Ohhh hello... What is this? TWO chapters in the same month? Why Yes... yes in is. I GIVE YOU THE MUMMY BUNNY! This Chapter is dedicated to A friend. She's been waiting for this chapter since chapter three... :D

Shout out to my WONDERFUL BETAS! Love you loads... And an even bigger shout out TO ALL MY READERS, REVIEWERS and FOLLOWERS... I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH I HURTS. And this is still a filler chapter so no Red/Lizzie action... though Red does go and gets him self all meddled up in Lizzie's Business...

PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!

China… Somewhere…

"You're having entirely too much fun with this situation," Red said, looking sideways at his friend feeling…sour. Dembe, on the other hand, was grinning widely.

"My brother… I must be honest. As much as these last few months of easy living have been invigorating, I have missed these spontaneous adventures of ours."

Noting the younger man's joviality amused Red slightly. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little resentful about his current situation. Things had, once again, escalated while they were on Rén's secluded property, but this time in between Bao-Zhi and Dao -the boy really did have a manner to him- Red was again at a loss about WHERE had the guns come from. They were in a thermal bath with nothing but their charming personalities… Looking sideways at his companion, he squinted… "Dembe wouldn't put us in actual danger just to have some, albeit questionable, fun…" His thoughts where interrupted when something wet hit his face. Looking up through the foliage confirmed his suspicions… it had started to rain. For the second time in two weeks Red had not only been in two shoot outs, but he had also found himself unclothed in some obscure corner right after it. It wasn't even a question of age. No... it was that he would much rather be naked in the rain with Lizzie. "Ohhh best not delve in to those ideas… Being excited in the middle of the Chinese wilderness isn't the best place for such things." Now… if instead of Dembe it were Lizzie…

Post Office Monday

Aram was sitting in front of his work station, patiently listening to Ressler's and Lizzie's bickering. It had been going on for an hour. He had a feeling that this argument would start up the minute Ressler decided to get Lizzie's cover story for the op.

"No… just no… It's not that I don't trust…. You know what I don't trust, Ressler? I don't trust you! I don't trust your common sense or tact… the last time… the ONLY time you were responsible for my cover I ended up drugged and up for AUCTION… Luckily Reddington "bought"… and I use the word luckily loosely… I already live with the bastard, why not owe him my safety and life… AGAIN?! "

Ressler looked at Lizzie, speechless. Breathing in, Lizzie made amends. "Look, I know it's not your fault. It's not like you could have known what would happen… I'm just… I went through two pshyc evals… Had to check in with the doc twice in the last two weeks AFTER being cleared for duty… Meera… And Reddington and then my husband that doesn't exist and, and… I'm just…"

"Exhausted…" was Aram's quiet reply. "We all just want to go home… to our houses… I miss my place," he continued sympathetically.

"Yea… I know we're all struggling," Ressler added evasively, looking away from them. Lizzie and Aram exchanged quick glances in between each other and then looked back to Ressler, who had failed to remake eye contact. "Strange… very strange…" Lizzie thought to herself… "I need to get Aram alone… there's something that doesn't add up…"

"You know what? I have an idea. Aram comes with us… Like Reddington would say: field trip. That way if we need to change anything there's no lag… and we can get individual rooms if we find a nice three star hotel. What do you say?" Lizzie asked.

"I say yes… I would love to," Aram happily answered. Ressler was looking a little unsure, but seemed to change his mind in an instant. "That's a great plan Keen… good thinking. Aram… hook us up. If you're coming with us you can finish the cover on the flight to Chicago, right?"

"Ye-yes… As long as the story is simple and plausible I can have everything we need done in three hours… the flight is a little over two and we still have another week or two depending on… Something female oriented, I guess… before everything needs to be set so… so yea…" Aram answered confidently.

"Female oriented?" asked Lizzie with a particularly sour look.

"I don't know. It's what she says. Sometimes she pushes back or pushes up the Gala date and claims it's female oriented stuff; this time she warned everyone that she has to push the Gala a week or two. I don't know…" was Aram's anxious response.

"Fine…" Ressler said with one nod. "Now what do we know about this Serbian guy and his girlfriend, Miss Desiree Montgomery?"

"Nothing much. He is one Vukasin Uzelac, born on September 30th, 1955, in Naissus. Russian mother and Serbian father. Olga Pavlov and Miljan Uzelac were both killed in a robbery...mother's older brother Matve Pavlov took him to Russia when he was three. At eighteen he joined the Russian Army and then at twenty-eight he joined the Spetsnaz, and after that...nothing. He uses a bank account in the Caman Islands with Miss Montgomery's name to get paid and needs a series of codes and passwords -voice activated- to get access to it. She's pretty low key… Born in Montana on October the 7th 1960… Dropped off the face of existence in 1977 and reappeared in Chicago January 15th, 2010. Other than the bank account that Uzelac uses with her name she only has the one PO Box, and is known to be the host of the First Companion's Club Annual Get Together. Very private...has a 75.00$ admission fee to get in. All proceeds go toward a fund destined to help spouses that were screwed over by their companions," Aram informed them readily.

"So it's like a first wive's club. Yea, sure... I'll fit in just fine," Lizzie remarked bitterly.

"I don't want to be an ass, but this has to be said. First off, you need to get some REALLY cheap seats and accommodations if we're going to use 75.00$ of tax payer's money to get into this thing, and second of all… Keen… do you even have something that fancy to wear?" Ressler added, flinching a bit.

Thinking for a bit, Lizzie mentally went through all of her clothes, then remembering that wedding she went to when Tom wasn't even in the picture, she nodded slowly. "Yea I do. Not Gala worthy, but its nice enough. I was one of the bridesmaids at a friend's wedding. Big deal of a wedding too… the dress cost my father 1500$. I was nearly broke at the time…"

"Good… so we don't have to worry about that. Hey… think we could charge the admission fee to Red?" Ressler asked with some humor.

"You know… that's the best idea I've heard in a long time," Lizzie answered with a mean smile. "It'll serve him right too… Asshole," she though mutinously.

Chicago Illinois Two weeks later

Donald Ressler looked around the Standard King at The Blake Hotel.

"And this is a three star hotel?" he asked Aram skeptically.

"Yep. And I got a deal too since there's three of us, it's the middle of the week, and we're only staying for two nights. I didn't even have to use our credentials. Which is good because of you know… what happened before…?" Aram answered with a cautious smile.

"And exactly how much is this going to cost the Bureau? All of this?" asked Lizzie cautiously. If their credentials weren't used the chances of a refund might be slim to none if the cost was too high… not to mention the 75.00$ they needed to use to get in.

"That's the beauty of it. I spent the whole night online Monday night, so I got really cheap seats on the plane…"

"Is that why we just spent the last two hours on a commercial airline in economy near the toilet?" asked Ressler, looking nonplussed.

"Yes… I was getting to that…" Aram answered, composed. "As I was saying, that's the beauty of all this. Our tickets cost 433$, rounded up, and that gave me the ability to spend a bit more on the rooms. But like I said, I got a deal. Nice isn't it? We each get our own room, two nights, 1260$. Sweet deal… even if we did get the short end because there were only two standards left so Lizzie gets the corner king," was Aram's content reply.

"Well in that case…get out of my room. We still have some time before the op," Ressler said, amused. Lizzie went to her room, shaking her head with a smile as Aram practically skipped to his.

Opening the travel bag, she took out two dresses. She still didn't know which one she was going to take. Both had bittersweet memories attached to them. The long, flowing, a-line, olive green chiffon dress with a loose V neck had been bought for her friend's wedding. She had made the brave choice to go alone and had been intimidated. The groomsmen's jabs had been made in fun, but the older women had been cruel. But still, she put on her bitch face and glided through the whole affair. It wasn't about her that day. It was about Marcy, but it had shaken her. She was afraid she wasn't normal, afraid she was broken. Still looking at the dress, she wondered if that was the moment Tom decided to move. Their first encounter had been random… too random... And she had fallen for it. Now she wondered if the reason she fell for everything was because she was so intent on proving she was normal and just like everyone else. She missed all the signs. Marcy, still in the post wedding glow, had said it had been fate. She laughed then… and was still laughing now, albeit with more bitterness. She had lost touch with Marcy. Now that she thought about it, really thought about it, she hadn't lost touch with her friends when she started working. It had begun shortly after her and Tom got together. Slowly, one at the time, Tom had alienated her from all her friends until her only friends where his. All of her friends had been Tom's friends… how didn't she see what he was doing?

The second dress was an act of rebellion… Four months before her life plunged in to chaos, she had caught Tom looking at a beautiful redhead dressed in a sexy little black dress. Looking at her top and jeans she felt shabby… She had jokingly said that if she wanted to, she could be a vixen too. Tom had laughed and called her silly. He had also kissed her and told her that she was perfect just like she was. Feeling stung and with a bruised ego, she had decided to teach him a lesson. Doing some creative accounting, she had managed to buy the black, knee length matte – satin and crepe tuxedo style dress with a slightly loose plunging neck line two days before Reddington had came in to her life. She never got the chance to wear it. She lost the reason why… no… she had never had the reason in the first place…

"I'll just try both out and see which one I feel more comfortable in," she thought to herself pragmatically.

She had just finished putting on the green dress when someone knocked at the door. Drawing her gun, she looked through the peephole and saw nothing. Going back to her phone, she quickly texted Ressler and awaited an answer.

At the door. At the count of three.

Reading the text, she positioned herself by the door, counted to three, and opened it, simultaneously pointing her gun at the passageway. Ressler was in the corridor, aiming his weapon at Lizzie's door. There was no one there. Looking up and down the corridor and stepping out of her room, she looked at her partner and shrugged.

"Nice dress, Keen," Ressler told her as he went back into his room.

Walking back in to hers, she looked at her reflection in the long mirror next to the door and couldn't help but agree. It was a nice dress. But…

"… you're a winter; not an autumn… Olive is not your color." His voice floated in to her mind. She closed her eyes and shivered. Seven weeks… seven long weeks of nothing. The last time he vanished it had only been five weeks and he had called before he disappeared. And they hadn't almost given in to whatever it was they had. "Maybe I'll just wear the black one instead." Eyeing the bathroom behind her, Lizzie smiled a bit. It had been a long time since she indulged in a relaxing bath. Not that she couldn't at the safe house. It was just she didn't feel at ease… alone… "I'll just relax for a bit and decide what to wear after."

His plans had been delayed. After that disastrous visit to China that had ended with Bao-Zhi shooting Dao point blank in the head, he was forced to deal with some other problems that had arisen in Moscow. He then was called to broker a deal in Koro Toro, Chad in central Africa, and finally to finish a ongoing deal started five years prior in Brownsweg, Suriname at the northern part of South America. He had found out that Lizzie was on her way to Chicago when he himself was halfway to D.C. Telling the pilot to change course, he sat back and thought about what he was going to do and say. As desperate as Red was to hold Lizzie in his arms, he was at a loss as how to do it. Lizzie wasn't just an itch that he wanted to scratch… Lizzie, his Lizzie, was something so much more. He needed to see her. Making sure he knew where she was going to stay, Red looked into one of his contacts to find out the floor and room she was in. He then ordered his on site team to place a small camera in front of her door, knock at it, and then leave. By the time he landed in Chicago he was in possession of the photographs the camera had taken. There she was… gun in hand and a scowl on her face… She was wearing a beautiful dress with a very pleasing neckline, but the color… "Lizzie…" he said fondly. "What did I tell you about the olive?" Grabbing his phone once more, Red called a dear friend of his and arranged for a special gift to be delivered to Lizzie. Whatever Aram had found on the Serbian and this mystery woman of his, it was no doubt the same or less than what Red knew right now.

Lizzie had just finished doing her hair and was still wondering about what to wear. Putting on the black dress, she looked at herself and still felt odd… "Maybe it's the hair…" she thought. She had pulled up her hair in to a messy bun. Putting on the green dress made her look a bit better, but… it was olive green. "Why the hell do I care what Red said…. It's a dress, this is an op, and he's not HERE! The hell with all of this…." She had been feeling angsty the past two weeks… She felt herself on the verge of tears in the most inappropriate hours and just felt like collapsing onto the floor and never get up again. She was afraid to analyze the why for all this. She didn't want to admit that the reason why she was feeling like this existed. Wiping away a stray tear, she jumped when the doorbell chimed. Grabbing her gun yet again, she went to the door and looked through the peep hole. On the other side stood a bellhop with a large box in his arms. He rang the doorbell once more.

"Delivery for a Miss Scott," was all the boy said.

"Who's it from?" she asked warily.

"From a Mr. Zumar, Miss," he answered. "Dembe?" Lizzie questioned herself outrageously. "How the fu… know what? Never mind, Liz… just never mind," she thought to herself while she cautiously opened the door and let the boy in. After depositing the box, the boy turned to Lizzie and said, "No need to worry about the tip, Miss. Mr. Zumar took care of it already."

"Thank you. Did Mr. Zumar deliver this package himself?" Lizzie asked politely.

"No, Miss. It came by a private delivery service," he answered and then promptly left.

Lizzie stared at the box for a while not knowing what to do. Should she call Ressler? Aram? Open it and see? If it came from Dembe it could only mean that it was from Red. Wanting to avoid uncomfortable questions, Lizzie decided to call her partner. But first, she carefully opened the box just in case there was a note or letter in there for her. There was. A note containing only one sentence.

I recall telling you once that you were a winter and not an autumn; maybe this will be better suited for tonight.

Smiling slightly, Lizzie hid the note and called Ressler.

"What is it Keen?" was Ressler's short reply.

"Red sent me a package," was her explanation. Lizzie stared at her phone. Ressler had hung up and was knocking at her door shortly after. When she opened it she saw Aram there as well. The three of them looked at the box until Aram said, "Aren't you going to open it? I mean we won't get anywhere by just looking at it."

Looking at both men, she breathed in deeply and opened the box properly only to find a box that looked like it contained shoes and a small square jewelry case. Both sat neatly next to a dress that was wrapped in high end tissue paper. What they saw in there nearly made her heart stop.

"I'm not even going to bother asking how that son of a bitch knew you were here…" Ressler said matter of factly.

"What, no suspicious questions or accusations flying my way?" Lizzie answered, acidic.

"Five weeks ago yea… but now… the way you've been acting if you knew where he was you'd have shot him by now… or told us so that we could shoot him…" Ressler gave as an honest yet bland response.

"Well…" Aram said gently. "It does look like a nice dress."

The dress was… beautiful. Slowly taking it out, Lizzie and the boys got a better look at the dress. It was a light grey with slight silver undertones, strapless with a sweetheart A-line in chiffon with a delicate ruche empire bust line. The intricate silver beaded and embroidered midriff with an asymmetrically dropped waistline only added to the whimsical look the dress had with its full bias-cut gathered skirt. It was indeed lovely. The tag attached to it also identified it as a Cameron Blake.

"It's definitely better than mine that is for sure," Lizzie answered breathlessly. Putting the dress carefully down on her bed, she then opened the shoe box.

"Should I be worried that Reddington seems to not only know my dress size but my shoe size as well?" Lizzie asked to no one in particular. She was surprised when Aram answered her.

"He knows everything about you so why not that too? It's not like he's never denied his stalking tendencies."

There was a moment of contemplative silence before Ressler broke it.

"Why are the shoes darker?" he asked, puzzled.

"So that they can be better noticed," Aram informed contently. This drew two curious gazes toward him. "What? I've dated…" he sampled while blushing.

"Kaayyyy… how do I even know they won't hurt me?" Lizzie inquired.

"Now that, I can answer. Put them on. I'll be right back," Ressler quipped, leaving the room. Lizzie did as she was told and then looked at her feet. The vintage styled, dark platinum charmeuse peep-toe pumps had an asymmetrical placed bow in crystal that complimented the dress perfectly, shaping her long legs quite nicely. She was still admiring the shoes when Ressler came back with a vial of hand cream.

"My dad taught me this when I was a kid. He learned it in the army. Walk around a bit and tell me where it stings." Ressler informed them, sitting on the floor.

Once more, Lizzie did what she was told and walked around the room a bit. Oddly enough… nothing hurt.

"Hummm… I can walk just fine in these. Which is strange because my shoes usually give me hell when they're new," Lizzie said, astonished.

"Really?! Let me take a look at them," was Ressler's surprised reply.

Getting a shoe, Ressler looked at it closely. "Well that answers that question. Red put hand cream all around the inside of the shoe...like I was going to. It's an old military trick I suppose," he said, giving Lizzie the shoe back. Noticing Lizzie's look, Ressler added, "No one is saying you should put the dress on. Throw it out the window if you want. What you have is fine… but for 75.00$ an entrance fee… maybe you should at least consider it, ok?"

"That is a nice dress… but that one's nicer," Aram pointed towards the bed. "Besides… you're a winter and winters don't look good in olive… that's more of an autumn thing," Aram concluded. This had both agents looking at him, but for different reasons entirely. "What? I've dated…" Aram said defensively.

"Who, a fashion consultant?" Ressler asked, wide-eyed.

"If you must know… Yes. She was a fashion consultant and a model," Aram said proudly.

Closing her eyes, Lizzie started laughing to herself. "Well… if I'm a winter then who am I to argue? Now if you'll all excuse me, I have to get dressed," Lizzie supplied while shooing both men out.

When they left she looked at the dress as she sat down next it. Taking it in to her hands, she noticed that the quality of the dress was quite similar to the one she was wearing. Looking back, she started to wonder if Sam had really paid for her dress with some saved up money like he had said, or if it had been just a cover for Red's money… Shaking her head in revolt, she quietly said to herself, "You know… I think I'm beginning to hate that man." For once, her pesky little voice had nothing to say.

Making her way to the fifth floor of the Warldof Astoria, Lizzie smiled as she remembered Ressler's reaction to Red's latest "gift". An invitation to the Gala was in the jewelry case that he sent her. That -more than the crystal and silver jewelry set- had her eye open wide. Grabbing her phone she dialed Ressler's number.

"Yes, Keen?" was his short reply.

"Guess someone up in heaven is watching you… Red sent me an invitation to the Gala," she said, amused.

"Hold on…Aram… did you get the invitation? … … Don't bother, Red sent one. Yea… I know…Damn it… I was really looking forward to billing Red for this… Hurry up, Keen, it's almost time." With that, he hung up. Lizzie finished her makeup, put on the jewels, grabbed everything she needed, and left.

While she walked to the ballroom she thought about her cover. April Philips. Miss Philips had been her guidance counselor. A sweet woman, but firm. She had been the one to first suggest she burn her nervous energy in a more productive way. After some thought she went back and said the she would like to do something that wasn't exactly what any one would expect from her. Lizzie had always been a tomboy. A byproduct of being raised in a single parent home where the parent was an ex military man. So when she approached Miss Philips and told her that she would love to dance, she had felt a bit self-conscious. The woman had smiled and told her that in an effort to keep her out of trouble, she had assigned Lizzie to study hall. She then winked and said she would be expecting her after school.

Forlorn, Lizzie had left and after school she went to the study hall. When she got there, she was surprised to say the least. Some other teens her age were there as well… in dancing gear. Miss Philips was a dance instructor in her spare time.

"Well Lizzie… you said you wanted to dance…" she said kindly. After that, Lizzie started attending study hall. She still got into trouble… but not as much as she used to.

Smiling at the memory, Lizzie reached the ballroom door. Before she entered, she felt watched. Turning around she found no one. Still on edge, she walked into the room.

Once inside, Lizzie took a moment to admire the beautiful décor of the Sinclair Ballroom. The high ceilings where adorned by magnificent crystal chandeliers. The walls had gracious moldings and silk wallpaper. She was so lost in the beauty of the room that she failed to notice someone approaching her from behind.

"It is lovely, isn't it?"

Startled, Lizzie turned in alarm. "Where do I know that voice from?" she thought to herself as she turned around quickly, only to stare at a six foot someone….

"Lizzie? Oh Sweetie, how have you been?" the voice gasped as she was enveloped in a strong hug. Looking up, it finally clicked.

Army Ranger MSG Master Sergeant Thomas Quinton Lloyd…

"Sergeant?" was Lizzie's incredulous reply.

"Shhhh…. It's Desiree Montgomery now…" said the six foot tall blond ebony WOMAN in front of her…

Yes... Well... it only get more... interesting from here on end... :D