Schemes & Dreams
Title: Schemes and Dreams
Author: J. Rosemary Moss
Fandom: White Collar
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own White Collar
Rating: PG
Pairing: Peter/Neal friendship and/or pre-slash
Spoilers: Home Invasion; Bottlenecked
Wordcount: 961
Warnings: None
Summary: Neal's attempt to rescue Peter from an alleged phobia: a missing scene for Bottlenecked.
~oOo~
What the hell had I just agreed to?
I sighed and took another sip of my beer as Neal put his bottle down and stood up. I thought he was getting ready to leave, but he took his jacket off instead and sat down again with an excited, eager look on his face.
“This’ll be great, Peter,” he said. “Don’t worry--I’ll make sure you look the part of a wealthy connoisseur. We can go shopping tomorrow morning. I’ve been waiting for a chance to pick out a new tie for you . . .”
I opened my mouth to object, but found it too hard to damper the kid’s enthusiasm. I settled for sighing again instead, and surrendered to the idea of Neal Caffrey as my fashion consultant.
He did most of the talking for the next half hour. I leaned back in my chair as he told me about the woman I would meet, his plan for getting into the vault and his projected victory over his old rival.
He was happy to have me on board for one of his schemes, I realized. Well, that made sense. But why was I so damned happy to be one of his conspirators?
At last Neal glanced at the clock, then gave me an uncertain look. “Am I keeping you up?”
I shook my head. “No--I always stay up late when El’s not here.”
Those blue eyes of his narrowed with curiosity. “Why?”
I shrugged. “I don’t like sleeping alone.”
He didn’t seem to understand. “What do you mean?”
I rolled my eyes. The alcohol in my system must have mellowed me--otherwise there was no reason I should be explaining myself to Caffrey.
“I’ve been married over ten years, Neal. I’m used to having Elizabeth beside me. I hate going to bed by myself--or even sleeping in a room by myself.”
Neal stared at me. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?”
I laughed. “No. I’m just used to having a warm body at my side, that’s all. I toss and turn a lot when El’s missing.”
He grinned. “What about Satch?”
“He’s not allowed on the bed, per El. He tends to rip her gazillion-thread-count sheets.”
Neal nodded knowingly. “I’m not surprised that Elizabeth has a taste for, ah, fine bedding.” He paused to frown. “I wish you had told me this, Peter. I wouldn’t have kicked you out of June’s place if I’d known you were afraid to sleep by yourself.”
I rolled my eyes again. Trust Caffrey to turn a simple preference into some dramatic phobia on my part. “I’m not afraid to, Neal. I just don’t like to. Don’t worry about me--I’ll cowboy up.”
But the kid shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice firm. “I’m staying with you tonight.”
I gave him another shrug. “You can crash in the guest room if you want to.”
“What good would that do? I’ll sleep with you.”
I gave him a look.
“In a completely hetero-buddy way,” he clarified. “Like when you stayed at my place and couldn’t get comfortable on the couch.”
“No thanks,” I said. “I don’t need any more complaints from you about my snoring.”
He had the grace to look abashed. “I made that up for the sake of our Japanese friends--you don’t snore that badly.”
“You just wanted me out of your place, huh?”
He favored me with a small smile. “I wanted to punish you.”
“By putting me up in that gorgeous hotel room?”
His smile widened until it was a genuine, irresistible Caffrey-grin. “By depriving you of my company. Did it work?”
I couldn’t stop myself from flashing him an answering grin. “Yeah. Whether I deserved the punishment is another question.”
“You did,” he insisted. “But we can talk about that another time. It’s going to take me a while to teach you the error of your ways.” He paused to stand up. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”
I nodded, knowing it was pointless to argue with him. If I relegated him to the guest room, I’d wake up with him in my bed regardless. Neal’s not good at taking no for an answer--especially when he thinks he’s doing me a favor. Or, God help me, protecting me from an alleged phobia.
By the time I cleaned up the bottles and trudged upstairs Neal was already curled up in bed with the covers mounted on top of him. His eyes were closed, but he piped up as I sat down to remove my shoes.
“You’re going to have to put up with me at the breakfast table tomorrow, Peter. I know how much you love having me here for breakfast.”
I grinned and reached out to tousle his hair. “If you can put up with my snoring, I can put up with your company first thing in the morning.”
He nodded, apparently satisfied.
I slipped into my side of the bed, making sure to keep an appropriate hetero-buddy distance between us. God, how I wished El could see us now. She would have a good laugh at my expense and she’d have something to say about the alleged ‘flirting’ she sees between me and my pet convict. And then she would give me that teasing smile of hers as she assured me that she didn’t mind sharing me with Neal.
Neal chose that moment to roll over closer to me . . . so close that his head was almost on my shoulder. I stifled the urge to groan and put a companionable arm around him instead. Then I let myself drift off--and I slept soundly through the night, with no tossing and turning at all.
~The End~