NOTE: I am still working on White Rabbit. I have a good reason for being late on the story this time. I have spent the past days in beautiful New York City with friends I've met through White Collar. It was a lot of fun. I was given the writing challenge of a random act of violence against Neal (it seems to be a common theme and one I'm certainly well versed in). So this was my solution. Just a short one shot, not to be taken too seriously.
Central (Park) Conflict
"My feet are killing me." Neal complained. "We've been out here for hours. Stakeouts are difficult enough sitting in the car. It doesn't help that gearing up to be a million degrees today. The Park still is beautiful though..."
Neal was correct about the heat, although possibly exaggerating by a few degrees. It was around ten in the morning but the heat was already starting to steam the thick humidity that hung in the still air. Standing on the Bow Bridge in Central Park over The Lake Peter and Neal were guarding one of the entrances to the wooded area of the Rambles. Coffee in hand and acting as though they were just having a casual business meeting of their own the pair was waiting for an exchange to take place so they could nab the extortionist.
Their 'victim' was waiting just on the far side of the bridge, he'd been given the place but he'd been given a service window much like one from the cable company. The pick up would be sometime between 7am and 3pm, he was expected to be there. With several ways into the Rambles the FBI had several teams in place, all of them hoping the deal was going to happen closer to seven than three, but fully expecting to wait until five.
The waters of Central Park were almost a neon green with a recent bumper crop in algae that gave the lake a stagnate look. The threat of a long boring day standing on the bridge had put Neal in a needlessly chatty mood consisting mostly of complaining and random facts about the park. Listening to him drone on with feigned interest Peter kept his eye out for their target. Neal leaned over the railing slightly and started to comment on the swirling pattern of the green water. Taking his eyes off the park for a moment Peter stared at Neal standing in the vulnerable position over the rail.
Carefully putting his coffee down on the bridge rail Peter suddenly lashed out at Neal without warning. Using Neal's tie and the back of his belt for purchase Peter hauled him up and flipped him over the waist high stone railing in one fluid motion. With a sharp cry of surprise Neal fell eight feet to the water landing on his back with a resounding slap and a large splash.
Peter looked calmly over the edge at the thick green water that had swallowed the con man whole. He picked up his coffee and enjoyed a sip while watching a few stray bubbles break the surface. Mildly surprised that Neal wasn't a better swimmer Peter wondered if some of the famous New York City sewer alligators had made it into The Lake. Contemplating how the single act of violence had solved so many of his problems Peter closed his eyes and enjoyed the quiet that had fallen over the scene.
"Peter?"
Neal's voice broke through the temporary silence. With the daydream interrupted by reality Peter opened his eyes and glanced over at Neal still standing beside him before turning his attention back to his surveillance duties. Neal studied him for a moment, taking note of the very faint smile that was touching the corner of his lips. Looking down at the pea soup colored water Neal furrowed his brow in concern.
"Peter?"
"Yes, Neal?"
"...were you just fantasizing about throwing me off the bridge?"
"Yes I was."
"I see." Neal said slowly as he thought about this information. "How often do you have thoughts like that?"
"With increasing frequency."
Keeping a suspicious eye on Peter Neal made a show of taking a full step away from him. Peter continued to sip at his coffee and stare out over the park. Neal took a breath to say something more, but stopped himself. Shrugging it off Neal stepped closer again and put his shoulder against Peter's before taking a long draw at this own coffee. Peter looked at the invasion of his personal space but didn't say anything.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't have similar thoughts about you from time to time." Neal chuckled. "All part of a healthy relationship."
"I might not go so far as to say 'healthy'," Peter said "but certainly normal."
"At least normal for us."
"As normal as you and I are likely to ever get."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Me either."