Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: I actually wrote this tag before I ever listened to the commentary of the episode. Quite a surprise when I finally did.

Vital Signs

Neal was a hassle. Peter knew he had said it before but it was worth repeating: Neal. Was. A. Hassle. And a sneaky little bastard of a con artist at that. Even drugged. Especially drugged, probably. Unfortunately knowing it didn't save him from falling for those wide, innocent puppy-dog eyes every DAMN time, now did it?

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and then peered again through the cracked door of the unoccupied office he had found. The security desk for this floor was few steps down the hallway, the technician sitting behind it staring intently at his screen while behind him Melissa and Dr. Powell conversed in hushed tones.

Biting his lips Peter watched as they parted and walked away in different directions. More people passed his hiding place, the guard gave no sign of going to the bathroom anytime soon. He thought furiously. Any second now they would discover that Neal was gone and then he would never stand a chance of getting that darn security tape OR getting both of them out quietly. And he needed that tape. As much as Neal was a hassle – not to mention having landed him in the doghouse with El as well, thank you very much! – he really didn't want to see him go back to prison over what was essentially a good if misguided deed. Never mind HE was probably on tape as well. He could just imagine Hughes's face when presented with that.

Okay, what to do, what to do…? Under normal circumstances he would just flash his badge but that was out of the question here. Which left him only one option. A really, really frightening option. He had to ask himself: What would Neal do? And boy, did he know the answer to that one.

Sighing Peter took a moment to arrange his suit jacket the way he needed it, firmly set his face and slipped out into the hallway. The man at the security desk glanced up as he approached with purposeful steps then sat up straighter. Peter stopped right at the edge of his table and gave him a hard stare.

"Dr. Powell sends me to collect all footage of the man who went into his office."

The security guard hesitated for a second then typed some commands. An agonizingly long time seemed to pass as the small tape drive whirred and clicked. Finally the guard extracted the tape and handed it over. Peter deliberately held it in his outstretched hand, doing his best to make his expression cold and unapproachable as he towered over the sitting man.

"This the only copy you made so far?"

"Yes…?"

"Good. Then delete today's file for this floor. And disable all security cameras for it and the left stairwell."

"What? But that's against –"

"Order of Dr. Powell."

The man opened his mouth to protest further but Peter's authoritative tone gave him pause. As did his grim stare. His gaze wandered to the conspicuously inconspicuous bulge under his left armpit. Swallowing visibly the guard nodded.

"Delete today's file and disable security cameras for this floor. Yes, sir."

"Good." Peter kept his voice dangerously soft. He loomed a moment longer as the man worked then turned sharply and strode down the hallway.

As soon has he had rounded a corner he staggered against the wall and blew out a long breath.