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Neal sits downstairs long after Peter and El go to bed, Satchmo's head in his lap (and El would kill both of them if she found out he let Satch on the couch, but it's their secret). The room is only illuminated by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, and the only sound is Satch's snuffling snores.
"Hey."
Neal looks up to find Elizabeth smiling at him, wrapped up in Peter's robe. She sits down on the arm of the couch beside Neal and leans across him to scratch Satchmo's head. "So this is where you get the idea that sitting on the couch is okay." She turns and grins at Neal. "You're a bad influence."
Neal shrugs and grins back. "Hey, it's Christmas."
El sits back and turns her full attention to Neal. "You coming up?" she asks, pushing his hair back. He shuts his eyes and leans into her touch.
"Yeah. Soon."
"You okay?"
He nods. "I've, uhh... I've spent Christmas in Rome and Paris and fancy hotel rooms and...this is the first time I've spent Christmas in a place that feels like home."
"Neal..."
"It's good," he mumbles as he turns his head to press a kiss into her palm. She pulls him close, bending down to press her lips to his forehead. He chuckles, smelling her perfume on her wrist, but Peter on the robe, and yeah, it's good.