A/N: Alright, here I can with situation number three :))

By the way, I still don't own a thing...

Enjoy :)

Neal and Peter started talking after that particular evening, not everyday 'how was your lunch'-talking, but honest and open talking about stuff they both felt comfortable with.

Neal noticed that the more he confined Peter in, the more he relaxed, the less the really bad panic attacks happened. Getting some of the stuff off his chest, stuff about Kate, Keller, his family, somehow it helped. Like he was working through decades of issues and throwing those little stones off a cliff, getting lighter every day.

Neal couldn't believe it, but he as getting better – slowly, yes, but surely. Even Mozzie had to admit that the Suit wasn't doing such a horrible job. Peter started picking up on little details, little ticks Neal had and was able to steer off a panic attack before the situation was even breaching 'nervous' nervous. He hadn't been with Neal again after said evening when nervous happened – and honestly, he was glad, because it had been tough for him, too – but sometimes Neal would call him, talking about some idea he had had on the case, a slight shaking still noticeable in the normally smooth voice of his CI.

Neal never explicitly said 'Hey, Peter, I'm just calling because I just freaked out and need someone to talk to and Mozz is off allegedly doing illegal stuff', but he didn't have to, Peter knew what was going on without that.

Long story short, Neal was getting better but he also hadn't been in any situation where he'd felt uncomfortable, at least that was until the final rendezvous between him and the criminal of the week had to take place in some run-down bar in a shady side street in one of the rougher patches of New York.

The location fit the character Neal was playing and his assumed business partner even more so, but that didn't really help his mood.

He was out of his suit and in ragged jeans with a dark sweater, a woolen cap covering his dark locks. Not an outfit he was too comfortable with, but Greg Carpenter didn't do suits.

Neal was glad that Peter didn't ask if he was okay with the bar the criminal had chosen, even though he had to know that a bar that was a meeting point for drunks could not be a great setting for Neal.

When the oh-so-inconspicuous surveillance van came to a stop two blocks from the bar, Neal was fighting hard to keep his cool, keep his hands steady, the poker face was not the problem.

His job, well, at least now it was his job, was to lie and he was a master at that. Neal closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath and slipped into Greg Carpenter, his self for the night.

"Alright, Neal. You get in, get him to agree to the deal, we bust in and we're done for the night. Have fun conning him," Peter gave last instructions with a smile, a silent exchange happening between Neal and him, saying that Peter would get him out, if he needed to, without asking twice, wishing him luck and telling him that he believed in Neal.

Neal nodded his thanks to Peter, got out of the van and started walking towards the bar.

Peter stayed in the van the whole time the deal took to be made, not once not concentrating on Neal's voice when he talked to the criminal, always on the lookout for some wavering, any sign that Neal needed out. He didn't care what his Agents would say if he had to bust his own operation, he would think of some kind of explanation why they had to cancel.

It seemed like he was more nervous than Neal, as he was jiggling his leg, making Jones glance over at him.

"Drank too much," he shrugged and earned a knowing nod from his Agent. "Boy, I never drink more than I need to when I know I'm gonna be sitting in this thing. It's like it's cursed – nothing ever happens the way you planned it to and suddenly you're sitting in the van all night."

"Let's hope that's not the case tonight…," Peter sighed and tuned fully to the conversation Neal had going on again.

Just some minutes later, he heard the most important words of the evening, "I think we have a deal, my friend."

"That's it, get in, everyone!" Peter instructed and got out of the van when the Agents positioned outside of the bar had gone in.

Before he was even across the street, Neal strode up to him, pulling the woolen cap off of his head and shaking out his locks. "Nice job, Neal."

"Yeah, that was easier than expected," Neal replied and put his hands on his knees when he had reached Peter, taking a deep breath.

"Everything went okay in there?" Peter knew by now how to best from the questions he was asking Neal.

"With me and that guy? Perfectly. The other three dozen guys getting drunk? I didn't like that all too much," Neal huffed and straightened up again."But, I have to say, they can hold their liquor."

"They had practice, I can imagine. I bet you still wanna get out of here, huh?" Peter wasn't even able to get the two sentences out, before Jones exited the bar, man in cuffs next to him.

"That was a sweet job in there, Neal," he grinned and looked at the still confused looking man next to him. "Played by the FBI, isn't that a bummer?"

"Thanks, Jones. I'll take him to HQ, get his statement –" Peter started but was once again cut short.

"Nah, you get home to El, I'll do that. After all I'm your second in command and need to work up a bit, right?" Jones smirked and put the criminal in one of the cars.

"Well, if you put it that way. I guess I have to thank you from El for having me home early and from me for not having to do the paper work," Peter replied and nodded to his Agent. "Thanks, Jones. See you tomorrow. C'mon Neal, I drive you home to your beloved suit."

Neal got into the Taurus and ran a hand through his hair again. "Man, am I glad when I get out of these clothes. I wouldn't even paint in that."

"You paint half naked, Neal. That's not really an argument."

"Touché. But you know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean. You're one classy man."

"I'm not classy, Peter. It's called style. Something you lost somewhere in the late nineties," Neal bickered back and smiled when he heard the Agent snort.

The car was silent for some blocks before Peter spoke up again, "You know, I'm proud of you, Neal. You didn't like the situation, but you pulled through and came out stronger than before. Not everyone could say the same about them."

"Thanks, Peter."

"I mean it, Neal. You can be proud of yourself," Peter said again and looked at his CI, ignoring the almost empty street for the moment.

"Eyes on the road, Peter! The Taurus can't do everything for you, you know. God, one day you'll give me a heart attack," Neal grumbled and then looked at the Agent again. "But thanks, really. It's nice hearing something like that."

"And I mean it."

"Yes, I got it. Would you now please keep your eyes on the road, Peter?"

A/N: Hope, this wasn't too cheesy :)