For Peter Burke, it had been one of those days - the kind where important paperwork gets accidentally shredded by the new intern, the better half of the team's out with the flu, and even simple tasks seem to be botched at every turn.
Consequently, when turning the corner onto June's street, he was thinking of nothing but what he would have to do to procure a hot meal and a hotter shower from his partner-in-every-sense (he did not anticipate the shower being an issue).
Perhaps this is why it took him a good twenty seconds longer than it should have to notice the two fire trucks parked across the street from June's apartment, and the small crowd that had formed in front of the steps.
"Neal." The word slipped from his lips unbidden, propelling his foot onto first the gas, then the brake, then stumbling out of the terribly parked car altogether.
He fumbled for his badge, using it to edge his way to the front of the crowd. Lurking at the edges of his mind were all the scenes of arson that he'd seen over the years: charred rooms, screaming loved ones, burned...remains.
Thankfully, he'd only had a few seconds of white-hot, all-consuming panic when he caught sight of the epicenter of the crowd: Neal Caffrey, very alive, very shirtless, and very close close to a gorgeous fireman.
"So, you see, I was so caught up in capturing the way the light always used to catch her eyes that I didn't even hear the alarm until Raoul here was banging on my door!" Peter wasn't sure who the intended recipient of this story was, but a good ten or twelve women (and a few men) were listening with rapt attention.
"You really didn't need to carry me all the way down," Neal added, grazing Raoul's bicep with his hand, "but I'm so grateful."
Peter was flooded with relief intense enough that it mitigated any instinctive territorial annoyance. He shoved his way past the one or two remaining onlookers and threw his arms around Neal before he could even get in a 'hello'.
"Peter!" Neal returned the embrace instantly, even as he observed, "You're going to get clay on your suit."
"Just gives you an excuse to throw it away," Peter said, not letting go. He grazed a hand over Neal's cheek, searching him for any sign of injury. "You okay?"
"Perfect, now. I'm sorry you were worried. It's just June's ancient smoke detectors - I've been telling her to change them for -"
Peter wasn't sure what about Neal discussing smoke detectors made him want to kiss him in front of a crowd of people, but he was tired enough that he simply went with it. There were some cheers and light applause around him, but he barely heard them. A meal and a shower were sounding more and more appealing by the second.
When he had satisfied himself that Neal was, indeed, perfectly fine, he retreated and turned his attention to the man standing beside him. "Are we cleared to go back in?"
"Technically, I should wait for the inspection, but this seems like a textbook case of faulty equipment. As long as your boyfriend swears to have his landlady update her alarms, you should be all clear."
Peter sent him a look of gratitude, before turning his attention to Neal once more. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Did he really carry you all the way down here?"
Neal shrugged, then grinned. "It could have been an emergency!"
He let out a surprised laugh as Peter swung his arms down to hoist him up. Now it was Peter who was grinning as he murmured, loud enough to be heard over the now raucous cheering, "Just in case of emergency."