A/N: It's National Talk in an Elevator Day and the perfect excuse to celebrate White Collar today! This is set pre-series, so some of the canon may be a little iffy. Also, the Skywalk at the CN Tower is mentioned in this story. It's a thing, it wasn't at the time, but it made a better story. Enjoy my first foray into White Collar fanfiction!
The hallway was empty and the windows were dark. The sun had gone down hours before and most people had left to go somewhere else, either sightseeing or eating a meal on solid ground. The only sound echoing through the empty space was a hushed buzz of conversation and quiet classical music. A group of people passed in and out, pulling jackets and gloves and hats closer to their skin against the bitter Canadian winter. After this group disappeared into elevators and restaurants, two more people emerged.
The two, a man and woman, rushed inside. The woman was wrapped in a red coat with matching mittens and beanie. Her blue eyes sparkled and her pale face was red. Behind her, the man was in similar attire and similarly flushed. The two were holding hands and laughing. The woman pulled her boyfriend behind her until they reached the elevator bay.
The woman managed to collect herself long enough to complain. "It's freezing out there!"
"It is pretty cold," her boyfriend said, blowing on his hands. He rubbed her upper arms for her, giving his warmth to her. "But, you can't say that wasn't fun."
A relentless peal of laughter burst from her throat. She pushed him away and beamed at him. "Neal! That was terrifying!"
Neal hid a smile and pressed the button to summon an elevator. He gave Kate a look, his eyebrows raised. "You've done way more dangerous things with much less reliable harnesses." He stepped back, the button glowing.
She crossed her arms. "I wasn't on the edge of a 116-story free fall."
Neal laughed and tipped his head toward her. "You've got me there."
The two were alone and lapsed into a comfortable silence. Kate looked at the ground and uncrossed her arms. Her mittened hand slipped into Neal's gloved one. He squeezed, an unspoken reassurance passing through them. Neal's confidence and Kate's optimism passed through each other, leaving the couple delighted to be together.
However, it didn't take long for Neal to grow bored. His mind craved constant stimulation, and waiting for an elevator isn't very interesting. He hummed absently, a tune that sounded something like a boy band song (albeit in the wrong key). Kate joined in humming before deciding she was also bored. She started dancing to Neal's humming. Neal had zoned out and started staring into space. Kate smiled, lifted his arm, and spun herself around and then back into Neal's arms. She pecked Neal's cheek, snapping him back to reality.
Neal hugged her. "Kate! People could see us."
She laughed. "And? We're 20. It's time to live!"
It was Neal's turn to laugh. "We're making a scene," he reminded her. "People will remember us."
Kate looked over her shoulders and then his. She gave Neal a blank stare. "No one's here." She tugged his hand. "Come on, let's have fun!"
Neal rolled his eyes. As much as Kate's enthusiasm was adorable and infectious, it could be too much at times. This was one of those times. Neal was overwhelmed, thinking over their plan again and again, and Kate was acting like a five-year-old. But, Neal was a loving boyfriend, not just playing the part. He lifted his arm and spun her in circles. She shrieked with laughter as she whirled around and around. At least she's enjoying herself, Neal thought.
She let go of Neal's hand and immediately fell to the ground. Neal stifled a laugh and held out a hand. After pulling herself up, Kate lost her balance again, this time crashing into Neal's chest.
"That was too much," she moaned, closing her eyes. "The room is spinning."
"Are you okay? Can you stand?" As much as Neal was starting to get fed up, he still loved Kate. If she was hurt, he didn't know what he'd do.
She nodded. "I'm fine. I'll just hold on to you."
She laid her arm over Neal's shoulders. He snaked an arm around her waist and held her tight to his side. Her head fell onto Neal's shoulder. The two stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Finally, ding. The elevator arrived. The doors slid open and the happy couple entered, Kate still clinging on to Neal, her head still spinning.
A man suddenly came out of the restaurant down the hall, his hand in the air. He started running towards the elevator. "Hold the elevator!"
Neal pecked Kate's cheek and separated himself from her. She reached for the rail and gripped it tightly. The doors started to close. Neal shoved his hand in front of them. The doors opened again. Neal stayed there, holding the door, as the man ran down the hall into the elevator. He entered the elevator and stood on the opposite side from Kate.
"Thank you," he said, fixing his jacket.
Neal removed his hand and the doors closed. "No problem," he said with a smile. "Ground floor?"
The man nodded. "Yeah."
Neal pressed the button labelled "G." It lit up, glowing a dim yellow. Three passengers all going to the ground floor. It was late, and there weren't many people in the building, so the ride shouldn't take too long. Kate carefully let go of the railing and tried to stand on her own. Surprisingly, she stayed upright and the world wasn't spinning in her eyes. Finally got over it, she thought.
"What do you want to eat?" she blurted out. She gave Neal a smile. "I'm kinda hungry."
He paused. "What do you want?" Neal took her hand, sending his confidence into her.
She took his hand back and thought for a few seconds. She shrugged. "I don't know what's around."
Neal nodded absently before turning to the stranger. "Do you know any good restaurants around?" Neal asked him. "We're from out of town."
He shook his head. "No, I am too."
Neal raised his eyebrows. Now, he was interested. What were the odds of all three of them being American? "Oh, you are? Where're you from?"
"New York," the stranger answered immediately.
Neal and Kate shared a look. Apparently, the odds were pretty good. "So are we," Kate eagerly replied, a large smile painting across her face. "What part?"
"Queens."
Kate giggled. "We're from Manhattan."
"Too rich for my blood," the stranger replied with a smile. "Vacation?"
"Yeah, Christmas vacation. We're staying till New Year's." Kate leaned against the back of the elevator and glanced at Neal. Your turn.
"Having fun?"
Neal nodded. "What brings you up here? Toronto's pretty far away from Queens."
"My wife," the stranger said as an explanation. "She's an event planner. She has a wedding reception or something up at the 360 and told me to leave." He gave a smile, knowing how awkward that explanation sounded, although completely truthful.
Neal smiled and Kate made a valiant effort to stifle her laughter. She failed and let out a chuckle. The man looked at her. She waved her hand, trying to tell him she was fine. Neal took that as his cue to take over pleasantries.
"I'm Neal." Kate rested her head on Neal's shoulder. Neal held up their joined hands to gesture to her. "She's Kate."
"His girlfriend." The two let go of each other's hands.
"Peter," the stranger introduced himself. He held out his hand for a handshake, the default greeting of all New Yorkers. The three exchanged handshakes and considered themselves acquainted. "That's enough about me. What do you do for a living?"
Neal and Kate shared a brief look. How do we explain this? Obviously, without knowing Peter better, they couldn't introduce themselves as a forger-slash-art-thief and a fence-slash-art-thief. That was a bad idea. Peter didn't see anything as the couple had a conversation solely in looks, facial expressions, and hidden gestures.
Neal's eyes widened. What are we going to say?
Kate flipped a hand palm up and shook her head minutely. I don't know. That's your problem.
Neal's mouth opened and he stared at her. No way. I took the last one.
Kate rolled her eyes. Fine.
"Thank you," Neal mouthed. He wrapped an arm around Kate's shoulders. She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before wrapping an arm around her waist. She was surprisingly strong, pulling Neal close to her side and practically gluing herself to his hip.
"Neal here," she started, "is a freelance artist, and I'm an antiques dealer. His art's even hanging in some galleries back in the States."
Neal smiled before whispering a thank you again. Kate just smirked. It was technically accurate. Neal made money by making his own art and his art was hanging in galleries. Those galleries didn't know the art was hanging, but it was hanging. Kate did deal in antiques. Albeit, she wasn't allowed to sell those, legally speaking, but it was close enough without lying.
Peter accepted their answers and nodded. "That must be nice for you."
Neal and Kate both relaxed. "What about you?" Neal asked. "What do you do for a living?"
"FBI," Peter answered, simply.
Neal and Kate shared a terrified look before Kate managed to pull herself together. She giggled. "FBI. Neal, you better watch out." Her fingers played across his chest.
Peter smiled. "Anything I should know about?" he joked.
Neal shook his head rapidly before regaining his composure. "No," he said with a carefully rehearsed laugh. "Kate just likes getting me in trouble."
Peter and Neal stared at each other, each trying to gauge the other's truthfulness. Kate broke the awkward silence. "Let's go to a museum later."
Neal glanced at Kate, his eyes wide. That glance clearly said 'Are you trying to get me arrested?' Kate smirked back, saying 'Nah. He doesn't see anything.' Apparently, Peter was preoccupied, because, once again, he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary with the two.
Neal recovered quickly (relatively speaking) and answered Kate's query. "After dinner, maybe?"
"Sounds good."
Peter looked at the two of them. He was utterly confused. "Is anything going to be open?"
Kate immediately realized the problem, Neal following a second later. They sounded incredibly suspicious. Normal people don't consider going to museums at 9 o'clock at night. He turned to Kate and decided to play it off as a joke. "We'll look. Worst case scenario, we go tomorrow." Nailed it.
The three people in the elevator all turned towards the door. This elevator ride is lasting a lot longer than I thought it would, all three of them thought. They'd run out of polite questions to ask and had established no commonalities between the three of them. What was there left to talk about? How much longer until they reached the ground floor? Neal cleared his throat.
"So, what do you do with the FBI?"
"I'm with the White Collar Crime Unit." Peter reached for his pocket to take out his ID, before remembering that he was on vacation. No one would carry a government job ID on vacation. So his hand just awkwardly hovered near his pocket for a moment.
Kate nodded. "Not a lot of excitement there, is there?"
"Not really," Peter said, shaking his head. "My wife likes it, though."
Kate laughed. "I'll bet," Neal replied.
"Any stories you can tell us?" Kate asked, like a little kid would. "Interesting cases or anything?"
Peter thought for a moment. "Right now, we're working on catching a bond forger and art thief. Mostly bond forgery. He's been pretty prolific." He looked at Neal for longer than he was comfortable with. "You look kind of like him."
Kate's eyes widened and she looked at Neal, panicked. Neal gave her a similar look. The two knew they had to act natural and not like they had been caught doing something illegal.
Neal laughed, managing to sound completely at ease. "Well, if I find a bond forger with my face, I'll let you know."
Peter joined in laughing now. The tension melted out from Kate's shoulders. Neal smirked back at her. Told you everything would be fine. Kate rolled her eyes. Show-off. The elevator finally stopped moving. Ding. The doors opened. The three exited, Kate again holding Neal's hand.
"Well, I probably won't see you around," Neal said. "But, you're a good guy, Peter. I hope I'll get to see you a bit more."
Peter nodded. "You too."
Kate waved goodbye, almost happy to be alone with Neal again. The three parted ways, Neal and Kate going towards a restaurant, and Peter going to his hotel. Kate and Neal kept walking down the road, and paused under an awning.
Neal turned to face Kate and let go of her hand. He adjusted his scarf. "So, dinner and then the Gardiner?" Neal sounded way too calm for the situation, almost like he hadn't realized who they were talking to.
Kate wasn't able to stay as calm as Neal. She was jittery and shifting from foot to foot. She twisted her mitten around her fingers. "Neal, do you know who that was?" She was panicking.
"Yeah," Neal said, nodding. "FBI Agent Peter Burke. The one on our trail."
Kate looked at Neal, apparently trying to figure out if he had been replaced by an identical clone or had just lost his mind. "How are you so calm?"
Neal shrugged. "He didn't see anything." He paused, reconsidering his words. "He wasn't looking for anything. To him, we were just Neal and Kate from Manhattan, not Neal Caffrey and Kate Moreau, art thieves extraordinaire." Neal wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. "We're fine, we'll be fine. Once he finds out, we're out of the country. Now, what do you say?"
Kate wriggled out of Neal's embrace. "I say…you're picking up the check." She took off, running down the street.
"Kate!"
Neal chased after her, laughing like crazy. Kate was also laughing her head off as she stopped to let Neal catch her. Sure, they were making a scene. But, none of these people would remember the crazy 20-year-old couple teasing each other down the street. That's good, Neal thought. Time for a heist.
A few days had passed and Peter was back at work in New York. His wife's event had gone well, nothing untoward happened on his vacation, and (the best part according to him) nothing had happened even vaguely involving Neal Caffrey… Well, as far as he knew. Peter sat in his office, working on some paperwork and wrapping up a simple mortgage fraud case. Everything was exactly the way he liked it. Another FBI agent, a young black man, came up to his office and knocked on the door frame.
"Hey, boss."
Peter looked up from his desk. "Jones," he said, pushing away papers to make a spot for the new folder Jones had.
"How was Canada?"
"Great." Peter gestured to a seat, and Jones took it. "El's banquet went well, we had fun, it was great. Any developments on the case?"
Everyone knew which case. The Caffrey case. They had been close to solving it so many times and every time, Caffrey had just escaped them. It was infuriating.
"Yeah," Jones said with a nod. "One you'll want to hear." He handed Peter the file, open to the exact section he'd want to see.
Peter took the folder and started to skim over it. "Another Caffrey?"
"Looks that way. Stolen hot chocolate cup and saucer. Johann Affenworth. Apparently worth a small fortune."
Peter read through the folder a bit more in detail. Nothing really stood out. A simple museum heist of some expensive ceramics. Thieves weren't caught on camera and didn't leave prints anywhere. No evidence to tie anyone to the crime. There wasn't anything noteworthy. Then Peter read the location of the heist. Dread pooled in his stomach as his blood ran cold.
"Where is the Gardiner Museum?"
"Toronto, Canada." Peter's face contorted into a mixture of rage, frustration, and embarrassment. "Why?"
Peter slammed the folder on the desk. "Dammit, Caffrey!"
This might have been the first time he would shout those words, but it definitely wouldn't be the last. Fate had different plans
Hope you enjoyed it! Don't forget to check out the other stories in the White Collar Elevators collection on the other archive. Have fun!