Peter burst through his front door with an energy he'd not possessed in over a year.
"Elizabeth!"
El appeared at the top of the stairs, carrying baby Neal with her, as blue eyed and mischievous as his name sake.
"I'm going to France!"
"Hon?" Ever accustomed to her husband's flights of fancy, even this was farfetched for him. "What's happened?"
"Neal happened." He grins stupidly at her, tearing the house apart, opening cupboards, rifling through draws. "Have you seen my flight bag? The black one?"
"Whoa, slow down." Elizabeth was determined she would get a straight answer. "Neal?"
Peter blinks at her like she's being intentionally slow. "Not this Neal," Peter kisses his son's head who is happily watching his daddy make a massive mess in their living room. "Our other Neal!"
As if that explained anything. "I'm not confused about which Neal." She'd seen Peter Burke on the chase often enough over the years to know when he was excited about something. "But hon, Neal's-"
She couldn't bring herself to say it, not without tears forming. Even after a year it hurt. Hurt to think of the young man she cared for, loved like a good step-mom should. Age didn't matter, only the roles they played, and when Peter came home, when he had to tell her what happened… despite knowing her baby was safe and growing inside of her El felt like she'd lost something incredibly precious that day. Something they could never replace.
"He's alive." Peter stood in front of her, pocketing his passport with his FBI credentials before pulling them both into a hug.
El had to sit down. Neal was squirming in her arms and she passed him quickly to Peter who eventually realized he could have broken that news much more delicately.
"Alive?" She couldn't breathe, "Peter if this is-"
"It's not like last time, I promise. I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you it's just I-" Peter stops and sits down next to his wife, letting Neal crawl across the floor over to Satchmo who's watching the couple with intrigue.
"But how?" Elle was still trying to wrap her head around it.
"The wine."
"What wine?"
Peter proceeded to fill El in on the number on the cork, which lead back to the storage crate Jones had tracked Neal to before the Pink Panther heist.
"I don't believe it." Elle's shock morphs into anger. "That little bastard – why? Why would he do this to us?"
Peter briefly flounders, he'd of course asked himself that very question again and again on his journey home, but was too happy knowing Neal was out there, that he had left clues to help Peter find him again that he didn't care about motive. But staring in his wife's bright and hurt eyes, could see El really needed one.
"I don't know." Peter bites the inside of his cheek.
"Peter?"
It was a warning and he knew it.
"I have some thoughts, but until I check them out it's impossible to say for sure." Peter grabs El's hands in his. "Only way to find out is to ask him, right?"
They stare at each other, long and hard. "Okay let's do it." She's up and heading towards the closet before he can stop her.
"We? No hon."
"Peter, you are not going half way around the world on a chase and leaving us behind!"
He gets up after her, "hon, listen. I don't know if it's safe."
"Why wouldn't it be safe?"
Peter paused, deciding what he should share and what he needed to keep to himself for now. In the end he decided, as usual, to tell her everything.
"The people Neal doubled crossed on our last case together, they were very bad guys and they all went to jail."
"So?" She pushed. Eyes narrowing demanding Peter treat her like someone with a modicum of intelligence.
"I put a call in on my way home tonight. The leader of the Pink Panthers, he died in jail recently. I don't know the details but-"
"But then someone sends you the wine and you don't know if it's related…" She nods, having spent enough time hearing about his cases, there was no way she hadn't picked up some skills.
"I don't 100% know who sent the wine. But what I do know is that Neal's alive, or at least someone wants me to think he is. Either way I need to find out the truth." Peter hugs her. "He might need my help and I can't concentrate if you and baby Neal are in harm's way."
Elizabeth looks at baby Neal playing quietly with his edible crayons in the corner. Much how she imagines grown up Neal would have done at the same age, before his birth family was torn apart leaving him alone, at the mercy of his own childish wants and impulses.
"Okay," she concedes, "we'll stay, but I want updates, don't you dare leave me in the dark on this."
Peter kisses her and immediately goes back to his frantic packing. "I'm booked on the next flight out of Kennedy, Jones is going to run the office while I'm gone and there'll be agents watching the house just in case." He sees her about to protest and cuts her off. "Just a precaution, makes me feel better."
It takes Peter another ten or so minutes to put his things together and before she knows it El is standing by the door, baby in arms ready to wave goodbye. She feels nervous, like every day he leaves for the office, only more so because despite doing field work still Peter had kept to his word and been a consistent presence in their life's. This would be the exception. But if Neal was alive and it brought him back to them, then it was worth it.
Peter lent in to kiss her goodbye and Elizabeth pulled him in, refusing to let go until she was ready. Finally allowing him to depart he was halfway down the steps when she called out.
"Peter!"
He turned, cab door open, one foot still on the sidewalk.
"Bring him home…"
He entered the airport and made it through check in and boarding in record time, the seats available were limited but he'd taken what they had. Caffrey was going to owe him big time for this. Peter swore right then and there he'd keep his promise to El. He'd find Neal like he always did and drag his soon to be sore butt back home, kicking and screaming if necessary.
"This seat taken?"
Peter blinked, thought he was imagining things again. "Diana?"
"Hey boss." She slid effortlessly into the seat next to his. "Thought you could use some company."
"Aren't you supposed to be in Washington?" He smiled.
"Well Theo is already with my parents and the bureau has given me a few days to get things sorted."
"And by get things sorted you decided to include chasing a presumed dead C.I and convicted forger halfway around the world with your ex-boss, on a hunch?"
"I liked Caffrey," her smile is easy, but Peter can see the tension in her eyes, "and I know how you feel about him. If there's a chance he's alive and knowing him, in trouble, I want to help."
"Thanks."
"I also want to ring his neck for putting you and the rest of us through hell this past year."
"Oh, I have the lecture all ready, believe me."
The engines kick in, a stewardess dressed in red and navy walks the aisle signaling everyone to take notice of the lit seat belt sign.
"You got a theory boss?"
"Woodrow." Peter spits the name. Diana listens. "The timing. I can't help but think it's connected."
"Yeah. Me too."
Arriving in France the pair are beyond jet lagged, being ill-prepared for the journey. It took an even bigger toll as neither had slept much in what was amounting to near 48 hours by the time they reached the hotel.
"Diana what is this place?" Peter's gaze is taking in the gaudy lobby, covered in gold, with wall to wall art work that Caffrey would have salivated over.
The woman, who despite the long journey still looked immaculate, dared to turn and smile. "I pulled some strings with my mother's contacts in the consulate. Don't worry I didn't say anything about Caffrey." She added off his warning look.
"It's just we don't know anything really." Peter lowered his voice, warily looking around for ease droppers. "Not officially."
"Peter, I know. Don't worry." She overtakes him, self-assured confidence coming off her in waves.
"What?" he chases after her through the lobby.
Diana rolls her eyes, a smile at the familiar awkwardness on his face. "You named your baby after him. You and Neal," she stops and turns to face him, eyes serious, "I'd do anything for Theo, so trust that I know what this means to you."
"I only ever wanted to protect him." Peter shyly looks away. "For a whole year I thought I'd failed in the worst possible way."
Aware nothing she could say or do right now would take that feeling of failure away, Diana focused on what she could do for him.
"I'll get our room keys."
Peter was walking the streets of Paris in a daze. He'd never been anywhere in Europe. In fact, the bulk of his knowledge came from reading reports on Neal's exploits at the height of his criminal career. He'd already passed three alleged crime scenes. It was a wonder how Neal never settled here for long, but then Kate wasn't with him in Europe. Hence, she was never involved in any of his investigations until towards the end when they'd realized Neal was looking for the girl. The girl they'd had the location of the entire time.
He was just coming to the end of the street when his phone rang, but the second he put it to his ear it rang out. Looking at the handset in confusion, thinking El was returning his call, it didn't take Peter long to notice the local area code of the dropped call. Peter looked around. It was early morning. Diana and he had slept most of the day yesterday, catching up on sleep. He woke about 3am this morning and as soon as he thought it sociably acceptable he came out for a walk. Hence, he was wandering Paris at 7am, looking for a young man Peter knew could be just about anywhere. Taking his chances Peter called the number back. It was picked up after the first ring.
"What walks on all fours in the morning, two legs in the afternoon and three in the evening?"
Before Peter could ask anything in return the call was cut and he was left with only silence.