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sheenianniTitle: (Meet Me) At the Crossroads (Part V)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sheenianni
Artist:aragarna
Fandom: White Collar
Notes: See Prologue
PART V
“I just don’t know what’s going on with him.”
“What do you mean?”
Turning around to face Elizabeth, Peter sighs. “Neal. I thought it was all about Kate, but there’s something… I can’t put my finger on it. He’s not just grieving; he’s hiding something from me.”
“Like what? Honey…”
“I don’t know.”
“You said he might be investigating Kate’s death,” El pointed out.
“Yeah, maybe. “
“You don’t think he’s looking into her death?” asks El surprisedly.
“Oh, I know he is looking; I just don’t know what he found. And there’s something else… I’ve been checking his anklet data,” says Peter after a pause. “He moves around the apartment until close to midnight, then goes to bed and doesn’t move at all until five or six o’clock in the morning.”
El frowns. “And what’s wrong with that?”
Peter shakes his head. “It’s… too still. You’d think he would go to the bathroom, grab a glass of water… I know he hasn’t been sleeping.”
“Maybe he’s been reading a book? Either way, it doesn’t sound like he’s doing anything wrong.”
“Maybe,” says Peter.
He acknowledges El has a point, and yet… One or two nights would make sense, but all this time? And then there were those scratches and the bruise that looked like a bitemark. Neal claimed that they were from voluntary sex, but then why did he freak out so badly tonight when Santano hit on him? “Something’s going on,” he says aloud.
El kisses him on a cheek. “Well, whatever it is, you’ll figure it out.”
El always knew how to make him feel better. “You’re right,” says Peter. Smiling at his wife, he deliberately pushes the thought of Neal away. “So, what about your new client? Did the meeting go all right?”
“Well, there was this one moment…”
* * *
They have already finished with the lotion, and they have made love afterwards. Now as they lie next to each other, as he lays a gentle kiss on her neck, Neal thinks about all the little things he has forgotten during their separation.
He remembered the ticklish spot on Kate’s thigh, but not how soft her hair felt in his hands. He remembered the light in her smile, but not her little hiccup when she was laughing so hard her eyes teared up. He remembered her favorite song but forgot that she hated apricot jam and celery.
So many of her little quirks that have slipped his mind… If everything goes right, he will have a lifetime to rediscover them all over again.
But first they have to make sure that their plans have no holes in them.
Neal clears his throat. “I was thinking… If we’re not replacing the guard like the EMTs, how do we let him shoot me without me actually getting shot?”
“Mozzie will switch his gun. We’ll give him one with blanks, use the fake blood, then switch it back… disappear.”
“That could actually… work.” Neal pauses. “Is it true what Moz says, that you came up with all of this?”
Kate smiles at him. “Well, not everything. The puff fish toxin was Mozzie’s idea… I learned some things when you weren’t around. Besides, I had a good teacher.”
They’ve both changed, Neal thinks. They’ve lost some of that youthful idealism – he used to think he was invincible; Kate wasn’t this independent when they first met. They’ve grown different… stronger.
“You’re incredible.”
She laughs. “Say it again.”
He follows each of his words with a kiss. “Incredible… gorgeous… smart…”
“Keep going,” Kate breathes as she pushes him on his back and climbs atop him.
“Did you set the alarm clock?” Neal asks in between a kiss.
“Damn.” Kate pauses before getting off him. Reaching for the floor, she picks up her cellphone and sets the clock before dropping it back on ground. “I think Mozzie’d kill us if you were late again…”
“Probably.”
Chuckling mischievously, Kate moves back to the bed with him. Seeing her smile in the light of the lamp, Neal’s heart almost burst with love–
“Wait.”
Still smiling at him, Kate tilts her head. “What’s wrong?”
“Just… wait for a moment.”
Standing up, Neal goes back to where he has left his clothes and his bag (yesterday June baked blueberry muffins; he knew those were Kate’s favorite so he brought her some) – he rummages through his things and ignores the cold steel of the gun as he pushes it away –
There, in the far corner of the bag.
He used to dream about doing this; had it all planned out before Peter caught him and Adler screwed up their lives. But the past months and years have taught him that nothing is certain, and suddenly waiting for the perfect opportunity feels like a waste of time when they have already lost so much.
Taking out the item that he has recently liberated from Madison Square park, Neal hides it in his palm before returning to the bed where Kate is waiting for him with a curious expression.
He clears his throat. “Can you sit up?”
“Sure,” says Kate with a bit of suspicion. “Neal, what’s going on?”
Suddenly feeling a knot in his throat, Neal laughs even as his eyes tear up. “I had this whole thing prepared… Look, I don’t know what our names will be in three weeks or if the plan will work, and it’s not what we dreamed of but…” He swallows and stops before his rambling gets worse; then he takes her hand in his and opens his other palm to reveal an emerald ring. “Kate, will you marry me?”
* * *
If Peter didn’t think before that something was going on with Neal, today would have been enough to clue him in.
After their case yesterday ended in a spectacular fiasco, Peter expected Neal to be somewhat subdued, or at least tightly in control of his emotions. And on the first glance, his impression seems correct – Neal is at his table, looking very quiet and helpful. And yet there is something about him that doesn’t fit that profile – behind Neal’s mask, Peter sees a spark of something else – anticipation? Excitement, even?
Nothing of it makes sense.
Nevertheless, none of it will matter unless they catch Angela Santano.
“My office,” he murmurs when he stops by Neal’s desk.
Neal stills before nodding. “Sure.”
“Shut the door. Sit down,” says Peter when they make it upstairs.
Obeying his command, Neal gives him a hesitant smile. “Look, if this is about yesterday–”
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” asks Peter dryly as he takes his own chair.
A pause. “Santano – startled me. I overreacted. I don’t know what else to say…”
“Right. Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” Peter lets out a sigh and runs a tired hand over his face. “What’s important is that we need to find a new way to catch Angela in the act.”
“Isn’t it always that way?” asks Neal with a small smile.
“You don’t understand. We know Angela made IDs for the Irish mob. Organized Crime have their dibs on this case. If we screw up, if we don’t get some answers soon, Ruiz will take over – and be justified. … We need to solve this.”
Neal frowns. “Why Santano? Why’s this case so important?”
“Because it’s the best we got,” answers Peter honestly. “Our other cases are the Rodgers scam and the Nott fraud, neither of which is anyway near being closed. Angela’s still our best bet for a quick arrest.”
“You’re saying that like we’re on a deadline.”
Peter winces. “Not precisely, but…”
“But what? Peter–”
“There’s no explicit deadline…” Peter trails off before taking a deep breath. “I just need you to take this case seriously, okay? The Department of Justice had some concerns–”
“About what, me? And you didn’t tell me?” asks Neal in disbelief.
“I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily,” answers Peter. “Look, it’s not a big deal. We just need to prove we still make a good team and catch Angela–”
“A team.”
Something about the way Neal says it makes Peter uneasy. “Yeah, that’s right. We’re partners.”
“You sure about that, Peter?” asks Neal with deceptive calm.
“Of course I am. Neal–”
Humorless, Neal chuckles. “So what happens if we don’t catch her? Am I back in jail?”
“No, I mean, I’ll do my best to–”
“To lie to me? To keep this from me?”
“What? No, I– why are we even arguing?” Internally, Peter shakes his head. “Listen, catching criminals is part of your job. It’s what we do. We’ll catch Angela and all of this will become baseless.”
Neal opens his mouth before closing it again. “You’re right. Let’s focus on the case.”
Peter’s gut tells him there’s something off about all this, and suddenly he’s sick of these games and all the unspoken words. Has he done them more harm than good when he decided to give Neal space?
“What’s really wrong?” he asks quietly.
Neal stares at him in disbelief. “What do you think, Peter?”
“I know you’re grieving for Kate,” says Peter gently. “I’m sorry about what happened to her. I wish we could have done something to help her.” Neal’s blank face betrays no emotion. “Listen, why don’t you come over for dinner tonight.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“I insist,” says Peter with a small smile.
“Are you going to make me?” asks Neal boldly.
“No – damn it, Neal. Where is this coming from?”
A pause. “I just need some space, Peter,” says Neal at last.
Space. It’s what Mozzie has advocated. Then why does it feel like he’s missing something?
“You’re hiding something from me.”
Neal looks away. “I’m not–”
“It’s about Kate, isn’t it?” Peter presses.
“Would you drop it?” snaps Neal with a mix of pain and anger. When Peter doesn’t reply, Neal looks straight into his eyes. “I’m not hiding anything, Peter.”
A lie.
Peter swallows the bitter disappointment, even though he didn’t expect anything else. He nods. “Okay. Then let’s get back to our case.”
“What’s the plan?” asks Neal thoughtfully.
“Angela only goes to the club three times a week. Tomorrow, we will try to send Diana in. In the meantime...” Peter hands Neal a thick file.
“What’s this?”
“Angela’s financials,” says Peter with a hint of evil glee when he hears Neal’s groan. Serves him right. “If she was making money by her forging business, chances are we’ll find something here.”
“You’re making me look at numbers? Cruel and unusual.”
“You’ll survive,” says Peter dryly, his own copy already at his desk.
They really do need this case, and they’ll do they best to catch Angela. In the meantime, if Neal isn’t going to tell him what’s going on, Peter will have to figure it out on his own.
That’s just the way it is.
* * *
Reprogramming his anklet that night feels unusually grim. Neal thinks about Kate, her voice, her smile – and yet once again she’s not the only person on his mind.
‘We’re a team.’
But not for much longer.
Hiding back the anklet jammer, Neal puts on a leather jacket, trousers and a cap; once again, he’s sneaking around like a thief. He tries to remember a time when it wasn’t this way between them but all he finds are his earnest, pleaded promises when he was at Sing Sing; that it would be different once he got out; that he could go straight and give her whatever she wanted; that they would have their villa and their happily ever after. Kate just stared at him before telling him to get out in one piece.
He could never quite stop lying to her. This time, though, he’s going to keep his promises.
His trip down the stairs is quiet; if June knows about his late night excursions, she’s never said anything, but either way Neal tries not to interrupt her sleep. He slips outside and then starts walking. Every night, he takes a slightly different route – he once took the subway five stops in the opposite direction before heading back to Mozzie’s safehouse. It may be more time-consuming but it’s also safer that way, especially knowing that someone followed him during the day several times in the past few weeks. Still, there has been no indication that anyone knew about his night trips.
Until now.
Years of practice stop Neal from freezing when he realizes he has a tail. Forcing down his panic, he doesn’t look around and doesn’t break his step; he subtly checks the reflection in a shop window, but whoever’s following him is too smart to come that close. A few moments later, Neal seizes the opportunity and uses two passing cars to hide him as he changes direction. For a moment, he thinks that worked, but then he realizes his pursuer is still following him.
Damn.
If someone’s following him, then his situation just got that much direr. They’ll have to speed up their plans, whether they are ready or not. Torn between grief and anger, Neal acknowledges visiting Kate is out of question now, it’s simply too risky. He almost decides to just scratch today and walk back home, but what if the next time he doesn’t notice them?
The gun is still there in a concealed holster at the side of his hip.
He tries to shake them off one more time and fails, though this time he catches a glimpse of his tail in a shiny surface of a passing bus – it’s a tall man with broad shoulders, wearing a jacket. Making a snap decision, Neal scratches his initial tour plan and starts leading them to the smaller, shadier streets; in the corner of his eye, he spots a drug dealer with a customer, but he chooses the parallel alley; there are no cameras in those places, and as he takes another sharp turn he reaches for the revolver in his pants –
He presses his back against a house wall and waits; he’s estimated their distance at roughly twenty seconds. Six, seven, eight – he wonders who Adler sent; probably nobody he knows – fourteen, fifteen – a long time ago, he tried to emulate Adler almost as his role model; how did he never see the cold ruthlessness behind that benevolent mask? – twenty, twenty one – this was a bad idea, Neal realizes suddenly, but he can’t back out anymore if he wants to see Kate again–
The moment the man passes the corner, Neal jumps forward and aims the revolver at him, but his heart skips a beat when his pursuer is almost as fast with his own gun. He starts to press the trigger when he finally sees the man’s face –
“Peter?”
* * *
Part VI
Author:
sheenianniArtist:
aragarnaFandom: White Collar
Notes: See Prologue
___________________________________
PART V
“I just don’t know what’s going on with him.”
“What do you mean?”
Turning around to face Elizabeth, Peter sighs. “Neal. I thought it was all about Kate, but there’s something… I can’t put my finger on it. He’s not just grieving; he’s hiding something from me.”
“Like what? Honey…”
“I don’t know.”
“You said he might be investigating Kate’s death,” El pointed out.
“Yeah, maybe. “
“You don’t think he’s looking into her death?” asks El surprisedly.
“Oh, I know he is looking; I just don’t know what he found. And there’s something else… I’ve been checking his anklet data,” says Peter after a pause. “He moves around the apartment until close to midnight, then goes to bed and doesn’t move at all until five or six o’clock in the morning.”
El frowns. “And what’s wrong with that?”
Peter shakes his head. “It’s… too still. You’d think he would go to the bathroom, grab a glass of water… I know he hasn’t been sleeping.”
“Maybe he’s been reading a book? Either way, it doesn’t sound like he’s doing anything wrong.”
“Maybe,” says Peter.
He acknowledges El has a point, and yet… One or two nights would make sense, but all this time? And then there were those scratches and the bruise that looked like a bitemark. Neal claimed that they were from voluntary sex, but then why did he freak out so badly tonight when Santano hit on him? “Something’s going on,” he says aloud.
El kisses him on a cheek. “Well, whatever it is, you’ll figure it out.”
El always knew how to make him feel better. “You’re right,” says Peter. Smiling at his wife, he deliberately pushes the thought of Neal away. “So, what about your new client? Did the meeting go all right?”
“Well, there was this one moment…”
They have already finished with the lotion, and they have made love afterwards. Now as they lie next to each other, as he lays a gentle kiss on her neck, Neal thinks about all the little things he has forgotten during their separation.
He remembered the ticklish spot on Kate’s thigh, but not how soft her hair felt in his hands. He remembered the light in her smile, but not her little hiccup when she was laughing so hard her eyes teared up. He remembered her favorite song but forgot that she hated apricot jam and celery.
So many of her little quirks that have slipped his mind… If everything goes right, he will have a lifetime to rediscover them all over again.
But first they have to make sure that their plans have no holes in them.
Neal clears his throat. “I was thinking… If we’re not replacing the guard like the EMTs, how do we let him shoot me without me actually getting shot?”
“Mozzie will switch his gun. We’ll give him one with blanks, use the fake blood, then switch it back… disappear.”
“That could actually… work.” Neal pauses. “Is it true what Moz says, that you came up with all of this?”
Kate smiles at him. “Well, not everything. The puff fish toxin was Mozzie’s idea… I learned some things when you weren’t around. Besides, I had a good teacher.”
They’ve both changed, Neal thinks. They’ve lost some of that youthful idealism – he used to think he was invincible; Kate wasn’t this independent when they first met. They’ve grown different… stronger.
“You’re incredible.”
She laughs. “Say it again.”
He follows each of his words with a kiss. “Incredible… gorgeous… smart…”
“Keep going,” Kate breathes as she pushes him on his back and climbs atop him.
“Did you set the alarm clock?” Neal asks in between a kiss.
“Damn.” Kate pauses before getting off him. Reaching for the floor, she picks up her cellphone and sets the clock before dropping it back on ground. “I think Mozzie’d kill us if you were late again…”
“Probably.”
Chuckling mischievously, Kate moves back to the bed with him. Seeing her smile in the light of the lamp, Neal’s heart almost burst with love–
“Wait.”
Still smiling at him, Kate tilts her head. “What’s wrong?”
“Just… wait for a moment.”
Standing up, Neal goes back to where he has left his clothes and his bag (yesterday June baked blueberry muffins; he knew those were Kate’s favorite so he brought her some) – he rummages through his things and ignores the cold steel of the gun as he pushes it away –
There, in the far corner of the bag.
He used to dream about doing this; had it all planned out before Peter caught him and Adler screwed up their lives. But the past months and years have taught him that nothing is certain, and suddenly waiting for the perfect opportunity feels like a waste of time when they have already lost so much.
Taking out the item that he has recently liberated from Madison Square park, Neal hides it in his palm before returning to the bed where Kate is waiting for him with a curious expression.
He clears his throat. “Can you sit up?”
“Sure,” says Kate with a bit of suspicion. “Neal, what’s going on?”
Suddenly feeling a knot in his throat, Neal laughs even as his eyes tear up. “I had this whole thing prepared… Look, I don’t know what our names will be in three weeks or if the plan will work, and it’s not what we dreamed of but…” He swallows and stops before his rambling gets worse; then he takes her hand in his and opens his other palm to reveal an emerald ring. “Kate, will you marry me?”
If Peter didn’t think before that something was going on with Neal, today would have been enough to clue him in.
After their case yesterday ended in a spectacular fiasco, Peter expected Neal to be somewhat subdued, or at least tightly in control of his emotions. And on the first glance, his impression seems correct – Neal is at his table, looking very quiet and helpful. And yet there is something about him that doesn’t fit that profile – behind Neal’s mask, Peter sees a spark of something else – anticipation? Excitement, even?
Nothing of it makes sense.
Nevertheless, none of it will matter unless they catch Angela Santano.
“My office,” he murmurs when he stops by Neal’s desk.
Neal stills before nodding. “Sure.”
“Shut the door. Sit down,” says Peter when they make it upstairs.
Obeying his command, Neal gives him a hesitant smile. “Look, if this is about yesterday–”
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” asks Peter dryly as he takes his own chair.
A pause. “Santano – startled me. I overreacted. I don’t know what else to say…”
“Right. Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” Peter lets out a sigh and runs a tired hand over his face. “What’s important is that we need to find a new way to catch Angela in the act.”
“Isn’t it always that way?” asks Neal with a small smile.
“You don’t understand. We know Angela made IDs for the Irish mob. Organized Crime have their dibs on this case. If we screw up, if we don’t get some answers soon, Ruiz will take over – and be justified. … We need to solve this.”
Neal frowns. “Why Santano? Why’s this case so important?”
“Because it’s the best we got,” answers Peter honestly. “Our other cases are the Rodgers scam and the Nott fraud, neither of which is anyway near being closed. Angela’s still our best bet for a quick arrest.”
“You’re saying that like we’re on a deadline.”
Peter winces. “Not precisely, but…”
“But what? Peter–”
“There’s no explicit deadline…” Peter trails off before taking a deep breath. “I just need you to take this case seriously, okay? The Department of Justice had some concerns–”
“About what, me? And you didn’t tell me?” asks Neal in disbelief.
“I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily,” answers Peter. “Look, it’s not a big deal. We just need to prove we still make a good team and catch Angela–”
“A team.”
Something about the way Neal says it makes Peter uneasy. “Yeah, that’s right. We’re partners.”
“You sure about that, Peter?” asks Neal with deceptive calm.
“Of course I am. Neal–”
Humorless, Neal chuckles. “So what happens if we don’t catch her? Am I back in jail?”
“No, I mean, I’ll do my best to–”
“To lie to me? To keep this from me?”
“What? No, I– why are we even arguing?” Internally, Peter shakes his head. “Listen, catching criminals is part of your job. It’s what we do. We’ll catch Angela and all of this will become baseless.”
Neal opens his mouth before closing it again. “You’re right. Let’s focus on the case.”
Peter’s gut tells him there’s something off about all this, and suddenly he’s sick of these games and all the unspoken words. Has he done them more harm than good when he decided to give Neal space?
“What’s really wrong?” he asks quietly.
Neal stares at him in disbelief. “What do you think, Peter?”
“I know you’re grieving for Kate,” says Peter gently. “I’m sorry about what happened to her. I wish we could have done something to help her.” Neal’s blank face betrays no emotion. “Listen, why don’t you come over for dinner tonight.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“I insist,” says Peter with a small smile.
“Are you going to make me?” asks Neal boldly.
“No – damn it, Neal. Where is this coming from?”
A pause. “I just need some space, Peter,” says Neal at last.
Space. It’s what Mozzie has advocated. Then why does it feel like he’s missing something?
“You’re hiding something from me.”
Neal looks away. “I’m not–”
“It’s about Kate, isn’t it?” Peter presses.
“Would you drop it?” snaps Neal with a mix of pain and anger. When Peter doesn’t reply, Neal looks straight into his eyes. “I’m not hiding anything, Peter.”
A lie.
Peter swallows the bitter disappointment, even though he didn’t expect anything else. He nods. “Okay. Then let’s get back to our case.”
“What’s the plan?” asks Neal thoughtfully.
“Angela only goes to the club three times a week. Tomorrow, we will try to send Diana in. In the meantime...” Peter hands Neal a thick file.
“What’s this?”
“Angela’s financials,” says Peter with a hint of evil glee when he hears Neal’s groan. Serves him right. “If she was making money by her forging business, chances are we’ll find something here.”
“You’re making me look at numbers? Cruel and unusual.”
“You’ll survive,” says Peter dryly, his own copy already at his desk.
They really do need this case, and they’ll do they best to catch Angela. In the meantime, if Neal isn’t going to tell him what’s going on, Peter will have to figure it out on his own.
That’s just the way it is.
Reprogramming his anklet that night feels unusually grim. Neal thinks about Kate, her voice, her smile – and yet once again she’s not the only person on his mind.
‘We’re a team.’
But not for much longer.
Hiding back the anklet jammer, Neal puts on a leather jacket, trousers and a cap; once again, he’s sneaking around like a thief. He tries to remember a time when it wasn’t this way between them but all he finds are his earnest, pleaded promises when he was at Sing Sing; that it would be different once he got out; that he could go straight and give her whatever she wanted; that they would have their villa and their happily ever after. Kate just stared at him before telling him to get out in one piece.
He could never quite stop lying to her. This time, though, he’s going to keep his promises.
His trip down the stairs is quiet; if June knows about his late night excursions, she’s never said anything, but either way Neal tries not to interrupt her sleep. He slips outside and then starts walking. Every night, he takes a slightly different route – he once took the subway five stops in the opposite direction before heading back to Mozzie’s safehouse. It may be more time-consuming but it’s also safer that way, especially knowing that someone followed him during the day several times in the past few weeks. Still, there has been no indication that anyone knew about his night trips.
Until now.
Years of practice stop Neal from freezing when he realizes he has a tail. Forcing down his panic, he doesn’t look around and doesn’t break his step; he subtly checks the reflection in a shop window, but whoever’s following him is too smart to come that close. A few moments later, Neal seizes the opportunity and uses two passing cars to hide him as he changes direction. For a moment, he thinks that worked, but then he realizes his pursuer is still following him.
Damn.
If someone’s following him, then his situation just got that much direr. They’ll have to speed up their plans, whether they are ready or not. Torn between grief and anger, Neal acknowledges visiting Kate is out of question now, it’s simply too risky. He almost decides to just scratch today and walk back home, but what if the next time he doesn’t notice them?
The gun is still there in a concealed holster at the side of his hip.
He tries to shake them off one more time and fails, though this time he catches a glimpse of his tail in a shiny surface of a passing bus – it’s a tall man with broad shoulders, wearing a jacket. Making a snap decision, Neal scratches his initial tour plan and starts leading them to the smaller, shadier streets; in the corner of his eye, he spots a drug dealer with a customer, but he chooses the parallel alley; there are no cameras in those places, and as he takes another sharp turn he reaches for the revolver in his pants –
He presses his back against a house wall and waits; he’s estimated their distance at roughly twenty seconds. Six, seven, eight – he wonders who Adler sent; probably nobody he knows – fourteen, fifteen – a long time ago, he tried to emulate Adler almost as his role model; how did he never see the cold ruthlessness behind that benevolent mask? – twenty, twenty one – this was a bad idea, Neal realizes suddenly, but he can’t back out anymore if he wants to see Kate again–
The moment the man passes the corner, Neal jumps forward and aims the revolver at him, but his heart skips a beat when his pursuer is almost as fast with his own gun. He starts to press the trigger when he finally sees the man’s face –
“Peter?”
Part VI
