DOWN THE PRIMROSE PATH
Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar, Elizabeth, Peter or Neal.
Friendship with Peter Burke was a mine-field that Neal Caffrey was still negotiating even as their tentative professional partnership blossomed. It wasn't a lack of self-confidence that kept Neal's fist from pounding on Peter's front door, but an increasing apprehension that this conversation would implode a friendship that he was just now beginning to rely on. 'But,' he reasoned with himself as he knocked tentatively on the door, 'I'm not the one running the con this time'.
As he heard footsteps approaching, he watched anxiously as his taxicab's taillights disappeared from view. He was able to take one last deep cleansing breath before facing his quarry.
As the door swung open, he pasted on one of his patently phony smiles, "Hello Elizabeth".
"Neal," Elizabeth Burke looked a little perplexed as she scanned over both his shoulders and determined that he was alone. He had removed his fedora and was twirling it around in his hands. Suddenly her bewilderment turned to alarm as Neal's smile faltered and his expression turned grave.
"Is it Peter?" she asked breathlessly, a panicked expression on her face.
"No...yes...I mean, no," he hurried to reassure her, "Peter is fine." He mentally added, 'As far as I know'.
"Don't scare me like that," El exhaled in relief as she playfully slapped Neal's arm. In a calmer tone she queried, "Where is Peter anyway?"
Neal conjured another pleasant smile, "I'm not sure. He took off early today."
"That's funny," Elizabeth replied in genuine surprise, "He didn't mention it to me this morning."
Neal didn't respond, his eyes focusing on the interior of the house. It didn't take a genius to realize that Neal was searching for something and was unhappy at his failure to find it.
"Do you want to come in?" she offered politely. At his positive nod, she ushered Neal into the dining room where they took seats opposite of each other. They shared an uneasy moment of silence.
"I need a glass of water," Neal laid his much beloved hat on the table and jumped up, heading for the kitchen, "Don't worry. I'll get it myself."
El contemplated following, but having just lectured her husband on trusting Neal, she kept her seat and busied herself with shutting down the laptop she had been working on. She didn't even comment when the conman returned to his chair without a glass. There was a discouraged, almost dismayed look to his face.
"How was your trip?" Neal's question, apparently coming from right field, confused Elizabeth even more.
"You know I haven't been out of town in over a month," she replied cautiously, "Neal, be straight with me. What's going on?"
For a few long seconds Neal refused to meet her eyes, tracing the brim of his hat repetitively with his right index finger. He sighed, seemingly resigning himself to a conversation that now he regretted.
"Do you trust me?" his soulful gaze met her concerned one, "Trust me when I say that you are my friend and I wouldn't want to intentionally hurt you?"
"Yes," she replied unhesitatingly.
Neal's gaze never wavered, but he took in a long slow breath, summoning every ounce of courage, before divulging the conclusion that he had come to earlier in the day, "I think Peter is having an affair".