Jacob's eyelids felt like they weighed ten pounds each. He really should sleep. Elizabeth had been unconscious for hours, and the hospital was shut for visitors for the night. She was as secure as she would ever be in a building like that. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the multiple screens covering the wall of the van.

It had been a busy 32 hours. After speaking to Dembe he'd put a gun and a ski mask in his pocket, and went looking for Ronnie. Jacob had been able to track the asshole's phone to a nearby bar. He'd broken into Ronnie's car and waited in the backseat for the man to return.

Jacob smiled at the memory of putting the gun to the back of the man's head and explaining very carefully to Ronnie that he was never ever see, speak to, or contact Elizabeth Scott ever again. After relieving the idiot of his apartment key, Jacob had cracked him hard against the temple, and left Ronnie there in his parked car. He'd returned to Liz's apartment, taken everything that belonged to her boyfriend, bagged it, and dropped it into the building's dumpster. When Liz eventually returned to her apartment there wouldn't be anything left to remind her of the parasite who used to live there.

Once he'd finished up removing all remnants of Ronnie Stevens, he'd driven over to his watch post, and swapped out his car for the surveillance van. Jacob had then departed for the hospital. Not only had he hacked the building's surveillance feed, but he'd also planted a camera in Elizabeth's room. He'd posed as a flower delivery man, to gain access while Elizabeth was off being evaluated by one of the hospital shrinks. Jacob had used a vase of yellow roses he'd purchased and a baseball cap to hide his face from the security cameras. It was probably an unnecessary precaution, but it didn't hurt to be careful.

He remembered the look on Liz's face when she'd returned and saw the flowers: confused, but hopeful. Jacob suspected she thought the flowers were from Ronnie. He'd watched her all day, and he hadn't seen her reach out to any of her friends from school. She hadn't even called her father. Was it shame at what she's done? Did she not want to bother them? What was going on inside Elizabeth Scott's head? Better question: Why did he care? Why, after staying awake for over thirty hours, was he striving to understand the inner workings of her mind, rather than simply getting some much needed sleep?

Suddenly the door to the van flew open and on instinct Jacob whipped out his gun and found himself pointing it at Raymond Reddington.

"Mr. Davis. I apologize for the lateness of my visit, but business delayed me longer than expected." Reddington spoke as though they had had an appointment, as though Jacob had been expecting him. He had not. At the most he'd expected a follow-up call earlier in the day, but when it hadn't come Jacob had assumed his brief report to Dembe had been sufficient Apparently he'd been wrong.

"Mr. Reddington." Reddington stepped into the van, and strolled over to the monitors, leaving Jacob to shut the door behind him.

"I had a van once as a teenager, I bought it second hand. Hideous yellow exterior and always smelled vaguely of corn chips. Still I made some wonderful memories there with Janet Watts. But to business, how is Miss Scott?" Jacob struggled to shift his sleep deprived mind into gear.

"They pumped her stomach. She'll make a full recovery." Reddington nodded absently his eyes drifting to screen with the image of the sleeping girl.

"And psychologically? Will she try to kill herself again." Had Reddington's voice hitched slightly on the words 'kill herself' or was Jacob imagining things.

"She didn't try to kill herself." Jacob's tone was a little sharper than he'd intended, causing Reddington to raise his eyebrows.

"Then how exactly would you interpret swallowing a handful of pill and not calling for an ambulance?" Jacob fought the urge to rub his eyes. The last thing he needed was to show any sign of weakness to a man like Reddington.

"It a test. He had been unfaithful. Elizabeth created a situation to see if he would help her, protect her. She wanted him to prove himself loyal to her, despite his betrayals. He failed." Jacob wondered what would have happened if Ronnie had proved himself. Would Elizabeth have taken him back? Or had she simply wanted the reassurance that she was still loved, still wanted, before she kicked his ass to the curb.

"Do you foresee this kind of behavior happening again?" He seriously considered the question. Elizabeth's actions hadn't been premeditated, she hadn't planned to overdose. It was clear she was humiliated in the aftermath of her hospitalization. No, she wouldn't make the same mistake again. She was too smart for that.

"No. She's impulsive and stubborn, but as I said, not suicidal. This was an aberration, brought on by the stress of her father's illness. Also I've removed the stresser from her life. Ronnie Stevens will no longer be an issue." Reddington tilted his head to the side, perusing his lips, clearly displeased.

"How?" This wasn't the response Jacob was expecting. He'd assumed Reddington would be happy he'd taken the initiative.

"I convinced him it wasn't in his best interest to contact her again." Surely Reddington hadn't intended to let that dead weight continue to be a sponge in Elizabeth's life after what he'd done.

"Mr. Davis it sounds as though you are treading dangerously close to the boundaries of your assignment." So that was the issue? The "no direct interference" clause of the contract?

"I was hired with the primary directive of protecting Elizabeth. Removing Ronnie Stevens from her life falls under that heading." Reddington may have been the boss, but Jacob was the agent in the field. Jacob couldn't be effective at his job if Reddington micromanaged the way he did it.

"Miss Scott." Jacob blinked, confused.

"Excuse me?"

"You've just referred to your protectee as "Elizabeth" for the second time in as many minutes. Names are important Mr. Davis. They establish familiarity, relationships. It is essential that you remember that to you, that woman is and always will be Miss Scott." Jacob schooled his face into its most neutral expression, but underneath his mind was racing. How could he have been so sloppy? And why did Reddington have to be so damn perceptive, sniffing out a weakness Jacob himself hadn't been aware of 48 hours ago?

"Yes, Sir." Reddington snorted elegantly at Jacob's formality, and crossed back over to the van's door.

"Please drop the veneer of respect Mr. Davis. It doesn't suit you. I look forward to receiving your next report." And on that note Reddington pulled the door open and left as abruptly as he had come.

Jacob turned back to his screens, deep in thought. He'd told himself he'd wait to make a decision on whether or not pull the plug on this assignment. The only way to do that was to examine the facts as he knew them: 1) He was attracted to Elizabeth Scott. Her beauty, her passion, he volatility, her intelligence, her strength, and her vulnarability somehow appealed to him in a strange and somewhat frightening way. 2) Reddington suspected his attraction. 3) If he asked for extraction he'd get a black mark from both Reddington and Bill that would be hard to scrub out. Conclusion: He would stay. As the saying went, familiarity bred contempt. Jacob was certain that if he watched Elizabeth Scott long enough, he'd grow bored with her. He'd cure himself of his crush with no one being the wiser.

Satisfied with his decision Jacob leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes. As he slipped into unconsciousness one last thought drifted rebelliously across his exhausted mind: Good night, Liz.