Chapter Three: Standstill

Unless all hell was breaking loose, Saturdays tended to be quiet around the Post Office. Ressler had hoped to get a start on the mounding paperwork that was threatening to break his desk that morning so that he could slip out early enough to make his dinner date that night. The hope faded fast when the big yellow doors to the lift opened up and he saw Tom Keen standing in the middle of the mostly-empty war room.

Aram Mojtabai stood with him, Agnes Keen seated on his shoulders and leaning over to make a face. "Again, Uncle 'Ram! Again!" she giggled.

"So you think she will or she won't think that?" Aram was asking, paying more attention to Tom than Agnes and the pair of small hands pounding the top of his head.

"Again!"

Aram looked up, a little startled. "What's the magic word?"

"Please?"

Ressler stood and watched as their MIT-trained tech expert started to spin around.

"I think you should be more focused on what you think it means," Tom said with a shrug.

"But Liz also said-"

Tom opened his mouth and closed it several times like he continued to think better of every statement that wanted to escape.

"This isn't a daycare, Keen," Ressler called out and Liz's husband actually looked relieved that he'd gotten out of answering whatever loaded question Aram had asked.

"Just…. don't make a big deal about it. Be cool. Ressler, just the guy I was waiting on. Are you trying to give Aram relationship advice? Seriously, man?"

Ah. So that was it. Aram was still caught up on that ring. "He's been dating her for two years now. She's gonna think it's an engagement ring."

Aram motioned like he'd already told Tom that and Tom shook his head. "Fake girlfriend over here isn't good for advice."

Ressler rolled his eyes. "At least I've never dated anyone for a case. And she's not fake."

"See, I'd believe you if we got to meet her."

"How old are you?"

Tom flashed a grin.

Agnes started to squirm to get down from Aram's shoulders. "Uncle Donnie, you next!"

She slipped and Tom caught her mid-fall, easing the descent in a practiced way that made Ressler think that her climbing stage had only become more daring recently. "Not right now, baby girl. Uncle Donnie and I need to talk." He looked up at Aram. "You have a few minutes to watch her?"

"Yeah, sure. Agnes, you want to see something cool?"

"Yeah!"

Tom nodded towards Ressler's office and the ginger agent's lips twitched downward as he started forward. "What's so important that you couldn't pick up a phone?"

"I thought you might this one in person."

That didn't sound good. "Liz decide not to come?"

"She's at a session with the shrink. She thinks she's close to getting the all clear for reinstatement."

Ressler glanced over at the wording and tone. "You don't think so?"

"It's not Liz. It's the lady." He ran a hand through his dark hair, standing it on end. "I just don't like shrinks and this lady won't let up on her."

"You do remember your wife is board certified, yeah?"

"She's the exception to a pretty firm rule I have about it."

Ressler chuckled and closed the door to his new office behind them. Tom looked around, studying the space. He waited for a moment before passing him to take a seat at the desk. It was still strange looking st the room from Cooper's chair. It wasn't his chair anymore, though. No more than it was his office. Ressler was still trying to decide how he felt about the change.

Tom cleared his throat. "Halcyon has been making some changes lately."

"Yeah, I hear you're finally getting your headquarters moved. That'll make it easier on you."

"Not just that."

Tom wasn't meeting his gaze regularly, which didn't leave Ressler with any sense of confidence in the conversation. "This whole…. thing -" he motioned between them - "- with Halcyon and the Task Force won't work if you're not honest, Tom."

"We've been looking at ways to build on programs. Tighten them up, make them better. One of those is our training program." He finally looked at Ressler. "I've been looking into… acquiring St Regis."

"The one Gina Zanetakos is running?" Tom nodded and Ressler motioned to the chair in front of the desk. "This is going to take a minute. Might as well sit."

Liz's husband did as he was asked and Ressler listened to him spell out his plan, his reasoning, and how it had all been shot to hell when his crazy ex had shown up at their place the night before. All the careful layout had rested on Zanetakos agreeing to it and she had found out too soon, sending it into a tailspin. "So is this just a friendly heads up or do you want something?" Ressler asked carefully.

Tom didn't seem offended by that. Instead he sat back. "I've known Gina since we were fifteen. I was… trying to give her an out."

"How'd that work out for you?"

That earned him a glare before Tom sighed, his shoulders sagging a little. "She's a big girl. She can make her own decisions, but that doesn't change the fact that she's going to get removed from her position. Probably with a bullet to the head. Any of the guys that would take her place would make Bud look like a saint."

"Same guy that tried to kill you?" Ressler confirmed.

"Twice, yeah. Also raised me." He blinked and the emotions that threatened to become too clear through his dark eyes were shoved behind what Ressler could only assume was a mask of indifference. "These are the types of people that he Task Force would go after. Definitely not on your radar. They're not committing the crimes themselves, but they're training up next generations of operatives that you'll only see shadows of as you're cleaning up after them."

Ressler met his gaze. "Yeah, I've seen the destruction you're capable of."

"Are we in the same side or not?"

Ressler pulled back, the snap catching him by surprise. "So you'll give us these guys and you'll get… what, exactly? Just so I'm clear."

"Files, mostly."

Mostly wasn't encouraging, but it was possible that it was just coming from working with Reddington so long. "Right. It sounds like something we could work together on. You've got the knowledge for it. Zanetakos knows where you live now though…"

"I'll handle Gina."

He wasn't sure he wanted to know what that meant, but he nodded, reaching a hand out. "Guess this means we're working together."

Tom took the hand and offered him a wink. "Never thought you'd see the day, huh?"

"I'm going to regret this."

A loud crash drew both men's attention followed almost immediately Aram's "It's okay! We're okay!" and Agnes' high pitched giggle.

"She's a handful isn't she?" Ressler asked, almost afraid to look out the window.

Tom grinned. "You have no idea."

The lead had come in not an hour before he was due in to meet Gabriel Moreau and Howard had followed it. At this point a shot in the dark was better than no shot at all. They had been steps behind this whole trip and while Scottie was determined Moreau wouldn't fail them, Howard felt a desperation clawing at him that he hadn't felt in years. It was a drive for answers. Once Davis went to trial he wondered if they would lose their chance to find out what had happened to their boy. To fill in the gaps.

Scottie had been hesitant to send him off alone, and after the botched meet he knew she would think he had gone too far. He had taken a risk and while it could have ended much worse than it had, there was no getting around it. Howard drew in a steadying breath as he pushed the door open to the hotel suite.

It was quiet. Empty. For half a beat as he closed the door behind him he thought maybe he had made it back before his wife had. He could take a shower, clean up, and —

"Howard? What took so long?" Scottie rounded out of the bedroom, still toweling off her long, dark hair and she paused to let her gaze travel the length of him. "What happened?"

"It looks worse than it is," he said, motioning to the split over his eyebrow and the bruising that was bound to show.

Scottie snorted and disappeared back around the corner without a word. He didn't have the energy to ask her what she was up to and moved to a mirror, leaning in to inspect the damage. It wasn't as bad as it had felt, the blow unexpected and his attacker had been wearing a ring on top of that. It would leave a mark, but not a permanent one.

"Do we need to call someone for clean up?"

Howard let his gaze drift ever so slightly to focus on the woman approaching behind him. She had a washcloth in one hand and what looked like a portable medkit in the other. She hadn't bothered to change out of her robe. "That's not necessary," he assured her as he took the cloth and pressed it against the injury, wincing as he did. "And no. It didn't go that far."

"I could tell you I told you so."

"You could, but what good would that do us?"

Scottie made a soft sound and set the kit down. "Stop," she instructed, taking the washcloth again. She reached up, her touch more gentle than he would have thought having shown up like he did. After the discussion - or lack thereof - that they'd had before he'd sent her on alone after the lead that they were in Paris for.

"I know what you think."

"What's that?"

"That it was reckless."

"I don't think that." There was a beat of a pause and her dark eyes met his blue. "I know it." He snorted and she stepped back. "You know it too."

Howard's lips twitched down and he didn't respond.

"We should go home."

"We're not due back for a few days. Surely Moreau hasn't found a lead already."

Her long fingers gripped at the formerly-white cloth and he saw all the signs of Scottie weighing a thought. "I haven't seen you like this in years," she said at last.

"It was a viable lead."

"It was a shot in the dark," Scottie snapped. "We have him, Howard. We have our son and he has a beautiful little girl of his own and we're on the other side of the world."

He set his jaw a little. "You wanted to come. To find a way to-"

"I still do." She reached forward, her fingers brushing the side of his face. Damn her if she didn't know exactly how to get his attention. "And we will, but I won't lose you to it again. Not when we have him."

Howard watched her and there was a strange openness to her voice. She was trying to be honest with him. No tricks, no manipulation, just the fears she had. It was what they had promised each other and the only way the relationship was going to work.

He swallowed hard. "No reason to sit around here and wait for him to find something."

Scottie's palm was still against his face and he felt her fingers curl against the hair there. She leaned in and he kissed her back, feeling some of the manic drive ease as he sunk a little deeper into the kiss. After a long moment he felt her hands move to start working at the buttons on the front of his shirt. "I thought we were leaving," he murmured against her.

She pulled back, worry replaced by mischief. "If you want to leave right this second…"

Howard grinned and pulled her back in. They had time.

They sat staring at each other, both women wanting something different from the impromptu session that had been called that morning. The lazy morning that Liz had had planned was shot to hell the moment Gina Zanetakos had shown up at their home. Tom was reading Ressler in and if she wanted a chance to be on the case, she needed Dr Fulton to sign off on her psych eval.

"Why today?"

Liz blinked, the blonde woman's voice drawing her out of her thoughts. "I'm ready."

"You called at seven on a Saturday morning to see if I had an opening."

There was a pause as Liz weighed her options. She could sidestep again, but Fulton wasn't an idiot. Frustrating, but not an idiot. Her clearance level was high enough to provide Liz with a resource to talk about things she wouldn't normally talk about with others, but there were times when she found herself wary. Cautious. The problem was that she wasn't sure if it was an instinct she should listen to or her own secretive nature that had only intensified over the last few years. Either way, her reinstatement rested in this woman's hands. She had to give her something.

Liz pursed her lips together. "There's a case that Tom's bringing to the Task Force. I'd like to be a part of it."

"You don't think that's a conflict of interest?"

"No more than my entire career with the Task Force has been so far."

Fulton actually chuckled at that. "What is it about this one?"

Liz paused at that, weighing her words. The therapist might have clearance, but precious few outside of the Task Force knew details of Tom's past. The investigation into it that had actually made it to the Bureau was locked up tight and Fulton certainly wouldn't have access to it. She wouldn't even know it existed. "It's time. I want to get back to my job."

"That's an answer."

But not the one she was looking for. Liz steadied herself. "It's an organization that goes after children. My team came across it a few years ago on a case, but they weren't the main target."

"Goes after?"

"Warps. Twists." Liz's jaw tightened. "They take scared, vulnerable children and turn them into cold-blooded killers."

"This sounds personal for you."

"I have a little girl. I can't help but think about her in that situation." That was true. That was honest.

"And Reddington can't protect your family now."

Liz stiffened at that. She was trying to lead her around to the only subject she seemed truly interested in. "I can protect my family. Tom and I can protect our family."

Fulton offered a thin smile. "Do you feel like you need to be involved in this case to protect them?"

"Yes." The answer slipped out before Liz gave it permission, and with it the timer sounded off to the side. The hour was complete.

The therapist gave a thin smile. "The grieving process is different for everyone. Losing someone you care about is something that must be worked through. A…. complicated relationship makes that more difficult, but you're strong, Elizabeth. I believe you can get there."

"Then you'll sign off on my full reinstatement?"

The smile didn't fade as the alarm continued to chirp. "I think you're on the schedule for Monday. We'll chat then."

Liz knew a dismissal when she heard it. There were no promises, no guarantees. She wanted her to talk about Reddington. Until then, until Fulton was convinced that Liz had worked through her grief, they were at a standstill.

She was halfway out of the office and pulling her phone from her purse to call Tom when it started buzzing on her hand. Liz blinked at the number, not recognizing it. "Keen," she answered.

"Liz, hey. It's Dumont."

Well that was a surprise. "Hey… Are you having trouble getting ahold of Tom? He's over at the Post Office and reception can be-"

"No, no. I'm lookin' for you."

There was a pause, a little awkward, and Liz stepped out into the morning air. "What's up?"

"Tom, uh… gave me a roll of film a while back. He got it from some guy's place…. Williams? Wilson?"

"Wilkenson. Yeah. I know what you're talking about." With everything that had happened, she'd forgotten about the reel of film that Tom had found in the garage.

Apparently Dumont had too. "Yeah, sorry it took so long. Few things on the plate. I got it though."

"Great. You can email that over, but…" She glanced back at the building, the feeling of being watched tugging at her. "Why are you calling me on this?"

"I did some digging once I got the film developed. One of the people was your buddy Wilkenson, but there was a girl. Young. I used a program I've been workin' on - better than you guys use. I'll get a copy to Aram if he wants it - to age her up. You're not gonna believe who the little girl is."

The phone chimes in her ear, signaling a message. Dumont was waiting as if he knew and Liz pulled it back to look. Her breath caught at the first image of a much younger Dom Wilkenson with a little girl on his lap. She was smiling, and something about the smile reminded Liz of Agnes. As she swiped over to the following image, the aged up rendering, she loosed the breath. "That's-"

"Yep," Dumont said from the other end of the line. "Katarina Rostova."

TBC

Notes: I'm bummed that Liz still doesn't know Dom's her grandfather. Time to handle it in fanfiction.

Also... Dr Fulton? I have plans. *insert evil laughter here* :P

Next Time: Liz goes to Halcyon, Tom considers his past with Gina, and the Hargraves come home.