Endeavors of a Shopping Excursion
Author's Note: I really have no idea as to how these specific plot bunnies find their way into my mind, but here's another one-shot, set sometime in the future. This story should be much lighter than my last one was, but with some angst, and while there are small allusions to Musings on a Broken Heart and Bittersweet, one need not read those stories in order to understand this one. There is a large focus on Peter/Elizabeth, but the Elizabeth/Neal friendship is studied, mostly in Elizabeth's POV, to a great extent herein, as well. Peter/Neal banter is a given, too. I hope you all enjoy reading this!
Disclaimer: I claim no rights to anything White Collar. Honestly, it's not nice to rub it in for the sixth time.
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Elizabeth Burke prided herself on being a woman of strong moral fiber; having a decisive, determined nature; and preparing for the expected and unexpected obstacles of life. She was well-organized, at home and in the office, and her meticulous planner ensured that she never missed an appointment or a special occasion.
But all of these admirable qualities, combined, did little to assuage her aggravation at realizing that Peter's birthday was only three days away – it would fall on a Sunday this year – and she had yet to buy him a gift.
She wasn't panicking, though, not by any means. She'd already placed her order at The Greatest Cake, and she would be going to the grocery store tomorrow night to buy ingredients to cook a special birthday dinner for Peter. The only item yet to be crossed out on her mental and literal to-do lists was the present. Elizabeth was a very good gift-giver. She paid close attention to the little details about a person, allowing her to figure out which stationery set would best suit her co-worker or which chef's apron to buy for Dana's husband, whom Peter liked to refer to as the "hot wings guy."
For more than ten years, Elizabeth had had little trouble in procuring the perfect birthday present for Peter: comfortable dress shirts; elegant-but-not-overly-fancy ties; once, a pair of pricy cufflinks; a twenty-seven-inch flat screen television for their bedroom; and tickets to watch his favorite team at the stadium, should he be able to pull himself from work long enough to actually make use of them. Excellent presents, all of them, and she knew that Peter genuinely appreciated the gifts.
This year, though, Elizabeth wanted to find something extra-special for her beloved husband. Their lives had changed drastically since his last birthday, to say the least. For one thing, they had sort of adopted a new member into the Burke household. Neal Caffrey, whom Elizabeth would readily admit to fawning over in a sisterly, almost motherly fashion, was an integral part of their family now. He was Peter's best friend, despite whatever arguments the two might bring forth against this labeling of their relationship, and Satchmo had found a new companion in him. She enjoyed entertaining for the three of them now and not only because she was privy to Neal's refined palette, which talent she utilized to further her clients' satisfaction.
Elizabeth smiled upon remembering the many mornings in which Neal would arrive at their home, unannounced, and promptly invite himself to partake of their breakfast. Had the intruder been anyone but the effortlessly charming ex-con, Elizabeth was sure that Peter would have had the man in handcuffs and on his way to the Bureau faster than Neal could pick a lock, but as it was, she knew that he secretly took joy in indulging in his partner's whims and idiosyncrasies.
Thinking of Peter's brotherly fondness for Neal only reinforced the grin upon her face. Elizabeth loved her husband very much. He was good-hearted, he was dedicated to his job, he had a firm opinion of right-and-wrong, and he always tried his hardest to make time for the two of them, just Peter-and-Elle. He could be forgetful and oblivious, but Elizabeth knew he meant well and did everything he could to please her. Reflecting on the events of the past year, she was especially grateful for her steadfast, tenacious husband. Fowler had tried, more than once, to sabotage Peter's position in the Bureau and he had even resorted to nearly ruining Burke Premiere Events to have him suspended. Throughout all of these frustrations, Peter had reassured and comforted her. He was the one constant in her life.
With these thoughts in mind, Elizabeth steeled herself for a Saturday of intense shopping in the city. She wanted Peter to understand how much she loved him and treasured him as her husband and as her other half, the one person she couldn't live without.
On an impulse, she grabbed her BlackBerry and called the second person on her speed dial.
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At ten o'clock on Saturday morning, Neal Caffrey sat with a steaming mug of Italian roast – not quite at the level of deliciousness that June provided – on the patio of his favorite café. He had been slightly surprised when Elizabeth had called him on Thursday night, asking him to meet her and not to tell Peter where he would be. He had agreed, slight suspicion at whatever she had up her sleeve overridden by curiosity. He had never spent an entire day alone with Elizabeth before and he felt that this would be an appropriate opportunity for discreetly studying his partner's wife.
Glancing away from the park directly opposite and over to his left, Neal spotted Elizabeth crossing the street. Taking a last sip of his coffee, he stood, leaving a generous tip for the pretty waitress, and walked to meet Elizabeth at the intersection.
"Good morning, Elizabeth," he greeted, smiling widely at her.
She returned the sentiment. "Good morning, Neal. Thanks for meeting with me today." This was one of the things he most liked about Elizabeth Burke. She had been warm and welcoming from the moment he arrived at her doorstep, and he wondered if she knew how much he appreciated being treated as Peter's partner and not as a criminal to be wary of.
He waved her off, masking his musings. "Of course. What's up?"
"Well, I need your help," she started, steering him in the direction he had come from. They made their way down the street, passing the café and entering a men's clothing store. "You know it's Peter's birthday this Sunday?"
"I do," Neal grinned. "I've already… arranged for his present. Is that why you wanted to see me today?" If she was, indeed, asking for his assistance on the matter, he was flattered.
"Yes," Elizabeth admitted, quirking an eyebrow at his turn of phrase. She began perusing the racks, grimacing upon reaching a hideously striped ensemble. "I know I could buy him something similar to what I've gotten him over the years, but I wanted to get him an extra-special present this year. Think you can help me figure something out?"
"As long as you're not hoping for a deviled ham-recipe-of-the-month supplier, I'm sure we can find what you're looking for."
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Three hours later, Neal and Elizabeth were seated in a fairly upscale French restaurant, polishing off a heavenly crème brûlée. They'd browsed a number of shops – all within Neal's radius, of course – to no avail, as Elizabeth kept insisting that she was searching for something specific. She had been forced to admit that her husband couldn't appreciate fashion unless she was modeling for him, so clothing was out of the question. The Burkes weren't affluent, but their combined salaries generally allowed them to buy the luxuries they desired, which meant that Peter wasn't really longing for anything in particular.
"I'm sorry for dragging you around town with me, Neal," she began, setting her spoon on her plate. She was peeved. The perfect gift idea was lurking in the back of her mind somewhere, but it continued to elude her.
He quickly interrupted her apology. "Please, Elizabeth, it's fine. I'm having a good time. Really." And if that statement wasn't enough to warm her heart, his sincere smile definitely did the trick.
As Neal motioned for the waitress to bring the check – and adamantly refused to split the cost, because this was his treat and anything otherwise would be ungentlemanly of him, he'd said – Elizabeth watched him unabashedly. She tried not to laugh as he briefly conversed with the waitress, who was clearly smitten with the handsome young man.
Nearly eight years ago, when Peter had first started chasing Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth had felt two distinctly conflicting emotions. On the one hand, she was put-out by Neal's cleverness, which never failed to rescue him from Peter's grasp, which led to many lonely dinners without her husband. She wanted to hate him for his ingenuity because he stole Peter away from her more often than his FBI career had ever required of him, but she couldn't bring herself to detest his brilliance. He was a mystery to her. Everything she knew about him she had garnered through Peter's stakeout stories and the surveillance photos he shared with her – and she couldn't understand why Neal had chosen to spend his life on the wrong side of the law when he clearly had so many other talents to share with the world. It was baffling.
Now, though, having known him for almost a year, Elizabeth liked to think that she knew him a little better than he might suspect. Neal still baffled her a lot of the time, but this she merely attributed to his quirky personality. The things she had really come to understand about the man were more important than his breakfast cereal preference. Kate, for one, was someone Elizabeth wished she could have met. Neal, for all his faults as a con artist and his penchant for toeing the line between legal and not-so-legal, had broken out of prison to find his girlfriend, the love of his life. This fact, more than anything, more than his charm, street smarts, and wit, endeared him to her from the start.
Even several months in, Peter had had his doubts, and with good reason, about agreeing to the work-release program Neal had proposed. If he could con his way into the international ranks of thieves and seemingly effortlessly walk out of maximum security, what reason could he possibly have to trust that Neal wouldn't scamper off to pull his next great heist, leaving everyone who had believed in him in the dust?
Elizabeth gathered her purse as Neal signed the check, the both of them standing and maneuvering their way through the numerous little tables to the restaurant's entrance. Just as Elizabeth was about to reach for the door, Neal's hand shot out and pushed it open for her. He made a show of bowing exaggeratedly, stepping outside with a flourish and turning to address the "madam," inquiring as to which store she'd like to take in next.
Laughing amusedly, Elizabeth took the proffered arm and the pair sauntered noisily into the art gallery next door. Neal waltzed away to admire an exquisite landscape, and Elizabeth paused momentarily before joining him. She hadn't seen him this happy and worry-free in a long time, and it was a welcome sight to behold, especially compared to the state she'd found him in when she'd visited him in prison only a few short months ago.
She moved to stand beside him, marveling as Neal excitedly spouted a fountain of information about the painter and the piece, and considered the answer to her earlier unanswered question. Elizabeth felt safe in the presence of this convicted felon because she knew, no matter what the circumstance was, no matter how luring the temptation would be, Neal would never hurt those he cared about and loved, and she slipped her arm back into his, silently reminding him that he had a permanent place in their family.
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By four o'clock, they had yet to make any headway in finding a suitable present for Peter. Well, that wasn't entirely true – they had managed to rule out several possibilities, including asking an artist to paint a portrait of Elizabeth and Peter from a photograph she carried in her wallet. It wouldn't feel right without Peter standing next to her, Elizabeth had said. Whatever the perfect gift was, it needed to express her feelings without being tacky or corny.
They wandered into a professional photography studio, Neal chuckling at Elizabeth's expense. For a few minutes, they watched a photographer positioning a young couple in various poses, presumably to determine which styles they would choose for their wedding day. He glanced down at Elizabeth and was struck by her expression. She was staring intently in the direction of the bride- and groom-to-be without really seeing them, and Neal realized she was thinking of her own wedding.
It always comforted him that Elizabeth was an easy person to read. She didn't manipulate with malice nor did she disguise her feelings behind a façade. She approached each new individual in her life with a discerning mindset but offered honesty and earnestness. And the gift she had been searching for all day dawned upon him.
"I have an idea, Elizabeth, and I think you'll like it," he said. She diverted her gaze to his and looked hopeful at his words. "Why don't you put together some photos of you and Peter, you know, from special occasions?"
"Like a scrapbook?" She cocked her head to the side, considering. "But I've already done that."
He nodded. "Sort of, but maybe you could add something to really express your feelings." He wanted her to figure out the answer on her own, to let the emotions spill from her own heart.
"Like a letter!" Elizabeth exclaimed, eyes widening in anticipation. "Oh, Neal, that's perfect! Thank you!" She quieted somewhat. "Thank you, I mean that."
She engulfed him in a hug, which he warmly returned, then hurriedly bid him goodbye to catch the nearest taxi back home, thanking him profusely all the while.
Neal shut the door to the cab and watched it merge into the late-afternoon traffic, smiling and turning to leave the studio, winking at the happy couple as he exited.
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On Sunday morning, Peter Burke awoke to the sound of his wife preparing breakfast. He stretched, clambered out of bed, threw on an old pair of sweats, and walked downstairs to find Elizabeth setting the table. She beamed at him, drawing close for a long kiss. "Happy birthday, Peter!"
"Thank you, Elle. This looks great," he said, indicating the array of pancakes, muffins, and fresh fruit laid in front of him.
They settled in to eat and Elizabeth reached beneath her chair for Peter's present. Handing it to him, she said, "I hope you like this, Peter. Neal came up with the idea, actually."
He smiled. "So that's who you were with yesterday. I should've known. Thank you, honey." Ripping the wrapping paper off of the thin, heavy, square-shaped package, Peter stared in awe at the precious gift lying on top of his plate.
On the left half of the picture frame, Elizabeth had arranged four photographs, one from each of the most special moments in their life together: their first date at the Italian restaurant, Peter's proposal in the park, cutting the cake at their wedding, and celebrating their ten-year anniversary at a vacation destination. Peter grinned at the happy faces smiling at him from each of the pictures, but his attention was soon drawn to the letter on the right half of the frame. Elizabeth's cursive writing covered the majority of the page, which was decorated all around in a series of roses and vines.
Dear Peter, it read. Happy birthday! Before I write anything else, I want to put into words just how much I love you…
He looked up from the priceless object in his hands to meet his wife's eyes, at a loss for words. He simply leaned forward to place his lips over hers, trying to convey his deep appreciation for the gift and his immense fortune in having her in his life.
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Neal had downplayed his pleasure at being invited to Peter's birthday dinner when Elizabeth had called that morning. He was touched that she regarded him as family and he wondered whether Peter had made a fuss about having him in the house on the weekend without a case to work on.
Arriving at the Burkes' doorstep with a bottle of wine under one arm and holding a wrapped present with his other hand, Neal decided to soothe Peter's ire before it started up by ringing the doorbell. It was infinitely more fun to pick his way into their home, but even a semi-reformed con artist could deign to follow the "norm" of asking permission to enter on a special occasion such as a friend's birthday.
Elizabeth answered the door and ushered him inside, thanking him for the wine and bustling back into the kitchen. Peter was in the bathroom, so Neal took a seat on the couch, setting Peter's gift on the coffee table. He admired the Burkes' living room, abruptly noticing a new addition to the previously empty wall. He approached it slowly, awed at its simplistic beauty, and carefully read through the letter, tracing the Love, Elizabeth on the glass with his index finger. Hearing Peter's footsteps on the stairs, Neal quickly turned with a ready smirk and a snarky comment, wishing, not for the first time, that he and Kate could be sharing a meal with Peter and Elizabeth.
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After dinner, Elizabeth had remanded Peter and Neal to the couch while she washed the dishes. Normally, she'd enlist Neal's help with cleaning up – he always entertained her while cheerfully attending to whatever tasks she set for him in the kitchen. Tonight, though, she simply took her time loading the dishwasher, listening to the two men's conversation drift in through the swinging door.
"Aren't you going to open your present, Peter?" Neal sounded as though he really wanted Peter to do as he asked.
"No, not with you still here." Peter sounded annoyed, but Elizabeth was sure that he was trying to hide an affectionate smile. "I bet it's something embarrassing and I don't need you and Elle poking fun at me." Elizabeth had to choke back a laugh at this.
"C'mon, Peter, it's nothing bad, I swear. Nothing illegal, either." She was amazed at how well Neal could work the innocence into his voice. "Peter…"
"Okay, fine." The sound of wrapping paper being removed, then – "Neal!" And suddenly, Neal was in the kitchen.
"Hi, Elizabeth. Need any help?" He smiled winningly at her. Peter came barging in a moment later, grumbling and carrying a framed poster of sorts. Upon closer inspection, Elizabeth burst into laughter. She covered her mouth with both hands, attempting to stifle her laughter, but with Neal standing next to her and about to burst at the seams, she was a lost cause.
Peter glared. "What am I supposed to do with this, Neal? I can't put this up in my house!" He gestured with his right hand to the frame he held in his left. The offending object was a WANTED poster, featuring both Neal and Peter's mug shots and beneath the duo's pictures were the words THE INFAMOUS CAFFREY AND BURKE, ALLEGED BANK ROBBERS.
Neal put a mock-hurt look upon his face. "You don't like it, Peter? I put a lot of thought into this! And if you can't put it up in your house, why not hang it in your office at the Bureau?"
As her husband and his partner bickered and bantered their way back into the living room, Elizabeth picked up the card still nestled inside the wrapping paper. The front featured a quaint countryside home surrounded by colorful gardens and shady trees. Flipping it open, she read:
Dear Peter and Elizabeth,
Happy birthday to my partner and friend and thank you to the most beautiful shopping companion I've ever had the pleasure of accompanying.
XOXO,
Neal
Feeling inexplicably light-hearted, Elizabeth displayed the card on a nearby bookshelf for safekeeping. She poked her head around the kitchen door and couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face as Peter and Neal immediately shut up at the prospect of a chocolate birthday cake.
Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism is always welcomed and appreciated.
