May

Diana walked into her office with Jones right behind her, as they discussed the next move on a case. Neal was on her office couch, which was hardly unusual, but today he was completely asleep, a file over his chest, one hand on the folder, the other hanging down from the couch. Diana shook head, and then looked at Jones, "I'm just going to let him sleep."

Jones nodded, "sounds good. He looks like he needs it."

Diana gently lifted Neal's hand from the file, slid it out, and put it on her desk. She took her windbreaker off the back of her office chair and put it over Neal's chest. He stirred slightly,then settled back down.

Jones and Diana looked over the file, flipping through for a suspect's name. Jones left to go find Reyes and chase down the lead. As he left, he paused, lifted the jacket slightly and put Neal's arm that had dangled from the couch underneath it, then headed out. Diana sat in her office chair, started typing part of a report. She looked over at the sofa. Neal slept like the dead. He was pale, there was purple under his eyes. His wrist had been slightly swollen when she had moved his hand.

She shook her head, and kept typing. Maybe twenty minutes later, there was a soft knock on her door. She looked up. It was Hughes. She stood, "come in."

He did, holding a stack of files, "new cases."

"Thanks," she said, as he handed them to her.

Hughes looked down at Neal, watched him slowly breathing, the very slightest of snores escaping occasionally.

"I decided to just let him rest," said Diana.

Hughes nodded, "sounds like a solid choice. He looks exhausted."

Diana nodded. Hughes briefly put the backs of his fingers against Neal's forehead, "he's warm, no wonder he's tired."

"He said he was cold this morning but it was like 70 degrees outside. I'm not surprised he has a fever."

Hughes nodded, and left. A few minutes later, he came back in, holding two bottles, one of gatorade, the other of tylenol. He put them on the seat of the wheelchair next to the sofa, nodded to Diana, and left.

Diana kept working on her report. Eventually she got up and went to get herself coffee, before she herself fell asleep. While she was standing there mixing sugar in with a stir stick, Perry came up to her, "have you seen Neal?"

She nodded, "he's in my office. He's asleep on the couch, but if there's something urgent you can wake him."

Perry shook his head, "it's not important, I just had a question about something he showed me last week."

Perry left. Diana finished making her coffee, and went back to her office. Perry was just leaving it, looking embarrassed to have been caught there. There was now a pillow under Neal's head, as he continued to sleep like a log. Diana smiled a little to herself, and sat down at her desk.

Peter came by around noon to see if Neal wanted to get lunch. When he saw Neal asleep, he dropped his volume, and asked, "do you want me to take him home?"

Diana shook her head, "I might need him later, and I don't mind."

Peter nodded, "do you want lunch?"

Half an hour later Peter came back through, dropping off her lunch, and a latte. He left a second coffee on the table near the sofa, kissed Neal's cheek, and went back to his own office to eat.

Maybe an hour later, Neal woke up. He yawned, stretched, and then looked around in confusion. He sat up, the windbreaker falling into his lap, putting his feet on the floor. He rubbed his face with both hands, "ugh, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's fine."

He nodded, but seemed distracted. He was looking at his wheelchair, at the sports drink and pill bottle.

"Hughes dropped those off," said Diana.

"Oh. That was nice of him," said Neal. He had also noticed the windbreaker, coffee, and pillow–none of which he had acquired for himself.

"How long was I asleep?" he finally asked.

"Most of the day."

Neal groaned, "I'm sorry."

Diana shook her head. She got up from her desk and sat down next to him on the couch, casually hooking an arm around his shoulders, "of the things you do that cause me trouble…well, let's just say I didn't even have to check your tracking data today."

Neal laughed, still a little sheepish but accepting that she wasn't upset with him. He held the windbreaker out to her, she pushed it back at him, "just leave it when you go home."

He put it over his lap, instead. He took the Tylenol, washed it down with the sports drink. He tried the coffee but it was long since cold, so he put it back down.

"Thanks, Diana," said Neal, quietly.

She patted his back, then got up, and took the stack of new cases Hughes had dropped off, "here. Start going through these."

He did, as she sat back down in her office chair.