Liz sat impatiently on the cool park bench. The weather was cooling down, luckily the sun was out to give her some warmth. She really wished she wore a warmer jacket than just this thin fleece thing. She had kept her hands in her pocket, taking her hands out ever now and then to check her watch. He was late.

"Damn him." she scoffed, "I tell him to be here by-"

"Liz, sorry I'm late...I over-slept." he said walking fast towards her. He wasn't wearing his usual suit jacket and tie, he was in a coat and jeans with a scarf around his neck. He called her Liz, surprisingly, she liked it a lot better than 'Keen'. She felt like an actual human when he called her 'Liz'. She felt more than just what they set her up to be.

"It's fine," she sighed, "How are you?" she asked as he sat next to her.

"Uh, I'm fine." he said not expecting her to ask her that, he figured she's shut him out about anything non-business related again. "How are you?"

"Great," she lied, "I just wanted to apologize for flipping out at you yesterday about Susie. She's basically the last thing I have left that treats me like an actual person," she laughed with a sad smile, "She told me you were nothing but nice to her."

"Keen," here we go again with 'Keen', she thought, "I'm not looking to arrest you right now. I want to get this case rolling and prove to my boss that I can do this. I've been talking a big game about hunting Reddington down my whole career. This...this is the first time I've actually got somewhere. I need this as much as you do."

"So your boss, he's okay with this?" she gestured between the two of them, "Their best agent just out with some...criminal?"

"Well, you aren't gonna try and shoot me now, are you?" he raised an eyebrow at her with a smirk.

"I will if I have to," she said with seriousness and his smile faded, "Just kidding!" she broke out in laughter, "I won't shoot you. Loosen up a bit, you're so uptight." she said poking his arm.

"Uptight?" he raised an eyebrow at her, "Is that your profile on me? You were a profiler, weren't you now?"

She hummed, thinking for a moment, "Uptight. Fueled by an inner rage. Capable of the occasional moment of tenderness that likely brings on the desire to stay up all night watching Asian p***." she finished with a smile and saw he looked mildly amused.

"Not quite," he said with a smirk.

"My turn" he said, and turned to stay right in front of her, his blue eyes deep into hers. She felt breathless for a bit and feared that he might have noticed it.

"What? You are going to profile me?" she tried to sound scornful, but her eyes just couldn't let his. Her heart was beating fast and she was feeling really stupid.

"You have a big secret. Something that determines your whole life. You flinch when you call yourself a criminal, so you don't like the denomination, which makes sense, most criminals don't think they are doing wrong, but you..." He stopped and analysed her a litle bit more, and she felt her stomach revolve. How could he know her so little and see so much?

"you fear it, it's as if this big thing you keep is the only thing that keeps you where you are. Why won't you let it go?" He frowned, genuinely asking her. For a split second, she wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to trust him and let him know. But she didn't. Instead, she leaned and kissed him on the lips.

She lingered for a few seconds, but he didn't respond. He was too shocked to do or say anything. He put his hands behind, away from her so she leaned back, ashamed.

"Sorry. I don't know what came to me"

He kept looking at her, perplexed, but then cleaned his throat and tried to change the subject.

"So, what do you have on The Stewmaker to give me?"

She couldn't really find her voice, she felt little...small even, next to him because of the kiss. She didn't expect him to act so...well...uptight about it.

Back to business, she thought. So much for being treated like an actual person for once.

"I know...I know he's related to Hector Lorca. I was involved with a case involving Lorca when I was with the FBI before things went...south." He noticed the way she acted when she talked about her turning to a criminal career. He started to think that this was not meant to happen but kept his mouth shut. After that kiss, he had himself questioning just about everything. He didn't know why he was feeling these things for a...criminal. But was she really a criminal? She wasn't bad. Far from it. She seemed harmless and kind. She had a heart, she wasn't what those papers said about her.

"Where can I find this Lorca guy?" he asked as she handed him a file folder from her bag.

"He's going into FBI custody today, if you're lucky, you won't miss the grand escape he'll have. He's connected to the Stewmaker because all of the bodies Hector's killed, the stewmaker takes care of them. Try not to miss the transfer. Once he's gone, it's the last you'll ever hear of the Stewmaker." Liz said firmly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was actually easy to get a hold of Lorca. It pays off being well connected within the agency. Ressler was not one of many friends, but he knew the right people.

He met Lorca in the transport truck right before he got transferred to jail. He had 10 minutes with the guy, which ended up being more than enough.

"We may have a friend in common" he said as he entered the truck sitting in front of the man in shackles, and Lorca looked at him with despise.

"I doubt it" he said, measuring every inch of Ressler. He held his pose and said:

"The Stewmaker. I know he's made a lot of your problems disappear " he emphasized the word problems, and raised an eyebrown to ensure Lorca he knew what he was talking. The prisioner didn't say a word.

Ressler waited a minute before making his proposal. "Tell me where to find him and maybe I can cut you a deal." The man looked up to him with the corner of his eye and he just stood there, looking bleak.

"If you know about The Stewmaker, we have more than a friend in common" he said, and Ressler knew he meant Liz. She was his CI and it was his job to protect her identity.

"I don't think we do" it was his turn to say it. The man moved slowly in his limitations, making the chains cling and drag on the floor.

"The thing is, my friend, if you're here, then he already knows you're on to him. And your friend, the one who opened the mouth, is probably already in one of his baths."

Ressler knew about the methods of the Stewmaker - a bathtub full of acid, so the victim would literally be reduced to a stew. But what did that guy mean with "he knows"?

Lorca approached him, and with his face so close he could smell his awful breath, and stare inside his dark terrifying eyes, he said:

"It's a pity. She's so pretty, don't you think? Maybe he can save you her blue eyes".

Ressler listened to that and little by little his heart stopped beating, his eyes widened in fear and hurry. He left the truck with less than he knew about the Stewmaker, but with the fear that she might have been captured. He couldn't just ignore that as a madman's blank threat, so even though he could ruin the entire operation, he took the risk.

"Aram, I need you to run a number for me, find me a location" he gave Aram her number, and begged that she didn't change her phone. In a few minutes the agent came back to him "I sent you the location via text, it's in the middle of the woods. Do you know who it belongs to?" He knew, and so did Aram by now.

He started running to his car, and screamed in the phone "send backup to this location now, Aram. She is in danger"

"But... Sir... Are we talking about Elizabeth Reddington? How do you know her? Sir? Sir?"

Ressler had already hung up the phone when Aram asked, he didn't have time to explain to him how he knew Elizabeth Keen.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Ressler got there, the lights were dim. The cabin was haunting looking. It wasn't a 'homey' cabin like the one he had in PG county with his family, this cabin was straight out of a horror movie.

The FBI seemed to have made it just in time. "Agent Ressler, ready on three?" His co-worker, Meera, said beside him. He nodded and they then kicked the door open.

Luck would have it, Raymond Reddington, the concierge of Crime was standing right by the door. "Where's Kornish?" Ressler asked immediately. Meera, beside him, was probably in shock at the Concierge of Crime beside her. Nothing really surprised Ressler anymore, though.

"We've had a little incident." Reddington sighed, "Agent Keen needs medical attention." And Ressler's eyes immediately found Liz, who was behind Reddington in a wheel chair. Bruised and fragile she sat there with tear stained cheeks. Ressler bent down quicker than he could even process. His face finding her cheek, it was cold, and her pulse which was beating slowly.

"How did you get in here?" Meera asked from beside him, she lowered her gun as the rest of the team came in. Samar and the rest of the team started investigating.

"That's a pretty blouse." Reddington said putting his fedora on and walking away from the agents, leaving Meera shocked that it was him.

"Get a medic in here now!" Ressler yelled out in panic, her pulse was so slow. His raised voice seemed to raise it though, but that was because of anxiety, he didn't want her to be anxious, not around him. "It's all over now." he said in a softer voice. "It's over now. It's okay." He said calming her, his thumb caressing her skin as more tears fell down her cheeks. She sat in the chair, temporarily paralyzed from the stewmaker's drugs. He saw as it started to fade but her body still not functioning properly. "Everything's okay." he calmed her once more as she leaned into his chest.

The medics looked her over seeing no permanent damage other than emotional trauma and slight bruising. "Agent, would you like us to walk her to the ambulance?"

"No, I've got it." he said reaching down and helping Liz get on her feet. She was weak and wobbily and leaned most of her weight on him. She was so light. "You alright?" and she just nodded.

They made their journey to the ambulance and he slowly felt her sagging. She let out a strangled sob and threw herself into his arms. Clutching onto the lapels of his jacket the fabric around them she cried on his shoulder. He held her there and let her cry, "Shhh, It's okay." he whispered. The rest of the world seemed to have disappeared as she cried there in his arms. She felt so good in his arms. He hadn't held someone in so long and feeling the weight of her against him felt nothing more than bittersweet.