A/N So this chapter is much less humour and romance and a lot more hurt and angst. I can't seem to help it! It's huge too but I saw no need to split it since I'd written it all already xx

My timeline is all out now but this is post Lizzie and Tom drifting apart but pre her hippo discovery about his true identity. As I said in the previous chapter they are apart ... But in the last chapter I said this was a one shot and look what happened there! I guess my story is going a little AU, but why not.

Thank you for the generous reviews and follows and favs. As usual... Thank you very much to the guest reviewers. Any and all support is very much appreciated xxx And thanks to JJgoodhope for letting me run this past you xxx

The next time they see each other they are at the post office. Lizzie waits in the meeting room for Red's appearance at a briefing, anticipation making her feel like a teenager. She's trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach and suppress the slightly nervous laugh that she feels brewing within her.

When he walks in wearing the very same charcoal grey suit, minus the fedora, she almost chokes on her tea and it's all she can do to maintain her composure. She knows her eyes widen and she blushes but she tries to keep the rest of her surprise to herself. She also knows he's doing this on purpose... attempting to provoke response. She tries her best to disappoint.

But Despite her training and all the experience she amassed with Red, Lizzie knows she's not the best actress, not so good at hiding her emotions and concealing how she feels so she avoids looking at him, aiming for something between indifference and nonchalance.

But if someone even mentions the missing hat she will lose it completely, unable to contain her amusement about this whole situation.

"Hello Lizzie", Red says in greeting and she can see his eyes dance mischievously.

She can't speak, afraid that whatever she says will betray her, sounding suspiciously like a giggle, so she nods her head.

"Cat got your tongue, Agent Keen?" He baits in a soft seductive voice.

"Red" she slightly breathlessly, her amusement soothed by the intensity the situation has taken on.

"Having fun yet?" He continues, as he takes a seat beside her, the richness of his tone sweeping over her and bringing a new flush to her cheek. She likes him when he's being flirtatious and it makes her want to try it too.

Their eyes meet and they hold the gaze, no one notices but if they stopped to observe they'd surely feel the electricity in the air, bear witness to the moment that undeniably happening.

But it's at that moment, the moment they both realise that they feel something, that they both feel the same way, the proverbial rug is pulled from under their feet.

Lizzie had separated from Tom. Their relationship was broken and neither of them could pin point the exact moment that it happened. At first it was a drift and then a canyon that could not be bridged. Everything that Red hinted at made her suspicion mount until her unease made their relationship impossible. Finally when they could no longer deny it, she had moved out and started a new life on her own.

Yet when Cooper started talking at the briefing; linking Tom forensically to a couple of bodies that had been uncovered by hikers she feels like she had entered a parallel universe.

Lizzie sits mute while all around her are aghast at the information Cooper presents. Ressler's questions, Meera argues and even Aram makes some attempt to support her. But Red, well Red sits quietly and accepts. He doesn't nod, he doesn't speak and he doesn't acknowledge what's been said... But he doesn't contradict it either.

Where moments ago she felt the kindling of possibility, now she feels cold like ice. The excitement and passion suddenly leaves her and is replaced by an isolating detachment.

Of course she's questioned, she's grilled about Tom, their relationship, his past and his victims. She recognises the girl, a colleague of Tom's but she has little else to offer. It hardly satisfies them, how can an FBI agent with her profiling experiences not know about her own husbands criminal activities? She's unceremoniously sent home. The parting message a barely professional sounding ... 'Don't call us, we'll call you'.

Lizzie goes home because it's all she can do. Her world feels empty. The job that she aspired to, the job that she worked and sacrificed for is slipping from her fingers and there isn't a damn thing she can do about it.

She hates what's happened to her. She hates what's being taken away. That hatred extends to Tom, to whoever hired him, to everyone who ever concealed something from her, her past, her present, the truth. When she finally thinks about Red it cools but truth be told she doesn't know what to think; when she felt this way before she went to him. Back then he comforted her but now she feels it's not an option because he knew; and instead of telling her he tempted her, he hinted and he led her on. Who can she trust?

But of course Raymond Reddington finds it challenging to respect anyone's boundaries. He invades your life, your home, your space. So before long he shows up. When she doesn't answers the door he comes in anyway. Then he just exists beside her, her silent shadow as the days slowly merge and her ersatz life begins to fade away.

Red watches her; her internal struggle, manifesting in her loss of appetite, her troubled sleep, her dark angry expression. As he watches her he ponders the turn in events and how her reactions have altered. Before she came to him when things fell apart and he was there to reassure but now she seems determined to go it alone. He ministers to her anyway, trying to predict the things she might want or might need. He wants the process of healing, of recovery, to be as easy for her as it can be. And yet she struggles against him.

It comes to a head days, weeks later. She continues to all but ignore him, to leave the house without a word, going about her would be unknown business while he sits and waits and ponders. He is in the early stages of preparing dinner when she returns. She greets him with a brief look; barely acknowledging his presence, then goes to clean up before their meal.

Lizzie decides on a shower, she needs to ease the tension she's been feeling and needs the sound and feel of the hot water to block out her confusing thoughts. Chief among these is the question of why Red is still there.

What is God's name does he want from her? She wants to scream it at him; she wants to pound her fists against his chest until he's forced to admit everything. Then at other times, mostly late at night when she hears him pacing the living room, or when she wakes to find him sleeping in the chair beside her bed, she wants to plead with him, to weep, to have him hold her, to beg him to tell her why. Why her? Why this is happening?

She recognises the grief she feels and she knows though this mystery is far from over that she's had her fill. She's calling time on the whole affair and getting the hell out of dodge before they can take anything else from her. She's decided no matter how wrapped up she is in all of this, that she no longer wants it. That's why she's been distancing herself, why she's needed to leave him behind when she's visited the bank, the realtor, the lawyer's office.

She dresses and makes her way through for dinner. She needs to hold it all back, if only for a few more days.

The meal he's prepared is delicious, as it always is. Lizzie can't deny how much he's cared for her, making sure she's nourished, safe and well. Tonight he pours her some wine, a luxury that's been suspiciously absent these past few weeks. Either he trusts she's growing stronger or he hopes the alcohol will loosen her inhibitions long enough that she will talk to him. She feels so emboldened that he may just get what he wants.

When the plates are cleared and her glass is topped up he says, "You're leaving".

"Yes" she responds. Denying it would be futile; nothing gets by Raymond Reddington.

He nods, and when he speaks his tone is dark and mixed with the smallest hint of disbelief, "And you expect me to just let you walk away?"

"Yes" she replies again.

"You think I will just let you go?" He says his tone darker still, angrier.

"I don't know anything but I need this not to be my life. I've been blind, I've been stupid but despite all this, I believe if I ask you, that you will let me go." She tells him.

"There is more than me to consider" he says then pauses for a long while. "If leaving is your considered intention then I will help you. I will help you go so far that no one will find you, the people who hired Tom will never find you, but I won't be able to find you either. Is that what you want?" He asks.

Lizzie doesn't respond. Briefly her muddled mind flits over the details of her life since that fateful morning they met. Then it probes the foggy darkness of the unknown, the who and the why of the people that have monitored her. "Yes" she finally answers. She isn't certain of her response, she isn't certain that what she's asking is what she wants but she does know that she wants something other than this.

"Very well" Red responds. His face a mask, concealing the hurt that he feels. To distract himself he pours them both more wine and settles back, staring at her unabashed, this woman who knows him so little and so well, who wants to leave him and to never return.

After hours of silence and a few more glasses of wine she stands on uncertain legs and starts to make her way to her bedroom.

"Don't follow me" she says, certain that despite the absence of sound he is right behind her. He ignores her request, determined to watch over her as he's done all these weeks.

When they almost reach her room she pivots round to angrily confront him. Finally ready to say what she's had bottled up. She is slightly taken a back at just how close he is, at the soft expression in his eyes. She feels her ire drain, replaced by confusion and loneliness. She lifts her hand, touches the silk of his vest and closes her eyes as she steps closer. The smell of him is almost overwhelming. So rich and dark and masculine. It's permeated everything in the last few weeks but still she notices it, every time he comes close to her, every time he stands or moves. She adjusts her stance, moving closer still and slipping two fingers between the buttons of his vest. She can feel the heat from his skin, burning through his shirt and searing her fingers. With her thumb she traces up the smooth fabric before she slowly skirts the edge of a button.

Red just watches her, stands passively yet utterly captivated as his senses soak her in. Her face is mere inches away, her mouth temptingly close as she touches him in her soft intoxicating way. He allows himself a moment to enjoy this pleasure. He'd feel guilty but right now they are both indulging when he knows they shouldn't.

Before she does something he's certain she'll regret he grips her wrist and pushes her hand slowly but firmly away.

"You don't want me?" She asks, more than a measure of contempt in her tone.

"Not like this." He replies quietly, not wanting to provoke her further but fearing that it's already too late.

"What? Spurned? Duped? Betrayed? You're such a mystery to me. You came here, messed with my life and now you'll let me walk away, and I'm just supposed to pick up the fucking pieces and move on like none of it matters. How dare you! How dare you ruin everything I ever had and act like its nothing." By the end she's shouting, again closing the distance between them.

Red can't seem to hold it back, the worry of these weeks, her shunning him and her plan to go and leave him, finally spurs him into action.

He quickly closes the gap, sweeping her up in his arms and meeting her mouth with his. He's lifted her with such speed and ferocity that it's only his arm; extended in readiness, that stops them hitting the opposite wall, stop the bruises that she'd surely develop from the impact.

For a few moments he ravages her, and she returns his actions in kind. It's angry, yes, but it's desperate too. It's his chance to have her and he'll be damned if he wastes it. Finally she turns her head, gasping for air so he moves to her neck, tasting her skin, devouring every bit of her he can, until finally he too stops to collect himself. He allows his grasp to loosen and she slips slowly until her feet touch the floor, he turns his head, his lips settling in her hair, feeling its softness.

"Of course I want you, don't ever imply otherwise. But we're crossing a line, a line which neither of us can come back from. You may think this is nothing, a mere moment in a lifetime of events, but this will mean something to us both. I won't be able to let you go after this. I'll hold you and keep you, and you'll find out things about me that will make you despise me and still I'll hold on. No matter how you end up feeling I will never allow you to get away from me." He tells her, his voice ragged and broken as he whispers it against her hair.

She is silenced, shocked by the intensity of his words. They don't move for a long while and then she asks the only question that matters, "Why?"

"Because I love you. And because I love you I'm letting you leave. I'll do everything I can to ensure you can get on with your life and that no one ever finds you or takes anything from you again. But I can't have something with you and then let you go. It has to be everything or nothing, whatever you think of me, you must see that" while he speaks he loosens his grip until finally as he says the final words they are no longer touching but looking each other in the eye.

Lizzie returns his gaze. She tries to read from him some sign that this is true, that he does love her. She tries to gauge if it's enough, if it can compensate and commiserate. She searches his eyes, his face and his expression for sincerity, longing and for the love he speaks of.

But when her eyes drop, when she turns her body, retreating to her room and closing the door Red knows it wasn't enough. He doesn't blame her; this has been brought to bear on her without her consent. Later he knows the pain will be unbearable but for now he's going to give the woman he loves exactly what she wants, what she needs, even if his heart in broken in the process.

Red makes his way to the kitchen and makes a call. She'll need new ID, something that will satisfy any scrutiny, literally the best his money can buy. So he calls Mr Kaplan, issues instructions about her background, again something that will need to be water tight if she's to be eased into a new life, a new existence. He tells her that she is to personally handle it all and that he is not to be made aware of the details. At that instruction he's met with an inquisitive silence, so he briefly explains what's about to transpire and how Mr Kaplan will accompany Lizzie towards her future while Red remains firmly in her past.

With the first part arranged he pours another drink and sits in the darkness and silence, waiting for the sun to rise and his final days with her to begin.

Over breakfast the next day Red explains about the steps he's taken, Lizzie thanks him quietly before going into detail about the sale of her apartment and the money she's taken from her bank accounts, money that's now stored in a bag in her closet. When the sale of the apartment goes through, and since she's accepting such a low asking price it will go through quickly, she'll take what she makes from it and everything tying her to this life will be over.

"What you have, will it be enough?" Red asks her, certain that it won't be.

"I hope so. I invested my share of the brownstone into this apartment, I have that to come. I have my savings and what Sam left me. With the papers you're providing I should be able to get work, I can live modestly as long as I need to" she says.

He nods slowly but she sees his jaw work and knows he's not pleased with her response. She swallows, nervous about the future and her ability to make this fresh start, "I'll be fine. In your line of work you've sent plenty of people off with new identities. I'm going to assume none of them have ever returned to complain". She tries to sound light hearted when she says the final words, doesn't want him to know about the dread that's beginning to creep in.

"No, none of them have ever complained. But you're not just people, you're not my client." He says quietly but with a dark intensity in his voice. Lizzie just looks back at him, the dread mounting.

"I want to give you something Lizzie. If I'm going to let you go, and that is apparently going to happen, then I need to be sure you are comfortable, more than comfortable. I need to know you'll be safe, that you won't be in need, if this is going to happen at all then you'll have to allow me that" he goes on to explain.

Lizzie feels her throat constrict, her voice stolen by his level of anxiety for her. She shakes her head and when the wave of feeling passes she says, "I can't. Thank you but I can't".

He just nods again, clearly expecting the answer though hoping for an entirely different response.

Lizzie gets up from the table, she has to see the realtor again today, needs to push on and leave this mess of a life behind. She puts her cup in the sink and makes her way to the door only to feel Red following her. He knows their time together is limited and he's not willing to let her out of his sight while he still has a choice in the matter. To her credit, Lizzie barely breaks her stride before she accepts his company on her trip out.

The rest of the day is uneventful. In fact it's almost nostalgic in feel, like the events of recent times haven't occurred. Red doesn't stop himself touching her, no longer seeing the necessity in giving her space. He's either holding her arm, or touching the small of her back or just standing so close that onlookers are in no doubt of their relationship.

When they make it back to her apartment they are greeted by Mr Kaplan and associates. Red greets her and exchanges a few words before informing Lizzie that they are there to photograph her for her new ID. Then he steps back and observes quietly as they photograph her in several different outfits and rearrange her hair so it appears as though the photographs were taken at different times.

Their task completed they leave. Red starts to prepare dinner while Lizzie wanders her small apartment, imagining what it will be like to live somewhere new, to have a new job, to make new friends. She half believes she'll never be able to leave this life behind. Not that she doesn't want to but that it won't allow her to go. It's not just Red but the people who watched her before he came into her life, she doesn't know how long they've been watching, or interfering in her life and she wonders if she'll even notice their absence.

Quietly she makes her way back to her small living room, unaware that Red has stopped his preparations just to watch her. He watches as she steps across the floor, watches her hand extend to lift the photo frame containing a picture of her and Sam. She had already decided that it would be the only thing she would take when she vanishes from this life. He watches as she smiles down at the picture, as her eyes moisten, as her vision blurs. He feels lost and she hasn't even left yet.

Over dinner Lizzie asks him how long it will take them to produce her ID and other papers. He tells her it will be a few days, he's told them not to rush because it will take that long at least for the sale of her apartment to go through.

They fall into an easy routine; one established since the events at the Post Office, one that's grown more familiar but oddly less comfortable in the last few days. Red won't ask her to stay, not when he thinks she deserves this fresh start. And Lizzie still doesn't know what the truth is, though as her dread at her coming departure mounts so does her belief in the things he's told her.

Three days after Mr Kaplan's visits she wakes and dresses and comes to meet him in the kitchen. Breakfast is already served, freshly prepared and smelling delicious. He must listen for her, for a sign that she's awake and moving about, it's the only way he could time it so well. Beside him on the table is a large brown envelope, he pours her tea and says, "This is yours" pointing towards the package.

She just looks at it, certain what it is but stunned by the reality of its existence. She knows the sentence for false passports, knows the code for that specific federal offence.

"Mr Kaplan dropped your papers off" he explains as if she's not sure what it could be.

Lizzie lifts it, turns in round before setting it on her lap. Moments pass before she says, "you haven't opened it" it's a statement, not a question because the seal is intact.

"You said you wanted a fresh start. Even from me. For that to happen no one, other than those essential, must know of your new identity." He explains, but she knows why he hasn't looked. If he knew her new name then what would stop him from finding out about her location, and bringing to her again what he's already brought.

She swallows hard and tries to think about what to say to him, this isn't their last moment together but it's getting close and she's certain there are things that should be said. "All of this" she begins, gesturing with her hands to indicate not the package but everything that has gone on; "I imagine it has something to do with your family, something to do with revenge." She says then stops again to take a deep calming breath, "I'm sorry. I just can't do it any more".

When she finishes speaking she drops her head so she doesn't see the emotion on his face, the raw, unbridled emotion. He doesn't want her to be sorry. "You have nothing to apologise for. You are doing what's right for you and you deserve to escape it all. I'm only sorry it's cost you so much".

She nods her head; she wonders what it's really cost her. Her marriage to a man that never loved her, or the job that she only retained because of some unknown association with a wanted man. All it's costing her, if she really allows herself to take stock, is Red. How will she survive without him? But survive she must. She wants, no, she deserves a better life, one without violence, one without lies, a life where you ask someone a question and they answer. Not in riddles and half truths but with honesty because they have no life shattering secrets to conceal.

She lifts her package and stands for her seat, rounding the table and approaching him, "thank you" she says as she cups his cheek and bends to kiss him. She straightens but doesn't remove her hand; instead she strokes his cheek delicately with her thumb. He closed his eyes the moment she touched him but when her hand stays in place her can't hold back any longer. He lifts his hand and captures hers, moving it to his lips and kissing the palm of her hand. He then releases her and opens his eyes, staring off into some unknown middle distance as she retreats from the room.

The remaining two days they have together fly by. Red accompanies her as she finalises arrangements with the realtor and as she visits the bank, gathering her final funds.

On their way back to her apartment it occurs to her that she isn't sure what the arrangements are. She wants to ask but knows he'll have it in hand so she just enjoys the moment of normalcy.

Back in the apartment he goes to the kitchen to pour them some wine while she goes to add the money from the apartment sale to her modest pile of cash.

When she returns she's carrying something, trying to conceal it behind her back but failing.

Red stops to watch her, to listen to what she has to say.

"I have something for you. Well, it is yours actually, and I guess I've just been keeping it safe, or holding it hostage. I'm not sure which." She says, embarrassment heating her cheeks.

Lizzie approaches him, lifting his fedora from behind her back and presenting it to him. He doesn't move to touch it. He looks at it but barely at her. "I think you should keep it" he says.

"I can't." She says blushing further. "It's my favourite suit and I can't bear the idea of taking your pièce de résistance".

"It's your favourite?" He asks, finally stretching his hand to take back the fedora she took from him just weeks ago, yet how that short time has grown to feel like months.

"Yes" she says, moving away from him and lifting her drink. "The blue, the blue suit really works. Dark colours look good on you. Perhaps you're a winter too" she says almost laughing.

Before he can respond the doorbell sounds. "Who's that?" she asks, slightly startled by the unexpected interruption. For the briefest moment she'd forgotten the world and her reality, while they returned to memories they had shared.

"It's Mr Kaplan. Lizzie, it's time" Red tells her.

Without a sound she walks from the room, goes to her bedroom, puts on her coat and gathers the small bag that contains everything she need to take from this life into the next. On the bed she leaves her cell phone, her passport, her FBI identification. The things that tie her to this world, that she won't need in the next.

As she returns to the small hallway Red, Dembe and Mr Kaplan are waiting. "Ready?" Red asks her, talking her bag.

She just nods, she quickly casts an eye around the room, like she's casting her eye over her past, and seeing little of value she walks out.

In the car Red sit closely. Several minutes into their journey he explains the process, "Dembe and I will see you to the landing strip but we won't accompany you any further. From there Mr Kaplan will take you to your destination, which now only she and the pilot know, she'll provide you with immediate means to make your next journey and from then on you choose your path. It's best not to go anywhere you've been before, larger towns and cities tend to help people disappear more easily. At first you'll feel unease, you'll be concerned that you've been followed, you might move several times before you put down roots, that's normal. If you really want to be gone then don't contact anyone, only a mistake of your own doing with help them locate you".

Lizzie nods. She guesses that ordinarily he'd have an idea of where people would go but he's trying to protect her from himself as much as anyone.

"Thank you" she says.

When they arrive at the landing strip he opens her door for her as Dembe takes her bag and Mr Kaplan ascends the stairs to the jet. She's not sure if they're doing it on purpose but suddenly they have the space they need for their goodbye.

Red walks beside her as they approach the steps. "Red I wanted to say thank you for this, for all of this" she says indicating him, the plane, and his acceptance.

Red shakes his head, laughs his familiar disbelieving laugh, "for ruining your life? For involving myself in it when I could have stayed away. Lizzie, why ever would you thank me?"

"For letting me go when that's what I wanted and what I needed. After everything you've worked for you're giving me this. You are letting me have it when I have nothing to offer you in return". She says.

"You're giving up your life, I realise that even without me there was Tom and all that he brought, but I should have done something, dealt with it from afar" Red continues.

"Shoulda, woulda, coulda, it's a bit late for that now and not very Raymond Reddington." She says still torn between the mystery and the truth of it all. "Will I actually never see you again?" She asks him.

Red just shakes his head. So Lizzie does the only thing she can do and she slips her arms around him, embracing him in a last moment of peace. As Red kisses her hair her legs buckle but he supports her for a minute as she gathers and steels herself for what's about to happen.

"I want you to stay, I will beg you, I will plead and I will refuse to let you go. But I will also counsel you to go, to take yourself far away from here and forget my name and the blacklist and everything that's come of it. If need be I'll carry you up those steps myself because what you've asked me for is the least of what you deserve. Get away from me, leave and build a new life, before there is nothing left here but bitterness and regret." He says stepping away from her.

His tone makes her tremble, makes her fear for his future and hers without him, "Red" she says reaching out.

Closing his eyes he steps further away.

Lizzie turns, mounting the first few steps before stopping and facing him. "I love you." She says finally. "I must be crazy telling you this. Falling for whatever farce this is, admitting just how thoroughly I've been convince by it all. I think as long as I live I'll never stop feeling like an idiot. I can only imagine how I'll feel if I ever discover your true purpose in all of this".

"You're my true purpose. While it may not have started with you, that is where it ends. There is nothing after this, nothing beyond you." Red replies, involuntarily mounting the steps himself.

Lizzie closes her eyes as he closes the gap between them. Her breathing is ragged, loud, betraying the deep dread she's felt, that now threatens to overwhelm her. He slips his arms around her waist and she loops hers around his neck, allowing herself to be consumed by him, embraced and sheltered in his arms. She's aware of movement but little else as she accepts the comfort he's long been offering.

When she finally opens her eyes she is resting with her back to the car, Red having carried her away from the plane and the possibility of departure.

She looks at him, wondering what will happen now. Red kisses her again, not like the other night but tenderly, reverently, with such delicacy it almost breaks her heart.

"You love me?" He asks, his tone and expression depicting the disbelief he feels at her words.

"Yes" Lizzie responds, her guard dropping in response to his heartbreaking and humble sincerity.

"Say it again." He tells her, a small smile lighting his eyes.

His warm expression eases away any remaining tension and gives her the courage she needs, "I love you" she whispers.

He kisses her again, more passionate than before but still tenderly. When he's stops he smiles and says, "I warned you Lizzie"

"You warned me what?" She asks a little breathlessly.

"I warned you about giving me everything. I told you if that were to happen that I would be unwilling, unable to let you go. You loving me, that is everything. So this is a done deal I'm afraid." He says moving her over and opening the car door, "shall we?"