maliciously, "and your fat ass isn't even on him."

"Are those fightin' words?" Francis asked hopefully.

Both men stared stone faced at Francis until the man offered an onion ring as a peace offering... and a pork rind.

"Pork rinds... my God, this is nirvana!" Happily taking the treat, Danny smirked. "The boy here..."

"Who the hell you calling boy!?" Liz chuckled quietly when Francis strenuously objected to the label.

"...Has an idea there, Mark." Daniel continued as though Francis had said nothing at all. "You should add boxing tournaments next year."

"Yeah, I'm sure that'd go over well." Mark scoffed. "That's a kettle of worms I have no intention of opening." he muttered.

"Could prove interesting." Michael perked up. "I was..."

Susan leaned, voicing the words in-sync with her beleaguered husband.

"...The amateur middleweight Golden Gloves champion of Middlesex, England, 1984."

Michael looked to his better-half, a peevish look on the handsome face. "Well, I was!"

"We know, dear." Susan patted the man's back. "We all... know."

Michael guffawed.

"Very impressive, Michael." Liz smiled happily for the man. "But I thought you guys already had a boxing competition?"

"That was the one thing I steered clear of," Mark pulled a face. "These people square off against each other enough without encouraging the act." he remembered, gesturing to Liz specifically. "Well, you know... you were a participant in one!"

Liz winced as Red's indulgent gaze slowly ventured her way.

"The sport was tried once," Red redirected the conversation, jogging everyone's memory.

"Oh, yes," Michael's expression bespoke of things having gone awry.

"The incident in Chicago," Francis said. "I was just a wee babe when that happened."

"It didn't stop you from getting involved," Red rolled his eyes, shutting the boy up. "It was all a tragic chain of events, upon reflection, I'm sure."

Dembe cut the man a sour look, but otherwise remained quiet.

Susan exchanged perplexed glances with Liz, neither woman privy to the tale unfolding as yet.

"Well, it was." Red defended his stance.

Susan and Liz leaned forward, keenly interested.

"Do tell," Susan encouraged readily.

"Oh, it was nothing." Red waved the issue aside. "Antonio simple believed a healthy, non-aggressive method of confrontation between, uh..."

"Warring factions," Dembe readily supplied, his tone a rather droll one.

"As it were," Red waved his agreement, "could settle disagreements or disputes much more amicably than–"

"M1941 Johnson rifles?" Dembe ventured sarcastically.

"Oh, really, Dembe..." Red waved the remark aside. "No one was using that weaponry."

"Which is to say, they are... now?" Susan enquired pleasantly.

"Only in South America, they're quite antiquated here." Red explained. "Anyway, Antonio's ideology was correct... in theory."

"He didn't count on Nicholas 'Smokes' Rampino being coaxed from retirement as a ringer for the East Coast Syndicate's official representative." Michael sighed heavily.

"Smokes?" Liz questioned.

"He smoked like a chimney," Francis muttered, "he also was a little Pyro fucker, set fire to anything that didn't move."

"That included, Leon 'The Walrus' Bianchi." Michael reminded fretfully.

"Leon was a porker," Francis whispered to Liz.

"Not after the fire..." Michael stated dryly.

Susan sighed her exasperation. "Oh, Michael..."

"Or Phil 'Philly' Harbinger being recruited for the West." Dembe continued, almost, but not quite smiling.

"He was from Philadelphia?" Liz guessed, looking to Francis for confirmation.

"He had a weird fascination with Philly Cheesesteak sandwiches." Francis once again murmured aside, his tone a serious one.

Susan's lips quivered when Liz scoffed her derision, returning her interest to Red.

"It was a bloodbath, ladies." Red shook a woeful head. "Even I couldn't eat for a few days afterwards."

Susan's brows shot up. Liz held her amusement.

"Well, that's horrible." Liz managed empathy, not much mind you, but some. "Just... wow."

"It taught a valuable lesson, that much was clear." Mark nodded thoughtfully. "I'll relate the gory details to my kids when they piss me off. They'll spend a night tucked firmly under the covers after that particular bedtime story, let me tell you."

"They don't make pugilists like Smoke and Philly anymore." Michael clearly longed for the good old days. "Now that, gentlemen, was a bout to behold!"

Red nodded agreeably. "It was... epic."

Dembe cut yet another incredulous look.

"I was just a wee babe." Francis happily munched his pork rinds.

"So you've said! Didn't stop you from winning a grand though, did it!" Red snapped. "Anyway, the point is..." he trailed off, a vacant look coming across his face. He sought assistance from Michael Fairfax... one of his own kind.

"Was there a point?" the man wanted to know.

"People would kill people, that's the point, intentionally or not." Evidently that debate was still out for the jury to decide, Red... decided.

"It's just a bad idea, given the clientele who frequent this establishment." Mark concluded.

"You have a point." Susan offered a non-committal shrug. "By chance, did anyone record this... bout?"

All eyes turned to... Francis.

Francis stared off into the ether, thinking back. "I might have? I'll check and–"

"Let's have a change of subject," Red arose from his seat. "Lizzy, I'm going to look over the horses. Are you coming?"

"Sure, I'd love to." she smiled, taking his hand. "Susan, want to come along?"

"Horses make me wheeze, darling." Susan begged off graciously.

Once out of earshot, Liz leaned towards Red. "What was that about?" she murmured.

"What?" Red replied, pointing to a jut on the stair to avoid.

"Tell me about the fight!" she was all a-titter.

"Oh, Lizzy, its ancient history." Red shrugged just as the horses came into view. "Ah, there they are."

Walking down the curving path, Liz turned her cheek. "Red Reddington, are you placating me?"

"I have an old VHS of the fight. I can dig it up of you are really interested," Red replied. "You better have a strong stomach. I give fair warning."

Liz was pacified.

Looking over the horses with a critical eye, Red shook his head at the first contender, when Liz would have happily bet on the filly.

"No, that tendon looks swollen." Red gestured to the horse.

"Sorta like your fingers there." Liz motioned to Red's bandaged fingers. "Did you ever see the doctor about–"

Sighing, Red redirected Lizzy's unwavering scrutiny.

"Oh, look..." Red came alongside the very next animal, forcing excitement in his manner. "If you're interested in specifics, this horse is loaded with possibilities."

Liz halted dead in her tracks, nearly hitting Red's back as the man abruptly stopped and eyed the next beast in line.

"This is our horse," Red drawled, eyeing the magnificent animal. "Yes, he's a winner." he stared the horse dead in the eye, chuckling. "Aren't you, boy..."

Frowning her confusion, Liz looked over the animal, wondering what it was exactly Red saw because... he looked like all the others to her.

"Number nine... what's his name?" she sought Red's track pamphlet.

"Icarus Jack." Noticing the woman's stiffened posture, Red scowled. "What's wrong?"

"I love that name!"

"Lizzy, you can't bet on something as intangible as a–"

"Oh, and he's got a cute little white dot on his nose!" she cooed, just discovering that fact.

"He's sired out of Stapleton Farms... they breed champions."

Liz kissed his cheek in open affection. "Oh, Red... don't be so technical. He's just a cutie."

Red sighed mentally. "Well... let's go show our faith in your newfound fur-baby, shall we?"

Liz smiled joyously. "I'm gonna bet big this time!"

"So we're going all out?"

She smiled, taking his offered arm. "Yes! Lay down ten bucks... no," she hesitated, "twenty! Yes, bet twenty?" she checked with the man. "Well, maybe do ten?"

Chuckling, Red guided her to the stairs leading to the second-tier. "You wild, reckless female, you!"

Returning to their table, Red reached for his tumbler, sitting comfortably in his seat.

"See one you like?" Mark leaned close, hope plainly in his expression.

"Icarus Jack," Red replied evenly. "He has a cute little white dot on his nose... this horse can't lose!" the man smiled slowly, side-glancing Elizabeth.

Michael nodded his understanding. "That's quite a method you have there."

Mark's shoulders slumped dejectedly. "You gonna make us beg?"

"Artemisia Lex to place," Red glanced between the two men, withholding his smile. "King Falacer to show."

"Dammit!" Michael grumbled, slamming his napkin on the tabletop.

"What? What's going on?" Liz frowned her confusion. "What's the problem here?"

"Red always picks the winners." Danny grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Apparently, he didn't choose their horses."

"If you take the time and bother to actually go look at the horses before they race," Red snarked, "you might pick a few winners too."

Excusing himself from the table, Daniel hesitated, sharing a brief few words with Red before departing the box.

Waiting for the betting lines to close and guests to return to their seats, Red leaned for the bottle center table... sighing his discontent as something sinister caught his eye.

Liz searched out the man, then the bottle in his hand. "Something wrong?"

"Not particularly, no." Red uncapped the bottle, pouring a generous splash.

Sitting up, Liz leaned forward, glancing curiously about.

"Are you looking for something?" Red grunted, sipping the warmed liquor. "The race is a while yet."

"Your new friend, Steven," Liz said quickly, "I thought some tea might be nice."

Glancing over his shoulder, Red sighed once more, the 'something sinister' was once again looking in his direction. He returned to his previous position.

Something was definitely up with him, that much was obvious, Liz sensed as much. Slowly edging forward, she once again scanned the nearby area... understanding dawning quickly.

Thankfully, Steven caught Liz's attention and came rushing forward, allowing Liz to sit back... hidden from Erica's view.

"Yes, ma'am?" Steven jogged down the steps, ready to take their order.

"Could I get us some sweet tea, please." she smiled kindly. "Red, you want anything?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Thank you."

Without hesitation, Steven bolted from view, hurrying to acquire the requested refreshment.

Red looked curiously down at his jacket as the lapel moved aside, then smiled as Lizzy produced his billfold and flicked it open in her small hands.

"I left my purse upstairs," Liz defended her actions.

"I didn't say anything." Red's eyes danced merrily. "You may squirrel around in my pockets all you wish... believe me, I don't mind."

Liz damned her reaction as she flushed a tinge of pink. While she knew what Red said wasn't exactly sexual... everything he said these days sounded sexual.

Noting the brightened hue staining Lizzy's cheeks, Red laughed softly. "Such a dirty mind..."

"It's not my fault everything out of your mouth sounds like sexual innuendo." she slapped his wallet closed, dropping it carelessly in his pocket.

"Most perhaps... but not everything." Red granted. "It says more about you, that everything I say is taken as such."

Much to her disgruntlement, Steven's hurried return interrupted the woman from replying, placing a large pitcher of tea and glasses within reach.

"Thank you, Steven." she smiled politely, handing the young man his earned tip. "This looks wonderful."

Glancing quickly beyond Steven's position, Liz found they were still an item of Erica's rapt attention. She smiled the same polite smile she was receiving before settling back into her seat.

"I can't blame her, you know." Liz poured her tea before settling back against Red's shoulder, extra careful of her hat.

"Excuse me?" Red casually draped his arm around Lizzy's shoulder, rubbing idle fingers along the woman's arm.

"Erica," she sipped her tea, shifting the man a knowing look, "... even that bitch, Natalia."

She offered the man her glass and smiled when Red took a long, refreshing drink.

"I can't blame them... for wanting you back." she revealed her inner thoughts.

"They don't want me back." Red grunted his discord. "They want to stab the knife in my back deeper."

"Maybe... maybe not." Liz allowed the man's mood.

"There's no maybe about it." Red stated the fact. "They made their choice, Lizzy, and I made mine." he shrugged indifferently. "These occasional moments have to arise... it's inevitable."

While Liz understood Red's aggravation, she also understood the longing she saw in both Natalia and Erica's eyes when Red was in their vicinity.

But, as Red stated, they made their choice... and that was to turn their backs on Red.

The irony? Their quest for money and power cost them everything of true value in the end.

"Are you upset with them for not choosing you?" Liz asked, curious to the man's inner thoughts.

"Of course not," Red stated without hesitation. "Perhaps I was at the time, but then... maybe I wasn't?" he frowned thoughtfully. "Regardless, that is past. I live in the present."

Normally, she would believe Red was relying on his uncanny ability to bend the truth, even project a stoic front to mask his sense of betrayal.

Though, as she studied his profile... Liz was inclined to alter that belief. Was it because she desperately wanted to?

"They never held genuine affection for me, Elizabeth." Red continued. "I knew that truth then. And now." he pondered a bit. "It just doesn't matter."

Knowing what she did of the women to date, Liz would venture a guess and say their quest to gain Red's attention had little to do with being his life partner, but attaining the unattainable.

If she were honest with herself, which she was more often than not these days... in the past, even she had treated Red as if he were expendable. He was a commodity that was used and stored away when not needed.

The thought of hearing a second-hand account of how she behaved, and that it wouldn't be a pleasant portrayal... left a very bad taste in her mouth.

"People change," Liz gestured to herself as an example.

"They do.." Red knew all too well, for he had as well.

"I see them long to be on the receiving end of your charm and affection again." Liz felt for the women, truly. If they held true affection for Red, it must hurt horribly to be on the outside, looking in.

"Be that as it may," Red had no wish to quarrel over spilled milk, "I made my choice, and I sought something," he raised their clasped hands, kissing her fingers, "... more substantial."

"I feel the same," she squeezed his in return. "I hope you know that."

"I know," Red's eyes caressed Lizzy's delicate features. "That's why I put that ring on your finger."

Reaching for a chocolate, Liz glanced at her ring... an overwhelming sense of peace and love blanketing her. She loved her ring, but more so, the true emotion it symbolized.

Holding a strawberry aloft, Liz held the sweet treat for Red to take a bite of the luscious berry. The man sampled, grinning his amusement. He sipped her wine absently to clear his palate.

"Good lord, that was scrumptious."

Liz leaned, capturing the man's mouth in a exploring kiss. His mouth tasted of strawberry, chocolate... and passion.

"You taste good." Red rumbled, kissing the woman's soft pout again.

"Why don't I have anybody to suck face with?" Francis interrupted the moment, tossing his losing tickets aside. "This day is getting more pathetic by the minute!"

Sighing, Red released Lizzy's mouth, shifting perturbed eyes. "If you weren't so busy being the PDA police, you might have noticed that little blonde that's been eyeing you since her arrival."

Sitting upright in his chair with a jerk, Francis' eyes darted about quickly for the woman in question.

"Who? Where?" he hastily straightened his tie and looked to Lizzy for her approval.

Admirably holding his smile, Red chuckled quietly when Lizzy gestured Francis closer, licking her fingers. Red dropped a woeful chin when the man eagerly leaned into the makeshift grooming, allowing Lizzy to smooth any flyaway strands of hair.

"She's down there, you idiot." Red pointed down to a petite woman who shyly... quickly looked aside.

Liz's face transformed. "Do you mean the woman in the green hat?"

Red nodded in the affirmative.

Craning her neck, Liz offered a small wave. "Oh, that's, um... Melissa." She smiled brightly, having caught the latter's attention.

"You know her!" Francis squawked. "You knew her and didn't introduce me!"

"She just arrived yesterday," Liz rolled her eyes. "Calm down, you lunatic."

"You had more than enough time to introduce her to your very handsome best-friend!" Francis complained.

"I felt it better she acclimate herself to the psycho ward," Liz grumbled, "before foisting you on her."

"What do you think I should do?" Francis asked, looking the woman over with an interested eye.

"Go bug her instead of us?" Red suggested, his tone droll.

"I know it may be a novelty for you," Danny sat forward, leaning his arms into the table, "but you could try asking for her name to start a conversation?"

"I already know her name," Francis objected strenuously to such advice.

Danny sighed mentally. "She doesn't know that, you numb-nut idiot."

"No, no." Mark interrupted, waving off the suggestion. "Get her sign, man. Find out straight away if you're compatible."

"Should Francis check her mood ring as well?" Danny enquired.

"Well, yeah, of course." Mark sniggered when Francis nodded slowly, obviously taking the suggestion seriously.

"I'm digging it." Francis did.

"You could always try spilling your drink on her... that's how I got Susan's attention." Michael proudly related.

"That was so stupid, Michael... so cliché." Susan differed. "That is not why I gave you a chance."

"Then what, my little tea biscuit?" Michael was stymied.

"Well, my little haggis-pie..." Susan drawled dangerously.

Liz shivered her revulsion at the pet name.

"Seems obvious to me," Red ventured a guess. "... He had money, right?"

"You had money." Susan punctuated the words.

"I have loads of that!" Francis perked up.

"Ask if she's enjoying the races, Francis." Liz counseled. "The rest will happen."

The men at the table looked so confused by the simplicity of her suggestion, Red rubbed his suddenly weary head.

"Come with me." Francis prodded Mark and Dembe.

"Ah, no," Red held up his hand, "... Dembe's taken."

Dembe nodded stoically that he was indeed, returning his interest to the horses below.

"Why do I have to go?" Mark offered a surly frown.

"She has a couple friends down there," Francis prodded. "One of us is bound to get lucky."

"I seriously doubt it." Red mumbled under his breath, earning him a small chuckle from Lizzy.

"You're both chicken shits," Danny snapped his exasperation, "get down there before I throw you over this fucking banister."

The tumbler muffled Red's deep laughter, "He'll do it, boys."

"We don't see you going down there!" Francis complained.

Red scowled at the young man, before slowly pointing to... Lizzy.

Liz, in turn, flashed her ring as proof and reminder.

"Oh... right." Francis jabbed a finger at Danny. "Well, what about you?"

Looking back down at the girls, the man himself suddenly sat upright, whistling under his breath.

"Hot damn..." Daniel downed his drink as he stood. "The redhead is mine..." he warned, brushing the wrinkles and pork rind residue from his shirt.

"Oh, that's Emma," Liz smiled warmly. "She's funny, and–"

"Is she single?" Danny interrupted, demanding to know the scoop on the woman.

Swiveling his head towards a flustered Elizabeth, Red lifted questioning brows.

"Uh, y-yes," she stammered, her brow crinkling.

"And-and-and Melissa?" Francis wanted to know, stuttering his excitement.

"Yes," Liz's brow furrowed further, "they're here for a girls-getaway and–"

"I don't know," Mark shook his head. "With Amanda and everything..." the man trailed off, lifting from his seat, his face transforming, recognition setting in. "Amanda?"

Liz followed the man's eye-line, her smile widening when the woman in question became visible. One of the staff was pointing their direction, obviously showing where Mark and their group could be located.

"What the hell?" Mark looked quickly back and forth between the woman and his group, stunned by his girl-friend's arrival. "Did you know she was here?" he asked Lizzy.

Red looked back at Lizzy, wondering that himself. "Lizzy, you've been networking." he stuck a pork rind in his mouth.

"I was trying to tell you," Liz exasperated, "I met Emma and Melissa in the lobby last night." she relayed events. "They were waiting for someone in their party to arrive...lo-and-behold, Amanda calls and says her flight was delayed in Georgia."

It wasn't until later, Liz realized what a weird coincidence it had been she happened upon the women.

For reasons Red could not fathom, each man stood rooted to the spot, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I'm no expert," Red counseled, "but generally, a journey starts with one step." he motioned to Daniel, who already had a good head start on the stragglers.

Francis turned hastily, stumbling into a chair.

Quickly throwing his arm out, Mark caught the man's awkward stumble, just barely.

"Oh, a lot you know, Svengali!" Francis threw an accusing look Red's way.

Mark held up a placating hand, "No, man... Red was just being metaphorical... it's like, one small step for man–"

"Don't get on that moon-landing shit, cause it never happened!" Francis had other important things on his mind.

Liz and Susan tossed up their hands in unconditional surrender at that revelation.

Red shared a pained look with Michael when Francis and Mark jerked and turned to Liz and Susan, gesturing to their appearance, seeking much needed approval from a trusted source.

Receiving a thumbs up, both men raced to catch up with Daniel who was already bouncing rapidly down the steps... his focus zeroed in on the small red-head just feet away.

"You think they'll score?" Michael asked wistfully, remembering fonder days.

"You did...by the grace of God," Susan reminded, brushing a whispered endearment in the man's ear.

"Are we betting on odds?" Dembe was there suddenly.

Michael grimaced, then pulled out his wallet.

"Mark has an edge," Red gave Michael the lowdown. "Though, he can sour that soon enough."

Both men nodded cryptically. "Ain't that the truth." Michael was pondering his chances of winning a large pot.

Chortling, Michael remembered well enough how the young man tanked with a sure thing... more than once in the past. "And Francis?"

"A dark horse." Dembe surmised.

"God help him," Red muttered, increasing the pitch of Michael' laughter. "That boy has the worst luck when it comes to women."

"He does not," Liz tucked herself against Red's side.

"Lia," Red held up a finger, "..Nora," he ticked off another finger, "Maria... and that Spanish beauty the other night."

Liz winced, all incidents recalled in vivid color.

"What happened the other night?" Michael perked up. "What I miss?"

Relating the horror story, Red grinned as Michael wheezed and choked, nearly falling from his chair at the story related.

"The pool, you say." Michael wiped at his eyes.

Red motioned, imitating Francis taking the plunge.

"What a dumbass." Michael's laughter returned.

"You weren't any more suave, darling." Susan arched a shrew brow.

"But... I still scored." he arched just as shrew a brow. "With a hottie, at that."

Liz giggled softly as she listened to Susan relate all Michael's shortcomings, some of the incidents downright amusing, if not painfully embarrassing.

"You want to go try your luck, sailor?" Liz whispered in Red's ear.

"I'm trying right now." Red craned his head around Lizzy's hat, kissing the slope of her neck.

"Just out of curiosity," Liz opened herself to his affection, "do you think you could get one of those young beauties up to your room?"

"Sweetheart, I'm trying to get in your panties," Red murmured softly in her ear. "One crisis at a time, please."

Red turned into the soft brush of her laugh grazing his cheek, scoffing himself a breath later, something odd catching his attention.

"What is it with that man?" Red asked, directing Elizabeth's attention. "Daniel is what, six-foot-four...and manages to pick the five-foot tall woman to hit on, every time."

"They look cute." Liz smiled at the size comparison.

"And already cozy." Susan sighed blissfully. "I'm feeling amorous."

"Does that mean, I'll get lucky, old girl?" Michael was all ears suddenly.

"You have a one in ten chance, old boy." Susan smiled secretly at nothing in particular.

Michael brightened, sharing his good fortune with Red. "I say, my chances have improved, old man."

"Like the odds that much do you?" Red cocked his head, grinning. "Wanna make a bet on it?"

Susan snorted quietly when Michael's expression fell somewhat... the odds suddenly more unstable than he originally hoped.

Liz and Susan raptly watched the Danny Courtland's large arm wrap about Emma's small waist and slowly direct the woman back his way.

"What are you two grinning for?" Michael scowled.

"They look like the cover of a romance novel." Susan sighed dreamily.

Lifting her binoculars, Liz looked the couple up and down, tsking, "I can't get them in the same frame." she pouted.

"That's because he's a yard taller than her," Red made mention, "and a yard wider..." he gestured.

"Oop," Michael chuckled, "where'd she go?"

Craning her neck, Liz smiled as Danny sidled up behind the woman, effectively blocking sight of her tiny frame with his muscular bulk.

"That is so cute," Liz beamed happily, sharing her insight with a receptive Susan Fairfax.

"It's like a magic trick," Michael made mention. "I wonder if he'll pull her out of his... hat next?" he tempered his natural inclinations, having received a caustic, you better not say it, look from his wife.

Amused by the man's tenacity, Red chortled softly under his breath... until he noticed Lizzy's evil eye directed his way.

"I didn't say anything," he defended himself. "It was him." he threw Michael under the bus without a second thought.

"No," Liz narrowed her beautiful eyes, "but you were visualizing it."

"If you must know," Red leaned, whispering in her ear, "I was thinking, it would be entertaining to be a fly on the wall when they make love, considering their," he cleared his throat, "... size difference."

Glancing back at the couple, Liz's mouth fell into a disconcerted frown. Danny's arms were bigger than the girl's thighs, and her waist dwarfed by the man's large palm...

"What has that got to do with anything? He wouldn't hurt a fly... would he?" Liz knew it was better to not assume anything about any guests in attendance, but Daniel Courtland?

Plus, she couldn't see Red aligning himself with anyone of that nature.

Turning her head, Liz's frown deepened, "I didn't know you were into voyeurism."

"Oh, honey..." Susan tsked softly. "Show me a man who isn't."

Smiling, Red refocused his attention on Lizzy, arching his brow meaningfully. "Think about it a minute and get back to me." Refilling his glass, he waited for the picture to paint itself in her mind.

Susan had already gotten Red's meaning, fanning herself delicately. "Your odds just raised, darling." she purred to her gleeful husband.

Watching Lizzy in his peripheral vision, Red's mouth quivered when the woman's eyes widened and a vibrant red blush tinted her cheeks.

"Oh!" Liz exclaimed quietly, "Ohh." she drawled, staring back at the couple who were already kissing.

Leaning over his diminutive companion, Daniel placed a small, but inquisitive kiss on the woman. Slowly backing away, the man's smiled widened when Emma's lashes fluttered coquettishly, her cheeks turning a charming pink hue.

"Well," Liz cleared her throat, "Emma, uh... she seems ready and willing to take him on."

"That she does." Red grinned, raising his tumbler in Salut. "Ride 'em, cowgirl."

Shrugging, Liz lifted her own glass, sipping the mellow wine absently... blind to Susan's troubled frown.

Really, even if Lizzy were pregnant, Red didn't think she had that much to drink; especially not enough to warrant any worry from Susan's corner.

Regardless, Red took the cue to distract both from their varying interests.

"Hey, the kids are gone," Red nuzzled Lizzy's ear, enjoying her airy giggle, "wanna make out?"

Using the wide brim of her stylish hat to his advantage, Red concealed their activities from prying eyes... for the most part.

Taking the wineglass from her hand, Red set it out of reach before pulling the woman closer, deepening the gentle kiss.

Leaning into Red's touch, Liz added more pressure to the soft cushion of Red's lips, sighing her bliss.

Red's mouth softened when the woman mewled a satisfied little sound of contentment. Pouring her whole heart into that kiss, Lizzy inched closer, flicking his lip with her tongue... silently asking for entrance.

Opening for her, Lizzy lazily stroked the tip of the sensual organ with her own, inundating the man with visions of her tongue flicking and rolling along his shaft, sending an arousing jolt to Red's groin. The already pronounced bulge shifted restlessly in his pants.

Fortifying himself, Red gave as good as he got... reminding the woman just what his own tongue could give in return.

Sensing Red's silent message, Liz moved closer, growling her disdain when the chair arm blocked her intention to slide onto the man's lap... a not-so-subtle reminder where they were and just how many people were present.

The subtle sound of a clearing throat vaguely registered in Red's sex addled brain until Michael deliberately exaggerated the following distraction; hacking quite loudly.

Regretfully breaking the moment, Red nuzzled Lizzy's nose as the woman panted through moist lips.

"Don't lose that thought..." Red murmured, then shifted narrowed eyes around Lizzy's hat, glaring at Michael. "Fur ball?"

Pointing in the direction needed, Red followed the man's indication, sighing heavily.

Dipping back under the concealment of Lizzy's hat, Red gingerly placed his mouth to hers, "Sweetheart, we're about to be inundated."

"Well, shit..." she closed her eyes, softly brushing her mouth against Red's.

Leaning into the hesitant affection, Red grunted deep in his chest, "To hell with it," he muttered, gathering the woman in his arms.

"Do you think he spikes her drinks with Spanish Fly?" Francis observed the couple as the group neared. "That's the only thing which explains the attraction."

"I think you need to spike yours." Mark quipped.

"Why would I spike my own drinks?"

"Self love, you moron." Danny said, plopping down in his seat.

"I don't need a sexual stimulate... most of the time," Francis dismissed the absurd suggestion.

"Just looking in a mirror gets him off." Mark muttered.

"I'm hot," Francis heard the quip, agreeing with the assessment. "What's not to love?"

Liz laughed softly against Red's lips, reluctantly pulling back.

"You can't all have struck out." Red smiled, kissing Lizzy's thumb as she wiped away the traces of lipstick she left behind from his lips.

"We didn't strike out!" Mark defended himself and his buddies. "The ladies are using the facilities."

"You didn't stay to escort them up?" Susan pointed out the error of their ways.

"We didn't want to appear clingy." Francis explained the strategy.

"Should I point out that one of you was already clinging to a woman not but five minutes ago?" Red turned to Danny, specifically.

"She's a Texan." Danny shrugged. "She understands me."

All fell silent, waiting for further explanation.

"She's wearing boots, knows her horses, and recited a line from a John Wayne movie." the man ticked off his own list of important information. "I know what's important to her and vice versa."

He leaned conspiratorially towards Red. "It didn't hurt she isn't wearing anything under those jeans."

"And you know this how?" Red enquired. "I'm sure I would have noticed you cop a feel."

"Did you see her jeans?" Danny grinned. "Trust me, I gave those a long, hard look."

Red shook his head for the double entendre, but couldn't fault the man. He was guilty of the same crime when Lizzy wore jeans.

"They make thongs now, you know." Francis inserted himself into the conversation, loudly.

Spectators in nearby seats leaned questioningly until they noticed the perpetrator then... sat back, resigned.

"Even better," Danny poured himself a glass, leering. "I've always been into digging for gold."

"I believe it's panning." Mark corrected.

"Whatever," Daniel snapped. "Either way, she won't be wearing them long... I hope."

"There are ladies present, you pigs." Susan pointed out.

"My apologies, ma'am." Daniel respectfully tipped his hat, before shifting in his seat.

"And where the hell do you get off?" Daniel asked Red. "Everybody around here was breaking out into a sweat from the heat you two were generating."

Flushing slightly, Liz surreptitiously glanced around. "It was a little kiss, for gosh sakes!"

Thankfully, the ladies arrived, saving an awkward silence.

After making polite introductions and inventive maneuvering, each found a comfortable seat for the upcoming race.

"They're pulling out the gate." Mark said, interrupting the boisterous exchange. "Betting's about to close." he reminded.

Taking a bracing breath, Red fought to regain some semblance of control after that little kiss. He'd been damn near close to pulling Elizabeth from the stands, fighting a war inside.

All he truthfully wished to do was pull the woman astride his lap, move her panties aside... and slip into her warm, wet body.

If he didn't get his hormones under control, he might just ruin Lizzy's amazing mood with his selfish needs.

Understanding Red's expression, more so his quiet demeanor, Liz smiled apologetically.

"Are... aren't you going to place a bet?" she attempted to steer their attention to safer topics.

Clearing his throat, Red shook his head, "I just enjoying watching, seeing if I was right."

"Icarus Jack and Artemisia Lex?" Liz confirmed his top choices. "Is that the right order?"

"It is," Red confirmed.

Watching the horses nearing the gate, they stood along with the other spectators.

"You may want to remove your hat," Red suggested, his eyes softening when the woman pouted.

"Trust me," Red helped her lift the large hat and sit it safely behind them away from harm.

"I guess it would block their view, huh." Liz said, smoothing her hair.

"You would be a better fit here, I think." Red gestured her closer.

As Elizabeth was shorter and couldn't properly see from her position, Red pulled her to his front, giving her a perfect view of the finish line.

Wrapping his arms low about her waist, Red naturally curved his palm to the small mound of Lizzy's stomach, absently stroking her.

Susan's eyes softened at the sight, a smile gracing her striking features.

Good God, the woman was baby crazy.

"I can feel you trembling." Red grinned at Lizzy's obvious excitement and anticipation.

"I can't help it! This is so exciting!" she beamed, taking the binoculars Red held for her use.

Bracing herself for the clanging bell, Liz felt a thrill pound in her heart as the gates burst open...

The thundering beat of the hooves and cheers of the crowed filled the air, electrifying the moment and Liz's exhilaration.

"It happens so much faster in person!" she shared her enthusiasm with Red. "It feels like I blinked, and they're all ready down the first stretch."

Now she understood the difference between this and the second race. As much as she would have loved Skunk to win... these horses would have left him in the dust.

Focusing her binoculars on the pack, Liz pinpointed the numbers on the horses Red chose, more specifically... Icarus Jack.

Disappointed the beautiful animal began to lag behind, Liz threw concerned looks Red's way.

As the horses battled for position towards the third turn, the thrill of the crowd surged, nearly deafening Liz.

The rumbling sound of people jumping in place, cheering their chosen horse on, plus the booming bass of the announcer's voice calling the race, made Liz feel alive in a way she never experienced before.

While extremely excited by the race and sounds surrounding her, she silently wondered, would she be as keyed up had she laid down a bet as they had?

"You still have time to bet me." Red had deciphered Lizzy's expression well enough, charmed by her excitement. "Which horse do you think will win? Pick it quick."

"Umm, Artemisia Lex in first place, Icarus Jack in second." her excitement tripled its intensity as she hastily called out her choices, taking on the wager.

"How much?" Red yelled over the crowd.

"A hundred." she blurted, totally in awe at the absurd amount. She hastily rethought the reckless decision, but...

"I'll match," Red agreed to the terms, before adding. "Tack on an addendum to that. The money, plus... you, alone, with me," he leaned to her ear, "for the rest of the afternoon."

Liz's tummy flipped in anticipation... and indecision, as she now struggled to decide which horse to cheer on exactly. In her opinion, it was a win/win situation.

Guessing what the woman was thinking by her expression, Red grinned... silently urging his horse to run its ass off.

He wanted to win... without question.

Coming down the last stretch, the horses ran neck and neck... jockeying for lead position.

Wringing her hands anxiously, Liz bit nervously at her lip as her horse inched to the lead.

Red laughed quietly as Lizzy jumped in place the closer the horses neared the Post until the woman was leaning out over the balustrades edge, rapping her hand hard and fast against the railing.

"Come on!" Liz yelled... to whom, she wasn't quiet sure. "Oh, my God! Run dammit!"

Fixating her eyes on the finish line, she kept her eyes peeled and whooped her joy when the cute spotted snout of Red's horse jut forward over the finish line seconds before her own.

"He won!" she flung herself in Red's arms, gripping him around the neck.

Laughing his own delight, Red squeezed the woman's waistline as she enthusiastically choked the life from him.

"Sweetheart, for someone whose horse just got second place," he drew back slightly, a smile lighting his face, "you appear awfully pleased... I wonder why?" he teased.

Smiling impishly, Liz lifted her mouth for a kiss. "Either way... I'm a winner."

As their group settled side bets, slapping money in open palms, Red felt a roll of bills land squarely in his hand as Lizzy chattered away with the ladies in their ensemble.

"What's this for?" Red frowned.

"Took your suggestion," Danny grinned, "and placed a bet before I got back." he gestured. "That should be your half... oh, and the bet you had me place for Lizzy."

Quickly counting out Lizzy's winning, Red shoved the rest back at Danny. "Keep it... I got the prize I wanted."

Tapping the woman on the shoulder, Red fanned the greenbacks, smiling from ear to ear.

"What's that?" Liz gaped at the handful of bills.

"I had Danny lay down an entire twenty dollars... just for you." Red winked. "This is your bounty."

"Oh, Red!" Liz beamed, clasping his mouth in a kiss.

Red chuckled when the woman broke the seal, grasping the money from his unresisting fingers. Sticking her tongue out the corner of her mouth, Liz hurriedly counted her way through the money, her smile brightening.

Leaning against Red's chest, Liz rested her cheek against his shoulder, chatting animatedly with her friends about the money they won, leaving Red to quietly confer with Daniel and Michael about the race.

Absently rubbing the small of Lizzy's back, Red laughed at Michael grudgingly counting out his loss before handing the large stack of bills to his wife.

Clasping the hand settled on her hip, Liz rubbed her thumb along Red's knuckles, giggling at Francis and Mark bickering over a lost wager when she felt a searing jolt pierce her abdomen.

Red sharply directed his attention when he felt the woman stiffen against him and grip his hand hard. A slight tremor traversed her slight frame, her muscles tightening up.

Gently pulling her back, Red palmed her stomach, instinctively rubbing the sore spot.

"You all right?" he murmured quietly, continuing the soothing touch.

Squeezing her eyes tight, Liz breathed slowly, willing the pain to ease. At length, the cramp lessened, allowing her to relax somewhat.

"Yeah..." she muttered, a worn tone to her voice.

Fully cupping the gentle curve of her lower abdomen, Red felt a slight release in tension as the heat from his palm brought a modicum of relief.

Keeping his hand in place, Red secured Lizzy's hat, just then catching sight of Susan's attention once again riveted on the imaginary bun in the oven.

Shit.

"Excuse us ladies," Red inclined his head, guiding Lizzy forward, "gentlemen."

Dembe frowned curiously at Raymond's sudden departure until his friend offered a negligent wave of his hand.

"We'll see you at dinner." Red assured his friend with a smile.

Ushering Lizzy through the crowds, Red led her slowly down the stairs, alert to her discomfort.

"We didn't have to leave," Liz sighed tiredly, the bout of cramps a tiresome one.

"It's all right, I wanted to relax before dinner anyway," Red assured, matching his steps to her slower ones.

"Would you like a ride to the hotel, Sir?" Steven appeared from out of nowhere, gesturing to an empty cart.

"Yes, please," Red was grateful to see the boy, "thank you, Steven."

Helping Lizzy to the cart, Red situated her to rest against him for the ride.

Delivering them directly align with the back doors, Steven slid the cart to a stop.

They had made it several feet before the young man cautiously stepped to their side.

"Sir?" Steven grimaced, now that he noticed Mr. Reddington almost supporting the woman at his side. "I'm sorry, we can discuss this later."

"Go ahead," Liz patted Red's hand. "I'll meet you in our room, okay."

"Are you sure?" Red was reluctant to let go.

"Yes, I was going to make a quick stop by the drugstore anyway." Liz smiled. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

Red followed Lizzy's trek until she disappeared into the store indicated.

"What can I do for you, Steven?" Red asked the young man.

"I can't take this, Sir." Steven held the large denomination bills out for Red to take.

"Yes, you can," Red looked away from the money, "...and you will."

"All I did was bring some food and drinks," Steven related. "I did my job, but.." the kid objected. "Wow..." he blew out a controlling breath. "Sir, did you count this?"

Red appreciated the boy's candor. "You're our waiter tonight?"

"Yes, sir," Steven confirmed. "Mr. Donovan assigned me to your table for the remainder of your stay." the young man rubbed the large bills absently, a worried expression on the boyish face... waiting for it all to disappear.

"Keep performing your job as you have been," Red smiled slightly, "and my glass filled... that's all I ask. The rest, consider it," he dismissed with a curt wave of his hand, "a life lesson. You do your best, keep it honest as possible... and good things will come your way."

Patting the young man's shoulder, Red turned away without another word... flipping his phone open as he walked through the doorway.

"Dembe," he said when the door closed tight and the boy was out of earshot, "... about this Steven kid."

---

Red pushed through the doorway, bag in hand. Glancing to his right, he found Lizzy on the couch, sifting through her purchases.

"Okay, what's going on?" Liz cut to the chase. "Why are you treating me like a piece of glass today?"

"What are you talking–"

"I saw Susan's face when we left... and a couple of other times today." Liz used the opportunity now that they were alone. "What's going on between you guys? Is there something I should know?"

Liz sighed heavily, a grimacing pain contorting her features. "I'm sorry. This damned pain.. I didn't mean to snap at you."

"Susan thinks you're pregnant." Red stated without preamble, sitting his hat on a side table.

"What?!" Liz startled at the unexpected information, then winced as the ache in her abdomen intensified She took a moment to control her breathing, easing the pain gradually.

"Why?" she groaned softly.

Red's mood softened as memories of Lizzy nodding off at dinner and during movie nights flashed in his mind's eye.

"Things started to add up for her in that nefarious mind." he watched Lizzy try to get comfortable.

"When you include the fact you were nauseous at breakfast, but ordered an onion ring and wine combination for a snack," Red shrugged his jacket off, slinging it over a nearby chair, "I assume it cemented her suspicions."

Liz followed along so far. "You mean like 'pickles and ice cream'?" her expression skewed at the thought of that combination. "There isn't anything abnormal about onion rings and wine, though."

"There have been other things," Red continued, "all totally coincidental... she's been on me to bring up the subject."

"Even if I were pregnant," Liz reasoned. "There are precautions, then there are...misconceptions."

"I agree," Red did. "One must be careful, of course, Susan just has your best interest at heart, you know that."

Liz frowned, utterly confused by the whole thing.

"Susan suspects you are pregnant," Red clarified, "then brings up the possibility to me," he continued, "...yet I blithely allow you to drink copious amounts of wine... in her opinion?"

Liz grimaced, filling in the blanks. "You make it sound as though I have a problem with the stuff."

Red scoffed lightly. "Susan is understandably questioning my judgement... or is pissed at me for not putting my foot down." he shrugged lightly. "Has nothing to do with you, really."

"It goes without saying," Liz continued, "my liberal liquor consumption would reflect poorly on me as well."

Cracking a smile, Liz stifled a giggle. "We would make lousy parents in Susan's eyes."

Red's mouth twisted in a wry tilt, holding a bottle aloft. "Want some?"

"...Yeah," Liz shrugged, nearing the bar, a comfortable silence falling between them as they sipped the chilled wine.

"Why didn't you?" the thought came suddenly, glass halfway to her lips.

"Why didn't I... what?" Red was lost for a moment.

"Bring up the possibility to me, that I may be pregnant?" Liz murmured.

"I thought... if anyone would know, it would be you." Red stated flatly. "Besides, we just had a massive fight," he reasoned, "and needed to clear the air about that first."

"Then the tornado from hell blew through," Liz recounted before a thought occurred. "Wait, how long has Susan thought–"

"Since the billiards game." Red sighed.

"Oh, boy..." Liz blew out a long breath.

"I also didn't want you to think I was proposing to you based solely on the belief you were carrying my child." Red admitted.

Liz's heart stopped, "Was it a factor in your decision to ask?" she needed to know.

"The exact reason I did not broach the subject," Red scolded, adding an addendum. "While I was excited by the prospect," he openly shared his thoughts on the matter, "no... it did not factor into my asking that question."

Liz searched his face, needing to read his expression.

"Elizabeth," Red knew what was going on inside her mind, "I wanted to marry you on our first date... I can assure you with absolute certainty, the possibility of a pregnancy in no way swayed my desire to propose."

The woman fell silent as Red slowly approached, his face ashen. He took a moment, thinking how to best phrase his doubts.

"Lizzy," he grasped her hand in a gentle hold, "I need to know..."

Lifting her eyes to his, Liz offered the man her full attention, sensing he needed it.

"The blood," Red swallowed heavily, "... it is... normal, correct?"

Liz's brow furrowed, the question an odd one... until it wasn't. "Oh, my God, Red!" she started upright.

Red could not get the image out of his head... those blood stained thighs leftover from Edward's attack. Had the stress been too much?

Did that son-of-a-bitch cause Lizzy to lose their baby? Was she trying to protect him? Trying to carry the burden herself, putting on a carefree act all the time...

"Yes," she clutched his hand tightly in her own. "Yes, it's normal." the blue eyes met his squarely. "I would tell you."

Gripping the hand in his, Red exhaled a shaky breath, his shoulders easing from their high perch.

"I would tell you if something was wrong," Liz promised with her tone. "As for this issue with Susan, that's easily remedied." she shrugged off the matter entirely. "I'll take care of it."

Red knew women spoke a language men rarely understood.

He settled somewhat. "I didn't know how to approach the subject. I just... didn't."

Liz nodded. "Now, did you get Steven squared away?" she deliberately changed the subject. "What kind of fund did you set up?"

She settled back against the armrest, pushing on her stomach to relive the pangs she suffered.

"I'm going to have to watch myself around you, I see." Red smiled softly, sitting beside the woman.

"Silas says I can now refer to myself as a, trained observer." Liz informed the man. "He says the FBI's methods work... but he taught better techniques so..."

Red nodded his understanding. "So now you're good to go. I'll remember that for future reference."

"I hope you will foot the bill for Steven to attend college," Liz got back on track. "That will put him on solid ground, permanently."

"Dembe's on it," Red said. "Mark said the kid's good with numbers. Could go for accounting."

"He may not want to join your... organization." Liz pointed out. "You still good with helping the kid out?"

"If he's as good as Mark says," Red muttered, "I'll steal him out from under Mark. Maybe he's good with computers as well?"

"Did you even hear me?" Liz drawled.

Scoffing, Red sighed heavily. "We pay well, Lizzy... very well." he conceded. "The kid has a head on him, he can see the possibilities, surely, working for us."

"He also has a little sister to worry about." Liz reminded. "Don't pressure him."

"May the best man win then." Red shrugged.

"Even if that man happens to be someone other than you?"

Red pulled a face, but kept silent.

She shifted her attention pointing to the bag Red sat on the table. "What's that?"

"Oh, I didn't know if you had one," Red opened the bag, handing over a heating pad for her use.

"Red Reddington," she gently tugged his lapel to hug the man, "you are a good, kind man... and people will write songs about you."

"Who's to say they haven't?" he quipped.

"Are you the one who shot the Deputy?" Liz feigned dubiously.

"I shot the Sheriff," he corrected, holding his laughter.

"So then... Dembe shot the Deputy?" she surmised.

"Actually, Francis did," Red played along, "...but it was totally unavoidable accident, I assure you."

"Well, of course it was."

Kissing him softly, she released a low, satisfied sound. "Thank you."

Placing her mouth to his once more, Liz wrapped her arms about Red's shoulders, pressing her breasts into the hard plains of his chest.

"You are most welcome," he replied as Lizzy slowly released her hold on him. "For what?"

"For being you."

Frowning his discord, Red glanced down as a crisp hundred-dollar bill came into his field of vision.

He questioned her with a scowl.

"I pay my debts." she held her grin.

"Did you get this from my wallet?" he asked of the perfectly curved bill.

"Well... yeah." she demurred.

Taking the money, he carelessly tossed it to the tabletop beside them.

"I don't want your money...or mine, in this instance." Tenderly placing his lips to hers, Red tested his boundaries, adding subtle pressure to their activity. "Can you guess what I do want?"

Scratching her nails against Red's nape, Liz leaned back, taking the man along with her slow descent.

Following Lizzy's lead, Red moved over her supine form, nestling one leg between hers.

Wrapping her leg about Red's hip, Liz curled her fingers into the man's waist, gesturing him to come closer.

"I'm going to wrinkle your dress." Red did as bid, resting the length of his body along Lizzy's smaller one.

"I'm good with that," she kicked off her heels, rubbing her bare foot along Red's thigh. "But don't touch my hat." she teased.

Resting more comfortably against her curves, Red deepened the kiss, lovingly stroking his tongue against Lizzy's.

Caressing her side with his palm, Red inched his way across the sloping frame, careful to pay attention to Elizabeth's reaction.

He knew Lizzy was comfortable with their sexual innuendo and even their present position, but there was an ingrained voice telling him to tread lightly.

Regardless of the fact a sexual assault had not taken place, the experience itself had shaken Elizabeth... and quite frankly, himself.

Considering what occurred, Red felt hesitant to pick up right where they left off.

Even after their earlier discussion, he was still processing everything, and he wasn't afraid to admit... he was having issue assimilating everything.

Elizabeth had to be experiencing the same emotional imbalance.

The familiar and loved sensation of Lizzy touching him felt as it always did. Even her response to his affection was normal and welcoming.

But what if he began making love to her... and she panicked?

What if he said something or touched her a certain way that triggered an unpleasant memory?

The very idea of seeing fear in her eyes as they shared an intimate moment was extremely upsetting and distasteful.

One thing was plainly obvious...

Whether Lizzy was fine with their intimacy or not, he needed time to come to grips with what happened.

Slowly breaking their lock, Red softly brushed his cheek against Lizzy's; waves of emotion hitting him from all sides.

"Is something wrong?" Liz's dark blue eyes searched Red's.

While small, she felt the slight shift in Red's demeanor; a hesitance she was unaccustomed to experiencing from the man.

Curling his finger about a silky strand of Lizzy's hair, Red lowered his mouth to hers.

"Nothing we can't handle," he murmured, his eyes softening.

Canting her head, Liz brows knitted. "You would tell me if... something was?"

A knock on the door broke the growing tension…but also saved Red from replying.

Turning to the sound, Red smiled wanly, planting his hand on the firm frame of the couch. Lifting away from Lizzy's warmth, Red pulled her to a sitting position as he went, covering her with the throw blanket as an afterthought.

Red opened the door, finding Dembe, agitated and anxious, waiting on the other side.

"What's wrong?" Red's senses instantly went on high-alert.

In their travels, he and Dembe faced a lot of life and death situations... but never had he witnessed the man so unsettled.

Dembe hesitated, side glancing Elizabeth. "It is Ben." the man stressed, lowering his voice. "You are needed."

"Lizzy, I need to go," Red grabbed his jacket, hastily shoving his arms through the sleeves. "Is Matthew on his way?" he checked with the large man.

Dembe nodded solemnly, speaking sotto voce, for Red's ears only. "Mark found him... downstairs," he emphasized.

What the hell was going on now! Downstairs? Red questioned the vague term, grasping his phone.

Matthew was suddenly there at the still opened doorway. The young guard's carefully placid face showed no emotion.

Something bad had gone down.

Red forced a smile...

Dembe waited, impatient to be off, Red sensed.

"What's going on?" Liz leaned forward, waiting for the goings-on. "Can I help?"

"Nothing you have to worry about." Red patted his pockets, assuring the room key was still in place.

"There is no danger," Red hastily assured. "I promise." he said. "The minute I get back, I'll explain everything."

Frowning her discord, Liz finally inclined an understanding nod. "... All right."

"Matthew..." Red stepped aside, allowing the man into the room. "I have my phone if you should need me..."

Liz held her phone aloft, "Or... if you need me." she called after the retreating pair.

Red's lips rose at the corner, appreciating Lizzy's desire to assist anyone she could.

Offering a small wave from the door, Red smiled for the woman alone. "I'll be back soon."

Liz smiled right back.

The door shut and locked.

"Well, Matthew..." she sighed lightly. "Are you a Blackjack kinda guy?"

She settled into wait out the interim.

Was this going to be another long night?