This is the first of a planned series of post-scripts to various White Collar episodes. I hope you enjoy.

It was midnight in the Burke household. Two people leaned up against the couch in the living room, sitting on the floor in the dim light of a dying fire. On the coffee table in front of them sat a wine glass, half empty, and a bottle of beer, half full. It was quiet for a long moment.

"Then what happened?"

The man's head turned slightly to look at her. "You sure?"

The woman picked up her wine glass and ran her finger around the edge. "I'm sure," she said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

He picked up his beer and took a long sip. "Okay." Shifting only slightly, imperceptibly moving his free arm that rested on the sofa closer to her shoulders, he went on. "I finally got the cuff open. Then it was just a matter of getting him close enough to do something. I- well, I got him to stick his arm between the bars –"

"Peter." Her eyes, dark in the dim light, looked at him searchingly. "Just tell me."

Her husband sighed, sipped again. "Fine. I basically told him he was such a bad shot that he couldn't hit a stationary target from three feet away." He looked toward the fireplace, practically down to embers now, and managed a smirk. "He reached in and took aim - I could see he was trying to figure out where to hit me – and the moment his eyes shifted I just jumped forward, grabbed his arm and yanked as hard as I could. Slammed his face into the bars." He drank again, shook his head. "I got lucky. It took him right out."

For a few moments it was quiet again, as he was lost in thought, remembering the events of the afternoon. A soft sound caught his attention, and he turned to look at his wife.

The sky outside had cleared, and the moon shone softly through the window. It illuminated a tear sliding down Elizabeth's cheek. Peter dropped his arm around her and rubbed her shoulder with a whisper. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Don't be. You know the rules." She wiped at her cheek quickly.

"I do. And I love you." He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "So much."

Ever since they had met, ever since Elizabeth realized that the man she loved put himself in harm's way on an almost daily basis, they had created the rules. She never suggested that he should stop doing his job, as long as he was honest in recounting whatever had happened if there was a 'situation'. Her imagination was able to conjure up images that were worse than anything that actually transpired, so she insisted on the truth. For Peter, knowing that he could tell her anything, absolutely anything, and have her calmly react, knowing that whatever happened, he was okay now – made all the difference in the world. Wrapping his arms around her he held her close. It made him feel so helpless. Rarely did Elizabeth cry – and more often in frustration than in sadness. She was his rock, his stability… and he had learned over the years that when she honored him by leaning on him, all he had to do was be there. He rubbed her back as she wept quietly into his shoulder, feeling her cling to him gratefully.

After a while she stopped, sniffed, and took a few deep breaths as she slowly pulled away. He smiled at her strength in the darkness, and kissed her forehead gently. Her head dropped for a moment, and she laughed quietly.

"What?"

"You're going to make me cry again."

"By kissing your head?"

She pulled herself together, took a sip of wine, and looked up into his deep, concerned eyes with a smile. "Mozzie did that when he came to the house." Peter frowned, confused, and tilted his head.

"He kissed your head?"

"He came over to make sure I was okay." She sipped again, looking into the fireplace. "I guess he could tell I was upset."

Peter felt a wave of emotion come over him. El, his rock, upset enough at his situation that someone else could see it… He felt guilty, but at the same time –

"I have to tell you, Peter. I know you might not like it… but it makes such a difference to me to know that people like Neal and Mozzie are on your side. On our side. I know the team at the office will do anything they can for you… but Neal and Mozzie will do things that no one can do. I feel… safer. Like I have allies who are willing put your safety first." She inhaled deeply and smiled at him fondly. "Like I would. I can't tell you how much of a difference it makes."

Peter stared into the distance for a few moments, thinking about what she said. He took one last drink, and his bottle tapped hollowly on the table. "El, I don't know what to think, sometimes. After the debriefing today, Diana passed the word to me from the Scottish Royal Museum. You know the ring that Neal gave them for me?"

"Yes?"

"It's worth over two and a half million. Two and a half million! And he gave it up, just like that…"

Elizabeth blinked in amazement, then curled into his arms again. "We are so lucky to have them… who would have thought…"

"I know." He looked at her, leaned over to kiss her. "I'm so lucky to have you."

The last embers of the fire stirred for a moment before fading slowly into the darkness. On the floor, in front of the couch, two people found each other in the soft moonlight, holding one another as if they would never let go.

oOo

oOoOo

oOo

The partners stood in line at the coffee shop, and Neal leaned over impatiently to see how long the line ahead was. He looked down at his watch, then at his hands, and frowned. "Hey – I'm just going to wash my hands. I have ink all over me from those files we looked at."

"Fine with me," Peter responded. Neal was about to walk away when Peter grabbed his arm. "Oh, Neal – my battery is dead. Can I use your phone to call Elizabeth?"

The younger man reached into his pocket instantly. "Sure. Tell her I said 'hi'."

"Will do." The agent watched Neal walk into the men's room before taking a breath. He mumbled to himself, "I have no reason to feel guilty." Then he shook his head with a resigned grin. Considering he tracked everything he could about this man for four years, you wouldn't think that this would bother him so much. Yeah, but he wasn't your partner then…

Peter stared at the phone in his hand for a moment before flipping it open. Checking through the contacts, he didn't see anything familiar… which shouldn't have surprised him. He tapped the speed dial for one, and saw his own house number come up. He snorted a laugh in spite of himself. Two came up as his cell phone, and three… well, three was unfamiliar. "Okay…" He punched three and waited, a bit nervously.

The phone rang twice before it picked up. A familiar voice said, "Neal?"

Relief came through in the agent's response. "No, Moz, this is Peter."

There was a pointed pause. "Since I'm sure I'd feel a disturbance in the force if he was dead - and you don't really sound worried - I have to assume you stole Neal's phone?"

The agent laughed. "Not exactly stole. Let's say 'borrowed', with every intention of returning. I'd like to meet with you, and I didn't have your number. Can we meet at my house… say… three-thirty?"

"Hang on. Is Neal okay?"

"He's fine. I just want to talk to you. In person. Privately. They're sending me home early after all the excitement yesterday, and El's got an appointment with a client."

Another long pause ensued. "Alright, Suit, I don't know what you're up to, but I'll be there."

"Thanks." Peter was surprised. He thought it would take a lot more than that to convince the brilliant but paranoid Moz. Luckily, he looked up in time to see Neal just steps away. "See you later, Hon." He snapped the phone shut and handed it back to his partner. "Appreciate it."

"No problem," Neal answered, his blue eyes smiling brightly. They stepped forward and ordered their lunch.

oOo

At precisely three-thirty, Peter heard a quiet knock at the back door, but when he opened it, there was no one there. First he frowned, then grinned as Satchmo ran out to greet their guest. Mozzie was sitting out on the patio in the afternoon sun, drumming his fingers on the table. "Okay, Hon. What's going on?"

The agent shook his head, trying to figure out how to put the little man at ease. "Hey, Moz. You want some coffee? Tea? …anything?" He looked so uncomfortable that it was Mozzie's turn to frown.

"What's going on?" His eyes widened behind his glasses. "Is Elizabeth okay?"

Peter sighed. "She's fine. She's better than fine. And… well. That's why I asked you here." Moz stared, but said nothing. Peter gave up and sat down next to him at the table. "Mozzie – Elizabeth told me what you did yesterday."

The words came spilling out so quickly that they must have been rehearsed. "Completely legal to own government surplus equipment, and use it in your own home –"

"Moz! I'm not – I didn't ask you here to – damn. Why do you and Neal have to be so difficult to appreciate?"

The little man's head turned slowly as he regarded the FBI agent. "I'm listening."

Peter nearly laughed, then waited a moment, organizing his thoughts. When he did speak, it was in a quiet, almost vulnerable way. "Listen, Moz. I asked you here to thank you. I know what Neal did for me yesterday, and I'm grateful – but I'm just as grateful to you. You were there for the person who's always there for me… but she can't come busting through the door with the cavalry in tow. She just had to wait, and she was scared, and you helped her. You made it easier for her. I… I can't tell you how much that means to me." The man's eyes were wet when he finished, and he rose from the table, standing with his back to Moz as he brusquely rubbed his hands over his face. "I just wanted you to know. And I wanted to say thanks. In person."

Moz gave him a minute before standing to speak just as quietly. "Listen, Suit – if I could clone your wife, and then somehow convince the clone to care about me the way Elizabeth does about you… well. I'd do it in a hot minute. She's easily the most nonjudgmental, supportive person I've ever met. I hope you appreciate what you've got."

Peter turned around. "I do. I really do."

"Good."

The agent extended his hand and Moz regarded it for a moment before shaking it.

"Thank you, Moz. You're a good man."

The little man grinned. "You're welcome. Peter." A robin who had taken up residence in the maple behind the house took that moment to start singing, and the men both looked up, welcoming the distraction. "I believe I'll be going now, Suit."

"I understand. Thanks for coming by." As they waited for the dog to come through the door, Peter added, "This has been quite a week. I was amazed that Neal gave up that ring. Two and a half million. Unbelievable."

Moz stared at him. "You know it was worth a lot more than that."

The agent shrugged, "Well, two and a half, two and three quarters… at that level the numbers stop meaning much." He began to turn to walk into the house, and felt Moz's hand on his arm.

"Suit… that ring…"

"Yeah?"

The little man sighed. "It was going to be Kate's engagement ring. He's been holding on to it, just in case."

Peter's eyebrows lifted for a moment, then his face fell. "Oh, no…" he shook his head. "Are you sure?"

"Would Neal hang on to a ring like that for any other reason? If it was worth that much?"

"Oh… " Stunned, the agent blinked back to the present and nodded at Moz. "Thanks for telling me. I promise, Moz, I'll make sure he knows how much I appreciate what he's done."

"I believe you will." Mozzie was walking down the path when Peter called after him.

"Hey." The little man turned back and waited. "What do you think, Moz? Do you think she would have said 'yes'?"

Their eyes locked thoughtfully for a long moment before Mozzie shrugged, turned, and walked away into the warm, bright afternoon.

oOo

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