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No Amount of Whiskey, No Amount of Wine

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Peter's hands on Neal's body: wrist, shoulder, the small of his back. Hard to tell whether he's steering or stroking, but then, this is Peter.

Neal doesn't accept Peter's touch. He leans into it.

Supposedly secret knowledge of Neal informs Elizabeth's perception (grainy footage of two bodies intertwined on the bench of a rooftop garden in Singapore; file-folder descriptions of kisses in a Paris mansion stairwell that only now make her flush in the middle of her workday).

She wants to be patient, but mostly she wants. It's a matter of when, not if. Hers and Peter's bed is made.