This is another one-shot from Episode 2, "Monarch Douglas Bank". Ressler was a wonderful combination of fully on, and yet completely off his game in this episode! But on watching it several times, what I began to see is how wary Liz was with Ressler. Even before the 'sitting there doing nothing/his reactions were crap' scene, she was looking at him carefully. Which got me thinking…what happened between him arriving late for work and them leaving to go catch the plane to Warsaw that got her feeling so cautious around him? And then my imagination took over…

"I want you and Ressler on the next flight to Warsaw." Said Cooper, having heard enough. If he was upset - or at least curious - why his lead agent had shown up late for work, he certainly wasn't going to mention it here.

Liz's gaze flickered to Ressler, who was looking at Cooper. Their boss had directed the order at her, but Ressler answered for both of them. "Yes, sir." She thought he looked decidedly uncomfortable talking to Cooper.

As Cooper and Aram walked away, she turned her attention fully to her partner. Physically, he looked the same as ever. Suit pressed, tie impeccably placed, shirt ironed, and shoes so shiny she would see her reflection in them (if she'd looked down that far), but still there was something…different… about him. It wasn't how he looked. It was how he carried himself. Right now the air of "I'm trying to appear like everything is normal' was radiating off him so thick she could cut it with a knife.

"Everything okay?" she asked, eyeing him dubiously, knowing full well he wasn't reading the file he was apparently engrossed in.

He made sure to appear distracted, looking at the file on the MD Bank. "Yeah, I'm fine." He looked up, seeing she wasn't buying that. "Just missed my train." He normally drove in, very rarely taking the train.

You just dug a little hole and stepped right into it feet first.

She was looking at him warily, but he couldn't handle her scrutiny right now. Not after the night he'd just had. Not with his entire muscular system still inwardly quivering like a violin string ready to snap.

"What?" And as soon as it was out, he knew he'd said it too abruptly.

Way to go, that's not going to make her suspicious. Not. At. All.

She didn't say anything. Didn't need to. Because he knew what she was thinking, and if she voiced it, things would go downhill rapidly. There were times he really hated having a profiler for a partner. But then again, he was no profiler yet he could read her pretty well. Without another word he looked at her impatiently then walked away, heading to their office.

Damn it. Settle down. Just act normal. Breathe…

He inhaled deeply; trying to follow his inner voice as he walked to their office with his head down, not wanting to meet anyone's gaze. No one could tell a thing if they looked up at him. But HE knew things were different. It wasn't painted on his back, like the bright yellow FBI on their navy jackets, but to him it felt like there was a giant sign on his back for all to read.

FDA (Federal Drug Addict) or maybe FBSTD (Former Boy Scout Turned Druggie). Shit. I'm a freakin' drug addict.

Liz was a few steps behind him, reading the tension in his shoulders, the incline of his head, and the half clench of his fists. He whipped around the doorway to their shared office, and if she didn't know better, she'd swear he was about to punch the doorway as he went through but held back at the last second.

Leaning in the doorway of their office, watching him as he threw some things in his bag in preparation for their flight, she almost couldn't drag her eyes off him. What the hell was going on with her partner? If Dr Friedman saw him right now, she'd cart him off kicking and screaming to her office. Putting him in a straight jacket if need be.

His skin almost crawled under her scrutiny. Dammit! Stop looking at me like that! The thought occurred to him that calling in sick might have been a 'better' option today. But that wouldn't have worked. Cooper practically forbade his agents to be sick. Ressler didn't even know the protocol for calling in sick, come to think of it. What he did know though, was that he couldn't take Liz looking at him a second longer. Finished with his overnight bag now, he roughly zipped it closed and looked up at her.

"For God's sake, Keen. I was late. Get over it." It was out before he realized, and he turned from her and scowled.

Smooth move. Let's get the hell out of here.

"Okay, well, as long as you're fine." She said, entering their office now. Of course he wasn't fine, but if that's how he wanted to play it, she would give him the benefit of the doubt. Silently grabbing her gear from her filing cabinet, she held her tongue as he barged past her, exiting their office. If his actions had been subtle when he'd arrived, he had now risen to full on bull-in-a-china-shop mode.

Ressler's imagined sign on his back now felt like it was illuminated in neon. With the Goodyear blimp hovering above it for good measure, advertising it for all to see.

How the hell did I let this happen?!

Following Ressler through the war room, she nodded her farewell to Aram who smiled as she walked by his desk. Aram stole a glance at Ressler as he powered past him with Liz in tow. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something…not right…about Agent Ressler. In all honesty when he looked at the man, the impression Aram got was that of a loaded gun about to go off. And that was kinda scary…

As Liz stepped into the elevator Ressler held the door open for her, but did not meet her eyes. She looked sideways at him again as the elevator rose. He could feel her gaze, and was feeling increasingly hostile under the weight of it.

"Okay, enough of this." She reached by him and pressed the Stop button on the elevator. The gears ground to a halt, and they stopped between floors, in a yellow, silent box.

He groaned inwardly. Let it go Keen.

Facing him, she dropped her bag to the floor, and kept her voice low and steady. "Before we step out of this elevator, you are going to tell me what is going on."

He slowly turned to look at her, silently meeting her eyes. He kept his voice steady, trying not to betray the anger bubbling below the surface. "We have a car waiting. We don't have time for this." He went to press the Go button, but she beat him to it, covering it with her hand. His hand landed on hers, and he quickly dropped it, turning to face her silently.

"Spill it, Ressler." She gave him 'the look'. She knew he never could outlast that one.

He wasn't going to let her win that one today, though, suddenly unsure why he couldn't control the rising anger he was feeling.

You're a drug addict. Connect the dots, genius.

He leaned into her now, dropping his overnight bag on the floor as he faced her, his voice controlled, but taut. "Why are you so concerned about me being late? You're late four days out of five, Keen. Do I give you the third degree every time?!"

"I'm WAY past only being concerned about you being late, Ressler. My concern now is …this." She waved her hand at him, encompassing him standing before her like a coiled spring.

"I am only like THIS because you feel the need to profile every thing I do." He answered her, leaning in even further.

"I'm not profiling you. A week ago you told me the Bureau had only assigned shrinks to cover their asses in case one of us wigs out. 'That ain't gonna be me' you said. News Flash, from where I'm standing, you are seriously close to wigging out here."

"I'm close to it? Says the woman who doesn't live in one place more than a week, who is using aliases and thinks she's being followed. Take a look in the mirror Keen, before you start accusing ME of something." His voice was raised now as he shoved his hands in his pockets to avoid pointing in her face.

His fingers felt the bottle of Oxy sitting in his right pocket, and he gripped it hard. Dammit. His stomach dropped to the floor. For one awful moment he almost felt like Liz could see the pills right there in his pocket.

Liz was about to offer a heated reply when her phone buzzed. It was Aram, texting her.

[You guys okay? We see the elevator is stopped between floors.]

She sighed and typed a quick reply. [Staff meeting] She dropped her phone back in her pocket, not waiting for a reply.

The text from Aram had distracted her. But the interruption - not to mention the bottle of pills gripped tightly in his hand - had defused Ressler. In a matter of seconds, his anger fled the scene. In seconds, he went from coiled spring ready to thump something …or someone… to standing there with his head down, feeling nothing but dismay.

When she looked up from her phone, she immediately saw the change in him. It was night and day. She swallowed the reply she'd had loaded and ready to fire, and instead, exhaled heavily.

"I'm worried about you Ressler. You're not yourself, and we're going on foreign soil and I need you to have my back." She told him, leaning down to look into his face that was still dropped, looking at the floor of the elevator.

"I've always had your back, Liz. Don't question that now."

"Yes, I know… but you're not ...YOU right now…"

He knew she wasn't letting this one go, and if they were ever to get out of here and to the airport without missing their flight, he had better make this good. He had better make it believable. With a profiler for a partner, truth was his best defense. His only defense.

Well - PARTIAL truth.

He inhaled, then let it out slowly, then lifted his head to face her, meeting her square on. "Since you're so interested in this, fine. I didn't sleep very well last night. It was one of those more …difficult nights." He glanced to the side, then back at her, almost pleading with her not to ask any more than that.

Just don't ask. Don't ask, Keen.

With great effort, she suppressed the urge to again tell him he needed to talk to Dr Friedman. As she looked into his eyes, there was no denying he was telling the truth. She was also very much aware that he was hiding the reason WHY the night had been more difficult.

"I know you've had difficult nights before yet still been early to work though… " She said, trying her best not to sound judgmental or accusatory.

She hadn't asked, stating it as a fact rather than a question. He met her eyes, and then glanced away again.

Let it go already, Liz.

She continued when he didn't answer. "I'm not prying… I'm just… worried about you. You're not yourself today." She tilted her head to look at him, and he turned back to her, meeting her blue eyes with his own.

PARTIAL truth.

"The difference was that this time I forgot to set my alarm."

Because I was a strung out wreck at the time.

"And why couldn't you just tell me that when you got here?" She asked him.

He looked down, then met her eyes again and actually managed a hint of a smile. "It's a guy thing. We have our…male chauvinistic pride, remember?" In the dim, yellow light of the elevator, his eyes shone as he looked at her, eyes that were a little bloodshot, she noticed now.

"Yeah… Look," she placed her hand briefly on his arm, "just don't wig out on me, okay?"

I'm trying not to Keen.

"Because I need you to have my back. And so far you haven't instilled much confidence in me today, okay?" She told him. Yes, she felt bad for him that he'd had a bad night. But they all had bad nights – and didn't act like he had today. So yes, she was concerned. And worried. And something else - she was wary of him, almost waiting for him to have a meltdown. And that was the most unsettling aspect of all.

He looked silently at her, not wanting to tell her any more than he had. Their eyes locked for a moment longer before he nodded. Reaching past him, she pressed the Go button to release the elevator.

"Okay, then let's roll." She said, then looked sheepishly at him.

"You stole my line." He said, a half smile appearing now, as the elevator shuddered a moment before resuming its upward journey.

She looked at him again, silently begging him to be okay. Because she couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling that something was most definitely NOT okay with him.

On the surface at last, the doors opened at the parking garage level. Picking up their bags they stepped out together, before Ressler jogged briskly down the stairs followed closely by Liz, to the waiting vehicle outside.