Their dinner that evening was fish and chips and fresh green salads. Newly showered and feeling good about life, Liz dug into her food with zeal. There was tartar sauce for the fish, and she applied a liberal amount to her plate before offering it to Red.
"No thank you," Red turned up his nose at the condiment. "A good piece of well-fried fish should never need a dipping sauce, Lizzie," he sniffed.
"Gordon Ramsey would disagree with you," Liz smirked. "And he's from England—they're all about fish and chips there, I've heard."
"English food—or rather their notion of it—is abysmal, Elizabeth. Everyone knows that," Red scoffed. "Now, eat your bland mayonnaise fish."
Liz laughed and reached for his hand to squeeze it. He returned the gesture with a twinkle in his eye. They finished their meals and binned the dirty dishes.
"I'll be out in a few minutes," Red kissed her lightly and went to take his shower.
While he was gone, Liz opened a bottle of wine she knew he would like and poured a glass for herself. It was good, as always, and smiled to herself at the memory of Red bringing this case of wine down into their cellar hideout. Leave it to Reddington make sure they had something decent to tide them over while they languished down here.
Speaking of which, Liz turned on the tiny TV and watched the previews for the six-thirty news shows on the major news networks. There was no mention of either of them in the headlines. The old TV had twelve channels on it. Liz turned the knob gently and cycled through the offerings. On one channel, the movie "Aliens" was in the first few minutes, so Liz left it there.
Red really was out of the shower in a few minutes-mostly, he mused, because he wasn't trying to avoid Lizzie in there this time. He was dressed in dark cotton pants and a white t-shirt. He found her on their bed with a glass of wine, watching television.
"What's on?" he asked, pouring his own wine into the fresh glass she left out for him.
"Aliens!" she crowed and patted the bed next to her.
"Excellent!" he chuckled. "In line with today's theme."
He settled into the bed next to her and she immediately buried her face in her chest, inhaling deeply.
"Jesus Christ," she groaned, half collapsing against him. "I love you, Raymond," She pulled him close, then made a sudden sound of frustration and leaned away from him. "Goddammit," she muttered under her breath.
"What?" he chuckled.
"Well," she sighed. "I want to, but…I just don't know if I can physically have sex with you again right now," she shook her head in embarrassment and avoided his eye contact.
"Sensitive? Tender?" he asked smugly. She swatted him lightly. "I understand," he sniggered. "I'm having a similar problem."
"Chaffing?" she queried playfully.
"Not hardly, you slippery female," Red intoned seductively.
"Stop!" Liz wheezed at his intimation, her cheeks burning painfully. She gulped some of her wine and covered her face in mortification.
"No, my situation is more slightly bruised and limp in nature," he went on, seemingly oblivious to her agonized groan. "I'll need at least another hour to recuperate, my love. I'm sorry," he put his arm around her and kissed the top of her damp hair. "Oh! Unless, of course, you'd like me to use my mouth on your hard, little…"
"Oh my god, will you please stop!" Liz cried, trying not to laugh and further encourage him while clamping her legs together to ward off the painful arousal. "Just watch this stupid movie with me!"
"If you insist, Lizzie, but the offer stands!" he was giddy in her ear. "Anywhere, anytime you like, I will lay you down and put my face between your legs—you have but only to ask!"
"Great, then maybe I'll return the favor," Liz rounded on him, goaded into battle. "Maybe I'll take those handcuffs from our getaway uniforms and restrain you down here, on this bed, exactly where I want you."
Red's eyes narrowed and she heard his breath hitch.
"Yeah, that's right," she crooned. "You. Right here. Cuffed down. No clothes, and no one to stop me from edging you for hours," she breathed in his ear. "Until you cry…"
Red felt his abused cock twitch hopefully, painfully. He had to stop himself from grabbing hold of it. He looked to the ceiling for strength.
"You've made your point, Elizabeth," he growled, settling back against the pillows with his glass of wine.
"You forced my hand, Raymond," she chided him lightly and settled back against him with her glass as well.
"Give me an hour, you little tease," he muttered under his breath into the top of her head. She smirked, but let him have the last word.
They enjoyed the movie together, even managing to cuddle with affection instead of lust. Red opened a second bottle of wine at around the time Ripley and Newt woke up in the lab with the face-hugger aliens, and Liz joined him, happily clinking her glass with his.
"Ahh, I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed this movie," Red chuckled at one point.
"Did you see it when it came out?" she asked, curious.
"I was deployed in the demilitarized zone between North and South Korea at the time, and I saw it in Incheon while I was on shore leave for Christmas," he responded conversationally. "It's actually a pretty good memory. Some of my crewmates and I went to the outdoor markets after the show and had some of the spiciest prawns you could imagine, plus all the kimbap we could gobble down," he tilted his head back and grinned.
"Do they have Korean food in Dubai?" Liz smiled up at him.
"Probably none you'd want to eat," he chuckled. "Oh, but Lizzie, the kabobs we'll have!"
They continued with the movie. At some point Red took her hand and was holding it tightly through the last few scenes. She said nothing, but enjoyed the sweet reassurance of his contact. She finished her third glass of wine and slumped back against him, warm and comfortable.
"Did you ever learn anything about aliens in naval intelligence?" she asked candidly. "You can tell me—I promise not to freak out."
"Not aliens, per se," Red rumbled behind her. "But there were certainly reports of unidentified phenomena seen in the skies by numerous ships. Moving lights, things of that sort."
"No alien ships crashed in the ocean?" she grinned.
"Not on my watch," he smirked.
"Darn," she sighed. "I want to believe."
"Is that from something?" he frowned.
"The X-Files," she shook her head. "It's a TV show about aliens, and FBI agents."
"Ah," he scoffed. "And you 'want to believe' in aliens?"
"What, you don't believe in aliens?" Liz turned to face him, conscious of her wine buzz. "All those stars and galaxies out there, and you don't think there are aliens?"
"Oh, it's probable," Red grinned down at her. "I just don't think they're interested in us."
"Well, their loss!" Liz scoffed and handed Red her wineglass to refill. He shifted to pick the bottle up off the floor and tipped the dregs into her glass. "We're interesting!" she declared, taking the glass from him and having a sip. "We…we have lives," she stated profoundly.
"I'd forgotten how delightful you are after a bottle of this," Red put the empty wine bottle back on the floor and motioned for her to settle back against him. "Come here, you lush."
"You've had just as much," she grumbled, leaning back against him.
"Yes, but you are woman, I am man," Red hummed.
"That's from 'Funny Girl'," Liz grinned.
"Classic Streisand," Red confirmed, shaking his head in awe.
"And they did it on 'Glee'," Liz added helpfully.
"Ugh!" Red cringed so hard she could feel it through her chest. "Lizzie, no!"
She laughed helplessly against him, then turned her face upwards and kissed him. He chuckled along with her and wrapped his arms around her.
"What's on next?" he wondered aloud, watching the TV.
"We missed the news," Liz sighed. "But we weren't in the previews," she drank from her glass.
"Good," Red rumbled behind her. "That all changes tomorrow."
"Do you think it's still a good idea to have the Troll Maker flood the system with our images and all those fake leads?" Liz finished her wine and handed Red the empty glass to set on the floor next to the empty bottle, which he did with a grunt. "I mean, we're old news now—the FBI doesn't have the city locked down the way they did. Why don't we just slink away quietly?"
"It's a good thought, Lizzie, but I want us to be covered when we're on the move, and I want to remind the FBI who they're dealing with if they're going to chase after us," Red explained.
Liz rolled over and rested her head on his chest, considering his words. Suddenly, she snorted with laughter.
"What?" Red cried, lifting her up so he could see her face.
"I was just thinking," she squealed and convulsed against him. "Ressler's going to be so mad!" She dissolved into loud peals of laughter, and Red covered her mouth in alarm. Once she quieted, he let her go. "Oh!" she wheezed. "It's just one big sign that we were here all along—that he missed us."
"Yes," Red chuckled. "He's not going to like it."
"Hmm, poor Ressler," she sighed in amusement. She wrapped her arms around Red's stomach and buried her face in his chest again. "God, you smell so good," she moaned. "Nobody in the world smells as good as you, did you know that?" she sighed again.
"Thank you," Red laughed quietly at her sudden shift in topic. "I feel the same way about you."
"You said we're taking a shipping tanker to Morocco? What's that going to be like?" she cuddled in closer and squeezed him.
"Wonderful," Red hummed. "Five days on the water, Elizabeth! It's going to be marvelous! You and I, enjoying the sun and the open air!"
"You make it sound like a cruise ship," she smiled into his chest.
"My shelter aboard that ship puts this one here to shame. You may find the experience very cruise-like," he promised, running his hands over her in excitement.
"Is the shelter also a ship?" Liz giggled suddenly.
"What? No. Why do you ask?" he was bemused.
" 'Cause then we'd be on a shipping ship, shipping ships!" she snickered, then hid her face in his side and laughed hysterically. "Do you get it?" she squealed against his ribs.
"Yes, Lizzie, I get it," he rolled his eyes. She quieted after a moment.
"So, tomorrow…" she let her voice trail off.
"Yes," he prompted her gently.
"Then tonight is our last night here," she said, sounding sad. "I mean, I knew that. I guess I'm just now realizing it."
"Sweetheart, we have much better places to be than down here in this musty cellar," Red teased her. "Don't be so forlorn about finally getting out of here," he kissed the top of her head.
"I know, I know," she conceded. "It's just hard not to be a little sentimental. We told each other we love one another down here. I'm going to remember this time and place forever," she hiccoughed.
"Me too, Lizzie," he chuckled at her boozy wistfulness. "When we're back in DC, and everything is right again, we'll come back here on our anniversary and have Eli make us bacon cheeseburgers to celebrate."
"Yes!" Liz immediately agreed. "We should definitely do that," she paused thoughtfully. "Gosh, if we make anniversaries of all our firsts together on this trip, we're going to have a lot of anniversaries."
"Lots of reasons to celebrate," Red grumbled beneath her. "We should just treat every day like it's our anniversary and live accordingly," he sighed blissfully.
"Mmm, okay," Liz agreed and squeezed him lightly. She was silent for a few moments and heavy against him. A minute later, she was fast asleep.
Red chuckled and settled in as another movie came on the TV—"Cannonball Run". Liz snored lightly next to him, and he spooned her gently while the antics played out on screen. There was little noise from the bar overhead, and Red found himself dozing lightly and pleasantly throughout the rest of the evening.
Around ten-thirty, Liz started to twitch and whimper in a way that roused him instantly.
"Lizzie," he rumbled, rubbing his hands over her gently. "You're safe, you're here with me. I love you. Wake up."
"Oh, Red!" she sobbed and sat up in terror. "Raymond!"
"I'm right here. You're okay, Lizzie. It was just a bad dream," he cooed, sitting up with her and rubbing her back. "What happened, sweetheart? What did you see?" He stood up and grabbed her a bottle of water.
"Nothing, but that was the point!" she quavered, taking a sip of water and reaching for his hand. He sat back down on the bed and put his arms around her. "We went back to the Post Office, but it wasn't there—it was all gone. Everything was gone. And Cooper was there—he said it was my fault, that it happened because of me! Everything was gone because of me! And then Connolly was there laughing and laughing, and then he was bleeding everywhere…" she shuddered and leaned against him for comfort. He kissed the top of her head, her cheek and her neck, squeezing her tightly. "Oh god, I'm so stupid," she blubbered. "I got so arrogant, and I thought I was taking control, but I was really losing it!"
"We're going to fix everything, Lizzie, don't be afraid," he said soothingly. "Another twelve hours and we start making it all better, just hold on, sweetheart."
"Okay," she breathed. "Okay."
He held her until she stopped shaking. She kissed him and pulled him against her chest in repayment, holding him close and dropping sweet kisses on the peach fuzz on top of his head.
"I love you," she murmured moving her mouth over his temples and his cheeks. "Thank you."
"I love you, too," he grinned into her face.
"Did you say we only have maybe twelve more hours in here?" she frowned and he nodded affirmatively. "Interesting," she smiled coyly.
"Is it?" he purred, noting the way her pupils dilated when he spoke.
"How long ago was it you said you only needed an hour to recuperate?" she asked casually, pretending to count on her fingers.
"Long enough," he growled, reaching for her.
"Oh, it's definitely long enough," Liz hissed the innuendo in his ear, then sucked his earlobe into her mouth and worried it lightly with her teeth.
Red groaned as, once again, every ounce of blood in his body surged into his tender cock with a pressure that almost painful. His body was reluctantly persuaded to arousal again by the promise of sweet release inside the woman he loved, but were it not Elizabeth next to him, Red knew he would never have been able to rise to the occasion. He rolled on top of her and kissed her slowly, lovingly.
"You're going to have to be somewhat gentle on me this time, Lizzie," he chuckled. "I'm an old man compared to a youthful vixen such as yourself."
"I can't believe we're doing this again either," she giggled. "But I can't help it, I'm sorry! I just think about you, and I want it. I look at you, and I need to feel you inside me. I might be sick," she added in explanation. Her hands moved over him lovingly, affectionately.
"Mmm, it's madness, I know," he rumbled, lifting the hem of her shirt and kissing his way across her stomach. "And it's not dissipating anytime soon, sweetheart," he warned her.
"Oh no?" she groaned as he moved under her shirt to fondle her aching nipples. "What about a couple years down the road, after you've had me every way you can think of, dearest?"
"Impossible!" he scoffed. "I'll come up with new ways. And then I'll do the old ways all over again," he feasted on her chest, working the sensitive flesh with his whole mouth. Liz moaned and pulled his white t-shirt off over his head, then moved her hands softly over his ruined back. She kissed the top of his head and ran her hands over the hair on his arms.
"Mmm, so another few more years, and then what?" she chuckled, testing his patience.
"Well, then we'll get married and stop having to have sex at all," Red snorted between her breasts and leaned up to capture her mouth with his.
"What, no honeymoon?" she teased.
"Fine," he huffed. "A brief honeymoon, then no more sex for us. Ever."
"Okay," she sighed, leaning forward and letting Red take her shirt off. "Not even resentful, obligatory birthday sex, though?" she poked at him again. "No Christmas sex? What about New Year's Eve?"
"Goddammit, Elizabeth," Red snapped in mock frustration. "You're insatiable! Fine! I'll fuck you raw every day for the rest of your life, if you want me to!" He flipped her over onto her stomach and straddled her. "What about Christmas, Raymond? What about my birthday?" he mocked her in a girlish voice. "Like I could ever get bored with this!" He grabbed the waistline of her pants and panties and yanked them down over her hips and thighs. She squealed and reached behind herself to cover what he exposed, but grabbed her hands and pressed them down into the mattress on either side of her head. He reared back and pulled his own pants and underwear down and off, then straddled her again, settling himself on top of her with a groan.
"Raymond," she hissed, wiggling her ass back against him. He was impossibly hard and pressed against her inner thigh, and she moved provocatively against him again, seeking better friction and penetration of her core. He moved with her, grinding himself into her plump ass cheek like a teenager at a dance, not giving her what she wanted. "You always do this!" she whined. "Stop teasing me!"
Red stopped moving and chortled with glee. He leaned down and put his mouth next to Liz's ear.
"No."
Liz whimpered in frustration and reached behind for him in a futile effort to make contact. He was up on his knees, still straddling her pants-and-underwear-tangled legs, and he fended off her blind hands easily. She reached instead for the headboard in front of her and used it as leverage to push her ass back against his hard dick. He playfully slapped her right butt cheek as punishment, making a cracking sound that was sure to be heard upstairs. Liz squealed and stopped moving, and he rewarded her by tracing one finger gently down her slit. Liz moaned into her pillow as Red repeated the motion, gently separating her labia and testing the level of slip he found in between. He drew his finger over her clit a few times before sliding it gently inside her slick passage and drawing out more of her natural lubricant.
"Ray, please," she cried into her pillow and looked back at him pleadingly.
"Please, what?" he was sliding his fingers over her clit again. She tried to spread her legs and give him better access, but he was still straddling them. "Tell me what you want."
"Please, I want you to fuck me," she keened. "Oh!"
He slid another finger inside her, preparing her for penetration by his cock at this angle. When he was satisfied with his work, he gripped his painful erection, and notched the tip of it against her slippery opening.
"Yes! Red, please!" she was trying to back herself against him, but he wouldn't allow it. He held her in place, making her growl in annoyance.
"How do you want me to fuck you?" he asked her conversationally, pressing himself against her, but not quite penetrating her.
"Hard! Please! I need it," she moaned. "Come on!"
"Hard, but not fast?" he began to push into her a centimeter at a time. She wailed yearningly and looked over her shoulder at him once more.
"Raymond," she tried further, her eyes glazed with lust. "You'll pay for this," she wiggled underneath him again and was rewarded with two more centimeters. "Edged until you cry!" she ground out in reminder, and he laughed wickedly behind her.
"Lizzie, you should know not to threaten me with a good time," he shook his head in amusement and let her have a whole inch. She squealed and clenched on him, and he was glad she couldn't see how much it affected him as his head rolled back in ecstasy behind her. When he decided he could handle more, he sank into her completely, letting her syrupy cunt swallow him whole.
He made a pleasured noise he would be embarrassed by later, and grabbed her ass with each hand. He started to move slowly, his body reminding him that he'd gone hard the last time he did this, and a repeat performance was likely to be painful. That feeling soon gave way to the exquisite feel of Elizabeth around him, moving against him, openly begging him with her mouth and her body to be filled with his cock and later his seed. He shuddered and plunged into her deeply, letting his full weight hold her down and keep her as still as possible, though she seemed determined to move. Slowly, though Liz was cursing at him viciously, he set a deep, hard pace that was leisurely enough to drive her insane.
She moaned in time with his slow, measured strokes, moving with him encouragingly. Then she gave in to her frustration and moved against him angrily. He laughed at her every time she did this, which only infuriated her into a repeat performance.
"Just the cuffs, and no edging!" she fumed into her pillow. "No clothes, and only bread and water for a month!"
"Oh my goodness! You know what I like!" he chuckled, moving a little faster. "A little suffering to sweeten the sensation, you filthy, kinky, woman!" he kissed between her shoulder blades to the small of her back. "I love you, Lizzie."
She could only laugh at him. The sound filled him with so much joy, he thought he might burst from happiness.
"Here," he rolled to his side and pulled her with him while still staying lodged inside her. He continued to thrust into her from this spooning position, but his hands now had access to the front of her body. He played with her unhurriedly, tweaking her nipples and swirling his fingers over her clit at his leisure. If Liz tried to take over with her own hands, he swatted them away and continued his gentle torture of her.
She has to be one thousand degrees between her legs, he thought. It felt like plunging his cock into molten lava, and it made him clench his teeth in pleasurable agony. His dick was now a metamorphic rock forged by the heat and compacting force of her pussy—he couldn't possibly be any harder or any closer to erupting inside her than he was in this moment.
Liz had sneakily put one small, busy hand between her thighs, and this time he allowed it. He played with her chest and plunged into her intermittently while she lost herself in finally getting what she needed to orgasm.
"Go inside me! All the way!" she wailed. "Please! Oh! Raymond!"
He surged into her and held himself in place while she pleasured herself. Suddenly, she was crying out for him, and his cock was squeezed inside her like a ripe orange in a citrus-juicer.
"Yes, Elizabeth, yes!" he cried out as she moved in rhythm. "Oh, god, Lizzie! Oh!"
He could no longer hold back. With a few quick thrusts, it was all over. His overworked balls ached as they released yet another load into the sexiest woman he had even known. He cried out her name in worship until he was exhausted and twitching beside her.
Having sex in the spooning position meant it was easy to simply curl up together when they were finished and lay there gasping with one another in post-coital bliss. As he grew flaccid and withdrew from her velvet sheath, Red stood and grabbed paper towels from the small dining table, then carefully cleaned her up.
"Thank you," she sighed when he was finished. "That's one of the kindest things a man can do for a woman after making such a mess of her."
"I agree," Red smirked, threw used tissues away and curled up with her again. They held one another as they came back down to earth together. After a few moments, Liz excused herself to use the bathroom, and Red put his clothes back on. He tidied up their living area and remade the bed. He looked around the small cellar space that had been their world for the last week and sent a small thank you to the universe for allowing everything to work out so well.
Liz came out of the bathroom smelling like soap and toothpaste. He kissed her, released her, then pulled her back against him and kissed her again.
"I love you," he told her for maybe the hundredth time that day, and he meant it so deeply he thought the weight of it would split him open. But she smiled at him with those beautiful blue eyes, and she told him she loved him too, and the relief he felt sunned him to his core.
That night he held her fiercely close and surrounded in his arms—his Elizabeth, his Lizzie, his love—and he slept the sleep of a much younger man. Tomorrow, everything would change, but tonight, they were in love, they were together, and that was all that mattered.