2x13

"Hey" said Liz, the night after they'd settled the Deer Hunter case, as she stepped into the office she shared with Ressler, locking the door behind her. He was sitting at his desk, frown on his face, head bent forward, hand scribbling furiously in his almost-illegable chicken-scratch.

It wasn't late, but it was after supper time and she was guessing he hadn't ate. It had been a long, trying two days and she was glad to see it end. She remembered the day before when Ressler had caught her struggles with Tom, his intuition astounding her, had begged her to talk to him and willingly listened while she did. Remembered how he'd supported her while they tracked down the worst serial killer case she'd ever dealt with, while still doing his job well enough to second guess her when she needed it.

But at the end of the day, he'd been pointing a gun at her because she came far too close to killing their murderer. And it's not that she didn't deserve it, but not that way, Liz knew that.

She also knew Ressler was right when he said she would have done it if she had to, to survive. They'd gotten into a bit of a disagreement after that, only this time it wasn't about work, it was personal. She'd said that she wanted to turn herself in and he'd said no, essentially.

He'd walked up to her leaning against the brick wall in the dark.

"You okay?" he asked, stepping close enough to carry on a conversation that nobody else could hear.

"Yeah. Fine."

"Back there, uh" he drew his shoulders up, the night was chilly.

"I can't do this" she said in response to his unspoken sentence.

"Maybe you need some time. Couple weeks." he suggested. He was backlit by the flashing blue and red and it reflected in the panels of his face, bringing out the blue in his eyes and the scragglers sticking up in his hair. Liz thought she'd hardly ever seen a man so beautiful.

"When's the last time you took a vacation?" he asked, knowing from the set of her face, the reflection of the red lights on her lips, turning them cherry red., that she would never agree to that. He pulled his eyes aways.

"You're kidding right?" When's the last time you take a vacation? she wanted to retaliate. But instead she decided to thank him instead in her own way. "I would have killed her if you hadn't shown up."

"You would've done what you had to do to survive" he said, no hesitation. He knew what that was, the choice of one life over another. He'd been through that.

"Same as on the boat" she said in return. It was nice to be able to bring that up, get it out in the open. It has been bugging her for days and he was the only one she'd told.

But it wasn't the same. At least not the way he seen it. "No. That was different. That was Tom. You tried to stop him." It wasn't her, not in his mind. At least not by choice, not as the instigator, not inside.

"But I didn't" she said as he took another step closer. "I hesitated." She looked beat, Ressler thought. "And maybe I thought for just one second that it would be better for me if he were dead." Okay, truth was she'd thought about it for more then one second. If he were dead then her and Ressler would be in the clear. Problem was, 'her and Ressler' weren't anything. They weren't.

"Liz" he said, and his voiced changed, got soft in that way that it always did when he was about to tell her something personal and reassuring.

"No" she said, not giving him the chance. It wasn't okay to think like that, and she wasn't about to let the one man who had emotional sway over her change her mind. It was wrong to wish death on someone and that was that. "That man had a family" she said. "He had a life." That was the part that bugged her, the part that kept her awake at night. Another man was taking the fall for her, and she was the only one who could possibly right things.

"I'm going to Wilcox" she said "I'm gonna tell him everything." That was the only way she could think of to make things good again. She knew there would be repercussions but at least her heart wouldn't weigh 20 pounds anymore. At least the pain wouldn't be there. She would know what it's like to go free again.

But Ressler paused for a second and she could see the tension in his body increase - this time not from the cold. His brow furrowed and he spoke up again, playing devil's advocate.

"How many people do you think are alive today that wouldn't be if it wasn't for the work that we do?"

"Oh please" Liz scoffed. She knew what he was trying to do.

Right and wrong clearly wouldn't work in this scenario. He knew what was going on in her head, it was emotion. And the only way he could counter that was to use emotion himself. And he knew it. In another life he would have made a great lawyer, Liz thought. He could read people and knew what to say to make then hear him. It was a secret talent he had and he didn't use it that much, but he was now. He was desperate now. He didn't know what was going on with them. But she was his best friend, his moral support. He needed her not to be gone. Needed her in his life. So he pushed ahead.

"Fifty? A hundred? How many, Liz?" She didn't reply and he knew she was hearing him out. "How many families haven't buried a mother, a father, brother, sister - children?"

Liz both heard and seen the gulp before the word 'children'. His voice almost cracked. It didn't - but almost - and his Adam's apple bobbed dangerously. His biggest hidden demon. She knew what it took to say that, to consciously bring it to mind. He clearly cared, but the problem was,

"That doesn't make it right!"

"It's never gonna be right" said Ressler. That was the only thing that was certain. "See the only question is the body count."

Well, emotion hadn't worked. This was all that was left at his disposal.

He was raising his voice, and Liz could tell he was over it. There wasn't much more he could say at this point. It didn't seem like Liz was going to listen anyway tonight.

"So you go ahead, you nail yourself to a cross" he said. "And while you're up there feeling sanctified you consider how many people are going to die because this task force gets shut down!" Because it would - get shut down. And Liz would be gone, he'd never see her again. So he didn't care if he sounded harsh but sometimes it had to be said. "And the rest of those animals on Reddington's list are still out there - feeding." His voice was disgusted, loud. He was angry now, angry as she'd ever seen him. The word feeding came out with an edge that could have cut and Liz thought she seen a little spittle accompany it. His nostrils flared and his lips were firm.

"Ressler..." said Liz, attempting to calm him down. But that wasn't going to happen anymore.

"No, don't" he said, stabbing the air. He was pronouncing every word with a bite at the air, his lips forming the sounds and she could see in his eyes that he was miles deep now, drowning himself inside. "Don't ask me to feel your pain, Liz. I got more then enough of my own."

And with that he had turned and stalked away, shoving his hands in his pockets, head bowed. The flashing lights swept over his shoulders, his skin, the cut of his jaw, the proud features of his face gone soft in grief.

And for that she was truly sorry.

Liz walked up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders, sliding them beneath his suit jacket. It was warm, but his muscles were tense beneath her hands, hard ridges of sinew to the touch. Sneaking her hand around his neck she loosened his tie and opened the top button of his shirt. She put the pads of her thumbs on the base of his neck and massaged.

"Hey" he finally replied with a moan, dropping his hands limply to the table, pen falling between his loose fingers. Her hands were vigorously massaging the thick mounds of muscle that ran the slope of neck and shoulders, his torso wavering with the movements. "God that feels good." His head dropped in ecstacy and Liz felt his body relax beneath her ministrations.

After a few minutes, when he was leaning forward so much she thought he might just let his head thump on the table, Liz stopped. He looked up and pushed his chair back and Liz stepped around the armrest and sat sideways in his lap.

"I owe you an apology" she said. "For yesterday."

He put his arms around her waist but stopped her from laying her head on his shoulder, instead making her sit up straight.

"Liz" he said, and his eyes darted to the corner of their office where a video camera hung. Nobody actually ever bothered to watch the feed, but still. "The massage was pushing it already, but this is - coworkers in professional relationships don't sit on each other's laps."

"Oh, relax" said Liz. "I shut the camera off."

"How'd you do that?"

"You think Aram is the only one who knows how to run computers. I took it off the circuit so it wouldn't throw error codes. As far as our security department is concerned, from the inside it never existed. Yet anyone who walks into our office will think it works fine. So as long as we don't give them a reason to ever go looking at this one nobody will ever know."

"Smart" admitted Ressler, letting her settle in and lay her head on his shoulder.

"Why thank you" said Liz, closing her eyes and sighing. He had his hand on her shoulder, and was slowly rubbing her arm. It was comforting beyond belief. "I thought so."

It was quiet for a minute and Liz waited for him to say something. But he was content just to sit in the silence and take comfort in the warm body of a woman he cared for in his arms.

Finally she opened her eyes and, looking up at him, spoke again. "Well as I was saying before. I owe you an apology. And I am sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to bear my burdens like that. I know you have enough hurt of your own and I never wanted to add to that. I shouldn't have asked you to carry my pains too. You are there for me all the time - whenever I need you" she reached up and put a hand on his cheek, running it along his jaw and sweeping her thumb over his lips, pressing the top one firmly to the bottom one when he tried to speak. "You have never turned me away, you have never put yourself above me, until yesterday. And I'm glad that you did, because you needed to, for your own sanity. And I shouldn't have even said what I said, Ress. I mean, I - should have..." she trailed off. "I don't know. But I do know you've ways been there for me so thank-you. Thank-you for being there. And thank-you for saying what you said yesterday Ress. I needed to hear it."

"Well" said Ressler when she finally graciously freed his top lip and he could speak, albiet around the thumb she still pressed lightly to the bottom one. "Then I'm glad I said it" said Ressler quietly. "But I'm sorry too. If you won't let me be sorry for saying it then at least me let me at least be sorry for how I said it."

"Why?"

"I never wanted to be angry with you" said Ressler. "I don't want to fight with you, the one true friend I have at the moment."

"Friend huh?"

"Yah" he said. "Friend Liz, but also more I suppose... Friend with benefits?" he suggested. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say that we're good. That it's in the past. That we're friends again."

"Friends" said Ressler, nodding. "It's over, done. As far as I'm concerned, we never stopped being friends. We just had a fight - that's all, as friends are bound to do from time to time. But friends we are, now and forever." He smiled sweetly and Liz could tell it was genuine. "I'm good Liz" he said.

"Well in that case" said Liz in a lighter tone. "I guess I just have one more question. I just want to know if you want to give me the benefits of that friendship tonight" suggested Liz.

"Maybe in a bit" said Ressler, "I really need to finish this report first though. If I don't do it now it will never happen." He looked at her, his lips drawing tight and his eyes sympathetic.

"Okay" said Liz, sitting up straight on his lap, her bottom framed by his powerful thighs. She put a hand on his knee and leaned back, twisting to look directly at his face. "Then what do you say to some pizza?" she suggested.

"Ranouli's?" he asked, his stomach gurgling quietly at the thought. "Smoky maple bacon with grilled chicken?" It was his favorite pizza of all time and Liz smiled.

"Sure" she said, pulling out her phone to place the order. "What is it with you and white sauce pizzas?"

"White sauce pizzas are the best pizzas" he said simply. "It's just like pasta."

"Well" said Liz, standing from his lap and stretching with a groan. "It'll be here in 27 minutes. Do your thing."

He stamped his feet on the floor, trying to restore circulation in his tingling feet after Liz's weight had cut it off.

She made her way around to her desk, facing him on the opposite side of his own and pressed the power button on her computer. She might as well work if he was.

She looked up once and found him doing the same and their eyes met and they both laughed at having coincidentally caught each other in the act of peeking.

"Eyes on your paper mister" she said.

"'Eyes on your keyboard lady'" he mimicked in a high pitched voice and they laughed before focusing for real.

The pizza arrived 25 minutes later and Liz went out to the war room to collect it, bringing it back to their office along with some Pepsi she'd snagged from the break room fridge. She set a can down in front of her partner and held the pizza box out to him.

"Well" he said, setting down his pen on the almost finished paper and taking the box from her hands. "I don't know what you're going to eat" he joked, flipping it open and taking a slice before setting the box on the table.

"You can't finish a whole XL pizza" said Liz, scoffing.

"You be surprised" said Ressler with his mouth full. By the time she had brought her chair around to his side of the desk Ressler was chewing a huge mouthful, although quite politely, his second piece of pizza in his left hand, pen in his right.

It felt good to sit like this again, to share a meal with each other in the late hours of the night in the silence and peace of their office. They felt like the old them again, together in the small things.

They left the office an hour later, and went back to his place for a very long shared shower before collapsing in his bed to sleep.

When Liz woke the next morning she found she was draped across his body much like a blanket. He was still asleep beneath her, his breathing shallow and relaxed, but his body atune to hers. She woke him gently and they had a repeat performance of the shower session last night - but this time horizontally ad opposed to vertically - before getting up and beginning the day as the partners and friends they were.