Neal, you did a great job," Diana said warmly. "We nailed that guy who was buying up the home mortgages from the elderly, thanks to you."

Neal shrugged, and tried futilely to act modest. "It was easy. Once he had me pegged as the greedy nephew, there was no problem."

Diana grinned. "Well, you still did well. I also want to thank you for working with me this past month. I really appreciate your effort."

Smiling though a bit strained, Neal remarked, "It's just not as fun to bait you as it is Peter."

A shadow crossed Diana's face as she turned back to her computer screen. She and Neal were in Peter's office, where Diana sometimes spent her time. She steadfastly refused to spend all of her time here though.

Neal noticed her expression. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Diana resumed her work. "Haven't you got something to do?"

One of Neal Caffrey's chief strengths as a conman was the ability to pick up on emotions of others. He could see and feel what people thought they had hidden. "What have you heard? Otherwise I'm going right up those stairs and talk to Peter."

Diana sighed. "Look, everyone knows Organized Crime has had problems for a while now. Agent Ruiz is a good investigator but not a good administrator. I've only heard that Peter is shaking things up, that's all. And frankly, they need it up there."

She gave Neal a sidelong look. "How many days has it been?"

"Thirty two," Neal said promptly. "But who's counting?"

"Yeah," Diana agreed soberly, her expression wistful. "Who's counting?"

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"So," Peter Burke leaned back in his office chair, his relaxed posture belying the fact that he was very angry. "What happened this time?"

Agents Alan Barnes, Barry Watters and Luis Castillo all stood around the desk, trying to be efficient and professional. After all, they had done nothing wrong. So they thought.

"Somehow Brentamo's driver made the tail. He lost us and disappeared shortly after they left the restaurant." Barry Watters made it sound like one of those things that just happen. Barnes remained silent but defiant. Only Castillo, the youngest agent in the room, started to object and then suddenly subsided when Burke glowered.

"So, who got careless?" Peter asked tightly.

Both Barnes and Watters turned to Castillo, who looked resentful. "I guess I did. I was driving," Castillo said harshly.

Peter still sat, like a coiled snake ready to strike out. "Did you get too close?"

"Way too close," Watters scoffed.

Turning to Barnes, Peter asked simply, "And what were you doing?"

Agent Barnes blinked. "Well, I was riding along, naturally."

Peter jumped out of his chair and pointed a finger in Barnes' face. "You are the most experienced agent here in this division. And when Agent Castillo got too close you simply sat there and fiddled with the car radio?"

"Well, no." Barnes was flustered, a rare moment in time. "I mean, I told the kid to back off but he wouldn't listen."

"That's not true, dammit!" Castillo shot back heatedly.

Peter blew the air out of his cheeks in disgust. He turned on Watters.

"And you were doing what?"

Watters blanched. "Well, I was looking around; checking to make sure the Brentamos hadn't put somebody on us. It's been known to happen, you know."

Giving the man a scornful look, Peter waved his hand in dismissal. "Yeah, right; you were window shopping. We blow eighty man hours this week alone on a surveillance that gets us nothing but Joey Brentamo laughing his head off as he drives off into the night." Consumed by fury, Peter stalked around the desk, causing all the agents to back off a bit. "Raw recruits from Quantico would have done better than you three did! Barnes, I don't know how you ever got to this level, if you can't even do routine surveillance!" Peter noticed Barnes flushing an ugly level of red, but didn't care. "We're going to have to let Joey boy go for a few days, until he hopefully gets used to not seeing us in the rear view mirror. Then, we'll try it again and do it right next time. Now get out of here!"

Peter leaned against his desk as he watched Barnes and Watters file out, faces filled with hostility. As the youngest agent headed for the door however, Burke said, "Castillo?"

Luis Castillo reminded him a lot of Lauren Cruz. He had that same youthful, fiery attitude, only Castillo was far more intimidated than Lauren would ever be. The young man paused, his expression worried and wary.

"Next time you and I will do the surveillance. And there won't be any screw-ups, right?"

Castillo's face looked like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "Yes, sir, Agent Burke. You can count on that!"

Peter shook his head ruefully as Castillo bounded out the door and down the stairs. Neal would never be that excited over a stakeout. Shaking his head at the suddenly poignant memory of his whining consultant on stakeout duty, Peter sat down at his desk, eying the huge stack of paperwork that awaited him. God, he missed them all. Diana would have helped with this. Jones would have handled the stakeout with no problems. And Neal would have rocked the boat several times before saving the day with some outlandish scheme. But most of all, Peter missed hearing their voices, just talking and joking with them and then going forth to bust another lawbreaker in the course of duty in the FBI White Collar division.

Peter hated to admit it, but he really, really missed Neal. This was almost a return to his life before Neal had inserted himself into it on a daily basis. Neal with his boyish enthusiasm, Neal with his schemes, Neal with his sulks, Neal with his goofy hat and his connoisseur wines. Peter had forgotten how in control of his own life he had been back in those days before his CI had entered to liven things up.

He rubbed his gritty eyes. He had to stop this. Had to stop thinking about his team. Time to get the job done here and done right. Ruiz was a pain in the neck and somebody Peter would never consider a friend, but he was not about to turn Organized Crime back to Ruiz in a chaotic mess, although that was the way he had found it. Peter was going to let the cocky Ruiz know he needed to get his own house in order if he ever wanted to get this unit to run efficiently. Glancing over, he saw his coffee cup was empty. Peter started to get up but then realized everybody else had gone home and Ashley had probably forgotten to make another pot, as she seemed to live in fear of Barnes and Watters.

He sighed and angrily started reading and signing papers.

WC WC WC

Elizabeth Burke was alone as she was most evenings now. When a knock sounded on the door, she actually jumped. Going to the door and opening it, she was delighted to see Neal Caffrey standing there.

"Neal! This is a pleasant surprise!"

Buoyed by the welcoming smile on Elizabeth's face, Neal came on inside. "Long time, no see."

"Very long. Too long. Come on in. But I'm afraid Peter isn't home yet."

"Really? Those guys in Organized Crime must keep long hours," Neal remarked carefully. He followed the brunette woman into the dining room where she poured some wine in a long stemmed glass.

Elizabeth's face turned grim. "You've no idea." She wordlessly offered Neal the glass, which he accepted. "Have you seen Peter lately?" The question was asked quietly, but her brilliant eyes reflected her intensity. She moved into the living room and sat on the couch.

Neal sat down beside her. "Er, no. He told me to stay away."

Elizabeth smiled in understanding. "Don't take it personally. He's told me the same thing, although not in so many words."

Neal was aghast. "Peter tells you everything!"

"Not in this," Elizabeth said as she studied her untasted wine. "He doesn't talk much when he gets home."

"It's really getting to him, isn't it?" Neal fretted. "We never see him at White Collar anymore."

"I don't see him much either." Hearing a sharp bark, Elizabeth jumped up. "Oh, I've forgotten Satchmo." She went to the back door and let the dog in. Satch was clearly delighted to see Neal, who promptly fished out a dog treat from his pocket. "You're spoiling him," Elizabeth laughed as she returned to her seat on the couch.

Neal fondly rubbed the big dog's head. "I've missed him too."

They both heard a car door outside and moments later, the front door opened and an exhausted Peter Burke stumbled in. Elizabeth got up immediately but not before a shadow of anger crossed her husband's face. "Well, Neal. I didn't expect to find you here," Peter said flatly.

Neal became uneasy; something in Peter's tone rattled his usually unflappable self-confidence. "I just dropped in for a bit," he said somewhat defensively.

"Well, that's nice. We're always a gathering point for strays around here," Peter snapped.

"Honey, you know that's not fair," Elizabeth soothed. "I've held dinner for you; let me get you something to drink and you kick off your shoes and relax for a bit."

Neal watched in disbelief as Peter shrugged off his wife's hands and headed for the stairs. "I'm not hungry. I had something earlier. I'll let you and Neal talk over the good times. I'm going to bed."

Neal stood up and El watched in sadness as her husband disappeared up the stairs. "Neal, I think you'd better go."

"Yeah, me too. Thanks for the wine, Elizabeth. I'll see you some other time."

Neal nearly ran out the door and headed into the night.

That night he didn't sleep, wondering what his unlikely friend was becoming. Caffrey didn't know that no one slept at the Burke household either. El was wondering how in the world she was to cope with another fifty odd days of this. Next to her, Peter was kicking himself for being a jerk but he seemed powerless to stop any of it these days. The bitterness of the job overwhelmed him.

WC WC WC

"Sounds like the Suit is getting a taste of his own," Mozzie said while lying on Neal's couch. "Crushed under the governmental bureaucracy like the rest of us."

Neal, who was seated in a nearby chair, shook his head. "For a moment there, he was really scary, Moz. I thought he might take a swing at me."

"Well, you sitting on the couch with Mrs. Suit making yourself at home probably didn't help the situation," Mozzie replied.

Neal gave his friend an exasperated look. "When you put it that way, I feel like a wife stealer."

Mozzie gave him a look. Seeing Neal's sudden expression of anger, Mozzie quickly waved his hands in dismissal. "All right, all right. But I did do some checking, very quietly. The Brentamo family is not pleased with the FBI right now. The investigation started with Ruiz but it's only begun to make headway since the Suit took over. Guys are nervous. And did you know that Sammy Gamitz is Ruiz's CI?" Mozzie scoffed. "It's supposedly a secret. Sammy was helping the investigation but it sounds like things only started moving when the Feds took Sammy out of the loop." Mozzie paused. "I would venture a guess that means the Suit caught on to Sammy."

Neal frowned; not liking the sound of any of this. "Sammy Gamitz would sell out his grandmother for pocket change."

Mozzie nodded. "Exactly, my friend."

"Are you sure Peter knows about Sammy?" Neal asked.

As usual, Mozzie's short temper flared. "Well, I don't sit in on FBI meetings although Hughes has begged me a time or two!"

Neal gave him a look. "And your schedule was much too busy, because you're lying around here, watching my TV and drinking my wine?"

Smiling beatifically, Mozzie replied, "Of course."

WC WC WC

Diana Berrigan rubbed her tired eyes. It was late at night and she was the last one left at the White Collar division. The paperwork was endless and she knew there was no sense in going home until she finished. These past eight weeks had been dreadful.

It wasn't the work itself that bothered her. Heaven knew she'd done part of the admin side of the job for Peter Burke for quite some time, enough for them to joke about how many times she'd forged his signature. But doing both jobs, his and hers, was getting her down. She wondered vaguely if she could draft Jones into doing some of the paperwork. However, Clinton was showing such grace over her handling the team instead of him, she was loath to push it.

A noise outside in the bullpen alerted her to the fact that someone was out there. "Who's there?"

Steps came up the stairs and Peter Burke came into the light of his office. "You're working late," he said with a slight smile.

Diana jumped up and came around the desk and gave him a hug. "So you are."

Peter was a bit taken aback; normally the icy cool Diana did not indulge in physical displays of affection. "I just came in to get something out of my desk and saw your light on."

"Your light on," Diana reproved. "This is still your office."

Peter sat down in the chair opposite the desk. "Sometimes it seems like a long time ago."

Diana studied her boss, dismayed to see how weary and worn Peter looked. "How are things upstairs?"

Peter shrugged. "It's a different team. Not mine. They do things differently."

"Jones heard they blew another stake out yesterday," Diana offered.

Peter jumped up, instantly angry. "We had a chance to see where that courier was going; I'd bet a month's paycheck the guy was headed straight to Joey Brentamo. Instead I've got two hotshot agents who want to make a big score, so we end up with a know nothing courier and no leads to where the guy was going. A major foul up from the start."

Diana watched in sympathy as Peter sat back down again, the short burst of energy gone as quickly as it came, it seemed. "Still, I hear you're making progress up there. Agent Castillo thinks you're wonderful; he told everybody in the coffee shop how you chewed out Agent Watters a while back. You're now his hero."

Peter scowled. "Great. That should help morale." He glanced around the office, frowning as he spotted the desk calendar with slash marks through the days. Some days were adorned with stars and flowers, some simply crossed through. "What's this?"

Diana smiled. "Guess who?"

Peter groaned. "Neal, naturally."

"He misses you, Boss. We all do. We're counting the days here."

"I hate to admit it, but I've lost count. How many have I been away?"

"This closes Day Sixty One."

Peter slouched down in the chair. "Too long." He looked around the office and then to Diana. "How's it going here?"

"We're all right, Boss. We nailed an investment counselor selling phony bonds. Neal pretended to be a trust fund baby and Jones a swarmy lawyer."

Peter smiled. "Jones is being corrupted too?"

Diana grinned. "Yeah. He says he likes it. Shallow man." They laughed and she continued. "Anyway, we got him down on tape. I was in the van and everything went smoothly."

"You're a good team," Peter said, sounding melancholy.

"We are a good team. But we would like our boss back." Diana looked at the tired man before her. "What did you stop by for? Not that I'm not happy to see you but-"she left unfinished the thought that Peter looked like he needed to be home and resting.

"Oh yeah, I need that file we kept on Richard Deakins. I think ol Rickey boy's surfaced again. Seems to be cozy with the Russian mob."

Diana's interest perked up. "Oh really. How so?"

As Peter explained the case, he began to open up a bit more and soon Diana was commiserating on the losses and celebrating the wins. It was like old times for a short while.

WC WC WC

It was a rather boring Sunday afternoon when the phone rang at Neal Caffrey's loft apartment. The rest of the world was watching baseball but Neal didn't care to and Mozzie was off doing some sort of mysterious Mozzie thing. Neal had several books spread in front of him but none of them held his interest.

Glancing at the caller ID, Neal was both pleased and apprehensive when it came up Peter Burke. Nevertheless he answered immediately. "Hello?"

"Hi, Neal, it's Elizabeth. How about joining us for dinner tonight?"

Neal swallowed. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yes, Neal, it is." Elizabeth lowered her voice. "This is a good day; come on over while it stays a good day."

Neal brightened. "I'll be right there."

WC WC WC

Neal knocked on the door and was met by Peter, with a beer in his hand and his dog at his heels. "Come on in, Neal."

"Hey, my man." Neal was unusually tentative when he entered but Peter seemed not to notice.

"Sit down, take it easy. Want a beer?"

"Uh, no, I'm good. I didn't know what we were having so I bought both red and white," he said, while holding out two bottles of wine.

"The white will be fine," Elizabeth replied, coming out of the kitchen with a dish she sat on the table. "Dinner will be in just a few minutes. Neal, you want to open your wine?" Neal nodded yes and took the offered corkscrew. "Babe, you all right?" El threw over her shoulder, concern on her face but only briefly.

Peter had settled into the chair to watch, naturally, the Yankees game. "I'm fine," he replied rather indistinctly.

Seeing his partner absorbed in the game, Neal followed Elizabeth into the kitchen. "Peter seems pretty, well, relaxed today."

El gave a short chuckle. "He should; that's his fifth beer. But I'm not complaining; at least he's been talking to me today. That's better than it has been. Go on out and sit with him. He won't bite – at least not right now."

Neal made his way out the door and timing his passage in front of the TV, waited until a new batter was on his way up before crossing. "How's the game?" he asked weakly, cursing himself for the lame question.

Peter Burke had a disconcerting habit of seeming to be very drunk one moment and startlingly sober the next. He gave Neal a sharp glance. "Do you really care?"

Neal flushed. "No."

Peter smiled. "Yankees are ahead by three. Since you asked."

"That's good. That's really nice." Neal fidgeted but even Satchmo was occupied in the kitchen.

Peter sighed and sat down his beer. "Neal, I am sorry about the last time you were here. I was in a really bad mood and I took it out on all the wrong people."

Neal was stunned. "Peter, are you apologizing? To me?"

"Yeah, I guess I am." Peter reached down and took a fortifying swallow of his beer. "But don't get used to it," he added sternly.

Neal shook his head, but couldn't help smiling. "Oh no, I'd never get used to it. Never."

They spent the rest of the evening laughing and talking, Elizabeth regaling the men with some of her horror stories about the events she'd planned. As the evening wore on, however, both she and Neal noticed Peter gradually withdraw from the conversation and eventually shut down altogether. He wasn't listening to what they were saying and his expression grew morose.

Neal quietly excused himself after thanking Elizabeth for the dinner. As he called out good night to Peter, he saw his friend was already heading up the stairs.

Elizabeth sighed. "That's what I get every night. He's lying right beside me, but it's like he's a million miles away in some world he won't let me in."

"I don't think he's letting anyone in, Elizabeth. It's a world he's protecting us from."

The dark haired woman sighed. "I know. But who will protect him?"