July 19th
"Do it again, only this time follow through with the left." Silas instructed. "Like I've told you to do a couple hundred times already and you just keep ignoring."
"Kiss my ass," Liz griped. Wiping the sweat from her eyes, she did as told, only to hiss and freeze in her stance a second later. "Aww...shit!" She grimaced, grabbing for her still healing wound.
"Hurts, huh?" Silas suspected the problem. "That scar tissue, it's a bitch. Great barometer though. You'll know when it's gonna snow."
"I'd rather just watch a weather report, thank you." Liz winced as she rubbed hard at her shoulder, her fingertips easing the bunched-up muscles this way and that.
Tracing the puckered flesh, Silas looked over the harsh pink area with a keen eye. While it appeared tender to the touch, it was healing well. "It's a battle scar. Take pride in it."
"It hurts," the man knew well enough, "but it's better to stretch it now, rather than later. You let that heal without moving the tendons, you'll regret it."
"I know..." Wiping her face with a towel, Liz sighed. "It just pulled for a second there... didn't expect it. I'm no wuss. Let's forge on."
Resting his hand on his weapon, Silas turned his head about to the sound of a knock on the door. He knew no one would get past the security stationed about this fortress of a place, so he was not overly concerned.
Still, he already eased the safety off the weapon, ready to extract it if necessity called.
The door eased open cautiously. "Oh, I'm sorry." Holding his hands out, Steven apologized with a grimace. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I thought I heard Mr. Reddington."
"It's okay, Steven. Come on in." Liz waved the young man forward. "Red's on his way back now. He should be here in a few minutes. I know he was expecting you."
"What are you doing here?" Handing Liz a bottle of water, Silas glanced at the clock on the wall. "I figured you'd be enjoying an after school sweet treat with your girl about now."
"Kids haven't split chocolate malts since the stone age." Liz scoffed. "God, you're old."
"Not the kind of treat I meant..." Silas gave the boy a side look and grinned at the suddenly embarrassed flush on Steven's handsome but very young face.
Steven cleared his throat. "I would have liked to..." he stammered, suddenly realizing the intent behind such words. "Oh, not that I meant...I...eh...I only meant. I would have liked to see Teresa this afternoon."
"In all her glorious splendor." Silas muttered beneath his breath, holding his amusement, but both Liz and the kid heard.
"Leave him alone, pervert." Liz rescued the situation and Steven, handing him a bottle of water.
"From what I understood," Steven finally got his wits together, "Teresa is having a girls' night in with her best-friend." He shrugged. "Apparently, Kiki broke up with her boyfriend and it's stirred up all sorts of drama." He rolled his eyes.
"Kiki." Silas drew in an even breath, nodding sagely for such an appropriate name. At least for the younger crowd these days.
"Well, her name is Emily," Steven said, "but she adopted the moniker Kiki last year, or so I'm told." He explained. "She wants to be a singer."
"Can she sing?" Liz blotted her brow.
"Uh... no." Steven grimaced painfully, having heard the girl's efforts firsthand.
"So, she's talentless and single." Silas surmised. "Oh, wait. It has to get better than that. Let me guess," He did just that. "Quarterback cheated on his head-cheerleader girlfriend." He wagered a guess. "Oh, please tell me it was Kiki's rival he shacked up with."
Steven frowned, for the man had hit the nail head-on. The young boy shared his confusion and awe with Elizabeth.
"Don't let it throw you. He is somewhat of a savant when he puts his mind to it." Elizabeth sighed heavily, tucking a towel about her aching neckline, stretching the linen to ease a mounting burn in her muscles. "And don't encourage him to elaborate..."
Crossing his arms over his beefy chest, Silas grinned. "One of my favorite pornos. It has a plot and everything. I stress the everything part."
Steven immediately seemed interested, so the guard elaborated...gleefully. "So, there's like two of them, right? Then the girls get into this, I'm better than you any day of the week, mode and all hell breaks loose. One is sitting on the guy's face...one is on his lap, doing what she does best and then... the poor slob..."
"Anyway!" Liz interrupted, then sighed fondly. "I miss high-school drama."
The young man's face allowed his acute disappointment.
"It's okay kid. I'll lend you my private copy if you want," Silas offered sotto voce.
"We were talking about high-school drama, not prepubescent porn."
"Like you and Reddington, don't rent the crap at any hotel you frequent. And you talking about drama...is like the pot calling black." Silas scowled. "If we finish out today without some sort of blunder, I'll hand you a crisp hundred-dollar bill."
"Which you likely lifted from Red's wallet." Liz mumbled.
"That's your score." Silas smirked. "You're draining the guy dry. Besides, I snag my walking around wad from Joe."
"Stop doing that!" Liz admonished.
"What? It ain't as if he's got a chick or anything." Silas defended his theft. "What's he got to spend it on?"
"Neither do you..." Liz arched a tart brow.
Silas' blue-gray eyes narrowed. "Do not even go there."
"Oh!" Knowing some of the gossip floating about Silas and that Samar woman, Steven squawked his shock Mrs. Reddington had burned the burly guard, earning a glare from Silas.
"You got something to say, boy?"
"No!" Steven was quick to skirt that issue. "No, sir, not a word to say at all. I-I wondered what you guys were doing though, when I walked in. I hope that was alright? To wonder that, I mean?"
"Just some sparring," Liz soothed over the awkwardness. "A little hand-to-hand combat training keeps me alert... or so he says."
"And I'm right because...I'm always right." Tossing his bottle into the trash can, Silas rested his hands on his hips, daring anyone present to dispute his statement.
"Uh huh...there was one glaring time when you weren't, rather recently... but moving on." Liz clearly doubted the veracity of the statement. "We'll just go with that for the time being."
"Yeah, you will, little girl." Silas did not doubt those words. His expression said as much. "And do not bring that subject up again."
"Is it okay if I sit," Steven gestured to a row of chairs set up over by the far wall, "and watch?"
Silas had noted the slight coloring on the boy's chin when the kid stuck his head through the door. A fist had definitely grazed the spot.
Tossing her towel aside, Liz winced slightly, disliking the idea of Steven being pulled into their lifestyle. "Well..."
"No, we don't mind." Silas interrupted, then gave the woman a hard look. "Actually, why don't you kick off your shoes there and join in for a few rounds."
"Yeah? Really?" Steven could not keep the excitement or joy from his tone and manner. "You, uh... you wouldn't mind."
"No, it's good." Silas encouraged, then motioned for the kid to stow his belongings in a row of lockers just down the way.
"Silas..." Liz whispered stringently, watching the boy push his things into an opened locker. "I don't think this is a..."
"Quiet." Silas whispered back just as harshly even as she scowled up at him. "I'll explain later."
Minus his shoes and button-up shirt, Steven returned, white tee shirt over his youthful build. He smiled brightly, eagerness written on his face. "My dad talked about getting me some sort of training under my belt before..." The eagerness became subdued. "But that's okay. Maybe you could advise me on someone who might–"
"Look no further." Silas thumbed his massive chest. "There is no one better. And I can spare a few afternoons a week if you're up for it."
"Think before you answer." Liz shifted the guard a cool stare. "He will put you through hell and then ask you to do an 'Iron-Man' triathlon directly after."
"Not directly after." Silas promised, his face innocence in itself.
Steven smiled, but that smile held a hint of apprehension which amused the burly guard.
"We'll go through a series of warm-ups to limber up," Silas looked pointedly at Liz, "cause she is always too hyper to settle down and actually do it...then move off into blocking."
"We just did that." Liz was not a happy camper, clearly.
"Well, we're doing it again, aren't we." Silas smiled pleasantly down at the woman.
Huffing her irritation, Liz went back through the motions with Silas as Steven mirrored their progress off to the side.
"Better..." Silas motioned to Liz's arm.
"Yeah." Liz grudgingly admitted it felt looser and able to move more freely.
"Alright, we will start simple. You..." Silas addressed Liz, for she knew and could easily follow his directions, "block right, follow left, jab right center mass, left knife,"
Steven's eyes blinked at the rapid set of instructions, but he listened intently to the given commands, memorizing them to the best of his abilities.
"Uppercut throat. Got it?" Silas had stepped through each movement he expected slowly, finishing with a flourish to Liz's body where needed, his massive fist grazing just under her chin in a phantom slice with a make-believe weapon.
"Yeah, I got it." The woman's head fell back, and she sighed ever so heavily. "I'm not a novice at this."
"But...Steven is, so shut the hell up and follow my commands."
"Yes, oh bearded one." Liz smiled sweetly.
"Now," Silas turned to Steven, "because I know where she's going to aim, I'll be blocking her hits," he instructed, "but in a real situation, the assailant can only guess as to his opponents attack pattern, of course."
"I understand." Steven nodded.
"I want you to shadow her movements to the best of your ability," Silas said, then repeated the instructions slowly. Both Liz and Steven followed along, practicing the hits in the air at low speed. "You think you got it?"
"Yes, sir." Steven thought he did, anyway.
"Don't feel bad if you stumble," Silas reassured the young man, then jutted his chin Liz's way. "Once she gets going, she moves pretty fast." He warned, then shrugged, a smile tugging at his mouth. "She pictures the ex...which brings out a little aggression."
Sneering quietly, Liz readied her stance. "I hate that guy."
Clamping his lips tight, Steven muffled a gurgle of laughter.
"Any questions so far?" Silas wanted to know.
"Well, why the knife to the side?" Steven asked. "Why not the throat?"
"A man after my own heart," the guard nodded his approval, "but the side is a very vulnerable, easy access spot, as is the stomach, face, and neck." Silas shifted a slow side glance Liz's way. "Which is this one's modus operandi. Tyson here must have been a vampire in another life."
"She already seems quite comfortable with the action." He hooked a thumb towards the woman. "I try to avoid it during training. Why waste time on a perfected move, right?"
"Better that," Liz sneered, "than biting your damn ear off. Not Tyson." She grimaced. "Maybe Rocky Marciano." She knew Red thought the boxer was the best.
"Marciano never did anything underhanded..." Silas dismissed the suggestion, "unlike you, you throat biter."
Steven had no opinion, for he did not even know Rocky Marciano, in reality.
"It's good practice to aim for other weak spots once in a while," Silas continued. "In a real situation, should your main objective, such as the throat, become inaccessible, your brain will automatically search out and locate another vulnerability because it has been trained to do so."
"The assailant's side," Steven said, assuring he followed along.
"I should clarify here and tell you, a lot of what I train Liz for pertains to her association with Mr. Reddington." Silas explained. "She's not in threat of facing a schoolyard bully, but a fight for her very life." He said, hoping the boy understood the underlying message. "She's learned to fight dirty. That means she never pulls her punches and uses whatever is readily available to stop her assailant cold."
Steven nodded he was following along.
"For instance, during one fight, Liz here," Silas offered an example, "not only physically fought her attacker, she stabbed the guy with a screwdriver, attempted to bash his head in with bolt cutters and bit him in the throat. Her main objective was to survive by whatever means necessary."
Steven's estimation of the delicate, lovely woman who stood beside them rose the more Silas revealed.
"On the other hand," Silas continued, "when she's on the job, she needs to present a sense of control. Her ability to subdue a suspect with minimal damage, but also assure they are no longer a threat to her or her coworkers, is paramount."
"There's a time and place for everything." Liz muttered. "Like taking a break, right Silas?" She asked hopefully.
"Zip it, weakling." The man cut her a shut-up glare. "So, while I may train her to use a knife," Silas clarified. "When handling a suspect at work, she doesn't deliver a knife to the suspect's side, but her fist. By doing what I've taught her, she could subdue a man with one punch if need be...well, eventually. If all goes well and she keeps focused and motivated, which she seldom is."
Liz nodded her head, to all being said, then hastily snapped an annoyed... "Hey!"
"If you feel your life is in danger, that it's truly a life-or-death situation, you do whatever needed to survive." Silas encouraged. "Otherwise, finding your opponent's weak spots and maintaining focus on your objective will go a long way to winning the fight."
Steven was beginning to understand the importance of this man's words.
Silas knew he was here not merely to observe but learn how to defend himself. Steven also understood, if he was to fight anyone from this day forward, he was to do so without the use of weapons or he would answer not only to Silas, but Mr. Reddington and Mr. Crocetti, as well.
"What if," Steven cleared his throat, "your opponent should have a weapon, such as a knife?"
"Do you foresee a time when one might?" Silas needed the parameters of whatever problem the kid was facing in order to train properly. He hoped it wasn't to that level, of course.
"I'm not sure." Steven wasn't.
"I'll teach you how to safely retrieve that weapon," Silas assured, "to disarm a combatant, then ensure any weapon remains in your custody for the duration."
"When did you start speaking so eloquently?" Liz scrunched her nose. "You sound like a cop."
Ignoring the woman, Silas sighed heavily. "So, back to the lesson..."
"Alright, let's do this." He said, lunging towards Liz without warning, throwing a fist her way.
As instructed, Liz hurriedly lifted her right arm while simultaneously throwing a punch with her left hand, allowing her elbow to complete the arc.
Had Silas not deflected the hit, she would have landed a square blow to his chin as intended. Before her fist had even connected, however, she rammed her right arm towards his center chest, full force.
Fortunately for the guard, the man wore a cushioned chest guard, softening her blow. As her fist connected, Liz reached for her waist, extracting a practice knife from its sheath before stabbing it into Silas' side, leaving her right fist free to aim for his throat, more specifically, his windpipe.
With the consistency of their training schedule, and Liz's hatred for Tom Keen, she hurriedly moved through the exercise with rapid speed and power.
Though Liz knocked the wind from him at times, Silas felt a surge of pride watching her speed and the power behind her hits increase since the early training sessions.
Liz Reddington had a lot of anger and hatred bottled up inside and was just waiting for her moment to shine...or more importantly, spew forth on some unsuspecting culprit.
Tom Keen literally wouldn't know what hit him when the time came.
"Very good..." Silas inclined his head, pleased with the results. He stifled a smile when he turned to Steven and found the boy nervously shifting from foot to foot.
"I want you to do the same thing. One minor modification, of course, is the knife." Silas said. "Since you haven't trained with it like she has, it's better just to use what you got on hand...which is your fist in this instance."
"I don't know if I can do it like she did." Steven gulped apprehensively.
"Don't worry," Silas grinned, easing the boy's anxiousness. "You can't hurt me." He said as he hit the cushioning against his side. "Need me to run through the steps again?"
"No," Steven blew out a shaky breath as he wiped his sweaty palms on his shorts, "no, I think I got it."
"Don't be nervous." Silas did smile then. "It's just me and you." He motioned between them.
"That's what I'm afraid of." Steven muttered as he unconsciously rubbed his jaw.
Chuckling, Silas assured the kid he'd be just fine. "If I see a mistake coming, I'll pull back."
"Alright, I'm ready." Steven took a steadying breath and nodded.
Doing as he practiced with Liz, Silas went through the motions, and at a decent speed. Steven was nowhere near as fast as Liz, but the boy did a damned passable job, if the guard said so himself.
"Do it again," Silas encouraged before once again throwing his first punch.
Steven hurriedly did as directed and realized the movement felt more natural... fluid this time.
"That was very good." Silas smiled as he patted Steven heartily on the shoulder. "Now, let's move off into securing that knife, shall we."
LIZZINGTON
Stepping in behind Dembe, Red tossed his hat on the side table with a sigh.
"This has been one piss-poor morning, Dembe." Not only had he been up before the ass crack of dawn and missed breakfast with Lizzy, the reason Red was called away related to an important shipment delayed by horrible weather.
He knew his reputation proceeded him, but damn. "They act like I can stop the weather from doing its thing." He spread plaintive hands. "Do I look like Mother Nature to you?"
"You mean the woman who portrayed her in the commercials?" Dembe turned an attentive eye. "Because... she has more hair."
Red gave the man a slow sideways glance. "She has it over both of us then... doesn't she." He gave the man's bald head a pointed look. "I'm just saying, why didn't anyone else just think to find a shipment closer to its drop-off point?"
"That's why you get the big bucks." Dembe imagined, were his expression any criteria by which to judge.
"You are absolutely no help anymore." Red narrowed his eyes at the guy. "Sometimes I think you're doing it on purpose."
"Whatever purpose could that be?"
"Hell, who knows what's in your head these days. I think you're spending way too much time watching that English show. Go back to your Jerry Springer days, I liked you better."
"You are just pissy because you missed breakfast with your new wife."
"I am not pissy and we need to get those computer geeks off their asses to fix the bugs in the system they created so this shit won't happen so often!" Red continued his tirade, grateful to have an outlet for his grievances.
"It could settle continental shipping issues, which would be pleasant for you as it would keep you from jetting across the world at a moment's notice." Dembe nodded sagely. "I paraphrase your earlier bitch-fest, you understand."
Red narrowed his eyes again. "I'm gonna pop you right in the mouth one of these days."
"Life will improve." Dembe held his smile. "I shall fetch you a drink. You may go and find your wife. Which should improve your mood."
"Yes, that would improve my life." Red knew. "I'm gonna find, Lizzy." Just saying the words eased the tension in his shoulders. He could only hope seeing Elizabeth would erase memories of the day thus far.
"Amir said Elizabeth and Silas were training," Dembe related what he'd been told. "Steven has also arrived for the meeting you scheduled."
"Good," Red appreciated the boy's commitment and punctuality. "Dembe, after you rest and eat, would it be possible to obtain the ledgers from 2002 and 2013?"
"Did you mean to say, 2012 and 2013?" Dembe questioned the interval between ledgers.
"No," Red shook his head, "I want to show Steven the difference between a great ledger in 2013, to that of a horrible one in 2002."
"You refer, of course, to when I kept your books." The large black man was in a rather good mood this day. The day, for him, had been a rather pleasant one so far. And he anticipated it getting even better tonight.
"Well, we were just a fledgling operation at that time," Red reminded. "We all wore more than one hat in those days." The sound of Silas' raised voice filtered down the corridor they walked.
"He's in one of his manic phases." Red murmured, rolling his eyes. "Poor Lizzy."
"Poor Silas." Dembe's brow furrowed at the statement.
"Is that all you've got!" Silas berated his pupil, as was his way. "Come on! Hit me with all you got, you little heathen! I know you want to!"
"I'm sure that's not all she wants to do." Red's lips twisted into a wry tilt. "And to think, people say he's discouraging..."
"They can't deny his results though, can they." Dembe countered.
"No, no, they can't." Red had to agree. "Elizabeth is proof of that. She's made remarkable improvement under his tutelage." The man walked on autopilot. His smile finally allowed.
"I would tread carefully were I you, Raymond." Dembe said with a twinkle in his eye.
"Oh, why is that." Red smiled at his friend, genuinely interested in such a comment's origin.
"I meant it when I said, I would give my life for yours." Dembe reminded. "However, should you remind Elizabeth it was you who initiated these training sessions with Silas at this time," he motioned to a sweaty and very aggravated Elizabeth Reddington through the glass doors, "... you're on your own."
"I don't know..." Red muttered quietly, watching his wife attempt to bitch slap her guard, "... I think I can take her."
Silas jerked back at the last second, just missing the full force of the back of Liz's hand. Though, she had enough sense to open her hand and gave him a passing, but stinging graze of her fingers and nails.
"You can think lofty ambitions all you want," Dembe murmured as he continued to watch. "I believe, should her memory be jogged to the right extent... she'll put you down like a rabid dog."
"See, that's why I enjoy your company, Dembe. I don't know if you're threatening me," Red clapped his friend on the back, "or encouraging me to pursue certain pleasures tonight with my wife."
"Does it matter?" Dembe asked as he quietly pushed the French door open. "Be it a sneak attack or full-frontal assault, I'm sure you'll enjoy the results." He whispered before stepping through the doorway.
Images of both possibilities ran rampant through Red's imagination and brought another smile. One that spoke of an eagerness to play with his wife... whatever the method.
Quietly sitting beside Dembe, Red's brow lifted with surprise to see Steven was also present at the exchange this day. So keen on his wife, he had not noticed the boy off to the side, and safely out of the way of the fisticuffs taking place.
"What's with you today? Feeling under the weather, are we?" Silas bounced on agile feet, prodding the woman opposite him. "My eighty-year-old mother hits harder than that!"
"Oh, you had a mother, did you?" Liz snipped peevishly. "How disappointed she must be in the way you turned out."
"I haven't disappointed a woman since the day I crawled out of dear old mom's nether regions."
Dembe leaned conspiratorially. "Just like the creature in that alien movie."
Shivering his disgust, Red nodded sagely. Focusing on Steven, who seemed able to block out all the surrounding chaos, which was a mark of a good, fast learner.
While he wasn't as fast as Lizzy, the boy was doing an adequate job of keeping up. It would be interesting to see if he packed as much wallop... or sass... as Red Reddington's wife.
The thought made Red grin, for Lizzy was giving it her all, keeping a constant barrage of fists coming her trainer's way.
"You're disappointing me, running away like a bitch," she swung her head to the side, blowing her sweaty bangs from her eyes, "stand your damned ground, man." She grunted before landing a solid fist to the man's solar plexus.
"Ouch..." Red faked a grimace for both the hit and taunt.
Grinning, Red watched as Lizzy threw a series of high and low hits and felt a surge of arousal when every other connected with their target. Even had she missed, watching her deflect the barrage of hits Silas tossed her way was... well... frankly, it was hotter than hell.
Shifting in his seat, Dembe coughed softly, but enough it proved a distraction which directed Lizzy's attention their way.
Witnessing the error in the making, Red jerked to his feet and automatically reached for Elizabeth just as the fist to her left connected and snapped her head to the side.
"Shit!" Red lunged forward as the woman fell... fast. So fast, there was no way she or anyone else could break her fall.
Red felt his heart stop as she crashed, out cold, on the hardwood. The impact was so intense, she bounced, then spun in an arc on the slick floor. His hair stood on end when she came to an abrupt stop with a high-pitched squeak as her sweat dampened skin caught against the dark wood.
"Elizabeth!" Red ran to the limp form, resting his hand on her hip to steady himself as he crouched beside her.
"Fuck!" Silas hastily knelt behind the crumbled form, stabilizing her back so she wouldn't move. "Do you fucking believe what just happened!" He cast shocked eyes Dembe's way.
"Lizzy, baby..." Red hurriedly searched her head for visible injuries before brushing his fingers through the damp strands. "Can you hear me?" He leaned over her prone form, gingerly feeling her skull.
"Silas, it is not like you to not pull your punches," Dembe scolded as he hurried forward with a pack of ice.
"I was... I did!" Silas worriedly hovered over the woman. "We just," he exhaled a harsh breath, "I was mirroring her movements like I always do!" He snapped, obviously angry with himself. "She really got in a groove today!"
"Is there anything I can do?" Steven quietly stepped to their side, wringing his hands anxiously.
"Another ice pack, please." Listening to her breathing normally, Red tenderly stroked Lizzy's temples, hoping to rouse her slowly. "Baby, you with us yet?"
Groaning softly, Liz grimaced slightly before she felt a sharp sting of pain. Fighting against the dizzying effect she was experiencing. Squeezing her eyes tight, she willed them to stop rolling about before they finally settled in place.
Slowly opening her jaw, she gently wiggled it back and forth with a pitiful moan.
"...Oww," she slowly lifted her hand, pressing her fingers to the sore flesh. "What the h-hell hit me?"
"Are you alright?" Bracing his arm beside her, Red leaned further over the woman to see what he could of her pupils. "Let me look at your eyes, sweetheart. Lie still."
"I'm okay," Liz croaked. Gingerly peering out from behind her eyelids, she grimaced as a bright light burned into her corneas. "I think." She moaned weakly.
"No," Red halted her feeble attempt to sit upright. "No, let me check your eyes first." He said, then grimaced when he noted one was swelling shut before his very eyes. "What I can of them, anyway."
Taking the small pocket maglight Dembe handed him, Red waved it over the dazed blue orbs. The rapid beating of his heart calmed some when the pupils reacted positively to the light before closing once more.
"Too bright..." she grumbled as she eased into a more comfortable position. "Damn, Silas... is your hand packed with lead?"
"Elizabeth, dammit... I'm sorry." Silas sat back on his heels, leaning on his fists, his stare a concerned one.
Huffing quietly, Liz tittered. "It's okay... it's my own fault for looking away." She soothed the guy's guilt. "I know better when we're training. We'll have to work on distractions later, don't you think?"
"Yes, well," Red brushed away the hair stuck to her cheeks, "training is done for the day." He winced as red and purple splotches began to appear on her cheekbone. "By the look of things, possibly the next few days."
"Really, I'm okay." Liz welcomed Red's assistance as she struggled upright.
"Yeah, I can see that," Red said sarcastically, steadying her.
Giving the woman time to acclimate, Red stood, then helped ease Lizzy to her feet.
"Steven, if you could hurry along to the master suite and pull back the blankets, it would be most appreciated." Red asked. "Oh, and take those ice packs, if you would."
"Yes, sir." Steven hurried to do Red's bidding.
"Red, I don't want to lie down. I'm all sweaty." Liz complained.
"Just for a few minutes, please." Red cajoled. "You're far too unsteady for much else right now."
"Oh, he doesn't hit that hard." She lied gamely. "Don't think you do, either, Beard Boy."
Wrapping an arm around her waist, Red steadied her as she swayed about. "Let's get some ice on that eye." He steered her out the door.
"I just got knocked dizzy for a second." She said, then gripped his arm tightly as the dizziness returned in spades. "Maybe I will lie down a few minutes."
"Hey," Silas reached, helping Red keep the woman upright, "look at the bright side. Least I don't have to steal a hundred from Joe."
"You suck..." Liz grumbled, "on so many levels."
"Alright, you two, off to your separate corners." Red shooed Silas off, then bent to catch Lizzy behind the legs.
"I can walk," she protested even as Red hoisted her up against his chest, "... really. I can."
"Yes, well, at the rate we were going," Red kissed her brow, "a snail would have passed us, and I'd like you to kick back sometime today, if that's alright with you."
In moments, Red walked through into the master suite, passenger in tow.
Nodding his thanks to Steven, Red eased Lizzy down onto the mattress. "Thank you, Steven." He said, taking the ice packs handed him. "If you'd like to wait in my office, I'll be there shortly after I get Elizabeth settled."
"If you would prefer, we can reschedule? It's no problem, Mr. Reddington." Steven offered.
"No, today is fine." Red assured, then smiled warmly down at his wife snuggling into her pillow. "I think Rocky here will nap for a while."
"Tyson," Liz mumbled.
"Hmm?" Red asked as he slid Lizzy's sneakers and socks off.
"Silas said I was like Tyson." Liz clarified. "I thought Marciano until...I couldn't take a punch."
"Marciano was good cause he didn't let people punch him." Red quipped quietly to make her feel better. "Besides, you go for the throat, baby," he reminded, "not ears."
Snickering quietly at the exchange, Steven gestured to the door. "I'll just go wait in your office then, sir."
"You're welcome to the tv." Red offered. "I'll be there shortly."
"Thank you, sir," Steven said. "I hope you feel better soon, Mrs. Reddington."
"...Liz. Call me, Liz." She grumbled the reminder.
"Yes, ma'am." Steven nodded, then closed the door behind him.
"We alone?" Liz mumbled.
"Yep," Red replied as he placed an icepack behind her head.
Slowly rolling to her back, she lifted her bottom off the bed. "Take my pants off."
Thumbing the waist of her pants, he pulled the tight fabric down her legs. "I said nap, not fuck."
"I can't sleep in clothes anymore." She muttered. "You've spoiled me for the finer things in life."
"No baby, you spoiled me." He corrected and pulled her top off as well and smiled when she groaned her relief. "I do so love the view..."
Retreating to the bath, he hurriedly grabbed a couple of pills, then heated and soaped up a washcloth before making his way back to Lizzy's side.
"Here, take these." He handed her the Ibuprofen along with a cup of water.
Doing as bid, Liz lay back, suddenly exhausted. "I'm going to make Silas pay for this. I don't know how yet...but I will."
Washing down her tacky flesh, Red wiped away the traces of her workout before drying her with a hand towel.
"It's not a shower," he granted, "but it'll do until I get back to help you with the real thing."
"I can shower by myself." She frowned away any concern.
"Where the hell is the fun in that, woman?"
"You're right. You'll hear no complaints out of me." She yawned.
"That's a first..." he teased, then handed her a cold gel pack. "Turn on your side. That way you don't have to hold it."
Doing as suggested, Liz lay her cheek and eye against the cold surface and sighed her relief when the pillow held it in place. "Yeah, I'll get him back. Just you wait and see."
Turning on the fan overhead, Red pulled the blankets over her. His eyes softened as Lizzy melted further into the comfort provided. "I'll hold him down for you."
"We can't fuck?" She murmured tiredly.
Grinning, Red leaned over, kissing the corner of her mouth. "I'll tap that sweet ass later... after you rest."
"...Fine." She mumbled seconds before the sound of a soft snore broke the silence.
Smiling down at her once more, Red kissed her temple softly before leaving the woman to peaceful and pleasant dreams...he hoped, only if they were revenge filled epics of future retribution to a certain physical trainer.
LIZZINGTON
Walking down the hall, Liz pulled up short, noting the darkened interior of the office through the gap of the doorway. Frowning, she peered through the sliver and canted her head curiously when a muted flicker of light bounced along the wall.
More unusual was the low sound of a wispy guitar in the darkened space. The scratchy canned twang, reminiscent of records spinning on a Victrola, was at once both eerie and sorrowful, but oddly sensual. It felt from an unworldly place, but familiar... comforting in its nostalgia.
She knew that song. Visions of alone time in her room as an angsty teen came back full force, mellowing her soul.
Poking her head around the frame, Liz whispered softly. "Red? You in here?" If he was napping, she didn't want to disturb.
"Yeah, baby..." He murmured the reply, the mellow tone causing gooseflesh to rise on her arms. God, she loved that voice.
Stepping further into the room, Liz neared the man, watching Red snag the remote beside him, then shift his foot, which rested comfortably on the armrest. Inching closer, she noted his loosened tie and a dark blue icepack beneath his neck.
"You okay?" She moved closer to his prone form on the couch. "Your neck hurting again?" Her brow furrowed as she lightly caressed his with gentle fingertips.
"Little headache." He closed his eyes, lifting into the gentle touch. "Hum... that feels good."
Knowing Red's tolerance for pain, and his penchant for concealing injuries no matter how serious, she wondered if a normal person would classify the pain the man was experiencing as a slight nuisance or a full-blown migraine. It was difficult to tell with Red.
Sensing his wife's concern, and more so, her confusion for the unusual setting, Red's mouth tilted at the corner before peering up at her. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Just taking a little me time...or I was."
"Oh, I'm sorry." The woman felt horrible. "I'll just go and..."
Waving her closer, the man shifted, silently beckoning her to join him.
"I don't want to interrupt your quiet time." She grimaced, for she had done just so she knew.
"You are my quiet time."
The woman relented, for that sounded so wonderful and sincere. She slowly approached, giving him time to come up with an excuse if he so desired. He simply looked at her.
Smiling impishly, Liz eased over Red's body, wedging herself between the heated leather and his bulk. A surge of warmth encompassed her when the man's arms naturally curved around her form, pulling her closer.
Snuggling down beside him, she rubbed her cheek against his chest, sighing her contentment.
Aside from when they went to bed, cuddling on the couch with Red was fast becoming her favorite part of any day. To lie in the man's aura, surrounded by his strength? It got no better than this, in Liz's humble opinion.
Sharing Red's bed was intimate, but that he openly welcomed her to invade his private time... that was something else. In the midst of their crazy lives, the level of comfort Red offered without even trying was surreal, especially now, given the setting.
Stroking a gentle finger over the bruising on her face, Red placed a feather-light kiss to the marred flesh. "That looks painful." He winced for the woman. "Still hurting."
"I want to say Silas hits like a girl," she told the truth, "but it's more reality to state...he kicks like a mule." She smiled. "It's annoying more than anything though, that I let my guard down when he repeatedly tells me...keep alert." She mimicked the rough, tough rasp of the older man's tone.
"The swelling will be down by tomorrow." Red promised, then kissed the dark shading of her skin. "Your flesh is so soft and fragrant. It's a privilege to touch it." He tenderly traced the bruising, then smiled warmly. "Only you can make that look angelic."
"It's a gift..." she said, earning a quiet chuckle. Turning her ear towards the haunting tune playing quietly, she glanced up at the man. "I didn't know you liked Pink Floyd."
"I like them fine." He told the truth. "If you're asking if I chose the mood music, however...no, I did not." He explained the darkened room and atmosphere. "I thought I'd lay down and relax, Francis came in, and the rest is history...or infamy, not sure yet."
"Oh..." Liz giggled at the man's woeful tone. "I understand now." She commiserated, then shrugged. "Nothing wrong with a little music to unwind, though."
"No..." he inclined his head in agreement, "no, there's not."
"Then why do I sense irritation pouring off you in waves." She smothered a smile.
"I can't figure if Francis' little playlist was created to relax," grimacing, he adjusted the ice pack at his neck, "agitate...or arouse."
"Well, it's eclectic." Liz would give the young man that. "Arouse?"
"You just missed Bad Company." He explained.
"Which segued into..." Liz cringed, "what the hell, Red. This isn't even partially sane...is it?"
"I've been lying here trying to answer that question." Red confirmed.
"Okay, at least tell me he chose 'Feel Like Making Love'," she asked hopefully.
"He did..." Red soothed her nerves.
"Could have been worse." Liz mused.
"Oh, I know it." Red didn't doubt her observation for a moment. "Something in the vein of the Debby Boone sensation, 'You Light Up My Life," probably...knowing that kid."
Liz giggled, trying to stick that image in with Bad Company's suggestion.
"Francis would hear only the lyrics which motivated him, though." Red knew for certain. "Which makes his choice of music, or at least the order in which they're placed, so... disturbing."
Liz's giggle dissolved into a fit of laughter. Red's headache receded with the delightful sound.
"I heard him listening to 'Shaft' yesterday..." she mentioned, then shifted playful eyes to his mellow ones. "You know, he is the black private dick that's a sex machine to all the chicks."
"...I can dig it." Red intoned over Lizzy's quiet snort. "In any case, I'm confused." He said, motioning to the new song playing.
Turning her attention, Liz pinched her suddenly quivering lips and sniggered. "Knowing Francis as well as I do," she ventured a guess, "he'd add it to all his playlists. Weddings, baptisms... funerals. "
Raising a lazy fist in the air, Red nodded staunchly. "Free Bird..." His droll tone added to the effect. "He may have something there. We played it at our wedding, right?"
Nuzzling her nose into Red's chest, Liz muffled a gurgle of laughter when he lifted the remote and switched news channels. Briefly scanning the closed captioning, Red turned away and allowed a slow smile.
"No." She held her grin. "We did not."
"Now, that's what I'm talking about." Red rumbled his approval. "That's a song created to inspire decent lovemaking."
"Really? Aside from the lyrics being... about whatever the hell they're about. It seems like 'Let's Get it On' would be more fitting for... you know."
"Broaden your outlook, baby." The man nuzzled her nape lovingly, his low, soothing tone doing all sorts of nice things to her nerve endings.
She admitted she was surprised Red thought 'Kashmir' was perfect for sex.
"Kashmir is basically about a journey, maybe finding a higher plain... which lovemaking is, if done right, anyway." Red shared his thoughts. "Don't get me wrong, they're both perfect background for sex." He couldn't disagree. "But this..." he waved towards the sultry beat, "this tempo was made for man to lie back and watch his girl get off."
Fast snippets of late nights on lovers' lane flashed through his mind in rapid succession. Fogged windows and sweaty flesh caught in the lights of passing cars rapidly shifted to visions of Lizzy in the throes of passion.
Memories of Elizabeth's hazed sultry eyes staring back into his own as he swiped away her soft hair, damped with perspiration as it lay against her flush cheeks, and framing her parted mouth as it cried out in wild abandon, erased all else.
"And the other?" Liz cleared her throat, interrupting Red's pleasant train of thought with another.
"When he's aroused to the point, he needs to fuck her." Red confessed his thoughts on the matter.
Falling silent, Liz fought to control her breathing when Red nodded once, as though answering an internal question.
"Ah, right..." he mumbled, "I get it now."
"Get what?" Liz wondered.
"'Free Bird'..." Red explained. "It's perfect for cunnilingus. Starts slow and builds."
"Isn't..." Liz swallowed hard, "isn't that like... nine minutes long?"
"If you're paying attention, you really only need four... five minutes." Red confessed. "If a man is really good," he lowered his voice intimately, "he'll damn well use the full nine minutes, and use them wisely."
"Oh..." Liz's lashes fluttered in shock, awe, and sensuality.
Just thinking about gathering the stamina to match the hurried tempo seemed exhausting. Besides, she knew Red could, and did, get her off in less than five minutes flat. So... what could he possibly do for the remaining four minutes?
Unconsciously brushing his hand against Lizzy's hip, Red chuckled quietly. "For obvious reasons, making love to that song was a fantasy I had for years." He shared his personal thoughts. "About made it happen once until we heard her parents pull up."
"Are you sorry it never came to pass?" Liz asked breathlessly. Lying here, in the dark, with this man was a dream come true. With him sharing intimate revelations. Allowing her into his most private, secretive past was the truest intimacy there could ever be.
"Looking back now," Red mulled over the question, "no, not really. Granted, we were young and eager, and the orgasm would have been nice." He allowed. "But our lack of experience and sensuality... it would have marred the fantasy, I think."
"I get what the kid is trying to convey." Red had pondered the enigma that was Francis Holbrook.
"If I am correct, the next song should be...Whole Lotta Love."
But no one could predict or explain or understand the workings of Francis' mind. For what came over the speakers was KC and Sunshine Band. 'Keep it Coming Now'.
Liz's face was priceless, and even Red laughed at the absurdity of the moment.
"What is wrong with that man, Red?" The woman had to ask, her sigh one of total vexation and pique. She had no choice but to listen to the pounding, relentless rhythm and suddenly...the small, slender shoulders started moving.
Red stifled his laugh, enjoying the sensual feel of the woman's body moving to the beat.
"I don't know though..." She continued to gyrate to the imaginative tempo. Her hands waved about, like any good disco dancer...her head bobbing here and there. "He may have something here."
"He certainly does." Red moved closer to the erotic swell of those amazing hips...
Hearing the distinct sound of boots stomping down the hall, Red turned towards the door seconds before it flew inward.
Had Silas' thunderous scowl not taken center stage, the twangy boing of the door ramming against the doorstop spring would have been amusing.
"You fix this... right now!" Silas jammed his index finger Liz's way.
"What!" Liz frowned up at Red, pouting prettily. "What did I do!"
"Samar won't answer my calls!" Silas spat the reason for his vitriol.
Resting his head on the crook of his arm, Red silently watched the war waging with a heavy sigh.
Considering he, along with any other sane person, knew everything that occurred that fateful day, was Silas' own damn fault... Red couldn't wait to hear how Silas twisted everything in his warped mind so that it was now all on Lizzy's shoulders.
"How is that my problem!" Liz demanded.
"Because," Silas seethed, "it's your fault any of this happened, you twit! And what the fuck is that song playing?"
"It's actually the original Hillside Singer version of the Coca Cola ad that took the world by sensation in 1971." Red supplied the answer needed. "Not the actual single, mind you...which did well on its own, but not as impactful as the ad."
"Oh, Red. You are so smart about trivia. I didn't know any of that." Liz looked up at him adoringly.
"Fuck all that!" Silas snapped. "I am talking here!"
"You need to have a Coke and a smile, Silas." Red remarked.
The burly guard was not amused. "You know what you need to do, Red?"
"Teach the world to fuck in perfect harmony?" Red suggested quietly.
Gasping her shock, Liz pushed up from Red's chest, her mouth agape, all said just now computing. "My fault! How the hell is your failure my fault! You're the one who opened his big ass mouth and spouted off!"
With the ball thrown back into his court, Red shifted his attention to the angrily pacing guard... waiting patiently.
"Pray tell," Red wanted to know, "how is it Elizabeth's fault you can't keep your dick in your pants, nor your mouth shut?"
"Had Red sold you to gypsies as a child like I advised..." Silas narrowed his eyes, grating the words, "you would have been traipsing around the Russian countryside in a caravan instead of working for the FBI," he continued his tirade, "therefore, I would have never set eyes on her."
"Yeah..." Liz flashed fiery eyes at the man, "until you saw her in some seedy bar in Dubai, you slut!"
"The chances of that happening would have been astronomical," Red remarked solely to himself, but both heard him well enough, "...but entirely plausible given the nature of their work."
Waving the man off with an irritable hand, Silas focused his ire back where it belonged. "You should have told me about what that numbnut Francis did!"
"In her defense," Red defended his wife, "Lizzy didn't know what Francis did... or didn't do in this case."
"What the hell do you mean, she didn't know!" Silas glared at the woman. "Francis tells her every sordid detail of every stupid ass thing he's ever done!" He shivered his revulsion. "I know firsthand as I've unfortunately been witness to most of it!"
"From what I'm gathering, to his way of thinking," Red explained, "Francis doesn't think anything did happen, sordid or otherwise."
"What the hell does he know!" Silas scoffed, "I'll tell you what he knows. Not one damned thing."
"All Francis believes he may have done wrong," Red clarified Francis' point of view, "is that he treaded into your territory."
"He did trespass on my property!" Silas snapped. "And I think, because Francis tells her everything, he told her! So, did he, or did he not say anything!" He demanded to know.
"Well..." Liz bit her thumbnail, grimacing.
"Well... what!" Silas bitched.
Liz's nose crinkled. "He didn't exactly tell me anything, but–"
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean!" Silas' face darkened to a vivid maroon color.
"Well... see, Red told me," Liz began, completely missing Silas glaring daggers at her husband, "Francis kissed Samar and–"
"You knew!" Silas raged. "You saw that freak of nature kiss her and did nothing!"
"I believe at the time, I was unaware you had fully committed yourself to Samar, and vice versa." Red explained. "You stated as much when we left the Blacksite. You said you were upset you had not made your intentions clear."
"I was on my way to Anya, dammit!" Silas remembered. "It was a given I was distracted!"
"Yes," Red knew that, "but in the past, you made similar plans to... move forward, only to renege in the end."
Clamping his jaw tight, Silas seethed quietly a moment before glaring once more at Liz. "Is that the extent of your disloyalty to me?"
Grimacing slightly, Liz cast a glance Red's way. "...Well..."
"Oh my God!" Silas tossed his arms out at his side. "You didn't think any of this was important enough to mention!"
"I wasn't sure anything happened!" Liz defended herself. "All we heard was Francis apologizing for..." she trailed away, realizing just how awful her next intended statement would sound.
"What the hell!" Silas waved a hand to continue. "You tell me what that moron did!"
"Well," Liz once again...very slowly and carefully began relating the sordid details, "he, uh... apologized for, uh... sticking something in, uh... Samar's eye."
Rubbing his hand across his brow, Red groaned, finally realizing what it was Lizzy was referring to.
More so, he felt a tad concerned Silas could turn that shade of purple, which was so unbecoming to a guy's features.
"Excuse the hell out of me?" Silas' voice took on a raspy, murderous quality. "I..." he stammered, "I-I don't know whether to be livid and go on a killing rampage or be fucking embarrassed on behalf of the entire male species."
"It's not what you think." Red rolled his eyes. "It was all just a gigantic misunderstanding. When we shared the RV, in Canada," he clarified, "we thought we heard Francis and Samar enjoying a rousing round of... Scrabble..." Yeah, that would suffice for the telling of the tale.
"Yes. Yes, I believe that is exactly what they were doing." Liz nodded eagerly, wanting to hear all those sordid details mentioned just as much as the next guy, truth told. But she tried very hard not to show as much, for she felt Silas' eyes glaring a hole through her forehead.
"She better not have been sucking him off!" Silas warned. "I'll fucking kill him for that alone, I swear to God!"
"It was nothing like that!" Letting his head fall back into the pillow, Red sighed. "What was really happening was totally innocent in nature." He shrugged slightly. "They didn't want to disturb us, so they were making S'mores in the dark."
Even Liz narrowed her eyes at that one. She could have come up with something better than that!
"Excuse the hell out of me?" Silas wasn't buying it either, if his expression was any criteria by which to judge. "Is that what it's called nowadays?"
"Francis went to hand the finished product over to Samar," Red explained it the way Francis had, but he hoped with more clarity," and... he accidentally got her in the eye. The cracker part, I mean."
The silence was not only thick, it was deafening.
Liz's expression was a comically awry one.
Silas' was dark and forbidding.
"Are you telling me," Liz gaped, "Silas fucked up things over that!"
"Elizabeth..." Red groaned his misery. "Perhaps there is a better way to..."
"Well, he did." Liz pointed a scolding finger Silas' way. "Not me!"
"You want me to pop you again..." Silas seethed, shaking a fist in the air.
"You want to die?" Red countered, then sobered. "Yes, we know. It was Silas that royally fucked up." He shot the guard a steely look that oddly silenced the vocally protesting man. "But... Lizzy, maybe this can all be salvaged with a little careful planning and execution on everyone's part."
Silas shifted a calmer stare. "What are you talking about?"
"Say..." Red shrugged his shoulders, "perhaps... if you could make some casual plans with Samar to go on a girl's day out thing?" The man grasped at straws, seeking out his wife. "Maybe Silas, as your head guard, in the process of performing his regular duty...could go along on said outing. Which would place Samar and Silas in close proximity." He warmed to the notion. "Silas you, then, could move the situation along with your charm and charisma, say..."
That part was iffy, but it's all Red had at that exact moment.
One could see the wheels start to turn in the large man's head. His body language relaxed. His mood altered slightly as he pondered the possibilities. "I just need a moment to..." he trailed away, those blue-gray eyes hopeful now as he sought out Liz's reaction.
"Fine, but I don't have to like it," huffing her irritation, Liz patted her pockets in search of her phone, "... or agree with it."
"This may come as a shock," Silas grumbled, "but no one asked for your opinion."
"Maybe you should have," Liz grumbled right back, "otherwise, you wouldn't be in this predicament... you dumbass."
"Quiet," lifting the remote, Red scowled at the bickering pair, his attention intent on the breaking news report bulletin, "both of you."
Raising the volume on the tv, Red watched as the screen flashed and a harried, but stoic reporter came into view.
"We have received unconfirmed reports Congressman Robert Taylor's daughter, Emily, has allegedly been reported as missing." Red's eye twitched when a picture of the girl, aged about seventeen, came into view. "The teenager is said to have disappeared from Congressman Taylor's retreat at Rehoboth Beach."
Shifting his attention Silas' way, Red watched the guard as the news was related. After their lives had been upended, and Red secured financing to bank their lifestyle, Silas had taken a keen interest in search and rescue of missing children.
Which, in turn, made such missions a priority for the entire unit.
Silas took it to a whole other level, for which Red was proud. He knew, without question, Silas would investigate this matter and handle the issue if it were warranted. Or even if it was not. Which was often the case when amateurs handled such matters.
That Red and Silas both considered the methods employed by the FBI decidedly ineffectual when dealing in such cases was a well-known and stated fact.
In any case, seeing the pretty girl, Red hoped in this instance Taylor's daughter had runway, as opposed to the alternative. With people in the world like Floriana Campo, the odds were loaded against any missing child these days.
"We have just received confirmation..." The reporter paused, clearly listening via her earpiece as new information was relayed directly on air.
"Early, and very inconclusive reports," the reporter covered the network's ass for speculative reporting, "indicate a break-in at the home."
As expected, the camera on the reporter segued to another outside the Congressman's weekend retreat.
Lights from the dozen or so cop cars present drew attention to the busted lock on the front door, along with what appeared to be a bullet hole along the top of the doorframe.
Though, upon closer examination, it looked to Red, it was possibly an exit site.
"Guard, maybe?" Silas, having noticed what Red had, motioned then tapped the screen, showing the bullet damage left behind.
"Possibly..." Red scanned what he could of the property.
"...We will relate more as it becomes available." The reporter said in conclusion.
"Red," Liz said, "I could call the Blacksite, see if they have any info on–"
"No," Red hastily adopted a smile and kissed her brow, "what you're going to do is call Samar and set up a time to meet. Maybe tomorrow? Then I want you to pack an overnight bag."
"Overnight bag?" Liz frowned. "Oh, are we going to..." she motioned to the tv.
"No, I had made reservations for dinner at Alhambra," Red confessed, "but I think," he smiled warmly, tracing her blackened eye, "perhaps we might have take away and stay at the Silverlake estate."
Liz's cheeks flushed, vividly recalling the last time they visited the Silverlake home on their first date. Images of them making love the first time flashed through her mind in vivid, sensual technicolor.
Offering her guard a piercing glare for missing out on private dining at Alhambra's, Liz returned her attention, offering her husband a contented smile. "I love that place."
"Yes," Red confirmed, then patted her behind. "Maybe wear your new dress." He suggested, earning a small secretive smile. "Just because we're dining in, doesn't mean we can't dine in style." He kissed her brow. "Now, go on... get ready. I'll be along in a moment."
Lifting to her toes, she gave Red a lingering kiss before dropping back. Sending her guard another surly glare, she turned on her heel and flounced from the room.
"Turn it back up." Red motioned as the reporter appeared once more.
"Reports state the disappearance of Congressman Taylor's daughter has officially been listed as a kidnaping. One guard is currently in the ICU in critical condition," the reporter read quickly, "another was killed in the line of duty."
"Once Lizzy and I reach Silverlake, I'm going silent for the night." Red forewarned. "I will check in later, however, for any news." He said as he gathered up his phone and scotch. "I am correct in assuming you will stay on top of this?" He motioned to the situation at hand.
"It's not as if I have anything better to do." Silas grumbled.
"Even if you did," Red knew the man well enough, "you'd still want to find that girl."
LIZZINGTON
Easing back into his chair, Red felt all the tension from the day vanish as he watched Lizzy tear into her dessert with a smile.
Considering the unexpected change in venue, everything had turned out alright in the end.
It was a hectic day like any other. Red lived in a world of fast decisions, vast territories to manage and thousands of people he had to keep happy. It got tiring after so many years.
Knowing Lizzy would be disappointed, Red enlisted the Head Chef at Alhambra's to prepare a dinner for a romantic evening in. After which, Red called Antonio in hopes of securing assistance to ready the Silverlake estate for their stay.
Trusting Antonio would ensure all would be ready by the time they arrived, Red conferred with Steven for another half -hour, answering any questions to be had. Though Steven appeared eager and ready to begin crunching numbers, he sent the boy on his way for the day.
Being able to manage small crises somehow settled his mind.
Now, as he sat here surrounded by candlelight, soft music, and his beautiful wife... all else faded into the background.
Antonio's people had done a wonderful job creating a romantic and secluded atmosphere. Even before they entered the house, as they pulled up in the large porte cochere, the warm glow of the chandelier and fireplace reflected in the windows was a most warming greeting.
Once they walked in, they were assaulted by the crisp scent of roses and an elegant place setting on the table. An expensive wine sat open and breathing, awaiting their approval. The aromatic smells of dinner being kept warmed in the oven made it seem easy enough to leave their troubles at the door.
He could only guess what surprises awaited them in the bedroom.
While much of their conversation revolved around how stupid Silas was, and how excited Lizzy was to go shopping with Maria... Red had enjoyed the evening immensely.
It was nice to relax and speak of trivial matters with his wife at the end of the day. That they did so in complete solitude, sharing a delicious meal, without one interruption, was even more perfect.
Though he tried with great difficulty to not think about it, he couldn't help but feel concerned for the Congressman's daughter. He also silently wondered if the emergency phone may ring and interrupt their evening because their presence was needed. All he could do was hope beyond hope all would be well until morning.
He was being selfish, he knew. A child's welfare came above all else. He also knew Silas was doing everything that could be done in the meantime before any serious decisions and plans were executed.
Before Lizzy took precedence in his life, he, along with his band of merry men, would have started the hunt for the girl once they saw the report.
Now, it all rested on Dembe and Silas' vast experience to handle issues in his absence.
"You thinking about the girl?" Liz asked before scooping up a dollop of whipped chocolate.
"Not really, no," Red replied. "Dembe and Silas can handle it."
"I know that." Liz trusted both men implicitly. "But you can't help wondering when the ball might drop." She understood Red's silence for what it was and loved him all the more for his concern.
"Lizzy, you are all that matters to me tonight..." Red stressed the words, and his assurances, "and every day that follows."
"I know." Her cheeks plumped with her smile. "I think, though," she reached, clasping his hand in her smaller one, "your heart is big enough to care for me and the girl."
Sighing, Red frowned at the thought Lizzy had read him so well, and tonight of all nights. This was supposed to be their time, alone and away from the world. Why the hell he let outside forces interrupt–
"Red," Liz she said, squeezing his hand, "if you didn't let a corner of your mind allow those thoughts, even during our private time... I don't think I'd love you as much as I do."
Smiling, Liz rubbed her fingers lovingly along his. "It's moments like this, when you reveal the humanity you think you've lost, that remind me why I married you." She confessed. "You've had to adapt to the world in which you were thrown," she continued, "and think because of what you've done to survive that hell, it's made you a monster."
Lowering his eyes, he traced her wedding ring with restless fingers. "Hasn't it..." He murmured.
"No," Liz disagreed. "If anything, I believe it's made you appreciate humanity, and all its foibles, like only so few can. You have a degree of patience and perseverance I can only hope to achieve in my lifetime."
"I don't know about that," Red lifted her hand to his mouth, placing a tender kiss on her delicate fingers. "I'd say, you're doing a hell of a job achieving your goal, especially when you consider all you have to contend with, being married to me."
She could paint it however she wished, but at the end of the day... it wasn't a walk in the park being married to him. He was sure there were perks, but still, it had to be difficult.
"You're okay. I can handle you." She winked, then sneered playfully. "It's the company you keep that's lacking."
Flipping her hand in his, Red chuckled as he kissed her palm. "I'm gonna tell Francis you think he's white-trash."
"Tell him something he doesn't know... or think is a badge of honor." Liz rolled her eyes. "The point I'm trying to make is... stop feeling guilty." Her eyes softened.
Rubbing his fingers hard against his brow, he remained silent, allowing Lizzy to have her say.
"You know as well as I do, I've had your undivided attention all evening, regardless of whatever else had been on your mind." She knew Red better than he thought. "I bet you could repeat all I said, verbatim, and share the thoughts you had when I first mentioned everything."
What she said was true, he knew that. Still, shouldn't a man be able to focus completely on his wife and nothing else?
"Do you think less of me, or believe I don't love you because I'm creating a shopping list when we're lounging in bed in the morning?" She asked seriously.
"No, of course not." Red frowned. "Someone has to do it." He teased. "I'm a man. I'd forget to bring the list."
"Then why would you believe I think any less of you because you care for the welfare of a child caught in a terrifying situation while we're chatting over dinner?" Liz looked pointedly at the man.
Red fell silent, mulling over all that was said, ever so glad he had found such a woman.
"Your silence is enough for me." Liz said as she pushed her chair back. "Now, I'm going to get the dishwasher going," she began gathering their plates, "and you're going to call Dembe and Silas to get an update." She suggested. "Once you're through, and if everything is okay," she looked down at him with a smile, "why don't you get a drink and relax while I freshen up... and we'll see where the evening takes us."
Nodding, Red accepted her kiss. Watching her walk away, he eventually shoved back from the table and grabbed his phone as he retreated to the bar for a drink, as Lizzy suggested.
The sooner he put his mind at ease, the better for all involved.