The alarm clock woke her the next morning and Liz felt her stomach clench at the thought of going to his class. She wasn't prepared to look him in the eye, she didn't think she ever would. How did all the other girls he had slept with handle it? Did they just walk into class with a smug smile on their face, knowing they would get an A on their final essay and not care about having slept with their professor at all?
Liz closed her eyes again. What was the worst thing that could happen if she dropped the class? She would have to try again next year, but would that be any less awkward? Reddington would know it was because of him and how would that look? That she was too embarrassed to show up again? That she was too disgusted? No, he had already been feeling down and Liz didn't want to fracture his ego any more. If only his class wasn't mandatory she could've told him she had taken up too many courses and needed to drop some of them.
When she opened her eyes again and glanced a the clock her heart skipped a beat. She had fallen back asleep and classes would start in 15 minutes. Cussing she jumped out of bed, grabbed the first pieces of clothing she could find and put them on, almost stumbling over her own pants as she did so. She grabbed her bag and quickly glanced at the mirror in the corridor. Ah well, she would just have to deal with looking like crap. Liz flattened her hair as best as she could and broke out into a run.
When she reached his classroom door his class had already started 10 minutes ago. Liz took a deep breath, still panting from the early exercise, and knocked.
"Come in," she heard Reddington's gravelly voice.
Liz opened the door and carefully stepped inside. She dared to look at him only for a second and watched his frown turn into a delighted smile.
"Oh, Miss Keen, I was started to get worried," he said casually.
"Sorry. I overslept," she apologized, her eyes now fixed on the floor. She couldn't bare the sight of him. She had come here looking like a homeless person and he was absolutely dashing, still a little paler than usual but clean shaven and not a single winkle in his shirt.
Unfortunately the only free seat in the room appeared to be one in the first row, right in front of him, that her friend Samar had secured for her. Liz sighed and sat down.
"He looks good today, don't you think?" Samar leaned closer and whispered into her ear.
Liz turned to face her. "Who are you talking about?"
"The Admiral of course."
"Oh, uhm, I haven't noticed," Liz replied and busied herself with unpacking her notes.
"You should have seen him yesterday. He seemed over the moon, like the exact opposite of the day before that."
"Aha," she mumbled in reply, trying to sound as indifferent as possible, "Listen, can I borrow your notes? I wasn't feeling well yesterday."
"Sure thing."
Liz turned her attention back to Reddington, trying to ignore the pieces of information her friend had just given her. He liked her. She had tried to ignore it the day before, but he did and he probably wouldn't mind seeing her again. Liz felt the urge to bang her head on the desk.
"Now that we've covered the basics about gender studies in the past few centuries, I'd like to continue with the depiction and sexualization of women in modern culture," Reddington announced. He turned to the blackboard, an old fashioned one, and wrote down the topic of today's class before asking everyone: "What keywords come to mind when you think about it?"
Liz watched his swift hand scribble down the class's suggestions without really listening. His low voice started to trigger a few memories that she had forgotten about until now. They had been standing in the middle of his living room, shoes kicked off and the song had just ended, yet his hands had remained on her body, holding her steady against his own, hips rubbing against each other. He had bent down and kissed her throat first, that certain spot which had always been her weakness. Liz had giggled when she had felt something hard press against her hips.
"I'm sorry," he had apologized, "I got a little carried away."
Reddington had tried to release her from his grip but she had been unsteady on her own two feet. Liz had no idea what had gotten into her that night but she remembered now that she had started it. She had actually begged him to fuck her.
Liz groaned internally and just prayed for this class to be over quickly so she wouldn't have to be reminded of their encounter with every word he spoke.
"Alright, that would be it for today. Please, if you can find the time, I uploaded a few pages that I would like you to read until tomorrow."
Liz sighed with relief and started to pack her things as her fellow students started doing the same. It was over now, she had done it. She should be proud of herself. And then she heard Reddington call out her name.
"Miss Keen, would you mind coming into my office for a quick chat? It's about yesterday," he said with a sincere smile.
Everyone in the room probably just assumed it was because she had missed the class on the previous day but Liz knew better. This wasn't about the class. This was about them.
"I'm sorry, I have to get to my next class," she lied. She had about an hour before her next course started.
"I won't keep you long. If you're late you can blame it on me," he promised her.
Liz wondered for a moment what could be worse than being in a room alone with Reddington right now but she couldn't think of anything. She followed him through the corridor without saying a word and held her breath until he had closed the door behind them.
Liz had to gather all of her courage to look at him only to realize he was smiling happily.
"How are you feeling? How's the head?" he asked, leaning his back against his desk.
"Fine," she replied, not knowing what else she could add.
"Glad to hear it. I was worried when you didn't show up today. I thought you had decided to drop my class," he confessed, letting out a tiny, insecure laugh.
"I was considering it," Liz admitted, "But I'd have to come back next semester anyway, so. . ."
"What are you doing tonight?" Reddington suddenly asked quickly, as if he was afraid his courage might fail him if he spoke slowly.
"I, uhm, I don't know," she spluttered. Oh God, this was exactly what she had feared.
"Just so you know, I'm not going to give you a bad grade if you refuse, but I would really like to see you again."
"I can't," Liz exhaled sharply, "I'm sorry. I'm not really looking for something right now. That night, that was stupid and nothing special. You should just forget it ever happened."
Reddington was still smiling but he seemed sad now. He shook his head.
"That's easy for you to say. You might not remember but I do. I can't think about anything but you. I remember everything about the other night. The smell of your perfume that haunts me, the touch of your skin, the way you laughed. God, Lizzie, you should laugh more often. You're so beautiful when you laugh."
"I haven't had a lot of reasons to laugh lately," she admitted sadly, watching Reddington closely. He had truly fallen head over heels for her. That was bad, that was worse than bad, it was a disaster. She couldn't date her professor. She just couldn't.
Reddington pushed himself away from the desk and started to approach her, causing Liz to take a step back.
"I remember you shiver when I kissed you there," he said gently, pointing at her neck. Liz quickly covered that spot with her scarf.
He had reached her now, standing right in front of her. So close she could feel the heat of his body.
"Tell me I'm an old, disgusting bastard and I'll go away," he said earnestly.
"You said you were done with students," Liz tried to reason with him.
"I thought I was. I meant every word I said to you. I haven't been this happy in a really long time. I really thought you enjoyed it as well, but apparently I was wrong."
"I did. I did enjoy it," she told him, "But I'm not ready to start anything."
She could have told him the truth. She could have told him that her boyfriend had died and he would have understood. But she didn't. Instead she grabbed her bag, said she was sorry and stormed out of the room.
Lizzie was glad to be back in her own apartment that evening. She imagined that closing the door behind her meant locking out all of her problems and worries, but tonight it just wouldn't work. Reddington wouldn't leave her alone.
If she was being perfectly honest with herself she had to admit that she indeed found him attractive in some way that she couldn't fully comprehend. Yet it didn't matter. She didn't want to be a second Carla. She wasn't ready to get over Tom's death and become Reddington 's. . . whatever it would be. Affair? Girlfriend? All she truly wanted was to cling to and wrap herself in her dead boyfriend's memory.
Liz threw her coat aside and prepared herself a cup of tea, still having some homework to do for the following day. She sat down at her desk, opened her laptop and spotted a new e-mail in her university account. She opened it without taking a look at the sender and soon realized that no other than Reddington had sent it to her.
"Dear Lizzie,
I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I promise to respect your wishes and leave you alone from now on. Please don't drop this class because of our little encounter the other night. Your education is more important than any personal problems we might have.
Red."
Lizzie was about to close the mail and carry on with her homework, but it seemed a little rude to leave it unanswered. After all, Red had only expressed his feelings for her and was now apologizing sincerely. She didn't really know what to reply, so she typed a simple "Thank you" before turning her attention back to her homework, glad that this problem appeared to be solved.
Liz switched off the radio and groaned. Damn public transport had to go on strike on a Saturday when she needed to go grocery shopping. She still had her old bike in the basement that she hadn't used in years and Liz wasn't even sure if she could still ride it, but there was no way she'd be carrying all those groceries back home.
She walked downstairs, armed with a cloth and a bucket of water and cleaned her old bike off the dust that had gathered over the last years. She carried it back upstairs and set it down on the road, hoping that at least the fresh air and exercise would do her good. It had been over a week since she had slept with her professor and although he had been nothing but a professional ever since they had talked Liz found it hard to get him out of her head. In fact, it was getting harder with every day that passed. She dismissed the thoughts whenever they came, making excuses like: I am just lonely, he's not that attractive, he's probably sleeping with another student already, I still love Tom, it's too soon. Yet they didn't help her when she was sitting in his class, finding herself daydreaming about him. Liz could remember almost everything about their night now, and it had been good. Too good to discard it and she wished now that the memory would finally start fading away.
She jumped on her bike and started to pedal, the chain making the most unusual cracking noises as she did so. It was old and rusty and the sound probably a completely normal thing for such an old bike but at least she could still remember how to ride it.
Liz had just driven around a few corners and reached the main street when there was a snapping sound and the pedals ceased to react. She came to a halt within a few metres. She got off the bike to examine the damage, hoping a passing stranger would be helpful and know how to put a chain back on when she saw the disaster. The old, rusty chain had snapped in two and even though she wasn't an expert Liz knew that there was no quick and easy way of fixing this.
"Can this awful day get any worse?" she said aloud, almost yelled it in fact and gave her old bike a good kick, "Fuck!"
"Uhm, can I help you?" a familiar voice said behind her.
Liz knew who it was before she turned around. Red was sitting in his car, window rolled down and smiled apologetically in her direction.
Yes, apparently, it could get worse.
"What do you want?" Liz demanded angrily.
"I saw you beat up your bike and stopped. Is there something I can help you with?"
"Go away!" Liz fastened her bike to the nearest pole and started walking. She would just get it later.
"Looks like you need a new chain," Red, who had gotten out of his car as quickly as possible, said as he examined the damage.
"Oh, you don't say," she rolled her eyes.
"Wow, someone is having a crappy day. Where were you off to? I was just on my way to do some shopping. Maybe I could give you a lift?" he suggested.
Liz sighed. She really could think of better ways to get him out of her mind that stepping into his car but they appeared to have the same destination and she really, really didn't feel like walking.
"Sorry," she said sincerely, "You're right. I'm really having a bad day. I was just on my way to get groceries and then this happened," Liz pointed at the bike and had to refrain from kicking it again.
"So," he raised his eyebrows, "Do you want that lift or not?"
"Fine," Liz said and started walking towards the car.
Sitting next to him didn't turn out to be as awkward as she thought it would be. He asked her what store she would like to go to and when Lizzie replied that she didn't really care as long as they had groceries Reddington made the decision for her. He asked her how she had been, said that he had already graded her latest coursework, that it was good and she would be getting it back on Monday morning.
"I'm cooking dinner tonight for a friend and his wife who are in town. I also need to buy a cookbook cause I have no idea what I'd be doing otherwise," he admitted.
Liz started to laugh. "What, you invite people for dinner and you can't cook?"
"Well, they sort of invited themselves. I had no choice, besides he is letting me use his summer cottage and boat at the Welsh coast next weekend."
"Summer cottage in December?" she asked in disbelief.
"It's still nice during the winter and I want to go fishing."
Liz said nothing, she knew better than to argue with a man over manly hobbies like fishing and they had also reached the supermarket. She was about to grab her own cart, when Red stopped her.
"I don't need much, we can put it in one," he said, "Come on."
"What if someone from university sees us? It looks like we're shopping together."
Red shrugged. "We are."
"But what will they think?" Liz asked. She wasn't keen on being the subject of gossip.
"Don't worry, Lizzie. I've been shopping here for years and I haven't seen one familiar face. Now come on."
He was right. The supermarket was filled with lots of stressed out people who probably could think of better ways to spend their Saturday morning than with standing in line. Red was first in line to pay and when the cashier had finished scanning the articles he quickly removed to barrier that separated her items from his.
"Keep going," he told the cashier.
"Wait, what?," Liz, who had been lost in her own thoughts, intervened, "No way. These are mine and I'm gonna pay for them."
"Ignore her," Red turned back to the cashier, "I'm paying."
Liz put her arms akimbo. "No way. You're not paying for my groceries."
"Well, which one is it gonna be?" the cashier asked impatiently.
"I'll pay."
"No, he won't."
"We could keep this going for another hour and really piss off anyone in line behind us or you can just accept and let me pay," Red winked at her, knowing she really didn't want to anger all those people behind her. He turned back to the woman behind the register and said: "I'm paying."
Liz started packing the groceries, still mad at Red and vowed to herself to pay him back as soon as they were in the car.
"Why did you insist on paying?" she asked angrily as they headed back to the parking lot.
Red shrugged. "You seemed to be having such a bad day, I thought a nice gesture would cheer you up."
"Well, it doesn't," Liz said, "It makes me feel like a little girl who can't pay for her own shopping."
She caught Red looking at her as if he was trying to determine if she had a problem with not being in control, which was true, but even if he had figured her out, he didn't show it.
"Well, I'm sorry if I made you feel this way. But hey, if you want to you can do something nice for me in return and we're even," he suggested.
"I'll think about it," she said grudgingly.