Author's Note: This may end up being just a one-shot. I haven't decided yet. I just noticed that sad lack of Tom fics and wanted to do something about it. Reviews are always welcome and may persuade me to write more. Enjoy!
"What happens when Ms. Ritchi finds out who you really are?" The talking fish in the robot suit asked the blue-head alien. Lizzy, snugged comfortably into Tom's chest didn't notice her husband's grimace. It was his own fault; he had picked the movie after all. In the store Megamind had seemed like a safe option, especially compared to some of the other choices available to him. These days everything he saw in Blockbusters hit way too close to home. Assassin movies had been a turn-off for him, but lately even romantic comedies wreaked havoc on his peace of mind. He'd thought he would be safe with a cartoon. He'd been wrong.
"She won't find out, that's the point of LYING." Tom slightly shifted his position on the couch, as though that was going somehow ease his discomfort.
"Babe? Something wrong?" Liz's eyes were off the screen and on him. The movie dialogue continued in the background, providing voice to the very issue Tom had been struggling with for the past three years.
"-The bad guy doesn't get the girl!" Tom knew that was true. There was no "happily ever after" for people like him.
"Maybe I don't want to be the bad guy anymore!" Tom didn't think he'd ever empathized so much with a fiction character, let alone a cartoon. He pulled his gaze back to Lizzie's face. She was so beautiful. Strong, yet vulnerable. Hard, but soft. She took his breath away. The phone rang, sparing him telling the woman he loved, yet another lie.
"I got it." Liz sat up and allowed him to escape into their kitchen.
"Do you want me to pause it?" she called from the living room.
"Don't bother. You can fill me in later." With any luck the phone would last a while. Tom had a strong feeling his blue friend was heading for a fall, and he had no desire to watch it happen. Tom picked up the portable and pressed the on button, "Keen residence,Tom speaking."
"Tom Keen. Such a respectable and honest sounding name. Doesn't suit you at all." Tom stomach dropped at the familiar voice. Why couldn't it have been an offer to sub next week, or a charity, or a telemarketer? Anyone, but Gina Zanetakos. He peeked out into the living room to check on Liz. She seemed absorbed by the movie.
"What are you doing calling me on my home phone?" Gina should not be contacting him at all, let alone here. Gina knew the rules laid out by their mutual employer.
"I needed to talk to you and it won't do to have your burner ring in front of the Mrs. Your wife might think you have a secret lover." Gina's voice purred in his ear, sending another needle he didn't need into his conscience. He'd been faithful to Liz for their one year of marriage, but for the two years prior, he couldn't make the same claim.
Four years ago, before "Tom Keen" came into existence, he'd been with Gina. It wasn't a relationship exactly, more like…an arrangement. They'd moved in and out of each other's orbits, working together on half a dozen assignments. They made an efficient team. It didn't hurt matters that Gina was gorgeous and that, given their line of work, they spent large chucks of their time together in hotel rooms.
"What do you want, Gina?" Tom doubted this was a social call. Gina wasn't the type to risk the wrath of their employer for personal reasons.
"Someone's in a mood. What's the matter? Is your wife not adding enough butter to your popcorn? You know, I could take care of that for you…" Tom froze, not at Gina's innuendo, but at her specific word choice. Gina knew they knew they were watching a movie. She had eyes inside their apartment. He quickly did a memory scan of the living room. The blinds were drawn, he was sure of it. That meant cameras. She'd been here. She'd been inside his home. His first instinct was to find and destroy each and every bug and camera she'd planted, but experience told him that would be a mistake.
"I'm hanging up now." He took the phone away from his ear, so that Gina would see he was serious.
"Fine, business first. We have a job." His satisfaction of being right, quickly disappeared as her words sunk in.
"I can't, I already have a job." Two jobs technically. He was becoming more and more in demand as a substitute teacher. He was actually starting to feel pride about that. Tom had done his due diligence on the teaching profession before he assumed his cover identity. He'd naturally been provided with fake diplomas, certifications, and references. Nothing he'd read had prepared him for spending the day standing in for a middle school English teacher. By the end of the day he'd decided he'd sooner face a troop of guerilla soldiers rather than a classroom of eighth graders. Eventually it had gotten better; or rather he had gotten better. He'd actually begun to enjoy it. He genuinely liked working with the kids, especially the younger ones. They had such enthusiasm and energy. They also shared something with him he had lost a long time ago, innocence.
"So multi-task. It's nothing you haven't done before." Gina's voice snapped him back into reality. He thought back to the last time he had "multi-tasked". It had been the weekend of his "bachelor party". The weekend was supposed to celebrate his last nights as a free man, but ironically it just proved how much of a slave he really was.
After he and Gina had concluded the hit, Tom had returned to his hotel room. His employer had been waiting for him. Maybe it had been the adrenaline high, or maybe he had just been sick of jumping through hoops like a show dog, but he had issued a demand: no more "side projects". He'd argued that when he and Liz were husband and wife, living under the same roof, the little jaunts out of the countries were too much of a risk. To his surprise his boss had agreed, with one caveat: Gina. At first Tom had thought his employer had meant he'd need to kill her, but as it turned out, that hadn't been it at all.
He'd returned to Gina's hotel room and proved his loyally per his boss' instruction. Afterwards Tom had returned to his hotel room, showered and went to bed. He hadn't been completely surprised when the enveloped appeared under his door the next day containing photographic evidence of his indiscretion. He'd wondered briefly if Gina had known. He doubted she'd care one way or the other. The day of the wedding came and went without incident. Months passed, and Tom had allowed himself to get comfortable. Too comfortable, clearly.
"When and where?" There was no point in arguing. If he fought the boss on this the best case scenario was that Liz would be expressed mailed pictures of him and Gina in flagrante delicto. The worst case scenario was that he'd wind up with a bullet in his head, and Liz would be left without anyone to protect her from the war she was unwittingly in the middle of.
"Saturday, 1:00 pm. Boston, Angel Station Hotel. Room 736."
"I'll be there." Tom hung up before Gina could say another word. He needed an alibi. He couldn't use family as his excuse. He'd told Liz he was an orphan, and only child to explain the decided lack of family members at their wedding. If the need arose he could always create a long lost grandparent, or great aunt, but when it came to lies the simplest approach was always the best. Liz believed he was actively seeking a full-time teaching job. He could use that.
Tom pulled his smart phone out of his pocket did a quick search of the Boston area. Rothwell School. Head Master Walter Burris. Perfect. He pasted a smile on his face and strolled back into the living room. Liz still seemed engrossed in the film. Tom glanced at the screen and saw Megamind was chasing after an angry-looking Roxanne. Not a good sign.
"Did you ever think that I would want to be with you?"
"No…" This movie was more depressing than Old Yeller, and that was saying something. The screen froze with the dejected alien standing alone in the rain.
"Tom? Are you okay?" He shook his head and turned his attention to his wife.
"Great. I just got a call from Walter Burris from the Rothwell School in Boston. He saw my resume on School Spring and wants me to come in for an interview."
"You're kidding! That is amazing!" Liz leaped off the couch and threw her arms around him. When she finally pulled back her smile was at full wattage, "When's the interview?"
"Saturday afternoon."
"That's perfect! I've always wanted to go to Boston. We could take off on Friday. You will do your interview on Saturday, and then we can go do the tourist thing." He briefly thought about trying to dissuade her, but honestly he couldn't think of one reason that won't sound suspicious.
"It's a plan. I'll go book the hotel." He started to walk away, but Liz grabbed his hand.
"Later," she said, pulling him back towards her, "First, I think we need to celebrate." She kissed him running her hands up his chest and wrapping them around his neck. He responded by picking her up and carrying her into their bedroom. He had no delusions. He was a bad guy, and odds were he wouldn't get "happily ever after". That just meant he'd have to make the most of "happily right now".