Part One

He had weighed his options for as long as he felt like he could, and he still wasn't sure what would be considered the right thing to do. That was what he was trying to do these days, but that didn't mean that it came easily for him. After things had settled out again - the wedding that hadn't been quite what they'd planned, the baby, and everything else that had snowballed into the chaos that seemed to simply be their lives these days - Cooper had reached out to him with a proposal to hire him on here and there for various pieces of information gathering. It kept him busy, brought in honest money, but still allowed him to avoid getting shot at, which was always a plus. It usually worked out very well, but this particular assignment had led to an uncomfortable bit of information.

Tommy Markin was a name that Jacob wouldn't have known if it hadn't been for a story that Donald Ressler never would have told him if the FBI agent hadn't thought they were facing death. Apparently he was a politician these days, climbing the local ranks in Detroit and looking to climb even higher than that. His connection to the weapons' trafficker that the task force was looking into would have been nearly non-existent without the the knowledge from Ressler. Jacob hadn't even been sure it was the same man when his contact had let the name slip, but he had dug into it and now he had no question. His connection to the arms dealers wouldn't make or break the FBI's case - in fact, they wouldn't give Markin a second glance - but it would mean something to a certain irritating Boy Scout that Jacob Phelps now found himself standing outside the apartment door of, not certain if he should bothering knocking or not. The file in his hand was thin and he had a copy that he had already sent over to Cooper to finish up this particular job for them. Ressler probably wouldn't even see it, much less know, if Jacob simply dropped it, and that might be better after everything. Handing a man who had lost his father a brittle thread like this one was seemed less and less like a good thing and more like a slap in the face the longer he thought on it. It wasn't like he'd be able to do anything with it anyway.

That finally decided, Jacob turned to leave and nearly ran into the FBI agent he had spent the last several hours arguing with himself over as he rounded the corner towards the exit of the building. He paused, his expression shifting at lightning speed from confusion, recognition, and then masking over entirely with that somewhat lazy smirk of his. "Ressler. I thought I'd just missed you. I sent over the information that Cooper had me looking into, but wasn't sure it go to you when I didn't hear back." He really was a better liar than that, he reminded himself. Apparently working with the FBI regularly was knocking him off his game.

"So you made a special trip to my place to bring it to me?" Ressler eyed him suspiciously before nodding to the file in his hand. "That for me then?"

Jacob immediately pulled it back out of the other man's reach. "I was just in the neighborhood so I thought I'd drop by and see if you got what I sent through. Never know with encrypted information being sent through." It was seriously the most absurd excuse he'd ever come up and finally he sighed, rolling his eyes at himself. "I'm losing my touch. I really am. I blame the fact that I'm stuck around people like you these days."

"Yeah, it's all my fault you can't come up with a better lie." Ressler sighed then continued. "Look, if you have something you want to show me or discuss can we do it upstairs? I had a crappy day and there's a beer and change of clothes waiting for me."

Jacob sighed. Well, he'd tried. He would just give the file to Ressler and be on his way, washing his hands clean of the whole fiasco. This is what he got for trying to do something nice for someone. It was usually better to leave that to anyone but him. He opened his mouth to tell Ressler to just take the file, but the other man was already brushing past him, making beeline for the stairs and starting up towards the apartment that Jacob had just left. With a huff the younger man followed, fingers tightening around the thin file in his hand as they moved up the stairs, around the corner, and he watched Ressler pull a key out for the door to open it. He left it open behind him for Jacob to follow in, which he did, and set his jaw. He just needed to get this over with so he could go home. "Listen, this is… I thought you'd want to see this after what you said about your dad out at the cabin with Karakurt," he said in a rush.

Ressler took the file out of his hands and headed to the couch. He slowly opened it without a word and looked over the document. He covered his mouth with his hand at one point before setting the file down and looking over at Jacob. "How did you get this? Who all knows?" He didn't wait for Jacob to answer but stormed away and disappeared to another room. Jacob wasn't sure if he should follow or not but when Ressler's muffled voice came from the other room he headed that way. "I've been waiting for something. Anything to connect the dots." Ressler was digging through a box in what looked like an office. "What you found…," Ressler paused then looked up at Jacob. He straightened, as if realizing he was allowing Jacob in to this world of his. "And you don't care. Thank you for the file," he said as if he was dismissing the younger man.

Jacob's dark blue gaze moved over the box that Ressler had been looking through, recognizing what was probably a very detailed collection of information that must have taken years to gather. He wasn't sure how long the fed had been looking into his father's murder, but he would wager it had started pretty early in life, and that he was a lot deeper into it than he cared for anyone around him to know. The former operative swallowed, his throat feeling a little dry, and he forced himself to look at Ressler. "The information that was part of the case Cooper had me looking into was in the file I gave to him, but, uh, I didn't mention that to anyone else. Not my secret to tell." He should turn and leave. He had a family to go home to and a nice, quiet life that he'd worked so damn hard for, but something kept his boots rooted to Ressler's wooden floors. "I gotta ask… you've got a load of information there, and you're… okay at your job -" he smirked a little at the intentional swipe, but moved immediately past it- "so why haven't you brought this guy in yet? Looked like to me, from what I saw, that he's only had it easy since he murdered your old man."

"I'm gonna ignore that jab." Ressler rolled his eyes. "Tommy Markin is untouchable. Yeah, he's had it easy since he had that piece of crap dealer kill my dad. That was a message to anyone who even thought about going against him. You are either with him or you're six feet under. No one will go after him unless there is an airtight case." He kicked a box that was on the floor. "I've collected all this. And still that smug son of a bitch walks. He dictates policy in Detroit. His level of corruption is higher than I ever thought. I need more to take him and everyone who protected him down." Ressler took a deep breath and locked eyes with Jacob. "There are days where I think just ending him would be better."

"Yeah, well, I'll tell you from experience that leaving a trail of bodies behind you catches up eventually," Jacob grumbled, running a hand through his dark hair and it stood on end. "And you're not that type anyway. You've got too much of a conscious. It'd put you in so deep you'd never get out."

"Hasn't caught up to Markin yet. Seems to be working for him pretty well actually." Ressler moved past Jacob and headed to the fridge. He pulled two beers out and handed one to Jacob. "I don't expect you to understand. He had my father executed. I watched my mother crumble to the ground when his Lieutenant came to give her the news. I look at that flag every day," he said with force as he pointed to the folded flag on his shelf, "and I think how is it fair he's breathing and my dad is dead." Ressler took a sip. "Liz...she'd have field day if she knew I was telling you anything personal." Then his eyes grew wide. "Liz doesn't know right?"

Jacob shook his head. "No, I figured that was between you and her. Like I said, not my secret to tell. I may get an earful for it later, but… it'll be you she's mad at." He offered a quirked smile and popped the top off of his own beer. "It sucks, what he did. Guess it's good you caught me before I left. You can add it to your pile in there." He took a long drink from his bottle. "I can't say I know from my own family or anything, but I remember when Liz's dad was killed. I still haven't forgiven that, so I guess it must be pretty intense if it's someone who raised you."

"It was," he mumbled. "And Tommy was like family, or pretended to be. That makes the betrayal a hundred times worse." Ressler closed his eyes and when he opened them Jacob saw a fire in them he had never seen before. "And that file isn't going in any box. I'm on a flight to Detroit."

"Detroit?" Jacob managed. "You're going to… what? Go arrest him? You just said he was untouchable. I know what was in the file. No matter what you've got, there can't be enough in there for that to be your key piece to put him away." He really did not like the idea of making it a habit talking Donald Ressler out of murdering people. If anything, it should have been the other way around. He wasn't comfortable ever being someone's conscious or reminding them that they had one.

"No, it's not enough to put him away. But, it might be enough to get some people to talk. I know someone...he's hiding something. He knows something. This may get him to talk." Ressler looked hesitant before he continued. "I'm going to take a leave and go do some chatting in Detroit. Can I trust you to keep this between us?"

Jacob frowned. "Liz is going to know something's up. The woman's got a sixth sense for that with me these days, and.." And when it came to Ressler, she would be relentless. He sighed. "Listen, I know it's none of my business, but you know you're too close to this, right? You going off after this on your own is stupid and if this guy has half as many connections as you seem to think he does, you'll be lucky if you make it back to DC."

"Yeah, she'll be curious but I'd rather that than have her worry about me. And she will. She has the baby to worry about." He took a big swig of his beer and didn't speak for a moment or so. "And, I am too close to this, you're right. But, if I don't do this no one will. My dad deserves justice and the people of my hometown don't deserve to have him in any kind of power. So, it's me or no one and this guy gets away with murder and who knows what else."

The dark haired man blinked hard, hating the obvious solution that he really did not want to be staring him in the face. "She's going to worry either way unless you take some sort of back up to keep you from diving too deep into the stupid." Surely he had someone. Anyone. Even as he thought it Jacob knew it was wishful thinking. If he did, they wouldn't be having this conversation.

"Geez, let me just call Samar up and see if she wants to help me on an unauthorized investigation. She'd love that. Or, I could ask Aram. But, not sure how well he'd fare against these people. Or, maybe Cooper. Sure, my boss would love that." He pushed his beer away and rubbed the back of his neck. "Shy of me asking Reddington for help...I'm on my own. You should be happy. You may get rid of me finally," he huffed obviously annoyed. Jacob had a feeling Ressler had come to same conclusion. There was only one person who could back him up, and neither men liked it.

One of the last things he wanted to do was go with Ressler to Detroit, but Liz would never forgive him if he let the man she considered her best friend go off on this alone. He loosed a long breath. "Damn. Listen, book the flight, I'm going home and putting my kid to bed and… figuring out a way to tell Liz that I'm going to be gone for a few days to make sure her idiot partner doesn't get himself killed without worrying her."

Ressler shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Next to him was Tom. He still couldn't believe he was trusting him to have his back in this mess. But, he never had imagined Tom would be the one to bring him information regarding his father. Ressler always imagined Reddington had something he was just waiting on the right time to offer in exchange for a favor but it never happened. And when Liz was on the run that would have been the opportune time for him to play his hand. All these years he had been looking for something to get the ball rolling again on his investigation. And Tom was the one to offer it up. He was conflicted on how to feel. How to feel about Tom. How to feel about going back home after years away. How to feel about seeing them again after the last blow up. He was conflicted about a lot of things. The thing that killed him the most was the idea that he now owed Tom. He owed him a lot.

Cooper had been shocked when Ressler asked for time off to tend to personal matters. He didn't pry even though Ressler knew he was curious. And Liz, was not very happy about any of this. She made him promise to do anything too stupid. She made him make a promise to the baby that "Uncle Donnie" wouldn't be stupid and get himself killed. Yeah, she played the kid card when she wanted something. And now here he was, next to Tom Keen, on his way back home.

"So you have family or anything back in Detroit? I bet you're an only child, aren't you? You definitely remind me of an only child." Tom hadn't actually been looking at him as the words left him like there was no off-button, but he glanced over and gave him an innocent look. "What?"

"You brought a book right? You might as well read it because you won't be writing my life story on this flight." Ressler shifted again in his seat. He wasn't looking to share anymore personal information than necessary.

"It's an hour and a half flight. We're barely going to be in the air before we're descending again. Anyway, it's not like I had any time to do a lot of research before all of this. I don't like to go jump into any kind of op blind." He offered a grin. "So start talking, Donnie. What do I need to know?"

"You know all you need to know for now, Spy Hard." They had lucked out and the plane wasn't full and there was no one seated in the third seat of their row. Still, Ressler wasn't comfortable discussing his family with Tom. He would share what was needed when the time came. If Tom was as good as he said he was he could manage.

"Spy Hard? Really? We gotta work on your nicknames, man," the younger man chuckled, slouching down in the seat a little, his long legs barely fit in behind the seat in front of him. "You have to give me something. I know that this guy has contacts, that he worked with your dad… his partner, right? He's obviously expanded his contacts past just drugs into arms. I got ahold of some old articles about it online last night and it looked like your dad died in the late nineties? So you were what? Sixteen? Seventeen? An ambitious guy can do a lot in that time if he's already got the fear of death worked into everyone around him."

"Sixteen," Ressler offered. "And yeah, Markin was his partner." Ressler didn't add that Markin had been like an uncle to him. And how he overheard a conversation between his dad and Markin one night a few weeks before his dad's death that set him on his quest for justice. No, he wasn't sharing just yet. "I need to talk to a former colleague of my dad's, Mikey Finnegan. Hopefully, I can catch him out and not at home. I don't want to explain your presence to his wife." Ressler cringed inside. Not just a former colleague, but his step father. A man he resented with every bone in his body.

Tom Keen was staring at him now, those dark blue eyes of his studying and picking apart tells that Ressler wasn't even sure that he had. It was a little unnerving, like being under a microscope and as Tom sat up a little straighter again Ressler found himself squaring his own shoulders on instinct. The dark haired man tilted his head a little and then smirked. "What? You think I'm going to embarrass you in front of your friends back home? Who is she?"

"I don't have any friends back home. And who she is is not important," Ressler barked. He was going to avoid seeing her or talking to her as much as possible. And there was no way Tom Keen would meet his mother. "Why do you care so much anyway?"

"Because you seem determined I shouldn't," Tom chuckled, "and I'll admit that makes me curious. I mean, I get not wanting to go back to a place with really crappy memories, but no one's forcing you to go. What, is it your mom or something? She hop into bed with your dad's buddy or something like that?" His words were flippant and his hand danced in the air as he spoke, laughing at the joke that only he found entertaining until Ressler didn't say anything and then the laugh died out and he blinked, turning his gaze on the other man as if he were waiting for him to tell him to roll his eyes and tell him to pull out his book or something.

"I hate you. I really do." Ressler glared at Tom. It was clear he was not going to let it go and he inadvertently hit the nail on the head about his mom and Mikey. He hated Tom's ability to push his buttons and to know what was going on without really knowing. "My mom was grieving and he took advantage." Ressler nodded to the bag at Tom's feet. "Now, will you read your damn book?"

The younger man set his jaw. "So let me get this straight: your dad's partner screwed him over and had him killed. Your dad's friend jumped in bed with his wife just after he died. You're starting to make more sense now."

"Your book. I suggest you read it. Now." Ressler tried to look around and if see if there were any open seats nearby. Maybe sitting next to each other was a bad idea. Tom was doing him a favor after all. Giving the man a black eye wasn't in his best interest right now.

"No, seriously," Tom kept going, "no wonder you took off running all over the world after Reddington. Anything would have been better than going home to that, I guess. So this guy. Mikey. You think he's dirty too?" He blinked in a way that almost looked like an innocent gesture. "Dude, I'm sticking my neck out for you. The least you could do is give me a heads up on what we're facing. You know, if you'd just tell me I could stop guessing."

Perhaps it was time to bite the bullet and just tell the man, Ressler thought. He never spoke of his family or what happened to his dad. It was just too hard and something he didn't like to share. Mikey was his dad's best friend. They had gone to the Academy together and Ressler couldn't remember a birthday that Mikey wasn't at. That didn't mean he wanted his mother to move on from his father so quickly with him. And Mikey thought he could be a surrogate dad to a very angry, pissed off teen. Then there were suspicions he had. Was Mikey dirty like Tommy? Did he play a part in his father's death? Every time he tried to ask he was shut down.

"Do I think he's dirty? I've never had proof. Do I trust him? No. He knows more than he'll say. Is it because he's dirty or scared? I don't know but if he really cared about my father like he claims he would help." Ressler sighed and lowered his head. "I haven't seen them in years. She sends cards. He calls. And I don't want you meeting her because she's going to want to know you, to understand you. It's who she is. And I can't stand to watch her fawn all over you. I may get physically ill."

"Understand me?" Tom snorted. "What is there to understand? I'm your partner's husband. Tell her I'm a teacher. I haven't taught in a couple years, but I can still pull it off enough to pass for this. Don't worry, your mom won't know there's anything different to understand." He gave Ressler a short, mirthless chuckle, and if the other man didn't know better he would have thought the words sounded almost a little bitter. "Figured that one out pretty early on."

Ressler smirked. Sure, if Tom wanted to think he could get something by his mom let him try. It would be amusing for him. His smirk turned to a smile. "Yeah, you go with that then." He looked down at his watch. "Almost there. Better get in to Teacher Tom mode, Spy Hard."

Jacob had been to a lot of places in his life. Between fostcare and his time working for Bud he had been to six of seven continents, most of the major cities in the US, and countless others across the world. He had stayed in a group home for exactly one week in Detroit when he was ten, and then he had slipped out before the sun had come up on the eighth day, walked down to the bus station, and planned on hopping on a Greyhound to LA. The money he had swiped from the lady that ran the home wouldn't get him nearly that far and he'd been picked up before he got on the bus anyway. Thankfully she didn't want him back, so he'd been shuffled off again and hadn't seen the city since. If it had changed since then, he had no idea. He had done his best to forget it.

"So what's first? Your folks' house?"

"My mom's house? Yeah, sure. Why the hell not. It will be fun, Teacher Tom," Ressler chuckled.

"Here's an idea: how about you not call me that? See, this is why you can't go undercover. You would suck at it, and not just because you look like a cop."

"I can handle myself," Ressler muttered as they looked around the lot. Spotting the car they were assigned he moved towards it. "Keys?"

"They're always in the car, but I've got it. I've heard all about your driving skills or lack thereof."

"Look, sometimes hitting a suspect's car is the easiest way to end things," Ressler said in his defense. "And I know this town. I'll drive."

"That sounds like more of an excuse than a reason," Jacob said and shifted his stride to cut the other man off and moved directly for the driver's side of the vehicle.

"It's called a tactical maneuver, pal." Ressler huffed as Jacob opened the driver side door. He opened the back passenger door and dumped his bag back there. "You have that your corduroy jacket and glasses?"

"No, a tactical maneuver is getting in front of them and forcing them into something solid, not being that something solid," Jacob answered, tossing his own bag back over the driver's seat, ignoring the jab about the jacket and glasses. He did, actually, have a pair of glasses in his bag. He'd gotten out of the habit of sleeping in his contacts once life had settled down a little and he didn't feel like he would always be woken by some disaster that needed attention. Now, though, he was starting to regret bringing them. He needed to give Ressler as little ammunition as possible against him. "Where're we going?"

Ressler reached over and turned on the GPS the car had and entered an address then turned to Jacob. "And, whatever gets the job done. Forcing them into something solid or being that something solid...in the end if it stops them that's all that counts."

"See, Donnie boy, we're not so different. We like to finish what we start," Jacob said with a grin and ignored the glare he received as he fished the keys out of the center console and kicked the vehicle into gear. "Seriously, though, you have no taste in cars. We come to Detroit and you can't even get us a good one."

"Not a lot of options last minute. Sorry, I didn't realize you were a car snob."

"Well, I have my preferences," Jacob mused. They drove in silence after that, and a glance over towards the FBI agent showed that his own eyes were fixed on the passing landscape. The GPS took them towards the edge of town and out towards the suburbs and Jacob tried not to groan out loud. Typical. Of course Ressler would have grown up with a little picket fence. He probably had played football with the neighbors out in the street or whatever it was that kids did when they stayed some place long enough to know neighbors. Jacob certainly didn't know from experience.

"I know what you are thinking, but we didn't always have this. We lived in a small apartment in the city until I was 10. My parents worked hard for this home. For me not to get my ass kicked when playing outside. So, it wasn't all rainbows and kittens," Ressler offered.

"Trust me, sooner or later you learn to kick back if you don't have anyone to whisk you away," Jacob answered gruffly as he took a turn onto a street and damn it all if he didn't see a white fence. He didn't know why he was getting so irritable about it. If they didn't need to be close to the Post Office, he'd have already been bugging Liz to move to a place with a yard, even if it was a small one like their town house had had. That's what parents did, he'd found out. They didn't leave the kid to get their ass kicked in the street. At least decent parents didn't, and as much as he liked to mock Ressler for it, he was pretty sure a decent man was likely raised by at least one decent parent if not both, no matter what had happened since.

"So, since you are so confident you can fool my mother, I'll just let you take the lead once we are inside.. See how good you. Mary's better, though."

"Mary, okay," Jacob murmured, filing it away. "Mary and Mikey. That's cute. It sounds like a sitcom."

"I hate you," Ressler said under his breath.

"And here I thought we were best friends." The dark haired man chuckled and pulled the car up to the curb as the GPS chimed that they had arrived at their destination. Ressler got out without another word and Jacob leaned over the console. "So are we staying here or a-" The passenger door slammed hard and he waited a beat before nodding. "Alright then," he grumbled to himself and slipped out of his own door, shoving the keys in his pocket as he circled around the vehicle. "So what are you planning to tell them about why you're here, because even though it's you, I somehow get the feeling you're not going for the whole truth."

"My mom doesn't need to know the truth." He stared at the house. "I need to talk to Mikey and then we are out. There are few boxes of my dad's things I've been...holding off...on getting. I'm here for those as we pass through town. It won't fool her but she shouldn't push if I bring dad into it."

"Being less than honest with your own mother. I can officially say that I haven't gone that far," Jacob said with a grin as they made their way up the sidewalk to the front door.

Ressler shot him a dirty look then as if he were afraid the door would burn him, he knocked. "Here goes nothing," he said so quietly Jacob almost missed it. Voices and a dog bark could be heard on the other side then the door swung open to reveal a who Jacob could only assume was Ressler's mother. It took a moment for it to register, but the tall brunette, the ginger must be from his dad, broke into a wide smile. "Hey, Ma," Ressler offered.

"Hey, Ma? It's been 5 years since I've seen that face of yours and all you have to say is 'Hey, Ma"? Mikey! Donnie's home!" Mary threw over shoulder before wrapping her son in a massive hug. "I don't care why you are here. I've missed you, baby." She pulled back and noticed Jacob. "And who is your friend?"

It took all of Jacob's considerable skill not to burst out laughing at the display. Oh, he wouldn't let it go easily, but there was a time and a place. He would just hold onto it a bit until Ressler thought that he was clear of it. So he swallowed the snarky response that was dancing on his tongue and put on the smile he had used when meeting kids' parents for parent-teacher conferences and extended a hand. "Tom Keen."

"Keen." Mary looked from Jacob to her son. "Isn't that the last name of your partner?" She turned to Jacob and smiled. "My son doesn't find it necessary to speak to his dear old mom so I only have the news to go by."

"And the guilt trips begin," Ressler grumbled.

"Why don't you boys come on in. Mikey is probably trying to catch Muffins. She's a speedy little thing." She turned and walked in to the house. "You know I've always wanted a lap dog, but Donnie here…," she trailed off. "That mutt you had would have eaten any little dog I brought home."

Even Jacob couldn't help the laugh that escaped him at the thought of Donald Ressler with a lap dog. It was too much. "I always pictured you a German Shepherd kind of guy," he managed, his gaze flickering back over to Mary who had turned briefly, and then to the room. There were pictures everywhere, most filled with his wife's partner at various ages. So he'd been right. Ressler was an only child. That or his brother or sister was the black sheep of the family that was not acknowledged in photos.

Mary turned back and he offered her a bright smile, hands dancing as he spoke in an easy manner. "Your son was nice enough to take care of Hudson - Liz's and my dog - when we were out of town, and barely gave him back. He's not a lap dog, but not huge either, so maybe he's opening up," Jacob chuckled, opting for the more diplomatic way of describing Liz's absents than saying she'd been on the run. Mary had said that she caught pieces of information about her son through the news, but he wasn't sure if that had simply been a jab or if she had kept up with everything that had happened in the last year or so.

"Donnie's dog was a German Shepard mix. He failed K-9 training so David brought him home. We tried a poodle before that. Do you remember Fluffy?"

"The fur ball that bit me? How could I forget?" Ressler looked around. "Mikey leave the house because I'm here? He can't still be chasing a dog."

"He thinks it's always about him, Tom," Mary laughed. "No. Mikey has missed you as well. He was very proud of your hard work. Guys at the club told him you were a cold bastard for chasing your partner. Mikey though, he said you were protecting her because there is no way David Ressler's son would do anything but the right thing." She yelled for Mikey one more time before turning to Jacob. "How is she settling in to life after all that? I can't imagine what that poor thing went through."

"It's been rough, but it's helped that her team supported her like they did," Jacob answered and didn't risk a look back at Ressler. It wasn't like the two of them had discussions about it, or even talked about it at all, but he wasn't an idiot. Naive as Ressler had been in places, he'd been willing to give everything to keep Liz safe in the end and that meant more to Jacob than he dared admit out loud. He spotted a picture set in clear view on the table and motioned to it. "Quantico graduation?"

Before the other man could answer their attention was drawn by the sound of the door and a man grumbling from out of their line of view. "Something this small shouldn't be able to run that fast."

Ressler visibly tensed and stood up straight. A man in his later sixties walked in. He immediately gave off that 'I don't take anyone shit's' attitude. He locked eyes with Ressler and the two men stood still for a moment. Mary was the one to cut the silence.

"Oh, consider it your exercise, hun." Mary obviously was trying to lighten the mood.

"Don," Mikey said as he nodded.

"Mike," Ressler replied. "We were in town. And I realized I still hadn't picked up some those boxes you two had for me. So, I'd like to get them and we'll be gone."

"Mike Finnegan," he said turning his attention to Jacob. "You are?"

"Tom Keen," Jacob answered, suddenly feeling very much like he was a teenager again being interrogated by a cop. If this was what Ressler had grown up with, no wonder he'd turned out the way he had. There hadn't been any hope for him.

"Keen?" Mike Finnegan echoed gruffly, quirking an eyebrow. "You related to his partner?"

Jacob offered him a smile. "Yes. I met Don through Liz. Pleasure to meet you." He was expecting the look from Ressler, but there was something strange about the way that Mary was looking at him, though he wasn't entirely sure why.

"Mikey, why don't you take Donnie upstairs and show him where the boxes are," she said softly. "Tom, would you mind helping me in the kitchen? It's not every day my son is home. I'm going to make you boys dinner and I'm not taking no for answer." Mary put her hand on Jacob's back and led him through the living room towards the kitchen without waiting for an answer. She looked up to Jacob and smiled. "Please tell me you know your way around the kitchen? Mikey, he's no help ever."

"I do, actually," he answered, shoving down the feeling that something was wrong. He was being paranoid. The sweet woman was just excited to see her son and he'd been so focused in staying out of the field for the last few months that his senses were going into overload now that he was anywhere near it. He was just overreacting. Everything was fine.

TBC

Notes: I don't do a great deal of co-writing, but I'm so glad that SaraBeth1 agreed to work on this project with me. We just wrapped up the writing for it and it'll be several chapters long, so sit back and enjoy the Tessler snark and adventure :)

Next time - Mikey and Ressler have a chat, Tom finds out there's more to Mary than he suspected, and the boys prove they can find trouble anywhere.