Posting early to avoid having to post on Thanksgiving. Thank you to all who are reading the story and sharing your thoughts on the content. For some reason, this was a hard chapter to write. Also, many thanks for those who take the time to post reviews. That means a lot to me.

Chapter Six

There was no use in keeping the truth about Neal's return from Elizabeth any longer. Peter hadn't lied to her; he had deflected, avoided and not told the whole truth. He found himself doing the wrong thing-keeping secrets from Elizabeth-for the right reason; to protect her.

The problem was that wasn't even the truth. He told himself it was to keep her from worrying, but it was more to protect himself from her anger. What he had done, the way he justified it to himself, sounded so much like Neal Caffrey that it scared him. Over the years, he had hoped to influence Neal's behavior, and maybe he had, but it apparently had gone both ways.

Elizabeth listened as he told the story and confessed his reasons for keeping quiet as long as he had. She took it far better than he had expected, but, of course, he had prefaced the entire topic with the statement that he would not be involved in anything overtly dangerous. He explained everything he knew so far as well as the details of the meeting Nathan Clay had demanded with the Attorney General Office's representative.

"I'm sorry," He said after his confession, "I just didn't want you to worry."

"Peter," she said, "I was already worried; I knew something was up. You've been distracted and had that look on your face," she shook her head, "It's not a look I've seen in a long time, but I know it well. It's your I'm worried about Neal look. You might not be in danger, but how about him?"

"He keeps telling me that it's simple," Peter said, "And compared to some things we've done in the past, I'm inclined to agree with him." He met her eyes. "I don't want you to worry about this."

"But you are worried about this," she observed. "Remember, you have that look."

"I have that look because I won't be there to back him up if he gets into trouble." He couldn't keep the frustration from his voice. The fact that Neal had taken such measures to have him excluded still rankled. "He had no right to interfere in my job like this."

"He has backup, Peter," she reminded him "and the Bureau is limiting your involvement on this case anyway. So his interference was redundant" She paused before adding, "and his motives were good."

Elizabeth, like Singleton at the meeting, was correct about his limited involvement. But when he had managed to get the bureau to let him offer support to Agent Singleton on the Cordero investigation, he figured he would eventually be able to convince them to loosen his constraints. Then, when Neal presented his offer, Peter knew he could use their history to justify a closer, more hands-on, involvement in the case. After all, who knew better how to work with Neal Caffrey than Peter Burke?

But as well as he knew Neal Caffrey, sometimes he forgot that Neal Caffrey knew him, too. Neal had anticipated his plan. Instead of Nathan Clay insisting that Peter be his back up, a term that would undoubtedly have been granted FBI policy notwithstanding, he had headed Peter's entire move off at the pass.

"I know his motives were good," he admitted grudgingly, "they usually are. But this could get dangerous, and if he's out there, I should be out there, too."

"He doesn't want you out there," her eyes grew stormy, "and neither do I. Your family needs you, Peter, and Neal went all the way to South America to bring you back to us. He wouldn't come here to put you in danger again."

"Elizabeth," Peter began, "My job puts me in danger; when I was taken from that parking garage, Neal Caffrey wasn't even on the continent. We've been over this."

They had been over it many times since the kidnapping. If Elizabeth had her way, Peter would have left the bureau altogether after the incident. But once her emotions calmed some, she had remembered that at his core, Peter was an FBI agent. His job was much more than an occupation; in many ways, his career defined him. She couldn't ask him to give that up, and she hadn't.

Elizabeth didn't reply immediately. "In Paris," she finally said, "When I told him you were in danger, he said At least this time it isn't my fault." She reached over and squeezed his hand. "In the past when his actions put others in danger we were pretty hard on him, Peter. He knows your job is dangerous; he just doesn't want to the reason you are in danger. There is a difference."

Peter let out a sigh of resignation; he knew there was a difference. For years, his job had required him to put Neal in danger. At first it hadn't bothered him that much; the FBI used Criminal Informants all the time and Neal Caffrey had a sweet deal. But as time passed, and the lines between CI and friend began to blur, it did bother him. In the end, he had felt he was as responsible for Neal's death as Matthew Keller. He clearly remembered how he had felt as he rounded the corner and saw Neal being loaded into the back of the ambulance; the realization that he had failed his friend. And then, once he was close enough to see the pale face and weak blue eyes, the helplessness that had washed over him. He never wanted to experience those feelings again.

That was why he was so out of sorts about not being allowed in the field with Neal. Neal was in danger, to whatever degree that elevated to, again because of him. He needed to be close by in case anything went wrong. Neal had removed that option, leaving Peter again feeling a sense of helplessness.

"I know there's a difference," he conceded quietly, "but it goes both ways; I don't want him in danger because of me, either. The only reason he's involved with Cordero is because he came after me in Venezuela."

"I know," she answered, "and he only went to Venezuela because I asked him to." She looked at him in sudden concern, "So, if something does happen to him will it be my fault, will you blame me?"

"Of course not," His voice was sharp in surprise at the direction her thinking had taken. "Neal wanted to do this. Hell, he seems to be enjoying himself. You aren't responsible for what he gets himself into."

Her eyes twinkled, concerned look transforming into one of satisfaction.

"Exactly, and neither are you." Point made, she continued. "You are right; he enjoys the challenge something like this presents; just like you do. It's who you both are, and it's what you both choose to do. You need to accept that sometimes that will put him in danger; just like I've had to learn to accept the same about you."

"Can you give Neal this same acceptance speech when he comes to dinner?" Peter petitioned. "He made a point to tell me that it wasn't my job to protect him, but he still used that stupid service agreement to try to protect me."

"That's another thing the two of you have in common; trying to control the people around you," She met his eyes steadily, and Peter knew better than to protest. "You rant, bully and strong arm. Neal uses more subtle, yet still effective, tactics. You both manipulate each other, and that needs to stop. You two have to learn to let the other make their own choices."

She was right. Both he and Neal tried to control the actions of those around them; especially each others. Their tactics were different and had evolved like some kind of elaborate game, growing more and more complicated over the years.

"You're right," he acknowledged, "and again, please share these observations with Neal, or Nathan, as he now insists I call him."

"Believe me I will," she smiled, releasing her grasp on his hand, "As soon as you get a day for dinner out of him. I supposed the hold up has been this whole situation. Any idea when it will all wrap up?"

"Not yet," he admitted, "soon I would think. I should find out at the meeting tomorrow. I'm just waiting on the when and where." He paused, concern creeping back into his voice. "I am worried, El. Something seems off about this job dropping in his lap this way."

"It does seem strange that they would offer him, what did you say he called it, a one-time thing?" Elizabeth admitted. "They may see him as an art dealer with no regard for the law, but that's hardly a resume for a drug runner."

Peter had wondered about that as well, as had Singleton and Elliott. The Cordero organization had struggled when the FBI took down their logistics man, but seemed to have reestablished their pipeline at least to some level. Why they would approach Nathan Clay for a one-time delivery had seemed out of the usual. The explanation Neal had given seemed lacking; Alberto's fondness aside, there had to be more to it than that.

"I thought maybe a trap," Peter admitted, "but Neal's right; if they suspected him of anything they'd just kill him. They wouldn't put millions of dollars worth of drugs in his hands."

"You think there is more going on here than Neal is telling you?" she asked. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Either that," Peter nodded, "or there is more going on here than they are telling him."