Chapter 1.

"Why do you have to be here?"

Elizabeth Keen stared at the wall of not so large office of one of the secret FBI field offices in the world. Some evidences of appreciation for the work of Special Agent Donald Ressler were hung there, staring back at her. She sighed. The unexplained tenderness from somewhere inside her chest has returned.

How many years have elapsed since their last meeting? It's been only almost four years. But why does it feel so much longer than that?

She observed there was no picture of him on the table or the wall. His working table was clean and tidy. There were some schedules, some different maps with target poins and many pictures of unknown people on the wall behind his chair. His own personal request for transfer to an unknown FBI field office four years ago, she had known from Reddington that now he worked on uncovering corruption in the system, especially to catch highly unreached officials or important persons who were actually not as good as their public image.

Her trance of thoughts were cut by the voice outside his moderate size of office. His laugh when someone teased him about some words she didn't really catch. His laugh and some words he said back in a proudly tone she also didn't hear clearly. Some quick steps approached could be heard and she felt her heart pounding even more than before. Her chest felt hurt in the process.

"Hi, Ressler, someone waiting for you in your office." She heard someone yelled outside.

Silence.

She waited nervously. She could not stand anymore to just sitting there, stood abruptly reaching for the door to present herself and ended her erratic heart rate. But when her hand had been already on handle, the door sprang opened to her direction faster than she had expected, made her stood face to face with him, close but not closer enough, eye level.

Silence again.

Blond, gelled hair, blue eyes. Surprised – or shock...?

"Ressler..." She finally managed to say, but hated her own uncertain voice.

"Keen." She heard his voice, cool, controlled.

Her other words were held on the tip of her tongue because he tore his eyes from hers, turned around to close the door slowly, darkened the window and walked to the chair behind the table. Every manner of him felt so controlled to her.

He looked thinner, shethought.

He sat down then, looking at her with this unreadable emotion on his face. She found herself automatically sitting down again without being asked.

"Hi, it's good to see you." She said quickly just to ease the tension she felt inside the room.

"What do you want?" He asked with his unreadable eyes. His tone was calm, she couldn't feel any emotion in it.

Suddenly a nauseated wave attacking her from inside. She forgot what response she had expected from him, but she remembered not like this one.

"To see you." She tried to say as calmly as she could, without being choked.

He smiled a little after stunned for a moment. A smile which didn't reach his eyes at all. She didn't think it's possible that a smile she had so much missed could also hurt her at the same time.

"For what?" He asked again.

"Ressler –" She tried to put it mildly, friendly way.

"My guess –" He cut her, " –Reddington told you where to find me. I believe it's for a reason. So, let's not wasting each other time, shall we. Why are you here, Keen?"

Anger filling her chest, threatened to explode. She stood up then.

"Well, you're completely wrong, Agent Ressler. Reddington doesn't know I'm here. I thought four years ago you said you wanted to start a better life. Never in my life have I imagined that a life here has changed you to become someone worse than I used to know. If you think this is not worth your time then fine, I'll leave!" She headed for the door but stopped immediately because he blocked her way.

"I thought four years ago we're clear enough!" his voice raised, matching hers. His eyes were on fire, angry. She could see the tension framed his body.

She glared back at him challengingly.

"If your memory's still intact, you'll remember I didn't promise anything."

"I'm not a physicist, let alone a profiler. All I remember – you say nothing! To me, it's clear enough!"

"You can't control me, Ressler!" She pushed him just to have more space in between, to breath and also to reach the door – which should have been closer by now. But she's shocked because he caught her wrist and his hand clamped around it tightly.

"Neither – can – you, Keen." His tone sounded dangerously sharp to her –like he meant every word in it.

Liz felt suddenly hard to breath again because his face was so close. She could feel his breath. His presence. It's hard to explain, but it's so Ressler's that it brought back her memory about things she had planned to say or do when she met him at the first place. But she couldn't bring her body into action despite the hurt she felt for fighting against herself because at the same moment she could see the fight through his heavy blue eyes.

As sudden as he grabbed her hand, he let it go and stepped back, not quite meeting her eyes when he repeated every word, "Neither can you." It sounded he said it to himself instead of to her.

Liz felt the pain around her hand, but it's nothing compared to the confusion Ressler had just created for her because he just looked away and walked pass her, went back to his chair and gave her so much space to go ahead. She felt a great loss.

"You're free to leave." His voice back to cold and controlled again.

Liz hated this. Then with a strong determination –she herself wondered where it came from, she approached his table again and boldly wrote something down on one of his sticky notes.

"My address only for three days. I come here as a friend – to talk. If you don't want, it's fine. I don't need a fake friendship. Monday morning I'll go back to DC. So, if you don't show up, today will be our last meeting. I won't disturb your precious time ever again."

She left him. She didn't notice how he had responded to her action because she couldn't resist the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes. She didn't hear if he's said something or called her back. When she opened the door, she found some pair of eyes glued to her then looked away. She didn't care whether they heard all of it. She just practically run away. Fast.