Need You Now

They had talked about going to Paris a couple times. They could have gone some summer during the stretch between when classes ended and in-teacher services began. Liz had said she could take a week or two and it would just be them. No work, no stress, just two people that loved each other.

It had never happened, of course. Work got in the way and then Tom... Liz sighed heavily, leaning against railing on the bridge and looking out onto the city. It was lit up, beautiful and exciting. He'd been there at least once, if she were to believe his passport, but as she stood gazing out over the city she couldn't help but wonder if he'd seen it like this. Or if he'd come in, killed whoever he was supposed to kill, and left.

She leaned against the railing, people moving behind her as she stood alone on the bridge over the Seine. Since leaving with Red she had seen places that she could only dream about on her FBI agent's budget. Many were places that she and Tom had talked about distantly, but simply hadn't gotten to it. That night, though, she found her thoughts lingering on her ex more than usual. If she were honest, she'd been thinking about him for a while now.

Three days before she'd reached out at the last number she had for him. The call had been prompted by a glass or two too many of wine and Dembe's phone. At least he had understood her wish to hear Tom's voice after so long and not really having a chance for a proper goodbye before she went in the run. Red wouldn't have. He never did.

The phone had rung and rung, connecting with a voicemail that had not been set up. She had no way to know if that were even his number still, or if he had had to ditch the phone for another in his run from his former employer. She was left with no way to contact him and, as far as she knew, he had no way to contact her even if he could. Even if the worst hadn't happened.

Now she was in Paris. Alone. Red had offered to walk with her, but she had turned him down. She didn't want to explain to him why and he had known better than to ask. At least there was that.

"Il est plus jolie la nuit, n'est-çe pas?"

Liz straightened, blinking as she turned and her mind was so busy trying to translate the French directed at her that she hadn't stopped to recognize the voice that had spoken it. He was smiling at her, a little hesitant, but it was real, and very much unexpected. "The lights at night," he translated into English, motioning towards them. "I always preferred Paris at night. Not that I ever really got a choice when I came here before."

"Tom," Liz finally managed, finding her voice. She looked around, eyes wide.

"It's fine. No one followed me here."

She barely was able to nod her understanding. "Am I dreaming?"

That pulled a laugh from him. It was that quiet chuckle that she had always loved. "You dream about me coming to find you, Liz?" he asked, his voice light and teasing.

"Sometimes," she answered honestly. "I was just thinking about how we never got here."

"And here we are," her ex husband said, blue eyes darting in her direction. He shifted so that he was facing her and he ducked his head a little as he pulled a long stemmed rose from behind his back and handed it to her.

Liz took it slowly, wondering if her expression was mirroring the strange fluttering feeling that was working its way through her. "What's this for?" she asked, her voice steadier than she expected.

Tom ducked his head, looking a little embarrassed as he tried to explain. "We always talked about coming here for something special. I...know I missed your call a few days ago. I had to ditch the phone right after that, but I caught wind that you were going to be in the area and-"

"You keeping tabs on me?" Liz asked, a small smile working its way to the corners of her lips.

"Just want you to be able to get ahold of me if you ever need me," he murmured, voice rushed and suddenly his boots had his gaze. He really was embarrassed. This man that had loved her in a way that she still wasn't sure she fully understood, had been married to her, and had forgiven...so much, he was embarrassed that his romantic gesture seemed to be falling short. She was sure that he was smooth enough when the time called for it, but the awkwardness had never been an act. It was still as endearing as the day she'd met him.

Liz leaned forward, nose buried in the rose and she looked up over it at him. "Why now?"

He looked up, blinking owlishly at her, and he looked just a little hurt. "It's... You don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?"

"What today is."

"Tom, I'm not sure I even know what the date of today is I've been running around so much," Liz laughed, turning to resume her leaning, rose held so that she could still smell it.

He was watching her and finally seemed convinced that she wasn't about to tell him to leave. A small smile appeared and he leaned his back against the railing so that he could look at her. "You'd just broken up with Nick and we were both out with the same group at the bar down from your apartment..."

"And you walked me home," Liz finished, the fluttering sensation coming back. "I kissed you on my porch..."

Tom flashed her a smile. "And I called you as soon as I got back to my place. I couldn't help it. I'd never... I didn't understand it then, all I knew was that I couldn't stop myself."

"That's been... Five years today?"

He nodded, blue gaze sweeping over the crowd and he was likely looking for any trouble. Funny, she had always thought he was just an avid people watcher.

"So much has happened," Liz breathed.

"Good and bad," he reminded her without pause, the weight on the first word instead of the last. Leave it to Tom to push things aside and focus on what he loved about her. They hadn't taken the time to talk about it since he'd swooped in and helped to save her from the harbor master case. Red had gotten shot, Tom had been helping her find information about her mother, and then… everything else had happened. Life just hadn't stopped for ten seconds for two people that had once been so close to talk about the good and the bad. She wondered if he'd thought about it out on his boat and if the loneliness was getting to him to.

"If you had to go through it all again, would you?" Her voice was small and she tried to push the images from his time as her prisoner from her mind. He could have died there and it would have been her fault.

He tilted his head a little. "It's going to sound really selfish if I say yes, isn't it?" he chuckled after a moment of thought. "But I promised I wouldn't lie to you."

Liz smiled and reached out, her fingers touching his hand and she looked up to meet his eyes. They were the same ones that she found watching her with a sort of curiosity mixed with love when they had been married. It had always been cute, and now she thought maybe she understood the curiosity a little better. She had loved him like no one else had, and he hadn't fully been able to understand that. He had wanted to, she thought, and tried, but he never would fully understand it until she knew him, and not just the parts he wanted her to know. He leaned down, the moment drawing them together, and he was close enough that she could feel his breath on her when she whispered his name. "Tom?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not..."

He pulled back instantly, his expression blanking out in a way that she hated. It was a defence mechanism, she knew, and one that made her breath catch as he shook his head. "I'm sorry. I thought... I misread the situation."

"No, you didn't," she said quickly, catching hold of his wrist before he could leave. He turned, his eyes large and a little hopeful. It only served to make her feel guilty. She needed to warn him. He was trying so damn hard to be honest with her, and he deserved the same in return. "Tom, I... It's me, it's not you. This has... it's changed me. I'm not the woman you fell in love with."

"I don't have a lot of room to talk about that," he answered, his voice strained but teasing. He flipped his hand over in her grasp, his fingers touching the underside of her wrist and slipping back to hold her hand. "People change, Liz. That's life. We adapt. If you hadn't, you wouldn't have survived. You're still you-"

"I killed a man, Tom," Liz snapped in a desperate whisper. "In cold blood. He didn't have a gun he just...he was going to.."

"He was going to what?" Tom asked gently.

"He was threatening everyone, but I should have brought him in. Instead I took the easy way out."

"This is that Connolly guy?"

"You heard?" she whispered, hating that she knew the answer. Liz had wondered if he might finally decide he was done with this mess when he heard what she had done. Tom seemed to hold her in higher regard than she did herself these days, and even though he'd been a complete bastard about it at the time, she thought he seemed rather satisfied that she had been unwilling to kill an innocent man to save herself. A part of her had wondered if that view would change once he knew about Connolly.

"Yeah, it's been all over the news." He glanced around, checking their surroundings. "You did what you needed to to protect the people you care about. That's all. Sometimes things get...complicated when you do, but it doesn't make you any less of who you are."

Liz's breath escaped her in a laugh. "Complicated has become my life. Tom.." She stopped, finding him close again. He still loved her. She could see it in his eyes, in every part of his expression. Despite everything, this man still loved her.

She tipped up in her toes, free hand working its way around the back of his neck and drawing him into the kiss. He moved towards her willingly and she felt one hand work its way through her freshly dyed blonde hair, the other holding her hand tightly in his own. "Jacob," she breathed as they broke and he seemed startled by his real name tumbling from her. She smiled. "You told me-"

"I know. You just hadn't."

"I want to know you."

He grinned at that, the smile reaching his eyes. "Really?"

"Really," she affirmed and reached up, fingers ghosting across his face and he leaned into her touch. She smiled. "So are you fluent in French or were you just showing off?"

"Both," he chuckled, running a hand through his hair in a nervous habit he'd always had.

"How many languages do you know anyway?"

"A few. Why don't I tell you about it over dinner? Have you eaten yet?"

"Are you asking me out on a date in Paris?" she teased.

"Well, you did kind of stand me up on our dinner date before you left," he answered lightly.

"You mean when I got framed for being a Russian sleeper agent?"

"Yeah, well, it's a decent excuse at least," Tom - Jacob - chuckled. "Let me take you to dinner before Reddington figures out you're with me and orders you whisked off to whatever corner of the world is next."

"Or your handler finds out you're here?"

"Or that."

"We really are complicated, aren't we?"

He shrugged, pulling her knuckles up to his lips to press a kiss to the back of her hand. "I think it's worth it."

Liz smiled and picked her rose up from where she had set it on the railing. "I hope you have a place picked out."

"Might have reservations at this little place," he said with a small smile.

Liz choked on a laugh and popped him on the shoulder. "Sure of your charms, aren't you?"

"Hopeful that you still love me as much as I love you," he answered seriously, linking her arm through his.

She leaned her head against his arm as they walked, pulling in a deep breath. "I think I do," she answered as honestly as she knew how. She glanced up to see him smiling like he was the happiest man in the world. She shook her head a little and held on to him. They might only have the evening for all she knew, but it was theirs, just like the one five years before. In the midst of all of the insanity that had become the everyday, she thought that maybe they might be able to enjoy that. "Jacob?"

"Hmm?"

"You said you were keeping tabs on me so that if I needed you-"

"It's nothing that would put you in danger, Liz, I promise. I just followed up because I couldn't answer your call and-"

"Stop," she laughed, moving so that her arm was around his waist and his moved around her shoulders. "I was just going to say… I needed you tonight and you were here."

His grip tightened on her. "Any time, Liz."

There were a lot of differences between Tom and Jacob, but the safety she felt with him was the same. It had wavered along with her faith in him, but it could be rebuilt. She wanted to rebuild it, because she loved him. They could figure the rest out as they went along.

Notes: This is dedicated to an awesome Anon over on the Tumblr Blacklist RP that decided that Jacob and Liz needed a getaway in Paris. Whoever you are, Anon, you're awesome.