Neal woke up slowly, rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand as he stretched. He let out a breath, feeling groggy. He rolled over and blinked until the numbers on the alarm clock came into focus; as soon as they did, he let out a low moan. It was six AM and he'd slept all of two and a half hours.
You shouldn't have stayed up so late last night, a concerned voice that sounded sort of like Elizabeth's said in his mind.
It wasn't like it it was his fault, a Mozzie-sounding voice countered. The bureaucracy keeps him busy.
We didn't force him to stay there.That one sounded like a defensive Diana. He pictured Jones calming her down.
Neal moved the pillow on top of his face, wondering why his friends were suddenly deciding to have conversations in his head. And why they had to be so loud.
You're acting a lot like you're hungover, his Inner Peter said suspiciously. That one, at least, he was used to. You didn't drink while you were doing paperwork, did you? Because we need those to be accurate.
"No," Neal snapped, then he brought his hand down on top of the pillow. Hearing the voices was one thing, responding was another altogether. "All of you, just shhh." Neal blinked several more times, sitting up slowly. He wouldn't be able to go back to sleep; he'd had that difficultly ever since he was a child. Once he was up, he was up for good.
Standing up before he could think about it too much more, he quickly made his bed and picked up a suit. On his way past, he spared a withering look for the cardboard box or paperwork sitting malignantly on the table.
Neal turned the shower water on as hot as he could stand and closed his eyes. They'd finished a particularly stressful case yesterday, one that had involved a lot of long days and late nights. Yesterday had been no exception, with them first having to work on a Sunday, and then not actually apprehending the guy until after eleven. It'd been nearly eleven-thirty when Neal was finally allowed to go home, but he didn't go home alone.
Definitely not alone. He'd had a box the size of a small cow, all full of paperwork that Peter wanted by tomorrow- well, today. And Neal had done it all.
He didn't blame Peter for giving it all to him. He probably hadn't been thinking when he'd told Neal to have it ready by their meeting. It had been late, after all. But Neal didn't want even the smallest thing to irritate their relationship.
So, he did the paperwork, staying up until just after three to do so. It probably wouldn't even make a difference to Peter, having it done today, but Neal wasn't taking any chances. Ever since he'd gone off the path, so to speak, and tried to take Fowler down, Peter had been less than happy with him.
Once he was finished getting ready for the day, he straightened up the paperwork in the box and got himself some coffee and toast with fruit. He ate slowly, his mind torn between the useless information it had been forced to sort, and the pertinent but unpleasant events of a few weeks prior. Still, he reminded himself, Peter did seem more trusting on that last stakeout. It was an improvement, at least.
His phone buzzed and he picked it up, smiling slightly as he saw the Agent in question's name on the screen.
I'll pick you up in ten.
Neal quickly typed a response, covering a yawn. Sounds good!
With newly brushed teeth and a cheerful grin, Neal hefted the box into Peter's car.
"Morning, Peter," he said, sitting in the passenger seat.
"Good morn-" the word was cut off by a yawn, "morning. Didja sleep well?"
"Very," Neal said pleasantly, grimacing inwardly. "How about you?"
"I always do when we've just finished a case," the agent said with a nod. "But it was still a late night, either way." Neal's grin widened. Oh, you have no idea.
"I'll say," Neal said appreciatively. "So, what's on the agenda today?"
"We have a quick meeting, then we have to go pick up some info downtown on a mortgage fraud case we'll be working."
Why are the most boring cases always when we need excitement? Wondered Neal. But he nodded. "Sounds like a plan."
"Did you finish all of that?" Peter asked after a few moments of silence, casting the box a glance.
"Yeah," Neal said breezily. "Most of it was easy, though. Barely took any time at all."
"Uh-huh." The look Peter gave him was dry. "And how much sleep did you say you got?"
"Plenty," Neal assured him with a grin, enjoying the little dance even as he concealed another yawn.
"Whatever you say." Peter rolled his eyes slightly and they pulled up to the FBI headquarters. Neither Jones nor Diana were in the WCU, and Neal lifted the box onto the later's desk to get it out of the way.
"Are we meeting by ourselves?" Neal asked slowly, looking around.
"No, someone will be here," Peter said confidently. "Or... maybe not." Even the break room, usually full of caffeine-deprived Agents at this hour, was pretty quiet.
"Well, we can just go over the file before we go, I guess," Neal said hesitantly.
"Alright." Peter shrugged. The lull of the agent's voice reading the extremely boring case (even as mortgage fraud went) only served to worsen Neal's difficulty in struggling to remain awake.
"Looks like that's it," Peter said brusquely, snapping him out of his reverie. "Time to go get the rest of the details."
"Great." Neal picked up his jacket and pulled it on.
"Be excited about it," Peter prompted, elbowing him in the side.
Neal gave a bright grin. "Yay."
Peter rolled his eyes. "Better."
They got into the car and Neal leaned his head back, eyes drifting shut. He hadn't realized they'd arrived until Peter poked his shoulder. He started and looked up to see the agent standing outside the open car door, smirking. "Ready to go?"
"Yes," Neal said with as much dignity he could gather. They made their way into the building and Neal frowned. "It doesn't look like there's anyone here."
"Maybe they're out back," Peter said.
"Okay," Neal agreed with a shrug. They continued through until they'd reached the back doors. Peter opened it and Neal walked through.
"Surprise!" A bunch of voices said. Neal jumped back and laughter erupted.
Elizabeth, Mozzie, June, Jones, Diana, and a few others were standing in the midst of some bright decorations. Neal's brow creased in confusion.
"What's all this for?" He asked.
"Your birthday, silly," Elizabeth said with a smile. Peter came up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.
"The big double three," said the Agent teasingly. "If the books speak accurately."
Neal shrugged sheepishly, looking around. He'd genuinely forgotten his own birthday. "Thank you guys. Thanks a lot, this means a lot to me." Elizabeth hugged him tightly.
"You're welcome," she said. "You deserve it."
Neal let out a breath, feeling some of his stress and fatigue melting away. "This is great."
"Thanks," Elizabeth said with an appreciative nod. "Now, come open your presents."
"Presents?" Neal laughed. It'd been nearly six years since he'd last celebrated his birthday. Four, obviously, being spent in prison, and the two before that having been to busy running with Kate to do anything. "You didn't have to do that."
"But we wanted to," insisted Elizabeth. She pulled him over to the table and he opened several packages. Jones and Diana had gotten him a book on Renaissance art that looked very old and valuable. Mozzie presented a smaller, portable bug scanner.
"In case you can't call me in time," he offered.
Elizabeth gave him a small, soft package, and he laughed when he opened it. He held up two pairs of the dog-covered socks he'd once teased Peter over. The Agent nudged him in the side, grinning.
"Now we can match," he said deviously. Neal rolled his eyes at the man and hugged El.
"Thank you," he said sincerely. "And was that cake I saw over there?"
"Whoa, whoa, don't get ahead of yourself," said Peter. "I haven't given you mine yet."
"I thought this was from both of you," Neal said, shrugging slightly. In truth, he hadn't been sure if Peter had forgiven him yet.
"Nope," Peter said, shaking his head. "Here you go."
Neal unwrapped the small, square package slowly, pulling out a photo album. His eyes stung as he opened it and flipped through, seeing dozens of pictures of him and Kate.
"I went through all our records and the surveillance photos," Peter said softly. "I knew you didn't have very many of them, so..." He trailed off, shrugging.
Neal wiped at the corner of one eye, pretending it had been an eyelash. "Thank you," he said, his voice slightly rough. He gave the agent a quick, tight hug. "Thank you."
Peter nodded, ruffling Neal's hair with a slightly relieved grin. And then everything was back to normal. As they cut the chocolatey cake, Neal looked around contentedly. Maybe everything was looking up, after all.