AN: From the idea of what if Liz hadn't been so easy to get a-hold of that day Reddington surrendered himself. SO many ways this could go. Hospital, Family Emergency, Early Morning Yoga, etc. Hope you enjoy the way I chose to spin this. Would love to see some other ways it could go and may explore that later.

This is going to be a short piece. I'm planning on only 2-3 chapters as inspiration hits.

Hernandez POV-

"-and he'll only speak to Elizabeth Keen," explained the voice through the phone, tone self-important and forceful.

"Well I'm sorry Harold you're just going to have to find some other angle to work with this criminal of yours. My department has been training her and working with her even while she was still going through Quantico for over a year now and we're not giving her up. Officially yes, she just entered the FBI but she's been making great headway for us on numerous cases. Quite frankly I'm willing to pull strings to keep her too.

She's efficient, supremely focused, ruthless yet compassionate, fluent in three languages, already integrated with the others whom she is scheduled to work with, and I'm positive we've barely tapped the wellspring of her potential. She is the best profiler we've had come out of the academy in recent years and from the scant information you've offered me it doesn't sound to me like you'll be using her profiling skills- instead as a bargaining chip for someone who should be going to jail that you've been after for years if you tell it right."

"According to our asset he's willing to take down complete organizations Walker, if we secure her help. Besides how do you know she's not somehow involved in this mess. I want access to her for interrogation at the least."

"Sorry Harold, I'm not risking one of my agents for you. I know how you work and I've seen your distain for non-field workers in the past. If you want Keen, you're going to need someone to fight in your corner for her. For now, this discussion is over."

The salt and pepper haired director forcefully hung-up the phone fuming for a moment at the potential loss of someone he worked well with and had his sights on for years. A moment of thought later he picked up the phone again. He had some calls to make in order to keep a member of his team.

RPOV-

"Donald I do know who you are, and I can assure you that you are not Elizabeth Keen. You wouldn't suit her clothing either so for the innocence of my eyes please, do not try. Now go get her and stop wasting both of our precious time," I blandly snark at the rather plain and stupid agent that has been attempting to follow me for the last couple years. Just the newest in a long list of incompetent idiots.

"Listen Reddington, we're having an issue getting a hold of this Keen."

I force my features to a state even blanker than their previous composition. She should be starting at the FBI today, which means one of my informants has vastly screwed up. I feel a muscle in my jaw twitch in near feral annoyance. Hmm, how much do I tip my hand here?

"Lost one of your own people have you? Rather pathetic, Donald. However, not my concern. You clearly heard my specifications, I am not going to communicate anything useful to you unless it is through Elizabeth Keen. Although if you would like to spend some time alleviating my boredom going over your vast array of mistakes over the years could be interesting. Not very good for the Zamani situation, but interesting for me at least."

Donald swears under his breath, how uncouth. "Look Reddington give us some good faith information here. We're having some diplomacy issues regarding Keen."

I laugh loudly and mirthlessly at his statement, though a part of me is curious what the hell my informants have missed with regard to Elizabeth.

"Donald, I've given myself into the FBI. That is the best good faith movement you are ever going to receive in your lifetime."

EPOV-

"Elizabeth, we've got a situation. Car park in five, feel free to bring your information," my new (officially at least) boss states seriously and I look up from my folder. It is the accumulated information on the serial killer I'm attempting to profile. I'm a bit shocked but I grab my gun and jacket along with the folder and trot to the garage.

To say I am thrown off-guard by the run-down of information Agent Hernandez gives me would be a monstrous understatement. I barely have time to process this random criminal off the Most Wanted List wants to talk to me before I'm handing my folder off for safe keeping to Hernandez and we're being escorted through an old building that is obviously a secret off-shoot site for the FBI.

Ressler as he introduced himself to my boss is glaring intermittently at me. It doesn't take much to conclude that he thinks I'm involved in this disaster-in-the-making somehow. I'm not, and though I can easily handle his distain (it's not anything new to me) I am glad that Hernandez is backing me here. Having someone you semi-trust in your corner is always nice. Plus Hernandez was present for my polygraph about a year or so ago when I was asked to first start consulting with his team. He knows I have no major criminal connections.

I'm introduced to Assistant Director Cooper who has obviously chosen condescending and suspicious as the appropriate reaction here. Goes to show that assholes in power are not always the most intelligent beings; because obviously let's get on the wrong side of the bargaining chip straight from the get-go why don't we?

"Agent Keen. Before we continue I have some questions for you," he states and I merely blink at him before glancing over to Hernandez.

"It was you Harold who insisted on us being here and it being a time sensitive matter. We are in the middle of our own cases, plus I have informed you multiple times that I vouch for Agent Keen. Feel free to ask her questions but try to keep this on point won't you?" Hernandez asks. My boss is Latin-American and very expressive. Slightly younger than A.D. Cooper, however he is strict but fair, and willing to back his people one hundred percent. I'm feeling rather grateful for him head hunting me at the moment instead of possibly falling under Cooper's jurisdiction. I haven't been in his presence long but his body language speaks volumes.

"Very well. Agent Keen have you ever had any connection to Raymond Reddington? Do you know why he has chosen you?"

"No," I reply my voice cold and sure. "To both questions. Of course it is no coincidence that he has chosen the first day for me to start work officially, but- considering the little I have been briefed about him- I would conclude that he chose me in the hopes that someone new would be easy to manipulate. I'm sure he is very good at just that with the majority of the people that enter his life, but he also doesn't know me very well if that is the case."

I pause a moment as Ressler snorts in disbelief and Cooper looks skeptical. Hernandez just nods at my conclusions in semi-support. Cooper doesn't seem set on continuing to speak at the moment (likely wanting me to fill the silence) so I decide to move this along. Something about my main case is nagging at me and I would like to get back to it sometime today.

"Sir, if you don't have any more questions at the moment, or anymore information on Reddington to impart to me, you did state that this was time-sensitive. And if it isn't the case Special Agent Hernandez has me working on is."

The assistant director's mouth hardens at my near disrespect. "Fine, let's see how you handle this."

"Just like how we usually play this Agent Keen. It gets too much at any point move the conversation to a different focus then cut it off and you can come back to him later," Hernandez reassures me once we get to the holding area. I nod sharply. I straighten my suit jacket and take a deep breath before opening the door. My low heals click on the metals stairs then the concrete as I sedately make my way towards this major criminal.

"Elizabeth Keen, how nice of you to come visit me. I hear from our friends watching you're quite busy."

"I am actually Mr. Reddington. I'm in the middle of a serial killer case, not to mention I'm consulting on a drug smuggling line coming in from Mexico. But we're not here to talk about me, we're here to talk about you."

"Serial Killers? Nasty business," he replies his voice semi-mocking, then his tone switches. "You got rid of your highlights. You look much less Baltimore."

I keep my face closed but feel a deep twinge of unease in my gut. I decide to follow his lead and forcefully change the subject too. "Why don't you tell me about Zamani, Mr. Reddington? That is why I'm here is it not?"

"You can call me Reddington or Red, Lizzie. We will be working closely together after all."

I pause a moment and examine his smirk; the look in his eyes. "I prefer Agent Keen Mr. Reddington or Elizabeth if you must. My name is not Lizzie. Besides I very much doubt we will be working together very long. I am in another department after-all, not counter terrorism. I'm sure there are better profilers in Assistant Director Cooper's department that are better suited to be your contact person. Besides I'm nothing special. Just your plain run of the mill profiler." I purposefully hint at not being his contact to see how he'll react. I don't think I'll get much but I want to see how he'll handle the possibility of not getting his way.

"Oh I think you're wrong on multiple counts there, Lizzie. I think you're very special. Besides with everything I have to give you will be moved departments. Just think, I'm going to give you Ranko Zamani- someone who the FBI believed was dead only short hours ago. I'm going to make you famous, Lizzie." His tone is such a mix of determination, amusement and steel that I almost believe him.

"And what if I don't want to be famous? Is my opinion not going to be taken into account here at all, Mr. Reddington?"

He grins at me. "Ahh, there is it that spirit that makes you so interesting, Lizzie. You know we're not so different you and I. We've both struggled and lost and fought. You who lost your parents so young. Your father a career criminal, your mother who died from shame."

I feel a wave of ice taking over my body at his words. How in the creepy fuck does he know these things about me? "We'll have to agree to disagree on that point I believe," I reply, and internally I wince- my tone there wasn't nearly as monitored and in control as it should have been.

"Enough about me- give me some information about Zamani, Reddington or I'm going back to my other cases."

And then, finally, Reddington gives me- us- the information I was brought here to receive.