Choosing Her

Oh, I don't love you

But I always will

Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars

His life had never been simple, but even he could see that this was going to get messy. He'd been hired for a simple enough task: protect the girl. He'd been doing that job well for the past five months, but when he received a coded message from Bill McCready, he knew nothing good could come of it. He was getting a secondary assignment: one that would use his connection already formed to put him in a prime position in an organization run by a man that called himself Berlin. The problem was - as he dug quietly deeper - the two goals would eventually conflict. Berlin would use the connection and then dispose of Elizabeth Scott.

The precarious situation made him uneasy enough to break one of their most important rules and he reached out to the man that had saved his life so many years before.

Tom sat in the back of the bar in a place that the man that Liz was dating likely wouldn't know existed. It was dingy and dank and he'd have to have a long shower before going over to her place for dinner that night. When he'd first stepped into her life he had wondered if even his skills would be up to the challenge of the quaint little life she was determined to make for herself. It hadn't taken long to realize that she wanted the husband, the house, the dog, and the kids. She wanted a life very different from the line of work she had landed in, and he had thought he might be bored to tears trying to become that for her.

Five months in, he found himself uncomfortable with cutting ties and running. It was a new feeling that he didn't have a clue what to do with.

Bill slid into the booth across from him, beer already in hand. "I'm not pulling you just yet."

Tom frowned. So he was thinking about pulling him. "Why the hell would you put me on two conflicting assignments?"

His mentor didn't blink at the rough tone. Instead he pulled a pack of cigarettes out and tossed them on the table. Tom waved them off and leveled a glare that demanded answers. This was his ass on the line and he wouldn't be the one landing in all the trouble that double crossing Raymond Reddington - because from the sound of it, that's exactly what would happen - would bring. "They're not conflicting unless you make them conflicting. Berlin wants you and he's willing to pay for it."

"I've heard of this guy. He won't leave her alive at the end of it."

The man that they called the Major snorted. "That's some time away, Tom. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"So what? We're playing both sides?"

"It's not something beyond you. I'd only put one of my best on this. You know that."

"You're going to get me killed," Tom growled lowly. True, it was a dangerous game on any day - and double crossing the Concierge of Crime for a certain amount of money may not have been something he would have done on his own, but in the end it really was just business - but something deep inside of him rebelled against the idea of putting Liz in the line of fire. He told himself that it was just the idea of leaving a job unfinished, and while he was a good liar, even he couldn't lie to himself quite that convincingly.

"You'll be fine. You always are," Bill said easily as he lit a cigarette from the offered pack. "Just keep the girl close. Berlin will want her and you'll need to be able to provide what the client wants."

"Just not the first client."

That pulled a frown from the older man. "You want off the assignment? There's a line out the door willing to take the risk for the payout this one has."

For just a moment Tom considered it. He could take a step back. Bill would be pissed and he'd likely have to take a few crap jobs before he was forgiven, but he wouldn't be put in the situation that he was staring at in the face. If he wanted to walk away right then, he had the choice. He simply wouldn't show up that night and he certainly wouldn't go through with the plan he'd been tossing around in his head. He'd leave her and he wouldn't have to betray her.

But then someone else would, and Bill would make damn sure they didn't get attached. They would kill her and Tom would be off wherever he'd been shuffled, unable to do a damn thing about it.

"How much?" he asked after a moment, doing what he could to conceal his own thoughts.

"Double again what Red's already paid."

He sighed, knocking down the last gulp of beer. "Fine."

"You still on track?"

"Do you really need to ask me that? She thinks my whole world revolves around her. She's going to keep thinking that until I decide it's time to end it."

Bill's lips twitched upward. "Good kid," he praised and Tom stood.

"Back to her perfect little world," he grumbled, but couldn't help but feel like he was running towards it rather than forcing himself reluctantly back in. Bill didn't need to know that, though. Not until he figured out what the hell he was going to do.

When Tom Keen had been Jacob Phelps he had had nothing. Passed from one foster home to the next, written off by every shrink he saw, he'd started to believe that there was nothing for him. He was broken, and no amount of trying to be better would fix that.

Then he had met Bill and he'd given him purpose. He had given him a new name and had trained him to be more than he could ever have imagined. The money didn't matter really. He'd always been able to get by. Bill had given him somewhere to belong and had made him better. Their assignments weren't always what most of society would have considered decent work - they all knew how to get their hands dirty - but they did good work too. Tom had been hired to protect Elizabeth Scott and was inclined to think she was worth protecting.

He wasn't sure how long he stood at her door, a bag of groceries in each hand, thinking about the fact that he could one day be ordered to completely abandon his first mission for the second. Berlin was ruthless and once Liz had served her purpose, she would just be a loose end.

The door opened in front of him and he found himself blinking at her from behind tortoiseshell rimmed glasses. "Hi."

"You planning on standing there all day or were you going to knock?" Liz laughed, the sound tugging a rare pang of guilt from him. She was so happy, so in love. The problem that he was having an increasingly difficult time ignoring was that she might not be the only one.

That was the only way he managed an awkward, almost flustered smile. "I... Uh... My hands were full and I... Well I was thinking?" That wasn't supposed to be a question. He wasn't supposed to actually be flustered. This was a mistake. He needed out.

"About what?" she asked suggestively.

"You."

"Right answer," Liz teased and stepped back, making room for him to come in.

Tom pulled in a steadying breath and crossed over the threshold of her apartment. They had talked about moving in together, but it hadn't happened yet. So they had their quickly-formed tradition. Liz got the wine - or the beer, depending on what was planned - and Tom got the food. She'd admitted early on that she wasn't much of a cook, but she'd waited a month in to prove it. After putting out what could have quickly turned into a kitchen fire she had jokingly asked him if she'd scared him off yet. As they had sat on the floor of her studio apartment, windows open and foregoing the badly burnt dinner for the unopened bottle of wine, he'd had to fight off the strange feeling that clawed at him for the first time. In the months since, he'd almost come to appreciate it. They were a strangely welcome change to what he usually felt. That was until days like this one had been.

"You okay, babe?" Liz asked from her place at the counter, uncorking the wine.

"Yeah, I'm just distracted, I guess. Sorry."

"Rough day at work?"

They'd put him in an elementary school as a teacher and, like his life as Elizabeth Scott's boyfriend, he didn't find it quite as dull as he'd expected. "Pretty sure that one of the kids' parents had an aneurism over grades today."

"Maddis Parkins' mom?" Liz asked and Tom grimaced.

"How did you know?"

"Lucky guess. I feel like you have a new story from her every week."

That pulled a chuckle from him and he set the bags of food on the counter as he shrugged his jacket off. A thunk caught his attention and his gaze followed the sound. Liz was, apparently, was just a little quicker.

"What's this?" she asked as she stooped to pick up the small box that had fallen to her wood floor and Tom was fairly certain his heart stopped. He hadn't decided yet. He'd bought it before he had received the second assignment. When his only directive had been protect the girl. When it wasn't all doomed to end in a fiery explosion with Liz's perfect little world buried in the same muck as his own. Now, he didn't know what to do. Now the choice had to be made immediately. He could snatch the tiny little box and just leave, offering no explanation as he called Bill and told him he was done. Tell him that he that he cared for Elizabeth Scott - no, no no! - but that would doom her as well, and a few hours between his understanding of that in the bar and looking into those wide, blue eyes as she stared at the box, carefully reaching to open it didn't change a damn thing.

"Is this what I think it is?" Liz asked him in a tiny voice.

Jacob Phelps had been told he was broken when he was young, and that his emotions didn't quite work right and never would, but as Tom Keen stood in that little apartment and stared down at the woman he was being paid to protect and pretend to love, he knew that had been a lie. He couldn't go. He couldn't leave her. He didn't have a choice, but he still wanted to choose her. He could figure out how to make his two assignments co-exist later. Just for a little while, he wanted to feel something real, even if it was supposed to be fake.

"I… um… I think I'm supposed to be the one on one knee?" he offered and gave a tiny grin that made her laugh as she sprang up, wrapping her arms around his neck and nearly taking them both crashing to the ground.

"No wonder you've been so weird," she laughed in his ear and squeezed tighter. "Is this really it, Tom? Are you really asking?"

"Well, I hadn't figured out exactly how yet, so… but yes." He finally remembered to wrap his arms around her and as he pulled in a breath. Her scent followed and he buried his nose in the crook of her neck, pulling her up into his arms and smiling. "I wanted it to be perfect, so I've had it for a while."

"It is. It's perfect," Liz promised and kissed him. She didn't break away as her hands brushed through his shortly cropped hair and his found the side of her face as the kiss deepened. He loved her. He wasn't supposed to and he could never admit it to Bill, but he loved this woman. Somehow, he had to find a way to spend the rest of his life with her.

They finally broke, both out of breath and he couldn't stop grinning. "So, you'll marry me, huh?"

Liz whacked his arm hard and he drew back, feigning a wince. "Of course I'll marry you. I love you."

She offered the open box back to him and stretched out her hand. The ring felt heavy between his fingers, but it was right somehow. He didn't know how he knew, but it was. "I love you," he confessed, his voice low and strained as he slipped the ring on her left finger, the truth ringing in the words.

Lizzy hadn't stopped smiling. "I'm suddenly not very hungry."

"Yeah?" he chuckled, catching her less than subtle hint as she kissed him again.

This was his job and now it was also his life. He knew this could end badly, but if she could just keep smiling like that, if they could stay by each other's side, he thought his life might be even more than he'd known he could hope for. He could choose her.

Notes: So, my theories about Tom's true employment were blown out of the water last Thursday, but that's okay. I'm slowly warming to the idea.

Thank you to everyone that has made a request! I'm taking each one and letting them roll around in my brain a little, hoping that a plot bunny grows teeth and latches. :)