A Friend In Need

Rating: PG
Summary: Peter has to leave town, El has to deal with an annoying customer and Neal calls in a few favors. You can always count on your friends, right?
Pairing: Peter/El, Neal (gen)
Spoilers: Not really
Word count: ~ 10.000

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, it's sad but true.

Notes: A huge THANK YOU to last1stnding for your incredible help! She wrote the Elizabeth and Peter scenes and gave me much needed insight as well as helpful hints. Also I want to say THANK YOU to chicca01 for her help with the translation of the Italian sentences! Mille grazie!

Chapter 1

Elizabeth Burke scurried around in the predawn darkness, gathering her purse, coat and keys all the while reassuring Satchmo, 'I won't be gone long.' Her husband, Peter, came down the stairs carrying a suitcase and wearing his bad news face.

"I still can't believe I have to fly all the way to Los Angeles for this," he grumbled, trying to negotiate the narrow stairs with the bag and the curious dog at the bottom. "I thought we were supposed to cut back on expenses; instead I get shipped out to a conference that could have been held on the east coast just as well."

Elizabeth smiled, having heard these complaints quite frequently ever since the memo had come down directing that Peter must attend. "Relax," she assured him. "It will be good for you to get away, even for three nights." She ran her hand across the back of his neck and frowned, just a bit. "You've been so tense lately; just pretend you're listening to what they have to say and then go to the bar with your buddies in the evening. Have some fun."

Predictably, Peter frowned and managed to look miserable at the same time as he put down the case and took the coat Elizabeth held out to him in her other hand. "This is a bad time to be gone," he muttered.

"Neal?" she asked.

Peter grimaced. "Who else?"

"Maybe he'll surprise you and behave," El said lightly while mentally making sure Peter had everything.

"That would be the day," Peter said irritably. "El, when he ran out of that office yesterday, he risked the success of the operation, telling the suspect insider information. Just because he had a hunch about our suspect. Not to mention that he put Jones in danger doing this! For a moment there I thought there would be a gunfight and all would end up dead. If he was an agent, I'd write him up for that."

"He's not agent," Elizabeth gently pointed out. "And Jones got himself out of the situation without getting injured."

"That is because Jones is a damn fine agent." Peter put down his case and ran his hand over the back of his neck Elizabeth had just removed her hands from, placing them instead at her husband's waist. "Are you trying to distract me from my totally justified wrath?"

Elizabeth smiled at the husky timbre of his voice. "Hon, I would love to distract you but you have a plane to catch and I have a ton of stuff to do before the party tomorrow night. There is nothing you can do about Neal now, so go out there and have some fun and some Neal free days. You can talk to him when you get back."

Peter remained glum although the light in his eyes shone with the warmth that was for her alone. "All right. I'll call you tonight."

"It might be late; I have to get with the caterer and make sure the florist has everything ready for tomorrow. If G.P. Wilson sees a wilted flower at his board of directors' party, there will be hell to pay." Almost involuntarily, Elizabeth's mind had switched over to the list of things to be done and when she looked at Peter she realized he was smiling. He knew her mind had wandered. Heaven knew she had seen him do it many times. "Oh. I guess you caught me."

Peter pulled her close and kissed her hungrily. "I will always catch you. It's my life's work."


Traffic was bad to the airport and Peter had very little time left to go through security and reach his gate. But El knew if anyone could do it, it would be Peter. She worried, just a little, on the drive back about her husband. He and Neal had been sniping at each other again; at first it was trivial but this last round had Neal running off on impulse and he had inadvertently endangered Jones. The danger had been minimal; well, if one could say having a gun pointed at you for a fast moment was minimal. But it had been completely unnecessary. Peter had exploded, Jones had said a few choice words and Neal, his pride wounded, had stalked off to pout. Really, men could be so dense at times.

This had caused Peter a near sleepless night before he left which, in turn, had caused El to lose some sleep even though her husband had tried not to disturb her. Hopefully, upon Peter's return, things would right themselves on their own. If not, perhaps she should arrange a lunch with the two of them. Or knock their heads together. Whatever worked.

Satchmo pulled on his leash ahead of her, relishing the cool day and crisp air. On days like this, he tended to forget his obedience training and the way he was pulling, El wished she had had Peter take him out for a short walk before he left. Oh well. "You're just going to have to put up with your Mom and some short walks for the next day or so," she informed the Lab. "We'll relax for a day and then your father will be home. I'll let you pull him around the block then."

Mentally running through the daunting list of what needed to be done, Elizabeth did not see the squirrel dart out from the small tree ahead. But Satch did. He gave a tremendous pull on the leash and started out in hot pursuit. Taken off guard, El staggered and then her foot caught on a segment of sidewalk that had been raised by the tree's roots. Twisted, her foot rolled sideways under her and unbelievable pain shot up her leg. She nearly fell but managed to hold on to the dog that, reluctantly, had given up on the squirrel and now looked somewhat shame faced back at her.

Oh, God, this hurts! Elizabeth tried to tell herself this would pass and soon she could hobble home but the pain was breath taking. She'd once seen Peter roll an ankle playing basketball with some fellow agents; she knew he was hurt; for one thing, he had to hobble over to where she was with the assistance of Clinton Jones and young Agent Blake. (Thankfully Neal was not present to see that.) But until now, she had no true idea of the pain her stoic husband had been in.

Looking around to make sure no one had noticed the silly woman with the out of control dog, she and a contrite Satchmo went back home, moving slowly.

It will pass. Just stay off of it for a while. It will pass.

Okay. She could do some of this at home, while on the phone. She would elevate her ankle and put ice on it. It would be okay.

But what a time for this to happen!

Carefully hobbling into the kitchen, El leaned at the big table in the middle of the room and let out a deep breath. The way up the stairs towards the front door had been a challenge, but in the end she had managed to enter the house without any other incidents. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next.

Right. Ice. Elevate. That should work.

A few moments later she slowly limped back into the living room where she could see Satchmo laying next to the sofa. She wasn't angry at him, since it was her own fault that she hadn't been paying attention at the park. But the timing was bad. Very bad. Holding an ice pack in one hand and her cell phone in the other she sat down and propped her now badly swollen right ankle on the sofa. Then she draped a towel over it before she applied the ice pack on it. Leaning back, she closed her eyes again and took deep breaths to calm down. She was still upset about the whole thing, but she needed to stay collected. She needed to get in touch with her assistant Yvonne and everything would be alright. The G.P. Wilson party was too important to be cancelled at all and she doubted that Wilson would accept it anyway. At least he would sue her for everything that would go wrong. Picking up her cell phone, she pressed "5" on speed dial and waited impatiently.

"Hi, you just reached Yvonne. I'm not available at the moment. Please leave a message and I will call you back. Bye."

Sighing, El was about to quit the call. She ran a hand through her hair, slowly getting frustrated.

Great. Just great.

"Hi Yvonne. It's Elizabeth. I know it's kind of a short term, but I need your help with the G.P. Wilson party. Please call back. Thanks." She put the cell back on the table and wasn't sure what to do next. Maybe she just overreacted. Maybe with the ice cooling her ankle she would be able to get back to work again. Carefully she moved her right foot a bit and immediately a sharp pain shot through her feet. "Ouch!"

Okay, so much for being confident.

Looking at her watch she realized that Peter still would be sitting in the plane so there was no way to call him right now. And even if she had been able to reach him, there was nothing that he could have done to help her. All she could do now was to wait for Yvonne to call back. There was still time left so nothing was at stake. There was no need to panic. Everything would be okay.


"Caffrey!" Hughes stood in front of his office and was performing the double finger point.

Neal looked up to him and then back to Jones. Since Peter was out of town, he would be handled by someone else and Neal wasn't sure if that was a good thing. Especially after he had risked the whole investigation and put Jones in unnecessary danger. Not that he had planned to do it, but things went out of his control and he chose to handle things off the book. Unfortunately things had gone worse and for a split second the situation had been out of control. Presumably Hughes was about to give him a lecture. Just like Peter had done. Readjusting his tie, he put on his well known Caffrey smile and started to climb the stairs. "Sir?"

The older agent just pointed towards the office and otherwise stayed silent. It wasn't a secret that he wasn't exactly fond of the former con man and Peter had more than once needed his whole persuasiveness towards his boss to keep partnership between the FBI and Neal working. He stepped into the office once Neal had entered it. "Sit down," he told Neal and then rounded his desk but didn't sit down. Instead he stared at the young man and seemed to be searching for the right words.

Neal obeyed, unsure what to expect. But he didn't show his insecurity. He was a con man at all and still flashed his smile.

Hughes on the other hand looked more than agitated. "I've read Peter's report about what happened yesterday," he started. "And to be honest, I was about to put you back into prison for what you did."

Wow, Peter had been fast with his report. He must have emailed it to Hughes before leaving town. "Sir, I had to improvise-"

"Don't say a word," Hughes warned him with his right index finger raised. "You'll listen to me and then you'll do what you've been told. Understood?"

"Absolutely," Neal nodded and felt a bit uneasy. It wasn't useful to argue with Peter's boss.

"Alright," Hughes continued with a low voice. "Peter insisted that I shouldn't press charges against you. Why, I don't know. You play a very dangerous game, Caffrey. I don't care if you kill yourself with those stupid actions of yours. But the moment one of my agents is harmed because of you there's no way to stop me sending you back. Got that?"

"Yes, sir."

"For the next three days, until Peter is back, you'll be doing paperwork and Diana will be in charge of you."

Without showing his surprise, Neal nodded again. Being handled by Diana wasn't something he was looking forward to. Ever since she threatened him to break one or both of his arms if he would try pull anything over her he had to be cautious. Because he was sure she would fulfill her threat without hesitation. Plus, his Caffrey charm never worked on her.

"You can go now."

"Yes, sir. Thank you sir." He stood up and left the office still somewhat stunned about what just had happened. Yet, the things could have been worse. Three days of paperwork were certainly far better than being sent back to prison. He could handle that. Somehow. He just needed to find Agent Blake and convince him to write some more reports. For training purposes only of course.

Jones looked up to him. "How did it go?" After he had calmed down yesterday he wasn't angry anymore. He was well aware that Neal had exposed him to a very dangerous situation, but on the other hand - working with Neal held that certain amount of thrill of having a target on the back. Or having to fear that someone would point a gun to his head. It wasn't something he wanted to happen every day but, in hindsight, the danger wasn't as bad as some of the situations Jones had been in before. Just… unexpected.

"I'm handled by Diana now," Neal answered.

Jones grinned. "Sorry for that."

"Yeah, well," Neal snorted, "I can clearly see that."

"Hey, it's only fair," Jones countered, still smiling.

"And for the next three days it's desk duty only." He made a face and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"You're a lucky man," Jones said nonchalantly. "At least you're not assigned to the van."

A light shiver rand down his spine. Jones was right. "On second thought it isn't that bad at all," he quickly replied. Then he held out his hand. "I'm truly sorry about what happened yesterday."

Jones hesitated for a moment. "Just don't do something like that again. At least not when I'm involved."

Neal was about to say something, when Diana stepped towards them. "Caffrey, stop chit-chatting," she told him and clearly seemed to enjoy the moment. "Those files need to be completed."

To be continued...