Well…now what?

For the rest of the night, with the sounds of the bar patrons stomping around up above, Liz pondered that question.

She cleaned up her dishes, used the bathroom, and returned to the main room. Red puttered about in more or less the same fashion. They seemed to share a mutual silent understanding of each other's need for a moment to process their most recent exchange. Liz poured another glass of wine. Red poured another scotch. She went back to her cards, he went back to his book.

Her mind was working furiously, though, committing every single sensation of the last few minutes into her memory, searing them into her brain—his sounds, his smells and tastes, textures, and style. She reveled in her newfound memories, held them up in her mind and examined them like Christmas ornaments.

Much later, she then pondered Red's every utterance, going over them again and again in her head. His words about remembering them when it was all over had nearly broken her heart. How could she NOT remember? She shivered. Liz knew there would be no going back if they did this…but of course, he was thinking for the long term—Red always had his long game in play. He was right, however, to assume that she had not really thought about the long term.

Not that the prospect frightened her—Liz wasn't sure what their future held, but she was sure Red would be a part of it even after they finished their stint on the run. Would they have to keep their relationship quiet if she ever returned to the FBI? Probably. But what Red didn't understand was that she was not going back without him. That was the deal. They were going to be both reinstated, or she wasn't having it.

There was no point in telling Red this right now. He would insist, of course, that she should be the focus of their work, and he was perfectly fine with being a criminal and taking the fall. No, this would be her own mission, and it was one she would only be able to accomplish once she was reinstated. Only then could she insist that Reddington be reissued his immunity, and if they refused, she would walk. The FBI could be corrupted, but she would not be. Reddington had more than atoned for his past crimes; his immunity was only fair.

And despite the circumstances being less than ideal, they were the same circumstances that had freed her and allowed her this chance to get closer to him.

She wasn't sure how to explain to him that being here, spending this time with him, getting to know him in this intimate space, was a rare, precious experience for her, and she was cherishing it. Somehow, he made everything seem like some grand adventure—even the most mundane and dire circumstances were lightened with his presence and participation—their present situation, especially. The world was limitless when she was with him, and she didn't have to hold back anymore.

But how was she going to convince him of that?

She looked over at his side of the room. He was watching her. He didn't look away, but he did have the decency to look somewhat chagrined. Liz smiled at him, warmly at first, and then wistfully. It was a shame he was being so strident about all of this. Before she'd dream molested him, he'd let her curl up next to him, sleep in his bed. She wanted that contact again. She wanted to touch as much of him as she possibly could, for as long as he would let her.

Her expression must have changed along with the direction of her thoughts, because Red tilted his head at her, his expression adoring. She came back to the present and met his gaze. They stayed like that for a moment, each observing the other, communicating small, sweet messages with their micro-expressions. He suddenly smiled at her, put his hand beneath his chin and sighed dramatically as though he could stare at her all night. She was forced to roll her eyes and look down again at her cards, lest he realize his corny behavior was making her blush and that she actually did want him to stare at her all night, and also to hide her irritation at his hypocritical flirtations—no doubt he would turn her down if she attempted to take things to the next level.

Eventually she brushed her teeth and got into her bed. She lay facing the wall, partly because Red was still reading with the lights on, and partly because it felt like privacy, even though it wasn't. She amused herself by imagining them together in Dubai and wondered what Red's safe house there would be like. He said they would be able to sit tight there for awhile and establish a base of operations. Hopefully it wouldn't be the kind of "sitting tight" they were doing here. Maybe with the change of scenery he would be a little less guarded

She dozed off fairly quickly, considering how much she had on her mind. She had no idea what time it was when someone kicked in the closet door overhead.

Instantly she was awake, terrified and scrambling to see where Red was.

He was up, gun in hand, switching off the lights quickly. She jumped up and grabbed her own weapon from it's holster. The bathroom light was still on, and it was just enough for Liz to see Red run to her and reach for her in the dark. She grabbed his proffered hand and he pulled her along behind him and they moved into place behind the staircase. Red positioned himself in front and in harm's way, just as he had before.

"Hey man!" they heard a man slur directly above them. "Where the fuck is the toilet?"

"You aren't supposed to be in here," they heard someone say.

"Then where'm I supposed to be?" some gargantuan drunkard above them countered.

"The bathrooms are over there!" a female's voice hollered.

Liz squeezed Red's hand reassuringly in the dark. It was okay. She leaned forward until her forehead was pressed into the center of his back. Together they listened to the shuffle above. Eventually the drunkard was shown the proper location of the bathrooms, the door to the closet above was closed, and everything was quiet once again.

Only then did she realize how hard her heart was beating and how much adrenaline was in her system. She was shaking with it.

Red began to turn around, and she stepped back to accommodate his motion. Then she pressed her face into his chest as soon as he was facing her and wrapped her arms around him tightly, still holding her gun with one hand. Red reciprocated the embrace, wrapping his arms around her. It was then Liz noticed the reek of scotch. Red must have been pounding it down the second she went to sleep. He was leaning against her just a bit.

"That was scary," she breathed into the buttons on the front of his shirt.

"Yes," his nose and breath were in her hair, and he clutched her a little more tightly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she moved her head into the crook of his neck and exhaled on the sensitive flesh purposefully, taking advantage of the opportunity afforded her.

"Lizzie," he growled warningly.

"No," she growled back.

Tucking her weapon into the waistband of her sweatpants and grabbing the collar of his shirt, she used all of her strength to turn them both and push Red up against the wall behind them, hard, keeping her hand behind his head to spare him any impact.

"Lizzie," he groaned, this time with a completely different inflection, and she silenced him with her lips against his, kissing him frantically, slanting her mouth over his again and again, knowing any minute he might push her away and come to his senses.

She ran her hands over his broad barrel chest and across his shoulders. He was solid and strong. She rubbed up against him instinctively and he moaned softly, grabbing her hips so hard she thought he might leave bruises. He pulled her pelvis against his roughly and she gasped against his mouth. He pressed his lips against hers briefly, then moved in to nuzzle her neck. She almost giggled, running her nails over his scalp and clutching at his shoulders, leaning her full weight against him to keep him pinned to the wall.

"You were crazy to think I wouldn't touch you until after we'd taken down the Cabal," she whispered against his ear. Red sighed almost defeatedly against her neck. "I know you're worried," she whispered, reaching up to cup his face with both hands and bringing his eyes up to meet hers, "about what's going to happen once we get out there. I know you want to protect me, and you think you would be taking advantage of the situation, and of me…" he was still and quiet under her touch, taking her words seriously, his eyes focused on her closely. She looked up at him and smiled, running her thumbs affectionately over his jawline on either side. "Such a gentleman," she sighed adoringly, despite the frustration his gentlemanly behavior caused her.

Then, she got up on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek and whisper into his ear, "But I'm so worried about what will happen if we don't take advantage of this time together."

She came down on her heels and looked up at him beseechingly. "One bullet, that's all it takes," she whispered to him in the semi-dark, and he clutched at her reflexively at the thought. "I'm already terrified of loosing you, Red…it's so much worse now to think it could happen on top of…everything else. I can't breathe when I think of it."

"I know," his voice was gruff. "I know."

He held her close for a moment, and she held him back purely for comfort, wishing he would say something more. After a minute, he pressed a quick kiss to her head and moved away from her. She sighed in disappointment.

"I'll be right back," he reassured her, then stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. He was still holding his gun.

She moved back to her bed and started to straighten the covers she'd flung off earlier at the sound of the door above. Tears sprang into her eyes. She had forgotten how much danger they were still in. She blinked and wiped her eyes futilely. So foolish…

Red emerged from the bathroom dressed in his sleeping clothes, clearly prepared for bed. Liz hid her face from him, re-holstering her weapon and finishing straightening her own bed. Of course he could sleep after that—Red was a pro, and she was a child crying at scary noises in the middle of the night.

She startled at the sudden touch of his hand on her shoulder. She hadn't heard him approach. She turned, conscious of her watery eyes and red nose.

He looked apprehensive. He appraised her critically and chewed on the inside of his cheek, working over something in his head.

"What is it?" she sighed, bracing herself.

"Would you…?" he grimaced and looked down at the floor. She took a small step closer and touched his arm tentatively. He reached up to clasp her hand, squeezing it as he met her gaze.

"Stay with me," he finished, almost a command instead of a request. She felt her eyebrows go up and her mouth pull into a small smile. "I need to…hold you," he ground out. "That's it," he added warningly, just to be clear.

"Okay," she nodded. Still holding his hand, she grabbed her pillow with her other one as he walked them to the other side of the room. Taking her pillow from her, he gave it a courteous fluff before placing it next to his. She smiled at his silliness as he made a grand gesture of pulling back the covers and motioning for her to get in. She slid herself across the mattress and tucked herself up against the wall.

"Hello, old friend," she whispered fondly, patting the bed beneath her and causing Red to snort indelicately with laugher as he crawled in next to her. He lay on his back and reached out for her. She curled up against his side and put her head on his chest, marveling once again at how nicely they fit together.

His arms were both around her at once, tight, clutching at her in something like relief. She shifted them both, truly understanding now what he'd meant when he said he needed to hold her. She moved upwards and cradled his head to her chest, both of her arms tight around him as well, one at his neck and one around his back. He sighed in both relief and contentment and relaxed against her. Eventually, once she was focused on the idea of comforting him and not on the thrill of his touch, she was able to relax as well.

"I let myself have too much to drink," he muttered to her collarbone. "I was desperate. You fell asleep and all I could think about was crawling in next to you. I couldn't get the thought out of my head."

Liz smirked against him. "That's awfully pervy of you, Mr. Reddington." She chuckled but he didn't. She stopped and tilted her head in the dark, trying to study his face.

"That door came open, and I couldn't react quickly enough," he shook his head against her.

"On a scale of one to ten, how drunk are you now?" she asked, surprised. "You were up and moving before I even sat up."

"Six," he sighed. "But earlier? Eight. I just completely forgot why we're here…"

"Me too," she whispered.

"I was so distracted…" he shuddered. "What if…"

"I know," she breathed and held him a little more tightly.

"We can't afford to be distracted right now, Lizzie," he rumbled, pulling away from her and sitting up a little bit so she could see that he was serious. "We have to be so careful."

Liz held back her response and took a moment to show him that she was considering his words, but then she shook her head and smiled in vain. "It's too late," she sighed ruefully. "I'm already distracted."

She leaned in and pressed a sweet, tender kiss to his cheek. He closed his eyes and savored it, and she remembered his story about another woman who had once kissed his cheek, "like a burst of sunlight on his face." She grinned to herself to think that she could have such an effect on him. She tucked herself in tightly against him, hugging him to her and likewise savored the rare moment of contact and the simple pleasure of showing him affection.

"Tell me about Dubai," she whispered against his shirt when they'd been silent together for a few moments.

"What would you like to know?" he whispered back, looking down at her, bemused.

"Everything. I've never been there," she sighed. "Will it be safe to go sight-seeing? I'd like to see the Burj Khalifa."

Red looked awestruck.

"Yes…Of course!" he practically crowed. "Oh, we could have so much fun!" then he sobered. "It will be safer there too, for us," he added somewhat ironically. Liz was once again reminded of their precarious status as fugitives and sighed, feeling guilty for trying to enjoy anything when the reality was so serious.

After a minute of somber silence, however, Red spoke again as though he just had to say something or burst. "You know I've arranged for new identities and papers for us to travel under, Lizzie, but you'll also have your own accounts too…sweetheart, wait until you see the stores!"

She laughed at his eager tone. "You know where all the good ones are, of course," she chuckled.

"Of course," came the haughty response beneath her cheek. She grinned and slid her hand over his t-shirt to squeeze his shoulder on the other side.

"And you'll show me where they are?" she teased. "So I can spend all your money in them?"

"Of course," he replied nonchalantly, but he was smiling, she could tell. "I'll even hold your bags and fetch you sizes…"

"You're ridiculous," she chuckled, embarrassed by how temptingly good the prospect sounded. "You make this sound like vacation. Aren't we supposed to be avoiding distractions, Red?" she chided him gently and pressed a small kiss to his chest. "Besides, you'll spoil me and I'll become insufferable, and then we'll have to get divorced."

Red laughed, then groaned at the idea and shook his head above her.

"No, that would never happen. You've suffered too much to become insufferable, Elizabeth." He was serious for a moment. "It would please me to no end if I could make this experience even the slightest bit less unpleasant for you…I'm delighted to think for even a minute that you would take advantage of the opportunity," he paused for a minute, then leaned in and whispered impishly in her ear, "Let's go see the Burj Khalifa, Lizzie! You and me, let's do it!"

"Okay!" she whispered back fiercely, tears springing into her eyes. "Okay."

"Okay," he repeated and settled in as she blinked and sniffed discreetly. "Good night," he squeezed her to him and kissed the top of her head. She reciprocated the affection, but frowned at the platonic, fatherly delivery. Pulling away from him and nimbly moving upward, she held his chin lightly and pressed her mouth against his for the briefest, sweetest moment, then pulled away before he could protest or respond—she wasn't sure which.

"Thank you," she murmured into his ear, settling against him once more.

"For what?"

"For fixing everything, and making it all seem like one big adventure," she reached across his chest and squeezed him gratefully. "This shouldn't be fun, but it is because I'm with you."

He didn't say anything for the longest time, and she wondered if she had said something wrong, but she could hear his heart pounding beneath her ear. "Thank you, Elizabeth," he whispered eventually, and Liz could feel his gratitude for her words. "Let's get some sleep."

They lay together silently for a little while, each lost in thought and comforted by the presence of the other. Eventually Liz could tell by his breathing that Red had dozed off. She shifted slightly in his unconscious embrace, and he responded by grasping her more tightly. Liz laughed to herself, got comfortable, and for the second time in her life, fell asleep in his arms.