"Peter!" He couldn't help but startle at little at the sound of someone hissing his name behind him. He had thought this hallway was empty when he started down it.
"Neal?" Peter turned around to find where Neal's voice was coming from.
Neal's bright blue eyes edged around the corner of the alcove he'd just passed. "What are you doing?" Peter asked looking up and down the hall to make sure they were alone.
"Waiting for you," Neal answered pulling him into the tiny space.
"I thought we agreed that we would be discreet at work."
"We're in a deserted hallway." Neal argued pulling Peter closer, using his jacket as leverage.
"I get the feeling we don't have the same definition for the word 'discreet'." Peter said, even as he put his hands around Neal's waist.
"What? It's not like we're making out on your desk."
"Neal," Peter murmured as their lips drew closer, "we are not going to make out at work."
"Of course not," Neal whispered against his lips as they met, not sounding convincing in the least.
Peter pulled away slowly, using his thumb to wipe at the moisture on his bottom lip.
"Welcome back, Peter," Neal said, stepping back and putting his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
"Thanks, but didn't you already welcome me back when everyone else did this morning."
"Did I? I'm sorry but everything's been such a blur this morning. I seem to remember waking up with this guy, sexy as hell by the way, and the next thing I know I'm waiting in this alcove."
"Really?" Peter was pressing his lips together to keep himself from smiling.
"Yeah, it's been so dull around here without you. It's been a struggle just to keep myself amused. I gotta be honest... I missed you." Neal could lie and look anyone right in the eye. The fact that he was turning his face away as he spoke said that he really meant what he was saying.
"We've spent every night for the past week-and-half together. How did you have time to miss me?"
"That was 'home Peter'. He's very different from 'work Peter'. Still amazing, but different." Neal shrugged his shoulders.
"Yeah, well, 'work Peter' is going to go grab some things from the conference room and 'work Neal' is going to...?"
"Go back to his desk and work like the good little Independent Contractor that he is?" Neal suggested brightly.
"Exactly," Peter said.
"You know 'work Peter' is kind of bossy."
Peter narrowed his eyes so he could give Neal his best glare. Which just caused Neal to roll his eyes at him. Peter had perfected that steely glare through years of training and he thought it really deserved more respect than that. Neal peeked around the corner quickly, then turned giving Peter a wink before making his getaway.
"Hey, Petey!"
"Agent Kramer?" Peter stood buttoning his coat with one hand and offering the other as he came from behind his desk, "What's DC doing in the Big Apple?"
"I can't come to visit my favorite mentee?"
"Course, course, have a seat." Peter waved to the seat in front of his desk. As Kramer settled in, Peter spared a glance into the pen. As he expected Neal, Jones and Diana all scattered under his scrutiny.
"Nothing like a visit from DC to make people scurry," Kramer quipped as Peter took his seat.
"I'm sure they have questions."
"And, so do you?" Kramer suggested. Peter opened his hands wide to show that he was ready for Kramer to continue.
"I've got a case and I think your boy in there would be a perfect fit for it."
Peter shuffled the papers on his desk. It was a nervous gesture, so he cupped his hands together to stop himself from fiddling. "In New York?"
"No it's in DC, but the agency's willing to put him up for as long as it takes and take care of his expenses."
"You know Neal's an Independent Contractor now. He chooses where he works. You're talking to the wrong man."
"Oh, I know, but Hughes suggested I talk to you first. Wouldn't want to seem like I was stepping on any toes."
"Like I said, Neal's his own man now. Would you like for me to call him in?"
Kramer frowned at him, shrugging his shoulders. "If that's alright with you?"
Peter got up, walking out of his office to look into the bullpen and point two fingers at Neal, beckoning him into his office. Jones and Diana began whispering to one another as Neal walked by, shooting them a surprised face.
"Peter," Neal greeted as he came through the door, "Agent Kramer," Neal nodded in deference as he came into the room.
"You know each other?" Peter felt his brow knitting together.
"Yeah, we met at the funeral." Neal said, sounding apologetic that he had to mention the circumstance of their meeting.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I was so out of it I don't even remember half the people who came." Peter said, moving to his desk. Neal shook his head when Peter offered the other chair in the office to him, leaning on the edge of the bookcase instead.
He had that worried look he got when others brought up El. Like Peter was going to lose it or something. Peter saw Kramer's eyes moving from him to Neal and back again. The frown was still on his face. He was thinking hard about something. Peter straightened his jacket and tie to remind himself and Neal that they were in a professional setting and should behave accordingly.
So far they had been doing a good job of keeping their private life private. Of course it had only been a few weeks and most of their co-workers knew how close they were anyway. If they had noticed that anything had changed they hadn't mentioned it, but Kramer was an outsider and sometimes outsiders could see things from a different perspective. And Kramer, Kramer was a master at reading people. Hell, he'd taught Peter how to read suspects, witnesses, a jury.
Neal must have picked up on Peter's nerves, because his voice was all business when he spoke. "So, what can I do for you Agent Kramer?"
"Well, Neal I've got a case in DC that I think could use your expertise. I was hoping you would agree to come down, go undercover, as only you could and help us out. I know you're based in NY, but if you agree to work the case you'll get to stay in the best hotel in the district and we'll pick up the tab."
Neal's eyes darted to his briefly, "And what kind of case could the DC bureau have that they would need me for?"
Kramer crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair slightly. "Art forger, one of the best I've ever seen. The thing is, he mixes his forgeries in with his legitimate dealings, so we need an expert on the inside to make sure we don't try to arrest the man only to find a warehouse full of originals. We were lucky enough to pick up his fence and know that he is looking for a replacement. He is known to be extremely picky about the people he works with. I know that you, yourself have a certain talent..."
"Alleged," Neal cut in automatically.
"Alleged," Kramer nodded his head, "talent for forgery and I thought if we could set up a meet you could lead us to an arrest."
Neal rolled his lips between his teeth as he thought, his eyes traveling to Peter's briefly. Peter pulled his gaze away but it was too late. He saw the flash in Kramer's eyes -the one that he always got when he'd figured something. Peter had almost forgotten how perceptive the man was and damned him for it.
"I'll have to think about it. I'm pretty attached to New York and something like this could keep me away for months."
"Fair enough." Kramer said, his eyes sliding to Peter, who was very purposefully not looking at Neal. "Do you think you could have a decision for me before I head back to DC in the morning?" Even though the question had been for Neal, Kramer's eyes stayed on Peter.
"I'll let you know first thing." Neal said as he straightened, coming a step closer to force Kramer to look at him.
"Till then, Neal, Peter," Kramer greeted as he stood, shaking Peter's hand and then Neal's as he left the room.
Neal watched as he did a quick jog down the stairs, stopping to pat a few backs as he made his way to the elevator.
"Peter, I think he might have picked up on something."
"You think?" Peter said on a sharp exhale.
"Did I do something wrong?"
Peter's ire deflated at the sincere confusion in Neal's face. "You know how you 'allegedly' have a talent for forgery. Well, Kramer's got a talent too. He can read people better than almost anyone I've ever known, in the agency or out. Whatever you did or I did he picked up on it."
"That's kind of creepy." Neal's face had a slightly disgusted look on it.
"Yeah, well he taught me a lot when I was a probie, but there were a few things he kept up his sleeve."
"Is this bad? Could it cause trouble for you?" Neal's voice had grown quiet with concern.
"No, I mean you're an IC now not a CI. Hughes is your direct supervisor, so there wouldn't be much agency blowback. We know that once we make our relationship public we'd be pulled from working directly together on cases. I just wanted..." Peter trailed off.
Speaking when Neal looked at him expectantly, "I wanted us to have a little more time as just us, before you know," Peter probably looked like he had tasted something sour as he said the words, "coming... out."
Neal's stifled laughter was so powerful that he had to bend at the waist as he tried to catch his breath. "Peter you make it sound like we're going to invite everyone to Christmas Dinner and surprise them."
"Well, I was hoping we'd be a little more subtle than that."
"Peter you do realize that June knows you stay over or that when I don't come home it's because I'm staying with you and that there was no way in hell Mozzie bought that story about you spilling coffee on your suit when he caught you in the apartment in a bathrobe."
"Yes, I know, but work..."
"Parker told me that Jones has a pool going."
"A what?" Peter's voice held no humor.
"A 'will they' or 'won't they' pool." Neal just shrugged at Peter's appalled face, "He was trying to get inside information before he made his bet."
"And did he get any?"
Neal gave him 'the smile' -the smile that said he'd not said anything incriminating to Parker, but had not said it in such a way that he had probably managed to confuse the hell out of the man and leave him wondering.
Peter slumped back in his chair trying to process Neal's words.
"So are you still going to enforce that 'no making out on your desk' rule?"
Peter was feeling pleasantly buzzed as Neal crawled back in the bed to cuddle up next to him. They were lying face to face on same pillow sporting matching smiles. "So, you're really not going to ask me about DC?"
"Your work decisions are your own. I'll be glad to offer my opinion, but only if asked."
Neal pursed his lips together and nodded, "Well, this is me asking?"
"Okay, let's see, I learned a lot from Kramer when I was in DC. He's very intelligent and a hard worker, very diligent and tenacious. I enjoyed the city well enough, it's not New York, but it's got its own charm. Have you been?"
"I've floated through, shall we say."
"You were on the run and didn't stop to smell the cherry blossoms."
Neal narrowed his eyes to glare, so Peter ignored him and continued, "If the case goes well, Kramer's connected enough that you could end up working nationally, even internationally."
Neal's face was growing distant as Peter spoke, "All that sounds great, but what I'd really like to know is how you feel about it."
How did he feel about Neal leaving him for months on end, possibly traveling the country, putting himself in danger in places Peter couldn't reach him? "I don't want you to go." He said squinting his eyes as he gave Neal a grimace. He knew how selfish he sounded, but it was the truth.
Neal smiled at him, it was an unusual smile for Neal, not broad or filled with false charm, but small and quiet. "Then I'm not going."
Peter felt a small wave of guilt. Neal could do amazing work, travel the world the way he always wanted, make more money...but then... Neal turned, burrowing himself into Peter's arms as they settled in for the night and Peter's guilt faded away under the pressure of Neal's head resting on his shoulder.
Neal and Peter stepped apart as they came to the 20th floor. They had stopped for some 'real' coffee and were running a little late because Neal had gotten caught up in an overly long conversation with a barista about the art program she had applied to in France.
Peter saw Neal stiffen as they came into the bullpen. Kramer was leaning over the railing in front of Peter's office. He'd obviously been waiting and seemed none too pleased about it. He had frown lines on his forehead that he tried to soften as he stood, nodding to Peter as he and Neal walked through the room to him.
"Good Morning, Agent Kramer." Neal chirped as they came up the stairs. "Good Morning? In DC we'd call this elevensies." Kramer said, smiling at his own joke.
Peter response was gruff sounding, "It's only a little after nine. We got caught up this morning." Kramer's brow to rose into his hairline. Probably due more to Peter's use of 'we' than his tone. There was a time when Peter had felt that the agency's policy of having probie's switch divisions after training was overly intrusive, but now he was beginning to see their point. Kramer had only spent maybe 20 minutes in his presence in the last 24 hours and it was already starting to feel a little overbearing.
"Shall, we." Kramer said gesturing to Peter's office as though it were his own. Peter felt his ire rise even further. "There's no need, Agent Kramer. I've already made my decision," Neal took his coffee from the holder in Peter's hand. "Your case sounds fascinating, but my base is New York and I have no interest in leaving."
Peter tried to hide his smile as Neal shot Kramer down, keeping his voice friendly as he did so. Kramer's face turned stony as Neal nodded to him once before departing for his desk. Peter offered the extra coffee he'd bought for himself to Kramer wordlessly. "No thanks," Kramer said as he watched Neal take the seat at his desk, sharing a few words with Jones who was asking Neal where his latte had gotten to.
"That's too bad. Did you tell him what an opportunity this could be for him, Petey?"
"Neal did ask what I thought and I told him, but the decision not to go was his." Peter was starting to wonder if Kramer needed an escort to the elevator.
"You sure about that, Peter?"
Peter felt his jaw tighten dangerously. "I am."
"You know the first time I saw him at the funeral," Kramer's voice softened slightly on the word funeral, "he was comforting El's aunt. I think he barely knew the woman, but he was so caring and compassionate, by the time he was done talking she was actually smiling. She told me what a help he'd been before El passed, practically a nursemaid for her and you."
Peter was taken aback by the abrupt change in topic. "What's your point?" He gritted out.
Kramer continued in a lackadaisical storytelling voice, "A few minutes later he was wheeling and dealing with the funeral director, making sure he wouldn't stick it to you on the billing. He was so damn charming I think he could have talked the man into providing the service pro bono." Kramer turned to him, "A man like Neal could build a real career for himself. It's a rare gift to be able to be all things to all people. To be just what they need, when they need it."
Peter's retort died on his lips as Kramer's words unfurled in his mind. He stood there numbly as Kramer slapped him on the shoulder and stepped around him to take the stairs down to the pen. Neal looked up from under his lashes as Kramer stormed past, turning turned to give Peter a knowing smile. The smile faded when he saw what, Peter was sure, must have been a dumbfounded expression on his face.
"I like to think I'm whatever the situation calls for." Neal had said that to him once and Peter had seen him do it. Over and over again, if they needed a forger, a gambler, a financier, an heir...anything. Neal did it. Did it so damn convincingly that Peter had, on more than one occasion, to talk suspects into believing that Neal had been the one to set them up. A few had not even been convinced until they saw Neal take the stand at trial.
Neal stood, concern showing on his face. Peter lifted his hand to wave him down -he couldn't do this right now. He needed time to think…to process. He turned toward his office door, almost dropping the coffee container he'd forgotten he was holding as he opened it.
No one could do that...no one was that good, he tried to reason, except Neal, the voice in his head chimed in reply. When Peter had needed a confidential informant, a friend, a caretaker, handyman, a lover… Neal had been right there.
Peter fingers were numb as he pressed the button to close the shades to his office. He almost never used them, unless he was interviewing a nervous witness or informant. It would cause Neal to worry, but he knew that the shade was a good as a 'do not disturb' sign and he would keep his distance until Peter was ready to talk to him. Though at that moment he wasn't sure he would ever be able to face Neal again.