Tom dipped the wooden spoon into the pan and brought the utensil to his lips. He tasted the sauce and smiled. It was perfect. He really was getting good at this. Tom moved on the cutting board, grabbed a knife and started slicing a tomato. He'd decided to prepare spaghetti and salad tonight as a tribute to the meal Liz had made for him over a year ago. It wouldn't be an exact replica, given that Liz's version had included cold noodles and a store bought sauce. He remembered sitting there, choking down the pasta, and then Liz starting to cry. It was the first time he'd ever seen her with tears on her face.

Tom would never forget Liz's look of determination as she told him she didn't want a biological child, that she wanted to adopt. Liz had spoken to him about wanting to bring a child into a loving home, their home. He'd pulled her into his arms and just held her. A vision of Liz holding a child, their child, had popped into his mind and he'd experienced this rush of desire more powerful than anything he'd ever felt before. He'd wanted a family, THAT family. That was the moment he'd known that the battle he'd been fighting to stay detached had been lost. He'd known that he wanted to be Tom Keen for the rest of his life.

That night he'd tossed and turned. Wanting to be Tom Keen was one thing, making it a reality was another. He'd known Berlin would make contact eventually and when he did, Tom would be in an impossible situation. To betray Berlin would be suicide, but to obey him, to hurt Liz, would be unthinkable. Eventually inspiration had struck. The plan hadn't been without it's risks, but Tom had known it was the only way he'd ever have a chance at the life he wanted with the woman he loved.

The sound of the front opening and closing jerked Tom out his memories. He moved on to slicing up cucumbers as the footsteps came down the hall.

"Hey, babe. I thought you weren't going to be back-" Tom's voice died in his throat as he turned to face his wife and found himself looking at the concierge of crime. Raymond Reddington had invaded his home. Tom instinctively shifted his grip on the knife so it was ready to be thrown at the first sign of aggression.

"Hello, Tom." Reddington strolled into the kitchen and inspected the walls. "You've redecorated I see. I like the new paint color. Much better than that awful yellow." It sounded like polite small talk, but Tom knew better. To Tom's knowledge Reddington had never entered his house before, but clearly he, or one of his people had, otherwise Reddington wouldn't have known the old color of the walls. It wasn't a careless mistake because Raymond Reddington was never careless. Reddington was telling Tom that he'd been watching him very closely.

"What the hell are you doing here? Some one could have seen-" Reddington cut Tom off mid-sentence.

"At present your residence isn't being surveilled by anyone, law enforcement or otherwise. Lizzie is currently at the market, and given the traffic, shouldn't arrive for at least another thirty minutes. We have plenty of time to chat." The older man sat in the chair next the island and set down his fedora. Tom wished Reddington would simply skip to the point. There was obviously a reason for his visit, and Tom hated the subtle mind games the concierge of crime was so fond of.

"We have nothing to chat about. My bosses haven't made contact. If they had I would have signaled, like we agreed." Berlin's people were good, and despite what Reddington said, there was no way to be 100% certain this meeting wouldn't make its way back to Tom's boss. Reddington had put Tom, and more importantly Liz at risk. That was unacceptable.

"We agreed to a number of things, but it's come to my attention you haven't held up your end of the bargain. I know about the adoption meeting on Monday. I recall giving specific instructions on this topic that have clearly not been carried out." Tom's gut twisted. He'd hoped Reddington wouldn't discover that the adoption was going forward until the papers had been signed. He supposed that had been wishful thinking.

"I said I'd try to talk to Liz about and I did, but she wants this baby, it is important to her. Pushing her to postpone would make her suspicious." Technically speaking nothing that Tom had just said was a lie. He and Liz had discussed the possibility of waiting another year, but Liz hadn't wanted to wait and neither did he. In another year they might be living on the run. If the adoption was going to happen, it needed to happen now.

"Let me be clear: the baby is non-negotiable. Tomorrow you will tell the agency that you have changed your mind, that you want to wait until Liz is properly settled in her new job before moving forward." The hell with it, he was going to have to make a stand against Reddington as some point. It might as well be now.

"No, I won't. Liz wants this baby. I want this baby. We are having a child and there is nothing you can do to stop it. If you do anything to derail the adoption, you will not like the consequences." Tom stared down the international criminal sitting at his island, fully aware of the dangerous position he'd had just put himself in.

"Is that a threat?" Reddington tilted his head slightly to the side, like a hawk eyeing its next meal. Unfortunately for Reddington, Tom wasn't exactly a helpless bunny.

"It's a statement of fact. Right now Liz has her heart set on adoption, but if that alternative proves impossible, she might change her mind and go the old-fashioned route. One way or another Liz and I are going to have a child. We are going to be a family." Tom honestly didn't care where his child came from, as long as he got to raise the baby with Liz.

"You are not Lizzie's husband. She does not want a family with you." Tom wasn't an idiot, he knew that the man he'd been before he'd met Liz wasn't someone Liz would have spoken to, much less married. Still he'd become Tom Keen for her, and after over two years, that identity had become a part of him. It wasn't the only part, but it was the part that Liz saw. It was the part that Liz loved. It didn't make a difference who he'd been before, Tom Keen was the man he was now.

"Shakespeare wrote that 'There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.' As long as Liz thinks I am her husband, then I am her husband. I make her happy. She loves me, and I love her." Love was enough, it had to be enough. The rest would sort itself out.

"How could she love you, when she doesn't know who you are? How could you love her when you clearly don't know what love is?" Suddenly Raymond Reddington was the authority on romance? Un-fucking-believable.

"I would kill for Liz. I would die for her. I would spend the rest of my life pretending to be someone else if meant I could stay with her. You don't think that's love?" Who the hell was Reddington to come into his house and lecture him about love? The man had no concept of who Tom was or what he felt for Liz.

"No. It's infatuation. Real love isn't selfish. Real love is work and sacrifice. Above all it means never hurting the object of your love." Tom felt it was a pretty ironic lecture, given that Reddington had abandoned his own family on Christmas Eve without so much as a goodbye note.

"I would never hurt her." Harming Liz was...he couldn't even imagine it. The anger he'd felt when Liz came home with bruises she received after working some case had been astounding. That instant irrational instinct to retaliate had caught him completely off guard. For Reddington to even suggest he was capable of that made him furious.

"You already have, she just doesn't know it yet. With a breath of air, this house of cards will fall and when it does, she's going to be heart broken." Tom knew Reddington was right. There was a chance that eventually the truth would come out and if it did, Liz would feel betrayed by him. The only thing Tom could do was try and keep his cover from being blown. Unfortunately Tom's greatest risk of exposure was Reddington. He needed to convince Reddington that he was too valuable of an asset to lose.

"I'd think long and hard before you start huffing and puffing. If you burn me, you tip your hand. How many years have you been hunting this enemy of yours without any success?" Berlin was even more cautious and ruthless than Reddington. Most of Berlin's assets would rather commit suicide than betray their very dangerous boss. Reddington was thus far getting the better deal out of their arrangement. Not only had he given Reddington the element surprise, but Tom had also given him the names of a few of Berlin's contractors.

"I found you, I'll find them." Found him? It was finally time to disabuse Reddington of that notion.

"You only found me because I let you find me. Did you really think it was a coincidence I commissioned those passports from one your forgers?" It had been a major risk on Tom's part, but he'd had no other choice. The passports were a good contingency to have, but hiding from Berlin would be nearly impossible and they'd spend their whole lives looking over their shoulders. Tom had needed a powerful ally and who better than the man who obviously had a great fondness for his wife. Reddington had gotten Liz into this situation in the first place, so it was only fair that he got her out of it.

Using Reddington's forger has been the only way Tom could think to reveal his identity and intentions. The plan had worked perfectly. Tom had been abducted a mere 48 hours after he'd place the order and two hours after that Tom and Red had struck their bargain.

"No, I did not. It's one of the reasons I've tolerated your presence in Lizzie's life for as long I have. You're a smart man, Tom, and I don't deny the value of the intelligence you've provided, but if you do not abandon your present course, then our alliance is at an end." The self-righteous, ungrateful son of a bitch, issuing decrees, like some kind of deity from on high. If Reddington thought Tom was going to bow to him, he had another think coming.

"Get out of my house." To Tom's surprise Reddington immediately complied, donning his hat once more, and rising from his seat.

"As I said before, you're a smart man. Do not start a war that you can not possibly win. You have twenty-four hours. Make the right choice, Tom." As soon as the front door closed Tom released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. There were few men in this world that frightened Tom, but Raymond Reddington was one of them. The fear didn't bother him. Only a fool wouldn't fear Reddington, and Tom was no fool.

Tom resumed dicing the vegetables on the cutting board. 'Make the right choice' had been Reddington's final words. Were they a threat? Probably. But realistically what could Reddington do to him? Kill him? Tom doubted it. Reddington had to know that if Tom died Berlin would send some else, someone considerably less disposed to protect Liz than he was. Exposing Tom would carry much of the same risks. Would Reddington really choose to endanger Liz that way? It was hard to say.

Tom tossed the vegetables into the salad bowl and turned on the stove for the pasta pot. As the water heated Tom set the table. Plates, check. Bowls, check. Glasses, check. Forks, check. Napkins, check. Candles, check. Tom returned to the now-boiling pot and dumped in the noodles. As Tom stirred he replayed the conversation with Reddington in his mind. Was he making a mistake, alienating his only ally, and creating a new enemy when he already had enough to contend with?

"Hey babe! I'm home." Liz's voice was a welcome distraction from his internal debate. He smiled as his wife strolled down the hallway, dumped grocery bags on the counter, and kissed him. "I picked up some cookie dough ice cream. Your favorite." Liz presented him with the half-gallon of frozen dessert. Cookie dough ice cream. It really was his favorite. Liz grinned at him with that playful, teasing smile she seemed to reserve only for him. It struck Tom that this was a perfect moment, beautiful in its innocence, in its simplicity. If Reddington took moments like these from him, what would he do?

"Do I get a thank you?" Tom suddenly realized he'd been staring at Liz without making a sound, just holding his ice cream like an idiot. He laughed and set the carton down on the counter.

"Absolutely." Tom pulled Liz into his arms, put his lips to hers, and kissed her until he was absolutely certain that if he continued a moment longer he'd have no alternative but to drag her into the bedroom.

"Wow, I should buy you ice cream more often. Although you might want to put it away before it melts." Tom chuckled and did as Liz suggested. It was time to share the news he'd been so excited about only hours before. Now, thanks to Reddington's visit, he was more apprehensive than anything else.

"The adoption agency called. They were able to fit us in for 1:30 on Monday. I know it's your first day of work, so if you want me to call them and ask them to reschedule..." Liz looked at him like he had lost his mind. Honestly he probably had.

"No, Tom. No. Do you have any idea how amazing this is, for it to be happening this quickly? Couples spend years on waiting lists." Tom nodded, he did know. What he wasn't sure of was if anything was worth risking the happiness he'd found with her, even a baby. Was Reddington right? Was he being greedy and stubborn?

"I know, but your job is important-" Liz reached out and took hold of both his hands.

"Hey, look at me. You. Me. Our family. It is the only thing that matters." Tom looked down into the face he knew so well and read the perfect sincerity in her eyes. He didn't deserve her love, he knew that, but when she looked at him this way, it make want to try and earn it.

"I love you so much. You know that, don't you?" Tom prayed that no matter what happened Liz would never ever doubt that truth.

"Yeah? Care to prove it?" Liz bite her lip and raised her eyebrow suggestively. Tom's blood immediately began to pump faster, but he couldn't help but glance over at his carefully prepared meal.

"The spaghetti…" Tom let his voice trail off as Liz began to slowly unbutton her blouse.

"Can wait. I can't." Tom managed to switch of the stove top at the exact instant Liz's shirt hit the floor. Without another word Tom scooped his wife up into his arms and carried her into their bedroom. Raymond Reddington could go fuck himself. Tom knew what he wanted and he would go to war with the devil himself to get it.