Here is a little one shot based on my life, with a little early Lizzington thrown in (thanks to a tumblr prompt). I might have taken a bit of artistic licence with Lizzie's hair (someone needs to). And I've managed to incorporate my favourite lines from ep 6.

Alluding to Lizzie's separation/divorce but not giving detail. This is more like a short glimpse of romance between Red and Liz.

What's Mine is Yours

The most recent case finished Red and Lizzie return to her new apartment for their now customary low key celebration.

When she moved out of the brown stone and into her own apartment Red became a frequent visitor. His appearances have become so regular that he's started bringing groceries, which has largely resulted in an extensive and impressive collection of wines, champagne and whiskey.

So tonight when they return she goes to the kitchen and pulls out a bottle of red wine, decanting the contents, knowing he will approve. She carries it through with two new glasses that she'd purchased last week but hadn't yet had a chance to use.

Red watches her return, raising an eyebrow at the tumblers she carries.

Lizzie pours them some wine and in response to his quizzical look she says, "I don't think we're wine glass people. I saw these and thought you might like them".

She hands Red the glass and he holds it in his fingers turning it to examine its properties. The tumbler is round, heavy based and substantial but there is also something elegant about it, like someone took the time to think about the ergonomics of this simple bit of glassware.

Lizzie watches as he purses his lips, seemingly satisfied with what he sees and adjusts his grip on the glass, moving it into his palm and tasting the wine.

"Excellent choice" Red says after a few moments. Lizzie sips the wine herself, enjoying it and wondering if his comment was in reference to her choice or to his. She's grown accustomed to his ambiguous statements so she just smiles accepting the compliment he may or may not be offering.

It's been a long and challenging week and before long she's snuggled down in the sofa, resting her eyes and her head on a cushion.

"Lightweight" Red says with humour in his voice.

"I know, I know. But it's been a long week. Give a girl a break" she says with an embarrassed frown but without opening her eyes.

She feels the sofa move as he rises from his seat, "come on" Red says to her, taking the glass from her hand and placing it on the side table.

"Please Red. I just need a minute" she says in a sleepy voice.

Instead of responding he takes her hand and pulls her to a standing position.

"Fine, I'm up! Is this how you thank me for my hospitality?" She says as she wanders out the room towards her bedroom.

"It is" Red replies as he gathers the glasses and now empty decanter.

He uses only warm water to rinse the glassware, not wishing to taint any wine they might enjoy together in the future. Then he wanders toward her bedroom himself.

She's already asleep on her side, shoes discarded at the foot of her bed. Her hair sweeps over the pillow behind her and he's momentarily mesmerised by the dark waves. Knowing from experience that she won't wake up he gently sits himself on the side of her bed, studying her and finally reaching up to run his fingers through the soft strands at the side of her head. Red doesn't sleep much, he can't find the peace required to still his thoughts long enough to escape. Yet he knows he could sleep here with her, with her body, her warmth and scent enveloped in his arms, with his fingers resting on her skin, his lips resting in the midst of her dark locks. But he'd never ask, and she'd never allow it.

Yet when he stands he leans down, bending over her. He allows himself one detail from this deepest desire. Gently, almost reverently he kisses her head, his lips touching the waves that just begin to fall away from her face. He closes his eyes, breathes in and savours this stolen treasure.

Then he leaves, making his way out into the night and the waiting car. Dembe gets out to greet him, and as he approaches he can sense the calmness emanating from his friend. He wonders if there will ever be a night when he won't leave till morning. He's sure when it finally happens the peace he sees within him now will never depart.

As Red arrives he lifts his hand and passes Dembe what he's been carrying. No words are spoken because neither wishes to break the spell.

When Lizzie wakens the next morning she listens to the silence in the house. She wonders when Red left, wonders how long he waited and she blushes slightly, wondering if he looked in on her before he departed.

She wanders to the kitchen, opens the cabinet to get a glass for water and notices only five of her new glasses on the shelf. Odd, she thinks, she'll need to ask Red what happened. But then it slips her mind.

A few days later Red tells Lizzie that he's going out of town. He has a bit of business in Europe and it's something that requires his presence rather than just his oversight.

"For how long?" Lizzie asks him, trying to keep the alarm she feels from reaching her voice.

"A week, possibly longer." He replies, studying her for any sign that his news is a concern.

She just nods, at first not trusting herself to speak. This will be the longest she'll have gone without seeing him since Anslo. It's an unpleasant comparison and it only adds to the feeling of unease she feels.

"What about the Blacklist?" She asks, needing confirmation that he will be coming back.

"Right now there is nothing pressing. Nothing that can't wait a few weeks" he says feigning disinterest while studying her closely. She nods her head but it's the nervous swallow that gets his attention.

By Friday he's been gone five days and she hasn't heard a word from him. To say that he's on her mind is more than an understatement. She wants to call him but she has no excuse until she remembers about the missing glass.

"Hello Lizzie" he says when he answers the satellite phone.

The tone and sound of his voice alone leaves her slightly breathless.

"What can I do for you?" He asks.

"Hi" she finally manages to squeak out. "I was wondering if something happened to one of the new glasses the other night".

"You're calling me about a glass?" He asks but she is silent. "You're calling me on a satellite phone to ask about a glass?"

"Yes" she says thankful he can't see her blush of shame.

"And what do you think happened?" He asks.

"I don't know but I bought a set of six and I seem only to be able to find five" she responds.

"And I'm so inept I smashed one while washing up and neglected to mention it?" He asks, humour filling his tone.

"No, I guess not. Perhaps I misplaced it. I'll look again" she responds, aware in the corner of her mind that he has deflected and not denied it.

"Is that the only reason for the call?" He asks.

"Em yeah. It's been bothering me. Where are you?" Lizzie says.

"In the sky over Eastern Europe. Are you missing me Lizzie?" His tone is light but his question genuine.

"It's quiet here without you. Not much to do at the Post Office. When will you be back?" She asks, using the excuse of a lack of work.

Red is thoughtful, considering her motivation for the question. He decides to be allusive and gauge her reaction to his noncommittal response. "A few more days, a week maybe".

"Oh. I might take a few days off. Make the most of the down time while I can." She says trying to cover her growing concern.

Red just nods even though she can't see it, "is that everything for now?"

"Yes. No, not really. Red. Are you coming back?" She finally asks him in a small voice.

"Yes Lizzie" he responds immediately, feeling guilt for his evasiveness; scolding himself for playing games with her. He wants her to want him but he can't believe she ever will. Mostly because she finds the life he leads so repugnant; she finds the violence and death unacceptable. And though they've grown close he doesn't think she'll ever be able to accept that he'll continue to do these things every time she is in danger.

"Soon?" She asks.

"As soon as I can" he tells her.

She disconnects as soon as he's said the words, certain that she's said too much, that she's tipped her hand. She isn't certain how he feels about her and she doesn't want to make herself vulnerable. Raymond Reddington isn't a man you want to be vulnerable around. But still she feels reassured, knowing he's coming back.

Lizzie wasn't lying on the phone either. His absence has left the Post Office with little to do, since the list has become their main focus. She asks Cooper for a few days off and spends the time thinking about Red and doing the little jobs that need done in her new place.

A few days later she's quickly running out of jobs to keep her occupied. She wants to keep her mind busy, concerned about how much she misses Red and just how much she thinks about him. But she can't seem to help herself.

Lizzie looks around her apartment trying desperately to find a task. She searches the cupboards, finally opening the door to her liqueur cabinet. Red normally deals with this but maybe she could add a few well chosen items, even surprise him on his return.

The type of alcohol Red enjoys can't be picked up at Costco so she Googles well respected wine importers who sell to the public in the Capital. She picks the most expensive looking one and hopes their expertise will be enough to make up for her inexperience.

The drive is only 20 minutes so before long she's walking through the doors of the wine merchant, admiring the dark wood interior. She can see Red in a place like this.

Before long she's approached by a member of staff, who listens to what she needs and guides her choices. So far she's just selected red wine but she starts to think about champagne when the door opens and Dembe walks in.

Walking over she greets him, "Dembe".

"Agent Keen" he responds.

She smiles, Red is so over familiar yet Dembe sticks to these formalities. "When did you get back?"

"Just a short time ago" Dembe responds.

She nods wondering if and when Red would get in touch.

"He is a little jet lagged but I'm sure he'd like to see you. Allow me to complete your shop. He's at the writers' house." Dembe tells her handing her a set of keys.

Lizzie's heart begins to beat faster; she looks down at the keys and smiles. "Thank you Dembe".

Fifteen minutes later she's unlocking the door to Fredrick's home. She slowly pushes the door closed behind her, takes a few steps then stops and listens for noise within the apartment. She hears footsteps in the next room then nothing.

Red hears the door open and close, then wonders how Dembe has returned so quickly. He moves from his position at the bookcase and settles again in his seat, closing his eyes and listening to whoever has arrived. When the footsteps resume their path towards him he smiles knowing who his visitor is. He lifts his glass and takes a sip from the mysterious moonshine that he's still discovering around this apartment, "hello Lizzie" he says loud enough for her to hear.

She pushes open the door and when she sees him she says warmly, "Welcome back".

Red smiles in return. Sleep has been particularly elusive this trip. He is certain the distance from her has made what was already a difficult task impossible. Until now his movement has been sparse and laboured, but now he sits up and finds an empty glass to pours her a drink. They fall into an comfortable and familiar silence, Red looks out of the window at the fading light, enjoying his favourite time of day, in the company of the person who he most enjoys spending time with.

Moments pass and Lizzie looks at him, drinks him in and wonders how she managed to survive so long without seeing him. Despite the travelling he is still smartly dressed. She takes a moment to admire the charcoal grey vest that's covering his crisp white shirt but then her eyes are drawn to the drink he is holding in his hand, "Is that my glass?" she asks sounding surprised.

"I believe you bought them because you thought I would like them" Red responds sleepily.

"I've been looking for it. Every day Red. I thought I was losing my mind" she says laughing despite herself.

Red smiles, "and I do like them. Well done!"

Despite his desire to enjoy the setting sun and this woman he's missed so much he feels his eyes close.

Lizzie shakes her head. She knew he was evading her but she was too nervous to push him. She studies him while he rests his eyes, admiring his sideburns, and his light and delicate eyelashes. She can't help but appreciate how attractive he is while she has the chance but she wants to do more than look. She wants to reach out and touch his face, let her fingers trace the hairline as it drops from his forehead towards his jaw.

When his breathing begins to slow she thinks it's time to leave him; before she can no longer resist the urge she so strongly feels. Very softly and gently she bids him goodbye and walks to the door. She turns before she exits and watches him briefly again, sighing in contentment.

In the hall she stops, wondering about leaving the keys when her eyes alight on his fedora. The grey matches his trousers and vest; she can only imagine its smoothness and how attractive he would be in the whole ensemble. Despite her current train of thought she's also thinking about the glass he's still holding in his hands. Her glass.

She smiles as she gathers and twists her hair, biting her lip to hold back the nervous laugh she feels bubbling within her. Two can play this games she thinks.

Lizzie steps out into the street, hoping beyond hope that he'll stir and catch her red handed. It's a struggle to resist the temptation to look up but she waits, till she's below the window, then she stops and slightly tilts her head up.

From his vantage point at the window Red sees her stop and watches as she lifts her head, her wide eyes just visible beneath the brim of the fedora. He leans towards the window, lifts an arm to rest in on the frame and smiles as he watches her. She nervously bites her lips as their eyes meet, but it also gives her a thrill and before long she can't contain the feeling of pleasure, so she returns his wide smile.

They stay that way for a few moment and then she reaches up to remove his hat, letting her dark hair unravel and fall down her back. From his view it's all completed in one swift, smooth movement and it's breathtaking. Tomorrow he'll wonder if this whole night was a dream but when he dresses and makes his way to the hall he will find an empty peg. And across town Lizzie will let her fingers explore the stiff fabric, the soft ribbon. She may not have him but for the moment she has a little piece.