7 - Free Fall

"Bakery?" Neal asked, fixing his tie as Mozzie held up the small mirror for him.

"Done".

"Construction?"

"Finished".

He nodded, "How's air conditioning in the judge's office?"

"Hm. Broke down this morning".

"All right" He smirked, "Let's go to court".


Being led through the White Collar division had been… interesting. Peter had been good enough to cover the cuffs with his jacket, but given that Neal was still wearing his own jacket, it was no secret what was happening. He hadn't been good enough to believe him, however, and, yea, that hurt.

Neal wasn't used to depending on people, and had even less experience trusting them, so for Peter to genuinely think that he'd stolen that necklace…

Well, he'd just have to prove him wrong.


"Bailiff, would you open the window?" Judge Hickman asked, waving his hand at his face in an effort to cool down.

"Oh, the heat is stifling in here" He complained, "Unfortunately, the air conditioning is not working today".

The Bailiff lifted open the window and turned back to them.

"Thank you. Please wait outside".

The Judge waited until the man had left before turning to him.

"Per your request, Mr Caffrey, the chambers have been cleared".

Neal smiled and nodded, "Thank you".

"In accordance with that agreement, you're prepared to give a full confession?"

"I am, Your Honor".

Just not the confession you want.

"I'll admit I've done a lot of things in my life I'm not proud of…"

Neal smirked and reconsidered.

"No. No, that's not true. I'm proud of most of them" He corrected, "But what I'm about to do today… this is gonna be good".

The Judge wiped his brow with a tissue and gestured for him to continue, looking vaguely confused.

"I did not steal the diamond necklace from Le Joyau Precieux".

Silence.

"I cleared these chambers because you claimed to have sensitive information vital to this case" Hickman eventually replied, "If you didn't steal the diamond, then who did?"

He winked.

"I'll let you know".

Show time.


Neal leapt through the window, out onto the ledge, and estimated the distance between him and the awning of the bakery. Mozzie had ensured that it was high quality, the same type of tarpaulin used in circuses and trampolines, so it should hold his weight. From ground level, that is. He heard the Bailiff rush into the room behind him, realised he had no time to second guess himself now, and jumped.


"Hey, you" Peter greeted, leaning forward to kiss El on the cheek.

"Oh, hey. You got my message".

"I did. Thank you".

El smiled, sadly, "I wanted you to have a familiar face in there".

"Well, I'll take yours anytime".

Her smile widened and they began walking towards the court house.

"So are you sure Neal did this?"

"... Yea, I am" He reluctantly admitted, "Of course, he says he was framed".

"Maybe he was" El replied, ever the optimist.

"I wish it was true".

Peter frowned as he saw Agent Cruz quickly walk towards them.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Hi. So the arraignment's been moved" She explained, straight to the point as always.

"Why?"

"Neal said he's gonna confess".

El sighed, "So I guess you were right".

He barely heard her, brain working overtime on Caffrey breaking his MO for the first time in five years.

"Neal never confesses".

Lauren shrugged, "Important people were gonna be named and he won't do it in open court. So they moved the proceedings".

"Where?"

"Judge's chambers around the corner".

El patted his arm reassuringly, "Honey, I'll call you later, okay?"

He quickly nodded and began to walk, calling back to Cruz, "Get ahold of Hughes!"

She nodded and rushed off, and he did the same.

There was something wrong here, something off. Neal never confessed, ever. Even when he was in court the last time when Peter found his fingerprints on the forged bonds, even when he had everything stacked against him, even when there was not a single scrap of evidence pointing to anyone else but him… Neal didn't confess.

He stopped a man standing at the corner, "Judge Hickman's office?"

"Fourth floor" He answered, distracted by his phone.

"Thank you".

Turning, Peter took in the orange awning, the words "The Greatest Cake", and the ad "Grand Opening".

"Bakery" He suddenly realised, "The son of a bitch bought that bakery".


He quickly looked up, frozen to the spot, and-

Neal.

He was standing at the edge of the window ledge, hair blowing freely in the wind and tie askew. He was also staring at the tarpaulin, a calculating look in his eyes, almost as he was going to-

He jumped.

Peter automatically took a step forward, startled, but then stilled as Neal landed on the awning.

Miraculously, he held until his wait, and he used the buoyancy to propel himself towards the edge, planning on grabbing the metal bar to swing himself around. Which worked. Sort of.

His second landing was not so clean.

Peter watched as the man's fingers slipped from the bar at the last second, causing him to lose his balance and instead of landing perfectly on the concrete pavement below, he landed at an angle, his right leg twisting beneath him awkwardly.

He heard the snap from here.

Neal refused to stop, couldn't stop, there were guards and police officers and bloody OPR agents already rushing to the scene, shoving past Peter to chase the felon as he picked himself up and gave him a 'what can you do' look. He turned, half running half stumbling towards a dark van parked at the side of the road. He threw himself in, headfirst, and thirty seconds later, it took off, dragging the injured conman with it.

Or so they thought.

He couldn't help but grin, shaking his head in disbelief.

"He's not in the van".


"Get to the city planner's office" Peter ordered, "Find out where these tunnels lead".

"Burke" Fowler snapped, "Caffrey escaped?"

"Yea. He did a four-story swan dive onto that awning of the bakery" He reluctantly answered, "Who approved moving the arraignment?"

"Marshals guaranteed the security".

Strike One.

"Never assume anything with Neal" He snapped, "Been working my ass off keeping this kid straight and narrow... He's been helping us win cases until you came".

"Don't put this on me-"

"I'm-"

"Hey, hey, gentlemen!" Hughes interrupted, "Hey, let's focus on the problem here. What do we know?"

Peter reluctantly looked away from the OPR agent.

"We stop the van?"

Strike Two.

"The only person in the van was the driver. He claims he was hired through an Internet posting. Five hundred bucks to pick up the van, park at this spot".

"Van have floor panel that was removable?" Peter asked.

"How did you know?"

He smirked and shook his head, "Caffrey wasn't in there for more than a few seconds. He's gone underground".

"Can we track his anklet?" Fowler demanded.

"They removed it when we arrested him".

Strike Three.

Hughes sighed, "Okay. Burke, find him again".

"I'm not comfortable with Agent Burke-"

Three strikes, you're out.

"I don't care whether you're comfortable or not! Burke knows Caffrey better than anyone. Now get to work".

Fowler bit back the angry remark he clearly wanted to say, and Hughes left, satisfied. Turning back to him, he glared at Peter.

"All right, Burke. What's your plan?"

"Set up road blocks" He taunted, "Put up wanted posters".

Fowler gave him a disbelieving look.

"You know, we're going to find your pet convict, Burke. Witnesses say he busted his leg when he jumped… He can't have gone very far".


Peter sighed as he finally arrived home after a long day.

"Hey".

"Hey" El answered, "You okay?"

"Still haven't found Neal" He frowned, "We got a detail outside".

"Yea, I saw".

"As if he'd be careless enough to come here…"

Peter suddenly straightened up as he saw the look on his wife's face.

"Where do you think he did go, El?"

She glanced to the side, guiltily.

"Is he in the kitchen?"

"... Yup".

"Neal!" He snapped, and a second later the door opened to reveal his 'pet convict'.

"... Peter".

"All the places you could run, you go to my wife?!"

"Saying it like it's a bad thing" El protested, and he turned to her in disbelief, "You helped him sneak in?!"

"Wouldn't have had to if there weren't people sitting at our house" She complained.

"You lied to the FBI".

"Honey, I did not lie to the FBI" She consoled, "There was just a lot of milk and cookies and pleasant distracting conversation… while Neal slipped around back".

He immediately turned back to the conman.

"I love this. You've turned my wife into an accomplice".

"Give me one minute to explain" He begged.

"... One minute?"

"One minute".

He nodded, slowly, "Explain what you were thinking when you did a free fall from the judge's chambers, while I decide if I drag you back in chains".

"... Does that minute start now?"

"Go!"

"Honey-"

"Let him try and explain his way out of this El-"

"And he can, after he sits down" She explained.

Peter frowned and turned back to him, only now realising the awkward way that he was holding himself.

"... I heard something snap" He said slowly, "When you jumped".

He winced, "Yea… That was, kind of, my ankle?"

Silence.

"Your what?"

He hobbled over to the pillar wall, being sure to stay out of view from the windows but still allowing Peter to see the haphazard white bandages wrapped tightly around his right ankle.

"At least it wasn't the one with the tracker" Neal joked.

"You currently don't have a tracker" He replied faintly.

"Well, yea, but once I'm proven innocent, I can't imagine that the Marshals will let me stay off the leash".

"Innocent?"

"You said you'd let me explain".

"I said you have one minute" Peter corrected, "So start talking".


"Okay. I told you I was set up by someone very close to you" Neal began, "Couldn't tell because I thought it was somebody in the FBI… Now I'm positive it's Fowler".

"Fowler? That's not-"

"I've got 52 seconds left" He interrupted.

"Had a little free time on my hands the past few days. So I've been putting these together" He handed him a yellow legal pad, "They're documents Fowler shredded after I requested access to my files".

Peter quickly scanned them, slowly realising that it was the conversation he'd had with Neal a few days ago.

"... I made that call from my home" He said, horrified.

"Yep".

"My God, they tapped my phone".

"They didn't tap it" He corrected, "That would require a court order. Look at your phone".

Turning, Peter noticed the dismantled landline on the dining room table for the first time, and the very familiar looking listening device sitting on top of it.

"It's a bug. Standard bureau issue. Activates when you pick it up".

"They've been inside my house".

Neal nodded, "They couldn't have had authorisation".

"Not within the window of the crime and his suspicion".

"Exactly. Fowler is dirty".

He didn't know what to think. First Kate, then Neal's arrest, and now this...

"Peter, I have access to every file the FBI has on me. You had Jones process a request to look at my initials on the bond forgery. After you checked to see if I was telling the truth… one other person checked it too".

"Fowler".

"Then my initials just happened to show up on the pink diamond" Neal shook his head, "He's using you to get to me... My minute's up".


Peter slowly sank down into a dining room chair and put his head in his hands.

What the hell was he meant to do now?

He glanced back over at Neal, who was still hovering awkwardly, trying to balance with most of his weight on his left leg.

"... Sit down".

He gratefully did as told, all but collapsing in a chair with a wince.

Peter stood and dragged his chair closer to him, carefully staying out of sight of the windows just in case, and then picked up the convict's leg and rested it on the old wood.

"What are you doing?"

"Did you have that seen to?" He asked, fetching the first aid kit from the kitchen.

"I'm currently a wanted fugitive" He countered, "What do you think?"

Peter sighed and knelt down next to the chair, helping the man to pull off the stolen shoes.

"Sprained? Twisted?"

"Try broken".

He stopped, paused, and then gave him a resigned look.

"Neal? When you break part of your leg, you don't continue to run!"

"What was I meant to do? Stay and get arrested?!"

"You jumped out of a judge's fourth story office!"

"Yea, because I'm being set up!"

Peter took a deep breath.

"... I can't heal a broken ankle. I can't even treat it properly".

"I'm not asking you to" He replied quietly, "It's only a minor fracture, and I've put ice on it… But I've got to prove my innocence, Peter".

"... Alright" He finally agreed, removing the torn bandages, "Alright, okay, we'll just… I'll wrap this best I can, you disappear to wherever's safe for the night, and then tomorrow… we'll go back to the jewellery store".

"Rule number one is never return to the scene of the crime".

"Well apparently you didn't commit this crime, so that doesn't matter, does it?"

They stared at each other for a moment, before Neal smirked.

"I said I'd give a full confession" He began, "So here it is".