She paced around the small glass cube, beyond anxious. After the call, she hadn't even bothered to try and sleep. Her fingernails were worn down to the nub, her hair was a mess, and her clothes hadn't been changed in thirty-six hours. Stevie was a wreck.
Neal, on the other hand, was just as suave as ever. He had gotten a full night's sleep, had had a nice long hot shower, and brushed his teeth. The fact that Peter hadn't called about the meeting had helped.
When he strolled into the building the next morning, he was met with mixed greetings. Some people smiled at him as usual, others cringed, and some went as far as to snicker. Neal looked himself over in the glass. His suit was in order, not a hair out of place. With nothing on him different, something around him had to be.
"Peter?"
"Yes?"
"Why is everyone acting like I have a 'kick me' sign on my back?"
Peter froze. His mind went blank. Elizabeth had had him rehearsing what to say all morning. Unfortunately, that had all gone in one ear and out the other. "Well, ya seeā¦"
Diana came to his rescue. "Sir, you and Neal are needed in interrogation room one."
"Interrogation room? What, did someone start the curator case without me? I'm impressed."
"Not exactly." Peter ushered Neal through the bullpen as fast as he could. "We need to talk."
A/N: AH! Please don't hate me! I apologize for the small nature of this chapter, but it is the best I can do right now! I didn't even realize how long it had been since I updated until I was searching for Neal fanfictions! I am sososososososo sorry! But here you go! I won't make any promises as to how long it will be until the next one! *"Please review!" She cries as she ducks through the cloud of tomatoes being hurled at her face*
