Quid Pro Quo
Summary: Peter gets what he wants, but some things come at a price.
A/N: Wow, this is the first White Collar idea I've had in ages.
Spoilers: This fic takes place post 3x10 Countdown.
Unbeta'd, but there shouldn't be that many mistakes (I hope none, but typos are mine as always).
Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar.
Elizabeth returns to her husband on a Tuesday.
The streets surrounding their home are unusually quiet and the few people walking them are unaware of the turmoil inhabiting a certain Peter Burke. The FBI agent will never give up on finding his wife, even if reality kicks in every once in a while to tell him that it has been three weeks.
It's the end of the world, but Peter doesn't quit. He can't. It doesn't matter that his life collapses while he searches. His job is suddenly not as important anymore, just a tool to help find his hon.
So when the doorbell rings and Peter gets up to find out who's brave enough to bother him, he doesn't let go of the case folder. He takes it with him to the door as if it's attached to his hand just like his hand is attached to his arm and the rest of his body.
Peter stops breathing and drops the bundle of paper. Inhaling shouldn't be this difficult, but it's not every day you're granted another chance at a perfect life.
This is not real.
Elizabeth looks relatively unharmed and… simply beautiful even while she's covered with dirt and few (yet too many) bruises. This is not how he had envisioned this moment.
Peter does the first thing which comes to mind and touches his wife's face, just to make sure she's really standing in front of him in the door opening. He can see the tears making their way down her cheeks as she leans closer and presses her lips against his.
"I missed you," she whispers.
"I missed you too," he returns the words before wrapping his right arm around her waist and leading her to the kitchen to pour her a glass of water. He's not letting her out of his sight. Not again.
When they're sitting on the couch, still unwilling to let go of each other, Peter asks the one question the agent in him would like an answer to.
"How did you escape?"
Her eyes are still watery when she looks up. "I didn't."
"He let you go?" He refuses to use the name Keller, it would only make asking questions more difficult.
Elizabeth is just as confused as he is.
"Did he say anything?"
She hides a sniffle behind her hand as she rubs her face. Peter knows his wife wants nothing more than a shower and a good night's rest. He wants to strangle Keller. She shouldn't look this tired, but there's more to this story and unfortunately it can't wait till tomorrow morning.
"Quid pro quo," El replies.
Suddenly, there's a bitter taste in Peter's mouth. All of this makes no sense. Unless… He doesn't let go of Elizabeth, holding on to her hand as he leans forward to snatch his cell phone from the coffee table.
"Hon?"
Peter knows his consultant won't be picking up the phone. He knows. Locking eyes with El, Peter presses the one button that should connect him to Neal.
The voice he hears on the other side of the line makes him want to crush the phone he's holding and even while this means his worries are founded, he can't help hoping that Neal's currently drinking a glass of fine wine in a sunny country somewhere far away. It's ridiculous because he doesn't want his consultant to return to his criminal life, but anything's better than spending time with Keller.
"You're faster than I give you credit for, Burke."
Peter remains silent.
"You have what you want and it looks like I'll be getting what I want, but I guess you already know that. Don't come looking for me. You'll regret it."
It's an obvious threat and the connection dies only a second later.
He wants to blame Neal for everything, because it's just easier that way and because Neal is not entirely innocent either. The truth is that he can't bring himself to send negative thoughts his partner's way, because when it comes to Neal Caffrey he's just as wrong as he's ever been right.
The end or to be continued?
A/N: I really don't know what to do. I want to write more (which might take me forever and this fic may or may not turn into a monster), but this kind of feels like it can stay a small ficlet as well. I'd love to know what you think.