September

Neal woke up. He wasn't sure what had woken him at first, it was the middle of the night. Nobody else was in his bed with him. Peter was in Greece, so that part was not surprising, but Elizabeth had been there when he fell asleep.

Then he heard a wet sound from the bathroom. He rolled over, got into his chair, and went to see what was up. Elizabeth was kneeling on the floor, her arms crossed over the toilet. Neal came up behind her, rubbed her back, and then started pulling her hair out of her way.

She smiled at him, a little wobbly, "sorry for waking you."

He shook his head, loosely braiding her hair, "are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, with a sigh, and leaned back against his shins, "never going with this caterer again though. This is the second time."

Neal kissed the top of her head, and took a hair tie off the sink to finish the braid. She looked up at him, "thanks, honey."


Later that morning, Neal heard her again. This time she was still in bed, and was leaning over the edge of it, throwing up into a ziplock bag. He rubbed her back until she finished.

"I'm going to take a shower," she said, starting to get up. She looked at the bag in her hand, queasy. Neal took it from her, "I'll deal with this. You get in the shower."

She nodded. Neal put the unpleasant bag down for a moment, got in his chair, and followed her into the bathroom. He threw the bag away, and then took the bathroom trash out. When he came back, Elizabeth was in the shower, brushing her teeth.

Neal blinked at her. She was always curvy, his eyes always followed her curves, but today there was a little bit more to some of them.

"Elizabeth, I don't know if it is the caterer's fault."

Head under the water, she didn't hear him immediately, "what?"

He reached into the spray, and gently put his hand on her lower belly. She looked down at his hand, then at his face, "oh. Do…you think?"

He shrugged.

She bit her lip, "my skirts have been tight, I thought they accidentally got washed on warm."

He shrugged, "I mean, I'm not a doctor. But…"

"Well, if it keeps happening, I'll take a test when Peter comes back."

He nodded.

She pulled on his arm, "join me?"

He took his pajama pants off, and shakily stood, holding the shower bar. She steadied him, as he stepped into the shower, and pulled his free arm around her from behind, until his hand cupped the small curve.

"You okay to stand?"

"Not for too long. But yeah."

He kissed her shoulder, her neck, her jaw. She held both her hands over his, on her belly.

"How do you feel about this?" She asked him, gently.

"Nervous," he admitted with a soft laugh, "but…good. How about you? You're the one who might be pregnant."

She turned around, wrapped her arms around his waist, and stared up into his eyes, hers shining, "I hope I am."

He kissed her, long and passionately, only breaking away when he needed to sit down.

"Doesn't matter if it's me or Peter," he said, "either way it's gonna be one hot baby."

She laughed, "I agree."

He looked down at himself for a moment, frowned in concern, "actually, it would be better if it was Peter."

She shook her head, "no, Neal. That's not true."

He gazed into her eyes, they were currently very stern.

"Okay," he said, softly, not totally meaning it but saying it for Elizabeth.

"Don't you dare," she said, "don't you dare think about yourself like that. Any child of yours will be brilliant and amazing, just like you."

He looked away.

She knelt in front of him, took his hands, "Neal. Even if you passed something on, medically, it will be okay."

He shook his head a little, still not meeting her eyes.

"It's not that," he said, barely audible over the shower.

"Then what?" She asked, squeezing his hands.

He sighed, and took one hand away from hers to turn off the shower, and finally met her eyes.

"What if they're too much like me? Like I was…too much like my father."

"I don't know anything about your father, Neal. But I know everything I need to know about you."

"No, you don't."

"Then tell me."

He swallowed, and finally spoke, his voice hollow, "my dad was a dirty cop. He killed another officer. I grew up in witness protection because of him. Even Peter doesn't know."

Shock was clear on her face, but she didn't pull away from him. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezed him tight, pulled his head to rest against her shoulder.

"I know you, Neal. Who your father was doesn't change that."

"You don't even know my legal name. It's not Caffrey, its–"

She pulled back from him a little, gripped his shoulders, interrupting him, "then why don't we change it?"

He blinked at her, his turn to be surprised, "what?"

She bit her lip, "Peter and I were already talking about it, we didn't know if you'd want it…but we could all have the same last name. We've been a family for a while. It seemed right to us."

Tears stung his eyes, a lump formed in his throat. He was for once completely speechless.

"Which sounds better?" She asked him, "Burke-Caffrey, Caffrey-Burke?"

He croaked an answer, she shook her head, "I couldn't hear you sweetie, what?"

"Just…just Burke?" He asked.

"We'd be happy to change–"

He shook his head, "I'd rather…"

She kissed him, lovingly, carding her fingers through his hair, and slowly broke apart, whispering, "okay, Neal George Burke."

Neal lost it, decades of pain and abandonment breaking through a dam of self sufficiency and necessity. He sobbed into Elizabeth's shoulder, and she rubbed his back, saying soft, kind things into his ear.

He could leave it all behind. He could just be who he had become, and not carry the weight of the past. He could have the name of his real family.

Elizabeth kissed his cheek, as his sobs calmed into sniffles.

"Let's call Peter and tell him."

"It's like, four AM in Greece."

"I think he'll want the call."

She pulled him up, they dried off, and he pushed himself to the bedroom. She got out the laptop, and got the video program up. Neal laid down in the bed, she snuggled up to him, putting the laptop on his thighs lower belly.

The phone rang, rang, rang. Neal's throat tightened with anxiety.

Then the call started, showing a dark room, with Peter's unshaven face lit harshly from below by the screen.

"Neal? El?" He grunted, confused and half asleep, "is everything okay?"

"Hi, honey," said Elizabeth, "everything is fine. You remember the conversation we had about names, and family?"

"Uh," said Peter, rubbing his hand over his face, "hang on."

He left the view for a moment, and then the lights turned on in his hotel room, and he came back.

"Yeah," he said, starting to wake up, "I remember."

"Well, it came up, and Neal is on board," she said, kissing Neal's shoulder.

Peter grinned, huge, "which way?"

"Just Burke," said Neal, needing to say it himself and hear Peter be okay with it.

Peter bit his lip, overcome with emotion, and then whispered huskily, "if you're sure. I am happy to take your name."

Neal shook his head, and repeated, starting to cry again, "just Burke."

"Okay," said Peter, as Neal broke down again, "hon, are you okay? El, is he okay?"

"I will be," said Neal, his voice wobbly, "I am."