One of the Best

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network.

A/N: so I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long for Peter & Elle's reunion, I know some of you were anxious for them to get back together! I hope you are happy with it. Please let me know. Reviews make me happy!

Chapter 8

Elle looked up when Peter entered the room as quietly as possible. She hadn't sent the text message that long ago, so she knew he had never made it home. She was wondering where he had been, but decided it didn't matter. She got up and threw herself into his arms; tears already streaming down her face even before she noticed his face was wet as well.

"Peter, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. I love you. I really do."

"I'm sorry too honey. I love you."

Peter murmured as he caressed her face with his hands; leaning down to kiss her thoroughly. Elle leaned closer savoring every moment of the kiss with this man she absolutely adored and hoped she hadn't lost.

Peter opened his eyes and Elle could see the profound regret there mirrored in her own eyes. She laid her head on his chest, comforted by the steady sound of his beating heart. Peter moved his hands to her back and they stood there enjoying each other's embrace; both feeling fortunate and forgiven. It was several minutes before Elle leaned back; Peter reluctantly letting her go. She reached for Peter's hand and led him back to where Neal lay, still sound asleep.

"You were right."

Elle softly whispered in Peter's ear.

"He's the one who needs to make the choices about his future and he needs to figure it out on his own. I don't think we need to tell him about his past though until he's ready. We should just accept him for who he is now and take one day at a time. While we're waiting we can build new memories with him."

Peter squeezed her hand and bent down to give her another quick kiss on her cheek. Her admission didn't really give him a sense of victory; just an overwhelming feeling of love for Elle because he knew she wanted want was best for Neal and, even if they disagreed, they would be able to work it out together.

Peter found another chair on the other side of the room, quietly moved it and sat down near Elle.

"I told him who I was and that I worked with the FBI. He didn't seem to have any recognition of me or my name; I even showed him my badge. It was interesting because then I told him his name, that he was my partner and we worked together at the FBI; it seemed to really surprise him. You should have seen his eyes, Elle, they were so big and his mouth opened to convey surprise or shock. I'm not quite sure which, but he still didn't say anything, though his expression was definitely worried. I really think Dr. Worthington is right about Neal's reaction to me…for some reason, I really seem to scare Neal and I have no idea why."

Elle gave Peter a reassuring look, and put her hand on top of his.

"I'm sure it's not you, honey. You know how much he respected and trusted you, but think about this…if you woke up and had absolutely no idea who you were or who anybody else was, I think a lot of things would be scary. Also, since he is lying flat on his back in a hospital bed, and not standing next to you, I'm sure you probably look pretty tall and intimidating from his vantage point."

There was a soft knock on the door and this time it was Shari who stepped in for her next check of Neal's vital signs and various bandages. She smiled at Peter and Elle still sitting side by side next to Neal's bed.

"You two are so supportive of Neal; I wish more patients had friends like you. You'd be surprised; some patients never have anyone visit them. It's so sad."

"Well, Neal is more than a friend, Shari - he's family."

Elle wanted to say more, but decided it was enough for now; Shari didn't need to know the whole story.

"He's very fortunate to have you and he's really going to need your support. Recovery from an injury like this can be frustrating. As Dr. Worthington told you, it could have been a lot worse."

Shari moved closer to Neal and replaced some of the bandages before she checked his blood pressure. It wasn't until she checked the dilation of his eyes that Neal moaned and started trying to move. Shari had noticed his eyes seemed to be moving rapidly under his lids; it looked like he was most likely having a bad dream.

"Peter, I need you to come over here and hold Neal's legs down while I check a few other things, we don't need him unintentionally putting any more pressure on his back and spine. Elle, I need you to hold his hand and see if you can get him to relax; he seems to respond very well to your voice."

Both Peter and Elle were out of their chairs and moving into position quickly to prevent Neal from hurting himself further.

"He's more than likely just having a bad dream, but his heartbeat is elevated, and his pupils are moving back and forth rapidly. We have to make sure he doesn't hurt himself until it passes."

##

Neal was dreaming he was in a dark alley, nervously waiting to make the exchange. He saw a figure dressed in black leather and a black ski mask appear around a corner at the other end of the alley and then a long, sleek, black limousine pulled in right behind the masked man.

"Have you got the painting?"

The masked man walked slowly and deliberately closing the gap between himself and Neal.

"Where's my money?"

Neal continued to grip the wrapped painting. The masked man signaled to someone in the limo. The back door opened and a man got out holding a shiny metallic briefcase. This second man, also wearing a black ski mask, took several steps forward, clearing the front of the limo. He clicked the briefcase open and set it on the ground a few feet from Neal so he could see the money was in there.

Neal reluctantly handed over the painting to the first man and took a step to the side to grab the silver briefcase. Neal closed the case, grabbed the handle, and straightened up. He was about to say 'Pleasure doing business with you' when he felt an unwelcome pressure in his chest.

He looked up and saw the second man holding a gun with a silencer still leveled at his chest. Neal looked down and saw his shirt turning a bright red. Struggling to breathe and unable to call for help, Neal realized as he sank to the ground in that cold dark alley that he hadn't even told Mozzie where the meet was. Mozzie had told him not to go; he said he didn't feel right about it, so it wasn't likely he'd be anxious to go searching for Neal even if he didn't come back. Neal wasn't sure any of his so called friends that he had worked with on various jobs would even care if he was gone. Kate would probably miss him, but now she was free to find someone who could give her a better life; someone who could give her more than a cheap apartment and who wouldn't have to drink cheap wine in an expensive bottle and pretend they weren't on the run. She deserved more than he could give her.

As Neal lay on the cold asphalt unable to move, his last thought was that most of all he regretted the game of cat-and-mouse with the FBI was finally over. Peter Burke would find him…dead.