The next morning Don found himself waking up to the sound of both his phone, which was next to his bed, as well as Liz's phone in the living room. He let out a groan of protest, not wanting to leave the comfort of his bed yet, but when he heard the sound of Liz walking around he made himself get out of bed. He prided himself on being a good host when he actually found himself as one; which in truth was very rarely.

He shuffled out into the living room yawning and was pleasantly surprised when Liz pushed a warm mug of coffee into his hands. He took a grateful sip before looking at Liz, wondering how she had gotten ready so fast. She seemed to pick up on the question because with a slight shrug, she said, "I've been up for a little over an hour."

Ressler opened his mouth to say something but his phone when off again, so instead, he answered with a curt, "Ressler", assuming it was the office, since both his and Liz's phones had gone off before. He was surprised, however, when instead he heard the somber tone of Dembe.

"Agent Ressler, I'm to inform you that you will be meeting Mr. Reddington in an hour.I'll text you the address." Before Ressler could respond the other side of the line went dead, leaving him with a slight frown on his face. He looked down at his phone with slight confusion for a moment until Liz got his attention by lightly clearing her throat.

With a slight frown of confusion on her own face, she asked, "What was that about? Who was it?" Don opened his mouth to respond with some half-truth, but instead for the second time in only moments he was interrupted by a ringing phone, but this time by Liz's. Instead of waiting just to lie, he strode off as she answered, going to get ready for the day ahead.

THE BLACKLIST

Liz frowned at Ressler's hesitance to answer such a simple question but changed her focus when her phone when off. She answered it without looking at the caller id, instead keeping her eyes on Ressler as he turned and walked away, back toward his room. She answered with the same curtness as Ressler, "Keen."

She felt her blood run cold at the answering voice of her husband. "Hey sweetie, I just got your message. I was just phoning to see how your all-nighter went." There was a moment of silence before he added, in a sickly sweet tone, "I hope you got at least a little sleep."

Closing her eyes to pull herself together, she took a deep breath. Trying to sound like the loving wife she was supposed to be in his eyes, she said, "Aw, thanks love, but don't worry. I managed a few hours. I've run on less before." She chuckled lightly, hoping he didn't see through the guise.

She sat down on the couch as he started to talk again. "That's good. So, I was wondering if you were going to be home in time for dinner tonight. I was thinking of making something."

Liz was searching her mind for an excuse when she saw Ressler, now dressed in a suit, walk back into the room, and before she knew what she was saying, she said, "Oh, honey, I don't know if I can tonight. I already have plans for dinner with Ressler. I don't want to cancel on him; he's been through a lot lately."

Liz watched Ressler stop in his tracks and throw a questioning look at her. She could see underlying suspicion as well as something else she couldn't name at the moment. She sent him a pleading look though. After a few beats he simply let out a breath and continued into the kitchen where he grabbed more coffee.

Her attention was pulled back to the phone by Tom. She could hear barely contained aggravation as he offered, "Why don't you bring him here. I'd love a chance to meet someone you work with under friendlier circumstance than last time."

Forcing herself to laugh slightly, she knew she would have to concede, so she agreed, "Sure. That sounds like a great idea. I'll pass the invitation along when I see him at work later." A part of her hated how easily she could lie, even if it was to Tom. After promising to tell him as soon as she had an answer they said their good byes, and Liz couldn't help closing her eyes in pain as she said, "Love you too". For a moment after the phone went dead she just sat there with her eyes closed, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

She didn't open her eyes until she heard Don clear his throat. Looking up slowly she wasn't surprised to be met with a confused and questioning frown. Sitting down in the chair closest to her, he asked, "So you're lying to your husband now, Liz?"

She sent him a guilty look before answering, her eyes on her hands, trying to be as honest as possible without actually telling him what was going on. "I don't really want to see him right now." She finally looked at him as she apologized, "I'm sorry for using you in my lie. I didn't know what to say and you were the first thing that popped into my head."

The frown was still on Ressler's face, but she saw that same indiscernible look cross his face again before he asked, "So I guess dinner at your place tonight then?" She saw a slight smile cross his face before she let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Laughing a real laugh for the first time that day, she simply nodded as she said, "I guess so, if you're willing to go." She tried to keep the pleading look off her face as she waited for his response. She didn't want to be alone with Tom, or whoever the hell he was, but knew that she couldn't just avoid him without raising his suspicion. At least this way she was there, but not alone.

She was pulled from her worried thoughts as Ressler simply replied with a, "Sounds like a plan then." His gentle smile put her at ease, making it so she could return it with a genuine smile of her own. She felt safe knowing that Don would be there. She knew she could trust him.

After sitting in a comfortable silence for a few minutes they both got up to finish getting ready. By the time they were in their own vehicles, pulling out from Ressler's apartment building, Liz found her heart a little light for the first time in what seemed like forever, even if in truth it had only been a few days.

THE BLACKLIST

As Ressler started driving toward the diner he was supposed to meet Red at he felt conflicted. A part of him was happy to have plans with Liz and to have been the first thing to pop into her head when she felt panicked, but another part was worried and angry at the happy part for not being worried as well. He wasn't stupid; he knew she was afraid to be alone with her husband, and that only made him ask himself if it was a founded fear beyond knowing he was a liar who forced himself into her life. He couldn't help but wonder if Tom had done something more to her to cause the fear.

He was only pulled from his thoughts when he pulled up to a small diner that was out of the way. There were only a few cars in the parking lot, so when he entered he wasn't surprised to find the place deserted. Red and Dembe, who were sitting apart, were the only costumers to be seen. The only others in the diner were two waitresses and a cook behind a window in the kitchen.

Red, ignoring the fact there was no one else there to distract him, waved his hand when he saw Ressler, raising his voice slightly to call, "Donald, over here my boy. Come sit down, have some breakfast." As Ressler sat, Red leaned forward conspiratorially as he added, "I recommend the waffles. The best in the states, I assure you."

For a moment Ressler let himself wonder if Red somehow knew that waffles were his favorite food, but quickly decided that, yes, of course he knew, he was Reddington. Turning his thoughts from food, Don decided to go for light conversation, as he now knew Red liked to start these meetings that way. So lightly, he asked, "Only in the states? Where are the best in the world?"

Red smiled broadly as he said, "Actually, surprisingly, I'd have to say Canada. There is this lovely little place nestled in the Rockies. I think it's because they make their own syrup."

Don nodded before turning to the waitress that had walked over to take their order. Giving her a slight smile he ordered waffles and a glass of milk. Red ordered the same only with orange juice. While they waited for their food, and even after it arrived, they continued with small talk; small talk that revolved quite a bit around Don, but he said nothing of it. He figured Red would get the information if he wanted it whether he told him or not, so it was probably best it came from him first hand.

It wasn't until Red was throwing cash onto the table that he started with why they were there. "I fear that Tom is becoming far too suspicious of Lizzy. If he figures out his cover is blown I fear what he might do."

Don was unsure how to respond. Unsure what he could do. Finally, he simply asked, "What do you need me to do?" Red was silent for a few moments, looking at Ressler with an intense stare.

Finally, Red leaned back in his booth, and simply said, "Continue to keep an eye on her, and until I can look into Tom's current behavior a little more, try to keep her at work, or at least away from home."

Nodding, Don told Red, "I'm supposed to have dinner with her and Tom tonight at their place, so I'll be able to keep an eye on her there." He thought for a moment before adding, "I can probably make it so I can stay on their couch tonight; just pretend to be drunk or something."

Squinting his eyes slightly, the way Don recognized Red did when he was analyzing something, he started to nod slowly. Finally he said, "That will have to do. I don't like the idea of her being around that man at all but I suppose it is a necessary evil if we wish not to raise suspicion."

Red then started to stand, and before Don knew what he was doing, he asked, "Why are you working so hard to protect her?"

Ressler was somewhat surprised when Reddington sent him a bemused smile as he said, "It's my job to protect her, and I hope one day Donald, you will be fortunate enough to know the job as well."

With that, Reddington swept out of the diner, Dembe close behind. Don was left with a confused frown on his face. He felt like he knew what Reddington meant by that, but a bigger part refused to believe it. His mind wouldn't let it go though. He couldn't help but recognize the protective glint in Red's eyes, a glint he had seen many times over when talking to families of victims that were left behind to deal with the tragedy. Hell, he'd seen it in the eyes of his own family since he became an agent. He just couldn't believe it was truly the same look.