This is a work of fanfiction, for entertainment purposes only. The characters and concepts of White Collar do not belong to me, but to their creators.

A/N: After a weekend of pondering, speculating, and theorizing over last week's fall finale, it was either write something or go insane. Be forewarned: spoilers for "Free Fall" included.


Free Fallout

by

Cheride

Peter twisted the cap off a bottle of beer, then settled more comfortably onto the sofa. He twirled the ring on his pinky round and round, anxiously awaiting a report. "Don't you have anything yet?" he asked, glaring into the dining room where Neal was sitting at the table, hunched over a laptop computer.

"I thought you said a beer would help you relax," Neal snapped back. "Besides, there's nothing new yet; just a lot of shock and disbelief." He glanced back across at his frazzled partner and relented just a little. "But relax; it's only been about an hour. It'll take a while for them to really start thinking it through."

"I can't believe they have to think it through at all! Do they really think I could be the bad guy in all of this? I mean, haven't they been watching?"

"Oh, they've been watching," Neal assured him as he clicked over to a new web page. He checked his facts quickly, then reported, "Almost four and a half million last week."

"Still down from the pilot," Peter grumbled. He kicked off his shoes and stretched his legs up onto the sofa. "That's undoubtedly how I got dragged into this situation—a good cliffhanger is almost a surefire ticket to a ratings boost next year."

Caffrey frowned, still surfing the web. "It's not like you're the only one with a problem, Peter. I'm the one apparently being lied to by the one guy in the government I thought I could trust. I didn't even have Moz pull your file. So either I get to go around looking like some kinda clueless schmuck, or this could be the last evening we spend together for a while."

Peter hitched an eyebrow upwards. "What're you talking about?"

"Well, if I'm not a clueless schmuck, then I'll have to figure out it's been you behind my problems all along, and then I'm gonna have to run."

"Hm."

There was a moment of silence, while the partners contemplated that possible future.

"Neal—"

"Ah-ha!" Caffrey suddenly cried out. "Now we're talking."

"What? Spill it."

"The boards are really lighting up now," he said with a blinding smile. "There are enough theories rolling in to keep even Mozzie happy for a while."

"But are they going to keep watching?" Burke insisted.

"Ah . . ."

"What does that mean?" Burke pushed himself to his feet and hurried over to the table. "What's going on?"

"The posts are coming in pretty fast now," Neal explained. He looked up at the older man. "They seem kind of angry."

"I knew it!" Burke smacked a fist into his open palm. "Dammit!"

"Calm down," Caffrey admonished. "It's early; I'm still reading." Then he chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Peter demanded. "This is our future you're dealing with, ya know."

Neal shook his head with a grin. "It's just some of their ideas," he replied. He kept scrolling through the screen. "I think my favorite so far is that you and Mozzie are having an affair, and conspiring to get my stash of loot."

The agent rubbed his forehead in consternation. "I don't know what the boss was thinking," he lamented.

Caffrey took a break from the screen. "Hughes?" he wondered. "I thought he was actually starting to seem like kind of a stand up guy."

"Not Hughes," Peter snapped. He looked around furtively, then dropped into the chair next to Neal. Leaning close to the younger man, he whispered conspiratorially, "Jeff."

"Oh." Neal looked around too, suddenly wary. He lowered his voice to match his partner. "I don't think you ought to second guess him, man. At least things are up in the air right now; it can still work out okay. You go making waves and the guy could put you in front of a bullet or something."

"He's not gonna do that," Burke objected strongly. But then he paused. "Would he?"

Neal just shrugged. "I dunno. He's trying to get picked up for a second season."

Peter huffed out a breath. "Yeah. Okay. I didn't say anything."

Caffrey clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man." He examined the tension on the face of his recent partner. "This is really getting to you, isn't it?" he asked kindly.

There was silence for a long minute, then Peter gave his head a single nod. "I'm supposed to be the good guy," he said sadly. "You're supposed to be the questionable one."

"I'm going to try not to be insulted by that," the younger man grinned. "Especially since I'm not the one being investigated by OPR."

At Burke's grimace, he continued quickly. "But, listen, why don't you go upstairs and take a shower. I'll keep an eye on this stuff and we'll see what's going on. You'll feel better if you take a break."

"You could be right. You don't mind reading over all this crap yourself?"

"Nah. You go on. You'll be better company after."

Burke crooked a small, apologetic grin, then pushed himself away from the table and headed upstairs.

Caffrey continued to browse the various internet chat rooms, and was still reading an hour later when Peter returned. "Feel better?" he asked, with a quick glance.

"Fine." Peter slid into his previous chair and gestured at the computer. "Anything yet?"

"Things are heating up," he replied with a small grin. Then he cast a quick glance around the room before adding, "The boss is fanning the flames a little."

Burke paled a little. "Yeah? What's he have to say?"

"I don't know," Neal began slowly, "none of it's very clear. But I think he's going to let you off the hook." He turned the laptop around so that Peter could see the screen. "Scroll up a little and see what he's been tweeting."

Peter leaned forward, but then paused. "Tweeting?"

Neal chuckled. "Never mind. Just read."

The men were briefly quiet as Burke scanned the screen, then he turned back to his partner. "So things aren't what they seem? That's a relief." His eyes met the younger blue pair before him. "And I knew I wouldn't betray you."

"The important thing, Peter, is that I knew it."

Peter smiled gently. "Like you said, you didn't even have Haversham pull my file. I should've thanked you for that. I know trusting me isn't easy, especially now, with that Fowler guy running around."

"Don't go getting all sappy on me, Peter; we're not out of the woods yet."

"What do you mean? You said Jeff," he automatically dropped his voice to a whisper at the mention of the name, "said—"

"What I said," the consultant interrupted, "is that he's fanning the flames. He put up all these cryptic comments, making it seem like no one should worry about you, but then he took 'em all down again. Nobody knows what to think any more."

Burke leaned back in the chair, shoving the computer away. "So we're no better off than we were before," he said bitterly. "Still don't have any idea what's going to happen." Then he seemed to remember something. "But what about the fans? What do they think?"

"Well . . ." Caffrey shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "They're still surprised," he began slowly.

"And?"

"But a lot of them think you've had some ulterior motive all along. But not," he added quickly, "for any kind of malicious reasons. Most of them won't believe that you're truly a bad guy, but a lot of them do think you might've been lying to me, maybe trying to get something from me. Some sort of operation, or something."

Burke's eyes widened. "I wouldn't do that," he insisted, though he had lost some of his earlier conviction. He looked back to his partner for support. "Would I?" He pointed at the computer. "And they think it's okay if I would?"

Neal shrugged. "They're willing to wait and see how it plays out. They seem to think it could be an interesting twist."

"So we might not be working together anymore?"

"Maybe not for a while."

"And you really might have to run?"

"I might," Caffrey agreed sadly.

"But your tracker—"

"We've already got the answer to that," Neal broke in. "If the data center is the weak link in your security system, Mozzie's just the guy to hook me up."

Burke shook his head slowly. "It just doesn't seem right," he complained. "We've been turning into a pretty good team."

"Quite the budding bromance," the younger man agreed. "But at least they're going to keep watching."

"There is that," Peter agreed. "I guess Jeff got that part right." Both men looked carefully around the room at the mention of their creator's name. "I just hope he finds a way to put all these pieces together pretty quickly. I'd rather not be the deceptive one for too long."

"Yeah, well I hope he finds a way to get me back together with Kate. I don't want her to be the deceptive one."

"Better me than her?" The older man sounded hurt.

"She's prettier," Neal said, as if it should explain everything.

"A point," Peter conceded. "I think I need another beer," he announced, rising to his feet. "You?"

"Couldn't hurt."

The agent returned a minute later, two bottles in hand. He handed one over to Caffrey, and they tossed the lids aside, letting them clatter to the tabletop.

"What shall we drink to?" Neal asked, holding his bottle aloft. "Men of integrity? Reunions with lost loves? Partners? A second season?"

"Maybe just that things turn out for the best," Peter suggested, "for everyone."

Caffrey was nodding slowly. "Yeah," he agreed, "for the best."

The glass clinked and both men pulled a long and hopeful draw from their bottle. But then Neal raised his again. "One more."

Burke was willing, and lifted his to join the salute. "Okay."

"January 19th," Caffrey said simply.

Peter smiled in hopeful understanding. "I'll drink to that."