Here it is…a series of one shots I would love to see…all (hinting) at Lizzington of course.

Xxx

'Lizzie,' he says, ambling towards her. His deep voice rumbles. Resonates.

'What,' she replies, looking down, her eyes and the toe of her boot suddenly interested in an invisible smudge in the floor. He was here to chastise her, reprimand her for taking on an unnecessary risk. She's sure of it.

'Lizzie,' he says it again. He stops in place. Waits for her to meet his gaze.

'Yes,' she says, looking up. The look on her face is distant. Detached he thinks.

He walks the remaining distance and pulls her into a one armed embrace.

She feels the smooth fabric of his shirt, his mouth by her ear.

'I'm glad you're ok,' he whispers.

Xxx

Her hair is coming down from its hasty ponytail. Sweat runs down her face and dampens her black tactical shirt and pants. Her bulletproof vest emblazoned with FBI is still strapped snugly around her torso.

She stands against the cool cement block wall. Puts her hands on her upper legs and bends slightly at the waist. Tries to catch her breath. Rests a minute before going back in.

She hears the screeching of tires on the wet pavement outside. A car door slams and then another. The exterior door to the warehouse swings open and in strides Red. Blue pinstripe shirt and cream vest immaculate despite the surroundings.

'Lizzie,' he says. Jovial tone at odds with the stress evident on his face.

'So glad I caught you.'

He's at her side now. Moves to take her arm in his. Lead her back to the car.

'Red, what are you doing?' She jerks her arm away leaving a black smear across Red's otherwise perfect shirt.

'Something has come up,' he says, 'Elsewhere. Let's hop in the car. I'll fill you in on the details.'

'Red, what are you doing?' She repeats herself. 'This is an operation. You gave us his name.' She raises her eyebrows questioningly and turns away before shooting him an exasperated look over her shoulder.

'No Lizzie,' he says it again. 'They,' he gestures broadly in the direction of the building, knowing the rest of her team is still inside, 'can take it from here.'

'Red,' she says. Anger beginning to sharpen her voice. She reaches down and looks to check her weapon and starts to stride towards the interior door.

He advances towards her quickly.

She looks up, feels her body spin, and finds herself staring straight at Red's mouth. She struggles for a second, disoriented, realizing that he has her hands pinned above her head. His hands are encircling her wrists, not letting her move.

He doesn't say anything for a minute. Each inhale pressing his midsection more firmly into hers. He feels her heart beating double time against his chest. Realizes, so out of place, that he's never been this close to her.

'Red,' she's almost yelling now. 'Let. Me. Go.'

He doesn't move his hands from around her wrists. Clears his throat and looks down at her. 'It's not safe,' he says. Knowing she could have saved herself, probably. Then why is he here? He dismisses the thought as quickly as it came.

'Clear, clear.' They hear Ressler's voice from somewhere in the interior. The mission is over.

Red steps back now. Drops her arms. Turns and walks back outside.

She rubs her wrists together, still feeling his touch. Stares after him. Why?

Xxx

She jumps. He's on her couch again. She didn't hear the door open. Yet there he sits. Black overcoat still buttoned up but with his hat in his hand. Tapping his knee. His nervous tell, she thinks absently.

'I'm sorry.' He says it into the darkness, her form still in the shadow.

'You shouldn't have interfered,' she says it quietly. 'It's my job,' she adds, moving into the dull light. 'I know what I'm doing, that's why you picked me.' The last part sort of a question but not really.

'I know.' He looks weary. Exhausted.

'So, why?'

A hesitation.

'I was afraid.'

She doesn't know what to do with that.

'I didn't know you felt fear?' She says it lightly, as a joke. Maybe.

He stares past her now. Into the shadow of the kitchen.

'I didn't either.'

Xxx

'Red,' she says it softly. Reaches one hand over and starts to rub his shoulder. Her action surprising even her. She hadn't planned it, any of it, this magnetic pull.

He shouldn't let her do this…the thought flickers across his mind before he squashes it.

'We'll find them,' she says it even though she doesn't know if they will or not. It's what he needs to hear.

She moves over and starts massaging with both hands now. Knots and tension disappearing beneath her fingers. She can feel his muscles relax.

'Thank you Lizzie,' his words are muffled. His face still in his hands.

'For what?' She wonders. The massage? The words? The…

'…for being here.' He reads her mind.

Xxx

He sees her across the parking lot. Her back is turned. Can't see her face.

He approaches her quickly, a celebratory bounce in his step. Number twenty seven has been a doozy to catch but the team has prevailed.

'Well done Lizzie,' he says. She doesn't turn so he repeats himself. Maybe she didn't hear?

He moves to step around her and his breath catches. She holds a baby in her arms. New and small and scared. A survivor.

She looks at him, a pleading look in her eyes. She can't do this. Not right now. It's too close.

'Let me,' he says, takes the baby from her, cradling it securely in his arm. Naturally. Puts his other arm around her shoulders. Pulls her close. Into him.

'Shh,' he says, rocking them all back and forth. 'It's all going to be ok.'

Xxx

It's the same now as it used to be. He brings the names. She listens. They catch the bad guys. All on the same team, but not really.

The days run into each other and summer turns into fall turns into winter.

She is tired. So, so tired. Burning out.

It's cold when she arrives home. Her boots crunch in the snow on her front step. She searches for her key in her bag. Finds it, walks inside.

She smells it before she sees it, all real and free, a fire is burning in her fireplace.

Looking past the living room she sees food laid out on the kitchen table.

Startled she turns back towards the door. Sees the note taped just under the peephole. 'Take the night off,' it says. The ink is red and familiar.

Xxx

Number thirty two involves a ploy. Red needs an agent by his side, again. Of course it's her, again.

He whistles as she walks toward the car. Drags his gaze up and down her body. The dress brings out the color of her eyes. That's what he says anyway.

Inside the backseat she stares out the window. The sedan's engine humming through the streets. He hands her a drink. Vodka rocks. She has it all down by the time they reach the highway.

'Who am I tonight,' she finally asks.

'Who do you want to be?' He answers her. Probably not the best question.

'Your fiancé.' The twinkle in her eye contagious. Is it the vodka speaking?

'Really?' He smiles back. He really shouldn't.

"Really,' she says.

'Well, you'll need this,' he says, giving in and handing her the box.

"Red," she gasps. Surprise evident in her voice. 'It's beautiful…I can't even tell it's a fake, and I've...'

'It's not,' he interrupts.

'Not what?'

'Not fake. It's real.'

Something flutters and she settles back in her seat.

Xxx

She's nervous now. Never been in a situation quite like this one. For Red, not with him.

'It's just a drop,' he says. 'Simple really, go in, make contact, pick up the bag.'

'But there's so much at stake this time.' She says it quietly. Left hand worrying over her scarred right wrist.

'Now, now Lizzie, you've done this a hundred times,' he says it casually but somehow she is sure he knows it's the truth.

She steels herself, feels her pulse quicken and then slow.

He leans over. Places both hands on the sides of her face and kisses her soundly on the mouth.

'Better?' He asks.

She says nothing, mouth agape. Speechless.

'You looked like you needed a little distracting,' he says with a smirk. An excuse.

'Red!' She sounds indignant but he can't help but see the smile on her lips as she turns away and walks into the room.

He grins.

Xxx

'Red,' he spins around to see her entering the restaurant behind him. Funny, he thinks, he didn't expect her here.

She walks up to him, puts her arm in his, turns towards the rear of the room. The dining room is crowded. Friday night.

'Let's go.' She says.

'Lizzie,' he turns a bit, looks at her quizzically. 'You don't have to do this, you know. He's just an old friend, from…'

'...from when your life was real?' She finishes his sentence quietly. 'I know,' she continues.

How, he wonders?

'I should do this alone.' He says it more to himself than to her.

Tugging on his arm she plants a soft kiss on his cheek. 'But your not alone,' she says, to him. 'You have me.'

Looking down he smiles and leads her into the room.

Xxx