Dembe made such good time from Red's safe house that Liz managed to make it in to work before anyone else—even Ressler, who strolled into the office he shared with Liz just as she finished dabbing concealer onto the dark circles under her eyes.

"Keen. I didn't expect you to beat me in this morning," Ressler said, shutting the door behind him. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but… how did everything go? Were there, uh… a lot of tears?" he asked, nodding towards her makeup.

"No, not really. Didn't get much sleep, though."

Ressler's brows furrowed in concern.

"It went well," she clarified. When her meaning clicked, his ears flushed beet red.

"Ah. That well, huh?"

"Hey, I warned you about going down this road."

Ressler held up his hands in mock defense. "I'm just kinda surprised, is all. You seemed pretty pissed at him. I didn't really expect you to go from zero to sixty in one night."

Liz sighed, but she couldn't completely fight off the smile that tugged at her lips. "I guess it helps that I didn't want to be pissed at him. And it's not like it's the first time we went from zero to sixty in one night. I think that's kind of our thing."

"Look at you, smiling like someone just asked you to the school dance," Ressler said, smiling a bit himself. "You look happy. I can't remember the last time you looked this happy. Hell, I don't know if you've looked this happy since I've known you."

"God." Liz scrunched up her face in a wince. "You think so?"

"Yeah, I mean… When would you have? Your life has been pretty much wall-to-wall crazy since Reddington showed up, hasn't it?"

"Yeah. But that's still pretty sad, isn't it?"

"I guess."

Liz shrugged. "Well, I guess it's true. I guess I'm happy. I guess getting laid will do that for you."

"Come on, Liz. It can't just be because you got laid. You were married when we met!"

"Well, you kinda came into it at a bad time in the marriage. We weren't really…" She trailed off, biting her lip, afraid she had already gone way too far past 'too much information' to backtrack now. "Anyway… It's not like I was missing much there either way."

"Was Tom really that shitty in bed?"

"Honestly? He kinda was. It always seemed like he was just… going through the motions. Like he was trying to appear like a considerate lover, but all he really cared about was getting all of that out of the way so he could get off and roll over and fall asleep."

"And Reddington's not like that."

"God, no. Not at all."

"I guess that's not surprising. He had to come by his reputation somehow or else his old flames wouldn't still be so eager to greet him with a kiss on the lips," Ressler mused. "Is he going to be insufferable now?"

"Is Reddington ever not insufferable?"

"I don't know, you tell me. You know what? On second thought—don't."

"Oh, fuck off!" Liz crumpled up a piece of scrap paper and tossed it at Ressler as he ducked out of the office.

"Don't forget we've got a debrief in five minutes," he called over his shoulder.

Liz sighed and gathered up her paperwork to bring with her.

"Morning, Agent Keen."

"Morning, Aram."

"Hey, weren't you wearing the same sweater yesterday?" Aram asked, without any ill-intent or intentional implications.

Liz glanced over at Ressler, who was pointedly avoiding her eyes. "Guess I forgot it was supposed to be laundry day until it was too late."

"Do you still go to the laundromat or do you have in-unit?"

"Uh… in-unit. But the downstairs neighbor would kill me if I do laundry after nine o'clock."

"That kinda sucks."

"It does, indeed. All that supposed freedom and for what?" Liz and Aram turned their heads at the sound of Red's voice. He'd been eavesdropping, obviously, and he made no attempt to hide it. "Good morning, Agent Mojtabai, Agent Keen."

Red's tone was cheerful and upbeat, and he was especially warm towards Liz, but that was… not unusual. The only thing that stood out about it was the stark contrast to his recent moroseness. It was all Liz could do not to return his greeting with equal cheer—better that his mood be the only one obviously improved overnight.

"Good morning, Mr. Reddington," Aram said.

Red gave Aram a flat smile and leaned a bit closer to Liz. "Agent Keen, you should give my proposition more thought. It could help relieve you of your laundry troubles."

"Proposition?"

"He tried to buy me an apartment."

"Oh! That's… sweet."

"I don't know if 'sweet' is the word I'd use, but in any case, he knows I can't accept it."

"I don't know if 'can't' is the word I'd use—more like 'won't'…"

"Reddington—"

"Guys, here comes Cooper."

Red pasted on another overly placid smile, ostensibly on his best behavior—which only ever served to make him look especially suspicious. In this case, it put Cooper instantly on the defensive.

"Harold! What a lovely morning we're having, don't you think?"

"What are you up to?"

"You wound me. Why would I be up to something?"

"You rarely attend debriefs, especially before ten in the morning. Chances are you're only here because you want something."

"Agent Keen made an interesting comment last night and I'm afraid I haven't been able to stop thinking about it," Red said. "I think we've been approaching this Blacklister all wrong. As Agent Keen pointed out, we've been focusing almost entirely on his business. It's time we shifted focus toward his… pleasure.

"He's very rigid in regards to his professional life and that may very well be why we haven't been able to find any weak points to exploit. His personal life however… If we're creative, we may be able to catch him while his guard is down. As luck would have it, we might have a chance to do just that tomorrow night."

"What's happening tomorrow?" Ressler asked.

"Only the most exclusive gala this side of the Potomac. I'm almost surprised you've never heard of it," Red said. "While it is being held at one of his nightclubs, the entire shindig is strictly—strictly—for pleasure. No business talk allowed."

"You think you can get yourself invited?"

"Of course I can, Harold. Why wouldn't he want me there? I'm the life of the party."

Thankfully, the FBI had already acquired blueprints for every one of the Blacklister's properties, so planning their infiltration would be straightforward, even on short notice. The task force spent the next half hour running through various scenarios and settled on a pretty good game plan for getting in the Blacklister's good graces while keeping everyone reasonably safe.

"If we maintain positions here and here, we'll be able to keep an eye on the whole place without drawing any undue attention." Red leaned over the table to point at the blueprints, angled in such a way that he could only be trying to emphasize his, er… assets. Looking back over his shoulder, he asked, "What do you think, Agent Keen?"

"Seems solid to me."

Ressler covered a snort with a cough and shot Liz a knowing look, somewhere between amused and comically disgusted.

"OK, everyone, I think we've got everything we need for today. Keen, rest up for tomorrow night. Reddington, make sure your people are prepared—we're counting on their firepower if things go sideways, like they so often do. The rest of you get back to work."

"I'll meet you in the garage," Liz said to Red, her voice low enough not to be overheard by any of her coworkers. He nodded and headed for the elevator with Dembe.

Liz knocked on her office door jamb to get Ressler's attention.

"Can you swing by my place on your way home from work later? I need to talk to you about something."

"Something related to the, uh… other thing we've been discussing?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"Sure. Is there anything I should be preparing myself for or…?"

"Not really," she said, but then she doubled back and added, "Maybe bring your appetite. You know how he is."