Deer on the Turnpike

It was about that time again, and like an idiot he had hoped the most recent attack would have been the last. There was something so comfortable in his life with Liz that it was easy to forget that he was an undercover operative that had refused to leave an assignment after falling in love with the woman he was only supposed to protect. Marrying her, apparently, had been the last straw and Reddington had started to send people after him. It was stupid and petty because Tom had offered to play the dangerous role of a double agent so that the Concierge of Crime could sleep easy knowing Liz was safe as well as receive information about Berlin that he couldn't have gotten anywhere else. Instead he hadn't bothered to even meet with him in person to discuss the arrangement - even after Tom had flown to France while he was supposed to be at his bachelor party - and had left a violent warning in place to drop it entirely.

Apparently Reddington thought his warnings would mean more to Tom than Liz did if they just kept coming. He was wrong.

He had been at the grocery store when he noticed, picking up what he needed to make dinner. He and Liz had planned a night in. It was going to be just them, Hudson, and a movie. Cell phones were going off, emails were being ignored, and it was just them. A half-assed tail following him through Whole Foods wasn't invited.

Tom kept his expression even as he went through the store as if he hadn't noticed a thing. He collected what he would have needed and kept the frustration of knowing that he couldn't go straight home to enjoy his Friday night with his wife under wraps as he set the basket down on a shelf and slipped down an aisle and out out of the tail's line of sight. He took another turn and started for the exit, glancing down at the phone that was buzzing in his hand. Liz's smiling face appeared on the screen and a small snort of irritation left him. He didn't dare answer it in case this guy was stupid enough to take a shot at him.

He got around to the car and slipped in. He would take a couple of laps around the block and when he was sure he'd lost him he could drop by the store over closer to their townhouse. It didn't have as good of a selection, but he hoped it also wouldn't have one of Reddington's thugs skulking about either.

Tom was about sure he had lost him until he reached a section of town that faded into warehouses. He glanced back in his rearview mirror and frowned. He really didn't want to deal with cleaning up the mess this guy would make tonight, but it didn't look like he would have much of a choice. If he didn't lose him here, it was going to get ugly.

The jeep he was driving sped up as he pushed down on the accelerator and his tail followed. Tom cut the corner sharply to the right, then to the left, handling the vehicle better than a fourth grade teacher should have known how. The movements weren't nearly as smooth as they would have been if he had been in his choice vehicle, but Liz had only rolled her eyes when he had brought up buying a Mustang and they had settled on the Jeep instead. So when he slammed it into reverse and backed it into a dark alley, he thought he was lucky he didn't take the bumper off of it.

The undercover operative sat there for a moment, gathering himself. His phone began buzzing again and he switched it off, slipping out of the car. He wanted to avoid leaving marks on it that he couldn't explain, but if he just waited in it with the engine off he was asking for trouble. He slipped around the side, cursing the fact that he wasn't armed, and waited.

There were no headlights, or even the sound of tires moving down the street, but after a moment there were very quiet footsteps and Tom flattened himself against the wall to catch his tail by surprise. He closed his eyes, counting the number of steps the man was taking, and waited until the last possible second.

He was about to cross the alley when the dark haired operative leapt out. Surprise was on his side and Tom moved fast, the first blow to the wrist sending the gun in the man's hand skidding, the second to the nose sending him stumbling, and the third to the ribs had him staggering against the brick wall. He recovered quickly enough, though, and kicked out, a heavy boot catching Tom in the middle and knocking the breath from him.

His assailant moved quickly and they dodged each other's attacks. The man was bigger than Tom, and fast, reminding the operative just how complacent he had become in married life. He was normally very okay with that, at least until he had to defend himself.

The taller man got ahold of Tom's arm and used the momentum to swing him around. He landed hard against the front bumper of his own vehicle and he was pretty sure that was going to leave a mark.

He didn't have time to recover, though, as the man came at him again, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and hauling him up. A solid blow to the man's knee pulled a grunt of pain from him and Tom swung around, breaking the hold.

They scrambled for a moment and he had to wonder where Reddington dug these guys up. He just wasn't going to stop, and Tom hadn't realized just how out of practice he was. He went for the gun, lunging forward and reaching out, but his attacker caught him and he was thrown back, rolling over the hood of the car and he heard a crack that he really preferred turned out to be the windshield rather than his back.

He picked himself up, frowning at the thin fracture left across the windshield. Well, now he'd have to explain it. It was beyond time to finish this.

Tom might be a little out of shape compared to the habits he usually kept on other assignments, but he was still quick. He got his feet under him and used the hood to jump from. The blow was deflected, but the second one wasn't and he slammed a knee into the man's gut and a hard punch to the jaw that had him off balance. The next kick took him to the ground.

Calmly he turned, taking advantage of the brief lag in the fight, and he opened the car door and hopped back in. It was time to send a message to Reddington. He wasn't going anywhere, so he might as well stop sending his thugs after him. He'd made the mistake of letting the last one go to say just that. This guy wouldn't get the chance.

The engine turned over as the man was staggering back to his feet. The damage was already done to the vehicle. A little more wasn't going to change that. He pressed down on the accelerator and the Jeep jumped forward. Reddington's messenger didn't have a chance to jump out of the way as he was caught by the front bumper and slammed up and across the hood of the vehicle, nearly coming through the windshield with the force of the blow.

The airbag popped out, but didn't catch him as badly as it could have. It would, though, account for some of the bruising he'd sustained during the fight. He adjusted his glasses and stepped back out, leaving the engine running as he checked to make sure the man really was dead. He sighed as he checked, finding no pulse. So much for a quiet night at home.

Liz slammed the phone down as Tom's voice mail filled her ear, and she was a breath away from calling the police. He had told her he was running errands this evening, but had expected to be home about the time she was. When she had gotten home to find Hudson looking up regretfully over his accident on the floor and no sign of her husband in sight, she had tossed her study materials down and had called. Nothing. It had rolled to voicemail. She had tried several more times and gotten the same. It wasn't like him to ignore her calls, so something must have happened.

She was ready to start calling around to friends next when she heard keys in the front door. She nearly flattened herself on the floor as quickly as she piled off the couch. "Tom? Where have you... Babe?"

He blinked at her, looking tired and frustrated and a little beat up. "Did you know there are deer on the Turnpike this time of year, because I sure as hell didn't," he grumbled, tossing his keys into the bowl so hard that they kicked right back out the other side. He glared at them, but didn't bother to pick them up.

"You hit a deer?" Liz asked. The absurdity of it would have been funny if he didn't look like he'd taken the painful end of the airbag. She reached forward, thumb running along a scrape across his cheekbone and he winced. "Are you okay? What happened? I've been calling."

"I'm sorry, I guess I didn't hear it. It just came out of nowhere and I've been dealing with it. I'm going to have to call the insurance company in the morning. That's going to be a fun conversation."

Liz frowned at the thought. "Are you okay?" she asked again. "You weren't hurt were you?"

"It hit pretty hard, but I'm okay. Just going to be feeling it in the morning."

Her hand was still against his cheek and his expression softened as he reached up and took it, turning it over to press a kiss to her palm. "I'm okay, Lizzy. Promise."

"How's the car?"

He cringed. "Not good." He motioned and she followed, a sinking feeling in her stomach as she saw the damage.

"Was it a buck?"

"Yeah."

"Damn, babe. You're lucky he didn't come through the window."

"Almost did."

"Is that blood on...? Eww." She circled around the jeep and these were the crazy moments that she was thrilled she had put her foot down when Tom had wanted a sports car. What if he'd been driving something that small? She would be getting a call from the hospital that night or worse. The thought made her forget the fact that they would likely be car shopping that weekend and she turned, moving back to him and wrapping her arms around his middle to hold tight.

His arms came slowly around her, almost hesitant. "I'm sorry, Liz. I'll take care of it all. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"I'm not worried about the car, you idiot," she managed and her voice was breaking just a little. "I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. You have to be more careful."

"Oh babe," he breathed. "It's okay. I'm okay. You don't have to worry about that." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere."

Liz pulled in a deep breath, steadying herself to release him. "I know," she said tightly. "I love you."

"Love you too." He offered her a tight smile. "So, I know you were looking forward to homemade pizza and movie night, but you think we could settle for ordering in and movie night? I didn't get a chance to get the fixings for dinner."

"I think we could make that work," Liz answered with a smile and wrapped an arm around his waist as they walked back inside. Her imagination had come up with a lot of crazy things that could have gone wrong that evening, and while hitting a deer on the turnpike hadn't made the list, it could have been just as dangerous as anything else she had come up with. The car could be replaced - they would have to dip into savings, but it could be replaced - but her husband could not. She barely let go of him the rest of the evening, but he didn't complain. They found comfort in what followed as a quiet night at home after the chaos, and she was just happy to have him safe and with her.

Notes: So, there was a request, but I was already feeding the plot bunny :) How could I not? Tom sounded so offended by the fact that after everything, she still assumed it was a deer he'd hit.