Peter found Elizabeth alone in his office, drinking something from a mug. He hovered in the doorway for a moment, deep in thought as he watched her. He felt terrible she had to be here, cooped up like this, but he also knew it was for the best. He had no doubt Dean would target Elizabeth if given the opportunity, and he'd do anything to prevent that from happening.

He suddenly appreciated Hughes' direction to have someone keep an eye on the house… Especially now, based on what had just happened with Neal – it was clear Dean was tracking them.

Speaking of Neal… Peter looked over at the empty chair beside his wife, suddenly feeling slightly uneasy.

"Where is he?" Peter asked, remaining in the doorway.

Elizabeth seemed startled by his voice. She turned in her chair with a bit of a jolt. "Peter," she said, somewhat breathlessly.

"Sorry," he quickly apologized and offered a sympathetic look. "I shouldn't sneak up on you like that, Hon."

"No, no – I'm sorry," she answered, shaking her head. "It's me." She gave him a small smile. "I guess you could say I'm a bit jumpy today."

"Well, that's somewhat understandable," he replied with a hint of satire. "I unfortunately know the feeling." He smiled back briefly and then asked, "Where's you know who?" while nodding at the empty chair.

"Neal? Well, he made me tea," she replied, raising her mug with an appreciative look. As Peter simply raised his eyebrows, appearing unamused, she continued. "After that he said he needed to make a call." She shrugged. "Honestly, Peter, I think he was having a hard time sitting still. But I'm pretty sure he just stepped into the conference room next door. Everything okay? How's Reese?"

"Reese," Peter echoed. "Well… Let's just say he isn't too happy..."

She sighed. "Do you blame him?"

"Not really," Peter admitted honestly. He leaned against the door frame. "I'd feel the same way in his position. Obviously he thinks what I just told him is information he should have had yesterday. And he's not sure why I didn't mention it yesterday..."

"Well…" She sighed. "Did you tell him about Samantha?" she asked carefully. "And did she call in yet?"

"He is aware of her, but… not to the fullest extent…" He paused. "And did she call? Not that I know of," he continued slowly. "But he did just get a call that could potentially be related." He gave a small shrug. "I don't really know." He watched her as she took another sip of tea from her mug. "El, are you sure that you're really okay just hanging out here?"

She lowered the mug from her lips, taking a moment to swallow while also giving him a sincere look. "Peter, of course," she said firmly. "And honestly, knowing what I know now, I'd rather not just sit at home." She frowned. "Look… it's a slow couple of days with my clients anyway. There's a couple calls I can take from here later. Now if this goes any longer than this week…"

"God, I hope not," Peter answered, exhaling in frustration. He reached up to rub at his eyes, shaking his head at the thought. It couldn't go on that long. Could it? "By the way…" He dropped his hand. "Hughes wants to put a detail on the house." He waited for her reaction.

"A detail. On our house?" she asked, eyes widening.

He nodded. "Look, El… I'm sorry this is happening, but –"

"No," she interrupted. She raised a hand as she cut him off. "It's not your fault, Peter," she said. "You couldn't have done anything to prevent this." She paused. "And it's… it's probably a good thing if there's an extra set of eyes on us. Right?"

"Right. Exactly." After he quickly agreed, Peter then paused. "That is… as long as Dean is none the wiser…" he added. "That was his one condition: No involvement from the Bureau."

"Well, it's too late for that, and we have no choice, Peter."

"Right." She was quiet, looking at him, almost expectedly. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling a quick surge of anxiety that he tried to quell. He wasn't sure that she was entirely right, but had no other insight to offer them a different approach for the current circumstances. He also didn't want her to worry any more than she already was.

"I don't exactly know what we do next," he admitted as he reopened his eyes. Elizabeth was still looking at him – more like studying him. But he spoke candidly. "I'm sure Dean is going to want some sort of rendezvous with Samantha, and –"

"A step at a time," she interjected. "Isn't that what you said? Don't jump ahead."

"I know," he answered. "I know." He paused. "Alright. Got to stay tactical here. Let me talk to Neal. Then I need to find Diana." He started to push away from the doorway.

"You know what – she actually stopped by earlier. Sorry, I meant to tell you once I saw you, but it slipped my mind."

Peter frowned, pausing. "Oh really?" He watched his wife nod.

"She's around," she persisted. "That's what she said to tell you. If you needed anything."

"Alright, good."

She nodded again. "Go talk to Neal."

"Right." Peter rubbed at the back of his neck as he moved away from the doorway. He realized with some frustration that he was actually anxious about speaking to Diana. He expected the same sort of reaction as Hughes – confusion and disappointment about what he had left out of their discussion yesterday. Why hadn't he told them everything?

He had his reasons. But those reasons were hard to articulate.

He readily found Neal where Elizabeth had suggested he look. In actuality, he had been only several feet away, on the other side of the wall alone in a conference room behind closed doors. He was on the far side of the room, on the opposite side of the wide meeting table that sat in the center of the floor. He was pacing in front of the room's large windows with his phone to his ear, facing the view outside.

Unnoticed, Peter watched him for a moment through the glass wall. The pacing seemed restless and uneasy. He would walk several feet to the right, then pause only briefly before making a curt turn to walk back several feet to the left.

The motion was repeated, again and again. Peter was getting more tired simply watching him.

With a sigh, Peter finally put his hand on the door handle and slowly pushed the door open. It creaked as he did so.

Neal turned at his entrance, for the first time looking inward towards the room itself rather than focusing on the outside. His pacing stopped. Then he conveniently said something inaudible into the phone and ended the call, slipping the phone into his pocket.

"Peter," he spoke. He looked at Peter expectantly but with a bit of uncertainty. He crossed his arms and then quickly uncrossed them.

"Neal…" Peter replied. "You didn't have to end the call on my account…" He closed the door behind him and took a few steps into the room.

"We just finished," Neal answered.

"Remarkable timing," Peter answered with raised eyebrows and a slight hint of skepticism. He slowly walked forward towards the table, taking one of the chairs by its backrest as he reached it. He pulled the chair out to slide it closer to him and then took a seat, feeling every muscle in his body as he did so. "Was it Mozzie?"

Neal shifted his weight and then nodded. "Yeah."

"You've got him all caught up?" Peter couldn't help that his tone was slightly sarcastic.

"You said it was okay," Neal answered, frowning.

"It's fine…" Peter answered dismissively. He didn't love the idea of Mozzie's involvement, but at least preferred it was done openly rather than behind his back.

Peter eyed a coffee mug on the table, sitting untouched several feet away on the other side of the table. Feeling Neal's eyes on him, he looked back up. "You want to sit?" he asked him. He gestured to the chair beside him.

"I can't," Neal answered.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Trust me. You can."

Neal made a face and then pivoted to look out the window again, turning his back to Peter. "Look... I'm sorry again about before, Peter," he told the skyline. "It felt urgent, but I realize I shouldn't have walked in like that." He was quiet briefly and then added, "I hope Hughes wasn't too annoyed."

Peter rubbed at his temples, leaning back into the chair tiredly. He hadn't actually intended to bring up the ill-advised entrance again. Of all the things on his list to address, Neal's office etiquette was of low priority "Look, Neal, it happened," he said curtly. "Tell me this – did you get anything else from Dean?"

"No," Neal responded. "Nothing." He took a few steps along the windowed wall, still facing the view.

Peter didn't respond at first, watching Neal's uneasy movement. "That's good," he finally spoke. "For now at least."

Neal simply grunted, like he wasn't so sure himself.

"Listen…" Peter began slowly. "Hughes wants to talk to you." He watched Neal's shoulders visibly stiffen. "And before you—"

"Before I what?" Neal objected as he turned around. His brow was furrowed. "Because I interrupted you guys?" he began defensively. "You just said—"

"No," Peter swiftly interjected. "No, Neal, it's not about that."

"Then what?" Neal persisted. He shook his head. "Look, Peter— I'd rather not, if it makes any difference."

"Neal. Can I finish?"

Neal exhaled loudly and then turned back to face the city-lined view. "Fine. Finish. What's he want to talk to me about?"

"He just wants to get a statement from you," Peter continued. With a calm sigh, he leaned further back into his chair and rested his elbows on its arm rests. He had been expecting a reaction from Neal relatively along these lines.

Neal's interaction with Hughes had been civil during their short tenure working together, but also limited. Peter had served as a buffer between them, which was somewhat intentional on his part. Hughes was skeptical enough of the younger man and their deal, and Peter felt the relationship was better suited if seen through Peter's perspective and filter. It served a dual purpose though, as he also knew Neal wasn't too comfortable with the older man. He wasn't even sure Neal had ever even sat one-on-one with the senior officer...

"A statement?" Neal echoed. "No."

"No?" Peter couldn't help but smirk briefly. "Neal… You haven't even asked what it's for."

"Does that matter?" Neal answered, casting a disgruntled look over his shoulder.

Peter simply gave him a look. "Do you think you have a choice? You know part of your deal is that you follow orders, right?"

Neal didn't respond; he merely brooded.

"Talking," Peter persisted. "That's all a statement is, Neal."

"Fine," Neal answered, though his tone was reluctant. He paced again along the window. "Tell me, Peter… What does he need my statement for?"

"Now that he knows what happened," Peter began to explain, "he'd like your statement about the events of the last couple of days. That's all, Neal."

"But he has your statement," Neal replied. "Why does he need mine?"

"Because you were there too."

"But it's the same statement."

"Neal, when you have more than one witness at an event… You get all their testimonies… This is no different."

Neal turned, leaning back against the glass behind him. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Is it because he doesn't trust yours?"

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, you've been lying to him for the last twenty-four hours," Neal continued. "And he knows that."

"Neal..." Peter began. He shook his head in frustration, gripping the arm rest. "Are we doing this again? I haven't lied."

Neal pushed away from the window, moving again along the wall. "He asked you what happened yesterday," he said. He ran his finger across the glass as he walked. "Today he got a different account…. So that sounds…" he paused. "Very truthful."

"Neal, yesterday was a bit of a tumultuous day." Peter winced as he sat up straighter in the chair, his ribs resisting the sudden movement. "Hughes knows that."

"And what if our accounts don't corroborate?" Neal turned as he reached the end of the wall and resumed walking the other direction.

"Why wouldn't they?"

Neal shrugged. "You never know. I don't know what you said or didn't say."

Peter suddenly felt irritated. By the discussion, the accusation, the anxious walking, and the unspoken. "Jesus, Neal— would you stop with the pacing?" he asked sharply. "You're giving me a headache."

Neal stopped, turning to face the other man. He opened his mouth, about to speak further, when movement at the doorway caught his eye. "Peter…" he started instead.

Peter followed his line of attention, turning his head behind him.

At that moment, Hughes entered the conference room, closing the door behind him. He glanced only momentarily towards Neal before settling his eyes on his agent. "Peter…" he began. He paused, clearing his throat. He then continued, "The phone call I received just now is a bit troublesome."

"Sir?" Peter asked. The words made him uneasy, and he began to rise from his chair. "What do you mean?"

"Strange topic. And impeccable timing too," Hughes began, tone thick with cynicism. "Considering everything that is going on."

Anxiety further piqued, Peter took a few steps towards his boss. "Why? Who was it?"

"I feel like you might already know," Hughes responded, giving him a discerning look. He folded his arms over his chest. "Peter, if we're going to succeed with this, we both know that it only works if we're all being honest with each other."

"Honest," Neal muttered sarcastically from the other side of the room. It was louder than he intended and both men turned towards him. Startled, Neal feigned a distracted look and immediately shifted away to face the window.

Peter rolled his eyes at his CI, but then turned back to his boss. "Sir, who was on the phone?" he asked, frowning.

Hughes let his own suspicious frown linger on his face as he turned his eyes away from Neal back to Peter. "Your mystery woman? Samantha…? Well, Peter, it seems she's out of hiding. She's officially contacted the Bureau. Not only that… She asked specifically to speak to me."

Peter remained silent, waiting for Hughes to continue. He knew he had to be careful here, both in his reaction and his next statements. He knew Hughes was already calculating the extent of his involvement. Coincidences were rare in their field.

Hughes continued to scrutinize Peter. "But you expected her to call, didn't you?" he persisted. The question was neither accusatory nor angry. It seemed more curious.

Peter had no answer and felt slightly relieved when Hughes continued to speak.

"You made a comment, back in my office," he persisted. "Something along the lines of 'perhaps she isn't completely untouchable'… Or something like that. What did you mean by that? What the hell is going on, Peter?"

"What did she say?" Peter asked.

"That's all you're going to do?" Hughes responded with a look of incredulity. "Ask me what she said? Peter, the woman is supposed to be completely off the grid. She's been in protective custody for years, living a brand new life. She's not supposed to be making phone calls trying to proposition us."

"Proposition us?" Peter echoed. He frowned. He had no idea what Hughes meant by that.

"Yes. Proposition. She called with some very specific requests, Peter," Hughes answered, a bit dryly. "Now, if you don't mind, let's go back to my office." He cast a look towards Neal as he moved to open the door. "I still want to speak to Caffrey later."

Neal instinctively looked up at his name.

"Neal," Hughes began, settling a critical look on the younger man. "Do you know of this Samantha woman?"

Neal held eye contact with Hughes only for a fleeting second before shifting his eyes to his handler, as though looking for guidance. Unfortunate for him, Peter was still looking at his own boss.

"Don't look at him," Hughes admonished sharply. "Answer the question."

Neal looked back at the senior officer dutifully. "I've never met her," he replied quickly.

"Jesus Christ, I'd hope not," Hughes answered disdainfully, giving him a reproachful look.

"He read her case file," Peter interjected. "That's all he knows."

Hughes shifted his look to his agent. "Fine. Let's talk, Peter."

Peter nodded. "I'll be right there."

Hughes gave him one last look before exiting the conference room.

Peter audibly sighed.

"Do I really need to talk to him?"

Peter frowned, looking up at his CI's question. "He's irritated with me, Neal. Not you."

Neal slowly began to move away from the window and towards the conference table. He stopped when he reached its edge and placed his arms over the back of one of the chairs, leaning into it. "Speaking of which… You really do sound like me..." he commented.

Peter frowned as he turned to look behind them. From his view of the hall, he could see Hughes returning to his office. Then he turned back towards Neal, digesting the comment. "Excuse me?"

Neal shrugged. "Vague statements..." he began slowly. "Answering questions with more questions... I mean… I could go on. But I'm glad I was able to teach you something, Peter."

Peter narrowed his eyes, bristling at the words. "You want to come to my side of the table, Neal? I'll teach you something."

Neal shook his head, the edge of his lips edging up into a barely noticeable smirk. He leaned further into the chair. "I don't think you have time. Doesn't your boss want to speak to you?" he responded.

Peter simply glared at him. He was about to speak further when a knock at the doorway behind him made him turn.

Diana.

She stood in the doorway where Hughes had been just moments before, a curious look on her face. "Hey, Boss," she spoke. "Everything okay? You were with Hughes a pretty long time this morning."

Peter studied her, considering his words, and decided at the moment to keep to the tactical present. "Yeah… And I'm actually just on my way back in there," Peter replied, giving her a tight smile. "We have a lot to talk about."

She frowned slightly. "What's going on, Peter?"

"Neal will fill you in," Peter answered, casting a quick look back towards the other man. "We'll chat when I'm back."

Neal looked a bit unsettled by the suggestion, and he stood up straighter. "Peter," he objected.

Peter ignored him, turning back to Diana. "He'll explain," he told her. "And you can keep an eye on him in the meantime."

Diana frowned. "Peter, I don't—"

"We'll talk when I'm back," Peter assured her as he moved towards the door. "I promise."

Diana sighed and let him walk past her without another word. She briefly watched him head towards Hughes' office and then turned her view back to the conference room. Neal simply stared back at her.

"You," she said, raising her brows. "Did you get that coffee?"

"Uh, no, actually…" he answered slowly, a perplexed look on his face. "It's... Well, it's a bit complicated."

"Of course it is." She frowned. "I knew something was going on."

"I told you there was," Neal reminded.

"And you couldn't have been less cryptic," she replied wryly. She took a step into the room, closing the door behind her. "Alright, Caffrey. Take a seat, and spill."