Drinking Games

It had been some time since she had just taken an evening to unwind. Even before the Cabal had set her up to look like a traitor worthy of Reddington's blacklist she hadn't had a moment to breathe in ages. Now that she thought about it, not since the man that was currently sitting across from her had been outed as more than he pretended to be. There they were, though, after over a year of separation, and she had managed to slip away from the chaos long enough to come see him.

Tom looked more relaxed than Liz had seen him in just as long. He sat on the deck of his boat with his back against the side and a beer in hand. He seemed to feel her gaze studying at him and he cracked an eye open. "How long is Reddington letting you stay this time?"

His voice was surprisingly light and she weighed for a moment if she thought he was keeping it that way or if he really had come to accept the fact that both he and Red were going to be constants in her life. Either way, she knew she missed him between the relatively rare visits, and she was pretty sure he felt the same. She certainly understood the frustration. "He promised to give me as long as he thought was safe."

"So about five minutes?" Tom teased, a smirk playing at his lips and his ex wife rolled her eyes.

"I came all this way. He better give me at least until ten tomorrow morning." She watched him smile and shifted, setting her own beer down and got to her feet. "Let's play a drinking game. You have anything harder?"

Blue eyes blinked open and she could feel him watching her as she went for the built in chest in the deck. "Not in there," he said and she glanced back just in time to see a bit of mischief flash through his eyes. "Thinking about getting me drunk, Lizzy?"

That pulled a laugh from her. "Yeah? With your tolerance?"

"Because you don't have any tolerance at all," he chuckled. Slowly he got his feet under him and stood, moving down below deck. Liz didn't follow, but finished the beer in her hand and tossed it into the trash bin. He returned a couple of minutes later with what looked like whiskey and a couple of small glasses. "What sort of drinking game?"

"Truth or drink."

Tom blinked at her. "Do I even want to know?"

Her smile only grew as she took one of the glasses and pulled the whiskey bottle from his hand. "We ask each other questions and we have two options: either we answer the question honestly or we take a shot." She shot him a pointed look. "But you have to be honest. I'll know if you're not."

"Depends on how much you've had to drink," he teased and raised his hands in mock surrender. "I get it, though. Can I add a rule?"

"Maybe."

"Don't ask anything you don't want the answer to."

After a moment she nodded. "Fair enough." She motioned for his glass and he held it out for her to pour a bit of the whiskey into it and then filled her own with the same. They retook their seats, though Tom didn't look quite as relaxed as he had before. She sat across from him, gaze studying, and a small smirk playing on her lips. She was a profiler and he was a deep cover operative trained in reading people. This could be either very enlightening or very terrifying. She hoped they'd come far enough for it to be the former. Anyway, she was fairly certain that he hadn't done anything that she couldn't handle at this point.

"You want to start or do you want me to?"

"I will. Let's start with something easy…" Her mind whirled for something relatively innocent. There was no need to get in too deep before they had a few shots down. "When was the first time you realized I was more than a job?"

She watched him, and he looked away a little. Liz hadn't been accusing him of anything, and, as best she could fathom, the fact that he had seen her as more than a job was what had gotten them to this point. She had about decided that she had already asked the wrong question when a small smile perked his lips and those blue eyes of his flickered up to meet hers. "When I couldn't walk away that first night. You remember? You were venting about Nick and I should have found some excuse to slip away, especially when you gave me your number. I shouldn't have called, I should have just dropped it, but I couldn't. I didn't even sleep that night because all I could think of was you."

A warmth spread through her and she found herself smiling too. "Jerk."

He blinked, confused. "What?"

"It's your turn. Is that your question?"

"No," he snapped, shooting her a look that was half amused, half caught in an almost-slip. "Just to clarify… is anything off limits?"

"If it is, I guess we'll just drink."

"Fair." He grinned at her. "Who doesn't like pancakes?"

Liz rolled her eyes. "They're gross. I don't know. Why don't you like beats?"

"No one likes beats."

"That's not true at all."

Tom grinned and went ahead knocked back his drink. "What? I thought we were supposed to drink when we said something that wasn't true? Not the way it works?"

"I'm going to throw you overboard."

"No you're not. You'd have to come rescue me."

"True."

They went back and forth, some of the questions light and teasing, some serious. There were a lot of little things that she wondered if they were true or not. Was his birthday really his birthday? Were any of the times that he left for teaching conferences or anything of the sort really for what he claimed, or was he running ops under her nose? Was he ever worried that she would find out? Had she ever come close and never realized it?

He answered those questions, too. Some took a couple of minutes for him to put things into words, but he answered every one of them. Liz knew she should feel a little guilty about it, because there were definitely some that she took the shot for. Questions about Reddington and about if she ever saw any of their friends after everything fell apart. He asked one about the adoption and she took two shots for that. One to avoid the question and one to try to wipe it from her mind.

The sun had set and she was fairly certain that Tom had been sipping on his own drink if for nothing else than to make sure that he would keep answering any of the tougher questions that she came up with. Finally, she heaved a sigh and tucked her legs under her, coming up on her knees and watching him very carefully. He blinked at her, but otherwise didn't move. "It's your turn," he reminded her gently and she wanted to tell him that she wasn't that drunk yet.

Instead she just asked her question. "How do you handle it so well?"

"That's really vague, Liz," he chuckled, sipping at his drink.

She swallowed hard, and had she not been drinking, the question never would have made it past all of her emotional guards. "I shot you and held you captive in the bottom of a boat and you… You still came back for me. You never talk about it. It's like… Do you just ignore it? Is that it?"

His expression closed off almost instantly and he reached for the bottle, poured himself a shot, and took it.

"Tom…"

"Those are the rules," he said tightly. "You've had a few you wouldn't answer. Give me my one."

She scooted forward and he didn't move away as she came to sit next to him against the side, not quite touching him. "Ask your question."

He cleared his throat. "Where's… uh… where's Hudson been? I didn't see him last time I went by your motel."

"Aram's watching him. Do you think about it?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Yes," he snapped.

"Do you-"

"It's not your turn, Liz."

His voice was cold, and instead of putting her on edge like it would have done in more recent months, all it did was hurt. She reached forward, taking his hand and he looked over to her with an expression she couldn't quite place. "Please, Tom."

Something flickered through his gaze and she bit her lip, remembering his own request at the diner. "Why… don't you even try?" he whispered, voice soft and a little pained.

"Try what?"

"To call me Jacob."

"Because you're Tom to me. I met you as Tom, I fell in love with you as Tom, and I just… Does it really bother you?"

"Yes."

She pulled in a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "It's just a name."

"It's my name. I don't share it with people, but I gave it to you because… you're different. I want you to have it because you're different."

"I didn't think it would mean that much to you."

"It does."

She squeezed his hand. "Okay. I'll try then."

"Really?"

"Yeah." She chewed on her bottom lip a little. "I love you. I don't care what your name is."

"You love me?"

The smallness of his voice was something that reminded her just how much damage she could do to him if she wasn't careful. "I do." She smiled, rolling her eyes a little playfully and giving him a light shove. "Of course I do."

He smiled at that and it was small and real. He drank what was left in his glass and held tightly to her fingers that were still wrapped around his. "I have nightmares about it," he said softly. "Every once and a while. I know... that it wasn't you and that you were in too deep, but yeah, I think about it."

Liz reached up and pulled his head around so he was facing her. Slowly, carefully, she leaned up and pressed a kiss against his lips. "I'm sorry," she breathed.

"Me too."

She swallowed hard. He'd given her the answer she was looking for, and she knew that he deserved at least one in return. "Reddington put me on an adoption case right before I called it off. The guy… His adopted parents didn't know how to handle him and he turned out to be a complete nutjob. I was so scared…" She took a steadying breath and Tom - Jacob - wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "I was so scared that I would screw up some poor kid, you know? How could I live with myself?"

He didn't say anything for a long few moments, only pressed a kiss against the side of her head and held on tightly to her. Finally, when he did, his voice was tight as if he were barely holding himself together. "You'd have loved him. You'd have been the best mom."

She breathed out a soft laugh. "But not now. After all of this, they'd never let us adopt, would they?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"You wanted to give a kid the chance you never got, didn't you?"

"I guess so."

Liz nudged him softly in the ribs, glancing up at him. "You're a better guy than you know, Jacob."

"Yeah, well, you know how to bring it out," he chuckled. "It's getting late. You want to head downstairs?"

"Had enough truth for one night?" she teased and he stood, offering her a hand up. She swayed a little and he steadied her. She didn't want to leave the next morning when Red came to get her. As impractical as it might be, she wanted to stay. He could keep her safe, even if Red could make her disappear without a trace. After everything that had happened, she didn't want to be away from the man she loved any longer. "Maybe Red doesn't have to come get me?"

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "I love you, but I know you won't say that in the morning."

"Someday, though? When this is all over?"

"Someday," he promised as she crawled into the bed. "If that's what you want."

He joined her and Liz nestled in close. "I want you."

"And you have me, even if we're on opposite sides of the world."

"Truth?"

"Yep," he chuckled and wrapped an arm around her. "I love you."

"Love you too," she whispered, feeling sleep tug on her. Just for tonight she was safe and happy. Maybe she couldn't pretend that none of it had happened, but that was okay. She couldn't go back, but at least they could go forward.

Notes:So I watched Beside Still Waters a couple of days ago, and while I didn't think that Whiskey Slap was a good life choice for Tom and Liz to play, I couldn't get the idea of them playing a drinking game out of my head. I love the idea too much.