White Collar

White Knights

BeautifulAlice

Summary: Neal and Peter in a midevil carnival, chasing a suspect, when Neal gets shot with an arrow.

"Oh, come on!" Peter gasped, as they dodged around a old wagon. "You can't seriously believe that we're knights on a quest!"

"Well, we ARE chasing a man, who shot a man dressed up like the king! I really think that you're a knight, Peter…or at least you might've been a knight in a past life." Neal retorted, moving quickly after Peter, and yanking him back as a man was throwing hatchets at the board in front of him.

"Hatchets, swords, axes, arrows…it's like we're living in the mid 18th century here. Anyone heard of technology?" Peter grumbled.

The two of them were currently moving to talk to a suspect on their most recent case-a painting was stolen from the 18th century art museum in New York, and the guard had been killed by an arrow to his heart. The guard had been known as a 'king' in the midevil village, just outside New York. They'd tracked the suspect down, and they were ninety percent sure that the suspect was their art thief.

"I think this is the tent…it looks like the one from the guard's wallet," Peter said, holding up the picture. The tent was a dead ringer, or so it seemed, and Neal moved in. "Damn it, Neal!" Peter hurried to catch up.

Inside the tent, it was crowded with ancient shields, swords, art…and the missing painting that Neal was currently looking over.

"Hey, look what I found, Peter!" Neal said cheerfully, and Peter was about to speak when he spotted something that made him quickly reach for his gun.

"Neal get down!" Peter barked, but before Neal could the suspect had grabbed Neal and had a bow with a very wicked looking arrow pointing right at Neal's head. Neal looked more than a bit surprised.

"I'm not going to jail…that painting belongs here." The suspect said evenly, looking intently at Peter. "Leave."

"I'm afraid I can't do that…not since you have my consultant as a hostage." Peter said calmly, hiding his very real fear of Neal getting shot with an arrow.

The suspect pushed Neal hard towards Peter. Peter caught Neal, and the suspect aimed his bow and arrow at them.

"Leave!" He snapped.

"Not without that painting either," Neal spoke up. "The woman that painted it wants the painting back-" Neal stopped speaking when the suspect shot the arrow at Neal…the arrow which was only now sticking out of his left shoulder.

"Neal!" Peter hastened to get him to the ground, ignoring the suspect's babbling about how he hadn't meant to release the arrow, he wasn't used to actually firing, will he live…Peter saw that beyond having the arrow out of him, Neal seemed calm enough, though he looked as though he were gritting his teeth at the pain.

"Peter…you so totally owe me one." Neal said, staring at him. "Get that guy, and make sure he doesn't shoot anyone else!" Neal added, as the suspect looked like he was about to make a dash for it.

"Be right back," Peter promised. He got up, and then dashed after the suspect, which fired a couple of arrows his way, but Peter managed to duck.

Peter hoped that Neal was calling in Diana and Jones from the van nearby, because he was really more than a bit busy, dodging scary looking clowns, fire balls of doom, and-

"Gotcha!" Peter slammed into the suspect, bringing him down into the mud with a tackle. Peter quickly cuffed him. "You're under arrest for shooting an FBI consultant." Peter told him. "And not to mention killing that guard and stealing the artwork from the museum."

Peter led the suspect back to the tent, his worry for Neal increasing-but apparently, Diana was already there with an ambulance and everything.

"Neal was shot with an arrow, boss? Really?" Diana asked, amused.

"Unfortunately, yes." Peter agreed, handing her the suspect. "Here's the man that did it. And I know where the missing art is as well, thanks to Neal pointing it out." Peter went to take down the artwork, feeling relieved that the case had been closed.

Now maybe they could leave this carnival of nightmares.

Peter walked into Neal's hospital room, blinking as he heard Elizabeth laughing.

"I can't believe you were shot with an arrow!" She said, sounding more than a bit giddy. "An arrow! Peter!" She spotted him and quickly dragged him inside. "Hi hon," She said, pressing her lips to his.

"Hey you," He returned. "Neal, how are you feeling?"

"Awful. I'm tired of everyone making fun of me for getting shot with an arrow. It's not that funny!" Neal said indignantly.

Peter grinned, setting down the flowers that he'd picked up for Neal.

"I hate to tell you buddy, but it kind of is." Peter said, smirking at him.

Neal sighed.

"Well at least Mozzie isn't making fun of me…yet." Neal tacked on.

"Oh, sweetie, we're only making fun of you because it's just so…so…what's the word I'm looking for sweetie?" El asked, frowning.

"Ironic?" Peter suggested, and she brightened.

"It's so ironic! You hate guns and instead of a bullet you get shot with an arrow." She said, grinning at him.

Neal blinked.

"You're right, that is ironic. But I still don't think it's that amusing," Neal said with a roll of his eyes, and a wince as he tried to sit up a bit. Elizabeth quickly helped him, and Neal gave her a grateful smile.

"So, is there another case yet?" Neal asked, eagerly. Peter rolled his eyes.

"Nope. Just came by to drop off some soup that June sent. She says she'll come see you here after a while, she was entertaining Mozzie with a game of checkers." Peter told him cheerfully, moving to sit next to Neal and his wife.

"Well…next time we chase a suspect with an arrow, it's your turn to get shot." Neal told him with a yawn. "In the meantime, I think I'll get some sleep. You did catch the guy right?"

"Yup. He'll be spending his days in jail arrow free," Peter said with a grin, even as his wife leaned against his chest. "Get some rest Neal, you've earned it."

Neal, with a small smile, slowly slipped to sleep.

Elizabeth and Peter remained at his side, watching over him.

Later, Peter would say that they stayed to make sure that Neal wouldn't be shot with any more arrows.

But right now they stayed because it seemed the right thing to do.

The knightly thing to do.

The End

Notes: Also posted on AO3 underneath i_write_a_lot