Free Write #4

Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar. I'm just playing for a little bit. So stop sending threats of lawsuits. Or if you want to continue, have Matt Bomer deliver them.

It was almost 11 p.m. before Peter decided to call it a night. He turned off the lights in his office and started for the stairs. He needed to go downstairs to records to collect Neal, since he was the man's ride home for today. As he walked towards the stairs, he thought about what had happened after he had left Agent White in the conference room.

For the rest of the day, he had kept Neal away from White by having Neal running between the office and the records room. Neal had asked why Peter suddenly needed him to play fetch, but Peter had avoided the question with a simple, "because I said so."

The truth however, was that Peter simply didn't know why he avoided telling Neal the truth. Neal would have understood that Peter was trying to protect him, but Peter didn't think he would have understood why White thought he was expendable as piece of scrap paper. "Then again Neal knows that many of the agents dislike him because of his ex-con status," Peter thought, thinking of the various agents in the office who glared at Neal every time he smiled and said good morning to them. There were even some who would come to Peter to confer about intersecting cases and wouldn't even acknowledge that Neal was in the room. "He probably would just shrug it off, smile and go ahead with the case…"

Peter stopped suddenly as he went through the door to the stairwell as he realized just why he was upset. "Neal would still go through it," Peter said out loud, his voice echoing slightly in the closed in stairwell. Walking over to the head of the stairs, he slowly sank down to where he could sit on the top steps. For five minutes he sat there, thinking about the con-man that he himself and practically every agent on staff always associated with as being just another criminal, willing to do whatever to get what he wanted. "Everything except actually hurt someone," he whispered, thinking about all the times the blue-eyed man had stated that he hated guns. "He never carries and White thinks that he should be sent in among guys that would probably at home among cannibals."

"Well, at least I stopped that one," he thought, getting up and starting down the stairs. "White will just have to find some other way to stop the gang."

The records room was two floors down from his office, so it didn't take long for Peter to reach it. He exited the stairs, and was surprised to see his boss, Reese Hughes waiting for him just outside the records room door. Peter started smiled as he walked towards the older man, but was surprised when his boss held up a hand. "Peter, I'm sorry," Hughes started. Peter looked confused as he glanced at the records door, surprised to see that the lights were turned off.

"Caffrey wouldn't be sitting in there in the dark," he realized. He looked backed at his boss, questions in his eyes. "What happened," he demanded.

"White called in a few of his own favors," Hughes explained, avoiding looking in his subordinate's eyes. After two years, he still was uncertain of the partnership between his best agent and a master con, but somehow those two made it work. And Hughes did have to admit that Caffrey seemed to be loyal to Burke. In return, Burke was very protective of Caffrey. It was the knowledge of that protective streak that had made Hughes fight so hard trying to keep Caffrey off the case when White's superior had called him.

"Peter, I'm sorry but they didn't give me any choice," Hughes stated, finally looking Burke in the eye. "I managed to get White to agree to give Caffrey the full case file. He'll know what he's getting into."

"I've got to go down there," Peter started, but Hughes held up his hand again.

"White said if he sees you there, he'll arrest you, and his superior agreed."

"But…"

"I will call you tomorrow," Hughes interrupted firmly. "Until then, go home and get some rest."

"You aren't giving any choice are you?"

"No"

"Fine," Peter sighed, accepting the inevitable. He turned to leave and said, "Call me the second there's news.

Hughes nodded as he watched the other man leave.

Peter obeyed his superior's instructions, going home. El was already asleep by the time he joined her in bed. He laid there staring at the ceiling, wondering for an hour at about what was happening, and what could happen when the agent watching Neal's back didn't actually care. Finally, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

RING

RING

It was 3:28 in the morning when the phone started ringing. Peter woke up disoriented for a moment, El already reaching across him for the phone on the nightstand, eyes still closed in sleep.

Seeing that it was his phone in her hand, he quickly snagged it out of her grip. Flipping it open, he held it up to his ear saying, "Burke."

Peter went still as he listened to the voice on the other end. El, now fully awake, waited for him to speak as he closed the phone and stared at it in his hand for a moment.

"What's wrong," she asked, voice groggy with sleep.

"Neal's in transport to the hospital," he said, getting up and hurrying to get dressed. He reached for his pants, as he explained, "Hughes didn't know everything, but he says it's bad."

He turned to grab a shirt out of the closet only to find El already handing him one, half dressed herself. "You let Satchmo out, I'll get the car," she said hurrying to the door as she pulled on her shirt.