Title: An Act of Love
Author: Amory Puck (pucktheperv on LJ & Tumbr)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash, Peter/Neal, implied Peter/Elizabeth/Neal, h/c, fluff
Word Count: 5,524
Summary: When an act of love lands Neal back in prison, Peter is left struggling to cope. Can he discover the identity of the person trying to protect him from himself before Neal is lost to him forever?

Author's Notes: Written for the 'Taking Care of Somebody' square on my H/C Fanfic Bingo card for hc_bingo. I tried to interpret this prompt in a slightly different way. For the lovely reviewer who wanted something that is JUST mild hurt/comfort with a teensy bit of fluff, no super!angst in sight... This be the fic for you! ;)

o o o

An Act of Love

"Look," Reese said, lowering his voice as he pressed the receiver more tightly against his ear, eyes searching out the glass wall for subject of this conversation. "If this is what you really want? I'll do it. Burke is my man, and I'm loyal to him, but I agree that sometimes he needs to be protected from himself."

"It is what I want," the voice said firmly. "I love him, you know that. And if this keeps up, well, I can't see the future, but I have a feeling there will be lawyers involved."

Reese made a sound of acknowledgement. "Even a 94% closure rate isn't worth Peter losing the love of his life. I know from experience that this job itself can have the worst sort of effects on a man's marriage, even without any other… distractions." He paused. "But it's a big sacrifice, and once it's done? Well, I'm not sure it can be undone."

"I know, I know. Trust me, this is not what I wanted it to come to. God, it's one thing to be obsessed with catching a crook, but this has gone way beyond that now. Peter's just plain obsessed, and I don't think the marriage is going to survive it."

"So we're agreed, then?" Reese questioned, tapping his fingers nervously on his desk as he watched Peter laughing at the coffee maker, his tie slightly askew, a big grin on his face.

"Yeah." The word was so soft he could barely make it out. "Yeah, we're agreed."

Reese gave a sharp nod. "Okay, then. I'll take care of it."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he said, rubbing tiredly at his forehead. "This is not the sort of thing that deserves thanks."

o o o

Peter flipped through the file on his desk, humming happily under his breath. It looked like it would be pretty open and shut. In fact, it would be a good one for the new probie. He picked it up and dropped it into his Outbox. Next.

This one was a little more complicated, but still not up to his and Neal's standards. He'd put Jones on it, maybe Diana if he needed some help. Another one for the Outbox.

Oh, now *this* was what he was talking about! Master level forgery, artifacts stolen from a supposedly uncrackable safe under the noses of four armed guards, three different getaway vehicles… Neal was gonna love this one.

"Hey, how're they looking today?" Peter glanced up at the subject of his thoughts and gave him a broad smile.

"Oh, you're gonna love this one, buddy. It's almost up to your level!" He gestured for Neal to come around the desk and the slim man obeyed, smiling tolerantly as Peter placed his hand lightly on the small of his back.

God, it was hard to think with Neal leaning over him like this. Peter wasn't sure when the admittedly handsome young man had started doing this to him, but it seemed as if every day the urge to be close to Neal grew a little bit stronger. Peter was starting to think of him as sort of a drug. You started out with the occasional puff, then moved up to daily usage and eventually it became all you could think about. Only being around Neal was better than any drug.

It had been a long time since Peter had felt this hyperaware of another person. Even El didn't get this kind of reaction from him, not anymore. He wasn't sure whether it was the illicitness of it, or the danger, but something about Neal excited a part of him that hadn't been tingled in years. His wife was safe and familiar and he loved her more than life itself, but the truth was that Peter Burke had chosen FBI agent over Fortune 500 accountant for a reason, and it had nothing to do with tiny little cups and expensive corner offices. He had chosen it for the rush the job gave him, the excitement of the chase. And that just about summed up Neal Caffrey, didn't it? An exciting chase.

It had taken Peter a long time to admit these feelings to himself, much less to anyone else, but once he'd put it out there in the open, it had become a game. Neal Caffrey was a CI, Peter Burke was a married Fed. The man was untouchable. But that didn't mean that Peter couldn't play a little, especially since no one would suspect that someone as button downed and straight shooting as he was would ever flirt with a felon, *especially* Neal Caffrey.

So it had become a sort of contest with himself. How far could he push before Neal got a clue? Peter suspected that he could push pretty far. Neal, more than anyone, seemed entirely oblivious. Even Elizabeth had noticed the other day when Peter had slipped his arm casually around Neal during the six o'clock news, pulling the smaller man in tight against him. She'd actually brought it up in the kitchen with a raised eyebrow and a shake of the head. But Neal… It hadn't even phased him.

Apparently shocking Neal Caffrey meant pulling your metaphorical man-gun, and Peter wasn't quite ready to go *that* far with this, even just to tease. He did have a wife, after all, and actually cheating was *not* part of the game plan. He loved El too much to even contemplate the idea. But toying wasn't adultery, and toy Peter most certainly did.

"Wow, three different getaway cars, huh?" Neal said as he bent over the file, totally clueless that Peter's eyes were locked on certain nether parts. "That's impressive. The question is… Did he actually use any of them?"

It was pretty scary when a man's intelligence was almost as sexy as his cut body, especially considering just how cut that body was.

"What, you think they were all decoys?" Peter questioned, mulling the idea over. It made sense, especially considering that they'd searched each of the cars and every one of them had been totally clean of any residues or prints.

"Maybe. I mean why have—"

"Neal Caffrey?"

Peter looked up sharply, brow furrowing as a US Marshal flashed a badge in his face.

"Can I help you?" Neal questioned, looking suspicious. Peter couldn't blame him. His track record with the Marshals wasn't exactly A+.

"You'll need to come with us."

"What?" Peter demanded, standing abruptly. "What are you talking about? He's my CI."

"Not anymore," one of the men replied as he moved into the office. "We have evidence showing that he left his radius, violating his agreement. I'm afraid that Mr. Caffrey is going to have to return to prison."

"Like hell he is!" Peter said, moving around the desk to physically put himself between the men and Neal. "You're not taking him."

"Agent Burke, you need to stand down!" Peter's head jerked at the sound of Hughes' voice. The older man pushed past the Marshals, staring Peter in the eye. "The Marshals are here on my authority. There is a 'three strikes, you're out' policy in their office, and Caffrey has violated it. He's returning to prison, Peter. I'm sorry."

Peter's mouth dropped open in shock. "Returning to prison? Are you out of your mind?!"

"Peter," Neal said, his face ashen. "Peter, I'm sorry."

Sorry? For what, leaving his radius? You'd think he'd brought hell upon the earth! Three strikes? Caffrey had about a thousand strikes, strikes much worse than stepping outside his radius, and they were taking him now? Something was going on here that Peter didn't understand.

One of the Marshals shoved past, his fat hands yanking Neal's arms behind his back so that he could cuff him.

"I'm really sorry. I never meant to ruin anything, Peter," Neal said, eyes looking desperate. "Please believe that."

"What are you talking about, Neal?" Peter demanded, grabbing the man's arm before the Marshal's could drag him away.

"El is a great woman, Peter. She really is. I'm sorry." The pain in the young man's voice made Peter ache.

"Let him go, Peter," Hughes said softly. "It's time for Caffrey to go."

Peter dropped his hand, a numb feeling coming over him as the Marshals led Neal out his office and down the stairs, then disappeared through the main doors.

Neal was gone. Intelligent, sexy, funny Neal was gone. Peter's game had ended, and he didn't even know why.

o o o

"Here you go, hon," El said, handing Peter the mug. "Careful, it's hot."

"Thanks," he murmured, taking it carefully. "God, El, I don't know what to do. I don't even know what's going on! You should have seen Hughes. He had something to do with this, but I don't know why."

El settled down on the couch next to him, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee. "Did you talk to Reese?" she questioned, her voice sounding a little worried.

Peter glanced at her, frowning slightly at the look on her face. "He swears it's the Marshals. But their reasons for taking Neal? Absolutely ridiculous. And Hughes wouldn't let me do anything about it!" He swore. "Neal is *my* partner, El! He's my responsibility! How could someone just waltz in and take him after he's done so much for the Bureau. *Why* would they do it? Our closure rate is up ten percent since we signed him on!"

"You really miss him," El said softly.

"He's my partner," Peter snapped. "Of course I miss him."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It's more than that, Peter. You miss *him.*"

Peter sipped his coffee, wincing as the hot liquid stung his tongue. "I don't know what you mean."

Elizabeth sat up suddenly, turning so she could look him right in the eye. "Peter Burke, we've been married long enough for me to tell when you're lying. I'm not blind or dumb. I *see* how you act around him, Peter. I see the little touches, the secretive smiles, the way you ruffle his hair. I see how much you care about him. I see how much you *love* him."

Peter stiffened. "I don't love him," he said gruffly. "I won't lie and say it isn't fun to tease him. He's an attractive man with an even more attractive mind. But I love *you*, honey."

"I know you do," El said simply. "But I also know you love him, too. Everyone knows it. You've never been exactly subtle, Peter. Even before you really knew him, you spent half your time trying to get inside his head. And recently… You treat him like a lover, not like a partner."

Peter's mouth dropped open. "He's not my lover, El!" He set his mug on the table and turned a little on the couch so they were both facing one another. "I would never do that to you, hon," he said sincerely, taking her delicate hands in his. "I swear to God, I would never do that to you. Neal… Neal's alluring, I admit that, but, like I said, he's not *you.*"

"No," she said, shaking her head, "but I'm not him, either. And he knows that."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say," Peter said, brow crinkling.

El reached out, touching his lips softly. "I'm saying that, just maybe, this is someone trying to take care of you. Someone who can appreciate how much you have to lose. Things like me."

"Take care of—" Peter cut off abruptly, eyes narrowing. "What, you think Reese is trying to protect me from myself or something? I'm not a child, El! Whatever I feel for Neal, it's no threat to you! You know that! You're the love of my life!"

"I do know that," she agreed. "You and I, we aren't like most couples. We work, and sometimes I think people are sort of in awe of just how well we do. Maybe someone wanted to protect that."

Peter's face darkened. "And if Neal gets destroyed in the process, that's fine and dandy?" He dropped her hands and stood, scowling deeply. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm going to bed."

"Peter, wait," El called, but he was already out of the room.

o o o

"Okay, you've got ten minutes," the guard said gruffly as he sort of shoved Neal into the Visitor's room.

"Will you please just tell me who it is?" Neal questioned, annoyed. If Peter was here, Neal had no interest in seeing him. He couldn't face the older man right now, not without breaking down.

Neal had forgotten how tough prison could be. He wasn't in his own cell this time. No, he was stuck in a cage with a seven foot Crip who went by the name 'Cocaine Float,' and the asshole had dropped his sketchpad in the toilet. He hadn't eaten in twelve hours, his lunch having been stolen by the bastard child of Vanilla Ice and Eminem, and he already felt grungy since the showers were the place to avoid. All this because Peter had, out of fucking nowhere, suddenly decided that Neal's ass was fair game.

Neal wasn't sure what had sparked the change in the man. One day they'd been comfortable partners with their own personal space and, the next, Peter's hand had been finding Neal's at every opportunity.

Okay, maybe it hadn't come on quite that fast. In fact, Neal hadn't really noticed it at first. Not until he started to see the way Elizabeth looked at him. It made him ache, the way she'd raise her eyebrow as Peter squeezed Neal's knee or bite her lip when Peter played with the end of his tie. It reminded him of how he'd felt the time Kate had left him for a richer man.

It had started out as teasing, nothing more than little games, but gradually it had become something bigger and bigger until one day he'd come home and all her drawers were empty, the closet cleared out. Neal had curled up in a ball on the floor and cried for hours. Two weeks later she'd been back on his doorstep—the rich guy turned out to have a wife and three kids—but it had been the worst two weeks of his life, well, up until she left him again in prison.

Having that first hand knowledge of how it felt to have the person you love stolen away had made it a thousand times worse when Neal realized how much he *enjoyed* Peter's attention. Neal had been in a lot of relationships, but he'd never been the one sought after. Oh, he was handsome enough that strangers would show interest, but the people who knew him? Neal was a crook, a liar, a thief. Life with him meant a life on the run, a life with no chance for family or stability. Kate, Alex, Sara… All of them had one thing in common. They all felt like they were doing Neal a favor by being with him at all.

To have Peter chase him was exciting. It had been exciting when Neal was literally on the run, and it was exciting now on a personal level. But Neal knew from experience that exciting didn't mean healthy, it didn't mean good, and with El in the picture, it was flat out wrong. Even if it felt so right.

"Let's see… Caffrey, Caffrey," the guard mumbled, flipping through his log. "Oh, yeah, you're in Number 2. Visitor's name is… Burke."

Neal's heart sped up a little, nervous sweat starting to rise on his palms. He didn't want to talk to Peter, couldn't talk to Peter. He was too afraid of what he might say with those strong, serious eyes staring him down. But apparently he didn't have a choice in the matter, because the guard gave him a shove in the direction of his booth.

Neal took a steadying breath as he approached the booth, then his eyes widened in surprise as he caught sight of his visitor. It was indeed a Burke, that much was true, but it wasn't Peter.

Elizabeth's lovely face was staring at him through the glass, a strange glint in her blue eyes. Neal's stomach fluttered a little, and he seriously considered standing up and walking off. But no. He was the one who'd walked the line, a hair's breadth from stealing her man away. Neal had wanted, so badly, to give into Peter's games and, if the Marshals hadn't swept him up, he was truly afraid he might have surrendered. Neal had committed a lot of crimes, but stealing Peter away from such an amazing wife would absolutely have been his worst.

The woman picked up the phone on her side, and Neal mirrored her on his, hands shaking a little as he held it to his ear.

"Hello, Elizabeth," he said in a soft voice, dropping his eyes so that he didn't have to look her in the face.

"Hello, Neal," she replied, voice as sweet and gentle as ever, despite the hard look in her gaze.

There was an awkward pause, then Neal spoke again. "So… Fancy seeing you here."

"I talked to Reese, Neal." Elizabeth's voice had gone flat. Obviously someone was ready to get down to business.

"Oh yeah?" Neal said meekly, raising his eyes just a smidge so he could catch the edge of her expression. "A nice conversation?"

"Why, Neal?" she asked, ignoring his question. She leaned toward the glass, a sorrowful look on her face. "Why would you do this to Peter? Why would you do this to *us*?" There was pain in her voice.

Neal's face went red. "I-I didn't do it to hurt anyone."

El shook her head. "Well, you did. You hurt a lot of people, Neal. Yourself most of all." She looked around pointedly. "You're in this place because of what you did. Don't you realize how crazy that is?"

"Yeah, who knew the sentence for adultery was federal prison?" Neal joked lamely. "Maybe I should demand a retrial."

"Not funny," El said shortly. "Not funny at all, Neal. Do you realize how much trouble you've caused? Peter is a mess."

"I swear, I was trying to do the right thing, Elizabeth," he said, suddenly desperate for her to believe him. "I tried to ignore it, I did, but he kept pressing and pressing… He wouldn't stop." He paused, not liking the way that sounded. "Psychologically, I mean. There was no physical pressing, I swear."

"He pressed because he loves you," El said softly. "That's why he wouldn't give up, whatever he likes to pretend. He *loves* you, Neal."

Neal shook his head. "No, he loves *you*. Not me. You. He… he was infatuated with me. I don't know why, but I *swear* El, I never meant for it to happen."

She stared at him for a long time then let out a sigh. "I believe you, Neal. I do. There are a lot of things I'm unsure of when it comes to you, but I know that you didn't come into this job looking to sweep my hubbie off his feet." She gave a short laugh. "Not that you needed to. I'm pretty sure Peter fell in love with you the moment you gave him that sucker."

"He didn't even *know* me then, El," Neal said quietly. "Hell, he didn't even know it was *me.*"

"Oh, he knew you," Elizabeth replied. "Maybe he didn't know you were a sure fire look alike of Michelangelo's Statue of David yet, but he knew you pretty damn well in the way it counted. It was just an added bonus that you turned out to be as hot as hell instead of a fat, middle ages balding man. Did you know that our friends actually mistook you for our son?"

Neal choked at that. "What?"

El smiled. "Oh, yes. Peter had a picture of you on the fridge. You were wearing a tux in it, and had a very attractive young lady on your arm. I'm not sure where he got it, but you couldn't have been more than twenty-one or twenty-two in it, and you looked even younger with those big, blue eyes of yours. The Millers had just moved in down the street so we invited them over for dinner. Maggie took one look at that photo and started crooning about how nice our son looked in that tux, and did you win Prom King, because with that lovely face, you should have won Prom King."

Neal couldn't help but laugh, a little of the heavy weight he'd been bearing since the Marshals dumped him here lifting off his shoulders. "Oh, you have to be kidding me."

"That is *exactly* what Peter said," Elizabeth replied, laughing as well. "Then he spent the rest of the night grumbling about how he was much to young to be your father."

"I don't know. Have you seen that show on MTV lately? '16 and Pregnant'? Kids these days…" Neal flashed her a quirky smile and she laughed again.

"Neal, sweetie, this needs to end."

Neal's smile faded away at the abrupt change of topic. "I know, El," he said seriously. "And that's why I'm here, right?"

El shook her head. "No, I don't mean like that." She glanced around the dirty room in distaste. "This isn't fixing anything. Peter is sitting at home moping his butt off—he actually called in sick for work twice this week—and you're here in this horrible place… This should never have happened. That call to Reese should never have happened."

"I love him, El," Neal said in a soft voice. "I love him enough that I don't want him to love me. He deserves someone better. He deserves you."

"You know, Neal, you talk like you're not a good catch, which is ridiculous. We *both* love Peter, and that's okay. Don't you see? It's okay. There's room for more than one love in a person's heart. If there weren't then it would be a pretty sad world."

Neal shook his head, pushing away a curl that fell across his face. "Not this kind of love. You can only love one person like that."

El raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying that if you can't have Peter to yourself, you don't want Peter at all?"

"What?" Neal's brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm not saying… I don't… What?"

Elizabeth smiled gently at him. "There's a lot of love in Peter, enough love to go around. You in here… It isn't protecting Peter, it's *hurting* him, because the love is already there in his heart. Maybe you haven't claimed it yet, but it's reserved for you and nothing is going to make it fade away. He needs you, Neal. *We* need you. I don't want to see my husband like this."

Neal's pulse was rushing a little too fast. "Are you saying… That you want to share Peter?"

"Well, I don't know that he'd like us referring to him like a bottle of wine, but yes, that's what I'm saying," El replied. She frowned slightly. "Well, actually, that's not entirely accurate. See, there's no decision to be made there. I'm *already* sharing him with you, have been sharing him with you for a long time. He just didn't want to admit it until now. So whatever you choose, it's already a done deal. Part of Peter's heart already belongs to you. Now you need to decide whether you're going to ignore it or embrace it."

Neal swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I-I don't think I have much of a choice there now, El," he replied quietly, voice only shaking a little. "What's done is done. I'm here now. You'll just have to help Peter get through it."

An smile bloomed on El's face. "Oh, you'd be surprised just how easy hitting the 'undo' button can be when your husband's a valued agent of the FBI. Plus Reese owed me a favor. I saved his granddaughter's Bat Mitzvah after the planner they'd hired caught a case of salmonella poisoning from her own food."

"Are you saying…" Neal couldn't finish the sentence, the hope building up inside him too strong to speak through.

"A special friend of mine from the US Marshals is packing up your cell right now." El lifted her hand to the glass, palm pressing against it. After a moment Neal lifted his as well, placing it opposite of hers, gratitude and excitement overcoming him.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you, Elizabeth."

She smiled again. "The things we'll do for the ones we love."

o o o

Peter wasn't taking his eyes off of Reese until he got some answers. He'd already been glaring at the man for twenty minutes while he chatted on the phone like Peter wasn't even there, hulking over the old bastard's desk like a giant waiting to pounce. He had never noticed how much Reese resembled a skeleton before now, and a skeleton was what the man was going to be if Peter didn't get some answers.

Finally Reese settled the phone back on its base, lifting his eyes up with a sigh as he leaned back in his chair, popping his knuckles. "Peter. How can I help you?"

Peter increased his Death Glare, doing his best to follow Obi Wan's advice. Focus, focus, focus… Unfortunately Reese didn't look like he was about to choke from the weight of the Force anytime soon. In fact, he didn't look like Peter's angry gaze was affecting him at all.

That was *really* annoying.

"I want to know who it was, Reese," Peter said, giving the old slug the double finger point for good measure. "Who put in the request? And don't tell me there wasn't a request, because the US Marshals *told* me that *you* were the one who called them in to take Caffrey and I *know* you wouldn't waste a good resource like that for *nothing!* Someone asked you to do this. Who was it? Was it Clinton? I swear if it was that I will rip him a new one. He always was jealous of Neal, the son of a—"

"It wasn't Jones," Reese cut in sounding exasperated. "Look, Peter, I know this is tough for you, but that information is classified."

Peter frowned. "It wasn't Diana, was it? She wouldn't do that. She likes Neal. He annoys the hell out of her, but she liked him… It was the motherfucker who always clogs up the coffee maker, wasn't it? He gave Neal a really mean look the other day—"

"Peter, for God's sake, get ahold of yourself!" Reese said, smacking a palm down on his desk. "I admit, I didn't want to do it, but now that I see how it's affecting you, I'm starting to think that getting rid of Caffrey was a good idea! You've lost your mind."

"Go to hell, Reese," Peter snapped back, well aware that it wasn't exactly the wittiest of comebacks, but what could he say? He kind of had lost his mind after Neal had left. He certainly hadn't been on his A game, that was for sure.

"Peter, I—"

Reese was interrupted by a sharp tapping on the door.

"We're busy!" Peter called out before Reese had time to play the damsel in distress seeking help from whatever probie was trying to bring him his mocha latte.

"Too busy for us?" came a cheerful female voice.

"El?" Peter said in disbelief, moving toward the door. "What are you doing here—" he cut off as the door swung open and he was suddenly face to face with none other than Neal Caffrey.

"Hey, Peter," Neal said, smiling sheepishly. "I guess I'm back. Miss me?"

Miss him? Miss him? Hell yes Peter had missed him! It was all he could do not to wrap his arms around that lanky figure and lift him up into the air.

"Oh God, Neal," Peter said, going for a friendly hug instead. "What's going on here?" He looked the man up and down, taking in the ugly orange scrubs and his fuzzy face. "You look like shit, buddy."

"Gee, what a sweet way to welcome back your partner, hon," El said as she stepped through the doorway, giving Peter's elbow a friendly pat. "Hello, Reese."

The man smiled. "Hello, Elizabeth."

"I take it you didn't tell him?" she asked, voice tinged with amusement as she glanced back over at Peter.

"Not a word," Reese said, mimicking zipping his lips.

Peter's mouth dropped open. "Wait, you knew he was coming back?"

"Surprise," Reese said dryly, though his eyes were twinkling.

"Gosh, Neal," Peter said, shaking his head, "I am so glad you're back." His eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't know who it was that put in the request for your transfer," he shot a look at Reese, "but when I find out, he's going to wish he'd never been born."

Elizabeth cleared her throat and Peter turned, raising an eyebrow at the uncomfortable look on her face.

"What?" Peter questioned, brow furrowing. "What is it?"

"About that transfer request…" She trained off, and Peter's mouth dropped open.

"Wait, *you* requested the transfer?" he asked, unable to believe it. His El, his sweet El, had sent Neal back to *prison*? "Why would you do that?"

"She didn't." Neal's voice was quiet, and when Peter looked back over at him, he had his eyes fixed on the floor. "Peter… I was the one who requested it. I left my radius on purpose, and Agent Hughes just made sure that the Marshals picked me up on it."

Silence had never seemed so loud. After what seemed like eternity, Peter collected his thoughts enough to talk. "You requested to go back to prison?" It sounded like a joke. Maybe it was a joke? God, he hoped it was a joke. "You're kidding me."

Neal shook his head, shoulders hunching slightly, his cheeks red. "I'm not. I requested the transfer back."

Peter shook his head, the idea not quite computing. "Why in God's name would you do that?"

The smaller man swallowed deeply, raising his eyes to meet Peter's. "I didn't want to ruin your marriage," he said, sounding miserable. "You… you started touching me and flirting with me and doing all this stuff… I didn't know what to do. Elizabeth is so perfect. You two are so perfect. I've never seen any couple who loves each other like you guys do. I was going to ruin it, and I couldn't do that. Not to the man I…" He licked his lips. "Not to you, Peter."

"That's crazy," Peter said, though his heart was pounding a little faster than normal as he looked back and forth between his wife and Neal. "I didn't—"

"Yes you did," El said simply. "Sweetie, everybody could see it. You're not exactly subtle. Remember the surveillance thing?"

Peter blushed. "I'm not that bad anymore."

"No, you're not," she agreed, "but you're still not subtle." She smiled, moving toward him. "But it's okay. We're okay." She reached out, gesturing for Neal to join them. He stepped up nervously, looking a little paler than usual. "We're going to work this out, the three of us, no prison necessary."

There was a clearing of a throat and Peter jumped a little, eyes widening at the rather amused look on Reese's face. He'd forgotten the man was there.

"Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off, Peter. Go get Caffrey back in his fancy ass suits before he keels over from the horror of looking like a traffic cone, then take some time to talk things over. I'll expect you two in bright and early tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir," Peter said, a slow smile growing on his lips as he turned back to El and Neal. "Shall we?" he asked, holding an arm out to each of them.

El let out a loud laugh as she took his left arm and Neal blushed, shaking his head. "No way."

"C'mon," Peter said teasingly, poking the other man with his elbow. "You know you want to." He looked deep into the other man's eyes, voice lowering slightly. "You know you do."

Neal laughed, running a hand through his hair. "You know what? I really do. But I'm totally not." He looked pointedly out the door down into the bullpen. "Besides, doesn't the Bureau have a policy about that?"

"We don't ask, we don't care," Reese called out. "Now get the hell out of my office."

El gave him a sharp salute. "Yes, sir. Come on, boys, let's get out of here." She dropped Peter's arm and strode out, tossing a smile back over her shoulder.

"You know," Peter said as he and Neal started down the steps, "if you ever try and protect me from myself again, I may have to kill you."

Neal let out a laugh. "Aw, you couldn't live without me."

Peter smiled as he watched the man walk off. If only Neal knew how true that was.

The End.