The hotel was one that Neal had stayed in once before when he was in New York. He'd been younger then. Now, he wasn't hiding from the FBI. In fact, he was in the company of an agent. Quite beautiful company, in fact, even if he knew she was completely off limits.
"How long do we have to stay here?" Diana asked, looking around the room. Her gaze settled on the bed. The one bed.
Neal slipped off his jacket and draped it over the couch. "All night," he answered. "So... flip you for the bed?"
She made a face, still inspecting it. "We should share it. In case Oscar checks in on us. We're supposed to be married, right darling?"
Neal grinned. "That we are, my dear."
He took the grin off his face when she shot him a serious look. "Any funny business from you and I'll make sure you never have children."
Neal nodded without a word. He knew she meant it.
It was already late, so Diana went into the bathroom to change out of her dress while Neal just slipped off his shirt, wishing he'd had the foresight to pack something a little more comfortable to sleep in. But they hadn't thought Oscar would test them like this, so it looked like he'd be sleeping in his pants.
When Diana returned, she was back in casual clothes, and she looked at Neal, looking like she wanted to tell him to put his shirt back of, for god's sake, but she didn't.
She shut off the lights and crawled into bed, taking the right side, so Neal slipped in on the left, being sure to keep space between them.
"Get over here," Diana hissed. "You look like you're gonna fall off the bed. We're supposed to be a couple."
She was right, so Neal scooted closer, feeling a little awkward. But also it was Diana. He'd never been this close to her before, and it excited him of course, despite knowing it was never going to happen.
It took a while for him to fall asleep, but he did eventually, only to be woken up when he felt Diana nudge him in an area that instantly made his eyes snap open in surprise. He shifted away a little, looking over at her. Her eyes were still closed, and she looked like she was asleep.
"Hey," Neal whispered, getting no reply. She must have just moved in her sleep.
He closed his eyes again, rolling onto his side so it couldn't happen again, but as soon as he did that, he felt her drape an arm over his shoulder and she mumbled, "Where you going?"
"Nowhere," Neal said back. He was surprised again when she tugged on him, trying to pull him closer to her. "What?" he asked, but she said nothing, only kept pulling on him, so he rolled back over to face her, about to repeat the question, but her lips prevented him from doing so and he stared in shock as she kissed him a little too hard to be any sort of cover. What was she trying to tell him? Was this a test? Some kind of code he hadn't been informed of?
He said nothing, staying frozen to the spot as she wrapped her arms around him in a drunken way, smiling and looking at him through half-lidded eyes.
Neal wasn't sure why he did what he did next. It didn't really feel like it was him, in a way. He didn't seem to have much control over it. He hardly even noticed when Diana's hands slipped down to his waist, too preoccupied with the clip on her bra.
From there, things only escalated. Neal didn't even remember much of it, only that it was hot and hard and so very wrong. But Diana seemed to be under the same spell as he was, not even knowing why, but somehow needing it.
By the time it was over and they both lay beside each other panting, their clothes were tossed about the room and the blankets were tangled by their feet. One of the lamps on the bedstand had been knocked to the ground, but neither of them cared, and as Neal lay there, he got a bad feeling about this whole thing, and not just because of Diana's earlier threat. It was that too, sure, but it was also something else. Something he couldn't identify.
The two of them finally looked at each other and he saw the same fear in her eyes. They stared, wanting to ask each other the same questions, but unable to think of where to start.
Without a word, Neal slipped out of the bed, gathering up his clothes to slip them back on.
He didn't go back to sleep that night and neither did Diana.
-)()(-
The incident was never spoken of. Neal kept his mouth shut about it, and so did Diana. It was a silent pact not to tell another living soul, and neither of them was willing to break it.
No one knew but them.
Neal apologized once, and Diana immediately told him to shut up. She didn't want to think about it. But she apologized as well, and that sort of set them at an uneasy truce. Really, they were both equally confused, but as long as they didn't bring it up, it would slowly be forgotten and they could get on with their lives.
Peter seemed to sense that something was up, but Neal wasn't worried. He'd never be able to figure it out, not with who Diana was.
Things seemed to start going back to normal. Diana went back to acting like Diana, teasing him in the van and around the office. Neal actually thought they'd get away with it.
Then the day came a month or so later.
Neal was at home, enjoying a peaceful Sunday morning without having to rush in to the office. He was out on the balcony, a mug of Italian roast in front of him and a newspaper in his lap.
He heard the door open and figured it might be Peter, come to pick him up for some new lead on a case, but when he glanced up, the friendly greeting of "Morning, Peter" died on his lips and he blinked in surprise. Diana walked directly over and stared down at him for a second, then said almost calmly, "Neal, I'm pregnant."
Neal was on the verge of grinning and congratulating her, but the way she'd said it and the way she was looking at him now indicated that that would be the wrong reaction. Was she saying...?
He leaned away from her a small bit, stopping himself from laughing. "Excuse me? Are you...?"
"Would I joke about this?" Diana snapped.
"I don't think so," Neal said. He honestly had no idea how to react other than to just keep denying that it was happening. It couldn't be his. That night had been... well, actually, he couldn't quite remember it, like a fog had blocked out the memory. Was he still dreaming?
"This isn't possible," he said firmly.
"Apparently it is," Diana shot back. "Do you have any idea what I'm supposed to do now? If you do, I'd love to hear it."
Neal shook his head. "I don't even know what happened," he insisted. "Do you? Because it seemed to me like you instigated that whole thing."
"Oh, so you're blaming me," she snorted. "I..." she couldn't even finish, bringing a hand to her face and speaking in a softer tone. "I don't know what happened either. It's just a mess." She sank into the chair next to Neal's. "What are we supposed to do?"
Neal shook his head, rubbing his temples. "I— I have no idea. Should we... tell anyone?"
She looked conflicted about that. "Like who? Peter?"
Neal shrugged. "He's gonna find out eventually."
Diana sighed. "You're right. We should get it out of the way now."
Neither of them moved, though, sitting there in silence for what felt like a long time before Neal handed her an extra mug from the table. "Coffee?"
"God, yes."
-)()(-
The months went by fast. Neal and Diana decided to keep it a secret for as long as possible, but once her belly started showing, they were forced to tell the truth.
Everyone else was just as confused as they were themselves. Neal had nine months to get used to the idea of a kid and even he wasn't prepared for the day when it came.
He stayed out in the hall with Peter, standing there staring at the door and flinching with every scream that came from within. Peter sat in a chair behind him, occasionally trying to start a conversation, but Neal couldn't focus.
"Neal?" Peter's voice spoke from suddenly much closer and when Neal turned to look at him in surprise, he found that his vision had gone quite blurry and he blinked a few times to try and clear it.
"Neal," Peter said again. His face seemed to shift oddly and Neal squinted at him in confusion. What was wrong with him? Why did it feel like the room was spinning?"
"Neal!" Peter snapped his fingers and suddenly, Neal found himself lying on his back, blinking up at his friend. He sat up quickly, puzzled to find himself on a bed in a familiar hotel with Peter and a whole team of agents surrounding him. Diana was beside him, also sitting on the bed looking confused.
"What's going on?" Neal asked.
"Your covers were blown," Peter said. "We think Oscar had you two drugged. When we didn't hear from you, we moved in, but he was already gone."
Neal glanced over at Diana, who looked very not-pregnant. She wore the same clothes he remembered her putting on that night.
"You okay?" Peter asked, looking at him in concern.
"What day is it?" Neal asked.
"Thursday," Peter replied. "Now answer me. Are you okay?"
Neal glanced over at Diana again. "Yeah... Uh, I think so." He felt like he'd stepped back in time, which was completely disorienting, but he was also immensely glad for it. Although that didn't mean last night hadn't happened. It had seemed so real.
He and Diana were brought to the hospital, just to be safe, and on the way there, Neal kept glancing over at her until she sighed. "What, Caffrey?"
"Did you, uh... have any weird dreams?"
She looked at him, puzzled. "No. Why?" She didn't seem all that concerned about it, just miffed that she'd been drugged without knowing.
"No reason," Neal said.
He'd probably never feel comfortable around her again.
