Talismans

She had almost everything unpacked. It had taken her long enough, but her apartment was actually set up the way she liked it with photos and lamps and small decorations that made it feel like home. Liz hadn't thought another place could feel like home after she had sold the townhouse, packing up the memories of a life that had been left behind by the FBI sweeping in to investigate Tom after everything had come out. There were many things that were still missing from that and many more that were still somehow locked away from when they had turned their sights on her as a potential terrorist, but a few things had survived. Photos of she and Sam had found frames and places on shelves, books that she might actually find time to read once the baby was born, and a few odds and ends that had been stored away. It was nice, that feeling that everything was put together.

That was why the loan box was bothering her so badly.

Liz glared at it from her place on the couch. She had promised Tom that she would rest if he would do the same - two days home from the hospital and not even off his pain meds yet and he was convinced that he needed to be up and doing things for her - and she was fairly certain that attacking that box to find out what was in it wouldn't pass as resting. A short sigh left her, almost a huff, as she leaned around a little, listening hard for any signs that her ex-husband was awake or stirring in the bedroom. She didn't hear anything, and finally she set the book she had been trying to read for the last half hour down on the coffee table and swung her feet around, easing herself up. The baby gave a small kick and she felt her smile take hold like it wouldn't go away. She waited, hoping to feel it again, but after a moment of silence from her little one she started towards the box.

She didn't remember it, and as she knelt down next to it she saw that it wasn't marked with anything. The corners were a little frayed like it had been moved around a lot, and instead of being taped together the lid was folded in. Liz frowned a little, tugging the flaps open. She had been very careful to mark everything that she had brought in.

Her fingers worked the cardboard back, finding an assortment of items that she hadn't expected. Liz took a full seat on the floor and leaned back against the couch, pulling the box closer to start through it. There wasn't a lot, but the box wasn't that big. The first layer of stuff - she was hesitant to call it junk - was made up of maps. She recognized Tom's scrawled handwriting with little notes scribbled and a few places circled in red. She flipped through them, finding places that he'd talked about when he'd first been looking into buying the boat, and she shook her head with a small smile playing on her lips as she set it aside.

There was a folder below the maps. In it were a few photographs that were all flipped upside down. Liz frowned, wondering if she really wanted to know, but when she turned the first one over she was met by two smiling people she recognized well. Tom had his arms around her in the picture, pressing a kiss to the side of her head and she had a grin plastered across her face as she tried to squirm away, soaked entirely through. It had been a cookout at Sam's house one Fourth of July and Sam and Tom had teamed up on her to dump a bucket of ice water - the beers removed, of course - on top of her head. She didn't remember why they'd done it, but Tom had been determined to hold onto her while Sam grabbed the camera. They'd all been laughing and Liz had made sure that her then-fiance ended up just as wet as she was, finding a couple of pitchers of water to throw on him right after the picture had been taken.

"What has you smiling so big?"

Liz looked up, started by the groggy voice and found the man from the photo leaning against the wall, favouring his injured leg, and smiling at her. "You should be using that cane. There's a reason Nik sent it home with you."

"And you should be resting. We're both kind of bad at doing what we should," he teased and limped over, eyeing the box she was in the middle of.

"I'm sorry. I thought it was one of mine I'd missed," Liz offered and he shrugged.

"I should have mentioned it. I brought it over with the clothes right before I went to Boston. I didn't want to leave it in the boat while I was gone. It's… well it's the stuff I've held onto," he explained, the last part coming out softly and he ducked his head a little.

"Come here," she murmured, reaching out for him and he took her hand, letting her lead him so he was sitting behind her and leaning over the side of the couch as she continued to rummage through his things. "You can at least be a part of me being nosey."

Tom chuckled at that. "I don't have anything to hide from you anymore," he promised her and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

She began flipping through the photos, finding more like the first. They were all of them, she realized, from the very beginning till right before it ended. Her smile remained through photos of a birthday celebration at Wing Yee's, her graduation from Quantico, one of just her rearing back and ready to chuck a snowball at him, and several more. "How did you hang onto all of these?" Or even get them, she wondered. He'd left with nothing but what he had on him when he had walked out that evening.

"Talent," he assured her with a smile and leaned against the armrest, his gaze a little blurry from the painkillers.

Her fingers worked their way through a few other things. She held up a small Christmas ornament that was set on a very worn copy of The Count of Monte Cristo and grinned at him. "We talked about this. While I was on the run. Do you remember?"

Tom reached forward, his fingers touching the little gingerbread man carefully. "Yeah. I had it with me. I had all of this with me."

"While you were after Karakurt?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because it helps me remember."

Liz shifted so she could look at him easier and he offered a small smile, his hand reaching over the side of the couch for hers. Their fingers touched and her gaze held his, waiting for more.

Her ex husband sighed. "It's easy to slip… to forget who I am and who I want to be. I'm not sure I ever knew before you, you know?" He paused, his expression distant as if he were trying to find just the right words. "I asked you to call me Jacob right before you ran, but… the more I think about it, the more I think Jacob Phelps may have died the day I took Bud's offer. I don't think I had an identity from that day on. I was just… this person that could be anyone, but wasn't anyone in between. They called me Jacob, but I don't really know who that was. It's not like I spent enough time between jobs to find out."

Slowly, carefully, she laid the little ornament down carefully and took his hand in hers, pulling it to her lips to kiss his still-bruised knuckles. She heard him sigh, his hand moving to the side of her face and his thumb running along her cheek bone in a way that made her eyes drift closed as she listened to him continued. These little moments came and went. He had promised he would tell her anything, but offering something like this was a bit more rare. She thought it took a little more for him to work through it and figure out exactly what he was feeling about the subject and even longer to put it into words. She wondered how long he'd been thinking on this.

"I think Tom Keen may have started out as a job, but I liked who I was then. I mean, maybe not the super naive part of it -" she gave a short laugh and shook her head, finding a grin starting to pull at his lips - "but it was the first time I ever felt like… me in a lot of ways. It's who I want to be, for you and for me. For us."

Liz shifted, getting carefully to her feet and feeling him watch her as she did. He started to move to give her a hand up, but she waved him off. Once she was standing she leaned in, pressing a long kiss to his lips. He had been so honest with her, she felt like she should return it. She wanted to return it, and that was a rare feeling. She'd take advantage of it while she could. "I love you," she promised him. "The good and the bad and everything in between. I want to love you, not a mask you wear because you think I want to see it."

"I know," he said softly.

"Good," she smiled looking down at the box, "because no matter what name you want to go by - Tom Keen or Jacob Phelps - it's the guy that helped me make those memories, that chose me and I chose him… That's the one I love. That wasn't a part. That was you."

"Even I'm not that good of an actor?" he chuckled.

"No you're not." She kissed him again, this time being pulled gently around so that she took a seat with him on the couch. His fingers tangled in her hair and she pulled him just a little deeper into it before finally releasing him, neither moving very far away from each other. He leaned in, his forehead touching hers, and she closed her eyes. "So what other little talismans do you have in there?"

He gave a short laugh. "Talismans? I guess they are. Not much else. I had some videos on the jump drive and my wedding ring is in there."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"Dork."

"I'm going to try not to be offended that you didn't keep yours."

She rolled her eyes good naturedly at him. "Who said I didn't? Can we watch the videos?"

"Feeling nostalgic?"

"Curious what keeps you grounded," she corrected thoughtfully.

He smiled, kissing her cheek and leaning forward for her laptop on the table and then scooped the flash drive from the box, that smile never fading. Instead it sort of settled in there, like it might never go away, and he balanced the laptop on his left leg and she leaned into his shoulder, her arm looped through his as she pressed her cheek against his sweatshirt as the videos started to play. It was silly, she thought, that she felt like he'd let her in on a secret that evening, but he hadn't even hesitated. These little things meant something to him and they all linked back to her. Liz nestled in closer as the video played and she looked up, the connection clear. "I'm your talisman."

Tom's smile broadened just a little. "Yeah. I guess you are."

She nodded and he wrapped his arm around her so that she could lean into him, quietly watching memories that made him who he was becoming play out across the computer screen.

Notes: So this little idea came up because of Krism23's fantastic Keen2 Appreciation Week over on Tumblr. If you haven't checked it out yet, I highly recommend it. The hashtag to search for is #Keen2Week There's a lot of participation and it's been a ton of fun so far. Nicole Phillips even retweeted one of my posts today, so I'm still kind of on cloud nine about that. It was actually the post that this story was built from.

If you haven't read the comics (and I really encourage you to do so. They're fantastic!) you'll want to go look at my Tumblr for those pages that talk about the gingerbread man. It's a really sweet story for Keen2 and a Christmas they spent together. I'm hoping to write a one short for it eventually. I just haven't done it quite yet. It's still on the list.

We're just over one week until it comes back! Who's excited?