Notes: This is a direct companion piece to Getting it Right.

Risking the Ire

He never should have texted her. Hell, he shouldn't have even allowed himself to be alone with her. This woman - this Elizabeth Scott - was going to land him in more trouble than he knew how to handle. She was a job. He was supposed to protect her. That was it. Reddington, for all his vagueness, had been very specific in the fact that he wanted Jacob to remain at arm's length.

It hadn't been his fault that she had waited until they were the last two left. If he had gotten up and walked off, she would have been put at risk walking home alone, so that hadn't been an option either. So he had stayed, offering an ear that she so desperately needed to listen to her troubles about her newly dumped boyfriend. He hadn't expected her to kiss him. What's more, he hadn't expected himself to kiss her back.

Jacob had never been one to become emotionally entangled with his jobs. That was why Bud had recommended him. Cute girl needed to be protected without complications? Jacob Phelps was the best option. It had never happened before. Hell, he had dated women for jobs before and he had had no trouble cutting strings when it was over. It was a part he played.

That was why he had thought it was a fluke. A little too much alcohol and she was very pretty. She was smart and driven and... No. He couldn't let himself think like that. He had decided - after breaking down and texting her in a moment of weakness - that he would go on one date with her. He could flub a date. No problem. She wouldn't want to see him again and they could resume their down-the-table, one-person-removed sort of friendship, just as he'd signed up for. Just as he had been hired for.

He hadn't been able to do it, though. One date led to another and to another and Jacob was drawn to her, almost like he couldn't stop himself. The crazy thing was that all of his usual charms that he would have used on any other girl went out the window with Liz. He was awkward and hesitant, finding himself stumbling over his own words if he could find the right thing to say at all. For a trained operative it was embarrassing. Liz called it cute.

Jacob had never felt guilty for sleeping with a woman before. He hadn't planned it, of course, because he needed to end things before they got out of hand, but it had just happened. One minute they'd been watching a movie and the next... Well, there was no changing what they had done after it was done. He had woken up to find her gone, a text waiting to let him know that she was late for work. He had almost convinced himself that she was taking the easy way out and that he wouldn't see her again, but he had seen the heart she had drawn in the dust of his shoe and he knew. He knew that she had fallen. The dangerous truth was that he was on the same slippery slope.

The thought had kept him there for longer than it should have, sat down on the floor of his closet and staring at the shoe. Reddington was going to fire him, or worse. Bud would be pissed. It was unprofessional and would end up doing this girl more damage than she could ever deserve. He needed to end it before she got hurt.

And that had been it. The turning point. He had realized he didn't care what Reddington thought, or even the man that had raised him. He cared what this did to Elizabeth Scott and he didn't want to end the budding relationship. Reddington wouldn't notice for some time, and if Jacob was worthy of his clever reputation, he would figure out a way to convince the so-called Concierge of Crime to let him stay by that point. Anyway, a man that cared for Liz would protect her better than a man that didn't. It just made sense.

That was the furthest thing from his mind that morning, though. It was Saturday and they had been up late the night before. Jacob - Tom, he reminded himself, though if he were honest the reminder was coming less and less frequently as he grew more comfortable as Tom Keen - had been teaching himself to cook and Liz had volunteered to be his trial run. Apparently he had a hidden talent, and she had declared that he was welcome to cook any and all meals going forward. They had joked and laughed into the late hours, finishing off a bottle of wine before she had asked him to stay.

"Is that your phone?" came the groggy question from his side and blue eyes blinked blurrily open.

"Pretty sure it's yours."

Liz groaned. "People know not to call this early," she groused and reached for the cell on her bedside table.

Tom found himself smiling as he reached for his glasses. He had been surprised how easily he had gone back to them after so many years of wearing contacts. His decent mood was instantly jolted at the tone Liz took and he shot her a questioning look.

"I get that you're in the area, but now isn't really a good time. I know you're not over this way anymore and I- Seriously, Nick? That's where you're going with this?"

Tom winced and sat up slowly. "Coffee?" he offered, voice soft enough that it wouldn't interrupt what sounded like was becoming a heated conversation with her ex. She nodded briefly and he untangled himself from the sheets and grabbing for his t-shirt before he slipped out of the bedroom and into the living space that faded into the kitchen, Liz's frustrated voice following him.

He still was yet to meet her ex, though he had heard that the doctor hadn't taken well to the fact that she had turned down his proposal and then had almost immediately started dating Tom. Liz wasn't one to jump from one relationship directly into the next, so the speed in which they had grown close was likely the source if more than a few rumours. Normally it wasn't an issue, but it sounded like it might have been that morning.

Coffee helped most things in the morning, and if she had what he needed Tom thought breakfast wouldn't hurt either. He peeked into her fridge as coffee maker started heating the water and found it bare of anything useful. Okay, so maybe that pastry shop down the street. That could work too.

Liz let out a growl of frustration as she stormed through the living area and to the door, pulling a robe closer around her. She stopped, pulling in a deep breath, and Tom quirked an eyebrow and waited. He wasn't in the direct line of sight from the door, and he wasn't sure it would matter. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of Liz's frustration that morning. Maybe this woman didn't need protection after all. She was a little terrifying.

"I know this is inconvenient, Liz, but so is the fact that you couldn't just drop it by the hospital," a male voice drifted into the apartment, tight and almost as irritable as Liz's had been.

"You're not the only one that's busy, Nick," she answered and the coffee machine made a soft sound behind Tom, signaling that it was almost ready. He risked a glance back at it, and when he turned back around Nick was standing in the apartment and staring at him.

"This must be Tom," he grumbled, dark eyes studying him like he wanted to say more.

"Yes it is," Liz snapped and tossed what looked like a jacket at her former boyfriend. "That's the last thing."

"I guess it is," Nick said icily and turned, leaving Liz to shut the door behind him.

She leaned heavily on it, the irritable mood sluffing off of her as she loosed a long breath, leaving her drained looking. Tom's lips twitched downward as his mind worked through trying to assess her mood and risked a few steps forward. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she breathed out. "Sorry about that. He kept asking for that stupid jacket and I kept forgetting."

"Hey, don't apologize to me. You're the one he stressed out," Tom murmured, joining her in leaning.

She glanced up at him. "You know, every time you open your mouth I think I know a little more that I made the right decision."

Liz reached out, her fingers brushing his. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to it before lacing his fingers through hers. He could find himself in a lot of trouble. It might be years from then or it might be that very day, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care. Not if it meant he could stay with her. "I'm glad you did."

That pulled a small smile from her. "I haven't scared you off yet?"

"It'd take a whole lot more to scare me off," he answered honestly.

She shifted so that she was facing him, tipped up on her toes, and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was almost hesitant, like a confession, and Tom knew that he had never been cared for in this way - had never known that he should want it - and the dangerous truth tumbled from his lips without permission. "I love you."

He felt Liz tighten her grip on his hand and she pulled him back into the kiss, her free hand going to the back of his neck and his own tangling in her dark hair. Let Reddington come for him. Let Bud rant and rave and threaten. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. He had made his choice and he would risk their ire to be with her.

Notes: So, I totally snagged the title from Blacklister214 over on Tumblr, so thank you :)

The more the show hints at what all Tom has been risking for Liz (Reddington's wrath, the Major's, potentially Berlin's... possibly others) the more I love him. He really does continue to risk everything for her, and I imagine that, at this point, he would think the odds of him dying are probably a little higher than Liz taking him back, yet there he is. He comes as soon as he can. No questions. He's just there.