"I'm fine." Neal ducks away from Elizabeth's mothering hand, but takes the ice pack she offers, turning to sit at the dining room table. His eyes dart to the stairs where Peter has gone to change his clothes, then back to Elizabeth.

She's biting her lip, her face tense. Neal smiles for her. "He didn't mean to do it."

She nods, her hand rising to cup his cheek. "He never does." Her thumb brushes over the still tender bruise under his eye before she leans in to kiss it tenderly.

"And...I kind of had it coming, didn't I?" Neal says even softer, eyes down now, his hands in his lap. "I got in his way. I was clumsy."

"Stop mothering him." Peter growls as he gets to the bottom of the stairs. "He's fine."

Neal stands, putting the ice back in Elizabeth's hands. "Thank you."

"Kiss her goodbye, Neal." Peter says, adjusting his tie. "Be a good boy so I don't have to punish you later."

Neal nods, steps in close to kiss her cheek. "I'm okay." he whispers in her ear. She nods tightly, not really looking at him as Peter approaches, kissing her cheek as well.

"Neal will be coming for dinner tonight." Peter says conversationally, all sense of his previous anger gone under the veneer of good husband and FBI agent. "Make that lasagna he likes."

"I can do that." Elizabeth responds. "Be safe."

"We will." Peter smiles and for a moment everything is okay, everything is perfectly normal. Then Peter grab's Neal's arm, tight and high and painful, pulling him toward the door.

He has a feeling the black eye is nothing compared to what Peter has planned for him once they're out that door.