Coffee Time
Lizzie and Tom savor coffee over a slow weekend breakfast.
The doggie is there too. Things get awkward, then sweet- then awkward again when Reddington calls.
Ch. 3, Tom Keen
Elizabeth Keen sat blearily at her kitchen table, listening to the sound of the coffee brewing, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes after another long restless night.
Insomnia had been striking more and more frequently, leaving her tossing and turning uneasily on her side of the bed...eventually escaping to the stairs or the kitchen with only her insecurities and doubts for company.
Tom had noticed, but she brushed off his concern, feeling embarassed with herself. If her worries had just been about her job, she could have confided in him...but now, with everything she had found...now she didn't know how to act around Tom half the time.
He was her husband.
She loved him.
She did.
Completely.
But Elizabeth was- she was spooked.
She was confused.
Everything she had found... the box under the floorboards...the passports with Tom's face on them...the gun.
There had to be an explanation for it.
There had to be.
She just had to find it.
There would be an explanation.
Tom couldn't be involved with all of that.
A classified murder investigation.
It wasn't possible.
He was a schoolteacher!
He was a good man!
And he was her husband!
…
And Reddington...he was nothing.
A criminal low-life who had done nothing but turn Elizabeth's life upside down since he arrived.
He had been against Tom from the beginning.
Butting into their private life.
Belittling Tom, implying her husband did not really know her...implying she did not really know Tom.
Reddington had acted indifferent when Tom had been attacked, unapologetic for being the only connection between Zamani and them.
She couldn't prove anything, but Elizabeth blamed him for the attack.
Maybe it had been malicious, maybe it had simply been neglectful.
But it was Reddington's fault that Zamani had ended up at the Keens house, and she was not going to forget it.
Elizabeth couldn't trust anything Reddington said.
He had told her as much himself. He was a notorious liar.
Yet Reddington was insistent on shining doubt on her husband at every opportunity.
It had moved past ominous hints to straight up accusations against Tom.
Elizabeth did not want to believe Reddington.
She did not want to even think about believing him.
About even considering it.
...
There had to be another answer.
Something.
A frame job, maybe?
But who would do that? Go to those lengths?
And why?
Was it Reddington?
Was he really obsessed with her, like Zamani claimed?
Or was this part of something bigger?
Why Tom?
Why her, for that matter?
Elizabeth Keen did not know.
And she was not prepared to deal with that particular line of questioning yet.
At least not before she had gotten some coffee in her.
...
Footsteps on the stairs alerted her to Tom's arrival, and he walked into the kitchen smiling sleepily at her; his hair mussed up, glasses perched on the edge of his nose.
Elizabeth smiled at him.
This was her husband, the man she had fallen in love with.
The man she was married to.
Seeing him like this, it was easy to forget about all her doubts.
They were just another married couple puttering about their kitchen on a Saturday morning.
Nothing complicated about that.
...
If she was going to be cynical about it, maybe Elizabeth was willing away her doubts, willing away her better sense, burying her head in the sand; deliberately ignoring an ugly, unthinkable reality in preference of a pleasant past.
A past when they were just Tom and Lizzie, a school teacher and a behavioral profiler from New York.
Not Elizabeth Keen, intermediary between the FBI and Raymond Reddington, and Tom Keen, possible suspect in a classified homicide regarding a Russian spy.
That made things complicated.
And Elizabeth Keen did not need any more "complicated" in her life.
Especially not between herself and her husband.
Her loving, thoughtful, utterly adorable husband.
Especially not during her first day off in weeks.
Especially not before she had her first cup of coffee.
...
Speaking of coffee; the brew was done.
Elizabeth rose from her spot at the table, moving to complete the morning ritual and pouring coffee for the both of them.
Tom kissed her "good morning", and she kissed him back, hand lingering on his shoulder as her husband turned to take the dog outside, barefoot and still half asleep.
She smiled after him, everything feeling right in the world, for the moment at least.
They could both use the coffee. Elizabeth decided, choosing a pair of matching mugs from the cupboard.
Tom had just stepped out the door when her phone rang.
...
The sudden noise startled Elizabeth, making her jump and spill the coffee she had been pouring.
The garish sound repeated, the ringing combining with the angry vibrations of the phone against the counter to her left.
Elizabeth had forgotten all about the phone.
She had set it down last night during a round of insomnia, abandoning the cellphone in the kitchen and hoping it would stay forgotten until the week began again.
No such luck.
Now here it was, demanding her attention...with growling vibrations and an ear-piercing ringtone.
...
She hadn't even had her coffee yet.
...
It had better be something important. Elizabeth thought grumpily as she answered the call from the unknown number.
It was her work phone, and the FBI was not big on caller ID.
"Agent Keen." she stated plainly, waiting for an explanation for the call.
"Lizzie, darling, how is the weekend treating you?"
At the sound of his voice Elizabeth's mood nose-dived once more.
Reddington.
Of course.
Exactly who she did NOT want to hear from.
She had been hoping for Ressler.
He seemed the type to call at such an ungodly early hour on the weekend.
Elizabeth doubted the uptight agent knew what to do with his time off. He was probably at the office already...catching up on paperwork or something.
But Ressler definitely would have been preferable.
Him or basically anybody else under the sun.
Just not Reddington.
...
"Now isn't a good time." Elizabeth ground out sullenly, turning to stare out the window towards Tom.
"Oh, come now, Lizzie." He chastised, "It's a lazy Saturday morning, what on earth could you be doing that's more important?"
Elizabeth stayed silent, watching Tom and their dog through the window.
Willing Reddington away.
If only things were so simple.
"I didn't wake you up, did I? I always figured you for an early riser."
She maintained her silence, fingers crossed that the call would drop and she could go back to her peaceful morning.
...
The door closed loudly behind Tom and the dog, and Elizabeth attempted to return her husband's smile when he reentered the kitchen- realized she was on the phone- and mimed that he would wait in the other room.
Despite her best effort, Lizzie was certain her smile turned out as more of a grimace.
"Enough dawdling, Lizzie-" Reddington's voice had lost its cordial, wheedling tone from seconds earlier.
It was sharp now.
She wasn't ready to deal with this.
Not today.
"Can't it wait?" she interrupted, cutting Reddington off, equally irritated. "It's my day off, I haven't had any time since-"
He interrupted her right back, his voice forceful with just a tinge of anger.
Anger at her interruption, or her initial refusal, or both. She couldn't tell.
"Time is of the essence."
Elizabeth's heart sunk, any remaining hopes dashed by his tone. It did nothing to lessen the resentment curling in her chest.
Goddamnit.
"We need to meet now. Within the hour."
Commanding now. An order.
The hint of a threat masked under the angry edge.
Elizabeth wouldn't put it past Reddington to withhold information -information that could save lives- if the FBI failed to bend to his whims...if she didn't fold to his demands to meet at odd hours throughout the day, whenever he wanted, even if that meant during her first day off in weeks.
...
"Fine." She replied, sounding petulant, but it was the best she could manage.
She was acting entirely civil compared to how she felt.
What she wanted was to hang up on him...or throw the phone across the room.
Or both.
Both would work.
Then she could get back to the weekend as scheduled.
...
"I'll send a car."
"Don't." Her turn to snap at him. Lizzie took a deep breath, calming herself before continuing. "I'll meet you, one hour, just say where."
"Suit yourself, Lizzie. The Post Office will do fine. Though, just outside of it, no need to go through all that security unnecessarily."
His voice was sunny again, hints of amusement replacing whatever darker tone had been present before.
Lizzie concentrated on fighting down her irritation.
"It is such a lovely day. Perhaps we can take a stroll through the park."
Ignore him. Ignore him. Ignore him.
"One hour. I'll be there."
Don't let him get to you.
"I'll see you then, Lizzie."
The line went dead. And Elizabeth Keen was left standing in her kitchen alone.
...
"You have to go again, huh?" Tom was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, looking for all the world like a sad puppy.
He was so understanding...about everything.
It made Elizabeth feel even worse.
It was times like this when she almost forgot all her doubts about him.
"I do." she answered with a frown, hoping Tom understood how sincere she was. "I'm sorry. I never realized this job would be so demanding."
The understatement of the century.
"It's all right, I understand. This job is important for you." Tom replied soothingly, his hands running up her arms before he began massaging her shoulders gently, leaning in to whisper in her ear, his voice tinged with the sense of humor she had fallen in love with.
"Besides, we'll have next weekend all to ourselves. They can't get you if we're out of town, right?"
"We can hope." she replied with a small smile, leaning into his kiss and hoping her exhaustion in the moment, both physical and emotional, didn't shine through the kiss.
...
Next weekend. Right.
...
A weekend get-away, just her and Tom.
Just like old times.
She should have been excited...but the thought of it hung heavy over her head, as threatening as a guillotine.
Why was that?
...
Elizabeth vaguely noted that their coffee had gone cold.
No help for it now, she had to rush to get ready if she was going to make Reddington's meeting in time.
x.x.x
Author's Note:
Chapter with Tom!
Muahahaha!
The Husband!
He's probably the most divisive character on the show: people either hate him...or they really want to not hate him (it's just so hard to try and like Tom when we're waiting for him to stab Lizzie in the heart at any given moment!).
Of course, Reddington interrupts the morning and calls Lizzie away on her first day off in ages.
Is he purposefully interrupting her alone time with the husband...or is it just a coincidence?
;)
More Reddington in the near future. Maybe another chapter with Ressler?
Let me know what you think!
I'll try and respond to the reviews, I appreciate each and every one of them!