Shaggy C.I. - Chapter 7
Peter had been surprised to find his partner, who’d been close to death just days ago, in his home. Not only that, the young man had climbed up the drain pipe outside and tried to help his wife. He still didn’t understand how the young man had gotten there in his current state or why. The thought filled his mind as he tried to think of anything but what had happened to him. It had been a close call. Andy had left him on the floor to bleed, the knife stuck deeply through his shoulder into the floor pinning him like a bug in a collection. The goon was eating food when both men heard loud noises from upstairs. This didn’t sound like someone assaulting his wife but a full fight. Robbie was screaming for Andy to help him which confused Peter in his barely conscious state but somewhere in the back of his mind he pictured his wife kicking the man where it counted and being safe. It reassured him some that the man was in pain for what they were doing to them.
“Dammit... what the hell is your wife doing to my friend?”
Andy kicked him hard, twisting the knife in his shoulder before pulling it out and holding it to his throat. The man straddled him again, holding him securely.
“Hell with this!”
Peter saw the goon hold the knife up over his throat dangerously.
“I’ll go take care of the hell cat myself. Tell her you’re dead. That might make her give in.”
He wanted to struggle but blood loss made him weak and his body was half asleep from the position he was stuck in on the floor. Peter waited for death, hoping for a miracle when the sound of cars coming up and loud footsteps seemed to surround them. The back door flew open.
“FBI!”
Peter was starting to fade but a smile crept onto his taped lips as he felt his eyes begin to close. Andy’s weight was moved from his body and he though he felt hands gently hold him, someone cutting at his bonds till his numb limps began to tingle and come to life again. The tape was gently removed from his mouth and rags pulled out till he could breath a bit normally.
“Peter... hey, boss!”
He fought for consciousness at the familiar voice and gazed up finally at a dark yet blurry face. Slowly Agent Clinton Jones came into view, two other agents nearby, cuffing Andy. He smiled drunkenly up at his colleague, head spinning some as he tried to think where and what.
“Jo... nnnesss?”
The man nodded, motioning for someone to help him as they lifted him up carefully. Peter winced, groaning in pain as his shoulder moved, He felt something tied around the wound, pressure held on it to stop the bleeding as another agent called for an ambulance. He was sat up against the wall as Jones stayed protectively beside him. Peter looked upwards at the sound of people speaking loudly and moving around. He thought about Elizabeth.
“Diana’s up there with some agents. She’ll be ok.”
Peter nodded tiredly before slowly passing out to blissful unconsciousness. His body healed and rested, voices talking near and around him till they seemed to blur into one before he finally woke. A hint of early morning sunlight peeked over him and he found himself asleep on their sofa. There was an IV stuck into his right arm on a small pole with what appeared to be blood while his left arm was bandaged and in a sling. He wasn’t sure how he got there or why he had a bag of blood attached to his arm till he saw Jones slumped in a chair near the kitchen, a cup of what he thought could be coffee near him on the table. He heard voices from the kitchen and saw Diana and El walk out.
“I think he’s has a good nap. I need to go let Christie know what’s going on and sleep a bit before I come back. Jones... wake up!”
The agent was being playful, poking her colleague in the ribs till he jerked awake.
“I’m up... can’t a man have a nap?”
Clinton smirked up at his fellow agent, nobody aware Peter was watching as Jones stretched and yawned.
“I’ll be back at lunch to replace you. Agent Jerrod is outside in an unmarked vehicle. I’ll see you all later. Let me know how Peter is, Elizabeth.”
The two women hugged briefly as Peter closed his eyes, feigning unconsciousness when they passed by. He heard the door open and their voices speaking softly till footsteps faded down the steps and away and then the door shut again. His wife sighed, moving towards him he thought as he felt a soft hand grasp his. He squeezed back.
“Peter?”
He peeked out one eye and nodded guiltily. El noticed immediately as he attempted to sit up with the IV attached. She helped to fluff up the cushions and pillows to make him more comfy as they spoke.
“So how long have you been awake? Feeling better?”
Peter nodded, shrugging some and regretting it as his shoulder pulled. El soothed him as best she could.
“Doctor left you some pills for the pain once you woke up. I’ll make you something to eat so you can take them.”
He squeezed her hand with his good one, the left one wrapped and in a sling.
“Stay with me a bit.”
She nodded their unspoken words louder than he imagined. El blushed some as if embarrassed and he felt a flush to his cheeks at having been unable to help her in her time of need. El leaned over and kissed him, Peter reciprocating as she curled up next to him.
“I’m just glad you’re ok, hon. Neal flew through the bedroom window and distracted them while Satchmo was heroic. Diana wants to get him his own badge for his collar.”
Peter smiled as her face lit up at the fact. She seemed ok but now was not the time to dwell on things. All in good time as they healed and grew stronger from what happened. He looked upwards and she knew what he was thinking.
“He's sleeping like you should be. Rest and I’ll make you something to eat your pill with ok? I need to go check on Neal.”
She hugged him carefully and kissed him again before getting up, their hands holding till it was just fingertips and El blew him another kiss he pretended to catch as she vanished up to the next floor. He sighed with a combination of exhaustion and frustration. He was worried about her. He was hurt and so was Neal. El wasn’t getting her time to grieve and deal with what had happened. He wasn’t sure what had occurred (although he could guess) while he was trapped downstairs. He knew nobody had touched her but still the trauma had to be there. Peter was scared to think what could have happened but it didn’t and yet...
“Boss... I’m just going to run upstairs for a moment. Will you be ok?”
Peter fell out of his reverie a moment nodding at his colleague as he watched Jones tiptoe quietly upstairs and vanish like his wife did. He looked at his left arm as he attempts to sit up with a quiet wince, using the IV pole with the bag of blood attached as a means to stand. Peter staggers a bit managing not to fall as he heads towards the stairs. It seems like a mountain to him but he can do this if he’s cautious and careful. His legs are like jelly but he manages to make it up the first two steps, then the next three and finally to the top. He feels like he just scaled Everest but he’s up here now and the door to the guest room lies slightly ajar as he moves closer. He hears a soft snuffling sound and sees Satchmo. The dog bumps his leg in greeting before moving towards the stairs with a limp of his own and disappears. Peter doesn’t see Elizabeth or Jones so he enters the room.
He’s remembering all of this as he reenters the same room the day after everything happened. He hadn’t been conscious to thank his friend and partner. Neal had helped to save his wife from a fate that would have made Peter reconsider his stance on justice. He walks in seeing Neal holding a spoon to his lips, pausing when he sees the agent. He looks to be frozen with surprise, finishing the bit of soup before he speaks.
“Peter... El said you were sleeping.”
The agent hobbles over and takes the chair El had pulled up and sits gratefully. This time he didn’t have to go up the stairs but he’s still exhausted regardless as he feels a burn in his shoulder.
“I was. Just wanted to see how you were doing. Is that chicken soup?”
He takes a long whiff of the aroma and knows it’s his wife’s recipe. Neal notices and smiles.
“Yeah. I figured out the secret of her recipe...”
He watches Neal take another sip of the soup from the small metal spoon and grin. Peter doesn’t even know what she puts in it, curiosity winning him over.
“Really? Mind sharing so we can compare notes?”
Neal looks up at him over another spoonful of soup and shakes his head as he slurps it up.
“Use your detecting skills, Peter. You knew my shoe size when you chased me but you can’t figure out what your wife puts in her soup? Tsk Tsk...”
Neal's having fun with him as Peter smirks back.
“I wonder if a few hours in pri... Hey honey.”
He saw Neal looking up and behind him as he turned to find Elizabeth standing there. She has another tray in her hands of what looks and smells like the same soup. She's also brought crackers along with a large glass of juice and water.
“This is where you went. Wondered how you got out of our bedroom. Diana’s going to relieve Jones soon so I’m working on lunch but here is your soup, dear. I’ll put it on the folding table over here for you.”
She puts the tray on the dresser while she grabbed up a small folding tray type table and moved it to where he was sitting. El places his bowl and drinks there. She took a few of the crackers and put them on Neal’s tray.
“I had forgotten I had these so I brought some up for both of you.”
She pulled up a small stool and sat with them as they talked about this and that. When Peter had finished his soup, El took him back to the bedroom and settled him in while she took his tray and Diana came up and helped with Neal’s. Peter wanted his wife to return, her light steps obvious as she came back to find him watching a game on TV. He turned it off as she closed the door and scooted in next to him on the bed. He wrapped his good arm around her shoulders, her head leaning on his chest as they nestled. He kissed the top of her head, the scent of her hair filling his nose and making him smile.
“You didn’t have to turn the game off because of me. Who was winning?”
He knew she tended to liked sports but it was more because of him than a real enjoyment of it. Peter shrugged.
“Was waiting for you to come back so I wasn’t really paying attention. Diana have any news?”
He felt her shrug back.
“No. The window people called. They can’t come till tomorrow. There’s been a delay so hoping it won’t rain.”
They were quiet a moment and he thought maybe she had fallen asleep when he sensed Elizabeth was trembling. Her breath was hot against his shoulder and suddenly he realized she was crying.
“El? Honey what’s wrong?”
Peter gently moved her face closer to his and kissed her forehead as he saw the tears in her blue eyes. Her eyes were pink rimmed and cheek flush as she wiped at her eyes and continued to just look at him. Finally one of her hands reached up to touch his cheek.
“You were so pale... I was afraid... but you’re ok. We’re all ok. Even Satchmo.”
Her voice trailed off and she moved a bit closer to him, head laying on his chest as if listening to his heart. He knew she was afraid and he had hoped to ask her about things. Peter was terrible at dealing but this was his wife and he had to make sure she was ok.
“Did those men... I mean... They’re never going to see the light of day, El. It’s already in writing they won’t have a chance to get away ever again. I promise.”
She looked back up at him, sniffling some before nodding at him.
“No... Satchmo helped free me. I tied the first one up but I was so scared. He was going to hurt Satchmo so I hit him with that statue you hate.”
He blinked at her then laughed, her face uncertain how to take it before she finally smiled some, wiping at her nose and laughing too.
“Silly right? But yes... I knocked him out and Satchmo was my helper.”
He hugged her closer and they cuddled for a bit longer till Elizabeth sat up and gently pulled away, but not before giving him a long kiss.
“Let me just go check on Neal and Diana. I’ll be back.”
Peter nodded as he watched his wife leave the room and he slumped back against the mattress. Elizabeth was a strong woman and this proved it. If it took a bit he would find out how she felt and make it all better. He wanted her to be happy and that was all he needed. The thought contented him as he turned the TV back on and finished watching the
game.
()()()
A few months passed and both Peter and Neal were back in the office. They no longer had a guard on them but there was still a faint feeling of uncertainty that D’Arco would try something else. Most of his main men were behind bars or in the case of Pavetti back inside. Peter made it a habit of calling his wife randomly throughout the day and she him as they checked on the other without saying so. It was nice to be in touch more than they already were and El always seemed happy to hear his voice.
“So how is Neal?”
He turned to look through the glass wall of his office towards a certain familiar figure hunch over something on their desk by the door. Neal looked intent on whatever he was doing which appeared to be work for once. Peter grinned with a slight chuckle.
“What’s so funny, hon?”
Peter hadn’t realized she heard him as he turned back to his own PC.
“Nothing. Neal is fine. Speaking of which, I’ll be home for lunch today. I just have to drop Neal off at June’s before. He’s been having headaches so I thought I’d let him go early.”
He heard sensed her worry when she spoke.
“Still? What did the doctor say? I thought he was supposed to be better.”
Peter shrugged uncertain what to say. Neal was very tight-lipped most of the time about things especially when it came to his health. He was no fan of hospitals or doctors he knew but Peter worried if not Elizabeth.
“I don’t know. He doesn’t tell me anything but I can see he’s having them. Maybe we can invite him to dinner and you talk some sense into him. June’s tried and I'd ask Mozzie... but, that’s a lost cause.”
He wished she was there with him now but she was at work as was he. He heard her chuckle briefly at his comment about Mozzie then sigh in unison with him.
“Dinner... I think I can convince him over some of pheasant. Tell him when you drop him off and I’ll see you at home in a few.”
Peter smiled at the thought of having lunch alone with his wife but his need to help Neal was just as strong as he glanced across the outer office and saw the con rubbing at his temples.
“I will. Love you hon.”
She blew him a kiss over the phone before he hung up and placed the cell onhis desk. He had a report to finish then he was free for lunch. Peter turned his attention back to his PC and quickly typed up what was left of his work, printed it and signed it before placing it in the out box on his desk. It wasn’t due right this moment, besides Hughes was out so he could turn it in after lunch. They’d been kept busy with all sorts of paper work and kept from the exciting stuff per Hughes. Mostly the senior agent was worried about Neal more than Peter. Peter had showed he was up to most things with only a twinge off and on from his shoulder. The wound had been deep but healed well enough but he was content with case files for now till Neal was better.
“Boss?”
Diana stood in his door smiling at him as he waved her in. Peter pushed himself up to his feet, grabbing up his jacket as he gave a little stretch.
“What’s up?”
She turned her head a moment to look outside and he realized what was going on.
“He’s ok. I’m going to take him home so he can rest.”
Diana looked at him again and nodded with relief.
“How is Elizabeth?”
He knew Diana had been the one that showed up and saved the day for his wife. Peter smiled, patting her on the arm as he walked to the door and they started out.
“Good. I’m having lunch with her today once I drop Neal at June’s.”
She smiled knowingly and nodded.
“Just the two of you?”
He nodded as he closed the door to his office and started to pull his jacket on and then his coat. She followed him downstairs as they stopped by her desk and he saw Neal look up.
“Yes. How about you?”
He didn’t see Jones at his desk but Diana shrugged.
“Probably just some left overs Christie made. I brought it from home. Jones already took off to interview that mortgage company in the case file we got today. Pretty much the same old same old. Have fun.”
Diana smiled as she gently grasped his arm before he walked over to Neal’s desk, the con still watching them with a kind of curious caution. Peter smiled down at him.
“Get your jacket.”
Neal looked a bit confused but obeyed as he put the file he’d been working on away and stood, pulling on his jacket and then his hat. Peter started towards the door with Neal following, a curious look on his face as they waited by the elevator. They were quiet until they entered the car and the doors shut.
“Tell me what’s up, Peter. You look entirely too happy for someone doing a report on a mortgage fraud case.”
Peter smirked at his partner giving in.
“I’m giving you the rest of the day off and don’t tell me your head isn’t hurting you. Diana noticed too.”
Neal blinked back at him about to protest then stopped as he leaned back against the railing and smiled some.
“I guess it’s obvious but I’m ok, Peter. I swear. Just hurts off and on but I don’t mind the time off. So where are we going to lunch?”
He smiled broadly now as if planning a heist rather than convincing him of an expensive place to eat. Peter shook his head.
“Sorry, going to meet El at home for a quiet lunch while you rest.”
The smile turned to a slight frown which was quickly hidden as Neal tried to compensate for his disappointment with a shrug.
“June said she was bringing in some stuff to sample for an event. Maybe I can help her. This time off couldn’t have come at a better time actually.”
Neal sounded ok but it was obvious he wasn’t happy to be going home alone if only this once. Peter patted him on the arm.
“We’ll go somewhere tomorrow. We have that meeting so Hughes was planning to take us out. It’s supposed to be a surprise but that should give you something to look forward to.”
He winked at his partner as the doors opened and they walked out to the bureau lobby and out to the garage. Neal smiled at him softly as they entered the car.
“Tell Elizabeth I said hi.”
Peter heard the care in his friend’s voice. They were both worried about what had happened to her but El had finally talked to him about the experience, crying on his shoulder. He’d held her in his arms they had cleared the air about the event. Peter had only had an inkling of what was going on upstairs but Neal had guessed at the details and been worried about El in his own way chivalric manner. He knew the con cared about them both and his concern filled the agent with a warm feeling.
“I will and you can to. You’re invited to dinner tonight. 7 pm sharp. El's making those little chickens you like.”
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 /
Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9