a/n: So I know I said three chapters only…but I extended it to four. I wanted Dembe to have his moment. Poor Dembe…getting left behind while Red and Lizzie go off on adventures.

I own nothing. Sad for me.

Enjoy!

"Honey! I'm home!"

Lizzie's voice rang throughout the extravagant apartment, garnering an amused look from Red and a glare from an already pissed off Dembe.

"Funny sentiment coming from a woman who just hours ago swore she would never set foot in this place," Dembe grumbled, locking the door and settling himself on the plush white couch that was the centerpiece of the living room.

"Don't be such a grouch, Dembe." Red parked himself on the other side of the couch, watching with rapt attention as Lizzie made her way through the room, wandering from thing to thing, exploring her new home. His interest grew even greater when she left the living room and climbed the three steps up to the kitchen. Feeling his stomach groan and growl, he called out to her as she began to pull out the ingredients for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "Fix me one too, if you will. What about you, Dembe? Hungry?"

"No. I didn't spend hours holed up in a motel room smoking everything but the kitchen sink."

A small giggle floated down to the living room from the kitchen. "The motel didn't have a kitchen sink!" Lizzie offered gleefully, studying the big glob of peanut butter that hung precariously from the end of her butter knife. Red crinkled his nose and feared for his coat. He didn't know what it took to get peanut butter out of wool, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.

"If I would have been pulled over with number four on the Most Wanted list and an FBI agent carrying hundreds of dollars' worth of marijuana, I would have lost my license," Dembe growled, crossing his arms over his broad chest and pouting.

Lizzie nearly choked on her peanut butter. "What do you care? You run around with Raymond Reddington and shoot people! What does it matter if you lose your license?"

"Do you know how long you have to wait in line at the DMV to get your license renewed?" Dembe asked. Red and Lizzie exchanged looks but nodded, trying to pacify their irate friend. "A long time. Do you know how long you have to wait to get your license reinstated? An even longer time. I don't have time for that shit."

Again Red and Lizzie exchanged incredulous looks.

"So were you smoking something in the car while Lizzie and I were smoking in the motel?" Red asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"No," Dembe replied, obviously put out.

Lizzie took a bite out of her sandwich. "Dembe, do you want some pot?" she inquired around a mouthful of peanut butter and bread.

"I cannot believe it's taken you this long to ask me. Rude."

Red watched with barely concealed astonishment as Lizzie emptied out her pockets onto the counter. He hadn't realized as she was packing it how much she was packing. How in the world did she get her hands on so much marijuana? One hand held the half-eaten sandwich and the other hand went to work rolling another humongous joint.

"No. Let me do it." Dembe scooted Lizzie out of the way and resumed the task with ease. Many years of practice and deft hands produced a perfect joint in seconds, and Liz grinned as she munched on her sandwich, thoroughly impressed.

"You did that awfully fast."

"I am an expert. You are an amateur. But thank you very much for the weed." Giving Lizzie a rare smile, Dembe retreated to the dining room table and pulled out his personal phone, set on making himself invisible.

He was good at that.

Red, on the other hand, was not used to being ignored.

"I'll take a sandwich now," he commanded imperiously, waving his hand in Lizzie's general direction. "Whatever you feel like fixing, though that peanut butter and jelly does look delici..." He felt a lot less imperious with a half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich shoved in his mouth.

"There," Lizzie said, flopping down beside him and placing her head on his shoulder. "Peanut butter and jelly. Specially made, just for you. I stole a few bites, hope you don't mind."

Red never minded anything less.

He pulled the sandwich out of his mouth and tossed it on the coffee table, pretending to be put out. Peanut butter clung to his lips, but he refused to smack it away. Not with her so close. Instead he attempted discretion, trying some fancy movements with the tip of his tongue.

"What's wrong?"

Discretion and narcotics did not mix.

"Just some peanut butter from the messiest sandwich in the world stuck to my lip. I'm dealing."

"Oh," Lizzie giggled, turning towards him. He tried to ignore the swell of her breasts against his arm, he really did. "I'll get it." Fingers brushed over his lips, and his tongue naturally drifted towards them, earning a gasp and an increase in pressure as she wiped the peanut butter from his lips with her thumb and licked it away with her tongue.

Red moaned. "I feel like I should thank you for that."

"You should. I don't do that for everyone."

"Will you two get a room?"

Dembe.

Within a matter of moments, Red had completely forgotten that they weren't alone.

Lizzie was dangerous.

"Raymond, if you two are in for the night I would like to pay Nancy a visit. I've been putting her off and she's growing impatient." Dembe's phone disappeared into his pocket and he started gathering his things, already sure of Red's approval.

Red always approved of getting laid.

Nodding at Dembe as he exited the apartment, Red turned to Lizzie, answering the question that hadn't yet left her lips. "Nancy is Dembe's girlfriend."

Lizzie's jaw dropped in surprise. "Girlfriend?"

"Don't look so shocked. Dembe's a handsome man."

"Of course he is!" Lizzie stammered, fiddling with the buttons on Red's coat, still wrapped around her body despite the warmth of the room. "I just meant that in his line of work…"

"Romantic relationships aren't a good idea."

It wasn't a question.

Lizzie stiffened. "I just don't think it's a good idea to get attached to someone and then up and leave them. You two travel the world on a whim… where does a romance fit into that?"

She had to hit him with the deep questions. This was his punishment for swearing to always tell Lizzie the truth. She would always ask the hard questions, and he would always be searching for loopholes.

"It doesn't. Not usually."

He forgot to look for the loophole.

"You know what?" Lizzie stood hastily and slipped the coat off onto the couch, baring her scantily clad body to Red once more. "This is getting heavy and I'm tired of heavy."

She wasn't talking about the coat.

"In fact, Dembe left his freakishly perfect joint on the table and I think it deserves to be enjoyed properly." Lizzie walked on clumsy legs to the dining room table and picked up the joint, smiling as she measured it alongside her finger. Red smiled to himself as he watched her every move. She was adorable this way, carefree and determined to stay that way. He could indulge this habit…just this once.

Of course he was still pretty high himself, and coming down was something he never enjoyed.

"Need some help?" he teased, pulling a lighter from seemingly nowhere and flicking it on and off while Lizzie scowled. She straightened her back and moved to stand in front of him, hands on her hips and a smirk on her pretty lips.

"I need quite a few things, actually."

Red was all ears.

"This feels familiar. Go head, twist the handle."

Lizzie tried and failed to stop the grin from spreading over her face. "First, I want you to light this." She held the joint to his lips and he lit it, taking a slow drag before she took it back. "Now… I want a tour."

"A tour?" Red crinkled his nose as smoke wafted into his nostrils.

"Yeah. I want the grand tour. Nooks and crannies and closet space. If I'm going to live here it's got to pass inspection."

Red stored that particular smartass remark away for later use.

"Fine, Lizzie. We'll take the grand tour. Then you can tell me where you got the drugs."

Lizzie's face paled and Red grinned.

"Gotcha."