Liz cradled her hands around the warm china teacup and sighed. She glanced at Red.

He had his reading glasses perched on his nose, one hand holding his book open and the other scratching absently at the fur on Hudson's neck. Her dog had curled up between the two of them on the couch and rested his head on Red's thigh. As good as it felt to have this casual closeness back in her life, there was still a tension between them that had yet to be resolved.

She sighed again.

Red peered at her over his glasses. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you, Lizzy, or are we starting to head down the road of secrets and lies again so soon after we left it?"

"Who says anything is bothering me?"

"As much as your acting skills have improved in the last year, I would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to miss how distracted you've been all night."

He studied her as if he might be able to decipher what she was hiding from him in the lines of her face, the set of her jaw. She looked away, afraid for fleeting moment that he could.

He was right, of course. Something was bothering her, and the more she thought about it, the more discouraged she felt, the more she resentful she was that people could read her so wrong. It was that resentment that made her want to explain herself. She needed someone to know the truth about what was going on with her, and Red was in a unique position to grasp that truth. If only he would listen.

She took a deep, calming breath and then another; she bit her lip and braced herself. "I'm not still in love with Tom," she said at last.

Red marked his place and closed his book, turning his full attention on her. "Lizzy…"

"Both you and Ressler think I am. I'm not." He opened his mouth as if he was going to give her another lecture on the nature of love and powerlessness, a lecture she hoped was as transparent as it felt at the time. Her tenuous understanding of Red's actions hinged on it. She rushed on before he could speak. "Trust me, I've given it a lot of thought. Just because I couldn't kill him doesn't mean I'm in love with him. I'm not denying there's a lot of confusing emotions there still, just… I'm not in love with him anymore. I haven't been for a while now."

"That's good to hear."

"You don't believe me."

He flashed her a tight, almost pitying smile.

She wanted to slap him. Or scream. Or shake him until he understood. Instead, Liz shifted on the couch and Hudson jumped to the floor, padding off in search of his water dish, tail wagging.

"Lizzy, what are you…" Suddenly, she threw a knee over his legs to straddle his lap. He fell silent; she slid his glasses off his face and his breathing slowed while he watched her, barely daring to move lest he break whatever spell had fallen over them. She leaned forward to press her lips to his in a slow, drugging kiss.

She pulled back to search his face. His eyelids fluttered open sluggishly, his thumb rubbed back and forth at her hip.

"What was that for?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble.

"I'm trying to prove a point. Ressler said the difference between working with Tom as an informant and working with you is that I'm not in love with you, and that's what makes it OK."

Red's jaw clenched. "And your point was…?"

"I told you. I'm not in love with Tom," she said. "You can tell me what you think love is all you want, Red, but it sure as hell isn't holding someone captive and milking them for information. Love is concern, love is sacrifice, love is caring more about someone else's safety than your own. Love is respect and affection and catching you when you fall. I have none of that with Tom."

His eyes slid shut as if he was in pain, and when he opened them, they shone with unshed tears. She caught him red-handed and he knew it.

"I think you and I need to take a long, hard look at what we've been doing to ourselves lately, to each other. Because let's face it, between the two of us, we've spent the better part of the last few months nearly destroying the world because we've been jealous of each other's exes."

Red swallowed reflexively.

"That is a gross oversimplification, but I think there's more truth to it than either of us should be comfortable with." He brought one of his hands up to cradle her head, fingers sliding into her hair, thumb caressing her cheek. "What a mess we've made, Lizzy."

"At least we recognize it. It can only get better from here."