Elizabeth Burke and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

El is having a very bad day, and Peter is determined to change that.

"It's quiet down here."

El jumped at the sound of Peter's voice, jolting from her intense stare where it had settled on the intense amount of paperwork on her desk. The surprise took her breath for a moment, leaving her startled and simultaneously relieved at the interruption. Being in the midst of mountains of legalese chatter dealing with an injury during one of her parties – one she was not responsible for – a moment's distraction served her well. That distraction being Peter, she certainly wasn't bothered by it.

She exhaled, glancing up at him. "I noticed," she replied matter-of-factly. She didn't mean to come off abrasive at all, but in her stress, she gave Peter pause with her response. He didn't take it to heart, however, as he knew what kind of pressure she was under, whether she expressed it or not. He wouldn't have come downstairs without expecting a little edginess.

But because of his innate ability to sense when she was flustered and know when to step in, he set her curtness aside and focused on keeping her talking and not working. He didn't like when she immersed herself so deeply in things that he knew drove her crazy; which was why he was bent on initiating her break. This reasoning pushed him to speak again.

"What hoops do they have you jumping through today?" he asked as he approached her from behind. He set his hands on the back of her chair and leaned forward to get a glimpse of the papers she slaved over. "Who's trying to press charges?"

El picked up the papers and straightened them out while explaining, "Natasha Murray. She thinks she's the queen of New York," she sighed, flipping through the pages. "It only took me two pages to figure out that she is."

He inhaled, processing this information, and began playing with her hair idly as he considered how to work with that. Once he'd twisted a curl completely around his finger, he questioned, "What's she pressing for?"

She seemed to enjoy his comforting hands and turned a bit to look up at him. "Her kid was playing on one of those bounce-houses – the one where you're strapped into a bungee cord and race for the flag before it snaps you back."

Peter nodded to signal his understanding, so she continued. "Well, halfway through the race, he decided he was too cool for his helmet and took it off. About a minute later, he had a concussion..." She leaned forward and rested her elbow on the desk, head falling into her hand. "And I had a lawsuit."

"You can't be blamed for that," Peter pointed out, releasing her hair so he could get a closer look at the papers before her.

This didn't seem to comfort El. "Doesn't matter," she countered, closing her eyes at the onset of a headache. "I have to spend my weekend sorting this out with Murray, which means I'll end up delegating this Sunday's luncheon to Yvonne, and it'll be a miracle if she doesn't screw that up..."

"Honey," he stopped her gently, setting his hands on her shoulders. She was getting tense, and he couldn't let that happen. He could count on his hand the times she'd overworked herself to an extent of a breakdown, and he didn't want to add one to the list. He could make this better.

So, he began to massage her shoulders as he spoke, his voice quiet and soothing. "It's going to be okay..." he breathed, cautious in his words. "Let's put this in perspective: she can bury you sky-high in pesky papers, but she doesn't have anything to excuse the fact that her kid neglected the safety instructions. You're going to come away from this without a scratch, and when you do, we'll have our own little celebration."

El was intrigued, but not appeased. "Honey, I'm going to have to spend all night on this, and the rest of the weekend; after that, I'll have to catch up on everything else. Celebration won't be in the schedule for at least a week."

He shook his head and continued to rub her shoulders slowly, not wanting her to be upset by this. "We'll make time," he reasoned. He reached around her shoulders and picked up her stack of work, confiscating it. "Like we will right now."

She instantly turned to face him, eyes widening. "What are you doing? I need those!"

He took them anyway, and stuffed them in one of her drawers without thought. "No, what you need is a good ending to a bad day."

El straightened up and fell into the back of her chair with a sigh. "And how do I go about getting one of those?" she mumbled into her hands.

Peter feigned a smile. "I'll tell you how."

Suddenly, his arms appeared around her, and his chin rested on her shoulder. "First, I'm going to wrap my arms around you."

She huffed. "Peter-"

"Then," he continued as his hands echoed his words. "I'm going to hold your hands." He then grabbed her hands gently and removed them from her face, instead placing them in her lap.

She felt a smile coming on, but ignored it and squeezed his hands. "Not right now..."

"I'm not finished, yet," he replied playfully, tightening his arms around her. "Now, I'm going to kiss your cheek, like this." And he did kiss her cheek, forcing an subconscious smile on her face. "And then I'm going to do it again, because the first time wasn't nearly good enough."

El accidentally let a giggle escape when he kissed her cheek again, this time more slowly. "You know, I don't sabotage your work like this!"

"Well, that's because I'm a very bad influence," he informed her, playing with her fingers. "And now, I'm going to pull you out of your chair. Don't try to resist."

"Can we say I did?" El asked teasingly, standing up to relieve his arm of its tugging duty.

He chuckled. "Yeah, we can say you tried really hard," he agreed, looping his arms around her waist.

She smiled in amusement, and loosely wrapped her arms around his neck. "But you're just so stubborn."

"Mhmm," he hummed, leaning closer.

"And so intrusive," she added, rising up on her toes as she spoke.

"Of course," he said, nodding.

El peered up at him, humor dancing in her blue eyes. "Who could work under such impossible conditions?"

"No one I know," he pointed out, helping her through her self-convincing process.

Their banter seemingly complete then, he realized just how close he was to her lips. He hesitated for a moment, eager to finish off their game, before speaking again.

"Do you know what I'm going to do next?"

El bit her lip and shook her head. "No clue."

Don't let her fool you, however. She did have a pretty good idea of what was coming next.

I just wrote this a week back and thought it was cute, so I posted it. If you noticed that Elizabeth is solely referred to as El in this story, rather than Elizabeth occasionally as in my other stories, it's because this story is from Peter's eyes, and she's really just his El, not Elizabeth Burke. This isn't an objectively-viewed story, but a personal view from the two of them. That's why I like it.

Well, don't be a stranger. Leave a review, favorite, or whatever. Mainly just leave a review. It keeps me going :)

* *-TheSongbird341-* *

DISCLAIMER: I don't own White Collar, Peter (sigh), or Elizabeth. But you knew that.