September

Peter leant forward, elbows on the table, eyes fixed downward as Neal carefully peeled back the seal. Neal stopped, put the tool down, and stretched his hands, opening and closing, and then pushing the fingers back against each other. He picked up the tool again and resumed.

Peter tried not to lean forward even more in anticipation, figuring that Neal was either tired, or messing with him, and neither would be hurried by more hovering. Finally Neal got the seal up, the envelope was open. Neal slid the letter out and picked up a blade and tweezers, then set them down. He stopped again to stretch his hands.

He looked up at Peter, "cold in here."

Peter nodded, it was a bit cold. Neal finished opening the seal.

That done, Neal sat back in his seat, weaving his hands together, then pulling his hands apart, and sliding them back together again several times, warming his fingers. Peter reached over, putting his somewhat larger, warm hands sandwiched over both of Neal's.

"Good job."

"Sure," said Neal, but he seemed mostly focused on where Burke held his hands, relief on his face and in his relaxing shoulders, glad for the warmth.

Jones came up to them, "okay we're ready to roll."

Neal nodded, Peter gently let go of his hands, and Neal got to his feet. Neal went over to the coat rack to retrieve his coat and hat. Jones looked at Peter, "everything okay?"

Peter shrugged, gazing at Neal, "I'm not sure. Might be nothing, but he hasn't been causing trouble lately."

Jones chuckled, seeing Peter's point, "that is concerning. Do you think he's up to something bigger?"

"I don't know. I think he might not be feeling well."