The first flakes of snow fluttered gently to the ground as he wandered through the quiet streets of Manhattan. It was late on Christmas Eve, and the city seemed strangely empty. Oh, there were surely people gathered in Times Square – though not nearly the crowd that would be there a week hence. But he was downtown, and everything was closed, though the holiday lights in the shop windows were still brightly lit.

Overhead, the city decorations sparkled. The streetlights were strung with garland, bows, bells…

Silver bells, silver bells, it's Christmas time in the city…

Neal hummed a few bars of the song, then stopped to listen as the breeze brought the sound of bells to his ears. That was coming from the Christmas tree the next block over, the one decorated with hundreds of tiny silver bells…

He resumed his pace, turning down another street, savoring the chilly nip in the air. There was more snow as well, swirling in wind-blown designs as he walked.

It was a far cry from a few Christmases he'd spent. Two years in a row he'd been in Germany, with the wonderful and varied Christmas markets. And the year in Switzerland, snowed in in a cozy alpine lodge. And he had vague, warm memories of happy holidays as a young child, before… before everything fell apart.

Of course, this year was quite different from the holidays he had spent in prison as well. There, Christmas had been little more than another mark on the wall as he counted the days.

This wasn't quite the way he had pictured this Christmas going. In prison, he'd dreamed about the holidays he'd have, Kate at his side, children around the tree…

But Kate was gone, long gone in the explosion.

June was visiting her children. Peter and Elizabeth were spending Christmas Eve with her family. Mozzie was… well, Mozzie was off doing whatever it was that Mozzie did. Even Neal wasn't quite sure what his friend did when he disappeared around the holidays.

And so, he was walking, with no real purpose. The city was his friend, the night his ally.

A warning beep interrupted his thoughts and he looked down, scowling. He could see the reflection of the flashing red light in a small puddle of melted snow by his feet.

Obviously he'd reached the two mile limit.

He turned, changing directions. A limit hit heading one way meant that he still had other options available to him. And he still felt like walking.

"Oh, I'm exhausted." Elizabeth kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the couch, not even bothering to remove her coat.

"It was a long day," Peter agreed. He turned off the porch light, locked the door. He hung his jacket up and then sat down next to his wife. "El, you know I love your family…"

"They can be a bit much at times."

"Yeah."

She smiled and reached for his hand, kissing his palm. "Well, thank you for being a trooper."

"Anything for you."

"And tomorrow is just for us."

"Even better." Peter leaned over and kissed her, and then got to his feet. Walking over to the table, he powered up his laptop.

"Peter?"

"I just want to check a couple of things."

Elizabeth sighed and got to her feet. She picked up the bag of leftovers they'd brought home and started toward the kitchen, looking over her husband's shoulder as she went.

"Peter, is that Neal's tracking data?"

He gave her a combination nod and shrug in reply.

"Wouldn't you have gotten a call if he had gone out of his radius?"

"Well, yes." He tapped a few keys, frowning at the screen. "This doesn't make sense."

She leaned in closer. "What doesn't?"

"He's been all over the place," Peter explained, looking at an overlay of the last few hours.

"But not out of his radius?"

"Well, yes and no. These red dots show where he did go out of his area."

"But no one called?"

"He got back inside his radius right away. I mean, we can't be sending people out to get him if he steps out but comes right back."

"Kind of like a time delay?"

"Yeah, kind of. We told Neal he has thirty seconds. It's more like a couple of minutes before the call gets made, but no sense having him push the limit."

"So what's he doing?"

Peter's finger traced the path, following the time stamps on the dots that made up the map. "Looks like he's just walking. He's got to be on foot given the times."

"Do you think Mozzie or someone is with him?"

Peter shook his head. "Neal said Mozzie usually disappears for a few days around the holidays."

"So he's just out wandering alone this late on Christmas Eve? Peter…"

He already had his phone out, hitting the speed dial…

It was snowing harder now, and the wind had definitely picked up. Walking had ceased to be such a pleasant option…

He felt the vibration of the phone against his hand, which was stuffed in his jacket pocket. Pulling the phone out, he took a quick look at the display.

Peter.

Peter and Elizabeth were supposed to be enjoying Christmas Eve with her family, so why was the agent calling him? Sure, he'd set the tracking alarm off a few times, but always got right back in range.

He was curious, but he really didn't feel like talking right then. And he had clearly been given the time off until after Christmas, so it shouldn't be anything work related.

Neal stuffed his hand, and the phone, back into his pocket and kept walking.

"He's not answering."

Elizabeth looked out the window into the back yard. "It's getting kind of nasty out there. Where is he?"

"Still almost two miles from June's. El…"

She had already turned toward the door. "Let's go."

Peter got up, unplugging the laptop and bringing it with him. "El, you don't have to go."

"Peter, you don't have to go either. But he's just been wandering for hours, and the weather is getting worse." She bent down to get her shoes. "It's almost Christmas Day, and he's probably all alone."

He crossed the room, wrapping an arm around her waist. "I love you, you know."

"Mmmm, and I'm going to remind you of that later. Now why don't you get Neal's present from under the tree and let's make sure he's all right."

The glow from the headlights washed over him, and he heard the crunch of the tires on the snow that was accumulating on the street. But he didn't really pay attention until he heard his name being called.

"Peter?"

Neal stepped off the sidewalk toward the car, regretting it as his foot hit a small drift near a tree and snow dropped into his shoe. Peter had gotten out of the car and was walking around the front, casting shadows in the headlights.

Elizabeth waved from the passenger seat and Neal started to return the gesture, and then stopped, staring at what she was holding. "Is that my tracking data?" he asked, looking over at Peter.

"We were worried about you," Elizabeth said, setting the laptop aside as she got out of the car.

Neal's eyes were still locked on Peter. "You were monitoring me on Christmas Eve?" His voice held a mixture of disbelief and… hurt.

Peter shrugged, managing to look a little guilty. "Your tracking link is my homepage, you know that. You've given me grief about it often enough. I was just going to log in and see if there was anything new on the Kessel case, and I saw all the red dots on your data…"

"I was never out of area for more than thirty seconds."

"I know. Neal, you're not in trouble. Like El said, we were worried."

"Neal, this isn't walking weather," Elizabeth said. "And you're really not dressed for it."

Which was true… "It wasn't as cold when I started walking," he admitted.

Elizabeth took his arm and pulled him toward the car. "Well, it's cold now," she said. "We're giving you a ride home."

He let himself be led, and he climbed into the back seat as Peter reclaimed his seat in the front.

By car, it only took a few minutes until they were pulling up in front of June's.

"Thanks for the ride," Neal said as he started to get out. "I'm sorry I worried you…" His voice trailed off as Peter killed the engine, and then he and Elizabeth got out as well. "Look, I promise I won't go walking again tonight. You can go home."

"Grab that bag that was on the seat by you," Elizabeth said, ignoring his advice.

"You're not getting rid of us that easy," Peter added. "Might as well accept it, and grab the bag."

Neal watched as they started for the steps, then grabbed the bag as directed and followed. He unlocked the door and then led the way upstairs. Hopefully once they saw he was settled in his apartment he could convince the others he was fine, and they could go…

He opened the final door, flipped on the lights, and set the bag on the table. Then he kicked his shoes off and hung his light jacket over a chair. "Look, no shoes, no jacket. I promise, I'm home for the night."

"Have you eaten anything?" Elizabeth asked as she started to rummage in the bag.

"Breakfast," Neal admitted. "Actually, more like brunch. It was later."

"Well, you're going to eat now."

"I thought you were spending the holiday with your family."

"We spent today with them," Elizabeth said, starting to set out food.

"We just got home a little bit ago," Peter added.

"And then ran right out again because of me?" Neal asked.

"Want to talk about the walking?"

"Peter, you know I hate it when you answer a question with a question."

Elizabeth interrupted them. "Neal, help me find a pot to heat the scalloped potatoes in."

The smell of the food she was unwrapping made his stomach rumble traitorously, confirming that he was hungry. He went over to the kitchen area and retrieved a small kettle. "Elizabeth, I appreciate the food, I really do. But I can do this. I feel bad about taking you guys away from home."

"It's a holiday, Neal. You shouldn't be alone."

"Better alone than certain other options," he said softly. "Look, I'm fine, really. I just needed to think."

"Find any answers?" Peter asked.

Neal sighed and opted for time to consider his answer. He selected a bottle of wine and opened it slowly, then poured three glasses.

Elizabeth had everything heating and she joined them at the table as Neal took a sip of wine, rolled it on his tongue for a long moment, and finally swallowed. "Every year in prison, around the holidays, I'd start thinking what Christmas was going to be like when I got out," he started.

"What was Christmas like inside?" Elizabeth asked, and then she gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry, you probably don't want to talk about…"

"No, it's all right," Neal said, and then he shrugged. "A day like any other – another tick mark on the wall." He paused, and then slowly shook his head. "No. No, actually that's not true. They did tend to give us better food on holidays, but beyond that, the prison tried to run as close to a skeleton crew as possible, to give the guards more time with their families. That meant we were locked up pretty much the whole day." He swirled his glass, watching the wine form circles. "Some of the guards sympathized, knowing it was hard for us being away from family and friends. And some of the guards just resented us for keeping them away from their families. Bobby…" He smiled, focused on a memory. "Bobby would let us sing Christmas carols if he was on. But if it was Dornmuller, he wouldn't even let us talk."

"So what did your Christmas future look like?" Peter asked gently.

"I wanted what you guys have," Neal replied, almost whispering. "You know, the house, the tree, the dog, maybe a cat – Kate loved cats. But whatever else, it would be me and Kate, and that was all that mattered." He stared down at his wine. "I thought I was going to get it last year. Well, at least have Kate. It was a few weeks before Christmas, I had the papers from OPR, we were going to be together…"

"And then the plane exploded," Peter supplied into the silence.

Neal nodded. "And I wound up back in prison for another Christmas."

"I tried to get you out. You'd agreed to the new deal, but paperwork…"

"I know. And really, it was probably best. I think I was still in shock."

"So what about this Christmas?" Elizabeth asked, reaching for his hand. "You're all alone."

Neal smiled and shook his head. "Not really. I always thought of New York City as kind of a friend. That's why I kept coming back, even after I knew Peter was chasing me."

"So you were just visiting an old friend tonight?" Peter asked.

Neal nodded. "The city is usually so busy and loud during the day. But tonight, with the stores closed and most people off with family and friends… it was just so different. The Christmas decorations were all lit up, and there were bells. It was peaceful, and quiet."

"And cold," Elizabeth added.

"All right, maybe I should have looked at the forecast before I left," Neal admitted, grinning. "At least worn a heavier coat." She patted his hand and got up to check on the food that was heating as he continued. "The thing is though, I chose to go walking. It was nice to have that choice."

Neal turned to his partner. "Peter, I'm sorry you were worried. I didn't mean to interrupt your holiday."

"Well, I'm glad you're all right," Peter said. "But if you had answered your phone, I would have known that."

Neal gave that a small smile and a shrug. "I just needed the time alone. And you did tell me I had the time off."

"Like I said, Neal, you're not in trouble. But you know, if you had frozen out on a street corner somewhere, I would have had so much paperwork to fill out…"

Neal just laughed. "Well, I'm glad I didn't put you through that then!"

"Well, I'm glad too," Elizabeth said, laying her right hand on Neal's shoulder. Her left hand held a thin package, which she put on the table in front of him. "Open your present."

Neal picked up the package, held it close to his ear, and shook it. "It's not ticking," he noted.

"Ha, ha. If it was going to explode, El and I would have just dropped it off and run," Peter pointed out.

Neal grinned and slid his finger under the tape, opening one end and sliding a box out. He lifted the lid and grinned. "New gloves."

Peter shrugged. "I know you just ruined a pair changing that tire."

Neal slipped one of the gloves on and held up his hand, flexing his fingers. "Perfect. Thank you."

Peter pointed at the box. "There's, uh… something else."

Neal lifted out the other glove and removed a slip of paper; his eyes went wide as he read. "This is for The Cloisters," he said softly. "That's outside my…"

"Radius," Peter finished. "I know. And I know you've wanted to see the Gossart exhibition. Just let me know when you want to go, and I'll clear it."

Neal let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. "Thank you." He slid out from under Elizabeth's hand and went over to his bookcase, returning with an envelope. "Not exactly fancy wrapping," he said, handing it to Elizabeth. "But I hope you'll like it."

She took the envelope and went to stand next to Peter before opening it. And when she removed the contents… "Oh, Neal! Tickets to see 'Memphis' on New Year's Day."

"I know you wanted to see it," Neal said, smiling at her smile.

"Oh, I did – and these are premium seats! Those are impossible to get…"

"Not if you know someone who knows someone…" Neal caught Peter's look and grinned. "Relax, Peter, I may have had help actually getting the tickets, but I paid for them."

"I hope so," Peter said. It seemed like he was trying to sound tough, but the smile he was favoring his wife with kind of negated the tone.

Neal leaned a little closer to Elizabeth, speaking in a rather loud stage whisper. "Elizabeth, if he won't give up the football games that day, just let me know. I'll…"

Peter cleared his throat and pulled El in closer to him. "That's my wife," he said, failing miserably at keeping a straight face. "And some things are worth missing football for," he added, kissing her. "Thank you, Neal."

Elizabeth turned her attention to the stove again, and a moment later she put a plate down in front of Neal. "Eat."

He looked down at the plate, filled with ham and scalloped potatoes. Another plate appeared, with a slice of apple pie. He started to sit down, but then something caught his attention and he looked toward the balcony doors. "Do you hear that?"

Neal walked toward the doors and pulled them open, letting a swirl of wind and snow into the room. The city lights and the snow gave the sky a silvery look, and over the sound of the wind…

"Bells," Neal said softly. "Do you hear them?"

"Midnight," Peter said, walking to the doors.

"It's Christmas," Elizabeth whispered, walking up to stand between the two men. As one, they moved closer together.

They stood there for some time, in the wind and the snow, under the silvery sky, listening to the bells.

Merry Christmas.