A/N: This is it. Final chapter. I had so much fun writing this story. I might write more Peter and El stuff in the future, but for now I think it's time to let them go (and perhaps watch White Collar again). Thanks so much to all of you who read, reviewed, and enjoyed this story!

"... A couple of months later, I was told that a certain inmate had escaped from prison with only four months left on a four-year sentence, forcing me to go out and catch him – again –, making me late for dinner – again –, and you know the rest."

Peter leaned back, feeling slightly exhausted, but in a good way.

El had invited Neal to come over for dinner. Their empty plates were still on the table, but they had long since moved from the dinner table to the couch. Because somehow – Peter wasn't exactly sure how, then again, this was Neal they were talking about – Neal had persuaded him and El to share their full story with him. He had insisted that he only knew bits and pieces of it and that the was dying to know the rest. At first, Peter hadn't liked the idea of giving Neal any further ammunition – telling him too much about anything that wasn't case-related was usually a bad idea –, but it had actually been fun to relive it all.

Of course, they hadn't shared any of the more intimate or deeply personal details with Neal (nor would he have wanted to hear them). But one look at El, who was now sitting next to him, leaning against his shoulder while he had one arm wrapped around her back, and Peter had known that she remembered everything just as vividly as he did.

"That's quite an amazing story. Thanks for sharing it with me," Neal said, and he really did look like he didn't regret asking for it, even though it had turned into a long night.

"Well, you've been a part of it for so long now, it's really your story, too," El told him.

Neal's face lit up with that smile that was bright enough to block out the sun. "Really?"

El laughed and reached out to squeeze Neal's hand. "Of course."

Not too long ago, witnessing this kind of familiarity between his wife and his CI would have driven Peter up the wall, but now he was able to smile about it. About El, who had a heart that was so big and so kind that she had been willing to welcome a man into their house who used to be the criminal who took up every minute of her husband's time (and sometimes still did). And about Neal, who seemed to long for exactly the kind of comfort and unwavering support El offered to anyone who deserved it.

And Neal deserved it. He just needed to commit to doing the right thing this time.

"As long as you boys haven't been keeping any other secrets from me," El said.

"Um, what?" Peter snapped out of his thoughts in alarm.

"She's talking about the ring, Peter," Neal helped him out.

Peter's shoulders relaxed. "Oh, honey, I would have told you about that sooner. I just didn't want to upset you."

"Why would I be upset?" El asked, laughing. "I think it's hilarious."

Peter watched the broad smile on his wife's face with a small frown. "It's not that funny," he muttered.

El ignored him and looked back at Neal. "And thank you for the ring, I guess."

"I just laid the groundwork. Peter picked it," Neal replied graciously. He had talked a very different game before, but it was nice of him not to make Peter look bad in front of Elizabeth.

"Either way, your very first case together was a resounding success if you ask me," El said, giving Neal a wink and resting her hand on Peter's knee.

"Yeah, although if I had known Peter would have such a hard time figuring out how to propose, I would have given him some pointers on that, too," Neal said.

So much for not making Peter look bad. He shot his CI a dirty look. "I didn't need any pointers from someone who looked like he had just run away from a school field trip. What exactly were you doing in that jewelry store by the way?"

"You're right, Peter. You had already figured out the most important part. You told me your fiancée was perfect, and while I doubted you back then, I now have to admit that you weren't exaggerating," Neal smoothly sidestepped the question and flashed a smile at El.

Okay, there were certain levels of familiarity that Peter did not want to see between the two. "Stop flirting with my wife, Neal!" he said.

"Come on, Peter, after the story you just told me, I'd be crazy to even try," Neal replied with a grin.

"And we both know how much you love a challenge," Peter reminded him.

"Actually, I think that's you," Neal argued. "I'm not a fan of setting myself up for failure."

"Good, because I already won this one. Just as long as we're clear on that."

"Crystal. But you should be careful, Peter. Jealousy is not a very attractive quality."

"Neither is philandering."

El looked from one to the other and cleared her throat. "Excuse me, are you done arguing about what I do or do not find attractive? Because watching you two get into a measuring contest definitely isn't it."

Peter tried to look chastised. He sometimes got carried away in these verbal sparring matches with Neal. But it kept him on his toes. Handling Neal would definitely never get old.

"Sorry, honey," he said and pressed a soft kiss to her temple in apology.

"Yes, sorry, Elizabeth. But you know it's a compliment when two grown men start to behave like teenagers. Only happens around beautiful women."

"Neal!"

"Sorry, force of habit," Neal grinned.

El shook her head a little. "Why don't you use all that charm of yours on someone who's not married? I know losing Kate was hard and moving on is even harder, but I cannot believe that there isn't anybody else out there for you."

"That's an easy thing to say for someone who has already found their one in seven billion," Neal pointed out.

Peter used the arm he had wrapped around El's shoulder to pull her a little closer and she looked up to smile at him. When considering those numbers, the odds of meeting each other, it did seem like a small miracle that they were sitting here right now.

"Peter and I did find each other, but that doesn't mean we didn't also take a leap of faith in the beginning," El told Neal.

"We did?" Peter asked, eyebrows raised.

"Of course, we did, honey," El replied, squeezing his knee. "I could have not been strong enough to be an FBI wife. You could have grown tired of me dragging you to fancy events or nagging you about good food and good wine. We could have changed our minds about what we wanted our life to look like. There's always a million things that can go wrong."

Peter shrugged. "I don't think I ever worried about any of those. I guess I was ready to take that leap the first moment I saw you."

El snorted. "Sure, you were, hon, after putting in a surveillance request and running a background check on me and everyone I had ever known…"

"Those were for your safety, not mine," Peter protested.

"Really? And what if I had been seeing someone back then?" El asked.

Peter furrowed his brow. That wasn't a scenario he liked to think about. "Like I said, I would have made sure that you were safe. That he didn't have so much as a parking ticket and that he treated you right. And then… I guess you would have always been my one that got away."

"Seriously, Peter?" Neal chimed back in. "Have I taught you nothing?"

"What? Was I supposed to challenge him to a hat twirling contest?" Peter scoffed.

"No, but at the very least you should have stuck around. Run into her a couple of times, purely by accident of course. Make up a few follow-up meetings because of the theft investigation and just happen to discuss those over a nice lunch or dinner…"

"Right, and that's why I'm an FBI agent and you're a con man."

Neal shrugged. "At least I wouldn't have let her get away."

El chuckled. "What if I had still been with Josh?" she asked Peter.

Apparently, that was the downside of reliving the past. It brought up the bad stuff, too, or rather the inconsequential stuff that shouldn't even be given enough room to breathe.

"Then I would have come over to your apartment and punched him in the face. Repeatedly," Peter replied and tried not to curl his hand into a fist. Part of him regretted that he had never gotten a chance to do that. Sometimes living up to the badge wasn't fun.

As Neal kept reminding him constantly.

"And landed yourself in jail? How would that have helped us?" El wondered.

"Maybe we could have been cellmates," Neal suggested when Peter didn't respond right away. "Then I could have taught you how to properly impress a woman like Elizabeth."

Peter shook his head at that ludicrous idea. "I hate this conversation. Weren't we going to talk about you and not us?"

Neal merely shot him a grin. As usual, he was doing everything he could to avoid talking about Kate or committing to something, even if it was just a simple conversation. Sometimes Peter wondered if the person Neal was actually conning was himself.

Before he could point any of that out to him, Satchmo padded over to them and pushed his nose against El's leg with a little whine.

"What's wrong, Satch? Do you need to go out?" she asked, reaching out to give him a cuddle. He wagged his tail and licked her hands. "It's gotten late. I should go on a quick walk around the block with him," she said to Peter.

"No, it's my turn. I'll take him," he replied.

El narrowed her eyes at him. "You just don't want to help clean up the kitchen."

"Or I don't want you to go out there by yourself this late," Peter corrected her.

"How about you both go walk Satchmo and I clean up the kitchen?" Neal offered.

"No," Peter said without thinking.

"Come on, Peter, you have to trust me enough to leave me alone in the house at some point."

Peter smirked. "Do I? Do I really?"

El rolled her eyes at both of them. "Okay, hon, you can take Satch, but don't forget the new leash I got for him this morning," she said to put an end to this discussion.

"Where is it?"

"I think I left it upstairs. I'll get it for you," El said and got up to go upstairs.

Peter and Neal stood, too, and slowly headed towards the hallway with Satchmo right behind them.

"I guess I should get going then," Neal said. "Thanks for having me over."

"You should thank El. It was her idea," Peter told him. He hadn't been against it, but after dealing with Neal at work all day, Peter usually opted for having his wife to himself when he came home. But he couldn't argue with how this night had turned out.

Neal nodded in understanding. "I will. Maybe I'll be invited back then the next time Elizabeth needs someone with a more refined palate."

Peter decided to ignore that little taunt. "Seemed to me like you never actually needed an invitation," he pointed out instead. Ever since Neal had gotten out of prison, he constantly showed up at their house unannounced.

"It's still nice to get one," he replied with a shrug.

"Well, you have it," Peter told him because it was true. Most of the time, anyway. "As long as you behave yourself. I can and will dust my own house for prints if I have to."

"I absolutely believe that you would," Neal nodded half-seriously and half-mockingly.

"Seriously, Neal, don't mess this up. My wife really likes you, and so does my dog. Don't prove them wrong," Peter said while scratching Satchmo's ears.

"I'm not sure if that's supposed to be encouraging or threatening," Neal frowned.

Peter grinned at him. "Whichever works. All I'm saying is, choose a path and stick to it. Worked wonders for me."

"I can see that," Neal replied when El came back downstairs to give Peter the leash and a kiss.

Peter attached the leash to Satchmo's collar and turned towards the door. "See you tomorrow, Neal," he said before leaving.

Only then did he realize how much he really trusted Neal because there was nothing more important he could have left him alone with than El.

"You're leaving, too?" Elizabeth asked when her husband and dog were out of the door.

"I took up enough of your time tonight. But dinner was fantastic. Thank you so much for having me," Neal said.

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "Uh-huh, so what was that talk about staying to help clean up the kitchen? Was that just another con?"

"Of course not. I don't con people who cooked such a lovely dinner for me," Neal answered smoothly after only a short moment of surprise. "I just figured I wasn't allowed to touch anything with Peter out of the house."

"Why not? Are you planning on stealing our silverware?" Elizabeth joked.

Neal thought about that. "It would be fun to watch Peter try to solve the case of the missing tablespoon."

"You say that now. Wait until you've actually seen him hunt down a chipmunk."

"What?"

Elizabeth laughed at the confused look on his face. "Never mind. It's okay. You don't have to stay and help. I was just kidding."

"No, I'll help!" Neal insisted. "There's nothing waiting for me at home except for Moz drinking his way through my wine cabinet."

"I tried to invite him, too, but he said breaking bread with a suit went against everything he believed in," Elizabeth said with a chuckle while picking up their empty plates and carrying them over to the sink.

"I know. He's special that way. He'll come around," Neal said while collecting their glasses and bringing those.

Elizabeth began to load up the dishwasher and then wash the remaining pots and pans by hand before giving them to Neal to dry them off. She couldn't help smiling to herself the entire time. Right now, he looked nothing like the international word-class thief and forger her husband had been chasing for so long.

"What? Am I doing it wrong?" Neal asked when he noticed her smile.

"I just can't remember how often I did this with Peter standing right there, complaining about something you did or theorizing where you might be and how he was going to catch you. And now you're right here, doing the dishes with me instead," Elizabeth explained. It was completely surreal, but at the same time, she felt like she could have seen this coming.

Neal grinned, but he said, "I feel like I never apologized to you for that."

"For what?" Elizabeth wondered.

"For taking up so much of your husband's time."

"No need. If it hadn't been you, it would have been some other case. It's just who he is, and I always knew that. But I chose to love him then and I choose to love him now," Elizabeth said simply.

Neal smiled at her thoughtfully. "Maybe you should teach a class on how that works for the rest of us mere mortals."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Peter and I are far from perfect. Nothing is ever going to be perfect. But that doesn't mean you can't still make it work. You can choose to love someone, too, Neal."

"Would be nice to get off this anklet first," Neal said, wiggling his foot.

"You will. You just need to have faith in Peter," Elizabeth told him.

It had worked for her, and she knew it would work for Neal. They just needed to stop playing games with each other. For now, they both insisted on always keeping a backdoor open so they could bail out at any time – never mind that this partnership was definitely the best thing that had ever happened to Neal and, on the days when they were trusting each other, was also good for her husband. Elizabeth hoped that getting them to come to the table and share a nice dinner every now and then would help them see that.

"I do," Neal assured her, and Elizabeth really wanted to believe him. "Most days it's fun even with the anklet on. Except for the deviled ham days. In all the years you've known Peter, you couldn't get him to give that up?"

Elizabeth laughed. "That's not how marriage works, Neal. But yes, I hear you."

"Okay, well, other than that, I am grateful I get to work with Peter," Neal nodded. "But I'm afraid I can't promise you that there won't be any more complaining. I seem to bring that out in him."

Elizabeth smiled softly. "Just bring him home safe. That's all I ask."

Neal slowly put down the sauté pan he had been drying off. There was nothing he could say to that. Nothing he could really promise her. Elizabeth knew that. She didn't need him to respond. She just needed him to know that, for her, this was not a game. This was her life. Her husband. And if Neal were to force her to pick sides (as much as Elizabeth wished they could all be on the same side for once), she would always stand with Peter. Fiercely. Unconditionally.

There was a moment of silence when they both acknowledged this. Then Neal asked, "So, who won? Peter or the chipmunk?"

Elizabeth burst out laughing and thought that maybe it wasn't so bad that Neal kept her husband from taking everything too seriously all the time.

They finished the dishes and then Neal excused himself to go to the bathroom. Elizabeth had just made some tea when the back door was opened and Satchmo came padding back into the house. The yellow Lab ran over to her for a cuddle, drank some water from his bowl, and then headed straight for the couch for a nap. He was beginning to get older, too, but his devotion and his love for them was unchanged. He was a Burke through and through.

Elizabeth chuckled and waited for Peter to come back inside as well. When he didn't, she stepped out onto the patio where she found him standing with Satchmo's leash still in his hand, looking up at the stars. Since they had spent all evening talking, she hadn't noticed that it was such a beautiful night.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked after walking over to join him.

"Just wondering how I got so lucky," Peter replied while wrapping an arm around her.

Elizabeth smiled up at him. "Did you find an answer?"

Peter wrapped his other arm around her as well, holding her close. "Nope. Don't need one. Talking to Neal tonight, I realized I can't even remember not loving you," he said as if it was always meant to be that way.

"I think that is your answer, hon," Elizabeth said and stood on her toes to cup her husband's face and kiss him – her senses alive with the taste and feel of him, with the sound of his breathing and the sight of his eyes twinkling.

Which was also a different kind of answer. An answer that reminded them both of all those mornings they had stolen a kiss before running out the door to work, and countless evenings they had spent whispering 'I love you' after finally coming back home. Of the many, many days they had walked through this crazy city together, and just as many nights when they had shared a bed and a life and sometimes loss. Of months and months of holding hands and holding on to each other because they could and because they had chosen to, and through it all, many wonderful years of always calling each other 'mine'.

Saying all that and more, their kiss only ended when Neal stepped out onto the patio.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot you are the kind of couple one can walk in on at any moment," he said, somehow both grimacing and grinning at the same time.

"Neal…" Peter warned him, but he wouldn't let go of Elizabeth, who rested her head on her husband's chest and laughed softly.

Neal held up his hands. "It's a compliment, Peter. You guys… you are really something."