Ch. 9

A/N: Ahh! I'm sorry!! It's been such a long time, I don't know what happened… agh. Well, anyway, I'm getting back in the swing of things so… Yeah. Be warned, things aren't getting any better. *evil grin*

"Jones! Where the heck is Burke?!"
Jones glanced up, withholding a smirk at the slightly reddened face of Hughes bearing down on his desk.

"Neal was discharged today. He's taking him home."

Hughes muttered something about a babysitter before slapping a thick file down on Jones' desk.

"Got a guy. Call him, you're gonna need Caffrey for this one."

Jones turned to his boss in protest. "Hughes, Neal was shot. He can't work!"

"There's such a thing as working from home, you know."

Hughes walked away before Jones could object. The agent sighed and turned to the file, flipping through it while he dialed. After a few rings, he began to grow nervous. Peter always picked up on nearly the first. An involuntary sigh of relief blew through his lips when a harried voice picked up.

"Peter?"

"No… no, this is Elizabeth…"

Jones picked up on the tone right away: hoarse, worried, bordering on hysterical. But there was another edge to it, of hope, as if she'd just realized something.

"Elizabeth? What's wrong?"

"It—it's Neal… I don't…"

Jones frowned, a small finger of worry inching its way into his chest.

"Elizabeth." He paused. "Calm down. I need to know what's going on."

He heard her take a deep breath, and the line was silent for a moment before she came back on, sounding much more in control.

"It's Neal. He's… in trouble. But our phone's been cut, and…" there was a hiatus, and the sounds of a short commotion before Elizabeth came back on, breathless again. "And we can't get out!"

Jones pulse picked up speed. "You can't get out?"

"No… they—the blocked the doors… they're waiting outside…"

"Waiting? Who?.... Who's waiting? Elizabeth?"

There was a long beep, and the beginning of a robotic voice. Jones cursed and slapped the phone shut, practically running to Hughes' office.

* * * *

"Hello? … Jones? … Jones!" Elizabeth choked back a sob as she closed the cell phone.

Not for the first time today, she felt at a loss. Helpless. Peter was occupied with Neal, who was writhing in pain on her couch, and she couldn't update Peter or help Neal. Outside a surreal motorized sound drilled through the air. Elizabeth turned and began to pace, cell phone still clutched firmly in her right hand. A tear struggled to leak from her eye, but she blinked it back, turning determinedly towards the stairway. Peter happened to glance over and quickly questioned her motive.

"Bathroom," she shrugged, continuing up the stairs.

Peter blinked, frowned slightly, and turned back to Neal. His partner was laid out on the couch, jacket removed, hair plastered to his crinkled forehead. Neal's arms seemed to be permanently locked around his midsection. Peter sighed quietly, wracking his mind for ideas. What went wrong? Neal's were almost classic signs of poisoning, but what from, Peter had no idea. It obviously wasn't in the food, as Peter and Elizabeth had eaten that, too… much more than Neal, in fact. What had he done that they hadn't? He'd come in, sat down… went upstairs… his room.. the bathroom… back down—Peter's thoughts halted as he back tracked. The bathroom! He stood. Elizabeth!

"Neal, I'll be right back. Hold on, 'kay?"

Peter saw the slightest of nods before he shot up the stairs, pulse racing wildly.

"Elizabeth!" He yelled, knocking on the door. There was no answer. "Elizabeth!"

Still nothing. Taking a long breath through his nose, he stepped back and shifted his weight back, preparing to kick his leg out. But before he could, the door opened.

"Elizabeth?" He asked, a little calmer. From inside the room came a soft voice.

"Peter? What are you doing?" She poked her head out the door, and an overwhelming wave of relief swept over the agent at the sight of her beautiful face.

"Liz.. ah.." A tinge suddenly sprinkled his cheeks, but it quickly vanished. "I found out how they got to Neal."

Elizabeth stood quickly, a first aid box in her hands that she'd dug out of the closet. Her eyes were wide.

"What?! How??"

"The soap."

Elizabeth looked at him disbelievingly. "The…. The soap."

"Yes. That's the only way he could have done it.." Peter strode to the sink, grabbing a towel to pick the still-sudsy white bar up in. "It has to be able to be absorbed through the skin. I've never seen anything quite like it. I'd get it back to the lab, but…"

"We can't get out." Elizabeth quietly finished his sentence. "But Jones called…. He knows something's wrong! They'll be here… soon." The kit was gripped in Elizabeth's hand so hard her knuckles were a stark white.

Peter nodded, and the pair turned wordlessly back to the stairs, neither voicing the thoughts bouncing through both their minds. They didn't know the poison, didn't know if it was fatal, or how long it would take to be completely absorbed through Neal's bloodstream.

For all they knew… Neal could be dead within minutes.

* * * *

Clemence grinned at the fuzzy picture of Peter carefully cradling the bar of soap in a towel.

"Clever, Petey." He purred. "I'm afraid you're still a little off, though. Maybe I can give you a hint." The smile on his face grew as he twisted a small something in front of him.

He turned the speakers down just as a deafening scream rang throughout the Burke's house.

* * * *

A/N: I'm soo mean, I know. Hope that made up for the long long long wait? The shows started up again, so that means I'll probably be writing a lot more. :] Reviews are the head to my phones.