I don't own White Collar or the characters...Just having some fun until January.

Chapter Ten

Elizabeth slowly descended the staircase, not knowing what to expect to find. She knew that a career in the FBI would be dangerous for her husband, but with him currently working in the White Collar unit, she had felt a false sense of security. Now, not only was that illusion getting burst, but the threat had been right here, in their home. Years ago, when Peter had taken her to the shooting range to make sure she could use a gun, she had laughed at him. She was secretly grateful that Neal had had the fortitude to go down those stairs instead of her. Even now, knowing that both men were alright, desperately wanting to wrap her arms around Peter, she wasn't sure she wanted to see the scene downstairs.

As she reached the main floor, there was a knock on the front door, making her heart race for an instant. She looked through the peep hole to find Agent Jones standing on her doorstep. She felt relieved to see him there, knowing that Peter must have called him when this had started, knowing that they could always rely on him to be there for Peter. She always felt he was safe, as long as he was with his team. She had never dreamed of him not being safe here at home with her.

"Jones." She couldn't keep her voice from trembling as she opened the door for him.

"Evening, Elizabeth…You alright?" He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder as he came into the house.

"I'm fine. I think Peter and Neal are in the dining room." She really wasn't sure what to say. I think somebody's been shot? She still didn't even know.

"Alright."

She shut the door, and without turning, took a minute to steady herself. She had wanted to make the men coffee, but something told her their kitchen had just become a crime scene. The thought made her breath hitch, and her stomach turn. She was starting to be able to hear sirens in the distance; it wouldn't be long before the house was crawling with police and federal agents. When she finally turned towards the dining room, she couldn't see anyone, but could hear their voices coming from the kitchen. As she slowly made her way closer, she could see a small circle of blood staining the area rug under the dining table. She had to close her eyes for a minute and remind herself that she had, in fact, heard Peter's voice telling her they were OK.

"Peter… …Elizabeth." She heard Neal address Peter.

"El… …don't come in here." Peter called to her, making her stop where she was.

Peter came out of the kitchen, and started walking towards her. There was blood soaking through the shoulder of his white cotton shirt. It didn't take her long to notice that he was holding his left arm stiffly across his stomach, his face tight and a little pale.

"Pe…ter…" Her voice was shaky now. She felt like all the air had been knocked out of her. "You…you said…"

"I'm fine." He crossed the few steps between them, wrapping his good arm around her, pulling her close.

Peter buried his face in her long brown hair, breathing in the smell of her. She wrapped her arms around him, her head against his good shoulder. He could feel her body shuddering as she clung to him. He had been terrified earlier when he had heard that shot go off, not for himself, but for her. She was his world, and he would never have forgiven himself if anything had happened to her. If he hadn't been able to…no he wasn't going to think about it. He heard her start to cry, the tears warm as they wet his shirt. It pulled at his heart. He had tried so hard his whole career to keep her away from this. He held her as tight as he could, kissing the top of her head, waiting for the sobs to die down.

"El…look…" He pushed her head up so he could look at her. "Why don't you go upstairs, and take a shower. You'll feel better." He wanted to get her away from all of this.

"Alright." She sniffed. "Neal's OK?"

"Yeah, Neal's fine." She nodded, and he watched as she slowly made her way out of the dining room, before turning back to the kitchen.

Diana arrived a few minutes later, alongside the ambulance, and the rest of the emergency response team, taking the liberty of letting them all into the house. Peter, Neal, and Jones were all sitting at the dining table. Peter's firearm was sitting as the center piece, along with an evidence bag containing two more guns. Jones had been brief on the phone, telling her there had been shots fired at Peter's house, but she knew instantly, looking at the three of them, this was more than that. As she walked closer, she notice Peter was holding a towel up to his own shoulder, his head shot up when he heard her walk close, the EMTs not far behind her.

"Diana…glad you're here."

"Boss… you hit?" There was concern in her voice. She pointed the EMTs in his direction.

"I'm fine really." He was starting to not feel fine.

"Hughes is on his way. He called me just before I pulled up." Peter just closed his eyes and sighed.

"Give Neal the Gallo file, and then you and Jones finish processing the scene in there." He nodded to the kitchen.

He waited until Jones and Diana had moved into the kitchen, and Neal was occupied reading the file on Ricky Gallo, before turning his attention to the paramedic. The kid was young, he couldn't have been older than 20, Peter thought. His blonde hair was still perfectly styled, and his uniform still had the creases in it. They must have just come on shift. He closed his eyes and turned his head away as the paramedic pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting his shirt off. He was pretty sure the bullet had just nicked him, but he hadn't wanted to find out. He winced as he felt the kid inspecting his arm.

"Well… it's a definitely a graze. Runs across the back of your arm, and a little of your shoulder. " The paramedic rocked back on his heels and looked up at Peter.

"I hear a but…" he looked down at the kid's name tag. "What's the but…Dougherty?"

"It's gonna need to be stitched…I can put some butterflies on it and bandage it, but you really ought to probably just come on in to the hospital and get it properly stitched." He sulked back a little when he caught Peter's menacing look.

"Just do it here. I'm not…"

"You're going. Not another word." Peter looked up to see his Hughes standing in front of him, holding up a finger to keep him quiet. "Take Elizabeth and go get that looked at properly."

"But, sir, this is my house."

"I know. That is why you shouldn't be here. I'll see to things here. You go; you can come back after that's been tended to." His eyes flicked over to where Neal was sitting, his shirt damp with blood as well. "Take him too, have him checked."

Peter slumped down in his chair; he knew it wasn't worth fighting with Hughes. He had worked with and for him long enough to know when it was best to just shut up. That didn't mean he had to like it, but deep down, he knew Hughes was right. He looked over at Neal; Neal was looking back at him. His blue eyes looked tired, and worried.

"Alright. I'll go." He took a deep breath in, exhaling in a long sigh.

While Peter and Neal had been waiting on the doctor, they decided they weren't going to take Elizabeth back to the house for a while. After Peter shoulder was stitched, and Neal had been checked, they headed out to where the two women were. They sat in the hospital waiting room for a few long minutes, no one daring to mention the night's events. It was Neal who finally broke the silence.

"We could take Elizabeth to June's."

Peter shot him a quizzical look. Was he mad? There were obviously still holes in his memory.

"Uh Neal… You're apartment's still a wreck."

"It's a big house Peter, in case you hadn't noticed." He teased, trying to lighten the mood. "You know June wouldn't mind."

"She might if we wake her up at three in the morning." Peter pointed out. Although he knew it was probably the best option they had right now.

"I can get a unit to keep an eye on them." Diana offered.

"Do you mind?" Peter asked Elizabeth. "It'll just be for a little while."

"That's fine. If you don't think June will mind, Neal…" She shot him a questioning look.

Neal stood up and pulling his phone out of his coat pocket, he headed for the door to call June. Peter held Elizabeth's hand in his, absently rubbing his thumb along the tops of her fingers. She leaned her head against his good shoulder and closed her eyes, grateful that he hadn't needed more than a few stitches. The three sat in silence once again, waiting for Neal to return.

"She said she's putting the coffee on right now." Neal said as he came back to where they were sitting, his blue eyes twinkling with delight at the thought of the Italian roast that would be waiting for them.