I'm sorry this chapter took so long, but I've been focusing on my other story and I've also been trying to come up with a good ending for this story.

Well, enjoy!

Neal woke to the sound of someone cursing. He opened his eyes to see Peter sitting in a chair right next to the bed Neal was in, looking angrily at his phone.

"Did the pigs win again?" Neal asked.

Peter looked up, surprised to see Neal awake. "For now," he said matter-a-factly as he put his phone away.

"So, did you get anything done besides taking down poor pigs' houses?"

"They deserve it," Peter said seriously. "But yes. We found the kid you saved from those guys."

Neal was instantly intrigued. He sat up more, ignoring the protests from his aching body.

"He didn't really want to talk to me, but after I mentioned his hero, he started talking," Peter said, pointing at Neal, and Neal didn't know if he was being sarcastic or not. "He told me that they loaned him some money so he could buy a place for a restaurant he's going to open, but he didn't give them the money back in time, so they thought it would be a good idea to beat him up."

"Did you find them?"

Peter nodded. "Yep. Turns out they frequent a certain bar. The idiots actually tried to run for it." Peter smiled at the memory. "Diana tackled one while Jones body-blocked another. The last one must have seen that there was no escape because he just gave up."

"That, or it was the death stare you were no doubt giving him that scared him into submission," Neal said, knowing exactly how scary Peter could look when he's mad.

Peter nodded. "That may have helped," he said. "Before we even separated them, they were tripping over each other for a deal - that was pretty funny."

Both men were silent for a moment, until Neal spoke up. "How long was I asleep?" It seemed like Peter had gotten a lot done while he was out.

"Um," Peter said, then looked at his watch. "About four hours."

"Wow," he said. "I guess I can't get out of here just yet then." He smiled mischievously. "Unless I take Mozzie up on his idea," he said, just to bug Peter.

"Oh no. I'm not letting that happen," Peter said. "I just got him out of here. You're just going to have to do something I've never seen you do - be patient."

"I can be patient," Neal said. "I just usually choose not to be."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Peter said.

There was another silence and Neal started to get bored. He looked at the IV in his arm and was just about to pick at it when Peter put a hand over his.

"Don't touch that," he scolded. He let go of Neal's hand and leaned back in his chair. "I knew you wouldn't be able to hold still for more than a minute."

"You said I wouldn't be able to be patient," Neal pointed out. "I was being patient, but I'm also bored."

Peter sighed, then pulled something out of a bag that was next to the chair that Neal didn't notice before. It was a portable chess set.

"You want to play chess with me?" Neal asked, skeptical.

"Yeah, why not? This way I can see firsthand if you're cheating or not." Peter put the board on a rolling table that was at the end of the bed, then rolled it up so it was hanging over the bed.

"How do you cheat in chess, Peter?"

"I don't know, you're the master - you tell me," he said, then looked at Neal with amusement in his eyes. "Wait, you're not afraid I'll win, are you?" he teased.

Neal scoffed. "Of course not," he said, then started moving the white pieces to their spots. "I call white."

Peter swatted Neal hand away. "No, it's my set, so I get to choose what color you get."

"What, are we twelve now?" Neal asked.

"I guess we are," Peter said.

Neal smiled at the memory those words brought up. It was one of their first cases together. He and Peter were after a man named Dorsett. They were watching Dorsett's girlfriend to see if the man would come by and see her, but when Neal got bored, Peter let him go talk to her and her friend. It turned out differently than Peter expected, but Neal did find the painting. It was their first stakeout, and the first time Neal got a whiff of Peter's deviled ham sandwiches.

"You're the criminal, so you get black," Peter said.

"Alleged criminal," Neal said automatically.

"You were convicted - you went to jail," Peter said.

"For bond forgery - that's a White Collar crime," Neal pointed out.

"Yes, but I'm the White Collar agent," he countered. "The one that caught you - twice, I might add."

Neal sighed. "Fine, you get white, but don't think I'll go easy on you."

Peter smiled. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

WCWCWCWC

One day and five chess games later, Neal having won four-to-one, brought Neal and Peter to the parking lot of the hospital. Neal had just been released from the hospital and he was happy to be able to get back to his own apartment with his own bed with its high thread count sheets.

Once they were out of the parking lot, Peter spoke up. "Have we learned anything from the last couple of days?" He asked.

"My two mile radius is a very dangerous place," Neal said with a serious voice, but the twinkle in his eyes showed that he was joking.

"Well, at least you learned something," Peter bantered back. "I've been waiting for this day for a long time - we should celebrate."

"Sounds good, but you're buying," Neal said. "Don't look at me like that, I only get paid seven-hundred a month, and that goes to my housing bill."

Peter sighed. "Fine, I'll pay. But we're not going to some fancy restaurant so you can jack up the bill," he said.

Neal nodded. "Okay, that seems fair. Where do you have in mind, then?"

Peter smiled. "My house," he said. "El's making those little chickens you like."

"They're called Cornish hens, Peter," Neal said.

"I know what they're called, I just like to bug you," Peter said.

"I can believe that," Neal said. "Sounds good. Was this Elizabeth's idea or yours?"

"Mine. This way I can keep an eye on you," Peter said.

"Do you really think I'm going to be going into anymore dark alleys with shady guys anytime soon?"

"One can never be too careful when it comes to you and your lack of impulse control," Peter said.

"Aw, Peter. You're worried about me," Neal said.

"That's not what I said," Peter said, shaking his head.

"I know what you said," Neal said, a knowing smirk on his face.

Peter smiled back and the rest of the ride home was made in companionable silence while the radio played a basketball game quietly in the background.

WCWCWCWC

Satchmo was at Neal and Peter's feet the moment they came through the door, wagging his tail and smiling in a way only dogs can.

"Hey, Satchmo," Neal said as he scratched behind the dogs ear.

When Neal stopped petting Satchmo to take off his jacket, Satchmo went over to his owner with renewed enthusiasm. Peter gave him a long pat before walking into the living room to find his wife, with Neal and Satchmo in tow.

Elizabeth was sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, but when she heard the two men enter she got up to greet them.

"Hi, hon. Hi, Neal," she said happily as she came up to them.

"Hey, hon," Peter said as he gave El a quick peck on the lips. "Is dinner about ready?"

"Yep, just about," Elizabeth said, then turned to Neal. "I visited you while you were in the hospital, but you were sleeping."

"Yeah, he did a lot of that," Peter commented.

Elizabeth playfully hit Peter with the towel she was holding. Peter pretended to be hurt by rubbing his arm where he was hit.

"Yeah. Sorry, El, but they kept me sedated so I wouldn't be able to resist when the doctors took my non-vital organs," Neal explained.

Elizabeth gave him a worried look, but whether it was her worrying about his lack of non-vital organs or if she thought the concussion he had was having some bad side effects was yet to be determined.

"Mozzie's words, not mine," he explained.

Elizabeth made an 'o' with her mouth and Peter shook his head.

Just then, a timer dinged in the kitchen. "Well, that'd be dinner," Elizabeth said. "You boys hungry?"

"Starved. You wouldn't believe what the hospital considers food, Elizabeth," Neal said.

"You're overreacting," Peter said. "It wasn't that bad."

"You didn't have to eat it," Neal said.

"I had an apple and it wasn't bad."

"That was the only good thing there. It's hard to mess up fruit," Neal said.

"Boys, dinner is getting cold," Elizabeth yelled from the dining room. Neither man had even seen her leave as they were too busy arguing.

"Smells delicious," Neal said as both men walked into the dining room where Elizabeth was setting the table.

The trio ate and chatted about the new venue Elizabeth was going to cater and about this week's office gossip. It was a lovely evening and Neal went home happy and full.

The bad guys were locked up and Neal was safe and well on his way to recovery. Everything seemed to be back to normal, well as normal as the young conman-turned-criminal consultant's life could be. But he knew he wouldn't change it for anything.

The End

Thank you guys for reading, and for sticking with me even though this story took a back-burner. I'm sure those of you who write stories understand that sometimes motivation just leaves you when you need it the most.

I'd like to thank 'Larura' once again for beta-ing my story! You've been great at getting back to me quickly, so thanks for that!

Your reviews made me smile! :-)