Peter never considered himself a selfish person. He always put justice above all else, even himself. But at that moment he realized just how selfish he really was.

Earlier that day he had an out of the blue interaction with Sterling-Bosch and suddenly remembered the fiery young woman who had helped him multiple times in the past. Sara Ellis, insurance investigator. Neal's ex-lover. The woman who did not know yet that he had died.

Thoughts of Neal overwhelmed Peter once again. Although it had been several months since he passed, Peter's heart still ached in thought of his old friend. Of course, there had been many times where Neal had lied to him and betrayed him, but his intentions were good (usually). They were partners and friends… and that was when Peter decided to shake his head. No need to relive the past. Neal had a good run and his only regret was that Neal didn't know freedom before he-

Peter grabbed his phone and clumsily put his passcode in to unlock it. Sara had moved to London several years ago, but he was so sure he still had her number.

He found the number beginning in 011 and dialed it.

...

Sara Ellis was having a blast. She loved London. There was something about the historic buildings, the tube and the chatter of people walking by that reminded her of New York. But the gardens and accents never failed to put her in a good mood. She had excelled here in London. She had been promoted and was doing rather well for herself.

It was raining that day. She held a black umbrella against a sea of more black umbrellas and finally slipped into her apartment (sorry, flat) building. As she struggled to find her keys in her purse, she almost tripped over a rather disheveled looking Neal Caffrey sitting in front of her door.

There was a moment after Neal picked himself up from the floor where they stared at each other, stunned in silence.

"What are you doing here?" She hadn't even thought before the words came spilling out her mouth. She was happy. Oh she was almost giddy seeing Neal in front of her.

He smiled his crooked smile, "Long story, will you let me in?"

"Oh Mr. Caffrey, you and I both know that you could have easily gotten in." She tried to contain her smile as she put the key in behind him.

"It's always nicer to be invited." He followed her into her apartment, littered with photos in frames, but otherwise spotless. "Cosy."

She dropped her bag on the counter and put her hand to her hip, "So Neal, you gonna tell me what you're doing here?"

Neal had pondered over this for a while, on the flight over. Should he tell her the truth? Would she hate him? Would this cement the idea that he was a criminal, never to be trusted?

But he trusted her and all that pondering came to the conclusion that she cared about him and would help.

So he told her.

...

Obviously Sara had been shocked, and that shock turned into anger which then turned into exhaustion. Several weeks had passed by and that exhaustion turned into exasperation. She understood, she really did.

Not the faking his death part. That was a bit extreme. But she understood that he meant to help people and that he thought he was doing the right thing.

Neal had stayed with her that night. And the night after that. And after that. And soon he had made the couch his own and would cook breakfast in the mornings. He would go out into the city while she went to work and would sketch and meander and somehow got a job as an art authenticator (she didn't ask how, she could put the pieces together herself).

Soon they fell back into their old ways. The love story that is Neal and Sara didn't end well last time, and now there was nothing in their way. Because this time it was a another time, and it certainly was a another place.

And it was another us. Another them. Neal was… calmer, more content in his ways. He certainly wasn't leaning back into his old criminal tendencies (he had to keep this alias clean), and Sara was more carefree, she laughed easier. Life wasn't a struggle, they were just… happy.

Neal would sometimes get nightmares, and think about Mozzie and Peter and June and everyone else he left behind. He'd tell them some day. But he wasn't ready yet and neither were they. Sara would wrap her arms around him and they'd both fall back asleep.

It became normal. Until the phone call.

...

Peter's heart drummed as he waited for Sara to pick up the call. Should he leave a message? Is this something he could even say in a voicemail?

But then she picked up, "Hello?"

"Um… Hi Sara… it's Peter." He was nervous goddammit. He had to give this news to so many people and it never got any easier.

"Hi Peter," Her voice sounded very collected and his heart sank. He couldn't. He just couldn't. "Peter? Are you still there?"

"Yes, sorry, I just wanted to… check in with you. How's London?"

There was a slight pause, Peter grimaced as he held the phone to his ear. Finally Sara responded, "Peter, I moved here two years ago and this is the first time you've called. Just get to the point."

Damn damn damn, he hadn't thought this out. It's better if she didn't know, in fact, she could live her entire life without knowing. She didn't have to know. Ignorance is bliss and all that.

"Peter, if you don't tell me what's going on, you know I'm just going to call Neal and ask him." Well, now, he supposed he would have to tell her.

"Sara, it's actually about Neal." He sighed.

"What about him?" It was strange. He detected innocence rather than concern but pushed the thought aside. Sara wasn't conning him.

"He's dead." He heard her gasp. "He was shot during an investigation."

Once again there was silence, he heard some shifting and a murmuring noise. Was someone with her? But the thought vanished when she responded, her voice cracking, she immediately asked how everyone was handling it. She didn't accept the response "Fine" and asked more specifically about how much Mozzie was drinking and if June still went to the country club every week.

Peter could not answer either which left her disappointed. But she seemed to handle it well. They finally hung up and Peter let out a breath. Hopefully that was the last time he had to do that.

...

Truth be told, they were expecting the phone call. In fact they were expecting it a lot sooner. Sara was actually quite insulted that Peter hadn't called her within the first week and Neal laughed at her when she pouted about it afterward.

It was good to hear Peter's voice. Neal thought Sara's acting was very artificial, which he told her. She gave him the stink eye.

Throughout the phone call Sara had been walking around the apartment, the phone on speaker, with Neal following her around, nudging her and mouthing: "What about Mozzie?" and an endless amount of other questions, which Sara hoped that she asked organically enough.

Not that her asking was useful in anyway. It seemed that without Neal there, Peter made no attempt to look after Mozzie or June and see what they were up to.

"So now what?" Sara asked, breaking Neal out of his thoughts.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "I don't know. I was going to tell them all one day. I left some clues too but…" Neal trailed off. Everything was in that storage box and Peter had the key. He wished he could tell Peter the truth, but that was a little difficult. He couldn't go back to New York. He couldn't just pick up the phone. They'd have to meet somewhere abroad, by accident with minimal communication.

His thoughts went back to one day when he was flipping through a newspaper and came across an article that the Louvre was hiring more security. Truth be told that was his initial plan. He was going to continue conning and thieving but… he was happy here with Sara. Sure he pulled a con here and there (nothing too big) but, he was mostly on the straight and narrow now.

Sara watched his face, trying to get any clues as to what he was thinking. He gave her a reassuring smile and kissed her nose which made her grin. Suddenly, Neal's furrowed brows popped up, as if he just had an epiphany.

"Sara, I want to see Peter again."

"Um, okay?" She asked, a little confused by where he was going. "Are you sure that's a good idea? And how are you going to see him in New York? You're dead."

But, obviously, Neal already had that figured out. He flashed her a smile, "So, I've heard Paris is beautiful this time of year."