A/N: Ohai there. =| Life decided it was going to sucker punch me in the face so this is REALLY late. xD I am so sorry. Thank you for sticking with me!

Chapter 10: Preparations

"I want as much coverage as we can get," Peter said to his phone as he paced his living room. "Vans on the ground, snipers in the surrounding buildings, air coverage if we can manage it. Anything available needs to be there by nine o'clock tomorrow morning."

While he spoke, Elizabeth exited the kitchen carrying two cups of hot chocolate. She gave one to Firefingers, who was sitting at the dining table, and sat down to his left. Firefingers accepted the cup with a smile.

"Thank you, my dear," he said charmingly.

"Not a problem," Elizabeth replied.

They both turned in their chairs to watch Peter, who was still pacing as he chattered into the phone.

"He takes this job seriously, doesn't he?" Firefingers asked, carefully sipping the hot chocolate. Elizabeth nodded.

"That he does. Sometimes a little too seriously. I don't think he'd know how to function in any other job."

"I can relate to that," Firefingeres conceded. Peter wrapped up his phone conversation and hung up, flushed with excitement. "I owe you one, Tory. You've been a huge help."

"Anything to keep you off my trail."

Peter opened his mouth to say something but promptly closed it again. Elizabeth winked knowingly at him.

"Is that why someone like you agreed to help?" she asked innocently. "I'd think you'd have yourself covered enough to not have to worry."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," Firefingers said with a wink. "Besides, it's been good to catch up with Neal."

Peter put his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, well, this time, I'm in your debt. Thank you, Tory."

"Are you not so subtly trying to kick me out?" Firefingers said in a deadpan. Peter, standing behind him, looked instantly guilty. "I hope you don't think I plan to leave you at this. I intend to see it through to the end. By your leave, Agent Burke, I would like to be in attendance tomorrow morning."

Elizabeth cocked her head at Peter, who had little choice in the matter.

"Fine," Peter said.

"Excellent." Firefingers turned in his chair to face Peter. "Additionally, also by your leave, I am currently in transition and have no place to stay tonight. Would you be kind enough to lend me your couch for the night?"

"Of course we will," Elizabeth said before Peter had a chance to say anything to the contrary. Peter gave her an alarmed look.

"Your beauty is surpassed only by your kindness, Madame Burke," Firefingers said. Peter thought fleetingly that at least Neal wasn't as irritatingly archaic. Elizabeth smiled, relishing the praise.

"El, can I talk to you in the kitchen?" Peter said. Firefingers smiled, wide and amused. Elizabeth excused herself politely and led the way into the adjacent room. She spoke first after the door closed.

"He's harmless, Peter," she said. "He hasn't done anything to you thus far, and I don't see why he'd start now."

Peter's mouth hung uselessly open, his hands still on his hips.

"Besides, can't you see he's scoping you out?" she continued. "He's observing you, my guess is because he wants to know if he can trust you. Let him stay just one night, to show him that you mean business."

Peter couldn't argue her. "Fine," he said. "But I'm putting away all the valuables."

They walked back out into the other room. Firefingers was still seated at the table, petting Satchmo. He looked up.

"One night, Shepherd," Peter said. "Then you get your own place."

"Trust me, Agent Burke, I have little interest in plaguing you longer than necessary."

Elizabeth made her way over to the stairs. "I'll get you some blankets," she called as she disappeared. In her absence, Peter and Firefingers locked eyes.

"Why do you want to stay here?" Peter asked.

"You should know by now that I don't give straight answers," the other man replied, taking a sip from his hot chocolate.

The next morning was a flurry of activity before dawn even broke. Peter was up early, careful not to disturb Elizabeth as he got out of bed. Downstairs, Firefingers was sprawled on the couch, dead to the world. Peter went into the kitchen and set some coffee on the brew before returning upstairs to get dressed. He was tired but nerves were electrifying him into a state of hyperalert consciousness. Even after all of these years in the FBI, getting close to his mark was still a source of excitement.

He straightened his tie as he descended the stairs again. It had been less than ten minutes but Firefingers was sitting bolt upright, alert and showing no signs of having been unconscious moments before.

"Good morning, Agent Burke," he said in a quiet tone. "Is that coffee I smell?"

Peter nodded and went to the kitchen, filling two cups with coffee.

"Want any milk or anything?" Peter asked politely as he added some to his own cup.

"Black is fine, thank you," Firefingers said. "What are our plans this morning?"

"We're playing it by ear. We have no idea what's going to happen, but we're preparing with the worst in mind. Things might get hairy. Can you handle a gun?"

Firefingers made a face.

"Yes, but it's not exactly a hobby of mine."

"You really did teach Neal," Peter grumbled, putting on his jacket. "Come on. We're leaving. Let me say goodbye to my wife and we'll be off."

Firefingers waited patiently while Peter made a third trip up and down the stairs. In the car, a somewhat uncomfortable silence settled in the front seats. The drive was a little lengthy, especially in New York traffic. Peter drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

"So you and Neal used to be close, huh?" Peter asked awkwardly. "And no, I don't expect a straight answer."

"We were once closer than you could imagine. He used to follow me around like a puppy. I don't think he's ever fully lost that quality."

Peter, surprised by Firefingers's candid response, made a snap decision to pursue the straight responses while they lasted.

"So why did you two go your separate ways?"

"You don't have kids, do you?"

Peter shook his head.

"Neither do I, but Neal was something of a surrogate. I taught him until he couldn't learn from me anymore, and so he left the nest. Doesn't mean I stopped watching him."

"I'm guessing, then, that you knew me before Neal introduced us."

"I knew of you, just never bothered to find out the details. I had that information on hand, however, in case you ever decided to chase after me."

"Why is Neal so significant? Why him, out of all the people you could've taught? Why teach at all?"

"That, Agent Burke, is where I cease to give honest answers."

They fell silent again, Firefingers staring out the window.

"Answer me this, Agent Burke," he said. "Is Neal significant to you?"

Unsure of where this line of questioning was going, Peter gave a guarded, "Yes."

"How significant?"

"He… uh, he matters, if that's what you mean. I care about him. He's useful and… he's a good friend."

Firefingers smiled.

"That's all I wanted to know, Agent Burke."

The rest of the drive was completed in silence.

The street where Nicholas Kerrington was moving to looked, for all intents and purposes, perfectly normal. But Peter could easily pick out the assorted FBI agents and vehicles surrounding the place, hidden amongst the typical scenery.

He parked a few streets away and he and Firefingers began walking down an alley back to their mark to avoid being seen.

"Jones volunteered to pick up Neal," Peter explained. "I wanted to be here early and figured Neal didn't. I wasn't expecting to have you tagging along."

"I relish my own unpredictability."

"Yeah. Congratulations."

They stopped near one of the surveillance vans. Peter double checked that no one was watching, then knocked.

"It's Burke and Shepherd," he said.

The door opened.

"Shepherd? I thought you ditched us," Lauren said as she helped the two men climb into the van.

"Only temporarily, my dear," he said, smiling. Peter rolled his eyes and sat down at one of the surveillance stations.

"Okay. We've got about two hours or so until Kerrington gets here. Is everything in place?"

"Everything in plain sight is," said Lauren. "We figured getting off the streets was more important than anything else."

Peter nodded. "Good. Has there been any activity in the house?"

"Nothing other than neighbours walking dogs out front. We followed them just to be cautious."

"One way or another I want the neighbours to know to stay inside," Peter said. "I don't want any innocents getting caught up if this turns ugly."

"How should I do that?"

"Have someone pose as a door-to-door salesman," Firefingers suggested. "But instead of handing out pamphlets, give them a note explaining the situation. I'd do it myself but my cover is long gone."

He glanced pointedly at Peter, who chose to ignore the jab.

"That's a good idea. Lauren, you--"

"On it," she said, putting on her jacket and leaving the truck. Firefingers closed the door behind her. He sat down at the second surveillance station.

"Never thought I'd be sitting inside one of these," he said, leaning in to look closely at the equipment. Peter glanced at him.

"Don't touch anything."

"Didn't plan to. I can get enough through observation. I admit, though, this is fascinating. It's like being god. It's a nice change from being watched to doing the watching."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. This is probably a one-time thing for you. Hughes is uncomfortable having Neal around, and we have power over him. You're your own man."

"And I always will be, Agent Burke."

"Not if I find something on you," Peter said, smiling slightly. Firefingers caught the humour and was dignified enough to appreciate it. He returned the smile.

"I doubt you can. It would be fun to watch you try, though."

"I watched you forge a painting."

"Enjoy explaining why you're the one who asked me to do it."

"Touché."

Friendly banter was a new side of Firefingers to Peter. He sensed that the other man still had a disdain for him, but it wasn't as powerful as it had been. Maybe Neal was right – Firefingers did respect him.

Waiting was largely uneventful for Firefingers, and was marginally less boring for Peter, who at least had to occasionally coordinate some part of the operation. The con artist dozed while Peter worked, a set-up that wasn't unfamiliar to the agent.

A knock on the van doors jerked Firefingers out of his sleep. Peter reached over his head and opened the door.

"Ah, Jones and Neal," he said as they climbed in. "Just in time."

Neal immediately noticed Firefingers, who nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"Tory," he said, surprise evident in his voice. "You're here."

"Wouldn't miss the show for the world."

"I was wondering how we found the place so quickly."

Firefingers smiled.

"Power of persuasion, my boy."

"Right. Jones, thanks for picking him up," Peter said. "You know where you need to be, right?"

Jones nodded and hopped out of the van. Neal closed the doors behind him. Peter waited a moment or two, then picked up his radio.

"Alright, everyone, T minus ten minutes. Everything in position?"

A crackle of affirmative answers came through. Firefingers sat up intently. Peter pressed the button again.

"Good. At my signal, everyone move out. Do not move until I give the signal."

Another crackle of positive responses, and Peter put down his radio. He took one of his pistols out of its holster and double checked that it was ready and loaded. He looked at the two other men.

"Either take a weapon or stay inside this van," he said. Firefingers and Neal exchanged glances.

"Is there a C, none of the above?" Firefingers said. Peter shook his head, and Firefingers sighed. He held out his hand.

"Fine."

Peter handed him a second pistol, which he looked at with disdain. Neal, on the other hand, didn't seem to be as willing.

"I'll just stick by you, Peter," he said. "I'm not a gun guy."

Firefingers, before Peter could respond, stood up and thwacked Neal on the back of his head.

"Pay attention, boy," he said. "Either in the van or with a gun. There isn't a third option. I wasn't asking to be cute."

Peter gave Neal an amused look, biting back his smile. He picked up a third pistol and handed it to Neal, who accepted it with reluctance. Firefingers glared at him.

"Always listen," he said. "Always listen."

He sat back down. Peter shrugged at Neal and turned his attention to the monitors.

"There's a car," he said, leaning down intently. Both Firefingers and Neal crowded in to see. "They're getting out… Kerrington's not with them? No, wait, there. In the middle."

"I'll be damned, the bastard brought muscle," Firefingers said as Peter picked up his radio.

"Everyone at the ready, hold position. Target sighted," he said. The three men watched as Kerrington and four other men climbed out of the car. Two of the men flanked Kerrington while the other two went inside, presumably to make sure the coast was clear. Kerrington leaned against the car while one of his guards took a few steps away to light up a cigarette.

"No better time than now, Agent Burke," Firefingers said.

Peter picked up his radio.

"Go!"

A/N: Cliffhanger. You're welcome. ;D Hopefully it won't take me so long on the next part. Thank you for your support! Please review! ^_^