Finished this chapter a little earlier than anticipated and decided to post it since posting chapter 13 on the 13th seemed fitting. Thanks again for the very helpful support. I can't thank you enough!

'

"Hon, you're distracted. What's wrong?"

Peter blinked and then looked up as the calm voice interrupted his reverie. Across the dining room table sat his wife, blue eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. He looked down and across the home-cooked meal in front of them on the table and then shook his head gently. "Yeah… I'm sorry, El. I zoned out. Just a long day."

"That explains why you've picked up and put down the same piece of chicken for the last two minutes?" she teased gently, smiling softly. "I won't take it personally." She put down her own fork and clasped her hands in front of her on the table. "What is it? Something happen at work?"

Peter sighed and reached for the bottle of beer in front of him. He took a quick swig, now feeling guilty that his dinner was mostly untouched and criticized himself for letting his mind get too heavy while away from the office. He tried to distance work and home. It was important to him, his marriage. He was frustrated he wasn't able to do that tonight. "Yeah. It's work…." He paused. "It's more than work. It's Neal," he admitted. Damn, Neal.

She smiled wryly, as though she suspected that to be the case. "Is it his undercover role you're worried about?"

"Yes and no," Peter acknowledged. Truthfully, he was worried about the undercover role. He always worried when Neal's anklet was about to come off. But this time… "It's more…" he allowed slowly as he shook his head, struggling to express his thoughts adequately. He also didn't want to allow the topic of Neal to monopolize their dinner, though he knew with absolute certainty El didn't mind. When it came to Neal, she was equally invested. The Neal topic had taken over many nights' conversations.

"It's more what?" she pushed gently.

Peter sighed and put his own fork down. "He… He did something so stupid today, El… And I wonder sometimes. I really wonder."

"Wonder what?" She frowned and then reached to pick up her glass of wine. "What did he do?"

He slowly explained the phone call he had gotten from the warehouse. Her expression changed into one of pure bafflement, mirroring how he had felt when he first received the update from the warehouse, and still continued to feel. "And when I confronted him on it… I don't know what to make of his answer. He was honest about doing it, and…" Peter took a breath and then another swig of beer. "And yeah… I really don't know what to make of it."

"Did he say why he would do that?" she asked.

"He wanted to see if anyone would notice…" Peter responded, tone cynical. "He was testing the cameras. And honestly, as stupid and harebrained as that excuse is, I kind of believe it." He shook his head again. "It felt like he meant it. And I don't know if he's testing me, or the system, or what is going on in his head. But it's like… I can't trust him, El. I want to, but… He's too goddamn impulsive. I give him an inch and he takes a goddamn mile almost every time."

"Is it illegal?" El asked, brow furrowed. "What he did?"

"Kind of," Peter admitted. He rubbed at his temple, at the impending headache, blankly. He caught his wife's expression and recounted his comments. "They're not going to pursue anything, El. I spoke to them." And lied, he thought disdainfully. He saw El's frown lessen at the confirmation that Neal wasn't in real trouble, legal anyway. "But it's like, one moment I think he and I are good, completely on the same page, like he's finally learning, and then, wham! Out of no where he does something stupid like this."

"You need to talk to him about it."

"I did. Kind of." Peter frowned. "He actually laughed when I first brought it up." He met El's eye, tilting his head slightly as he thought back on the moment. "He laughed. It's almost like he thought maybe I'd be impressed? At him doing something so cockeyed? Or he thought it was a joke? I mean, it definitely seemed like he didn't expect I'd be angry. Or that it was serious. He tried to turn it back on the quality of the security at the warehouse. Like he thought he was doing us a favor."

"Is he just checking how closely he's being watched?"

"I don't know," Peter admitted honestly. "I really don't. I'm not sure what he was thinking. Or why he can't think a few steps ahead. Does he really not think something like that would be noticed? At a federal building?"

"Then why don't you just ask him? He's about to go undercover. Why would he do something like that and risk getting himself caught or suspected of something more?"

"I asked him why he did it," Peter responded with a discouraged shrug, "and that's the answer I got… If they called Hughes and not me, do you know how that would've gone down?" He took a deep breath. "I mean, I don't even know what Hughes would say to something like this. He'd be furious. It's embarrassing for the Agency. I've warned Neal his deal could be over if he pulls this kind of crap. I've told him over and over." He picked up his fork again and jabbed it into a piece of chicken on his plate. "Then he asks me why I don't treat him like Diana and Jones." He shook his head incredulously. "I can't even believe he asked me that."

"Honey, he just wants an equal playing field…" El said softly.

"Equal? He'll get one if he ever stops behaving like an impulsive idiot. What he puts me through on a daily basis, I would never see from Diana or Jones in a million years. I actually thought it was a great idea to leave him at the warehouse on his own again today – to treat him like a real agent. And how wrong I was."

"Well, I agree what he did today… is a bit…" She hesitated. "It's just a bit crazy, honestly. I'm surprised he would do it."

"I'm not," Peter responded. "That's the worst thing. I just wish I'd predicted it. I pointed the cameras out to him our first time there." He paused. "I wonder if Mozzie put him up to it," he considered slowly. "But I asked why and he insisted he wasn't explicitly planning to do something else. And I think that's the truth. He usually doesn't lie to my face." He paused. "Well, not without some half-truth word manipulations that allow him to debate it with me if I do find out." He shook his head. "Sorry, Hon. I don't want this to be the topic of the evening…"

"You know I don't mind…"

"I do. He ruined my day; he doesn't need to ruin my evening. Our evening." He paused, thinking. "I spoke to him about it. And I think he understood. But now I'm wondering if I should actually punish him for it."

El shook her head gently. "The moment's over. You said you spoke to him. No one is pressing charges. So just go from there."

"Going from there is literally removing his anklet and letting him out on this case, El," Peter answered unhappily. "Between this and what he pulled at our stakeout the other day, I feel like I'm not giving him enough boundaries."

"You are. He's just testing them."

"Testing," Peter echoed with disdain for the repeat of the word. "And that's just…. Our natural course?" he persisted. "Because going into an undercover case like this, I usually have more support than that. I'm usually a little bit more confident that if I give an order, someone's going to obey it."

"You didn't order him not to obstruct the cameras," El teased. "He didn't disobey a direct order."

He gave her a mischievous smile in return. "You are sounding just like him, Hon. Caffrey defense 101. Leveraging every 'gray' area you can imagine, and manipulating black and white so they look like gray." He smirked, tone critical yet fond. "Though my number one rule, besides don't be stupid, is don't break the law. And he did."

"I'm not defending him. He was wrong. While it could have been much more serious, no damages were caused by his actions today," El reminded. "However unconventional he behaved. But you addressed it, so move on, and let him continue the case you were originally so excited about."

"Right," Peter agreed. "No damages." Other than garnering the skepticism of the staff at the warehouse and technically breaking the law. And again contributing to Peter's sure-to-develop ulcer.

"And like you said, you talked to him about it. He knows you were disappointed."

"I did. But maybe I should have yelled more. I don't like to yell at him at the office."

She gave a small smile. "I doubt he'll do it again."

"I actually bet he would given the chance." Peter shook his head with a sigh. "That's the problem. I might actually need to make a specific rule for this one. And then even more, what I can't help wonder is what the hell else might he be testing?"

El sighed as well and then tried to steer the conversation to another angle. "Tell me more about the case, Hon. Any updates? What's he going to be doing?" She picked up her wine again.

"Bartending."

She nearly spit out her wine when she heard that response. "Pardon?" She frowned.

"I'll explain. Believe it or not, it makes sense." Peter smiled at his wife's expression as he lifted his fork again and picked up a string bean from his plate, looking up at his wife as he chewed. "Ah, in addition to his new career move, he's going to be doing something else you'll love, El. He got himself a bike." He paused and clarified, "A motorcycle."

El's demeanor changed from confused to surprised, lips parting briefly to respond but no words initially came out. Then she shook her head, frowning. "Why? What's that got to do with the case? You allowed that, Honey?"

"It has to do with his old alias," Peter answered, shrugging. "There's enough I don't allow him to do, El. This is kind of crap is up to him. I can't make a rule on transportation preferences that are legal options."

"Yes, you can," she answered, shaking her head in disappointment. "You absolutely can, Peter. In fact, I've heard you tell him you can make any rule you want." She paused. "Besides, I thought one of your rules was about him not endangering himself."

"He knows how to ride. Let him get it out of his system." Peter stabbed another piece of chicken and raised his fork to his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully. "If he gets enough of a rush from a bike and doesn't feel a need to compromise anymore surveillance systems, I'll take it. You always tell me I should redirect his energy, remember? Voila. Energy redirected."

"Will he at least wear a helmet?"

Peter chuckled as he fully turned his attention back to the food on his plate. "Hon, now you're talking crazy. I need to pick my battles with him. Not going there."

"You still have your anklet?

"Yes. I'm not undercover yet," Neal mused in response to Mozzie's question that evening. Sitting at his kitchen table, he once again studied the pictures and cut-outs of text outlining the case. Tomorrow was going to be a critical day.

"Then when?"

Neal stared back at Mozzie at the persistence on the anklet and frowned. Was the man really surprised at the fact Neal was still tethered to the FBI? "Tomorrow."

"One day yet you're still wearing that?" Mozzie shook his head. "Geez. The Suit's need to know your whereabouts at all times is a little tiresome, Neal."

Neal shrugged. "They obviously don't trust me." He paused. "Plus once it's off they're equipping me with a watch that nearly does the same thing."

Mozzie frowned. "Really?"

"Really." Neal tried to distract himself with the photos on the table. He wondered if Jason would readily remember him. While trying to focus on that, he was still stirring from the last conversation with Peter about the warehouse. He wished he could explain that to Mozzie. Despite the fact that the rest of the undercover discussion subsequent to that had going surprisingly well, and Peter had essentially given him the green light to play the case his way, the previous conversation, or rather, lecture, still really bothered him. Especially the moment Peter questioned taking him off the case.

"I got your bike."

Now Neal smiled, redirecting his focus back to the present. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Mozzie affirmed with a nod. "Had a couple favors I pulled. So which painting do you want to trade for it?"

Neal gave Mozzie a perturbed look in response. "Moz, I can't." He shook his head. "I can't even joke about it."

"Oh come on…" Mozzie smirked. "Speaking of which…. Where's this infamous laptop? You said the Suit gave you clearance to take it home. I want to see the goods."

"I need to be careful," Neal said simply.

"Careful?" Mozzie echoed. "And if you're not? Besides, I don't know what that has to do with the laptop. That you're authorized to bring home."

"It does," Neal responded. "Because once you see what's on the laptop, you're going to want to see it in person. And to see it in person—"

"I thought you were going to test the cameras."

"I did." Neal felt sick. He shook his head, flashing back momentarily to Peter's look of disappointment. He hated that look. He was pretty sure this latest infraction was going to make its way to Peter's mysterious list. Bold and underlined. Not to be left alone in the warehouse. "I did, and it's not going to work. Okay?"

Mozzie picked up on his friend's tone. He tilted his head as he asked. "Wait, so soon you're already saying that? What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it. But I can't do it, Moz."

Mozzie frowned. "What happened, Neal?"

"I need Peter to trust me," Neal said stiffly. "And he won't if… if we're scheming something on the side. He's going to find out."

"What did he do?"

Neal shot his friend a disbelieving look. "Peter?" he said. "He didn't do anything. I did. He knows I tested the cameras. And somehow after that, he still didn't tear me a new one, and I'm still on the case."

Mozzie continued to study his friend, looking a little skeptical himself. "You already checked them? How did you test them?"

"I covered them."

"All of them?"

"In the two main rooms," Neal confirmed, nodding.

"All of them at the same time?" Mozzie persisted. "No wonder they noticed." He paused, eyeing Neal with disbelief. "That was… impulsive. You do realize you have no impulse control, don't you? Why not just do one and then gradually try to –"

"I know," Neal cut him off. "I know. I was stupid. I really thought they wouldn't notice. Though it did seem… too easy."

"Well, too easy usually is too easy, Neal," Mozzie returned. "You know that. You're not a rookie. What'd the Suit say?"

"He wasn't happy. Look, I don't want to talk about it." Talking about it was recreating the feelings of conflict that Neal felt. "Where's the bike?" he asked. "Is it in my radius?"

Mozzie paused, hesitating slightly. "You want to see it now?"

Neal nodded, smiling. "Is that possible?"

"For you? Of course," Moz confirmed with a smile. "Let me make a quick call, and we can go."

"They do look really old, right? Do you agree?"

Peter frowned at the comment the next day, glancing over to notice Neal's expectant expression, as they stood in the warehouse that morning, side by side. After registering the comment, he then viewed the cameras in the room, which had, since their recent sabotage the previous day, been uncovered. He then sent a skeptical look back to his CI. He was surprised Neal was even bringing up this topic again with him, though quickly realized Neal was actually only raising it to defend his actions by reemphasizing the need for testing them. He refuted that immediately. "No, Neal. In fact, they look pretty standard issue."

"Really dusty though."

"I guess." Peter scrutinized the cameras once more and then looked at the distance between the floor and ceiling. "Hey… How'd you even get up there?"

Neal froze briefly and then shook his head dismissively. "You know, you were right. We shouldn't talk about this anymore. Never again."

Peter narrowed his eyes slightly at him, glancing up again at the impossibly high cameras in each corner of the room. "Never again is right." He turned his head back to Neal. "Because you'll never do it again," he said in a flat tone. "Because it's going on the list."

"The list?" Neal looked at him with sudden concern in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Our rules," Peter responded patiently. "We now have a new one. Though it baffles my mind that I even need to put it on there."

"Oh," Neal answered. He nodded and then shrugged. "Sure. That's fine. I won't do this again, Peter."

Peter eyed him suspiciously. "So quick to agree? Don't be so dismissive of what the rule means, Neal," he continued. "You know damn well I don't only mean that you shouldn't cover up the cameras at this 'specific' warehouse again." As Neal caught his eye in surprise, Peter raised his eyebrows in return and smirked. "Oh, yeah. I know how your mind works. I mean all cameras, everywhere, anywhere. Just don't do it."

"But –"

"Uh-uhn." Peter shook his head. "Don't start."

"Fine..." Neal looked displeased but Peter also caught a somewhat roguish angle in the way he responded and the glint in his eye.

"And not just while you're specifically working with me either," Peter continued to clarify. "This isn't just your average on-the-clock rules. Consider yourself always on-the-clock with this one. Twenty-four seven."

"You act like I have plans to –"

"Not saying that." Peter shook his head. "Not saying that at all. I told you that I trust you, Neal. I'm just defining the rule."

"Fine. Unless it's for a case, or I really need to," Neal said with a challenge in his eye.

"In which case we'll have talked about it, right?" Peter returned without a pause, raising his eyebrows again. "And you'll have received an exception to said rule."

Neal looked skeptical.

"Verbally agree, Neal," Peter requested.

Neal frowned and then diverted his eyes to the rest of the room, moving to walk over to one of the groupings of art he had organized the day before. He crouched down in front of it with his back to Peter, reaching to turn one of the pieces that was slightly crooked against the wall. "I need to think about it."

Peter rolled his eyes, shaking his head. His CI never ceased to amaze him. Amaze and frustrate. "What's there to think about?"

"If I'm in a life or death situation, Peter, I don't want this hanging over me." Neal moved another piece of art, distracting himself, suddenly very curious in the frame.

"Somehow I doubt –"

"I said I'd think about it," Neal answered impatiently.

"Do you always think of loopholes, Neal? Is that the first thing you do when there's a new rule?"

Neal shot a fleeting look behind him at his handler, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "Isn't that the way it works?"

"No. Actually no, Neal. Not at all." Peter was almost surprised at the question and how Neal's mind worked.

Neal studied another frame in front of him. "Well, either way." He shrugged. "You have your two hundred other rules, Peter. Pencil this in as pending."

"Pending," Peter echoed in a mutter. Pick your battles, he reminded himself, wanting to argue Neal's count of two hundred rules and stopping himself. "Ironic of me to say, but with all your loophole analysis I bet you'd make a good lawyer if you put your head into it, Neal."

"Moz says I'd be ineligible for the bar."

Peter frowned, caught off-guard that Neal might have ever talked about the topic of alternative and legitimate career choices with his odd friend. Though curious to know more details, and if Neal actually did have any passion for that sort of path, he decided to move on from the subject, given he had to make it back to the office sooner rather than later. So he shifted themes. "Alright, so show me what you started doing yesterday and what you've found out so far."

Neal smiled now and rose from his squatted position to full height, turning around to face Peter confidently. "Okay. I mostly got through the Baroques yesterday. It took a while honestly just to get everything sorted. I told you size was a stupid filing system. Let me show you what I think so far…."

Peter stood back then, letting Neal start to digress from the topic of rules into the artwork itself, moving into a soliloquy that was even-paced yet somehow a ramble, like there was so much he wanted to say but didn't know how long he would hold the audience. He showed Peter a few pieces specifically and started to point out certain details, particularly on one piece where he recognized some deeply hidden but signature tells of a forgery.

Peter let him go on for about eight minutes, appreciating the transformation of Neal from cagey a short while ago to poised and forthcoming, deeply passionate about what he had been asked to do. This was the Neal that Peter enjoyed watching. This was Neal applying his talents in a useful manner. Applying himself. Peter couldn't help but give a small smile.

Neal had just paused to catch his breath in his discussion of two nearly identical pieces and their key differences when Peter interjected, glancing at his watch.

"This is good, Neal," he said. "This is really good work." As he watched Neal smile at him at the praise, he continued. "See, it's a good thing we have you on this case, right?" He paused. "This is why we need you. Are you inputting all this into the computer?"

"I will," Neal said affirmatively. He was still beaming at the recognition of his efforts.

"Good," Peter praised again. "I can tell you were really productive yesterday. Hughes will be happy. Enough of these types of details and maybe we can pinpoint some of these forgers. I know it's a lot to go through."

"This is what I was doing," Neal explained. "When…" He glanced at the cameras. "You know."

"Yeah, I know," Peter said with a tight smile. "I get it." He cleared his throat. I don't get it, but I do, he thought wryly. "Keep doing what you're doing until the afternoon. Come by the office by five and we'll get your anklet off. Hughes approved your plan. You still ready to go over to the bar tonight?"

Neal smiled at the mention of the anklet coming off. "Yeah, I'm ready. Do you want to take it off now?"

"No." As Neal's smile faltered slightly, Peter's phone started to ring and he dug it out of his pocket, answering swiftly. "Burke."

"Boss," Diana's voice came over the line. "Wanted to update you. Just got a call from our guys. The ones that've been watching Messier. Apparently he's on his way out of the city."

"To where?" Peter asked.

"Don't know yet. Just that he's in a car and they just hit the GW a few minutes ago."

"Okay thanks," Peter responded. "Good thing we're moving in tonight. Appreciate the update."

"No problem."

Peter ended the call and turned his attention back to Neal, who was looking at him quizzically but patiently. "Messier," Peter explained. "He's on his way out of the city."

Neal nodded slowly. "Does that change anything?"

"Nope. Just makes your role more important than ever." Peter glanced at his watch again. "I gotta go, Neal. Come over by five. And…" He glanced around the warehouse, not seeing any examples, but feeling the need to say it anyway. "And no more experimental shenanigans in here, alright? You think of something tempting, give me a call."

Neal nodded again. "Rule two hundred and two. No shenanigans," he said slyly.

"Does that mean you've accepted rule two hundred and one?"

Neal's nodding immediately turned into a negative headshake. "Still pending."

"Still pending," Peter echoed. He smirked at Neal slightly. "Fine. I'll see you by five."

"By five," Neal agreed.