Liz placed the last file on top of her stack of completed paperwork. Finally.

It seemed like the paperwork never stopped at the Post Office. At least it was Friday.

She glanced at the time on her phone. Shit, already 8:30pm. So much for going home at a reasonable hour and relaxing for once.

A soft knock at her office door brought her out of her thoughts. Wondering who would still be at the office at this hour, Liz tiredly tossed out, "Yeah?"

The door opened and Samar's face peeked in with a smile.

"Oh hey, Samar. What are you still doing here?"

"Same as you, I expect. Plenty of paperwork to catch up on."

"Yep, you caught me. And on a Friday night no less."

"Well, you finished?"

Liz nodded, sighing out her tension and rolling her shoulders to stretch the muscles.

"Me too," Samar replied. "I was thinking we could go grab some late dinner and drinks. We deserve to unwind after this week."

Liz took a moment to consider her options. She was tired and had been looking forward to watching Netflix in her pajamas, but then again, she hadn't had much of a social life since Raymond Reddington entered her life.

And she liked Samar, she really did. It would be nice to get to know her a little better. Liz had been wary of her at first, but after Samar had been willing to die alone in the airport to protect Liz from the virus, she'd developed a soft spot for her new partner.

Of course, this invitation reminded her of Samar's last invitation, months and months ago, right after Samar had joined the task force. Quite a bit of time had passed between then and now, and Liz felt terrible that it had apparently taken Samar so long to feel comfortable with approaching her again socially. Remembering how rudely she'd shot Samar down last time, Liz was even more determined to make it up to her now.

She shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Samar's grin brightened her face. "Great! You ready to go?"

Liz glanced down at her phone, disappointment in her gut at the lack of text messages.

"Um, yeah, just give me five minutes? I'll meet you by the elevator."

Samar smiled in response before popping her head back out and closing the door.

Liz shut down her computer and made sure her paperwork was neatly stacked in the "Out" bin at the edge of her desk. She stared warily down at her phone, before giving in, leaning back into her chair with a sigh, and unlocking the touch screen.

She tapped the messages icon and stared at his name: Nick's Pizza. Red. She hadn't talked to him in a week. She didn't really know what to say.

She stared at the last few texts they'd exchanged anyway. Well, mostly texts that Red had sent before giving up on receiving any type of response from her.

"Lizzie, please call me back."

The next day: "Please don't shut me out over a profoundly foolish mistake."

Two days later: "I shouldn't have said what I said."

Then nothing. It had been four days since his last text.

She was losing her mind. She desperately wanted to respond, but she just didn't know what she could say at this point.

There was nothing to say.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, startling her out of her reverie.

Samar.

"Hurry up, I need alcohol."

Liz huffed a tiny chuckle at her co-worker's enthusiasm.

But yeah, drinks. Drinks would be good. Drinks were just what she needed.

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So much for dinner. Unless you counted nachos and mozzarella sticks as dinner. (Which Liz did, considering her usual unhealthy eating habits.)

Three beers in and the carbs and cheese weren't soaking in the alcohol fast enough. She was a bit of a lightweight, she supposed. She could feel it. The drinks were making her want to text Red back even more, but they hadn't magically gifted her with the knowledge of what to say.

For the millionth time that night, Liz pulled her phone out of her bag, checking the screen just to make sure she hadn't missed a new text from him.

"Okay Liz, what's up with the phone? You've been obsessively checking it all night."

Liz flushed. "Oh, nothing, just...keeping track of the time, I don't want to stay out too late."

Samar could see right through her. Liz could tell even in her buzzed state, by the slight downturn of Samar's lips and the concerned crease between her brows. And they both knew she was a terrible liar.

Samar quickly shrugged it off, smirking, trying to lighten the mood. "Am I horrible company?"

Liz's eyes widened. "No, no of course not! This has been really fun. I'm glad we're spending some time together away from work."

Samar's face became serious again, a no-nonsense look emanating from her features. "Then spill. The truth this time."

Liz groaned and leaned her head forward into her hands, trying to hide her embarrassment.

"Samar, I really don't want to talk about it. I don't think we should talk about it anyway."

"Why?"

"Because it involves co-workers and I don't want to invite the entire office into my business."

"Reddington?"

Liz's face flushed immediately. "No. I mean- Look, I said I don't want to talk about it."

Samar's features twisted into concern once again. She didn't say anything, not wanting to push Liz. She had a feeling she knew what was going on though. At least a little bit. Maybe.

Samar sighed and frowned, looking down into her glass of wine. "Okay, if you say so."

"It's just, I'm sorry-"

Samar cut her off. "It's fine, no need to apologize. It's your life. Just... if you decide you do want to talk about it, you can, you know. With me."

Liz smiled softly. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

They lapsed into silence for a few moments, avoiding each other's eyes, Liz chugging down the last of her beer.

"One more round? Netflix can wait a little longer." Liz smirked.

Laughing, Samar nodded and flagged down their waiter.

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When Liz arrived home, definitely a little drunk, she decided to forego her Netflix plans, chugged some water, and climbed straight into bed.

She dreamt of Red. Just as she had every night for the past week.

Sometimes they were simple dreams, dreams where his presence was just there, reassuring her. Sometimes she woke confused, unable to remember the dreamed conversations that had left her in her confused state. Sometimes she woke in a cold sweat after dreaming of Red bleeding, gasping, dying.

This one had been pretty simple, nothing distressing or heartbreaking. But she woke with a pounding headache and the certainty that she had to go see him even if she had no clue what she would say when she did.

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She showed up at his apartment, the one that only she, Red, and Dembe knew about. She swallowed and took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

Dembe answered, took one look at her, and stepped aside, allowing her entrance without any protest.

She walked with purpose into the living room and found Red sitting on his couch with a book in his hands, his cat in his lap, and glasses perched on his nose.

At the sight of him, Liz had the urge to turn right back around and leave. Why had she even come?

But before she could run, Red turned the page and glanced away from his book long enough to spot her standing in the doorway. He did a double take, a look of surprise on his face. The hand that had been stroking the cat's head stilled.

"Lizzie."

She just continued to stand in the doorway, unable to move towards him or speak.

"What are you doing here, Lizzie?"

"Honestly? I have no idea."

Red searched her face, the face of someone completely lost. He swallowed and the tic under his eye came to life.

"Lizzie, please know that I never meant for it come out that way. I am terribly sorry for what happened. And I'm sorry that you had to see me like that. And those text messages – you needed space, and I should have respected that."

Liz just stared at him, a silence stretching between them.

"Lizzie-"

She cut him off abruptly. "I should go, Red. I don't know why I came. I... I wanted to see you, I guess to say I'm sorry for leaving the way I did, and for ignoring your messages. That was juvenile, but-" She shook her head and turned around, not allowing time for him to respond. "I should go," she repeated firmly, disappearing through the entry hall, out the door, and out of his apartment building.

Liz slipped into her car, letting out a shaky breath as her forehead inadvertently moved down to rest on the steering wheel. Just then, her phone chirped.

"Shit," she muttered to herself, fully expecting it to be Red. Hadn't he just told her he shouldn't have sent those text messages?

She let out a sigh of relief when she saw Samar's name instead of Nick's Pizza.

"Are you alive?"

Liz chuckled, typing out a quick response: "Barely."

It was the truth, and not just because of the previous night's alcohol intake.

Her phone buzzed just a few seconds later.

"Same. Glad you made it home okay."

Liz smiled. Maybe the drought in her social life was coming to an end.

"We should do that again sometime. I had fun." Liz hit send after reading over her reply once.

"Definitely! See you Monday" came Samar's quick response.

Liz tossed her phone into the passenger seat next to her bag and drove away from Red's apartment, trying to forget that she had even gone to see him in the first place.