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The sun is shining, a light breeze is blowing, and Red's hand is warm in hers.
It's a beautiful day for a walk in the park, the sunlight streaming down through the surrounding foliage, giving the atmosphere a luscious green tint, while the scent of honeysuckle floats in the air. There's couples, children, and dogs all enjoying the day around them, making for a pleasing background of wordless chatter and distant laughter, but it's not so crowded that Red and Liz can't walk side by side, trailing leisurely behind a skipping Agnes and laughing Dembe and Mrs. French. Keeping a watchful eye on her daughter, Liz is surprised by how much she's enjoying herself with Red, slightly removed from the other members of their group, and happy to just be.
With him.
(And it's still a little surreal to be walking hand in hand, shoulders brushing and fingers tangling, so shortly after she was injured and they made their peace and he asked her to do the impossible -
No. She won't spoil the day by thinking about what she's going to do. Later.)
As they stroll aimlessly together, Liz focuses on just the feeling of his hand around hers, the pavement under her feet, and the sound of Red's voice. He's currently telling her a rather colorful story about the time he tried to steal a sailboat from a group of Arabian pirates and she's long since given up on trying not to look amused, instead laughing freely at the wild gestures of the hand she's not currently holding and his descriptive word choices, not missing his delighted glances at her out of the corner of her eye.
" - and I can sail a boat in my sleep, Lizzie, I assure you, but it's remarkably difficult to concentrate when you're being chased in circles around the boom by a truly irate first mate - "
By the time he weaves his elaborate story to an end, she's dabbing tears of laughter from her eyes and Red's chuckles are dying down until they're both left with smiles. They walk past a full bench, occupied by a happy couple and their three small children, all laughing and tossing a yellow ball around, and a panting jogger on their other side, heading the opposite way. They round a bend in the path and a small lake comes into view, the breeze carrying a light mist that cools Liz's face, as her ears are greeting with the pleasing sound of lapping water.
Liz turns her gaze ahead to her daughter, walking happily ahead of them in between Dembe and Mrs. French, and clutching her newly acquired toy sailboat.
"Speaking of stolen sailboats and angry pirates," Liz prompts. "How did you know they're Agnes' new favorite thing?"
"Oh, she happened to mention it during one of your afternoon rests the other day," Red says idly, making Liz smile at the thought of them spending time together while she was recovering from her gunshot wound. "I was rather surprised if I'm honest. Last I heard, it was all things princesses for her."
"Oh, it still is," Liz informs him matter-a-factly. "And the only thing better than princesses or pirates are -"
"- pirate princesses."
"- pirate princesses."
They say it at the same time, only to glance at each other in surprise and delight, Liz's face splitting into a huge grin and Red letting out a low chuckle.
"And did you tell her the story about the Arabian pirates?"
"Certainly," Red smiles. "Or an age-appropriate version, anyway. She adored it."
"Of course she did," Liz murmurs quietly, shaking her head ruefully, her eyes straying to the sunlight bouncing off the calm surface of the lake.
(And she thinks of the other stories Red has apparently been telling her daughter, stories about Russian princesses and beautiful palaces, and smiles to herself.)
"As soon as I saw how enthralled she was," Red continues, oblivious to her musings. "I knew she'd love to have a little boat of her own. Dembe and I went to the nearest toy store and I'll admit I was torn between the sailboat and a rather impressive cargo ship, but I thought that maybe a little too -"
Red suddenly cuts himself off, and Liz looks away from the shimmering water to glance over at him, the brim of his fedora shading his eyes from the reflecting light, but not hiding the way he's biting the inside of his cheek, the twitch under his left eye going mad as he determinedly avoids her gaze.
"…A little too what?" she prompts curiously, confused by his reaction.
Red just shakes his head, a little too quickly to be reassuring. "Oh, nothing. Anyway, I settled on the sailboat and she seems to like it, don't you think?"
Taken aback by the obvious sidestep, but deciding to let the odd moment pass with an internal shrug, Liz hums her agreement, looking back to Agnes as she hands her boat up to Dembe, laughing with delight as he takes it and navigates it through an imaginary storm in the air high above her head, complete with rather convincing wave and thunder sound effects.
"You spoil her," Liz mutters to Red, but with no real reprimand in her voice, glancing sideways at him as they continue to walk closer to the water, the dappled sunlight filtering through the tree leaves above them and creating beautiful patterns on his tan skin.
He looks playfully affronted at her statement, turning to meet her eyes with a gentle frown on his face. "Of course," he says, as though it's obvious and expected.
(And Liz can only stare back at him with a faint smile, feeling unspeakably grateful that there's at least one other person in the world who loves her little girl as much as she does.)
Liz strokes his thumb with hers.
Then the little girl in question suddenly skids to a stop in front of them.
"Pinky, Pinky!"
Red breaks their stare to give Agnes his full attention at once. "Yes, my dear?"
"Can we go try my new boat in the water?"
Red smiles, clearly delighted at the suggestion. "What a wonderful idea, Agnes, I'd love to! But I think we should ask your mother first, don't you?"
Agnes turns her pleading brown eyes immediately to Liz. "Please, Mommy, please?"
Liz pretends to think about it for a moment, teasing them both, because there's absolutely no one else she would trust so completely with her child and Red should know that by now.
"Oh, all right, go ahead," she says with an over-exaggerated sigh and a grin she can't quite smother, followed by the sound of Agnes' delighted cheers. "But stay with Red, okay, baby? No running off!"
"Okay, Mommy! Let's go, Pinky!" Agnes cries, and she's already hurrying for the water without waiting for Red, leaving him chuckling by Liz's side and still holding her hand.
"You're sure?" he asks quietly, glancing at her questioningly.
"Of course," she replies easily. "Have fun. I'll watch from over there." She nods to an unoccupied bench a few feet away under the shade of a large willow tree.
"All right," he murmurs with a smile. "And…thank you, Lizzie."
Liz simply smiles in response, feeling her chest tighten at the pure emotion in his voice, not trusting herself to speak as he squeezes her hand once more before releasing it to hurry over to Agnes. Liz feels the absence of his touch keenly, but tries to ignore it, heading for her bench at a leisurely pace. She spies Dembe and Mrs. French now walking happily arm in arm around the perimeter of the lake, Dembe no doubt keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.
With a lingering smile and a grateful sigh, Liz settles onto her bench, crossing her legs and turning her gaze to Red and Agnes, now crouching together at the water's edge, people and families milling around them. Liz smiles as she watches them, loving the chance to observe Red with her daughter unnoticed, seeing how sweet he is with her, nodding patiently and listening attentively to whatever she wants to tell him.
They're chatting now and, although the few feet between Liz's bench and the water makes it too difficult to make out actual words, Liz can see Agnes chattering away and Red responding in turn, smiling at her in a way that can only be described as adoring.
(Liz can also see Red's hand hovering protectively around Agnes' tiny body, cautious and ready to grab her if she gets too close to the water's edge, a sight that makes her heart hum warmly in her chest.)
Liz watches Agnes turn to look at Red, say something, and giggle for a moment before Red reaches up to remove his fedora and plop it onto Agnes' head instead, the brim falling easily over her eyes and making Red laugh, pure delight written all over his face.
(And for a strange, brief moment, a strong, out-of-place, gust of wind blows across her face and Liz swears she can smell pure seawater in the middle of the D.C. park, making her wrinkle her nose in confusion -)
But the moment is gone as quickly as it came and Liz frowns, blinking rapidly, and refocuses her attention on Red and Agnes. He's pointing to different parts of her boat now, no doubt telling her the proper sea-faring names for everything, and Agnes is listening intently with a focus that's almost comical, something about her expression vaguely familiar to Liz. Then she watches Red lean close to Agnes and point out at the water, his mouth moving animatedly as he explains something to her.
(And the gesture feels oddly familiar to Liz and her eyes droop closed to see -
- they're on the deck of a ship, the wind whipping through her hair and howling in her ears, and she follows the line of his extended arm as he points upwards at the night sky, and all she can see are stars -)
Liz shakes her head, coming abruptly back to the daylight of the park bench, the air mild and fresh as before. Confused and overwhelmed, she tries unsuccessfully to chalk the odd moments up to stress and a lack of sleep, before clearing her throat and looking back to Agnes, her touchstone. She sees Red urge Agnes to kneel down on the lip of concrete at the water's edge, placing a hand carefully on her arm to steady her, before he starts making exaggerated, flowing gestures, looking at though he's explaining currents to her, getting closer and closer to the water before he quickly reaches down and playfully splashes her with a grin, making Agnes squeal and laugh -
(And, with no warning at all, another gust of sea air is transporting her -
- to a large, square room filled with warm brown light and a spinning record player, glasses of alcohol and pecan pie, warm glances and hooded eyes -)
Back in the park, Agnes nods enthusiastically to something Red asks her, handing him her boat and pulling the tiny remote from her jacket pocket as well, nearly vibrating with excitement as Red carefully leans forward to place the sailboat in the water, his suit jacket stretching over his strong, broad shoulders and the muscles in his arms well-defined as they push against the tan fabric of his sleeves, strong and capable as he reaches down -
(- and she's taking his hand and tugging him into a small, dark bedroom, the large bed in the center looking soft and inviting, and he's laying her down with a gentle touch and an awestruck look, his hands and mouth so sweet and reverent she could cry -)
Agnes hops a little on the spot in excitement, her hair blowing gently in the breeze, and Red smiles so widely that Liz can see it from her bench, turning to help her with the remote, pointing at the correct buttons and letting her push them, not rushing her or trying to do anything for her. After a few buttons and soundless laughter from them both, the boat suddenly takes off in the lake, prompting a delighted cheer from Agnes that makes its way over to Liz on the mild breeze. Her and Red look at one another with identical expressions of wonder -
(- and she's lying underneath him, her hips cradling his as he moves slowly inside her, pressing soft kisses to her face as she cries out in passion, feeling more loved and adored than she ever has in her life, seeing different stars very different than the ones outside in the sky above the sea, and she wraps her arms around his scarred back to pull him as close as she possibly can, because she loves him more than anything -)
Liz returns suddenly and regretfully to the present with a gasp, blinking rapidly as a few tears slip down her cheeks, clearing her eyes to see Red following Agnes, who is racing after her boat, chasing happily after her with a speed and agility that belies his age, a dutifulness and protectiveness that comes so instinctively, an enthusiasm and glee of a father -
(And just like that, it's as if her world - off-kilter for so long it somehow became normal - tilts on its axis to right itself, but instead of feeling unbalanced and staggered, she feels more steady and secure than she has in a long, long time. For the first time since the shipping container - since her name was cleared, since she found out she was pregnant and everything she knew about herself changed - Liz feels at peace. Because with the quiet, unexpected, life-changing return of her long-banished memories…she is finally able to recalibrate.)
Breathless and still crying softly, Liz watches Red and Agnes retrieve her boat from the water a little way from where it started out, ending up near a cheerful-looking ice cream cart. Agnes tugs on Red's sleeve to show him, pointing at it, and Liz sees absolutely no hesitation from Red, who nods enthusiastically and takes her hand to hurry over, completely wrapped around her little finger.
(Of course.)
Liz watches them stop about a foot away from the cart, carefully considering the sign full of different flavors, and Red consults Agnes seriously on the choices, their daughter standing close to his side with an adorably business-like expression, before she decisively points to what she wants, and Red nods and steps forward to order.
Liz watches with a silent, blank mind, a tinge of seawater still present on her tongue and her lips still tingling from the simultaneously new and old memory of Red's kisses. Her mind whirls, trying to process the ordinary scene in front of her with the extraordinary revelations she's just had, until she finds it's not really that difficult at all.
(Because Red has simply always loved Agnes as a father, Agnes has always behaved like his daughter, and Liz is the only one playing catch-up.)
Liz watches as Red and Agnes are handed multiple ice creams - Red carefully handing Agnes her cup before accepting the two other cones - and it's only when they start making their way back to her bench that she snaps out of it.
She needs to appear at least somewhat normal, for Agnes' sake.
(Red, however, is another story, and she has to physically restrain herself from running to him and throwing her arms around him, ice creams be damned, because she has a million questions and a thousand answers and one very important thing to tell him, and she has a sneaking suspicion that he's been waiting a very long time to hear it.)
Instead, Liz hurries into action, forcing her frozen limbs to move, swiftly sweeping her hands under her eyes to wipe away any lingering tears, all under the guise of nonchalantly brushing her hair behind her ears, and her hands land back in her lap just as Red and Agnes arrive at the bench.
"Mommy, we brought you ice cream!"
"Oh, what a nice surprise!" Liz cries, as if she hasn't seen the whole thing - and more - as Agnes hops up onto the bench next to her, making herself comfortable against Liz's side before she digs into her cup. "Thank you, baby!"
"It just looked too good to resist on such a beautiful day, didn't it, Agnes?" Red says happily, taking a seat on Agnes' other side, holding a cone for each of them.
"Mhm!" hums Agnes, too involved in her ice cream to offer anything more.
Red turns to Liz with a smile and a proffered ice cream cone, meeting her eyes and looking happier than she's seen him in a long time, and suddenly Liz can't look away, feeling electricity crackling between them for the first time since before she shot the Attorney General and they went on the run.
(Because echoes of her returned memories are still reverberating through her body in tingles and warm, unfamiliar feelings and she's seeing him differently now than she ever remembers seeing him before, staring into his green eyes and wondering how on earth he kept up the pretense after her memories were somehow taken from her of their magical night together - the result of which is sitting between them - when all she wants to do right now is move close, hold him, and see if he still tastes the same as she now blessedly remembers -)
But she's taking too long to react, still staring wordlessly, and Red's carefree expression is slowly morphing into one of concern as he peers at her over Agnes' head, so Liz blinks and huffs a little self-conscious laugh, giving him a shaky smile before reaching for her ice cream cone.
"This one's mine?" she asks, trying not to notice as Red's fingers brush hers in the hand-off, setting off sparks across her skin.
"Yes…" Red murmurs, hesitant and sounding as if he wants to say more.
"We got you butter pecan, Mommy!" Agnes chimes in brightly, swinging her little feet from the bench where they don't quite touch the ground.
At the reminder, Red clears his throat and nods. "Agnes assured me it's your favorite."
"And she's exactly right!" Liz says, turning to press a kiss to the top of Agnes' head. "Thank you for remembering, munchkin, that's so thoughtful of you!"
"You're welcome, Mommy! Me and Pinky got chocolate fudge!" Agnes informs her through a rather large mouthful.
Liz laughs and smooths down Agnes' hair with her free hand, quietly reminding her not to speak with her mouth full.
(And a quick glance at Red's untouched cone tells her that yes, they indeed got the same flavor, because Red has always had a sweet tooth - not to mention a particular affinity for chocolate - and so has Agnes and of course, because like father, like daughter -)
Desperate to distract herself from that particular line of thought for the moment, Liz leans forward to take a lick of her slowly melting ice cream, humming in delight at the cool sweetness on her tongue, before looking up a moment later to find Red still staring at her.
"Lizzie," he murmurs quietly, his voice almost a whisper so as not to alert Agnes. "Is everything alright?"
All right? How could everything be simply…all right? When such life-changing memories have come crashing back to her with such nonchalance and changed…absolutely everything?
Unable to put these feelings into words without startling and unnerving the precious little girl between them, Liz just nods at Red, pressing her lips together to try and contain the tears threatening to burst forth at any moment from the sheer emotion of it all. But, judging by the way the furrow between Red's brows deepens, she is completely unconvincing.
Ah well.
She's already making plans to speak to him at the earliest possible moment, perhaps when Agnes inevitably crashes on the way home from the sugar high she's currently inhaling. She'll tell him in the simplest terms that they're scrapping the plan - the stupid, ridiculous, idiotic plan - because there's no way in hell that she'll even contemplate taking Agnes' father from her, nevermind that there was no way she was ever going to be able to point her gun and pull the trigger -
(And hopefully - once she's explained that witnessing him playing with their daughter brought back all the stolen memories she's unknowingly been searching for since the moment they were taken - she can tell him she wants to go away with him. Him and Agnes, somewhere far away and sunny, somewhere only they know. And just the thought of it is so intensely pleasant, she has to bite her lip to try and stay silent -)
"Agnes, honey, you have ice cream on your nose," Red's amused voice suddenly intrudes on Liz's private musings, and she glances down to find Agnes' nose suspiciously clean.
"Huh?" Agnes asks, nearly going cross-eyed in an effort to look, and completely missing Red as he darts forward to dot her formerly clean nose with some of his own chocolate ice cream.
"Got you!" Red teases.
"Pinky!" Agnes cries in protest, wiping her nose on her sleeve as giggles overtake her tiny body.
And tears of joy rapidly fill Liz's eyes at the adorable scene between her daughter and her daughter's father, and she simply can't contain it any longer, all the re-discovered - but never really lost - love for the long-suffering man sitting on the other side of their child finally bubbling over.
So, Liz brings her free hand up to gently cup Red's face and turn it toward her, leaning forward to close the gap between them and press her lips to his before his wide grin can fade. And the long-awaited meeting of their lips - in many ways the first for Liz but not for Red - still manages to feel so wonderfully, perfectly familiar and right, that Liz can't help but sigh contentedly against his mouth. She manages to catch his bottom lip in between hers, tasting the chocolatey flavor of his ice cream and just a hint of his unique flavor that tickles pleasantly at her memory before she slowly and regretfully pulls back, opening her eyes to see his completely shocked expression.
(And she thinks idly that she can't wait for the chance to continue in private, looking forward to the opportunity to thank him, as fervently as she knows how, for this day together in the park.
Her fantasy.
And everything that comes after.)
And Red is still sitting there as frozen as his ice cream used to be, staring at her like he did that wonderful night on the ocean, looking up at the stars while she gazed at him and fell head over heels in love, and it just feels so good to remember that Liz simply smiles at him, putting her arm around Agnes and taking his hand once again in hers, feeling him grip back automatically as she goes back to her ice cream, feeling beautifully, blissfully, utterly grateful.
(Because, for much too long, she had lost track of her north star, her internal compass misleading and askew, but now? Now, she's finally found her way home again.)
Savoring her mouthful of ice cream, Liz swallows before she turns to Red and finally answers him with words.
"No, Raymond. Everything's…perfect."
(Because now…all is just as it should be.)