Coffee was getting cold. And every self-respecting person knows that cold coffee in the morning is even worse than no coffee. Neal Caffrey was never a man who would waste a perfectly good cup of coffee by letting it get cold. But here he was – sitting and staring in front of him, while his coffee was slowly turning into a dark tasteless liquid.
The sun was slowly rising, giving the city that never sleeps its warmth and happiness. The first rays kissed the buildings' tops, colouring the roofs with pink light. Neal loved looking at the sunrise as much as he loved his designer clothes. But now he was staring into his cup full of cold coffee.
Peter silently watched the young man, hoping against hope that this morning would be different, that Neal would manage to get out of his own personal hell and would finally give the agent his real, mischevious smile. It's been three months and twenty-seven days since Kate died. One hundred and eighteen days since Neal stopped smiling. A little more than two thousand eight hundred and thirty-two hours since Peter didn't have to worry about his consultant.
Agent Burke never approved of Kate. She was the reason Neal escaped prison and got himself a longer sentence. And now she was the reason of Neal's slumped shoulders and lifeless eyes. Peter watched as Neal shivered under the attack of the cold wind and was about to call the younger man but stopped himself from doing that.
They went over this routine every day. Peter would get up earlier than usual and under the worried looks from his wife would hurry to pick up Neal from June's. He would always find Caffrey sitting outside, staring at his cold coffee. But as soon as Peter let Neal know of his presence, the younger man would smile and look his usual elegant and confident self. But Peter knew. Peter always knew that it was just another con.
Neal ran fingers through his hair and turned to look at Peter. For the moment the agent thought that he saw something comparable to an emotion on Neal's face, but even if it was there it was gone in a blink of an eye. Instead another fake smile was plastered across Neal's face.
"Morning, Peter!"
"Good morning, Neal."
"Your one and only jacket looks good on you today."
Peter didn't bother to answer and continued walking towards the car.
"Hey, Peter."
Neal's voice made the agent freeze. He turned to look at the younger man, who lost his smile.
"Peter, I was wondering if we could get some coffee on the way to the office. Some really hot coffee. I didn't have any today."
Peter nodded not trusting himself to speak. Things would get better eventually and hot coffee would sure bring some colours into their lives. He just wondered how did that simple everyday beverage became the sign of hope.
Meanwhile Neal glanced at the sky.
"I remember how much you hated coffee, Kate. But it's time to for me to move on. I need to revenge your death and if the thing you hated so much would help me to do that, I am willing to take it."