In the Stillness

Chapter 11

"Are you sure you're going to be alright? I mean, it's perfectly fine if you stay here tonight."

"No, I couldn't bother you again. Plus, Red is insisting that I stay with him until I figure out what to do."

Ressler didn't know how else he could convince Liz to stay with him that night, which in full honesty, he preferred it more for his reassurance. They had barely settled in his living room when Reddington in his full devil's timing called Liz, having some surprising, if not a bit suspicious, knowledge of what had happened between her and Tom. Willingly, Liz divulged mere skeletal details to Red, but he insisted that she allow him to provide temporary lodgings for her, until she can decide what concrete steps to take.

Ressler had to agree with Reddington that Liz should not go back to the home she shared with Tom, but it had bothered him nonetheless that she will be under that older man's care. Ressler had no doubt that Liz would be safe, that was not the issue. It was just that…he'd like to be the one to take care of her.

"So, you are staying at his house? With him?"

"No, not at his house. He said he has a room at the Ritz Carlton. It sounds bit too much, but he's insisting."

"Ah, of course, the Ritz Carlton. I wouldn't have expected anything less." Ressler didn't mean to concede a tinge of envy, but had to admit that the typical Reddington fashion would always outshine his own humble personage. That, and coupled with Reddington's finely honed skill of persuasion, who can say no to that guy?

"It's only for a week, I'd refuse that kind of lifestyle under normal circumstances. I think the first thing I should do is find a place to live, perhaps a small apartment."

"That's a good idea." Ressler was relieved to hear that Liz wasn't the type to be bought into, in his opinion, Reddington's garish living of abundance and extravagance. He couldn't help but to let out a small smile of quiet satisfaction.

A quick knock was heard on Ressler's front door, and Liz gathered her bag, "Oh, that must be him."

Ressler got up from the couch and opened the door, finding Reddington under the dim porch light, "Hello, Donald. Sorry to drop in so late, I believe you're entertaining my guest."

Ressler didn't say a word, but reluctantly held the door wider for Liz to walk out. Reddington must've sensed his grim hesitation, "Why so glum, Donald? You're not worried about Lizzie, are you? Well, don't trouble yourself, she's in excellent hands. But you already knew that."

"Red, I'll meet you at the car." Liz faced Reddington as she stood in front of Ressler, and waited until the older man relinquished and made his way toward the car. Now safely out of earshot, Liz turned to Ressler with a faint smile, "Don…thank you…I hope I didn't bother you too much. I'm sorry if you feel roped into my personal life, whether you wanted to or not."

Ressler winced at her words and stepped closer to her, not breaking his soft gaze into hers, "Liz, I'm glad you came to me tonight, that…means a lot to me. And you don't ever have to apologize to me. I'm there for you, always, whenever you need me."

In the dimness of the lone porch light, Ressler could make out the soft contours of her faint smile, "Thank you, and I suppose after I gave you such a beating about staying out of my life…"

"Liz, I want you to know that you can trust me, and I…care about you. And not just as a partner, but…" Ressler then caught his eyes wandering toward her lips, and instantly flickered toward his feet, feeling hot rush on his cheeks in bungling embarrassment. He hoped that the darkness of the night had mercifully granted him a favor and had masked Liz's eyes from making that mortifying observation. What was wrong with him? Never mind that such a gesture was just so inappropriate, it was absolutely unprofessional in their realm of work relationship, and he was certain that such behavior would be completely unacceptable to Liz. Especially at this vulnerable state of her marriage, the last thing he should be thinking about was…kissing her. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Are you coming to work tomorrow?" Ressler gathered up the courage and looked into Liz's face again, and to his relief, she didn't appear to have noticed anything out of the ordinary.

"Yes, I am. There is so much to do with the Mather case, and I will not let my personal life distract me from this job."

"Well, I guess I'll see you at work. Liz…please call me if you need anything. I'd have preferred if you stayed here tonight, and it's not too late for you to change your mind." Ressler had to try for one last time. He wasn't ready to let her go yet.

"I know…but I'll be fine." Liz then lifted her hand to his chest and laid it there gently, in an effort to reassure and pacify his worrisome heart. She may have been aware that this touch was wholly uncharacteristic of her, but she ignored it and allowed her hand there for longer than expected, which surprised him most of all. The touch of her hand felt warm and heart breaking at the same time, and he couldn't deny that her touch awakened a stirring that he wasn't ready for. Not yet, anyway.

"Well, I better go. I'll see you tomorrow, Don." And with that, Liz walked into the darkness toward the shadow of a man standing by the car. As Ressler watched her walk away, he unwittingly placed his hand where her touch had been, to preserve that warmth and somehow envisioning his hand covering her hand. He felt the distant beating of his heart where her hand had been, and wondered if she was able to detect its wild quickening under her touch. How did he come to this? How did he come to crave her touch? But that wasn't it. Standing in the cold darkness as he watched her disappearing figure, Ressler fearfully allowed his heart to admit to existence what he'd been resolutely refusing. And even beyond his control, he gasped at the acknowledgement. How did he come to want her kiss whenever he was with her?

. . . . . . .

Ressler nervously tugged at his sleeve to peek at his watch again. It was 8:09 A.M. He scanned the black site floor from the window of his office, still no sight of Liz. She was late, and she was never late to work. He looked at his cell phone, contemplating whether to give her a call for being nine minutes late. Would that be considered a bit too controlling? How about paranoid?

"Good morning, Agent Ressler." A familiar voice was heard from behind, and Ressler swung around quickly to find Liz walking in with an easy grin. He exhaled in relief and scanned her face for any sign of trouble; he didn't detect any. "Hey, Keen."

He waited until she took off her overcoat and settled her belongings in the desk drawer. She was aware that he was watching her, and perhaps waiting for the right moment to inquire about her well being. Ressler was standing awkwardly by the door, and it was Liz who walked toward him, to relieve him of pretending that he was not worried about her. "Are you curious about how my night was?"

"Umm… sure…curious how ritzy is Ritz Carlton."

Liz let out a small chuckle, and Ressler rather liked the sight and the sound of it. "It is as ritzy as you think. I was very comfortable, I slept like a baby."

"Good…did Red stay with you?" Ressler felt like he was prying, as if he was checking up on the old man's antics, but he couldn't help it. Red better not have any funny business up his sleeve.

"For a little bit, just to plan out what to do. He thinks I should speak to a lawyer, about the divorce."

"That's a good idea." Ressler sighed in relief, as he knew Red wouldn't talk her out of the divorce, but the bastard did one thing right in suggesting that she speak to a lawyer. The end of her marriage, and the conclusion of all the messiness of it couldn't come any quicker to him.

"Oh, and sorry I'm late this morning. I dropped by my house to pick up some things."

The perpetual furrowed brows instantly surfaced on Ressler's forehead, with a slight squint of the eyes that foretold of wary suspicion. "Was Tom there?"

"No, he wasn't. And stop your worrying, I could handle him." Liz closed the small distance between them, and lightly patted his chest in a reassuring gesture, but even that slight touch unnerved and befuddled him. He felt like a smitten school boy, wanting to take the girl's hand and never let go.

"By the way, do you want to…come over tonight after work? Just in case you're curious about my ritzy abode. Red set me up with unlimited wine tab, and I could use a friend to drink with."

"Yeah, sure. I'm willing to run that tab for the old man." The invitation was completely unexpected, and Ressler had to gather up a great amount of effort and will to mask the surprising bliss that welled up in his heart. As she smiled in his way, he caught his breath quicken and the depth of his insides knotting, and he was sure he was blushing like a fool invited to a party. What was happening to him? He quickly and awkwardly cleared his throat to compose himself, and pursed his lips to prove his neutrality, but he was sure it looked like a maniacal frown instead.

"Well, it's time to work." And she turned and walked out of the office, leaving a fresh tint of lavender lingering in the still air. Ressler watched her walk to Agent Malik by the crime board, and kept his furtive glance on her for a little bit longer. Liz had called him a friend, and yes, that was who he was. And everything made sense to him now. Ressler was not a man of ambiguity, one who is comfortable operating in the lines drawn haphazardly, with no clear ends to the mean. He needs boundaries, of relationships defined by black and white, and none of that murky grey that only makes him feel like drowning in loss of control.

And it dawned on him that what's been bothering him about his "relationship" with Liz, was that it was not clearly defined. He didn't know how he felt about her, but at the same time, he knew exactly how he felt about her. She was his work partner, but at the same time, he had to admit that she had become something more. And he was weary of the constant burden, of the push and pull between his heart that was deeply devoted to her, and the mind that sharply reminded him of its impropriety. But he can now draw that line, and settle in his mind once and for all, and give relief to his tormented heart. He was simply her friend, and friendship was their boundary. And given this sole purpose, this clear direction, Ressler could be very good at the job, so to speak. Yes, what they had was friendship, and all of his affections and devotions of the heart were for the benefit of their friendship.

. . . . . .

"Well, this is how the other half lives."

Ressler was expecting ritzy, but clearly what he saw was beyond the scope of his simplistic and modest imagination. He was struck with the rich opulence, of its grandeur size and abundance, that he felt timid and absolutely out of place in Liz's hotel room. "When Reddington said you're in excellent hands, he wasn't kidding."

"Well, I feel completely out of place, like this isn't real, or it's just too much. I'd have been happy at a little cozy motel." Liz chuckled as she opened a small hidden bar underneath the fireplace. "What would you like? We have bourbon, whiskey, vodka, white wine, red wine, absinthe…"

"Absinthe? That's an odd inclusion, maybe some rich old men drink that stuff. I'll stick with whiskey."

"Whiskey, it is." Liz produced two small glasses from the shelf and carried them to the couch, along with the small bottle of whiskey. She settled on the couch next to Ressler, and poured him a glass of the clear liquid, which he readily received with weary gladness.

"This is exactly what I needed after a long day of work." He took a small sip of the drink, then sank deeper into the plush couch, "I could get used to this."

"Hey, this is only temporary, so don't even think about it." Liz threw him a warning glare, "Red is going to help me find an apartment tomorrow."

"Oh, is he?" Ressler liked that this process was happening quickly, and appreciated that Red was also on board with it, although he won't show such gratitude to the man.

"And I've made an appointment with the lawyer for next week."

"Next week, huh?" Ressler knew he may regret it, but he had to say it, "Liz, I feel as though everything is happening real fast. Are you sure…this is what you want?" Damn, what the hell was he doing? Why did the voice of reason sound like he was on the bastard Tom Keen's side?

"Tom…was my only family, and I'm…so scared of being alone. But I can't let that fear stop me from doing this. Yes, I'm sure this is what I want."

"If there's even a shred of doubt, then you shouldn't go through with it. If in any way, you feel as though you want to save your marriage…"

"Don…I'm sure this is what I want. I know in my heart, and I'm ready."

The two sat in silence on the rich velvet couch, each holding their glasses of whiskey in separate contemplation. Ressler couldn't deny the relief that coursed through his heart when Liz confirmed of her decisions, but it nonetheless pained him to see her struggle with the fear of loneliness. He knew how that felt like all too well, as he himself had come to accept his lone existence and no longer resisted it, to the point where his job was all he had. He couldn't bear to think that such a life was what awaited her.

"Would you like company…I mean, would you like me to go with you…to see the lawyer? Well, if Red is not accompanying you already…" Ressler was certain that's what a friend would do.

"No, Red is not…I haven't told him about it. Don, I would like for you to go with me, I would like that very much. Thank you." Liz turned to him with a look of timid surprise, and allowed a meek smile to escape. Ressler wished to gaze upon her smiles for all the days to come in that space between.

"And, Liz, you're…not alone. So, you don't have to be…scared."

Just when Liz's lips parted to respond, a small knock was heard on the door. Liz looked at the wall clock to check the time, "Maybe that's Red, although it is late, even for his standards."

Liz got up from the couch and walked toward the door, while Ressler got up as well and stood behind her, out of both caution and habit. His eyes were steadfast on the door as Liz opened it, and produced an unexpected figure in a brown coat.

"Tom…"

"Hi, Lizzie." Tom Keen stood behind the door with a cautious smile, as Ressler was immediately thrown into alarm as to how he knew of her whereabouts. He instinctively felt for his gun slung across his shoulder.

"How did you know I was here? I mean, how…" It was apparent that Liz was in shock as well, and Ressler could guess that she was just as troubled and suspicious.

"Lizzie, I just wanted to talk. I just can't…" Tom's words veered off as he soon as he detected a protective figure standing behind Liz. "Agent Ressler…"

Ressler produced no words, but nodded in acknowledgement of him. He did not like this situation at all, and Tom hadn't yet given an answer as to how he knew of this hotel room.

"Well, Lizzie, I didn't expect you to have company at this late hour. Had I known, perhaps I would've been more accommodating."

"What do you want, Tom?"

Ressler could already detect that Tom's demeanor had shifted, and his face now wore an unrecognizable temperance, which alarmed him that much more. Ressler couldn't help but to take a step closer to Liz, and it didn't go unnoticed by Tom.

"You know, Agent Ressler, I've always thought you had a thing for my wife." He sneered behind a faint smirk, "I mean, talk about going against every professional code of ethics. Forgive me, I'm not too versed with the FBI rules of conduct. Is there some type of disciplinary actions for such grossly inappropriate professional relations?"

"Tom, that's enough." Liz spoke under her breath as she stepped in front of Tom, but he kept his eyes on Ressler.

"I mean, clearly you're in love with her."

. . . . . .

A/N: First of all, I just want to thank all the reviews and support! Honestly, some of your reviews make my writing sound way better than it is, and I'm really flattered. It is great knowing that some of you readers are understanding what I'm trying to convey. Thank you!

And…Madeline Pratt…what a great episode! So glad Blacklist is back, how I've missed thee. And although Liz/Ressler scenes were few and short, I thought they were GREAT Keensler moments! Loved the elevator scene, it was a bit of a foreshadowing, in my opinion. When Ressler asked Liz if she wanted him to "rough up" Tom, even my boyfriend (who notices NOTHING) turned to me and said he'll probably beat up Tom later in the future, and get together with Liz. LOL! And LOVED how Ressler stayed with Liz at the office (that lame Audrey can wait!). Hey, they were small morsels that the writers threw at us, but to me, they were pretty significant Keensler developments. Even a major e-magazine spoilers talked about possible love triangle btw Liz/Tom/Ressler (and now it may be a square, with that minx Jolene). I think it was E-Online…check it out under TV section!

But…sorry to all the Lizzington shippers…the Red/Liz dance was such a snoooooze. I seriously don't see what these shippers see…there's absolutely nothing sexual or even romantic about how Red treats her. But I thought Red and Madeline were totally HOT! Redeline , anyone?