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"I would argue that it's quite clear what you need to do." Reddington leaned back and appraised Liz with his usual sense of comfort and confidence that only a man that felt well-deserving of it could pull off.

Liz held up her hands, "Wait, so let me get this straight, in order for us to identify the next Blacklister, we need to find a person who is invited to and attends this special tea party that goes by the "The Marchioness" so we can identify which woman is the one that is smuggling blood diamonds and illegal workers between borders?"

"Not blood diamonds, stolen jewels of which include crown jewels from a few different countries and the illegal workers are women and children laborers forced into the sex industry or act as pack mules for cartels. And that is just the beginning of the foundations in which she build her own empire." Reddington tilted his head, "Lizzie, you asked for a Blacklister and here, I gave you one."

Liz pursed her lips and in wry smile and nodded her head slowly, "You're going to steal from her, she accused.

"No," Reddington shook his head, "I have no interest in her blood money. It seems that a few deals have fallen awry recently and it is causing problems and concerns for some of us out there." Liz just raised her eyebrows but Reddington continued, "either you take this Blacklister or don't. But as I told Harold Cooper, I can't just magically pull these criminals out of a hat."

"Fine." Liz stood, slinging her purse back onto her shoulder, "I'll talk to Cooper."

"Good, and give Agent Ressler a warm hello for me," Reddington added, standing up with her. Liz threw him a confused look before turning and saying goodbye to Dembe.

...

"How do we even know that this Blacklister will be at this tea party anyway?" Ressler stood between Aram and Liz, looking between them as they presented their findings, "I mean, other than the fact that Reddington says so?"

"So we've identified five women who consistently attend this afternoon tea, which is actually quite different than high tea, but people seem to get the two confused all the time-,"

"Aram," Cooper reminded gently and the technician cleared his throat before getting back on track.

"Right, so we know that they are regular attendees at the exclusive tea and they have been photographed on many occasions going to the tea together. It's like some sort of special retreat for the wives of powerful men. They're all socialites, so they would never miss an opportunity to brag about their invitation to the tea, it's like a status marker in their community. However, there is no trace of which house this tea is held at, once they enter the ultra-private neighborhood, none of the media cars are able to follow and the address is only known through word of mouth. Actually, I doubt the ladies even know how to get there. My bet is that only the drivers that come and pick them up know how to get there."

"So how do we get in?" Samar squinted up at the satellite image Aram just pulled up and sure enough, the neighborhood was covered in acres of trees, well-groomed lawns and stone gateways with the occasional small lake or pond, "Aram, is there any way you could clear up the image or zoom in?"

Aram gave a quick laugh, "That's the thing, this is the closest and the clearest we can get. Someone in the neighborhood must have paid big money to keep the satellite from taking clear images."

Ressler raised his eyebrows, "I didn't think you could do that,"

"Well, legally, you can't, but anything's possible for the right price." Aram commented offhandedly and Liz smiled at Aram and he caught himself.

"It's the perfect place for a criminal that wants to enjoy a life of luxury." Samar noted.

"Well, I highly doubt this Blacklister would invite all these women into her house like that." Liz pointed out.

"They could all be in on it," Ressler suggested.

Cooper finally spoke up, "With all these public figures involved? No, nothing damages the public image more than a nasty scandal with the law. It would be too hard to hide for this long. Dig in, see if any of these women do have something to tell, that could be our way in." And with that, Cooper dismissed them.

Liz caught up quickly with Ressler as he made a beeline for their office, "Hey Ressler, can we talk?"

"Yeah, what's up, Keen?" He glanced up from his desk as Liz shut the door quietly behind her. She walked slowly away from the door, "Is there something going on between you and Reddington?"

"What?" Ressler turned his full body and attention to her, the file that was in his hand landing with a loud slap on his desk, "what makes you say that?"

Liz looked him square in the eye, "When I left, he told me to tell you 'hello' from him. Is there something going on?"

"Look even if I was, and I'm not saying that I am, it would be none of Reddington's business." He sat down in his chair, pulling closer to his desk as he opened the file, a clearly signaling that the conversation was over.

But Liz was unrelenting. The last time Reddington seemed to offer greetings to Ressler through Liz was when Ressler was addicted to his pills. So she stepped closer to him, her fingertips resting on the top of his desk, "Ressler, are you in trouble?"

"Keen, I'm fine." He reassured her, countering her sever tone with his lighter one, "He's probably just trying to gain some sort of leverage on me so I can be in his debt. Or," A smile graced Ressler's lips as he regarded his partner, "He's siccing you on me because just for the sake of a laugh over my utter discomfort." Ressler held her gaze until she backed down, acknowledging his humor with a small smile. Liz walked over to her desk and sat down, grabbing a pen from the cup on the desk, aware of her partner's eyes following her. She kept her own eyes focused on his desk in front of her.

She hesitated before saying, "I just need to know that you have my back." Because the last time Ressler was having these personal problems, it had almost gotten her killed in Warsaw and him in Sitka and she was damned if they were going to go out like that due to a couple of miniscule pills after everything else they had survived. But most of all, she just wanted Ressler to be okay, to not be that broken man sitting at the back of an ambulance. To be able to depend on her rather than those white pills.

"Keen. Liz." He waited until she met his eyes. His expression was hard but his eyes were soft, "I will always have your back." He promised her firmly.

...

She remembered the first time he had come to her after he had quit cold turkey after Sitka. Liz could help herself, she smirked as she unlocked her motel room door, tucking her gun into the back of her waistband. "So much for kicking it yourself, huh?"

He smirked back, his muscular form filling the door frame, "Shut up. Hey, just don't you try any of that hypnosis stuff on me, yeah?"

"What kind of a psychology nut do you take me to be? Is that a pizza?"

Ressler shoved the box in her direct, "Consider it a housewarming gift."

"Hey,"

He just shrugged, "So we're both messed up. Who can blame us?" He said darkly but she chose to ignore him.

"Drink?" She put the pizza on the small table and reached into the dresser.

Ressler raised an eyebrow at her, "Tryna turn me into an alcoholic?"

"Right." She grabbed two water bottles instead and tossed one to him, gesturing to the bed, "Sit."

He sank onto the creaky mattress and Hudson, whom he had been petting, jumped on after him, "Jesus, Keen. How long are you planning on staying in this shithole? Hey, bring the pizza too."

Liz handed him the box and climbed onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard. Ressler moved back until he was sitting next to her. And as amusing as it was to see Ressler scooting backwards on a bed with a pizza box in one hand, she was more amused to see that the pizza had mushrooms on it, a topping she knew Ressler would never ask for unless she requested it.

Ressler gazed up at her ceiling and shook his head, "Keen, if I didn't know better, then I'd say you've gone off your rocker." Liz watched as his eyes traced back and forth between all the documents and pictures, the same her hers had done hundreds of times before.

"I thought we were here to talk about you," She said pointedly, pushing Hudson away from the box on Ressler's lap.

"Hey," He pointed a fresh slice of pizza at her, "I never said that."

They chatted about nothing in particular until the pizza was gone and their bottles of water were drained, content on just having another person next to them to distract them from the bleakness of their surroundings, someone else to watch their back for a night. At one point, Liz found herself slumped against the bed, with Hudson's head resting on her thigh and her own resting against Ressler's broad shoulder. She looked sleepily at the flashing TV, then down at her hand, where Ressler's fingers rested on top and the slight movement of her head made her realize that it was his cheek that was pressed against the top of her head. Judging by the rise and fall of his chest, he was still awake. Liz smiled sleepily before dozing off again. Just for that night, she would indulge in this stolen moment.

...

"Hey," Samar knocked on the door frame to their office, "I found a lead." Liz looked up, relieved and shoved aside the files on her desk to stand and follow Ressler out of their office.

"Daniela Boyle, married to George Boyle, a venture capitalist among other things," Aram announced, pulling up their files on the big screen, "She's your way in. Mrs. Boyle is the chairwoman of this…club, which organizes various charity galas, luncheons; she knows everyone in the game. She's the gatekeeper, the shepherdess, the Jackie Kennedy of the socialites and other public figures. If you get in good with her, you'll earn yourself an automatic ticket into their community."

"Do her and her husband have any sort of track record?" Ressler asked, accepting the file from Samar as she passed it to him.

"Nothing solid. His company's being watched by the SEC but no formal action was every taken and they haven't gone as far as to flag him or his company. Their personal financials and those of the charities have checked out so far, nothing questionable enough to draw any real attention. Nothing out of the ordinary in the press, either. I have yet to find a scandal or accusation."

Liz gazed at their profiles on the screen, "They both come from money, we've got to assume that if anything ever did go sideways in their lives, their lawyers and any press advisors from their families would have made sure to cover it up." Liz pointed up at the candid shots of Daniela at various functions, "Daniela, she seems like a queen bee. She would demand the utmost loyalty from her followers. Anyone who questioned her… they would be shunned, cut off from the rest of the group."

Ressler threw her an amused glance, "Kinda like Reddington, huh?" Liz shared a small smile with him before turning back to Aram.

"Married for three years now and still no kids? Is there any possibility of affairs?" She wondered aloud. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Quickly excusing herself, she answered a few feet away, "Keen."

"Lizzie. How are you doing with the case?" Reddington asked pleasantly.

"We've found a possible in. Daniela Boyle. She's married to a venture capitalist name George Boyle. It's going to be difficult, if they really are dirty, they've gone through a lot of pains to make sure they look absolutely clean." She reported, watching the discussion from afar.

"Those names don't ring any bells. But if you are going to do something, you have to move quickly. The word on the street is that the tea is going to take place in the next week or so. Good luck, Lizzie."

Liz sighed and walked back, "Bad news, Reddington said the time frame to capture this Marchioness is closing quickly. The tea is supposed to occur sometime this week, and if we don't find her by then, she'll be gone until who knows when."

"Great, and I don't supposed Reddington can give us a specific day?" Ressler asked scornfully, but Liz knew he already had his answer to that question.

"We've got no useful leads. At least, nothing we can run down within the time span of a week." Samar reasoned.

"We go undercover." Liz said firmly as realization dawned on her. "That way, we can go in, talk to Daniela and the others without arousing suspicion by dragging them in and questioning them."

...

"Undercover?" Cooper removed his glasses and fixed Liz with his familiar steady gaze.

"Yes sir, it's the best shot we have at the moment. Reddington says that after the tea, thereis no telling where The Marchioness will disappear to and what deals she will have made by then." Liz told him, returning his steady gaze to show her certainty. "I can go in as an aspiring socialite, an admirer of Daniela, looking for a mentor." She folded her hands in her lap.

"And you?" Cooper nodded at Ressler who was leaning against the wall of Cooper's office with his arms folded.

"Her fiancée." Ressler responded without missing a beat. Cooper looked back at Liz and she could barely contain her excitement. The Assistant Director sat back in his chair, appraising his two agents.

"It's a tight timeline."

"Yes sir, we know. Aram's already found a location and an opportunity." Liz said earnestly.

"There isn't a lot of time for you to establish your covers."

"I'm sure we can manage, sir." Ressler said and Liz could her the smirk in his voice.

...

"I didn't know there was such a thing as 'Saturday Afternoon Drinks'." Liz mused as she fingered the stem of her wine glass.

"Sure there is. It's called College Football and beer." Ressler replied easily. The two agents were seated in what was the Boyle's favorite drinks spot which they frequented on Saturdays. Both Liz and Ressler were dressed for their parts, Liz in a soft blue wrap dress with matching teetering heels with her partner across from her, scotch in hand with a navy suit jacket, a pressed white shirt casually undone at the top and khakis. His eyes focused on the top of Liz's head, "And remind me again, what in name of hell is that?"

Liz stopped herself from instinctively reaching up to touch the small matching hat ensemble, "It's a hat," She hissed, "Reddington insisted it would add a sense of dignity and class. The British all wear them at formal outings."

Ressler frowned, looking away as he took a sip, "It looks ridiculous." He declared.

Liz glared at him, "look around you, over half the women here are wearing them. And Aram said he liked it."

"Aram doesn't know what he's talking about."

But Liz smiled, remembering how when they climbed into the surveillance van, Aram had commented how good they had looked and noted that they would fit in well with the other couples on the patio and how the tips of Ressler's ears had turned pink.

"Hey, heads up, here they come." Ressler leaned in closer to Liz at their small round table and smiled at her. Liz angled her head towards him in a more intimate angle. Liz had made sure that they were given the table that Aram insisted was the Boyles' favorite. Sure enough, as Liz was taking a sip from her wine glass (still smiling sweetly at Ressler) there was the delicate sound of a throat clearing. Turning around, Liz noticed that the overall atmosphere on the patio had stiffened slightly, the other patrons on the patio seemed to have pulled themselves up at attention and some were eyeing Liz and Ressler's table discreetly.

Liz set down her glass and looked up, "Oh, I'm sorry, is this your usual table? No wonder the hostess was so reluctant when I requested it." Then she gasped, "Oh my goodness, I'm sorry, but are you Daniela Boyle?"

The woman standing before her lifted her eyebrows delicately, "I am. I'm sorry, have we met?"

Liz pressed a hand to her chest and rose to her feet, "I'm so sorry, my name is Liz. Liz Milhoan, this is my fiancé, Don." Ressler stood to shake their hands, "I've heard so much about you! I'm a huge admirer of your work with the children's hospital and your charity galas you organize… $5 million just at the pre-reception? Amazing. I'm an event planner myself."

"And what line of work are you in, Don?" George asked, patting his wife hand that was wrapped around her husband's arm soothingly, but Liz didn't see it as a sign of comfort, rather, an indication. But to what?

"Shipping." Ressler replied smoothly, pulling out a business card from his breast pocket and pressing it into George's free hand in one fluid motion. Donald Ressler looks, feels and smells like a cop, Reddington had once said, but watching her partner, Liz had to admit that he was doing quite well so far. Just enough suave and shiftiness to fit in.

"Shipping?" Daniela repeated dubiously and Liz watched as her eyes traveled down to Liz's hand and caught on the big diamond on her finger.

Liz placed the same hand on Ressler's forearm and Daniela's eyes followed the stone the whole way. "Don specializes in brokering deals and preparing documentation. He's got an eye for all that legal nonsense." Liz told them sweetly, not missing the swift look Daniela shot her husband.

"So you must be new to town? I haven't seen you around." Daniela noted pleasantly.

Liz slid her hand off Ressler's arm but before she could pull away completely, his fingers caught onto hers and he linked them loosely, "We moved here just one and a half weeks ago." Ressler answered, his thumb tracing lightly over the back of her hand and Liz felt a slight flutter in her belly.

"Yes, and let me tell you, it's been awfully hard to make new friends here." She said conspiratorially to Daniela, giving Ressler's fingers a light but noticeable squeeze.

Daniela and George exchanged looks, "We're having a party at our estate tomorrow evening." George started.

"You must come." Daniela insisted and Liz looked over at Ressler. He stared back into her eyes for a second before nodding and Liz beamed back at the couple.

"We'll be there." Liz promised.

"Come on, sweetie. We better get going and let Daniela and George have their table back." Ressler placed his hands on the small of her back, gesturing to one of the waitstaff with his other hand. Liz pulled a business card of out her clutch and handed it to Daniela, "Give me a call. It was a pleasure to meet you both."

Ressler's light hand on her back guided her out of the establishment and onto the sidewalk. Liz leaned in closer to Ressler as they walked so she could speak quietly to him, "Did you see the way they looked at each other when you mentioned you were in shipping? Good move, Ressler." She looked up to see him looking down at her with smug smile.

"I got the idea from Reddingon. Seems to be the 'in' thing these days. It's one thing if you can obtain contraband, it's another to be able to move it to where you want it to go." He increased the pressure of his hand on her back, urging her to cross the street to the flower delivery van parked at the door. Once they reached the van, the doors swung open and Aram helped Liz up, Ressler following close behind.

"That seemed to go well." Samar noted as she climbed into the driver seat.

"We've secured an invitation to a party of the Boyles' for tomorrow night." Liz told them, "Aram, will you look into any kind of shipping activity the Boyles might be engaging in, for business or personal purposes? Maybe from her charities or his clients."

"So you're going to their party tomorrow? You think the Marchioness might be there?" Samar asked, as she started the van. Aram finished packing up his equipment and moved to the makeshift seats on the side of the van.

"Maybe. It would at least allow us to see if there's anything linked to the Marchioness' dealings and the Boyles. Who knows, maybe Daniela Boyle is The Marchioness. Either way, I think we've secured our covers as Don and Liz, a loving couple on their way to earn a fortune one way or another." Ressler told them, leaning over to help Liz buckle up. Liz watched him, wondering if he was still caught up in their cover and she looked up to see Aram's slightly surprised, mostly bemused look and she turned quickly back to Ressler to see he reaction but he only had eyes for her.

"Keen, would you please take that stupid hat off now?"

...

Liz drank in the sight of the elaborate manor, bathed in numerous lights along the stone paved drive and the small garden lights pointing up at it, like little spotlights. There were only a few cars parked along the drive, the rest of the drivers waited on the outside of the gates. Ressler parked the car in the cal de sac, but before he could walk around to Liz's side, a handsomely dressed man opened her door and offered his arm.

"Ms. Milhoan? Mrs. Boyle is waiting for you inside." He handed Liz off to Ressler to ascend the steps to the front door, where another man was waiting to open the doors for them.

Oh my god. Liz mouthed to Ressler and he lifted his eyebrows in response, mirroring her own impressed look. They took one step and inside and they were suddenly in the most elaborate party they had ever seen. Floor length gowns, glittering gems, shiny shoes and crisp bow ties surrounded them and Liz was beyond relieved that Reddington had insisted on dressing them. While her and Ressler's wardrobes contained dress appropriate enough for embassy parties and state dinners, they were nothing as ostentatious as what the scene in front of the held. Liz unconsciously inched closer to Ressler to avoid a waiter bobbing past with a tray of intricate looking hors d'oeuvres that looked like it was assembled with a pair of needle tweezers. Ressler tugged her closer as they ventured a couple more steps into the party so she could feel his body heat through her burgundy gown and his cologne enveloped her, his scent luring her into a sense of security.

"Hey," Ressler leaned his face toward her and although his voice was soothing, Liz felt her head speed up as his breath brushed across her cheek, "It's alright," He spoke in her ear, "Just focus on placing the bugs and finding Daniela." His lips landed on her cheek and she leaned into it for a second. To anyone else, they appeared to be a couple just sharing an intimate moment in the midst of a party.

Ressler quickly pulled away, grabbing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, he handed one to Liz and clinked his glass against hers, "Ready?" He asked.

Liz nodded, taking a small sip. Ressler's hand found its new familiar position on her back and they made their way deeper into the party. A few heads turned to scrutinize the new couple, but Liz was confident that for the most part, no one seemed to know exactly who everyone else was.

"Liz! Don!" Daniela came down the large staircase in the foyer, and the sea of people seemed to part in front of her as she made her way towards the undercover agents. It was probably a good thing since her gown seemed to contain layers upon layers of tulle, embedded with Swarovski crystals and satin, creating a wide skirt.

"Daniela, thank you for inviting us! Your home is gorgeous." Liz gushed, pulling away from Ressler to throw her arms open when Daniela got close enough to embrace. "I've been telling Donnie that we should build a home like this after we get married." Liz fell back into Ressler's arms, placing her ring hand on Ressler's chest, showing off the diamond bracelet that Reddington had loaned her for the night. Just as expected, Daniela's eyes sought out Liz's jewelry, subtly scrutinizing, determining their worth, and therefore, Liz's worth.

"Come to the kitchen, I'll give you my contractor's name and there are some ladies that I'd like you to meet. We're very eager to have you join us for our gala planning, I hope you don't mind, I showed some of the ladies your work in the news and they are very impressed." Daniela told her and Liz made a mental note to thank Aram for his beautifully planted articles. "George and his men are all upstairs in the study, second door to the left. You can't miss it, just follow the smell of scotch and cigars." Daniela told Ressler with a little fluttering motion of her hand. Ressler grinned knowingly, expertly placing his champagne on the tray of a passing waiter and Daniela beamed back before turning around in the direction of the kitchen. Liz made a moved to follower her but Ressler seemed to have other plans. His fingers grasped her elbow and he pulled her flush against his chest, planting his lips squarely on hers, his hand snaking around her lace-covered waist while her free hand came to rest on his bicep. Daniela turned around in time to see Ressler pull away from their lingering kiss and Liz swipe her thumb across his lips, affectionately wiping away any traces of lipstick. Liz's head reeled from that unexpected (and unexpectedly good) kiss as she stepped away from her partner, a little unsteady in her heels.

"I'll be upstairs if you need me, darling." Ressler told her in his deep and calm voice and damn it, how was that man so unaffected by the fact he just kissed me like that in a crowded room. Ressler must be much better at this undercover thing than he let on. Ressler gave Daniela a small smile before excusing himself and disappearing into the crowd.

"Well, just look at how sweet you lovebirds are. You'll have to tell me all about your wedding plans." Daniela cooed before traipsing into the dining room, Liz hurrying behind, trying to get rid of the faint blush on her cheeks. She deposited her glass on an empty tray by the kitchen and when she walked into the kitchen behind Daniela, she was glad that she had done so. The atmosphere in the kitchen was drastically different than that of the party. With the waitstaff's staging area in the back half of the kitchen, the front half with the island counter was taken up by a handful of women, some sitting but most standing. While the rest of the house was alive to the sound of soft jazz and the clink of expensive glasses and tinkling laughter, the crowd a melting pot of prominent figures schmoozing each other, the air in the kitchen was much calmer, more restrained, not a single glass of champagne or wine in sight. The singular item on the counter was a tablet in front of a woman sitting near the middle and she locked the screen once Liz stepped into the room. The rest of the ladies held themselves in such a poised manner, bordering professional, and while they all seemed to know one another, none of them seemed to be 100% at ease, a stark contrast to the boozy behavior of the outside guests.

"Ladies, this is Liz Milhoan. She's the event planner I was telling you about." Daniela nudged Liz forward and a couple of the younger women came forward to introduce themselves, pulling Liz closer to the group. Daniela took her own place at the end of the counter, at the head of the table.

"My, what a beautiful bracelet! And that ring." Liz's hand was lifted for all to see and the diamond sparkled under the counter lights. Liz couldn't help but notice the way some of the women's eyes gleamed hungrily as they appraised her get-up.

"Your fiancée must have quite the job to be able to spoil you like this. Is he a venture capitalist like George? Oh, don't tell me- he's a plastic surgeon. Lord knows we could use another one of those around here." The woman that had introduced herself as Louise smiled loftily at the ladies around the counter who laughed lightly at the inside joke.

Liz smiled graciously, "Actually, Don's in the shipping business."

"Shipping?" The woman with the tablet spoke up, "I never knew shipping could be so lucrative."

"Jill." Daniela reprimanded with a sharp look at the women, before turning to Liz with a softer look on her face, "My younger sister." She explained almost apologetically.

Liz waved her hand, "Oh, no. It's okay. Let's just say that Don has a knack for finding certain…untapped markets and he's very good at arranging successful partnerships with a diverse group of clients." Liz said slowly and she saw a few lips twist up into knowing smiles.

They continued to drill Liz with questions about herself, where she had been educated, where Don had worked previously, the kind of cut Liz was planning to wear for her wedding. Once the women seemed satisfied, Liz could sense their anticipation to carry on with whatever they were discussion earlier so she excused herself, asking the direction for the restroom to freshen her lipstick. On her way out, she dug her lipstick out of her clutch and sent it skidding across the floor. The ladies had lost interest in her, but nevertheless, Liz used her body to hide her hand as she fastened a bug to the bottom of a shelf holding a pretty vase. Weaving through the crowds, she made her way up the staircase, following the smell of cigars, into George's study. She let an easy smile grace her lips as she sauntered deeper into the large study/library, feeling the intrigued eyes of the eligible gentlemen on her.

She spotted Ressler standing behind a stately desk with George, her partner holding up his hand to the offered cigar, "No thanks, I knew a good man who died of lung cancer." Finally, Ressler turned to see Liz headed his way and a broad smile broke across his face, "Hi sweetie, what are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you were getting along with the boys." Liz told him, sidling between him and the desk, smoothing his lapel with one hand, bracing herself against the desk with her other. Ressler leaned in and pecked her on the cheek.

"I already placed one." He breathed before straightening up again and Liz closed her fingers to her palm, brushing them back into the folds of her skirt.

"So have you picked a date?" George asked, smiling as he looked between the two of them.

Ressler's arm circled around her waist again and she leaned in, catching a strong whiff of scotch on his breath, "Oh, we're just looking for the perfect venue now." Ressler told George, and Liz smiled at George, plucking the glass from Ressler's hand and setting it down on the desk. Ressler gave her a very displeased …Ressler look for taking his drink.

Yeah, I really should know better than to get between Ressler and a good drink.

"Don, honey, I told you there are some details that we still need to discuss before we come to a decision together." Liz said innocently, staring hard into his blue eyes.

"Okay, Lizzie," He conceded, "The things I do for this one," He said in a low voice to George and Liz couldn't suppress her eye roll.

Eventually, the guests trickled out while George was giving Liz and Ressler a tour of the house. When almost everyone had left, and the live band had finished loading their truck, Liz found Daniela in the kitchen, directing the waitstaff as they packed up their supplies in the kitchen. She waited until the last couple had said their goodbyes and exited before going up to the hostess.

"Daniela, can I help?" Liz gestured to the tiers of the picked-through delicacies that they hostess was busy clearing off.

"Oh, Liz! You're still here. I'm glad you stayed, we never really got a chance to chat. Please, I would appreciate your help. If you could finish clearing off these plates, I'll start putting some of the china away."

Liz busied herself with the plates, her back to Daniela, "I hope you don't mind me saying, but you throw one hell of a party."

"Thank you, but really, It's just years of experience. Where's Don? I expect he' still upstairs with George?" Daniela asked over the steady clink of china as she loaded the plates and glasses into the large glass door cabinet.

"Oh, I think George is showing him his collection of something or the other. The wine cellar, maybe? I lost track." Liz and Daniela shared a knowing laugh.

"Men," Daniela murmured but it was so quiet that Liz barely caught it. "You know," She said louder, "the ladies really loved you. In fact, they kept asking about you after you went upstair-"

Suddenly, the rhythmic clinking of china stopped and was replaced by the sharp sound of shattering glass, followed by the echoing clang, like a metal tray was being knocked to the floor.

"Daniela, are you- ugh," Liz turned around but before she could see what was happening, a flat and shiny object came hurtling at her face, and then there was nothing.

"Liz! Liz are you okay? Come on, let's get you up. Liz." She opened her eyes to see Ressler's face in front of hers, his blue eyes screwed up in concern. "Are you okay? Can you stand?"

"Daniela," Liz shook her head, trying to get rid of the ringing in her ears but she stopped quickly, feeling the pounding in her head worsen at the movement. "Help me up," she gasped, clutching at Ressler's arms.

"Careful, you're covered in glass. What happened? Where's Daniela?" Ressler gripped her shoulders and pulled her up, shaking her skirt to get rid of the shards of glass from a broken plate.

"It sounded like there was a struggle," Liz told him, grasping onto his lapels as she straightened up, shaky in her stilettos. "Where's George?"

"I don't know, he went to go check something in his study and when I heard glass breaking, I went in there but he was gone. Then I came downstairs and that's when I saw you lying there. The whole house is empty, Liz." Ressler told her has he helped her stumble into the dining room.

"We need to get out of here. Something's not right." Liz told him, "Did you call it in?" she asked as they reached the foyer.

Ressler shook his head, "I wasn't sure what was going on. I didn't want to blow our cover-," They reached the front doors and he flung them open but then paused, letting go of Liz. He took a step forward as Liz reached over to clutch at the door jamb, both analyzing the scene in front of them. Both men that had been stationed at the door were now sprawled across the steps to the house, unconscious. One man had a small pool of blood under his head, the other's arm was flung out in an unnatural angle. Ressler descended the steps quickly, crouching down to check them.

"They're alive." He reached into his pocket, quickly pulling out his phone and pressing his speed dial before pressing it to his ear. He walked back up the steps and reached out to Liz while she kept her eyes fixed into the darkness, watchful. "Liz, come on, we gotta get into the car- we're unarmed out here." But a faint crunching sound in the darkness drew her attention.

"Ressler, look." Farther up the deserted drive, Liz saw a shape moving, the path in front of it illuminated.

"It's a truck." Ressler squinted out into the darkness as he steered Liz in the direction of their car, his hand hovering at her back in case she stumbled. They reached the car, Ressler instantly starting it as Liz leaned forward, pulling out the false front of her foot rest to reveal a small bag containing their guns, badges and two flashlights. She pulled her phone out of her clutch before throwing it in the backseat of their sedan. Ressler sped down the drive and Liz cursed herself for not bringing a change of clothes, or at least, a change of shoes.

"Aram, it's me. Listen, I think the Boyles have been kidnapped. Ressler and I are in pursuit of a black van, heading south out of the neighborhood, I can't get a good look at the plates, they seem to be covered in dirt-," Liz was cut off as Ressler took a sharp turn down the winding path of the neighborhood and Liz had to scramble to brace herself against her door. Ressler threw a quick apologetic look and a mumbled "sorry."

"-I need you to send a forensic team to the Boyle's house, and an ambulance. Their security is unconscious but alive on their doorstep." They had pulled onto the empty county road now and the van was still a considerable distance ahead of them. "We're still headed south towards the city on the county road- Ressler!" Liz screamed. She saw the two figures on the side of the road before the van did and with a terrible thud and resounding crunch, the vehicle was brought to a halt. Ressler swerved onto the shoulder to avoid crashing into the back of the truck.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Aram asked anxiously.

"They hit a deer. Aram, send PD to our location. I gotta go." Liz hung up and handed Ressler the combination of gun, badge and flashlight. She nodded to her partner and they stepped out of the car, guns raised. In the distance, the faint wail of sirens grew closer.

"FBI! Stick your hands out of the window, slowly!" Ressler shouted as he approached the vehicle from the driver's side, with Liz on the passenger side. Liz grimaced at the sight of the deer splayed across the hood of the van, jutting into the cracked windshield. Both men in the truck were passed out, covered in blood, likely both theirs and the deer's, the driver dressed in all black and the passenger in the same attire that all the waiters at the party sported. The airbags had deployed and glass was scattered around.

"Trunk," Ressler ordered and Liz nodded, circling back. She grasped the handle of one of the doors while Ressler got in position. With another nod from her partner, she swung open the door.

"What the…" Ressler muttered under his breath and Liz came around, her gun raised but she lowered it as she saw the figure of George Boyle cowering in the corner of an otherwise empty van. Her eyes travelled over his figure, completely unscathed, no restraints, blinking against the glare of their flashlights. Liz exchanged a look with Ressler as the flashing sirens illuminated their silhouettes.

...

"George, your wife is missing, do you hear me? Daniela was taken and you need to tell us what you know so we can find her." Liz urged the tuxedo-ed man sitting across the table from her.

"I already told you- I don't know anything! I'm the victim. I was kidnapped too!" Boyle insisted and Liz sighed, shaking her head.

"Listen to me, pal. Your wife was taken in a struggle and here there is no sign of a single scratch on your body. We found you in the back of a van with no restraints, do you really expect us to believe that you weren't involved? The drivers of that van will be waking up any minute now and I'm gonna bet that they'll be more helpful than you. Ressler pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and slowly approached Boyle as he spoke. Ressler and Liz had both changed into more casual clothes once they got back to the Post Office, leaving Boyle to stew nervously in the interrogation room. Liz watched with faint amusement as Ressler came up behind Boyle and rested one hand on the back of his chair, the other in the table in front of the man. It was the classic fight for dominance, and while Ressler emanated strength and authority from his gray tshirt-clad form, the once confident George Boyle shrunk in his tuxedo like a high school boy on his prom night.

"Enough." Liz stood, "If you're complicit, we'll find out soon enough. Just remember, George." Liz said sweetly, waiting until the man looked up and met her eyes, "you don't talk, then you don't get a deal. I hear they like pretty rich boys in prison." She said quietly before turning and stalking out of the room. Ressler hovered over Boyle for a few more moments before leaving the room, but not before he threw one last glowering look at him.

"Stop." Liz chided as her partner matched her step back towards the war room, "you're going to make him wet his pants."

"Good." Ressler gave a low chuckle.

Liz frowned, deep in though as they reached the end of the hallway, "I genuinely don't believe that he knows where Daniela is being held. He doesn't seem the type to betray his wife so completely. He may have been involved in some extent, but judging by how confused he is, Boyle doesn't know any real details."

Ressler threw her a look, but she ignored him, not wanting to get into the personals of her own experiences. "Well, he isn't particularly bright, I can tell you that." He told Liz, rapping his knuckles on Aram's workstation to announce their arrival.

Samar hung up the phone and walked over, "Both of the men in the truck are still unconscious. The driver is still in surgery and the passenger suffered a lot of trauma to his head."

"Okay and how about the house? Any sign of the rest of the waitstaff?" Liz asked Aram, but he shook his head.

"Nothing. The property cameras were all taken out before it happened and there is no sign of the waitstaff at all. Did you guys get anything good at the party?"

"The wives," Liz spoke slowly, thinking through it again, "they were planning or discussing something before I walked into the kitchen with Daniela. Jill, Daniela's sister, she had a tablet in her hands." Liz remembered.

"None of the men talked business like that upstairs." Ressler noted, frowning.

"Because it's all the wives. They're all dirty, working for the Marchioness." Liz walked to the other side of Aram's workstation and began shuffling through the files.

"You don't think the husbands are in on it?" Samar asked, watching her dig through the papers.

"No. And I don't think the Marchioness had her kidnapped because of what they were doing. I think this could be much more personal than that." Liz finally found the file she was looking for, and walked back to Ressler, "That would be too much exposure, especially on a night like this." She shoved the file into Ressler's hands, "Here. Daniela mentioned to me earlier that she had a great-aunt that passed and Daniela inherited some heirlooms from her as the eldest daughter in her generation. I didn't pull it together until now, but the way she spoke to her sister, condescendingly, Jill didn't like that."

Understanding dawned on Ressler's face, "Jill's husband, Jeremy, George just got him a job at his firm after a scandal that recently rocked his previous employer."

But Aram was still confused, "But shouldn't he be grateful to George?"

Samar answered for Liz, "Not with these people. It's about status and success. That favor means that Jeremy is in debt to George, therefore Jill's status is still kept below her sister's. But it would explain why George was allowed to collaborate with them if they planned the kidnapping, as a kind of repayment."

"But why plan the kidnapping of his wife? Aren't they supposed to be some kind of power couple?" Ressler asked, but realization was beginning to dawn on Liz. She snatched a random file from Aram's desk ("Wait, those are my plans for the annual Christmas party-") and was already hurrying back to the interrogation rooms, leaving Ressler baffled in her wake. He rushed after her, two steps behind her.

"What was it George? A gambling debt? Drugs? Money for your mistress?" Liz demanded, bursting into the room.

"I- what?"

Ressler entered the room behind her, closing the door firmly behind him but Liz didn't bother turning around to acknowledge his entry.

"We figured it out." Liz told him, slapping the file down onto the metal table. "You have a secret to hide from Daniela."

"You needed money, so you had your wife kidnapped so you could claim insurance on her." Ressler told him, walking around the table to stand behind Boyle. Liz regarded her partner proudly, there you go, Donnie. I knew you'd catch up.

"So what was it?" Liz walked to Boyle's other side, placing her hands on the table and leaning closer to the man. "Work wasn't enough for you, so you decided to place some ill-advised, extra-curricular bets so you could get that thrill?" Liz leaned closer still, lowering her voice, "you didn't think Daniela was going to find out about this? You don't think she's gonna come back and slice your balls off in the middle of the night for betraying her like this?" She hissed in his ear, "You and I know Daniela, we both know that's exactly what she would do if you double crossed her."

Boyle jerked away from her, his eyes wide and Liz knew that he also could imagine that as a real contingency. "No, no- it wasn't me! It was all Jill, she masterminded it all- she wanted those damned jewels and Jeremy said- Jeremy-" Liz raised her head and threw a triumphant glance at Ressler over Boyle's head. He gave a conceding nod

"Who are the men that were driving the truck?" Ressler asked roughly, approaching the table from George's other side and George whipped his head around to the male agent.

"I don't know, I don't… Jeremy said he knew of a crew, I swear, I don't know, they just told me that I had to go with them to a truck and then they would let me go eventually."

"Okay, George, here's the deal. You're going to call Jill. You're going to tell her that your truck got into a high speed chase with the cops and now you're in the hospital and your assailants are being questioned by the police you're going to tell her to call it off and you're going to keep her on the phone long enough so we can run a trace." Liz told him sharply, sliding onto the table so she loomed over Boyle.

"I-I can't. Jill, she- you have no idea what she does, what she's really like." Boyle's hands shook, the confident and arrogant man completely gone. Liz eyed Ressler and she knew he came to the same conclusion that she did. The Marchioness.

"We can talk about that later." Liz told him as Ressler walked to the door of the room, accepting the evidence bag from the guard.

Boyle looked up at her, then back to Ressler, "Wait so are you guys actually together or..?"

Ressler walked back to the table, taking the phone out of the evidence bag and slamming it on the table in from of George. "Make the call."

...

"What's on your mind, Keen?" Ressler asked as he sped down the canopied road towards the abandoned estate in Jill and Jeremy's neighborhood.

Liz turned to look at him, surprised, "What?"

"C'mon, I know when something is bothering you. What is it?"

Liz sighed and reluctantly voiced her thoughts, "That kiss, at the party-,"

Ressler gave a low chuckle, his eyes still fixed on the road, ever vigilant for more deer at the side of the road, "What, you didn't like it?" When Liz stayed quiet, he gave a small sigh, "We needed to make sure the Boyles believed we were just as strong a power couple as they were. Well, look where that got it." He scoffed.

"Right," Liz said, unconvinced, watching the HRT SUV in front of them.

"So was it a good kiss?" Ressler asked and Liz gave him a stern look before turning to look out the window, smiling to herself, knowing that Ressler had the same sly smile on his face. Before long, they pulled up at the abandoned estate, behind the HRT cars. There were no cars out front but a few lights were on inside the house. The first HRT team unloaded, handing Ressler an assault rifle before they got into position and breached the front, Ressler, Liz and Samar sandwiched in the middle while the second team went around the back.

"FBI! Hands- Let me see your hands!" HRT burst into the house, taking down the two armed men standing guard in the dimly lit foyer.

"Upstairs!" Ressler called and Samar claimed the basement as HRT cleared the foyer. Liz followed Ressler and two HRT agents up the staircase. The man standing guard at the front door dropped to his knees instantly at the sight of HRT and the first agent went to cuff him. Liz pressed herself to the wall next to Ressler as the second agent rolled in the flashbang and after the small explosion, the agents filed in and with a small nod from Ressler, Liz followed him inside.

"Down! Get down on your knees, now!" Guns were dropped on the ground by a few men dressed in the waiter uniform and the others dressed in all black like the driver of the van and the crew slowly flattened themselves down the ground while Ressler made a beeline for Jeremey, kneeling in the center of the room. But Liz had set her sights set on the balcony.

"Jill," Liz inched closer, next to the HRT agent positioned between the open French doors, his gun trained on the woman on the balcony, "Easy, Jill."

Jill had changed out of her gown into slacks and a blouse that was blowing lightly in the evening breeze as she stood defiantly on the balcony but the woman next to her was still in sparkling beige gown, the layers of tulle and satin rustling lightly in the open air, a black bag over her head. Jill held her by the elbow, in her other hand was a sall pistol, pointed directly at Daniela.

"Jill, that's you sister. I don't think you really want to do that." Liz warned her calmly, not lowering her own sidearm.

"You don't know anything," Jill sneered with a laugh, her own gun unwavering.

"I know that this isn't just about the heirloom jewels. I know about your operations. You're pretty clever, being able to hide such a big operation for so long." Liz said slowly, "We couldn't find anything on you."

Jill straightened up proudly, "Because they're not just my operations." She said smugly.

"The women in the kitchen?"

Daniela made a muffled sound of protest, and Jill shook her arm roughly, "Shut up, bitch." She snarled, tightening her hold on her older sister.

"Jill, the wives? Are they all involved as well?" Liz prodded.

"They never knew the extent of it all. They just thought we were smuggling jewelry and antiques." Jill laugh maliciously, "as if that would ever earn us enough."

Liz shifted slightly and noticed Ressler on the other balcony from the room adjacent to the one they were standing in. He had traded his rifle for his sidearm which he held pointed at Jill. "Enough for what? What does Daniela have to do with all this?"

"Oh, you have no idea what it's like being raised under her shadow, under the charming little princess. She when Jeremy and I learned of his aunt's business, we knew we wanted a piece of it. The perfect way to settle the score with dear sister here, now I could manipulate her to do my own bidding."

"Where's his aunt now?"

"She's dead." Jill said offhandedly, uninterested in getting into that story, "We had her killed so we could take over. She was getting in the way. But when I found Daniela's little black book, I knew what we had to do next. It was never her charm that got her where she wanted to go. She holds all the scandals, all the secrets of everyone around here. And if she wasn't smart enough to see that she could make money off that, then I will. Jeremy and I, we're going to own everyone.

"Oh, but then," Jilly giggled and pressed the gun into to her sister's side, leaning towards the black bag to speak into her sister's ear, "I found the best secret of all." She whispered, "Turns out George has this little weakness at the country club. It was easy enough to get her to lure him upstairs, and then to blackmail him afterwards. And of course, he complied! George loves you too much to shatter your perfect little illusion." Jill crooned to Daniela, who let out a muffled moan.

"Jill, I don't believe you came here to kill your sister." Liz reasoned as Jill backed up so their backs were pressed up to the edge of the iron railing, "You're surrounded. The second you shoot, we'll have to take you down as well. You need to think, here. Drop the gun and we can discuss a deal."

Jill paused, narrowing her eyes at Liz. "Fine." She conceded, lowering her pistol. "But we won't need her for that." She said flippantly and she jerked her sister backwards.

"No!"

Two shots rang out and Jill crumpled to the ground. Liz lunged forward, holstering her gun with one hand, and grabbing at Daniela's toppling form with the other, catching her by the gown as the woman screamed and sobbed hysterically.

"Liz!" Ressler shouted as momentum pulled Liz and Daniela forward. The HRT agent grabbed onto Liz, trying to pull her back onto the ground as another team member grasped onto Daniela.

Two strong hands fastened around Liz's shoulders and helped pull her over the railing and back onto her feet as the two HRT agents escorted a sobbing Daniela inside, taking off the bag on her head once her back was turned to the balcony.

"She's alive, sir." Another agent confirmed, crouching next to Jill.

"Good. Get her down to the ambulance." Ressler told him before turning to Liz, "You good?" He squeezed her arms and Liz nodded, still trying to catch her breath, meeting his concerned eyes.

"Hey, you guys gotta see this." Samar's voice crackled over the radio, pulling them out of their moment.

"Thanks, I'm good." Liz assured Ressler, patting him on his chest and he finally released her.

"For a second there, I thought was it." He admitted, leading the way out of the room.

"Head first onto a stone patio, clutching a handful of ballgown?" Liz snorted, "No thanks. Besides, I'm used to having save my life so don't tell me you're going to give up that job now."

Ressler flashed her a grin over his shoulder, "Never. But, you better call Reddington and update him before he comes barging in here."

Whew! That was a long one. I got started and I couldn't really stop… I love and appreciate reviews so make sure to drop some down below if you have a chance! Until next time~