Disclaimer: White Collar and its characters are owned by USA Network and Jeff Eastin, not me. This story, however, is all mine.
A/N: So I've had the idea for this in my head for a while, and I figured that this would be the perfect day to post it. Enjoy, read and review, and Happy Valentine's Day!

And rather use my mouth to kiss your frown away
So your doubts no longer darken your day
So you can hold your head up high come what may
~All The Way /4U ~ Poets of the Fall

A single golden ray forced its way through the window, lightly touching her skin. With a sigh she turned onto her back and slowly opened her eyes to the day. Peter wasn't there. She wasn't expecting him to be- after all, he'd told her that he was close to solving a new case and would probably be going to work and coming home late for the next few days. She'd nodded and smiled and said it was ok, but her heart ached when she realized that that meant she would have to wake up alone on Valentine's Day.

Elizabeth heard a soft clicking on the wood floor and suddenly the mattress sank down at the foot of the bed.

"Morning, Satch," she greeted sleepily as the dog crawled closer to her, nuzzling against her side. She scratched the dog behind the ears and he flicked out his tongue to lick her arm. With a long sigh, Elizabeth pushed herself out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. She went through the motions of such tasks as brushing her teeth and washing her face and only when she finished and decided to take a minute to inspect her reflection in the mirror did she realize the little florescent Post-It note stuck on the glass.

With curiosity tugging at her, she reached out and plucked the bright yellow paper off of the mirror. Written in black ink in Peter's familiar messy scrawl was a short message for her.

Sorry I had to leave early. I'll see you tonight. Love you.

Elizabeth smiled to herself and folded the Post-It and left in on the counter. She turned out of the bathroom and began to make her way downstairs, listening to the jingle of Satchmo's tags and the tip-tapping of his claws as he leaped off the bed to follow her. She went into the kitchen and started to make herself some coffee. She swung open a cabinet door, pulled out a bowl and poured herself some cereal and with her cereal in one hand and her mug of coffee in the other, Elizabeth pushed open the kitchen door with her foot and let herself into the dining room. She set her breakfast down at the table and sat down in front of it. Satchmo circled the room once and then, with a heavy sigh, he laid down at her feet.

The morning was slow and drawn-out. After finishing her breakfast, Elizabeth had washed the dishes that were piled up in the sink from the previous day. She showered, dressed, watch the weather report. She made a few calls to reserve a caterer for one event and venue for another, she called florists for an anniversary party and had to confirm linens for a classy birthday celebration. She considered calling her husband, but figured he might be too busy to answer, so instead she opted to kill time by taking the dog for a walk.

There was a fresh coating of snow on the ground and Elizabeth had to be wary of ice beneath it. White ghosts danced before her, little clouds that swirled from her mouth every time she let out her breath. Gentle breezes brushed past her, tossing her hair this way and that. Satchmo, trotting in front of her, looked as happy as could be with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his tail swishing from side to side.

It felt like a normal day. She was trying to treat it like a normal day. But she knew that it wasn't. It was Valentine's Day and her husband wasn't there to share it with her.

---

"Well?" Neal pressed. Peter rolled his eyes and looked up from the file he was reading.

"Stop," he said firmly, dropping the file onto his desk. "Read."

Neal huffed and opened his mouth to say something else but a sharp glance from Peter made him decide against it. He reached out, slid the file towards himself and started skimming through it. After five minutes, he looked back up, a smile glittering in his eyes.

"So?"

"Did you even read that?"

"Of course!"

"And what do you think?"

"Uh-uh," Neal said, shaking his head. "Not until you let me know what your big plans are."

"My 'big plans' don't concern you," Peter countered. Neal leaned back in his chair, slipping the file off the desk and onto his lap.

"Come on, Peter," he said, almost whining.

"No."

For a few sweet seconds, Neal was silent. And then a smirk crept over his face as he leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk and clasping his hands together. Peter could almost see Neal's thoughts forming in his head.

"No," Peter said again, sharper.

"Peter," Neal said, dragging out the vowels.

"No," the agent repeated.

"Are you not telling me because you don't have a plan?" Peter met Neal's dancing blue eyes and the conman shrugged, leaning back once again. "Just curious."

"I have a plan," Peter said matter-of-factly and Neal just raised his eyebrows. "I do."

---

Elizabeth brought Satchmo back to the house and the dog, happy to be home, did about four laps around the living room before flopping down beside the couch. She laughed and went into the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of water and leaned against the counter. She sipped the water slowly and glanced around her surroundings, noticing something she hadn't before. Another little Post-It note tacked onto the refrigerator. She set her glass down on the counter and peeled the note off of the stainless steel surface.

I'll try to make it home on time. I promise. Love you.

Peter made that promise all the time, and all the time he broke it. Elizabeth's smile was sad as she folded the note and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans. She wanted to believe what was written on the note, she really did, but there was a nagging voice in the back of her head that told her it wasn't true. She sighed and emptied the remainder of water in her glass into the sink and left the glass there.

She saw her car keys on the little hook across the room and thought for a moment. With a mischievous smile dancing across her lips, Elizabeth snatched up the keys and went back into the living room, lifting her coat off of the coat rock and sliding her arms quickly into the sleeves.

"Satchmo," she said and the dog lifted his head. "Come on, boy, wanna go for a ride?"

Satchmo jumped up and raced towards her, jumping up with excitement. Elizabeth laughed and stroked the fur on his head, as she reached with her other arms to grab his leash. She hooked it onto the dog's collar and then told him to wait as she went back into the kitchen to find the small stack of Post-It notes. She scrawled something quickly and before she left the house she attached the note to the front door.

---

Peter had a plan. It wasn't a brilliant plan or anything, nothing like what he sure Neal could come up with if he actually had Kate or some other lucky woman there to celebrate Valentine's Day with him, but it was a still a plan.

He'd left work early, assuring Hughes that they were close to a breakthrough on the case and the other agents were certainly competent enough to finish without him. Hughes had been reluctant, mainly he was wary about having Neal working without Peter there, but Agent Burke had thought ahead and convinced Jones and Cruz to keep an eye on the ex-con. As Peter was putting on his coat and walking to the elevators, he glanced back at his office, where he'd left Neal and saw the younger man glance up from a smile to give him a reassuring wink.

There weren't many people in the stores, but then again it was late afternoon on Valentine's Day so all of the people were probably already with their loved ones. Peter wandered through aisles, eyeing all of the different kinds of candy and stuffed animals decorated with hearts. He grabbed a bag of those classic Sweetheart candies and paid for it quickly so that he could be on his way to his next stop.

The florist was a little busier, crowded with husbands and boyfriends looking uncomfortable as they tried to pick out the best flowers for their significant others. Peter smiled to the young girl at the register and told her he was there to pick up a dozen roses he ordered the day before. When he got the bouquet into the car it made his Taurus smell like a field of flowers, and there was something about that sweet smell that made him unable to quit smiling.

There was a note on the door when he got home, a florescent yellow Post-It like the ones he'd left Elizabeth that morning. In her neat, loopy handwriting she'd left him a short and simple message.

Went out, took the dog with me. See you when I get home. PS- Love you, too.

Peter smiled when he tucked the note into his pocket and let himself into the house.

---

She'd let Satchmo run out of the car without putting his leash back on him and he bounded up the front steps and barked once, turning to look back at her with a wag of his tail.

"I'm coming, Satch," Elizabeth assured. Satchmo danced from paw to paw as she searched for her keys. She found them and went to fit the house key into the lock she noticed that the note she left there hours earlier was gone. She smiled and glanced down at the labrador. "You think Peter's home, Satchmo?"

Satchmo whined a little at the sound of Peter's name and Elizabeth let herself and her dog into the house. Satchmo sprinted inside and started to sniff around, looking for Peter. Elizabeth set her purse and shopping bags down on the coach so that she could shrug out of her coat and hang it up beside her husband's.

"Peter," she called, but there was no answer. The lights in the dining room were off and when she moved closer she saw something on the table. "Peter, I'm home," she called again, but she still received no response. She stood beside the table and looked down. There was a bouquet of red roses almost smiling up her, and beside the flowers lay an open bag of Sweethearts. Upon closer examination Elizabeth noticed that some of the Sweethearts had either fallen or been taken out of the bag that once housed them. They were laying in front of the roses, spelling out a message.

Be mine. Forever.

"Happy Valentine's Day." She whipped around at Peter's voice. He was coming from the kitchen, a taper candle in each hand, and a warm smile gracing his lips.

"You, too," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and greeting him with a soft kiss. They pulled apart and Peter set the candles into the two candle holders that often sat unused on the table. He produced a lighter from the pocket of jeans and set the wicks on fire. "The flowers are beautiful," Elizabeth commented and Peter straightened up and swept her into his arms.

"So are you," he said before leaning in for a kiss. Glancing over her shoulder he noticed the bags she'd left on the couch. "So where'd you go?"

Elizabeth slipped out of his arms with a sly smile and walked backwards toward the couch. She reached down into a brown bag and out of it came a bottle of wine. Peter smiled, reading the label as Elizabeth drew closer to him and recognizing it as one of Neal's recommended favorites. Elizabeth placed the bottle on the table.

"I should go start dinner, huh?" she said and Peter shook his head.

"No need," he said and his wife furrowed her brow. "I started already."

"You…" Elizabeth looked at the door to the kitchen and then back to Peter. "You're cooking?"

"Don't look so surprised," Peter said, pushing open the kitchen door and stepping inside, Elizabeth close behind him.

"You aren't going to burn down the house, are you? Because that would make a great stupid husband story, but it would also make for a really, really bad Valentine's Day."

"Elizabeth Burke," Peter said, feigned offense dripping from the words, "I can't believe you'd even think that."

"Sorry," she said, snaking her arms around his waist. "But honestly, Peter, do you even know what you're doing?"

"Well," Peter said, and Elizabeth shook her head before he could say another word.

"I'll just take it from here," she said.

"Sounds good."

And a couple of hours later, after a candlelight dinner and a few glasses of wine, the two found themselves settled in bed, their breathing just evening out as the stars winked at them through the window. Elizabeth, lying on her side, felt the mattress shift beneath her as Peter rolled over, too, and gently placed a hand on her side. She closed her eyes as he kissed her neck.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair and she reached up to touch his head, combing her fingers through his hair.

"I love you, too."

For the first time in what felt like many long months, the Burkes fell asleep in each others arms. And in the morning, when that first golden ray of sunlight poked its head into the room, it had two people to touch with its warmth instead of just one.