Here's a new story! White Collar is one of my favorite shows, so, naturally, there's got to be some drama, some suspense, some humor, and some angst ;) Hope you all enjoy! Leave me a review/fav/follow!
"Let the poor man rest, Peter!" June followed the FBI agent as he waved her off, stepping outside onto Neal's tremendous outdoor terrace. It provided a three hundred sixty degree view of downtown New York City and drew his breath every time he laid eyes on the sight.
"He's fine, June, he's Neal," Peter grinned slightly, "the man managed to steal multi million dollar art with carrier pigeons, I'm confident he can handle this case."
"But it's not just this case, Peter," June argued fervently, her dramatic flare filtering into her words, "give him a day at least, some sleep, proper food. It'll make a world of a difference."
"June, I appreciate your concern for him, but Neal is on a strict contract. There is no room for a day off when you're dealing with a convict and the Federal Bureau of Investigation. My hands are tied, Hughes will have my ass if I don't catch Keller this time."
"But Peter-"
"He slipped through my fingers once, June, I can't let that happen again, I can't," Peter's unwavering gaze challenged June's. She held it for a few seconds then looked at the floor in concession, "It's for Neal's safety as well as the rest of New York's."
"I guess individual opinion doesn't hold the same value it used to," June pursed her lips as she walked to the door, wringing her hands, "Agent Burke, I plead with you…look after Neal, he'll deny he needs your help but keep a close eye."
"I hear you, June, thank you. I'll make sure I will."
She dipped her head, eyes still holding an unaccomplished, worried stare, before she turned and retreated down to her apartment. When Peter was sure she was gone, he exhaled deeply and ran a hand through his aching scalp. Where was Neal? He took a look at his watch and saw it was 9:15 AM. Caffrey was 15 minutes late for their usual meeting time, and he was almost never late. Peter must've let the time slip by when he was talking with June.
"All right, Neal," Peter huffed, "you're late, that means it's time to take out your tracker data. Where'd you run to this time?"
He fished his work phone from his pocket, where an application would document the con's location. Before he accessed it, a message beeped across his screen from Neal:
Meet you at HQ, 9:30 your office. Thx.
N.C.
Burke felt a flitter of suspicion tingle in the back of his mind, but he dismissed it. He pocketed the phone, grabbed his briefcase, and walked out of the luxurious suite to get to work.
Peter tapped his foot against the elevator floor as it glided to an easy stop at the White Collar Division floor. He stepped out of the car and felt a relaxing breath escape from within when he stepped onto his familiar floor. There was something missing though: Neal's desk was empty. It was like looking at that one strand of hair out of place, or that one crooked teeth in that perfect row of white enamel. He felt something tick within, a small irk ignite inside him. When Neal got in, he'd make sure to have a nice scolding about his sudden lack for the concept of timeliness.
"Jones," Peter brushed his feelings aside and looked at one of his most trusted agents, "my office."
"Sure thing, Peter," he nodded diligently, "be right there."
Burke set his briefcase down on his desk with an irritated sigh before Jones closed the glass door behind him and leaned against one of the chairs.
"Thanks for being here, Jones," he huffed under his breath.
The agent looked slightly taken aback, "Of-of course, Peter, why wouldn't I be here?"
"Because you know the importance and responsibility this job entails," Burke's eyes wandered behind Jones and to the empty desk that was bugging his brain, "unlike some people."
Jones caught Peter's eye and turned around, saw the desk, and turned back with a knowing smile.
"Caffrey," Clint nodded, "I should've known, the only time you really get upset before we've even got a case is when he's around. What's the situation this time?"
"He's not here!" Burke threw his hands in the air, "Almost ten o'clock and he doesn't have the respect to make it up the stairs and come to work every morning! Is that mansion apartment too hard to live in? How about the thousand dollar suits he wears everyday, are those just not cutting it anymore? Jesus, it's like babysitting an infant!"
"Peter-"
"And it's not just this, no way! He has other priorities, like thieving and scheming for his own needs before the FBI's and what do I do? I cover him every time! He could've been thrown back into jail the second week he got here, but why do I save him, Jones, why?"
"Uh, boss-"
"Even worse is the little guy, Mozzie! Gosh, sometimes I could just wrap my hands around his neck and-argh! I don't get any gratitude from him, any thanks for my efforts and now he has the audacity to show up late to work and send me a text to when he can leisurely walk in and out!"
"Agent Burke!"
Peter looked up at Jones, who had an amused grin on his face, "Guess who just rolled in."
Burke's eyes flitted behind Jones' figure again and he saw Caffrey, all nice and innocent, sitting at his desk, reviewing files like he'd been there all morning. Peter slammed his mug on his desk, pushed himself out from behind his desk, and walked out sternly.
It was as if the temperature dropped a few degrees as Peter made his way down the main isle quickly. All heads turned to him, then to his target, and back again. It was like watching a showdown of the ages, and Burke was ready to deliver. Neal didn't looked up, too engrossed in his files, until the tall, looming for of Peter cast a shadow over his work. He looked up.
"Oh, hey, Peter," he said with a white smile.
"My office, now," his handler didn't say another word as he turned around, wide shoulders retreating back up the stairs and to his office where he waited tersely yet patiently.
Neal felt his heart flutter, like that feeling when you know you've done something wrong and you're just waiting for your parent to scold you.
"You did it this time, Caffrey."
"Dead meat."
"Nice knowing you, Neal."
It was like the walk on death row as he held himself tall and followed Burke's path into his office. He made sure the glass was closed behind him, knowing full well the entire White Collar floor was watching intently for Burke to explode.
Peter didn't say anything for a few seconds as Neal looked down at his shoes. He stood up, walked past the ex-con and stuck his head out the door, "Back to work, people, we've still got bad guys to catch!"
They all returned to their previous jobs reluctantly, but kept one eye on the office as they did so.
"Peter-"
"Stop it, Neal, I don't want to hear it."
"But how am I supposed to explain what-"
"Don't," Burke shook his head, "with you, the less I know, the better."
"Okay," Caffrey nodded, "but can I say one thing?"
"Fine."
"I'm sorry."
"For?"
"Not being on time this morning."
"You think that's all I'm upset about, Neal?"
He still wasn't looking up, "I don't know, maybe-"
"No, Caffrey, I'm upset that time and time again you disrespect the rules laid out for you. I got you out of prison, Neal, so you could start over and this is how you treat the parameters concerning your release? At any time if someone catches you, it's not just you that goes out it's me too. Would you want that to happen?"
"No."
"Would you want me to come home to Elizabeth and tell her some articulate story where I covered your foolishness one more time, but we had to pay the price?"
"No," this time he looked up, a serious expression on his face.
"Would you-?"
Peter stopped short, he studied Caffrey's face. Neal saw this, eyes widening just a little, as he looked down.
"Neal."
"What?"
"Look up."
"Why?"
"What's that on your face? Is-is that make up?"
"What? No!"
"Caffrey."
Peter stood up, put a hand under the con's chin, and forced him to look under the light.
"Peter, what the heck!"
"Neal, you're wearing concealer. Why?"
"How do you know?"
'I've been living with a woman for a long time, I know these things. Now, answer my question."
"I thought you didn't want to hear about what happened last night."
"Neal!"
"Okay, fine! Yes, I'm wearing concealer!"
"Who did it?"
"What, the make up? Mozzie, we didn't have a lot of time so-"
"No, not the make up, who hit you?"
"Excuse me?"
"I've seen my fair share of shiners in my day, Neal, and yours looks pretty bad and fresh. Who did it? Someone I should be concerned about? Keller?"
"No, Peter, calm down, all right? It's nothing, no one-"
"Neal."
"I swear to you, I was walking out of the subway, a guy tried lifting my wallet, I caught him, he punched me, then ran away. Check the cameras, it's all true."
"Where were you going?"
"Home."
"From?"
"One of Mozzie's hideouts."
"That's not what happened, Neal, I know you. You're lying."
Caffrey stood up, suddenly angry, Peter looked at him and pursed his lips. He'd gone too far.
"I don't need you breathing down my neck every morning, okay, Peter? Get off my back, it was nothing, and I handled it."
"Neal, I didn't mean-"
"I don't care what you mean, Peter, I'm just here to take the years off my sentence, nothing more and nothing less."
Now, Peter knew that was a lie.
"So, if it's all right with you, Agent Burke, can I get back to work?"
"Yeah sure, Neal, you can get back to work."
Without another word, the ex-con stormed out of the office and walked to the elevator. His glaring blue eyes met Peter's as the doors slid shut.
Stay tuned! The story will really pick up! Thanks for reading!