AN: 2x12.

Liz could see how tight Ressler's jaw was from the passenger seat. He was shaking his head, lost in thought, left hand sitting loosely on the wheel, right hand fidgeting with the consul.

"What?" she asked.

They were on their way to the Kenyon compound, a group of religious fanatics - a cult she supposed - that promoted polygamy, mysoginstic views, child abuse and numerous other atrocities, one of which was hiding entire containers for criminals underground in their forested compounds. And which they now had a warrant to search.

"I just - I hate things like this so much" Ressler admitted.

"Things like what?"

"These cults who spin religion and try to justify their actions using the Bible." He shook his head. "Let me tell you something - I was raised Catholic, on the same Bible that they use, and I know it well. In no way does it justify the things they claim it does."

"I know" agreed Liz. "I mean I don't know it the way you do but I know enough to that what you said is true."

He nodded and glanced at her. "I may not be a practicing Catholic anymore Liz, but I still consider myself a Christian and I still believe in God. And seeing - organizations like this - because it is an organization - a criminal one - well I can see why religion gets a bad rep and - that's, that's not true Liz. But it's all the world sees."

"Yah, well" said Liz shrugging. "I mean there's religion and then there's religion."

She used her hands to show two seperate entities. "And you're part of the first one and the Kenyon's are part of the second one. I mean - it's not like your God asks you to do things like that right?"

"No" said Ressler indignantly. "No God does. Not a real one."

"Exactly" said Liz. "Even if you're not a practicing member, you could be. I mean what have you not done that you have to? Or done that you shouldn't?"

Ressler raised his brows.

"Well I'm pretty sure I was supposed to go to my wedding night a virgin - and we both know that's not going to happen." The sentence sounded outlandish coming from him - a heterosexual man in his 30's - with a beautiful face and an amazing body. The 18th century language didn't help.

"Seriously?" asked Liz. "No sex before marriage?"

"I think it's become one of those things where it depends who you ask" he admitted, "but yah. Generally speaking."

"Wow" Liz was processing. "But you - you don't...?" she trailed off.

"Agree?" asked Ressler. "No. I think there's a huge line between sex and adultery that the church fails to see."

"Oh, phew" said Liz, relaxing. "At least I haven't - defiled - you."

He burst out laughing. "No" he said, "you haven't."

"Okay" she agreed. "I mean God I can reason - somewhat. Or at least I don't disagree. But no sex? That's plain unnatural and I can't see that that's what would be asked of people."

"No, I know" said Ressler, nodding. "Besides it wouldn't have been you anyways. You didn't take my virginity. That would have been Tianna. We were 17. Back of her Mom's station wagon. I probably lasted 30 seconds."

"Sounds like a good time" said Liz, laughing at him. She could picture it in her mind. "Was probably a great 30 seconds."

"I thought so" he admitted, "short-lived but amazing, though I'm sure she'd disagree with me. Second time around was better, and I like to think it's been uphill since."

"Oh, I think it has" said Liz sincerely. "And remember, I speak from experience. I believe on occasions you can last up to nearly 30 minutes now."

Ressler blushed, but didn't reply. Instead he asked her, "what about you?"

"His name was Leo" said Liz. "I was 16, he was 17, and looking back I doubt he was the virgin he claimed to be. Box of his truck - he might have made 45 seconds."

"Oh" said Ressler, nodding along and laughing at her now. "Well, if he wasn't a virgin and still only made 45 seconds that makes me feel better. Because I was a virgin in a time before the graphically educational TV of today, with no Dad, a brother who had lost his virginity a decade before, and I was 16 so I was far too cool to ask my guy friends at school. I'm just surprised I got it right at all."

They both howled in laughter and then it went quiet for a minute.

"I like this" said Liz then. "We're headed to something that - well that might change us forever, but we still found a way to laugh. To be human. We need that in this job - need ways to cope."

"Oh for sure" agreed Ressler. "Otherwise this job would destroy us."

They had reached their destination if they were to remain undetected. They'd go in on foot from here. Ressler pulled off the road and put the vehicle in park, shutting it off.

He hopped out and headed to the others already gathering, Liz hurrying after him and stopping him by grabbing his arm.

He turned to look at her confused.

"Vest" she said and began leading him back to their suburban. "I have no desire to see you die."

"No?" he asked. "Okay." He diligently pulled the heavy vest over his head, letting it fall on his shoulders and pulling the thick velcro straps tightly around the curve of his ribs. "Happy now?" he asked her, smiling.

"Happier" she agreed.

They'd been told that is was a certain thing to be met with armed resistant, but Liz ran light footed behind Ressler through wet spring grass and saw no signs of it. Her partner had a long stride and speed came naturally to him, he carried his weight with an agility that she envied. She remembered running like that as a child. She'd outgrown it, like most adults, but sometimes a lucky few held onto it and he seemed to be one of them. He knelt by a row of bushes, falling to one knee, the other bent by his ear and waited for her and several others to catch him up.

She knelt behind him, not speaking for fear of being overheard. He looked back at her, the chilly air cutting and making his nose run, but met her gaze and nodded before leaping gracefully up and away like a deer. She caught his eyes next at the doors of the church and at another nod they were opened, making the reason for their lack of resistance clear.

Dead. They were dead. All of them. Men and women. Children were nowhere in sight. She stepped over a body and stopped horrified at Ressler's back, the three golden letters of their bureau stretched across his broad shoulders the only sight for a second before she stepped back out and was re-greeted with the harsh reality that sometime in the not so distant past all these people had met their end at the hands of someone who clearly had bullets. Ressler swallowed audibly, she heard it without seeing, and she glanced to see his eyes rest on the body of a highly pregnant woman for longer then the rest and take in the stretch of the fabric across her belly. Not one iota of movement from the nearly-term occupant inside.

Then his eyes flashed back to hers and she seen the grief in them. Anger at the injustice.

They didn't have time to pause though. Not right now.

Liz was on the phone with Reddington, filling him in on details about the number dead and the missing vehicle they couldn't find, likely a bomb.

Ressler was tripping through storage rooms in the dark, led by the beam of his flashlight, several men behind him. They were in the last major one on the grounds. A vanity loomed ahead of him, door open. A bottle of pills with the word Codeine on it. Narcotic. Oh, how he wanted opioids in that second. The power of the rush of - nothing - when they kicked in and swept him away from the messed up world he lived in. A month ago, in the same scenario, he would have reached out and grabbed it, that wasn't even a question. But not he didn't. And there was one reason for that - Liz.

He couldn't explain that to her, didn't even want to try. The matter decided in his mind he pulled his eyes away and turned his back, headed back out. This one was clear too.

At least he thought so - initially. He was almost out when he heard a noise behind him. Prepared for the worst he whirled on his heel and turned towards the sound, a tiny closet in the back, maybe only a foot wide. He pulled open the door, wondering how a grown man would fit in there and found instead a little girl. Or well - a glance told him she hadn't hit puberty yet anyway.

His heart fell. She was dressed simply in a home spun dress, but it was dirty, as was her hair, her face and her hands. Her expression told him that she was clearly as scared of him as he was of her.

Instinct made him reach out a hand to her and made her place her own in it. He drew her out and she came to the comfort of his warm body, his embrace tight and welcoming. He didn't know the girl, didn't even know her name, but his grief for her lot in life was enough to make him personally invested. Sighing he led her, as yet the only survivor, out of the shed.

They were on the phone with Cooper as Ressler kept a watchful eye on the little girl he'd rescued, currently in the back seat of one of their vehicles. A little boy had been found from the same religious sect, driving a truck bomb on a highway. At 10 years old.

"They're indoctrinated from the time they're born" said Samar, "force-fed by rod and rote. In this case, the doctrine according to Justin Kenyon."

Aram relayed the horrifying news that contrary to what they had believed at first sight, not a single one of their 53 victims had been shot - they had all been stabbed or bludgeoned over the head.

They had to get the little girl that Ressler had found off the mountain, but it was an argument over matter of jurisdiction. Deciding to settle the legalities later, Liz and Ressler piled in the vehicle with the agent who was running the show and the little girl.

She couldn't stop looking out the window and when Liz questioned her she said that she was looking at watchers and it was a secret. Ressler caught her words from his seat directly ahead of her and his gaze out the window sharpened but they all missed the lone figure running through the trees.

When their tire was shot out they did the math pretty quickly, but by that time it was too late and they'd been going too fast. The agent lost control and they swerved off the road and into a stand of trees, one particularly sturdy specimen breaking the windshield and missing Ressler's chest by so little that it actually shoved him sideways and pinned him to the door by piercing through the seat. He had nearly become a giant shish kabob. His hip was crushed against the handle of the door and the branch against his chest, making it hard for him to expand his ribcage and fill his lungs.

"Ressler, you okay?" asked Liz from the backseat, concern and confusion in her voice. They were all trying to figure out exactly what happened.

"I don't think anything's broken" he replied, taking inventory. He could still move all his limbs and while the crushing weight on his chest had him second-guessing himself he knew it was the pressure of the tree. He hadn't actually broken any bones. "I'm stuck" he said through gritted teeth, wedging his shoulder over the branch and trying to lift his body above it and out via the top. He couldn't. There was no budging that sucker. He would have to be cut out. And in the meantime, well he was in for some pain. And various cuts and severe bruises on his pale skin. "I can't budge this thing" he admitted, pressing against it with all the strength he could muster. It was not a feeling he relished. He'd been in spaces like this a few times and he hated the feeling of not being strong enough to free his own body. He could lift his entire body weight above his head, could pull himself up a stone wall higher then his chest by using the reverse chin up method. But this stupid tree had him truly pinned.

"Radio's shot" said Liz, taking inventory. She couldn't help any of them without getting help. "Anybody got cell reception?" she asked.

"Mines busted" said Ressler. It had been in the inside pocket of his jacket and he could feel that it was crushed by the weight of the tree, right through the center, the ends curving around the trunk. He was just glad it was the titanium frame that had broken and not the round sprig of his ribs. He was losing energy and knew he ought to conserve it to help with the pain so he let himself fall back down in his seat, no longer pushing against the tree trunk.

Liz and the agent hopped out, leaving him with the girl, who's name he still didn't know. She proceeded to tell him that her Daddy said he was going to go to hell and burn in a lake of fire, to which he has no come back, because honestly? Who truly knew?

He took stock of himself again. Everything still moved, including the arm in the other side of the trunk. He hadn't fit in this vehicle to begin with, his knees were pressed against the dash. A different tree was blocking his door. His only way out would be through the windshield over top of the branch and he had no way of doing that himself.

His cheek stung. He was pretty sure he'd sat on something sharp and scraped his butt.

Then leaves crackled outside. Things went fast from there. A gunshot. He called for the agent but she didn't answer. The girl told him it was the watchers which confused him. He put a hand on the roof to lift himself out of the seat so he could see better. A hand closed on his wrist and then there were hands everywhere. He yelled at the girl to get down, pressing her head to the floor of the backseat with a false 'sweetheart'. Then he was being pulled out through the windshield that someone had pealed back.

How he remembered to hit the dial for the volume on the radio with his foot he didn't know. He just hoped Liz would hear and come to investigate.

A black bag settled over his face and he lost track of the girl. Then everything went black.

He came to in a closet somewhere, his wrists tied in his lap.

He could hear voices on the other side of the door - Liz's voice.

Shit, that means she's caught too, he thought rationally but he didn't fight the sigh of relief that left him either.

He heard her ask to speak to the leader, demand to know what he had done with the man. Ressler. She called him by name. Footsteps came in his direction and the door opened. He was lifted to his feet and drug into the circle of firelight then shoved and tripped, tossed roughly to the ground at Liz's feet. He rolled into it with a grunt and landed with his eyes at the perfect level to see that her own hands were bound, but behind her back. Their eyes met for the breifest of seconds but she used it to ask him a question. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

Yes, he was okay. Yes, he'd do it.

He pretended that the fall had hurt a lot more then it had and wiggled about, then managed to lift his hands to hers. His fingers were dirty, he noticed in the light, but somehow he didn't think she cared. He hooked his finger under her rope which she had loosened by this time and yanked hard and fast, straight down. His strength was enough and her hands were freed. Rope burn snaked down her thumbs from his pull but she didn't even flinch. Rolling clumsily to his knees he stood and threw himself at there would be captureres. They caught his body in their arms, determined that he wouldn't escape, their attention averted just long enough for Liz to get the rifle. Flawless.

Then, quite unexpectedly but welcomed, was Samar and several teams of agents. They flooded the place and Liz stepped to Ressler, hastily untying the hands he held out to her. They arrested those who needed arresting, rounded up the poor children - the real victims in all this, and Liz talked one man out of blowing up a van of explosives.

She was exhausted by the time they got back to the Post Office but Reddington awaited her with some tantalizing distraction and elaborate story.

Ressler headed straight for the men's room and undoubtedly a shower and she wished she could do the same, but no, she was stuck talking to yet another criminal. She was short with him, telling him that their relationship was strictly professional and that's all it would ever be. She didn't know what he wanted from her, infact he was downright confusing, but she didn't much care at the moment.

She had a man. As much man as she could handle. Her partner, lover and confident.

Liz got out of the shower to see Ressler, hair wet and no tie, showing the remains of his phone to Aram and Samar.

"Look at that thing" said Samar, turning it in her hands. It was bent in a half circle, most of the screen missing. "I hope the glass was facing away from your body."

"Well it was on top of my vest so it really doesn't matter, besides I can't remember what way it was facing. No glass to pick out of myself though."

"Hey, Liz, come look!" shouted Aram, loud enough that he knew she was bound to hear him. She couldn't say no to that. So instead she walked over to the desk and took the object in question. It was thoroughly shattered yet somehow still holding its shape.

"I'll get a new one tomorrow" said Ressler.

"And in the meantime?"

"I'll live without one like every person all the time up until 50 years ago?"

"Oh I could never" said Aram, but Ressler shrugged it off like it was nothing.

Liz met him in their shared office a few minutes later, gathering papers together.

"What you doing tonight?" she asked, casually as she could.

He shrugged, settling his coat across his shoulders.

"Probably sit on the couch, watch a movie so I don't have to think about today" said Ressler.

"Well, in that case" said Liz indicatvely. "If it's distracting you need, have I got an idea. I have funner plans then sitting on the couch."

"Funner? Is that even a word?"

"Is now" challenged Liz. "You coming home with me or not?"

"Uhhh...hmmm" said Ressler as though he were really debating the options in his mind. "I suppose so."

He was just teasing her which she knew, so she walked over and put her arm through his, gripping it tightly.

"Yah, you're coming home with me" she decided. "Because I want you to."

"Your wish is my command" he said. "We driving together?"

"Yes" she said. "You go now. I'll meet you at your truck in five? That way it's not obvious?"

He nodded and glancing around to make sure that they couldn't be seen through the window at that angle by the few people still wrapping up in the Post Office he pulled her in and kissed her deeply, before breaking suddenly away and walking out of their office. Liz seen him wave goodnight to Aram and get nonchalantly on the elevator to ride to the parking garage.

She followed him a few minutes later and they drove in silence to her place. He followed her inside, closing the front door behind him before she came for him. She had him pressed against the wall in her front entrance, coat still on his shoulders, but kissing him furiously. Her hands were scrabbling at his belt, trying to drop his pants and have him in her hands. He was just trying his best to contain her.

But somehow, he wasn't sure how because she seemed much to much like a liquid at the moment, she succeeded in her mission and his pants pooled around his ankles above the shoes he was still wearing. Her own followed suit and then they were both naked from the waist to the ankles and Liz was turning in his arms like a fish, whispering words in his ear that he had never imagined would come out of her mouth. And in the end he was so fired up that meeting her demands was nothing to him and he had her right there against the wall, coat and shoes still in play.

It wasn't until afterwards when they stood, panting, his hips pinning them both to the wall, that Liz smiled up at him and said in a breathless voice, "take off your coat and stay a while."

He laughed because he knew as well as she did that she was the one responsible for the fact that it wasn't off yet. But he did remove his coat, in due time, and she poured them both a glass of wine. They sat on her couch, drinking it slowly, while Ressler massaged her shoulders as she lay in his lap and she played on her phone. He didn't have one, which made it substantially more difficult to use it, but he was alright, he didn't seem bored. And he could see her screen.

He was advising her on the next move to make in her game and she pointed out his error, but then realizing that she had the man she wanted in her house and was wasting time on her phone she shut it off and tossed it on the table, turning to him. She stole his glass of wine, mostly gone, and put it on the table as well. She took a drink of her own and sat up, swinging into his lap and moving her mouth to his. The wine was sweet and made the kiss all the more delectable.

Gripping her back Ressler slowly turned their bodies so they lay on the couch, her beneath him, his weight propped on his elbows, pelvis pinning them both to the cushions.

He rose above her on his hands, exposing the milky white skin of his chest, hugely discolored by a horrendous bruise across the left half of his rib cage and abdomen. Her fingers rose to touch it carefully, not prodding, just exploring.

"That showed up fast" she said. He'd been hurt this morning, now he was half bruise.

"I bruise easy" he said simply. "My hip had one too, from the car door. And there's another one on my shoulder from where I hit the ground. There was a rock. It was very pointy."

She grabbed his shoulder, he lowered it helpfully for her to see in the dim light. The bruise there was smaller, much smaller, and she didn't spend long on there.

She ran her hands gently down his sides, feeling how swollen his left was in comparison to his right. Skin was stretched taut over muscle which was stretched tight over the curved bone of ribs. Liz could feel his ribs, not see them, but feel them, all the way down his chest from his armpit to where they ended but she had to push deeper in the left side then the right, that was for sure. He didn't say anything but her touch brought him pain if she pushed so she didn't.

He had one other injury as well.

"Noticed this one earlier" she said, sliding her hand down his back and onto the sloped curve of his left buttock. He had a palpable scratch running the curve of it, not deep or anything, just a piece of a branch most likely.

"Oh yah" he said. "I think I picked that one up when they pulled me out of the car."

Liz nodded and kissed him, her hand tracing his scratch.

"Smart thinking by the way. With the radio I mean."

He only shrugged in response as she kept feeling his body, gazing up at the beautiful sight of him above her. His shoulders were wide, the expanse of them broad enough to block out most of her light, his chest was thick, round, and beefy, but the weight started to taper then, slimming in his abdomen and his hips were downright narrow. They nestled between hers like they'd been built for it, the two of them fitting together in ways she never had with Tom. She much preferred this, she thought, as she started to move her hips against his. It allowed him to be closer, deeper.

Her hips were assaulting his own and he was rapidly losing his self-control. They were both naked and he knew that with just one slight movement of his hips they'd align and his member would find it's own way.

They were both breathing heavily, still joined, their pelvis' flush, his hand resting on the armrest above her head and his thick and muscled legs stretched out behind them, toes curled against floor and armrest, respectively, where they had found their perches. Liz's own were wrapped around his waist and she didn't feel like moving them anytime soon.

He was beginning to cramp up in the uncomfortable position, her couch was quite short, and he moved to relive it. She went with him, sitting in his lap on the couch, his hands on her hips to steady her. She laid her head on his chest and listened to the steady thump-thump of his heart. He moved one hand to her hair and played with it, twirling it around a finger and feeling how soft it was. He'd missed this, in the days since Audrey's death. Sitting together, pressed naked with a woman, her in his arms, letting him play with her hair in the half-darkness, not a worry in the world. She hugged him tightly, her arms between him and the couch and just relaxed into his grasp, the welcoming feel of his fingers in her hair.

No worries. Until the next day, the next case. When the light of day would break through the solitude they had built for themselves in the darkness of the night. Until the next criminal, the next middleman, the next victims, the next innocent man, woman or child.

"Can you keep a secret?" he asked, quietly, murmuring the words to the crown of her head.

"I've been doing okay with this one haven't I?" she responded, clearly indicating the - whatever it was - arrangement they had going on.

He chuckled softly in response but nodded his agreement before continuing.

"The kids we have to save? I hate it when it's kids. You know how many times I want to just pick them up and run? If I could I'd take all the kids home with me. I wish I could. I mean adults, adults is one thing, even if they are completely innocent, and I feel bad but they don't cloud my judgement. But kids?" he shook his head.

"Older kids are trickier because they already have parents and a way of life and they can think for themselves. Like that girl Amy today? She was brainwashed, yes, but she past the age of just relocating. She's old enough to remember. But young kids? Babies? It just makes you think, you know? What has this world come to?"

"I know" said Liz. "I also know that you can't take a baby. As bad as I know you want one. They're not yours to take, Ress."

"I know" he said. "That's why I haven't. But on the other hand, sometimes nobody would notice. And the baby that was mine is gone. And I want one."

"And you'll have one" said Liz with all confidence. "Someday. But you have to come by it naturally, you can't steal babies. Then you're no better then the criminal in the first place. And you are. You are better then that."

"I know" he said, sighing deeply. "But I'll tell you one thing. If I ever do have kids they're having a normal life. I'm not telling anybody, even at work. I don't want them involved in that aspect of my life at all."

"Fair" said Liz. "Honestly, I'd probably do the same. I'd tell you, of course, and I hope you'd tell me, but they would have a normal life - at least as much as I can."

He nodded and was quiet for a minute, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. Then with an exaggerated groan he got to his feet with her in his arms, his muscles protesting that so much we being asked of them at such a late hour.

"Well, I don't think either of us is actually ready to start a family just yet" said Ressler. "What do you say we take this to your bedroom and forget for the night?"

"I say 100% yes" said Liz, wrapping her legs firmly around his waist, ankles locked. He carried her down the hall and into her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him before falling with her to the bed.