5. "I refuse to take part in this."

"Please, Ress!"

"No way, Liz, too weird. Plus, I hate Valentine's Day."

"Aww, come on, it's not a big deal!"

"Nope. I refuse to take part in this."

"Oh, just help me out, you owe me!"

"What?! I do not!"

"Yes, you do! I covered for your lazy ass with Cooper last week when you came in late, remember?"

"So what, big deal!"

"Oh, so, you weren't stuck in traffic, after all? Were you in fact recovering from a late-night date with that cute blonde analyst? What's her name again? Annie? Do you think Copper would be interested to know that?"

"…All right, fine. I'll help you. But I won't enjoy it."

"Don't care."

"…"

"Thanks, Ress."

"Sure, Keen."

Ressler turns on the last tiny, battery-powered candle and places it into the final paper boat, pushing it out gently to float on the surface of the small lake with all the others.

"Jeez, Keen, you got enough candles? I don't think Smokey the Bear would like this very much."

"They're LEDs, asshole."

"Whatever."

Now that all the candles are afloat, Ressler steps back to admire the view. It really looks quite nice; the sun is just starting to set, and the little boats are flickering nicely on the surface of the water. It makes the perfect scene from the bench on the bank of the lake, where Liz is currently making last minute adjustments to the rose petals scattered haphazardly over the grass and the champagne bottle chilling in the ice bucket.

It looks like something out of a particularly gag-worthy rom-com.

(And while Ressler professes to hate all things romance and lovey-dovey, even he has to admit… Keen's done a pretty good job.)

Ressler looks over at Liz, hovering over the bench, making minute adjustments to the angle of the champagne bottle in the bucket, chewing on her lip anxiously as she does so.

Ressler rolls his eyes. "Keen," he drawls.

She looks up, a little too startled considering they're the only two here.

"Leave it alone, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" she asks uncertainly. "I want it to be perfect but –"

"Liz," Ressler interrupts her firmly. "Relax. He's gonna love it."

Her face softens. "Thanks, Ress."

And then she jumps again, this time at the sound of crunching tires.

"He's here!" she exclaims, looking so girlishly excited that Ressler can't help but grin a little. "You remember what to do, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember," Ressler mumbles, working hard to look more like his trademark grumpy self.

(Valentine's Day may be stupid holiday, just a dumb excuse for capitalist jerks to sell more candy and stuffed animals, but…this is kind of fun.)

He trudges off, a little pep in his step despite his complaining. He knows that if he doesn't intercept Reddington before he gets out of the car, Liz'll give him hell.

"Hey, Reddington!"

Ressler sees movement behind the tinted windows of the backseat and breaks into a jog, skidding to a halt in front of the car door right as Reddington pushes it open, effectively blocking Reddington's view of the lake with his body.

Red looks up at him in surprise, frozen halfway out of the car. "…Donald," he greets after a long moment, audibly confused. "May I ask what it is you're doing?"

"Sure," Ressler nods matter-of-factly. "You gotta close your eyes and follow me over to the lake. Keen's orders."

Red frowns.

"I thought I was meeting Elizabeth here –"

"You are," Ressler interrupts. "But she's got a surprise for you. Something to do with Valentine's Day…?"

Ressler trails off suggestively and watches as Red's expression changes from one of mild confusion to surprise to something like…wonder.

Ressler shifts uncomfortably on his feet. "Well, you coming or what? She's excited."

Red looks down for a moment, seeming to gather himself, and when he looks up again, Ressler sees the return of the Concierge of Crime. Ressler feels a little relieved at the sight.

(He's much more familiar with the Concierge than he is with that odd, love-struck Reddington.)

Red gets out of the car and straightens to face him, regarding him for a moment before raising a skeptical eyebrow. "And you volunteered to help Agent Keen with this little romantic endeavor? I find that hard to believe."

Ressler snorts. "Yeah, not exactly. She blackmailed me."

Reddington chuckles, his eyes glinting in something that looks annoyingly like pride.

Ressler rolls his eyes and turns around. "Eyes closed and hand on my shoulder, Reddington. Let's get this show on the road."

He waits until he feels Reddington lightly grasp his left shoulder before he starts walking forward, slowly enough that they won't trip over each other on the uneven grassy surface. They head back towards Liz, who Ressler can see in the dim light of the setting sun and glow of flickering candles, standing by the bench and bouncing restlessly on the balls of her feet.

Ressler smirks at her. She rolls her eyes at him in response.

"Donald, I'll have you know," Reddington speaks idly from behind him, as Ressler leads him carefully around a large rock near the bench. "If you lead me into the lake and get my $400 Armani shoes wet…I will shoot you."

Ressler barks a short laugh. "Thanks for the warning," he says, finally drawing them both to a stop about five paces in front of Liz. "But, unfortunately, it's not needed. We're here, you can open your eyes."

Ressler shrugs out from under Reddington's hand and moves off to the side, turning to watch Red open his eyes and take in the sight before him.

The illuminated lake. The rose petals. The champagne.

Liz.

And Ressler once again sees the appearance of the soft, vulnerable Red that made him so uncomfortable before but, when coupled with the look on Liz's face – tentative, emotional, loving – it creates a picture that Ressler can't quite tear his eyes away from.

Something about the blatant adoration between them is…sort of captivating.

(And, looking at his two friends so happy with each other, Ressler can't help having the rueful thought…maybe this stupid holiday isn't so bad, after all.)

Red is alternately looking around in awe and looking at Liz like she's the best thing he's ever seen. "Lizzie…" he murmurs.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Red," Liz says quietly and then she's stepping forward into Reddington's open arms.

And they're hugging tightly and Liz is stroking the back of his head and Reddington's rubbing her back and they're really pretty cute together, Ressler thinks, as he smiles fondly at them and oh – oh, now they're kissing and –

Ew.

It's, uh, time for him to go. Maybe he'll catch Keen later. After Valentine's Day.