I don't own White Collar. Tell me what you think.
It just looks like a pile of paper to Neal. There's no meaning. He can't find the right link between the first piece of paper and the second, or the third or even the fourth page. He's used to solving difficult cases, but this time the pile in front of him leaves him baffled.
"I have an idea," Peter says.
Neal stares at his partner in disbelief.
"Why don't we go back to the beginning and focus on that."
"Page one makes just as much sense as page two. It doesn't," Neal adds.
The truth is that Neal is getting sick of staring at these pages. He's not supposed to be doing this in the first place. He enjoys drinking a good glass of wine, loves leaning back and making himself comfortable. Neal realizes that what he's doing doesn't even come close.
"Maybe we should ask Elizabeth?"
El is their voice of reason. She helps where she can and most of the time she manages to offer a new perspective.
"And admit defeat? She's going to say this was my idea."
"She'd have a point."
"She wanted a new kitchen, she didn't specify where to get it."
"I bet she wasn't considering Ikea, Peter."
Peter just glares in reply.
"Shut up and read the instruction manual?" Neal asks, trying to sound as innocent as possible.
Another glare.
"Okay, I can do that."
The End