A Day to Remember

Cheride

"So, where do you want to go today?" Peter asked as they waited for the elevator.

Neal twisted around to see if Diana or some other agent had somehow joined them without his notice, but it was still just the two of them. He looked back at his handler uncertainly.

"Me?"

"Do you see anyone else here?" Peter huffed. Then he took a breath, stepping inside and jabbing at the garage button. "Yes, you," he added more patiently.

"You can't blame me for being surprised; you never let me pick."

"That's because the one time I did, I got sick from the Thai you suggested."

"I did suggest Thai that day," Neal conceded. "I did not suggest getting it at that diner out in BFE. In fact, I'm pretty sure I told you not to order it."

"You'd already put the thought in my head."

Neal shot him an evil grin. "Then I'm guessing you don't want Thai today?"

"I'm letting you pick," Peter answered bravely. Then he quickly amended, "But, yeah, I'd really prefer something other than Thai. You know I haven't worked up the courage to try it again yet."

Neal chuckled as he followed Peter out of the elevator and across the garage. "I wouldn't be that cruel. So, what other restrictions?"

"That's it. Whatever you want. Wherever."

Neal's grin didn't fade. "I don't think you really want to give me carte blanche, Peter, unless you've gotten some kind of raise I don't know about."

"First of all, how would you know whether I got a raise or not? And second, I said what I said. Whatever you want."

Neal froze, staring at Peter across the car. "Are you all right?"

"Don't make it a thing; just get in the car and tell me where to drive."

Shaking his head, Neal climbed into the passenger seat. "Okay then. How about Maialino?"

"Italian? Sure, sounds great. Where is it?"

"Gramercy Park Hotel."

Peter nodded and put the car in reverse.

"Wait. You're not even going to ask about the cost? In Gramercy? Or the time it might take?"

"Our afternoon's clear, and I said you could pick. It's not like this'll be a regular thing, so I'm not worried."

Neal just shrugged and settled back into the seat, a small smile tugging at his lips.

They were getting a late start to lunch, but that worked in their favor. The drive was short and uneventful, and they even got a table right away.

"I have to admit," Peter told him, "I did expect a wait. Sometimes I enjoy getting the benefit of the Caffrey charmed life."

Neal snorted. "The ex-con on a tracking anklet might want to have a discussion about the meaning of 'charmed life.'"

Peter just grinned as he looked over the menu. "What's good here?"

"They just opened last year, Peter, and this is outside my radius."

Peter's only response was a steady gaze punctuated with an arched eyebrow.

Finally, Neal quirked a slightly sheepish grin. "Okay, I might have stayed here the night I was laying low during the pink diamond case. And from my limited experience, everything is good."

"Your idea of laying low is renting a room in an upscale, world-famous landmark hotel and enjoying a fancy meal in their lobby?"

"Now you know all my secrets."

Peter snorted. "If only," he muttered.

The grin spread. "We should order from the prix fixe menu. It's reasonably priced and that way we'll get to try two different appetizers and desserts."

Peter rolled his eyes and didn't point out that few people on government salaries would consider dropping over a hundred bucks at lunch reasonably priced. What he said was, "That sounds like a plan."

Neal just shook his head, then when he ordered, pushed his luck and added a bottle of wine.

"You'll like it," he assured Peter when the server walked away. "And you said our afternoon was free, so we might as well enjoy it."

And enjoy it they did. The food was delicious, the conversation easy—running the gamut from the latest case details to shared reminiscences of the years Peter spent chasing Neal, with forays into various legal theories and the relative merits of abstract expressionism vs. art nouveau—and Peter actually did like the wine.

Almost three hours had passed by the time Neal savored his last bite of tiramisu and pushed the dish away.

"This was great, Peter, thank you." He leaned back and cast an appraising look at his partner.

"Is this where you tell me you're transferring me to Ruiz or something? Maybe sending me back to prison?"

"What?"

Looking around quickly to see if his outburst had drawn any attention, Peter lowered his voice and tried again. "What the hell are you talking about? Is that what you think—"

"Peter, Peter." Neal held up his hands in appeasement and flashed an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I was kidding."

"Oh." Peter huffed out a sigh as he settled back. He shook his head. "I just thought—" He sighed again, then looked directly at Neal.

"I know things have been a little . . . tense lately. With us, I mean."

"Peter, you don't have to—"

"Shush. I don't say these kinds of things often, so let me say it.

"Anyway, like I said, I know it's been tense. And, honestly, I don't know what's going to happen." A shadow of guilt flashed across his face before he continued.

"But, Neal, whatever happens, I want you to know, this past year, since you've been working with me . . ."

Peter dragged a hand across his face. "Dammit." He chuckled just a little. "There's a reason I don't say these things often, you know."

"I know." Neal smiled at him fondly. "And, Peter, really, I know."

Peter returned a rueful smile. "See? That's one of the reasons it's been a good year; you never make me do the mushy stuff."

"I am completely on board with the Peter Burke 'cowboy up' approach to life."

"Okay, good. Then I can just say, even with everything, it's been a good year, and leave it at that, right?"

"After this lunch? Yeah, you can leave it at that." Neal laughed lightly. "But before we move on to the shoulder slugging part of the program, I have a little something for you."

Peter's eyes widened. "For me? I didn't think you had even thought about the date."

"I'm the one who got out of prison, Peter. It was kind of a red-letter day." The twinkle in his eyes took any sting out of his bland reply.

"I'm afraid it doesn't compare to a Maialino lunch," Neal told him as he reached into his jacket pocket, "but it's from the heart."

With his typical mega-watt Caffrey grin, Neal presented his gift with a flourish, and Peter burst out laughing as he reached across the table.

He couldn't stop staring at the small "bouquet" of twelve lime green suckers, held together with a tiny replica anklet.

Neal laughed with him. "Happy anniversary, Peter."

"Happy anniversary, partner."

~END~


Not sure if it's okay to say this here, but I realized that today is my anniversary of belonging to another fanfic "archive," so I thought I should let the boys celebrate their own special day, too.

Thanks so much for reading!