Title: Dream On (But Don't Imagine They'll All Come True).

Summary: This was not the first time Neal Caffrey called Peter, but there was something different about this call.

Characters: Neal Caffrey & Peter Burke.

Warnings: None.

Notes: Pre-canon and canon compliant.

...

"Burke."

"Hello, Peter."

Peter's attention was immediately pulled away from the game he had been watching on TV.

It was close to midnight already, and since El had an early start tomorrow she was already in bed. Peter had been minutes away from joining her, first taking the time to let go of the frustration and annoyance caused by the case he was currently working on. The files were still spread on the coffee table, an empty beer bottle pushed to the side.

"Who is this?"

"Really, Peter?" The voice on the other end of the line sounded amused. "I'm offended you even have to ask that."

Peter was already on his feet, barely avoiding tripping over Satchmo as the dog got up from where he had been lying by his feet on the rug. He bit back a curse, pausing only long enough to turn on the light as he headed straight for one of the drawers in the kitchen in search of the sleek, silver recorder El gave him as a birthday present a few years ago. Put the call on hold while he used the landline to contact someone from the office was too risky, but even if he may not be able to try to trace Caffrey's call without the bureau's resources (which past experiences told him wouldn't work anyway) he could at least keep the conman talking and record the conversation for late studying.

"Caffrey."

"There you go. I knew you couldn't have forgotten about me so soon. It's been what? Four, maybe five months since we almost meet again in New York?"

Peter put his phone on speaker and placed it on the counter along with the turned-on recorder. He rested his palms on the cold surface as he stared down at the phone.

"Actually, it's been over six months since I chased you out of the country."

There was a low chuckle. It didn't sound mocking. It was amused, yes, but it sounded almost fond. "I think 'chase' it's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think? Though I can admit your interest in my whereabouts helped me realize I had stayed in the city for a bit too long."

"I'm sure I could have helped you realize a few other things if you stayed," Peter told him dryly. A soft whine made him look down to see Satchmo sitting by his side, looking up at him with his dark eyes and pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. He bent down to scratch behind the dog's ear absently as he waited for a response.

"Oh, I'm sure you would have tried, but I wouldn't want to abuse your generosity. Surely there are others in need of your particular brand of help."

Peter bit back a snort. He pulled back one of the stools and sat down. "And where are you now, Caffrey?"

"You really don't think I'm going to tell you that, do you, Peter?" Once again, he heard the smile in Caffrey's voice. He could almost picture the bright smile on the young man's face as he lounged around somewhere luxurious, phone held to his ear with long artist fingers. "I will just say that Europe is beautiful this time of the year."

Peter's lips curled slightly upward. He had suspected as much, but it was good to have confirmation Caffrey was in Europe- if the conman was even telling the truth, which didn't seem very likely. The reminder was enough to wipe any hint of a smile from his face.

"What do you want, Caffrey?"

"Tsk, tsk. Is that the way to talk to a friend, Peter?"

"So we're friends now?"

"Of course we are, Peter! Would I take the time to call you and send a card on your birthday if we weren't?" Caffrey's voice lost some of its lightness before recovering almost immediately. "And, to answer your question, let's just say I have some free time right now, and I thought it was the perfect opportunity to call. You know, catch up a bit."

Peter leaned back in his seat. "Alright. You can start by telling me what you've been up to the past six months."

"Oh, you know how it is when you visit new places. I've been seeing the sights and enjoying some fresh air." There was a sound in the background, like a door closing before Caffrey spoke again. "Now, did you and your team like what I sent for you? I know sushi isn't really your thing, but it's more healthy than your usual choices. I think-"

"Have you stolen anything since you left the country?" Peter demanded, effectively cutting Caffrey off.

There was nothing but silence for a long time. He looked down at the phone screen to make sure the call was still ongoing.

"That's such an ugly word, don't you think? Steal."

Peter frowned down at the phone. "It doesn't matter what fancy word you want to use, Caffrey. What you do is still called stealing."

"Allegedly." There was a muted, soft rush of air that sounded like a sigh. "And I thought we were having a nice conversation."

"If you want to have a nice conversation with me all you have to do is turn yourself in, buddy."

"That's all, huh?" There was no hint of amusement this time. "I appreciate the offer, Peter, I do, but I think I'll pass."

"You know where to find me if you change your mind. I can work a good deal for you. Or you can just wait until I catch you," He added pointedly.

"Right. It was nice talking to you, Peter," Caffrey said softly before ending the call.

Peter looked down at his phone for a moment before reaching for the recorder and turning it off.

Chasing Neal Caffrey was usually challenging and exciting, but there were also rare moments like this that made him wonder about the man hiding behind the facade. Who was he and what made him think that a call in the middle of the night to the agent chasing him and an attempt to have a conversation as if they were longtime friends was a good idea?

It wasn't about teasing him- at least not entirely, but he had no idea what to make of it. Was he lonely? Did he need a friend? It hadn't been long since he and Kate Moreau parted ways, after all. The life of a fugitive certainly didn't allow for luxuries like friendship or any other kind of stability.

Or maybe he was just playing with his head. Caffrey was a conman, after all. He couldn't allow himself to be wrapped up in his lies and cons.

Peter rubbed a hand across his face and tried to push the thoughts away. He would have time to think about Neal Caffrey tomorrow. Just as he was about to get up, Peter was surprised to realize Satchmo hadn't left his side and was instead lying at his feet.

"Come, Satch. It's time to go to sleep, buddy."

The dog followed him as Peter left the kitchen, tail wagging slowly as he watched him move around the living room putting things back in order. Satchmo wasn't a puppy anymore, but Peter still made sure to leave the files and the recorder on the counter and out of his reach, just in case.

By the time Peter slowly climbed the stairs after making sure the doors were locked and with Satchmo at his heels, thoughts about Neal Caffrey and his call were still turning around in his head.

...

a/n: My first White Collar fic years and years after the show ended. Yay! So, this isn't exactly a new fic, though it has never been posted before. While I was sorting through my documents several months ago I found a bunch of fics I wrote a long time ago but never posted, among them several White Collar ones. I don't know how active the fandom is anymore, but there was no point in just letting them there, so I will be posting them here. So, I hope you enjoyed this and are interested in reading more fics! I'll love to hear your thoughts!

Title from the song Vienna by Billy Joel.

This is unbetaed and I'm not a native speaker, so please feel free to point out any mistake you may find.