Agent Peter Burke rubbed his eyes tiredly, taking a sip of long-cold coffee and staring blankly at the computer screen. It was late-even for Peter-and the sun was just disappearing over the horizon, casting dark shadows across the entire city. He was slouched in his office chair, tapping drowsily at his keyboard as he tried to finish all the reports ready for tomorrow's undercover operation. Although Peter could have quite easily insisted one of the other White Collar Division members complete the necessary reports and files so that he could go home at an earlier hour and not have a ton of work on top of his already full load; he always did it anyway, mainly because he didn't trust anyone else with the safety of his team. If something went wrong, he would prefer to know it was his own fault rather than anyone else's incompetence or possibly betrayal.

The TV on his wall hummed and blared out the familiar sound of the news. It was a strangely comforting sound in the silence of the empty office despite the fact he paid little attention to it. A few minutes later he glanced up and was drawn in by the beautiful, blond haired woman on the screen in a black jacket.

"…we believe he is Caucasian male in his mid to late thirties and he is indeed a sexual sadist and all his abductions appear opportunistic. This unknown subject or unsub always takes his victims just before a large storm. The FBI cautions all white males in their late twenties or early thirties with dark brown or black hair to be careful and avoid walking the streets alone till the storm front passes-"

"Looks like I should be careful."

Peter almost leapt out of his seat in surprise as he turned to see his partner -and ex conman- Neal Caffery leant with his arms folded across his chest in the doorway of his office. Behind him the office was dark, the lights off and Peter was pleasantly surprised Neal was still here, preferring his company to an evening of loneliness.

"Why are you, of all people, worried? You wear a tracking anklet on your ankle. Half a dozen people-including me-know where you are every single moment of every day. It's our job to make sure you stay exactly where you are; voluntarily or not." Peter mused, a smile crossing his lips.

Neal scoffed and slipped his hands into his pockets before stepping into the room with a slight stylish swagger that Peter was now so accustomed too. He scanned the piles of folders and papers on the desk and his bright blue eyes widened.

"Do you need a hand?"

Peter scanned the mess of documents before leaning back in his chair and pursing his lips.

"Nah, I'm on the last one anyway. Just making sure everything's ready for tomorrow. You ready?"

Neal flashed his award winning smile and tilted slightly in a casual, confident pose "Peter, I'm always ready. I've had loads more dangerous undercover missions before."

"Missions?"

"Hey, it sounds cooler than whatever you would call it, like I'm some superspy American James Bond. I always did love those movies." Neal stated, his eyes crinkled in amusement.

Peter clicked the mouse to save his accomplished report and flicked the TV remote so it switched off with a final, endearing snap. A yawn escaped his lips as he rose and slipped his jacket off the back of his chair and pulled it up his arms.

"Whatever 007, you and I have a busy day tomorrow and I expect you here all bright eyed and bushy tailed at nine; you meet with Jackson at eleven."

Neal laughed jauntily and flipped his infamous fedora hat onto his head with its customary manor and handed Peter his leather briefcase, which he accepted with a grateful nod. They quietly walked out, chatting all the way down to the ground floor about Peter's weekend plans with Mrs Elizabeth Burke but Neal was stubbornly silent about his dinner plans with Sara Ellis in a couple of days. Peter teased and prodded but didn't push the matter any further, acknowledging the privacy of the matter as they strolled through the large glass doors and out onto the street.

The wind was bitterly cold and Neal turned up the collar of his thick coat at its harsh breath before rubbing his hands together. Even in the darkness, the thick, ebony clouds that rolled and filled the sky above were visible as they tumbled and rumbled angrily. The storm was steadily growing fiercer and more aggressive as it approached and even Peter was slightly intimidated by its power. Neal coughed lightly and patted Peter on the back in a friendly manor before climbing gracefully into Peter's car as Peter crossed to the other side and clambered in. Their conversation continued throughout the entire car journey as the two bantered humorously, even as they got trapped in unusual late night traffic and rain and hail began to pelt the car making the metal ding infuriatingly loudly. When they pulled up outside Neal's apartment the young conman sighed and put his hand on the handle in preparation before turning back to Peter.

"I'll see you tomorrow then. If only I didn't have to get wet."

"Cowboy up, Caffrey. Bye."

Neal flashed a weak, un-amused smile and leapt out of the car with an inhuman fluidity before sprinting through the harsh precipitation and slipping on the stairs as he jumped them. Neal tumbled sideways, catching his leg painfully on the corner of the top step making Peter flinch. He wound down the window as Neal stumbled the last few feet and cowered under the doorway; June kindly anticipating his arrival and opening the door, a concerned look on her face.

"You okay, Neal?" Peter shouted over the relentless banging, watching the hail spray up off the pavement.

Neal just looked at him with a grimace and rubbed his shin, waving off the matter and giving a reassuring thumbs up before disappearing through the open door and into the dry, flash apartment. June smiled warmly and signalled her greeting to Peter afore closing the door as the wind howled.

Sitting back, Peter breathed a withered sigh of relief as he relaxed back into the soft fabric and gently pressed on the accelerator and drove back out onto the street. Finally another long day was over and Peter couldn't help but crave the rush of tomorrow's operation even if most of his time was spent listening to Neal's interactions through a headset inside the van. Anything was better than typing up detailed statements and forms for Hughes to briefly glance through. Peter smiled and gladly anticipated the warmth of a hot shower and his gorgeous wife as he steered toward home.