Not One Word

Notes: This was requested by the awesome Krism23 (it's her fault, you can blame her) and AnonAuthor-a1023 was kind enough to bounce ideas around with me to help me get to the point where things actually made sense. It's set somewhere in the near(ish) future.

He hadn't felt that helpless since the day that he had stood in their living room in the townhouse that they hadn't lived at in years now, phone pressed to his ear, and Anslo Garrick told him that he was the man that would put a bullet in his wife's head. When Tom had been assigned over to the task force for the case they were working, it hadn't seemed different than any other time he had acted as Halcyon's liaison, but then the desperate voice had come in over the comms, dragging his attention away from the files he had been looking over and comparing to the ones his own company had in their systems. Liz and Ressler had walked into an ambush and were calling for backup. Tom had instantly jumped for the keys, but Cooper had told him to sit. They had men stationed closer. There was no way that he could get there any faster than they could.

That had been nearly five hours before. They were okay, or at least that had been what came through. He hadn't spoken to Liz directly, but instead had forced himself to at least pretend that he was being productive as she and her partner wrapped things up out in the field - where Tom should have been, helping to watch his wife's back instead of bent over files like some analyst. At some point the Post Office started to empty out for the evening, leaving only a few faces behind, and even those seemed to be wrapping things up to leave for home. Tom sat waiting, his cell sitting on the desk next to him, his eyes aching with the intensity he'd been staring through the computer screen, and the strangest feeling of that limbo - the one that he'd discovered between the time when Mr Kaplan had rushed a "dying" Elizabeth Keen off and when she'd finally been able to reach out to him with the truth that Liz had made it - settled deep inside of him where he sat. She was okay. Even if he hadn't heard from her directly, he'd been told she was okay.

The lift shuddered as an alert that it was moving, the doors opening, and Tom straightened in his chair, blinking owlishly at the big, yellow doors as they opened to reveal Elizabeth Keen and Donald Ressler discussing something as they stepped out. "Told you she was okay," Aram said softly from his side and Tom snorted.

"Hey," Liz greeted, looking exhausted. "I'm sorry. Things got so crazy after the explosion went off. We had a sniper and Samar's team was delayed… it was a nightmare. I need to grab a couple files from my office before we go. Did you let Charlene know we were going to be in later? Was she okay with that?"

"Yeah," Tom somehow managed to answer and was fairly certain that he actually had somewhere at the beginning. He must have, or Cooper had. Whatever the case, someone had let her know they'd be late to get Agnes. That's what mattered.

Liz loosed a sigh. "Great."

"I've got this, Keen. Get what you need and call it a night," Ressler said, waving Liz off as she was halfway towards the office anyway with Tom at her heels.

He followed silently and she barely seemed to notice as she rounded the corner into the space she shared with Ressler and back to the file cabinet to dig through it, laser focused on what she was looking for. Tom watched her grab what she needed and turn to her desk, reaching for the drawer that she kept her wedding rings in when she was out in the field. She looked over to him as she slipped them back on. "You okay? You're quiet."

Tom pulled in a breath and was surprised just how shaky it was. He closed the door behind him and moved forward. She tilted her head in question, but didn't get a chance to ask before he pulled her close, one hand gentle against either side of her face as he leaned in and kissed her. They had a habit of keeping things professional when one of them landed on a case with the other, but Liz didn't pull away. Instead he heard the files she had ahold of drop to the desk and felt one hand snake to the back of his neck, her fingers teasing at his hairline as she deepened the kiss. Her other hand trailed down his front, fingers wrapped up in the fabric of his shirt.

They parted, both breathless, after a collection of moments and if the world had kept moving around them, Tom certainly wasn't aware of it. He leaned in, his forehead bumping against hers, and her hand left his neck to find his, fingers lacing through his own. "I'm sorry," she breathed. "I should have called."

"Cooper told me he heard from you," Tom assured her. "I just… It's been a while since I've felt that helpless."

He blinked his eyes open to find her smiling at him. "Not a fan?"

"Not even a little bit." He leaned back just a little, fingers of his free hand ghosting over the cuts and beginnings of the bruises that would darken on her face by the next morning. Her skin was smudged with grime and her hair was barely contained in a ponytail, but she was whole. Whole and alive and as beautiful as the day he'd met her. Before he gave himself permission, he was kissing her again, her name tumbling from his lips.

"You definitely talked to Charlene, right?" his wife managed, and he felt her hands drifting down his sides, sending chills up his back as she shifted his stance, guiding him around.

"Definitely," he managed, and suddenly he found himself sitting down hard in her chair next to her desk. She leaned down and he couldn't have told her no if he'd wanted to. He felt her hands move through his hair as she took a seat in his lap, lips pressed against his as they leaned back precariously. Apparently he wasn't the only one that had felt the dam break after the fear and adrenaline rush that had been her op. "Your, uh, partner's still outside," Tom barely got out between kisses.

She stopped, quirking an eyebrow at him. "You thinking about Ress?" she teased.

"Nope."

"Good."

He grinned at her, pulling her back down into the kiss.

"Agent Keen, Agent Ressler said you'll need to sign this before-" Aram said as he opened the door to the office, barely knocking as he was speaking. He stopped abruptly, as did Tom and Liz, frozen in place with Tom leaned back in the desk chair and Liz sitting on top of him in what must have been one of the most awkward sights of Mojtabai's life with the way Aram was sputtering. "I, uh, I just… I'll just… Oh wow. I'm so sorry, Agent Keen. Tom. I'm just, I'll-"

Liz shifted, looking a little embarrassed, but Tom flashed a wide grin. "What'd you need, Aram?" he asked lightly and his wife hit him. Hard. "Ouch."

"Damn, Keen," Ressler's voice filtered in and he joined Aram at the door. "Don't you guys have your own place?"

"Shut up, Ress," Liz grumbled as she got to her feet as gracefully as she could and Tom did his best to keep the amused look from his face. He was usually much better at schooling his expressions. "What did I need to sign?" she snapped after a moment of silence from the three men in the room.

"Right," Aram managed, holding out the file and doing a damn good job of avoiding eye contact with either of the Keens.

"Wouldn't want to interrupt you guys with work or anything," Ressler snarked and Tom lost his battle, flashing a wide grin.

"Nah, we'll head home for that," he answered lightly, shooting his wife's partner a wink that earned him a really hard hit to the shoulder. "Damn, Liz, pull the punch!" he yelped.

"Only when you deserve it to be pulled," she growled and snatched the paperwork from Aram. She dropped it to the desk, leaned past him for a pen, and scrawled her name across it. "That it?"

"Yes," Aram said in a small voice.

"Great. We need to go pick Agnes up from the Coopers' place. I'll take a look at these files over dinner and text you if we need to discuss it before we all get in in the morning," Liz said, her voice all-business and she turned a look on Tom that warned him not to say anything else unless he wanted another hit hard enough the bruise.

He raised his hands, palm outward, in mock surrender. "Whenever you're ready, babe."

"Not a word," she growled as she moved past Ressler, who just quirked an eyebrow at Tom as he followed. The dark haired man offered a shrug in response. It wasn't like any man in that room was brave enough to argue with her anyway.

Liz didn't say anything as they strode through the bullpen and straight towards the lift, her files tucked under one arm. Tom grabbed his cell and car keys from the desk in one quick movement as they passed, and followed her in so that the lift could take them to the street level where his car was parked and waiting for them. The door closed, sealing them off, and he looked over when her hand found his, taking it. "I'm sorry I worried you."

He offered her a lopsided smile. "You're safe. That's what matters at the end of the day."

She hummed softly as the doors opened, releasing them, and she squeezed his hand before releasing it. "May be an early night for Agnes."

His smile turned to a grin as he followed behind her, gave her a quick kiss on her cheek before he circled around to the driver's side of the car and she tossed him the keys he hadn't even realized that she'd lifted off of him. He caught them and shook his head as she offered him a flirty grin, hopping into the car. He'd married one hell of a woman, and as terrified as she left him sometimes, he wouldn't ask her to change for anything.