White Collar Fic - It Must Be Now - Part Seven-A (WCBB)

[elrhiarhodan]

Title: It Must Be Now - Part Seven-A of Seven
Author: elrhiarhodan
Artist: treonb / Art Post
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke, David Siegel, Diana Berrigan, Theodore "Mozzie" Winters, Theo Berrigan, Sara Ellis, Clinton Jones, Matthew Keller; Peter/Elizabeth (Past), Peter/Neal (Past), Neal/Keller (Past), Peter/Neal
Word Count: ~60,000
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Major Character Illness
Beta Credit: pooh_collector, sinfulslasher
Summary: In this alternate universe, the story opens as Peter and Elizabeth's marriage ends. Peter tries to move into a new life, but finds himself haunted by his past - a relationship with Neal Caffrey when they were both students at Harvard - and a future that might come to an end far too soon.

Author’s Note: Many, many thanks to my alpha readers theatregirl7299 and miri_thompson, who provided an endless bounty of encouragement.

Even more thanks to my wonderful and talented artist, treonb, who created the beautiful and evocative promo video.

Title from the Annie Lennox Song "Oh God (Prayer)", which TreonB used in the vid.

__________________




She sat down next to Neal on one of the benches that surrounded the fountain. It had been turned off for the season, although the basin was still filled. The water reflected the deep blue October sky and the brilliant autumnal colors of the trees. It was a pleasant oasis in the middle of the hectic Financial District.

Diana knew she needed to apologize. Before Neal could say anything, she jumped in, feet first. "I like my job. I like working for you and Moz. I don't want to leave, but Peter's a friend. He's important to me."

Neal immediately put her fears to rest. "I know that. Maybe I was a little too hard on you. And you were right, I was pumping you for information and I'm sorry."

But still, Diana was surprised. "You're apologizing?" She hadn't expected Neal to realize what he did was wrong.

"Yeah. I am. It doesn't happen often, but that wasn't a nice thing to do to you. I was playing you, but my intentions were good."

She couldn't help but say, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

"That's true. And you have to understand, I was shocked to see Peter. You never mentioned his name and I had no idea that you'd worked with him."

"He was my mentor when I was fresh out of the FBI Academy. I was his probie – probationary agent – when he was working in the financial crimes division. About a year after my probie term ended, he was given a task force in Antiterrorism and took me with him. He was more than just my boss, he was my friend. But I still don't understand how come you didn't know I worked for him. He wrote my letter of recommendation; he was one of my references when I applied for the job with Sundance."

Neal offered a reasonable excuse for his ignorance. "I let Moz handle your hiring. At the time, I was up to my neck with the Mortensen acquisition. Moz said you were just what we needed, that your references checked out. And more importantly, he liked you. As I'm sure you've learned, Moz doesn't like just anyone. When I realized that we needed a troubleshooter, I knew that if Moz didn't like whoever filled that job, he would have made their life a living hell. So when Moz said he wanted to hire you, I signed off without question."

Diana asked, desperately curious, "If you'd read my file and realized that I'd worked for Peter, what would you have done?"

Neal shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I would have done pretty much the same thing that I did to you on Wednesday night."

"How come you never did a background check on Peter? Never looked for him? You certainly have the resources."

"I didn't want to. It was easier not knowing what had happened to Peter than knowing and not being able to see him. I had no clue where he'd ended up, but I figured he was married and had children. There was no way I'd interfere with that life."

Diana let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Neal Caffrey had always been something of an enigma to her. She had appreciated his intelligence, but he'd cultivated an image of someone who liked to skirt the rules. At least when it came to his personal life, that now seemed to be just an image. Maybe this was a chance to get to understand him a little better. "You said you've known Peter since college."

"Grad school for me, actually. I needed a place to stay when I started my PhD at Harvard and Peter had an opening in the house he and a friend were renting. We were housemates – and lovers – for three years. It didn't end well."

"Peter said he did something awful to you." Diana shook her head. "That doesn't sound like the Peter Burke I know – a man who'd cut off his arm before hurting a friend."

"Peter was different back then."

Diana still couldn't see it. "How?"

It didn't surprise her that Neal was reluctant to answer. "He was very driven."

"That's not so different from the Peter I know."

"Maybe a better word would be 'ambitious'. He was focused on his future and wouldn't let anything interfere with achieving his goals."

"Including you?"

Neal nodded, the gesture filled with sadness. "Yeah, including me."

She had to ask, "What did he do?"

Neal wasn't going to tell her. "It's ancient history, Di; we've both come to terms with it. And for what it's worth, the Peter Burke you know is a much better man than the one I did. Not that Peter was bad or mean or anything like that. He was young and he had dreams. It was the Eighties and being in a relationship with another man would have interfered with the future he wanted for himself."

Diana wasn't convinced.

"Let me put it to you like this. The Peter I knew would never have outed himself to anyone, not to a very young subordinate, and especially not to make her feel more secure. It simply would never have occurred to him to do that."

Diana didn't like the sound of that. "It sounds like he was a selfish prick back then."

Neal chuckled. "He was a good person, but yes, something of a selfish prick."

"But he's not now."

"No. It's very clear that he's changed. He grew up. We both did."

Diana let that drop and turned the conversation to a more immediate worry. "He's very sick, though."

"Yeah." Neal buried his face in his hands.

"I didn't want to ask for details yesterday. He looked like he was at the end of his rope. Can you tell me?"

"Peter said I could give you some of the details. He has lymphoma. It's fairly advanced, but not untreatable."

Diana sucked in her breath. She'd figured it was bad, but she hadn't expected it to be this bad. "What are they doing?"

"He's been having radiation treatments for about a month, and he just started chemo. His first session was last Monday, and instead of staying home and recovering, the idiot insisted on going to work."

"No wonder he looked so awful. And that would explain what Elizabeth said."

"Elizabeth, that's Peter's ex-wife?"

"Right. When I saw her on Saturday, she had said that while Peter didn't look good, he didn't look like he was deathly ill."

Neal nodded.

"I'm guessing that the recent chemo session would account for the difference."

"Yeah." Neal's expression was unreadable. Diana wondered if he was going to ask her to tell him about Peter's ex, more than what she'd shared on Wednesday night. But his comment surprised her.

"I guess I should be grateful for Peter's stubbornness."

"Huh?"

"If he hadn't insisted on going into work, to take the meeting with us – with you – we never would have reconnected."

"I still find it strange. You and Peter."

Neal smiled a little shyly and his eyes went, for lack of a better word, soft.

"You love him."

"Always have. Even when I hated him, I loved him. Don't know if that makes me a pathetic loser, to spend twenty-five years longing for the one who got away."

Diana did something that she never would have dreamed of doing ten minutes ago. She draped an arm around his shoulder and gave him a hug. "You're not the only one who still wants the one who did you wrong."

Neal leaned into her for just a second. "Thanks."

They sat there for a few more minutes, staring at the fountain. "You know, it is a rather creepy coincidence."

Neal chuckled. "There are no coincidences. It's all a matter of probability."

Diana laughed, too. She just remembered that Neal was a mathematician. "You would think that way."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

As Neal had promised, the order of fresh fruit arrived within an hour. It wasn't some grand platter fit for entertaining, but a collection of containers from Whole Foods at Columbus Center, a few blocks away. Peter had to laugh at the extravagance. Watermelon, strawberries, a variety of melon, plus grapes and kiwi – all beautifully ripe, sliced and ready for eating.

Peter managed a few pieces of watermelon and about a dozen grapes. The fresh taste staved off the nausea and managed to satisfy the slightly hungry feeling that had been nagging him. He knew that this wasn't enough and that he probably should have some protein, but it all seemed like too much effort.

Neal would likely argue and give him a look, then go make him something to eat. But Neal wasn't here right now.

He checked in with Blake at the office, who was happy to report that there was nothing urgent that required his attention. When he mentioned that he hadn't heard back from Diana Berrigan, Peter told him not to worry, that he'd spoken with her over the weekend. Blake also reported that Ms. Shepard had signed off on the client engagement letter and they'd just received the copy signed by Mr. Caffrey.

"Is there anything you need, sir?"

"For you to stop calling me sir. Or Mr. Burke."

"Okay … Peter."

"There's nothing else. But if something comes up, text me."

"Ms. Shepard said not to bother you. That anything critical should be diverted to her office. Wait, I probably shouldn't have told you that."

Peter smiled. Blake was good and he knew exactly what he was doing. "So – anything critical?"

"Nope."

"Really? Because I'm bored and wouldn't mind helping sort out a crisis or two."

"Before or after you toss your cookies?"

Peter laughed. "You're pushing it, Blake. And for the record, no cookie-tossing today."

"Not yet, you mean. It's barely two o'clock."

Peter checked his watch and was surprised to see that Blake was correct. "Feels much later."

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?" Blake paused, clearly for effect, then added, "Peter."

"No, I'm good." He extracted a promise from Blake to text or call him with anything important, and as he hung up, he yawned. He'd fought off the urge to nap after he'd spoken with Neal. There had been a delivery to wait for, but now there was no reason not to stretch out on the couch and shut his eyes.

Except he couldn't seem to shut off his brain. That wasn't an uncommon occurrence, even before he got sick. But unfortunately, what he used to do when his body was tired and his mind wasn't, was not an available option. Peter laughed a little bitterly at the irony – he'd only discovered the tumor in his groin when he was jerking off.

He let his hand rest lightly over his cock; dressed in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else, masturbating would be easy – if only he could get an erection.

His spank bank was pretty much drawn down to the limit, and he could think of almost nothing titillating. He certainly wasn't going to fantasize about Elizabeth – that was simply all kinds of wrong. As he mentally riffed through some of his college days, none of the memories of the girls he'd fucked or even the boys he'd fucked did a damn thing for him. It wasn't just that his dick wasn't working, he didn't find them even mentally arousing.

But there was one fantasy that he hadn't yet tried, one that for twenty-five years he'd ruthlessly pushed aside, because touching himself and thinking about Neal could only lead to disaster. But maybe not anymore. Neal was in his life, and more than that, Neal loved him.

Peter summoned a memory, one that had terrible, wonderful power – their first kiss.

He could feel Neal's lips ghosting over his, his tongue playful and wicked, and under his palm, Peter feel his cock stir. The sensation was muted through the layers of fabric – he didn't want to touch himself, he didn't want to feel the still healing scar tissue just to the right of his dick. But the more he thought about Neal, the stronger the sensation became. He was actually getting an erection.

But as soon as he allowed the delight in that accomplishment to distract him from his fantasies, he lost it. It didn't matter. He wasn't permanently impaired, he just needed to give it some time.

Peter refused to accept that he wouldn't have the time to give

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

There were days when Elizabeth wished she'd stayed in the art consulting business. The hours were much more regular and it was unlikely that she'd ever be called upon to bail an octogenarian socialite out of jail. But she'd never been wholly satisfied with that work, which was why she'd spread her wings in the first place. Ironically, when she and Peter had first been married and he was an up-and-coming FBI agent, her work with the Diarmitt had seemed so special and out of the ordinary, but when he'd moved into the private sector and started making stupid money, it turned out that "art consultant" was something that just about every other trophy wife was doing.

Not that event planning wasn't a market cornered by the town and country set, but unlike her so-called peers, she actually worked – managing the process from start to finish. She sweated the details, and while she wasn't a micromanager, she didn't delegate a lot.

But today, she really wished she could just kick back with a girly drink – no, make that a full pitcher of girly drinks – and tell Yvonne and Brittany that they needed to handle everything because she was too exhausted to deal with anyone else's crap today.

Except that she couldn't do that. It was barely three o'clock and there was still a ton of work to do. This was her business, she built it from nothing and it mattered more to her than anything – including her marriage to an undeniably good man.

El rubbed at the space between her eyes; she could feel the start of a blistering headache at the simple thought of Peter. She'd called Diana this morning, hoping that she'd followed through and gone to see her ex, but Diana had just texted a reply, saying that she'd follow up later in the week. Which was a bullshit answer if she'd ever heard one. There was something going on, but unless she went to see Peter herself, she wasn't going to get any real answers.

Elizabeth checked her schedule, and there was no way she could wedge in a visit with Peter until the end of the week. There were two corporate parties, three bridal consultations, and tomorrow afternoon, a trip to Oheka Castle in Cold Spring Harbor with Neal Caffrey.

She sighed. Of all the appointments on her calendar, this was the one that would be easiest to move and the one she least wanted to reschedule. Then she realized that she'd never received a confirmation back from Neal that he could make it on Tuesday. To Elizabeth's chagrin, when she checked her email, she found that she'd never actually contacted Neal about the appointment.

Now she had a dilemma, should she go forward and set up the appointment with Neal or reschedule with the Oheka people?

It didn't seem right to just push Neal aside without a word. Not only was he wealthy and well-connected – which was good for business – but he was a friend.

So, rather than just make the change without consulting him, she decided to give him a call and explain. It's not like he didn't know what was going on with her personal life.

El half expected that Neal wouldn't answer – it was the middle of the day and likely as not, he was in a meeting. His phone rang three times and she was mentally composing her message when Neal answered. "Elizabeth! Good afternoon."

"I'm glad I caught you. I'm following up about the plans to take a look at Oheka Castle." El could hear the tentativeness in her voice.

"Is there a problem?"

She sighed. "A small one. I heard back from the catering manager and she's got time to give us a tour and a tasting tomorrow afternoon."

"That's short notice. I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it. Something's come up."

El was relieved. "Good, because I was going to ask you if you wouldn't mind rescheduling."

"You double booked me?" Neal was definitely laughing at her.

"No, unfortunately not." She couldn't help the heavy sigh.

"Unfortunately? What's going on?"

"I need to do something I'm not looking forward to."

"Since you said you aren't double booked, I take it you're not talking about getting your plumbing checked."

"Neal!" She laughed at his outrageousness. "No, and believe me – I'd rebook that in a heartbeat."

"Then what's the matter?"

"I need to go see my ex."

"Your ex-husband?" Elizabeth wasn't sure, but there was something strange in Neal's tone.

"Yeah. I'm really worried about him. And the more I think about it, the more worried I get."

"I thought he told you to 'get lost'? That he didn't want you in his life anymore?"

"He did, but I just can't shake the feeling that there's something terribly wrong."

"And you still love him? You want to take care of him? Even though you divorced him?"

Elizabeth thought Neal's questions were a little out of line, but they were friends and he was worried about her. "I will always care for Peter. We were married for a long time, and although I wanted more out of life than being his wife, I can't stop caring. Peter's alone, he doesn't have any close friends, not the type who'll look out for him."

"Like a wife would?"

"Or an ex-wife. Someone needs to nag him to go to the doctor. Peter's one of these men who thinks he's invincible, that he'll never get sick. I doubt he's had a physical since he left the FBI."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I was thinking of ambushing him tomorrow night at his apartment." Then she rethought that plan. "That'll be a problem – he's in a doorman building and I won't be able to sneak in. Maybe I should try his office."

"How about instead of ambushing him, you call him. Tell him you want to talk to him."

"After what happened the last time I saw him, I doubt he'd even answer the phone."

"Can you call him from a number that he won't recognize?"

"Good idea. Anyone ever tell you that you've got a devious mind?"

Neal chuckled. "Actually, yes."

"Thanks for understanding. And for being a friend."

"Happy to help."

"I'll call you next week about rescheduling the Oheka trip."

"Thanks. And good luck with the ex."

El hung up and was about to ask Yvonne if she could borrow her phone when Bitsy Cunningham called. It seemed that her granddaughter went into labor last night and had a baby boy. She wanted to know if Elizabeth would be interested in catering the circumcision?

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

And so your chickens have all come home to roost.

Neal rubbed his eyes, feeling like an absolute heel. He couldn't believe he actually asked Elizabeth if she still loved Peter. He couldn't believe how threatened he'd felt. How threatened he still felt.

The sharp pressure of blunt claws against his thigh distracted Neal from his dangerous thoughts and he smiled. It seems that his new companion easily picked up on his distress. Lula was an eighteen-month-old pure-bred golden retriever that Moz – out of the goodness of his heart, and quite possibly a desire to make Diana insane – bought for Theo Berrigan this afternoon. She'd been waiting at the office, together with all the accoutrements required for introducing a dog into a household, when he and Diana had returned to the office after their conversation in Bowling Green.

Diana had taken one look at the dog and all but tore Mozzie's head off. "I told you, Theo's too young for a puppy."

Moz rocked back on his heels, unfazed. "She's not a puppy. She's a year and a half old, trained and spayed and housebroken. What's the problem?"

"The problem is that I told you that I'd get Theo a dog when he's a little older. How am I supposed to take care of her?"

"You have a nanny."

"Who's not paid to watch after a dog. Which will need to be walked several times a day."

"I don't see the problem with that. Theo can go with the nanny." Moz was obdurate. "Every boy should have a dog."

"Did you have a dog when you were three years old?"

"No." Moz's expression changed, grew hard. Neal knew that Diana wasn't aware of Mozzie's childhood. A dog was one of the very many things that Moz didn't have as a child.

"Dogs need to be walked, regardless of the weather. And well after little boys go to bed. I can't – I won't – leave my son alone to walk a dog. Not until he's older."

Moz sagged, defeated. "I didn't think about that."

Diana softened. "I know – and I really do appreciate that you mean well and that you want the best for Theo. But having a dog right now is not going to work."

Moz looked at the dog, who gazed back up at him with dark, liquid eyes. "I hope I can find a home for her. She was a rescue – her owners were moving overseas."

Neal had watched the argument from the doorway, and a wonderful idea formed. "I'll take her."

The other two looked at him – calculation on Mozzie's face, concern and then comprehension on Diana's.

"I've been thinking that I'd like a dog."

Moz, without a shred of irony, said, "Dogs need to be walked, Neal. You work, you travel."

"There's no reason why the office couldn't be pet friendly – we do own the building. And as for traveling, I won't be doing a lot for the foreseeable future."

Moz had remained skeptical. "Oh? You're giving up your seat at the tournament in Monte Carlo next month?"

Neal had forgotten about that, but there was no way he'd be leaving Peter anytime soon. "Yeah."

"Hmm. Well, if you want Lula, you can have her."

"Lula? That's her name?"

"Short for Alleluia. Seemed like less of a mouthful." Moz had handed him the leash. "Now, get out. Some of us have work to do."

Diana had taken the dog bed while Neal managed a bag with food and other sundries, and the three of them headed back to his office.

Lula – and Neal actually liked the name – settled down on the bed and Diana fished a small toy out of the bag for her to play with. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Getting me out of a tricky situation. Moz probably would have worn me down – fed me a story about having to take the dog to a shelter if I didn't want her. Which would have meant that Theo would have ended up with a much-longed for new playmate, and I would have had a major headache on my hands."

"Can I ask, how come Moz bought Theo a dog? That doesn't seem particularly in character for him."

"He occasionally watches Theo for me – occasionally. And Theo mentioned a dog, which set Moz off."

"'Every boy should have a dog'?"

"Right."

Neal had asked, suddenly not so sure he'd done the right thing. "Will Peter like her? He'd mentioned something about a dog – his ex had gotten custody. And he seemed a little upset about that."

"Yeah – Peter loves dogs. He adored Satchmo – I remember how excited he'd been when he brought the puppy home from the breeder. You'd have thought he was talking about his own flesh and blood. I'm guessing you want the dog for Peter?"

"I was thinking that it would be good for him to have a dog – something to keep him company. A puppy wouldn't be smart – too much work, but Lula seems very placid and well-trained, if the five minutes I've been exposed to her is anything go to by."

"You know, that sounds like an excellent idea."

"Thanks."

Diana left and a few minutes later, Elizabeth had called. And everything suddenly seemed so complicated.

But Lula wasn't complicated. She was pretty, with soft fur, floppy ears and endlessly deep eyes that gazed at him with adoration and trust.

"Peter's going to love you, girl. You're going to love him. And we're both going to make sure that he's happy, right?"

Of course Lula didn't understand a word Neal said, but she nudged his hand with her head, demanding what was her due – all the affection and attention he could provide.

Neal snapped on Lula's leash and took the supplies that Moz had provided. As he walked out, his admin caught his attention – there were papers to sign. Which was nothing new, there always were things to sign – contracts, orders, banking instructions. He didn't want to deal with any of that today. Instead, he instructed her to call for his car and forward anything urgent to Moz for his approval. Otherwise, he'd handle everything tomorrow.

As he waited at the curb for his car, Lula piddled on the dirt at the base of a tree. So, of course, Neal had to ask, "Do you have to do any other business?" Lula just sat at his feet and gave him a happy pant.

She was a good passenger, content to sit on the floor in the back of the car rather than try to stick her head out the window. Neal made a mental note to get more information about Lula's former owners. She was almost too well behaved.

During the ride, Neal tried to find the best way to tell Peter that he knew Elizabeth, that their relationship was a matter of coincidence – except he knew that he remembered what he'd told Diana earlier, that there were no coincidences, it was all a matter of probability.

It wasn't as if he'd known anything about Peter's married life until Diana had mentioned his ex-wife's name during their conversation following the meeting at Shepard and Franklin. But he knew that at some point on Sunday, he should have mentioned Elizabeth. It might have been a little awkward, but they would have gotten past it. Now, after he'd grilled Peter about the state of his heart, about whether he still loved his ex, and worse – after his conversation with Elizabeth herself, he felt like a sleaze and Peter would likely think he was truly devious.

He arrived at Peter's building and went through the process of introducing himself – and Lula – to the doorman. This morning, before they'd left for the appointment with the radiation oncologist, Peter had told the doorman then on shift to add Neal to his list of cleared visitors and handed Neal a spare key card for his private elevator.

The doorman checked his list and opened the front door, casting a wary eye on Lula. She behaved like royalty, not even deigning to notice the man in the red coat.

On the brief trip up to Peter's apartment, Neal couldn't stop wondering if Elizabeth had spoken to Peter, if she was now on her way back into her ex-husband's life.

The apartment was quiet and dark and Neal worried for a moment that Peter wasn't home. But his jacket was still on a chair in the foyer – where he'd left it this morning after they'd come back from the radiation appointment. His wallet was also there, resting on top of a receipt from the delivery service.

Lula sniffed the floor and the air, and pulled him towards the main living space, where he found Peter stretched out on the couch, his hand cupping his groin, a smile on his lips, and fast asleep.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what Peter had been doing – or at least thinking of doing, since his hand was outside his clothing.

Neal let go of Lula's leash and waited to see what she'd do. The girl was smart and she made a beeline for Peter, carefully sniffing him before giving him a rather sloppy kiss on his cheek. Neal watched in amusement as Peter, still asleep, tried to brush Lula away. But the dog wasn't going to be deterred. She licked Peter again, a long swipe of her tongue against his neck and cheek.

Peter muttered something that sounded like, "No, Satch" and rolled over, turning his back to both Neal and Lula. The dog looked at him, as if she was waiting for further instructions. Neal gave her a casual wave of his hand – a gesture to continue. She panted happily and jumped on the couch, continuing her affectionate investigation of the sleeping man. Neal pulled out his phone and started taking pictures, although there really wasn't enough light in the room. But some moments needed to be preserved.

Lula's attentions finally proved too much for Peter's somnolent state. He rolled back over and opened his eyes. "What the hell?" Peter sat up abruptly and Lula slid inelegantly off the leather couch and let out a sharp bark of displeasure.

Neal flicked on a light. "Hey there – brought you some company."

Peter rubbed his eyes. "What?"

Lula launched herself back onto the couch and draped herself over Peter's lap. "Why is there a dog here?"

Neal smiled, because despite the slightly irritated tone in Peter's voice, he was already stroking Lula's head. "I thought you'd like some company in the afternoons."

"So, you got me a dog?" Peter looked at Lula's face and was rewarded with a tongue washing.

"Yeah. How are you feeling?"

Peter seemed to take stock of himself. "All in all, not too bad. I slept for most of the day. And thank you for the fruit. It was just what I wanted."

"Good." Neal sat down next to Peter and Lula's formally exquisite manners seemed to have crashed under the canine imperative to give as much affection as possible to everyone in her vicinity.

"So – the dog."

"Her name is Alleluia – but Lula for short."

"You just went out this afternoon and bought me a dog because I made some passing remark?"

"No, not quite. Mozzie bought Lula as a gift for Theo Berrigan on the theory that every boy should have a dog."

"And Diana refused to accept."

"Right. Theo's too young and a dog would not be an easy addition to her household."

"And you thought that giving me the dog would be a good thing?"

"Yeah, but if you don't want her, I'll be happy to keep her. She can come to the office with me." Neal gave Lula a belly rub and she panted ecstatically. "And I'm cutting down on my travel, so doggie daycare won't be an issue."

"Why aren't you going to be traveling?"

Neal just gave Peter a look.

"Ah right." Turning his attention back to Lula, Peter commented, "And if you do need to go away, you can always hire a pet sitter."

"That is true, if you're not able to care for her."

It was a precious gift to come home and sit with Peter on the couch, imprisoned by the warm weight of an affectionate dog. Neal could almost forget the uncomfortable burden he was carrying.


GO TO PART SEVEN-B

Comments

[hawk-soaring.livejournal.com]

I'm thinking a chat needs to be first order of business before everything blows up in Neal's face. *bites lip*

[elrhiarhodan]

{{{{{{HUGS}}}}}}}}