Author's Note: And here we go with the next installment of my White Collar fics, enjoy!
Lyrics: Life is Beautiful by Sixx:AM I would recommend listening to the song...
"Life Is Beautiful"
You can't quit until you try
You can't live until you die
You can't learn to tell the truth
Until you learn to lie
"You should learn to lighten up Peter." Neal Caffrey stated as he clambered out of the Ford Taurus. His breath misted on the crisp December air as he glanced over at his partner.
Peter gave a non-committal grunt in reply as he trudged through the winter sludge and up the stairs. Neal followed him reluctantly, knowing that today would be nothing but desk work.
Two hours later a very bored Neal Caffrey decided it was time for some fun. Grabbing his fedora the young man quickly twirled the hat on his fingertip, made it travel up his arm and onto his head. Grinning slightly as he performed a different trick Neal looked up and saw a moody Peter standing in front of him. The grin turned sheepish and Neal sat back down, still twirling the hat in his hands.
Peter's hand shot out and he grabbed the fedora and slammed the innocent hat down on the desk. Neal looked up at Peter, the expression on his face telling the agent that the ex-con didn't like the way Peter was treating his hat.
"You're supposed to be reading case files, not playing with this ridiculous hat."
"Sorry." Neal apologized even though the glint in his eyes told Peter that he didn't mean it.
Peter decided to leave it be and his expression softened. "Want to go to lunch with me later today?"
Neal nodded enthusiastically but managed to keep his voice in a collected tone when he answered, "That would be nice."
Peter shot him a quick grin back before he turned around to walk off. "That means you still need to get at least fifteen of those files read Neal."
Neal groaned in mock-agony at the thought of reading the files. He hated files. Despised them with every fiber of his being. Almost more than he hated guns… and that was saying a lot!
Sighing once more, the thirty-two year old felon picked up a thick file that rested on top of the stack. The next couple of hours would be long.
"Can we go now?" Neal's voice had a childish quality to it as he gave Peter a puppy dog look. "I read them all!"
"Did you count them accurately?"
"Yes, I know how to count."
Peter merely grunted in reply as he grabbed his jacket and motioned for Neal to go in front of him.
Neal happily grabbed his fedora off his desk and scrambled out the door.
The two men had just finished their lunch and were walking out the door when Neal nudged Peter, a concentrated look on his face.
"Isn't that the guy we were looking for?" He motioned towards a small man with tanned skin and orange clothes on.
"You just might be right Neal." Peter replied after intensely scrutinizing the man in question. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone and quickly dialed Jones' number.
"Jones, Neal and I just spotted Fabier in front of our office. I want you and Diana to get a couple of other agents so that we can bring this guy in."
Peter grunted in satisfaction at Jones' eager "Ok boss" and hung up, knowing that Jones would call him if he had any questions.
"Well Neal, lets start after him." Peter looked up only to find that Neal was gone.
"Neal?" Peter growled in frustration. Does that boy ever think before rushing into a situation?
Peter caught a glimpse of his partner sprinting around the corner of the old library building and started off in pursuit.
You can't breathe until you choke
You gotta laugh when you're the joke
There's nothing like a funeral to make you feel alive
Neal was gasping for breath, lungs laboring to collect the precious air as he continued to push his body to the max. It was amazing how fast Fabier was for such a little guy. The ex-con artist briefly wondered if the criminal had run on the track team in high school. He would have been very good.
The breath rattled and choked in his airway when Neal accidentally swallowed wrong. Thumping his chest in a useless effort to make the burning pain that accompanied liquid going down the windpipe, Neal glanced behind him.
There was no sign of Peter and Neal wondered how long it had taken his friend to realize that he had left.
Probably a while, Neal thought in amusement, not noticing the man creep out of the shadows behind him.
Something hit him in the lower back, near his kidneys and Neal stumbled forward with a cry of surprise. At first he couldn't feel anything, and he looked around confused. There was nothing he could have run into or anyone around that could have touched him. That was when Neal reached back with a hand and felt something warm and sticky.
Blood.
His brain clicked and the pain shot through him in scorching, searing waves. Neal felt his legs wobble and sank down to the ground. He heard the gun cock and squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation.
Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?
The gun screamed its loud report furiously and its owner looked over in concern. Peter Burke's pistol smoked in satisfaction as the man dressed like a thug fell to the ground.
Neal had flinched, expecting to feel another bullet rip through his body and was relieved when that was not the case. Worried hands leaned the younger man forward (Neal had leaned back against the wall of a building) and put pressure on the injury. Neal groaned and thought he heard a faint, "Sorry buddy."
I know some things that you don't
I've done things that you won't
There's nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home
Peter pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911.
"What's your emergency?"
"My partner's been shot in the lower back." Peter leaned Neal forward so that he could be more specific about the location. "By his kidneys."
"Alright, we're dispatching an ambulance now."
Peter nodded and set the cell phone down next to him.
I was waiting for my hearse
What came next was so much worse
It took a funeral to make me feel alive
Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?
"Peter?" Neal rasped his friend's name through a dry throat.
"Yeah Neal?"
"Can you promise to do something for me?"
"Sure Neal." Peter replied complacently.
"Promise me you won't cry at my funeral?"
Damn it Neal! Peter thought as the question shook him to the core. "You're not going to die kid; I didn't give you permission to do that. If you do…"
"Lemme guess, you'll through my ass in prison?" Neal replied innocently.
"You bet I will!"
Alive...
Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?
"Will you?" Neal queried as he waited for Peter to answer the original question.
"No."
"You shouldn't be sad about that. You know, they say death is just another adventure."
"That doesn't mean you get to start that journey right now Neal."
"I wonder if it's possible to pull any cons on the other side." Neal's voice was thoughtful.
Only you would Neal. Peter looked down at the younger man. "Don't even think about it. If you try it, I'll hunt you down eventually. I've done it twice already. Besides, it's not fair if you get a head start."
Neal nodded, leaning against Peter.
The sound of sirens pulled closer and Peter smiled. Everything was going to be alright.
Author's Note: I hope you guys liked it! Please leave me a review and let me know what you think! This is a part of a series of one-shots...