FAR FROM HOME

Chapter 2

AN: I decided to write another chapter to kind of follow up on Neal. I don't paint Peter's co-workers in a good light here, read at your own risk.

Neal had been in D.C. a total of two months. He had started his heavy drinking about a month after he had gotten to D.C. He had always been a social drinker, to cross that boundary had scared him. He knew he didn't need to drink anymore. The situation that had caused him to cross that line no longer existed. But he also knew he could. Any situation that caused him stress…where would he turn? Where would he go to for relief? He hoped it would not be to stare at the bottom of a bottle.

Neal had given his supply of wine to Mozzie. June had even cleared out her cabinet. She didn't drink much at home anyway. She would take an occasional glass with diner. She mostly drank when she went out to restaurants. El had not rid the Burke household of alcohol. But she was very careful not to drink when Neal was around.

"You can drink in front of me, El." Neal said as they all sat down to eat. Neal immediately noticed the absence of her favorite wine. "The sight of alcohol is not going to send me into a tailspin or anything."

"I just…." El started.

Neal smiled and nodded. "I know, and I appreciate it. But…" Neal pointed towards the street. "…the world out there doesn't know that I had a slip up. They don't know that I have a problem. They don't know to 'hide' the alcohol from me." Neal gave El a sympathetic look. "That's the real world."

El smiled at him and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "I just wanted to protect you. I didn't…." El shook her head.

"You're been my friend, El, you and Peter." Neal glanced at Peter. "That's all I wanted from you. That's what I needed." He replied squeezing her hand.

WC WC WC WC WC

Neal had been nervous about returning to work. And he knew why, despite being a criminal, he had not really shown any weakness in front of the agents in the White Collar Division. Now he had vulnerability, he had a weakness. He knew, as nice as they seemed on the outside, Peter had some vultures working for him. And when Neal walked in, he could not help but feel like the wounded animal. He just wondered how long it would take before they began to circle overhead.

As it turns out, it didn't take long. Neal opened one of his desk drawers a few hours later. He couldn't believe it and just stared at the tiny bottle before he picked it up. He quickly slipped the bottle into his pocket, knowing the office's policy on alcohol. He then returned to his job. But over the next few days he found additional bottles. He found them in the file area. He found them in the conference room. He found them in the men's room.

Peter and Neal got onto the elevator. Peter accidently blushed up against Neal. He looked at his partner, but didn't' say anything. He had heard what sounded like glass bottles clanking. But the elevator was full of people at the time, and Peter decided it would be better to address the issue in private.

Peter waited until he and Neal got into his car. Peter started the engine before he spoke to Neal. "Is there anything you need to tell me?" Peter asked, referring to when he bumped into Neal in the elevator.

Neal reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out three airline-sized bottles of booze. They had not been opened, the seals were not broken. "It seems someone in White Collar has a very sadistic sense of humor." Neal said, showing Peter the bottles.

"How? When?" Peter asked, not really knowing which question to ask, just feeling his anger grow.

"I found the first one in my desk drawer the day I came back to work." Neal stated. "The rest I have been finding…around the office."

"Around the…what?!" Peter asked, shaking his head, he couldn't believe his co-workers. "You were finding these around the office?" He couldn't believe his ears.

Neal nodded. "All week." He admitted, unsure exactly who Peter was angry with. "I wasn't going to drink them, Peter. I…I just…." Neal shook his head. "…the office policy on alcohol. I just figured everybody would think they were mine anyway."

Peter took the bottles from Neal's hands. They drove to Neal's house in silence. Neal could practically feel the anger radiating off Peter. He got out of the car without saying goodbye to Peter and went into June's.

Peter couldn't believe any of his co-workers would do this. But he was also positive Neal was not drinking, and that he hadn't been since he returned from D.C. So, that left just one explanation. Like Neal said, 'somebody in White Collar had a very sadistic sense of humor.' Peter gripped the wheel tighter in an attempt to control his anger.

Neal studied his hands, lying in his lap. It had been this way for a couple of days. Drives to the office in silence. Ever since the day Neal had showed him the bottles. He could feel Peter's disappointment.

"I didn't drink any of it, Peter." Neal said as he studied Peter's expression. "I swear. I didn't drink any. I just…all the bottles I found you have. I didn't just down a few and give the rest to you."

Peter looked at Neal. He knew Neal had not drunk any, he was positive of that. But Peter had not told him so. In fact, Peter realized, he had not said much to Neal, at all, since Neal had given him the bottles of booze. He was letting Neal wallow in guilt over nothing. Neal had done nothing wrong.

"I'm sorry, Neal. This is…. We'll talk when we get to the house." Peter replied.

Neal nodded, still unsure what Peter had planned. Peter's words brought him little comfort.

Neal steeled himself as Peter parked the car, and killed the engine. Peter made no immediate motion to open the door. And Neal, for once, was glad they would have their 'talk' in private. But, then again, there would be no witnesses; maybe that was not such a good thing.

Neal shook his head. He started to speak.

"No, Neal…." Peter said shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I am sorry for all of this. It…you did nothing wrong. I just…I can't believe my co-workers. I can't believe that they would act that way. I've been trying to find out who was responsible. I don't get how anybody could be so cruel." Peter replied.

Neal couldn't hide his surprise.

"I know you didn't drink, Neal." Peter replied. "I know how careful you're being. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about this. It just…I was blindsided when you showed me the bottles. I was blindsided and pissed. And even though you didn't do anything, you caught the brunt of it." Peter apologized again. "I am so sorry for that."

"So, do you know…?" Neal asked feeling relieved.

Peter shook his head. "Not yet, they weren't stupid enough to leave prints on the bottles, and nobody's talking."

Neal, feeling better about the whole situation, got out of the car. Smells of dinner greeted them as they walked into the Burke residence.

"I've got something else to show you. But it can wait. " Neal replied as they went up the stairs. He didn't want to spoil their evening together before he absolutely had to.

Peter nodded, not really knowing what Neal was talking about.

After dinner they all went into the living room for coffee, Neal pulled a small bag out of his pocket and handed it to Peter. It contained 8 more airline-sized bottles of booze.

Peter opened the bag. He didn't look at Neal. He stood up, balled the bag up in his hand and walked out the door. He threw the bag, as hard as he could to the sidewalk, busting all the bottles inside. He then, calmly picked the bag up.

Neal and El watched Peter from the living room windows. They saw him pick up the bag start back up the stairs.

"What are you going to do with that?" El asked as Peter entered the house and proceeded to the kitchen. He got a zip lock bag out of their kitchen drawer. He put the bag Neal had given him down inside and sealed it.

Peter breathed out a breath, trying to control his anger. "I am going to let my co-workers know that I thought of their little…joke."

"That was what you wanted to show me?" Peter asked, still trying to calm himself.

Neal nodded.

"How long?" Peter asked.

Neal just looked at him.

"How long have you had those?" Peter asked, his anger rising.

"I'd been collecting them all week." Neal replied. "After you…after your initial reaction, I didn't know what to do. I just kept them. I knew you would have to see them…eventually."

Peter nodded. He knew what he had to do.

The next morning Peter Burke walked into the White Collar Division and made an announcement.

"Can I have everybody's attention, please?" Peter said loud enough for everybody to hear. "Can I have your attention?" Peter repeated. Peter gave everyone a chance to gather. "I didn't realize we had a jokester in our midst." Peter produced the first three bottles of booze Neal had given him. He then held them up for everybody to see. These bottles were still intact. "Only your jokes aren't funny. I fail to see what is funny about leaving these around the office." Peter replied. "I know a lot of you don't like Neal. And a lot of you feel the only place he deserves to be is in jail. I get that. So does he. But to treat a fellow human being as cruelly as you have…it's unconscionable." Peter took one of the bottles and threw it against the wall. It exploded he threw it so hard. Alcohol sprayed all over the wall and the floor where it had hit. The other two bottles quickly followed, making the puddle of shattered glass and booze bigger. "That is what I think of your joke! Neal had better not find another bottle anywhere in this office. And when I find out which one of you left them, there will be hell to pay!" Peter hissed. "I can promise you that."

The response was shock. No one could ever remember seeing Peter that angry. But Peter could not erase the image in his mind of a friend, so lonely and broken, that he had turned to a bottle for help. It made Peter's heart ache. And it fueled his anger and resentment. He stormed past his co-workers and into his office.

Would you be interested in reading more? Let me know what you think. Jackie