FALL FROM GRACE

Neal entered the White Collar offices feeling uncharacteristically nervous. He knew that everyone in the office was aware that he had been officially cleared of the heist of the Pink Diamond, and Fowler had certainly not made any friends with his overbearing and officious ways, but he also knew it was not going to be easy to erase the image of him being 'perp-walked' down this same hallway just days ago in front of many of these same agents.

Peter's gesture of covering his cuffed hands with his jacket had been kind, but ultimately pointless. Everyone watching knew exactly what was going on, and the ones who missed it were quickly filled in by the rampant office gossip.

He felt fairly confident that Lauren and Jones were on his side, since they had both been in on the after-case celebration, but the feelings of the rest of the floor were probably mixed at best. While things had been improving, many of the agents in the building still felt like he had no right to be there and the resentment was almost palpable.

It made it worse that Peter was not with him and was not expected in until late morning. After Fowler's revelation that Neal's tracker data had been compromised, Peter had set up a meeting with the Marshalls to ensure that no further security breaches would occur.

Neal had been miffed at first, feeling that Peter was once again proving his distrust of the 'working-on-being-reformed' conman, until the older man had pointed out that accurate tracking data would have cleared him of the diamond heist in a matter of minutes. Neither one of them wanted Neal to have to spend any more time in a jail cell, and certainly not for a crime he didn't commit.

But Neal had been in less hospitable places than this, so he squared his shoulders, pasted on one of his shinier smiles and headed for his desk, determined to keep his head down until Peter arrive to smooth the waters.

He had been seated for only a short time when he heard a sharp "Caffrey!" from above. He looked up and saw Hughes glaring down at him and fixing him with the infamous double finger point. He rose to his feet and slowly made his way to the stairs, trying hard to think of what he might have done since the night before to earn the older man's ire. Hughes had been grudgingly apologetic about Neal's time in jail due to the frame job, and had even given Neal a pat on the back as he had left the night before, but he was clearly not in a forgiving mood now.

"Something I can help you with, sir?" he said, trying to look both helpful and innocent. "Peter should be in a little later this morning, if you want to wait for him."

The older agent had taken his seat behind his desk and did not return the smile.

"Sit down. And we don't need to wait for Burke. Believe me; I'll be speaking to Peter later."

Now Neal was even more worried, since Hughes also seemed annoyed at his handler. Maybe he had discovered that Neal had gone to Peter's home and gotten help after his escape, in which case, Peter could be facing severe disciplinary action, or maybe OPR had discovered something else that had aroused their suspicions.

Deciding to rely on the tactic of waiting to see what someone was going to accuse you of before you incriminated yourself with something they didn't know, Neal waited nervously for Hughes to continue.

"This link was sent to me by email this morning. Apparently, it's gone 'viral' whatever that means," the older man said as he turned his computer monitor toward Neal. "It seems a NYU student of architecture was taking video of some of the more striking buildings in the city and caught this by mistake."

Neal leaned forward to get a closer look and saw a blurry vision of himself, perched on the window ledge of the judge's chamber. The picture came into sharper focus just as he launched himself from the window and careened down. Watching, he couldn't help the grin that formed, since he rarely got to see any of his escapes and this one was impressive by any standard.

Unfortunately, Hughes caught his expression and was clearly not pleased. "Wipe that smirk off your face, young man," he barked sharply, startling Neal out of his pleasurable moment.

"Uh, sorry, sir, what can I say?" Neal replied, tearing his eyes away from the screen and giving Hughes the same self-deprecating shrug he had given to Peter when he landed. "Was the judge very upset?" he continued. Unfortunately, this seemed to incense the older agent even more.

"I don't give a damn about Judge Hickman. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you if you hadn't fallen exactly right? Or if that flimsy awning had torn? You could have broken bones, or worse, that brilliant brain of yours could be spattered across a city block!"

Neal wanted to preen a little at the 'brilliant brain' comment, but Hughes still had steam coming from his ears, so he worked hard to keep a neutral expression.

"I realize it was a little risky, sir, but…," He was interrupted by Hughes slamming his hands down on his desk.

"A little risky? What you did was almost suicidal."

Neal stared down at his shoes, trying to look remorseful while he tried frantically to figure out exactly what Hughes was so upset about. Peter had to have told him how Neal had made his escape from the judge's chambers, so why was the agent acting as though he was surprised?

As if reading his mind Hughes spoke again, more quietly this time; clearly trying to get control of his temper. "When Peter told me that you had jumped four stories onto an awning, I thought he was exaggerating. I was picturing a drop of a few feet—something that might have caused you a twisted ankle if you landed wrong. Imagine my surprise when I clicked on this in my inbox."

Neal finally looked up into the stern face. "I know it wasn't exactly safe, sir, but I had to do something to prove my innocence."

"NOT EXACTLY SAFE!" Hughes roared at that gross over-simplification of Neal's actions. If Neal had thought the older man was furious before, the lecture and threats that followed showed him exactly how angry the agent in charge could get.

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Peter returned to the FBI building as quickly as possible, knowing the morning had to have been difficult for Neal. In spite of his lighthearted attitude, he knew that Neal really cared what the other agents thought of him. When he got off the elevator he found Neal at his desk, looking paler and more upset than Peter had ever seen him. Apparently the morning had not gone well. He caught Jones' eye, but the younger man just shrugged, unsure why Neal looked so devastated.

Peter had planned to go to his office and get settled before speaking to Neal, but evidently, this couldn't wait.

"Everything all right?" he asked as he approached his CI's desk.

Neal shook his head but seemed unwilling to offer more. Peter stepped closer and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Neal, what happened?" he asked worriedly.

Neal met his eyes and then quickly looked away. "Hughes called me in to his office this morning while you were at the Marshall's office. He's really mad."

"What did he say?" Peter was really anxious now. His unusual arrangement with Neal only worked because of Reese's willingness to sign off on it. If the agent in charge had had a change of heart, Neal could be back in prison before the end of the week.

Neal shook his head; glancing around at the all too eager faces of the other White Collar agents who were avidly listening.

With an understanding look, Peter directed Neal to an empty interrogation room where they could talk without being overheard. Once their privacy was ensured, Peter encouraged him to continue the conversation, but Neal still seemed reluctant to discuss it.

"Neal, I need to know what Hughes is upset about."

Neal finally spoke. "He was really angry about the jump I took out of the judge's office."

Peter frowned, looking confused. "I told him about that."

"Yeah, well apparently, seeing it in living color made more of an impression." Neal actually found himself smiling again at the remembered glory, until he considered Hughes' reaction. "It seems a student caught it on film and then posted it on YouTube. Someone sent Hughes the link to it."

When no more seemed to be forthcoming, Peter scowled impatiently. "And?" he prompted, frustrated with Neal's unwillingness to share. It would be unlike Hughes to instill more sanctions on Neal as punishment without first talking to Peter, but if the older man was really angry at the escape attempt, he might have.

And if Hughes had cut Neal's radius or some other similar restriction, it would make Neal that much more difficult to deal with.

"Hughes thinks what I did was really stupid and risky," Neal finally, and clearly reluctantly, replied.

"Which it was," Peter provided helpfully, ignoring Neal's scowl. "But, Neal, what else did he say?"

With a last look around to make sure their privacy was intact, Neal finally leaned forward and all but whispered,

"He said he'd…." Once again, Neal faltered, unable to complete the sentence.

By this time, Peter's imagination had gone into overdrive, picturing the worst possible scenarios.

"What, Neal? Whatever it is, we'll work it out," he promised somewhat recklessly, since he had no idea what Hughes could have threatened that would have the infamous Neal Caffrey practically trembling.

Neal's voice dropped even lower.

"He said he'd…spank me if I ever did something like that again," Neal finally blurted, his voice more than a touch desperate. "Peter, I think he really meant it!"

Once the words sunk in, Peter had to press his lips together to hold back the laugh. To see Neal, who had survived prison with most of his good humor intact, pale and nervous at what had to be a completely facetious threat of a spanking was almost too much to believe.

Then again, he had seen Reese Hughes on a rant, and probies and even agents who had faced down gunmen had been known to shake in their shoes at the sight. And the Reese Hughes he knew wasn't prone to making idle threats.

But still, the older man had to have been exaggerating, and that's what he was quick to reassure Neal.

"Neal, I'm sure he didn't mean that literally. He was just trying to make a point about taking chances with your life, something I have tried to drill into your head more than once or twice."

Neal didn't seem comforted. "Peter, he was very explicit. He said there was not much he could do to me on the record, but if he ever got wind of something like that happening again, he'd haul me into his office and put me over his knee. Have you seen how big his hands are?"

Peter frowned at the additional details. It really sounded as if Hughes was trying to put the fear of God into their criminal consultant. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, since it was something that Peter tried to do on a regular basis, but it clearly had his favorite conman rattled.

It took him several minutes, but he finally calmed Neal down and got him settled back at his desk with some old case files and then went to talk to Hughes.

It was quickly apparent that Neal had not been exaggerating about Hughes' level of anger. Peter had to endure his own scathing lecture about covering for his CI and not being entirely forthcoming about Neal's mode of escape. And when the senior agent was finished, he sent Peter on his way with the admonishment to 'tell Caffrey I was dead serious'.

Peter thought it best not to mention that to Neal since he could tell just from observing that the younger man was still extremely nervous, but he privately decided that it couldn't hurt to let Neal worry about answering to someone else occasionally.

Neal, for his part, tried to concentrate on his work, though he jumped any time Hughes left his office for any reason for the rest of the afternoon. Peter had refused to provide many details from his own conversation with the boss, other than to remind Neal to keep his head down and be on his best behavior.

By the time 5:30 rolled around, both men were more than ready to head to their respective homes, anxious to put this difficult day behind them.

Once Peter dropped him off, Neal climbed the steps to the front door, relieved beyond measure to be home and safely out of reach of Hughes' wrath.

With a jauntier air and a contented sigh, he unlocked the door, looking forward to a relaxing evening of take out from his favorite restaurant, a bottle of wine, and a good book.

He tossed his hat on the newel post and called a quick hello to June, who he could hear in the lounge. His new found calm was shattered at her reply.

"Neal George Caffrey! Get in here this minute, young man, and explain to me this YouTube link that Cindy just sent me by email."

Without a second thought or reply, Neal grabbed his hat and took off out the door.

There were an awful lot of places you could hide in New York within a two mile radius.