Wouldn't You Know It

Chapter 13: Epilogue

"Yeah…sure…"

"Great, so…tonight? After work?"

"Sounds good…OK…"

Liz didn't mean to, but her voice sounded awfully hoarse, even to her estimation, and she couldn't quite mask the stammering that took her gasping for fistful of breath. On top of that, she was sure that her cheeks glowed in the reddish hue that certainly reflected the fiery heat that invaded all innermost recesses of her heart. Ressler asking solely for her company for drinks took her by surprise, yes…but she hadn't foreseen just how she would react to such…and now she knew. She'd been reduced to a giddy and nervous schoolgirl who now couldn't look at the boy in the eyes.

"Liz…are you…are you alright?" Her sudden turn for peculiar and fidgety countenance did not go unnoticed by Ressler, and he inquired with quizzical concern drawn on his face.

"Yeah…I'm fine. I just feel, umm…it's nothing. I'm fine."

"Alright…" He didn't look to be wholly buying what she was trying to convince him of, but with his eyes rested on her, he stood up from his chair while grabbing his coat perched upon it. "I actually need to leave now. Cooper asked me to deliver some files to the central office."

"I see…"

"So, why don't I just call you when I'm done?"

"OK…I'm leaving for home right now, so…"

Ressler walked to the door with a briefcase in hand, but he stood there with shy uncertainty of taking another step, "Why…why don't I just come pick you up from your apartment? It might actually be easier, since it's on the way…"

"It makes sense, yeah…sure."

"Alright, then…" He gave a small smile, perhaps in relief at finding Liz most agreeable to all of his terms, he then turned toward the door, "I guess I'll see you in a bit…"

"Yeah…"

"I'll call you."

"OK…bye."

. . . . . . . . .

Liz closed the door of the apartment, locking it firmly behind her, then she quickly scurried to the kitchen and took a long gulp of the cold water from the tap. With weary shoulders, she leaned against the refrigerator, and breathed in for the first time in her memory that night.

"No, that wasn't awkward…wasn't awkward at all." She muttered to herself, not believing any of the words just uttered in that small space. She was attempting to convince no one but herself, but already knew she was failing at that…miserably. "Oh, for cryin' out loud…"

She marched into the bathroom, and stood before the mirror with trepidation and defeat. She had expected some worse for wear, yes…but she was startled at the ghastly picture looking back at her. She needed to comb her hair, reapply the eyeliner, put on the rose gloss, maybe some perfume, and…and…and…

"Oh hell, I might as well dip myself in the vat of magical fairy dust and roll myself on the rainbow of unicorn glitter, and I'd still look like I've been through the trenches of World War II…"

Liz picked up a hairbrush, and proceeded to comb through the kinks of her frizzy hair when she abruptly ceased in mid-air, "What the hell is wrong with me? It's not like he asked me out on a…date. He probably sees this as a meeting of co-workers…work colleagues…two people who work together, who know each other…who casually know each other. I'm getting worked up for nothing."

She placed the hairbrush on the counter, overlooking her hair that had managed to look a bit more presentable than a moment ago. She didn't feel satisfied, but she was willing to take the small victory, "This isn't a date…it's just drinks. And we'll probably end up talking about cases anyhow. That would be so typical of him to…he's probably not even giving this half the thought as I am…"

She didn't finish that sentence, "Not only am I talking to myself…I'm rambling to myself."

With the heart remotely convinced that it's not a date, Liz nonetheless opened her closet door with a hopeful conviction of finding something more "suitable" to wear. "It's not a date…but it's a bar…and I want to be more comfortable. Yes…comfortable."

She pulled out a red V-neck sweater…but that was too suggestive. Then she spotted a purple turtleneck…but that was too prudish. She moved onto a black tunic sweater, and decided to wear it with her black jeans…but perhaps that was too dreary. "Oh, Jesus…wouldn't want to depress the guy…"

She was about to reach for another red sweater when her cell phone rang off in the living room. It's been hardly thirty minutes since she'd seen Ressler at the office, and she panicked, seeing that she was nowhere ready for their…non-date of drinks. She had estimated he'd take at least an hour, and now she didn't know what to do, except to race to the living room to answer his call.

But the cell phone registered "Nick's Pizza" on the screen. It was Reddington, and with a heave of reluctance, she tapped on the answer button.

"Red, now is not a good time."

"Lizzie, I need you."

"What?"

"I need you, so come outside."

"What is it?"

"Tonight I received an important intel on an Egyptian faction syndicate…"

"And…"

"There was an interception of communications, and the word is that Egole Marrake…."

"The cartel kingpin…sorry to burst your bubble, but he's dead."

"Not only is he breathing air, he's set up camp in our own backyard."

"It can't be…is this confirmed? How confident are you of your sources?"

"As confident as Alfred Wallace at a high school science fair."

"Who the hell is…oh, never mind."

"I'm parked outside. We need to get to work on this, tonight."

"Now…it's almost ten."

"Yes, right now."

Liz cursed under her breath and bit her bottom lip, feeling absolutely baffled at the tight position she was placed in. Ressler would be calling her any minute now, but Reddington…he sounded terse and impatient, and he meant dire business. But Ressler…he was coming for her…

"Lizzie." Reddington was done waiting for her, and his tone was sharp and desperate.

"How long would this take?"

"I don't know…how long does it take to save innocent lives?"

"Red…"

"You're wasting time."

Damn it…damn it…damn it! "Fine…I'm coming."

Liz didn't bother changing out of the clothes that weighed upon her like sticky film of grime, and quickly bolted out of her apartment. Her heart felt like it was spinning in a vortex of a giant mess, but her head goaded her to move…and deal with whatever consequences that may come, as presented. She clutched onto her phone as she climbed into Reddington's waiting car, hoping that Ressler would take longer than she had once hoped.

"Took you long enough."

"Red, this better be worth my time, because…"

"Needless to say, I wouldn't be here if otherwise."

The car started to move, and Liz didn't care to know where they were headed and she didn't question it. "So, Egole Marrake…"

"I'll explain once we arrive at our destination."

She shied away from his gaze, "Should we call Ressler?"

"I'll call him when I need him…if I need him."

"How about Cooper?"

"I've arranged a meeting with him tomorrow morning."

She turned to the window and looked out to the blurry night of passing lights, determined to not argue with Reddington into calling in Ressler. The criminal had his own way of dealing with the mechanics of business, and she'd yet to succeed in talking him into altering it. Plus, she didn't want to draw attention to her wholly distracted thoughts of Ressler…and Reddington was too sharp to be toyed with.

"Lizzie, are you alright?"

"I'm fine…"

"You seem distracted."

"No, I'm just…thinking about the case."

"Are you expecting a phone call?"

She turned to him slowly, feeling tense under his smug gaze, "No."

"You've looked at your phone five times during the last two minutes. I'd say you're expecting a phone call."

"Red…let's just get this done…whatever that needs to be done."

He paused a slight before speaking tenuously, "I do apologize for calling so late. But I wouldn't have called you if it wasn't important."

"Let's…just get this done, as quick as possible."

Just then the car made a gentle turn into a large parking lot, and Liz spotted rows of what looked to be vacant and dilapidated warehouses. Dembe parked the car in front of one that could only boast of greying ghosts inside.

Liz threw a questioning gaze toward Red before she climbed out of the car, "Where the hell are we?"

"It's my…lab."

"You have a lab?"

"It's a think-tank of sorts, if you will."

Reddington walked on ahead and Liz followed his sprightly steps, while keeping her eyes upon the surroundings. The scene was just as what she'd expected of abandoned lots: no one in sight and not a sound heard, but of fields of deathly stillness, except for the dreary swaying of dead leaves and shriveling branches.

Their eerie walk was sharply startled when her cell phone went off in her coat pocket, with its pitch piercing ominously in their silent company. Liz reached for the phone, just as Reddington looked back at her with a shadowy scowl.

"Lizzie…"

"Wait." She instantly fished out her phone, and saw that it was Ressler calling, "I have to get this."

"Must you?"

"Yes." She wasn't going to haggle with him on that decision, "I need two minutes."

"Fine. Dembe will wait with you." And with that, Reddington walked on ahead, and disappeared into a warehouse marked number twenty-two.

Liz turned to face Dembe, who had not moved since his directive by Reddington. She trudged several steps away from him out of precaution…and to hide the sudden bashfulness that overtook her heart, "Hello, Ressler?"

"Liz…"

"Hey, umm…"

"I'm at your door, so if you're ready…"

"Ressler, I'm sorry, but I'm not home right now."

"What…where are you?"

"Honestly, I have no idea…"

"Liz…"

"I'm with Reddington. He called earlier…he needs my help."

"He needs your help?" Liz could hear that Ressler's voice was starting to crack with obvious unease, "What kind of help does he need at this hour?"

"Ressler, it's…regarding a case we worked on earlier this year."

"What case?"

"Egole Marrake…"

"He's dead."

"Apparently, he's alive…and operating in the states."

He paused a slight before speaking, "Alright, tell me where you are, and I'll be on my way."

"Ressler…Red doesn't need your here. Not now, anyway."

"What?"

"He says he'll call you if he needs you."

"Of course, he said that…bastard. Well, I'm still coming."

"Ressler…"

"Liz, give me your location."

"Let's just talk tomorrow. Red is meeting with Cooper in the morning, so I'm sure we'll fill you in then."

"Jesus Christ…Liz…"

"I'm sorry…and our drinks…"

"Forget about it." His voice sounded gruff and jagged, "You just…be careful out there. And…"

"And…?"

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ressler..." She wasn't ready to hang up yet, not after his embittered tone. She winced at the disheartening realization that everything she had hoped for had been taken from her by such cruel chance…and she would've given anything in the world, then and there, to leave Reddington and run towards Ressler, "I'm so sorry about…I mean…"

"It is what it is. It can't be helped, not tonight anyhow."

"Ressler…"

"I'll see you in the morning, Liz."

And with that, he hung up on her, with no regard to what her last words may be. She simply stared at the phone, with a frigid wave of sadness overwhelming all her senses, and she pondered upon what she must do next.

"Agent Keen." Dembe's guttural voice rang calmly into the quiet wind, "You need to come with me."

She breathed in a lungful of air, and placed her phone back into her coat pocket, "Coming."

. . . . . . . . .

Reddington was already in Cooper's office when Liz walked in the early next day, and she also found Ressler sitting on the armchair against the far wall. He shot her a quick glance as she entered the office, but promptly returned his attention onto Cooper addressing Reddington.

"What do you have for us?"

"I have three locations. The best course would be to dispatch the SWAT team to each location." Reddington replied methodically, "If you act quickly, you should be able to arrest the entire patriarch."

"Three locations…" Ressler interjected with a hint of disdain, "So, it's like crapshoot. Whoever finds him hits the jackpot."

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it." Reddington replied flatly, not quite approving of Ressler's veiled saucy tone.

"How did you get your hand on these…three locations?"

"I had my people work on it."

"Your people, huh?" Ressler snorted in a derisive grin, "You mean other criminals…"

"Their work is reliable," Reddington cut him off with a flicker of annoyance.

"And I suppose your people worked on this intel last night." Ressler's weary eyes rested on Liz's face for a brief moment, just as she was staring at him to ascertain just what the heck he was up to.

"Yes…" Reddington was also mystified at the younger agent's line of questioning, "Donald, is there something specific you wish to inquire of me? Or are you just curious as to how I spend my evenings?"

Liz attempted to catch Ressler's attention, but his eyes steadfastly avoided hers, as if he had already known her intentions. His lips simply parted into a grin at the older man, but his eyes lost none of the searing focus, "Yes, Red…color me curious."

"Donald, I'm betting that it's a lot more complicated than a simple curiosity."

But it was Cooper who decided the end of that conversation. "Alright…I'm dispatching the SWAT team to these locations," he spoke succinctly, while overlooking few papers in his hand, "Agent Ressler, I'm assigning you to West Borough District."

"Yes, sir."

"Agent Keen, you're assigned to Northport Square," he handed her a single sheet of paper, "Here's the location. Any questions?"

She reviewed the location details on the paper, and nodded, "No, sir."

"And Reardon?" Ressler's sharp but gruff tone rang in their company.

"I'll have Navabi take it." Cooper then clasped his hands, "And I'll see you all in three hours…good luck to whoever finds that son of a bitch."

. . . . . . . .

"Ressler, wait…"

"I have to go, Liz…and so do you."

He was bounding down the steps of the parking level with much focus and haste, and Liz had to exert more force than she'd have liked to in order to keep up. "Ressler, I said wait…"

But he continued his quick strides, reaching his Fed issued car in an instant, not once slowing down at her demands. She was seething in anger by the time she reached his car, and just as he was about to open the car door, she abruptly and forcefully placed her hand upon it, "Ressler, what is wrong with you?"

He didn't challenge her hand upon the car door, and turned to her with a solemn face, "Liz, I need to go."

"You have few minutes."

He inhaled deeply, and with his eyes off to the yonder, he muttered, "Fine…what is it?"

"Ressler…" She didn't continue until he looked at her, "What the hell was that with Reddington?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." By now, she had taken her hand off the car door, but she kept him cornered against the car nonetheless, "Reddington gave us a valuable lead…"

"Well, that remains to be seen…"

"And you bite his head off…about last night? I know what you're trying to do."

"Look, Liz…" Ressler took a step closer to her, "You know what I realized last night…is that this…this thing between us…"

"Thing?"

"Whatever this is…between us…will never work."

"What are you talking about? Ressler…"

"I could never…" His face now bore a disconcerted mix of grief and quietude, "This world you have with Reddington…I could never belong to it. There isn't enough space for me there."

"What…"

"And you would always…" His tone lowered to a near whisper, "You would always choose Reddington over me…and I'm not going to compete with that old man, not now and not ever."

"Ressler, last night…I had to work on this case. And you would've done exactly the same thing." She pleaded with him, "It…it was just bad timing."

"Yeah, well…we've had a lot of those, huh?" His head now hung low, "Liz…the bottom line is that I don't belong in that world…in your world."

"You don't get to tell me who does or doesn't belong in my world." She stammered in indignation, feeling her face flushed in heat of the stymied fervor, "And I suppose my feelings about this has nothing to do with this…"

"Decision." Ressler woefully offered to finish her sentence, "Yeah…I made that decision. And you can keep your feelings, Liz, for someone who's willing to work hard to consider it."

"Ressler, you're out of your mind," she tugged on his suit sleeve, and grabbed his arm, "How can you say all this, after all that we've been through?"

"Liz…perhaps it took me this long to realize it."

"How can you…" The feelings of betrayal and hurt had now emboldened her, "How can you not know how I feel about you?"

Ressler stared into her eyes, "You've said it yourself, my emotional assessment is nearly non-existent."

"Don't you dare…"

"But I'm not a fool, Liz. Don't underestimate my time value assessment."

"And it's telling you to quit, is that it?"

"Yes."

She held her tongue, and fought with all her might to resist calling him a coward…for quitting on her, for not fighting for her, and for not wanting her…the way she wanted him, the way she felt for him. And she resisted calling him a fool, for even considering that she would ever prefer Reddington over him. That was utter foolishness…how could he not know that she would give up the world for him? How could he not know that she was in love with him?

"I have to go, Liz…" He eyed her carefully, and waited until she stepped away from the car door before reaching for the handle. She had no words for him, and she silently walked away from the sound of his car roaring away, with not a look back at the diminishing figure of the lone occupant.

. . . . . . . .

"Damn…not a thing to eat."

Liz grumbled as she surveyed the dismally empty refrigerator, and she moved on to flipping the cupboard doors in search of anything…within the dates of perishable guidelines. She had arrived at her apartment an hour ago, and after a long shower it was nearly half past nine when she ventured into the kitchen for any semblance of dinner. But it was no use. There was nothing to eat, and she had to figure out what to do…and everything about this situation was just too damn bothersome.

"Damn him…"

But it wasn't the empty refrigerator that bothered her…and it wasn't the late hours and the aching muscles that bothered her…it wasn't even the gnawing hunger that bothered her…it was Ressler, and his words that dogged and frustrated her to no end. She felt pressed against the dead end, with her face cruelly pushed upon the cold slab of concrete wall. And not only that, she felt as though a dreadfully resilient tape was plastered upon her lips, for he had stubbornly refused to consider her words. And her feelings…he scoffed at it as if such were dispensed without cost…without the hesitation of naked vulnerability.

"Emotional dimwit…a complete dolt!"

And perhaps it would be easier to deem him an absolute fool, and relegate it as lost cause. This was turning out to be too much work for her, and perhaps the fool just didn't deserve her affections. And the nerve of him, for refusing to keep to the stereotypes of the male and female roles on the fairy tale storyboard…which meant Ressler is the knight in shining armor, and he should be the one valiantly searching through the evil trenches to rescue Liz, the damsel in distress. It's his job…the only expectation, the sole purpose of his being….to scoop her up and proclaim his undying love for her…

Liz was startled in midst of her silly reverie when the door bell rang, jolting the silence of her apartment. Filled with alarm and curiosity, she gingerly walked to the door, and peeked through the peep hole. "What in the world…"

"Hey, Liz…" It was Ressler who greeted her as she promptly opened the door.

"Hey…what are you…" She couldn't explain why, but she felt resistant to the small grin upon his face, and if he came there to apologize, she didn't feel he deserved an easy pardon.

Ressler abruptly broke in, "So, I guess it was Navabi who struck jackpot today, huh?"

"I suppose."

"We got the bastard…and arrested the entire patriarch. About thirty of them."

"I heard." She was done with the business talk, "What are you doing here, Ressler?"

He smiled at her, as if he had expected the swift interrogation all along, "I came to see if you…wanted some dinner."

"You came here to see if I wanted some dinner…" She wasn't going to play along, "You need to try harder if you think I'd buy into that crap."

"Liz…"

"What do you want, Ressler? Why are you here?"

"OK, fine. You're not going to make this easy for me, I get it." He swallowed hard before continuing, "I came to apologize for earlier…everything I said, I was a complete ass. I have no excuse, I shouldn't have said any of it."

"No regrets, you know. I'm just glad that now I know how you truly feel about me, especially this world you think I belong to."

"Liz, that's not…"

"Ressler…I get it, alright? And apology accepted, so you could…"

"Liz…" He boldly stepped forward and grabbed the door, seeing that she was about to close it in any moment, "I want to explain…please, give me a chance."

She looked over him as he stood in her doorway, and deciding against inviting him in, she replied flatly, "Fine…I'm listening."

"Look, I'll admit that your relationship with Reddington…is not easy on me. There is this…connection between you two that I don't understand, and…and…to be honest, I feel jealous that he has that with you."

"Ressler…"

"And I know all this sounds like some whiny crap, but…there's this feeling that I can't get over…that I'll always come second…to Reddington."

"That's…that's not true," she couldn't bare to see him continue without heart's relief.

"Liz, I just need to know…and don't give me some words to make me feel better about it…nothing cheap like that…"

"Ressler…Don…you have to believe me when I say that…you will never come second to Reddington. You never have…"

He looked upon her with wavering reluctance, "Maybe I need to be reminded of that, every once in awhile. But it's not easy…thinking that I need to compete with the likes of Reddington."

"And you don't ever have to…Don, the way I feel towards Red cannot compare to how I feel about…you."

His blue eyes lit up ever so cautiously, "Because if it's between him and me, I'll punch his lights out to get the girl."

She chuckled at his easy jest, "Believe me…the girl has already chosen."

"Has she…?"

"Yes, she has."

"And does the boy stand a chance?"

"He might…yeah, he might."

Ressler's lips parted into a timid smile, just as he took a sly step closer to her, "Liz, this thing between us…"

"You're bringing up this thing again…what is this thing?"

"Oh, we have a thing…and I'm pretty sure you know what I'm talking about."

"I may have a slight idea…"

Now with a bit more assurance, Ressler took another step closer, "Well, it's just that…I want this thing with you."

"You do…"

"I do." He gently laid his hand upon the doorpost, a breath away from her shoulder, "And I get that all this is…complicated, with us working together and all that mess. But…I don't want to be a coward, not anymore. I don't want to push it aside because it's difficult…and because I'm scared. And because I'm such a bonehead when it comes to feelings and emotions, and all that."

"Don…"

"And when I'm with you, Liz…all I could think about is kissing you."

She was struck speechless by this sudden declaration, and all she could do was peer into his eyes, just as he was timidly studying her face for a reaction. And if she wasn't so focused on wanting him to kiss her, she would've noticed how his hand had now moved from the doorpost, and onto her shoulder.

And that's when he leaned into her, not losing another moment, and most decidedly regardless of her permission of it. With his other hand firmly cradling her face, Ressler kissed her, claiming her lips with his own. His lips were soft and moist, and the heat of the suckled touch caused her lips to part, to draw him in deeper, to taste him that much closer. She nestled tightly into his chest, just as he grabbed her waist and pulled her in, and she felt his tongue shyly graze against her bottom lip.

At the sliver touch of his tongue, her legs shuddered in reaction, and she grasped the nape of his neck to keep his lips on her, for more…and more. She may have moaned, but she wasn't too sure, and she didn't care. His skin felt fresh against her skin, his musky scent was overwhelming, and his lips responded to her with audacious hunger and ardor. And she was wildly aware that his hands had somehow made its way onto her bare waist, underneath the flimsy shirt she had thrown on. His hands held her firmly, with his calloused fingers upon her cool skin pulsating fiery heat throughout her entire body.

The kiss wasn't long, but the depth of its release had sufficiently robbed her of any strength to stand without his support, "The boy has kissed the girl, finally."

He laughed softly, with his lips still a flutter away, "Here it comes…the critique. So, what's the word on it?"

"A kiss is a kiss…I'll hold my judgment until the romance part comes along."

"I see…but just so that you know, this wasn't our first kiss. If the memory serves me right, you kissed me first."

"Hey, that doesn't count, I wasn't kissing you."

"Last I checked, these lips belong to me."

"We were undercover…don't you dare hold that over me." Liz squeezed his shoulders playfully, and his eyes lingered on her lips. He wanted to kiss her again.

"It's because you wanted me, Liz. Just admit it…you wanted me all to yourself. And who are we kidding? That undercover op…was just an excuse to get your hands all over my hot, sexy body…"

"OK, I'm now officially done with this conversation."

Liz attempted to push him away, but he kept his firm grip of her waist, "Fine, let's finish this conversation inside."

Then he opened the door of her apartment, and proceeded to guide her in, with a satisfied grin appearing as she readily fell into the rhythm of his steps and offered no resistance. And just as he nuzzled into her neck and began to leave trail of kisses, and right about the time she was beginning to lose all lucidity, she reached for the doorknob and closed the door firmly behind them.

The End

. . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Thank you for reading "Wouldn't You Know It"! I appreciate all the support I got for this story! And TEAM KEENLER!