White Collar Fic "A Friend In Need" Parts 1 & 2
A Friend In Need
Rating: PG
Summary: Peter has to leave town, El has to deal with an annoying customer and Neal calls in a few favors. You can always count on your friends, right?
Pairing: Peter/El, Neal (gen)
Spoilers: Not really
Word count: ~ 10.000
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, it's sad but true.
Notes: A huge THANK YOU to Sedona (from the USA Network Forum) for your incredible help!!! She wrote the Elizabeth and Peter scenes and gave me much needed insight as well as helpful hints. Also I want to say THANK YOU to Chicca (also from the USA Network Forum and the Tim DeKay Forum) for her help with the translation of the Italian sentences! Mille grazie!
Chapter 1
Elizabeth Burke scurried around in the predawn darkness, gathering her purse, coat and keys all the while reassuring Satchmo, ‘I won’t be gone long.’ Her husband, Peter, came down the stairs carrying a suitcase and wearing his bad news face.
"I still can’t believe I have to fly all the way to Los Angeles for this," he grumbled, trying to negotiate the narrow stairs with the bag and the curious dog at the bottom. "I thought we were supposed to cut back on expenses; instead I get shipped out to a conference that could have been held on the east coast just as well."
Elizabeth smiled, having heard these complaints quite frequently ever since the memo had come down directing that Peter must attend. "Relax," she assured him. "It will be good for you to get away, even for three nights." She ran her hand across the back of his neck and frowned, just a bit. "You’ve been so tense lately; just pretend you’re listening to what they have to say and then go to the bar with your buddies in the evening. Have some fun."
Predictably, Peter frowned and managed to look miserable at the same time as he put down the case and took the coat Elizabeth held out to him in her other hand. "This is a bad time to be gone," he muttered.
"Neal?" she asked.
Peter grimaced. "Who else?"
"Maybe he’ll surprise you and behave," El said lightly while mentally making sure Peter had everything.
"That would be the day," Peter said irritably. "El, when he ran out of that office yesterday, he risked the success of the operation, telling the suspect insider information. Just because he had a hunch about our suspect. Not to mention that he put Jones in danger doing this! For a moment there I thought there would be a gunfight and all would end up dead. If he was an agent, I’d write him up for that."
"He’s not agent," Elizabeth gently pointed out. "And Jones got himself out of the situation without getting injured."
"That is because Jones is a damn fine agent." Peter put down his case and ran his hand over the back of his neck Elizabeth had just removed her hands from, placing them instead at her husband’s waist. "Are you trying to distract me from my totally justified wrath?"
Elizabeth smiled at the husky timbre of his voice. "Hon, I would love to distract you but you have a plane to catch and I have a ton of stuff to do before the party tomorrow night. There is nothing you can do about Neal now, so go out there and have some fun and some Neal free days. You can talk to him when you get back."
Peter remained glum although the light in his eyes shone with the warmth that was for her alone. "All right. I’ll call you tonight."
"It might be late; I have to get with the caterer and make sure the florist has everything ready for tomorrow. If G.P. Wilson sees a wilted flower at his board of directors’ party, there will be hell to pay." Almost involuntarily, Elizabeth’s mind had switched over to the list of things to be done and when she looked at Peter she realized he was smiling. He knew her mind had wandered. Heaven knew she had seen him do it many times. "Oh. I guess you caught me."
Peter pulled her close and kissed her hungrily. "I will always catch you. It’s my life’s work."
~*~*~
Traffic was bad to the airport and Peter had very little time left to go through security and reach his gate. But El knew if anyone could do it, it would be Peter. She worried, just a little, on the drive back about her husband. He and Neal had been sniping at each other again; at first it was trivial but this last round had Neal running off on impulse and he had inadvertently endangered Jones. The danger had been minimal; well, if one could say having a gun pointed at you for a fast moment was minimal. But it had been completely unnecessary. Peter had exploded, Jones had said a few choice words and Neal, his pride wounded, had stalked off to pout. Really, men could be so dense at times.
This had caused Peter a near sleepless night before he left which, in turn, had caused El to lose some sleep even though her husband had tried not to disturb her. Hopefully, upon Peter’s return, things would right themselves on their own. If not, perhaps she should arrange a lunch with the two of them. Or knock their heads together. Whatever worked.
Satchmo pulled on his leash ahead of her, relishing the cool day and crisp air. On days like this, he tended to forget his obedience training and the way he was pulling, El wished she had had Peter take him out for a short walk before he left. Oh well. “You’re just going to have to put up with your Mom and some short walks for the next day or so,” she informed the Lab. “We’ll relax for a day and then your father will be home. I’ll let you pull him around the block then.”
Mentally running through the daunting list of what needed to be done, Elizabeth did not see the squirrel dart out from the small tree ahead. But Satch did. He gave a tremendous pull on the leash and started out in hot pursuit. Taken off guard, El staggered and then her foot caught on a segment of sidewalk that had been raised by the tree’s roots. Twisted, her foot rolled sideways under her and unbelievable pain shot up her leg. She nearly fell but managed to hold on to the dog that, reluctantly, had given up on the squirrel and now looked somewhat shame faced back at her.
Oh, God, this hurts! Elizabeth tried to tell herself this would pass and soon she could hobble home but the pain was breath taking. She’d once seen Peter roll an ankle playing basketball with some fellow agents; she knew he was hurt; for one thing, he had to hobble over to where she was with the assistance of Clinton Jones and young Agent Blake. (Thankfully Neal was not present to see that.) But until now, she had no true idea of the pain her stoic husband had been in.
Looking around to make sure no one had noticed the silly woman with the out of control dog, she and a contrite Satchmo went back home, moving slowly.
It will pass. Just stay off of it for a while. It will pass.
Okay. She could do some of this at home, while on the phone. She would elevate her ankle and put ice on it. It would be okay.
But what a time for this to happen!
Carefully hobbling into the kitchen, El leaned at the big table in the middle of the room and let out a deep breath. The way up the stairs towards the front door had been a challenge, but in the end she had managed to enter the house without any other incidents. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next.
Right. Ice. Elevate. That should work.
A few moments later she slowly limped back into the living room where she could see Satchmo laying next to the sofa. She wasn't angry at him, since it was her own fault that she hadn't been paying attention at the park. But the timing was bad. Very bad. Holding an ice pack in one hand and her cell phone in the other she sat down and propped her now badly swollen right ankle on the sofa. Then she draped a towel over it before she applied the ice pack on it. Leaning back, she closed her eyes again and took deep breaths to calm down. She was still upset about the whole thing, but she needed to stay collected. She needed to get in touch with her assistant Yvonne and everything would be alright. The G.P. Wilson party was too important to be canceled at all and she doubted that Wilson would accept it anyway. At least he would sue her for everything that would go wrong. Picking up her cell phone, she pressed "5" on speed dial and waited impatiently.
"Hi, you just reached Yvonne. I'm not available at the moment. Please leave a message and I will call you back. Bye."
Sighing, El was about to quit the call. She ran a hand through her hair, slowly getting frustrated.
Great. Just great.
"Hi Yvonne. It's Elizabeth. I know it's kind of a short term, but I need your help with the G.P. Wilson party. Please call back. Thanks." She put the cell back on the table and wasn't sure what to do next. Maybe she just overreacted. Maybe with the ice cooling her ankle she would be able to get back to work again. Carefully she moved her right foot a bit and immediately a sharp pain shot through her feet. "Ouch!"
Okay, so much for being confident.
Looking at her watch she realized that Peter still would be sitting in the plane so there was no way to call him right now. And even if she had been able to reach him, there was nothing that he could have done to help her. All she could do now was to wait for Yvonne to call back. There was still time left so nothing was at stake. There was no need to panic. Everything would be okay.
~*~*~
"Caffrey!" Hughes stood in front of his office and was performing the double finger point.
Neal looked up to him and then back to Jones. Since Peter was out of town, he would be handled by someone else and Neal wasn't sure if that was a good thing. Especially after he had risked the whole investigation and put Jones in unnecessary danger. Not that he had planned to do it, but things went out of his control and he chose to handle things off the book. Unfortunately things had gone worse and for a split second the situation had been out of control. Presumably Hughes was about to give him a lecture. Just like Peter had done. Readjusting his tie, he put on his well known Caffrey smile and started to climb the stairs. "Sir?"
The older agent just pointed towards the office and otherwise stayed silent. It wasn't a secret that he wasn't exactly fond of the former con man and Peter had more than once needed his whole persuasiveness towards his boss to keep partnership between the FBI and Neal working. He stepped into the office once Neal had entered it. "Sit down," he told Neal and then rounded his desk but didn't sit down. Instead he stared at the young man and seemed to be searching for the right words.
Neal obeyed, unsure what to expect. But he didn't show his insecurity. He was a con man at all and still flashed his smile.
Hughes on the other hand looked more than agitated. "I've read Peter's report about what happened yesterday," he started. "And to be honest, I was about to put you back into prison for what you did."
Wow, Peter had been fast with his report. He must have emailed it to Hughes before leaving town. "Sir, I had to improvise-"
"Don't say a word," Hughes warned him with his right index finger raised. "You'll listen to me and then you'll do what you've been told. Understood?"
"Absolutely," Neal nodded and felt a bit uneasy. It wasn't useful to argue with Peter's boss.
"Alright," Hughes continued with a low voice. "Peter insisted that I shouldn't press charges against you. Why, I don't know. You play a very dangerous game, Caffrey. I don't care if you kill yourself with those stupid actions of yours. But the moment one of my agents is harmed because of you there's no way to stop me sending you back. Got that?"
"Yes, sir."
"For the next three days, until Peter is back, you'll be doing paperwork and Diana will be in charge of you."
Without showing his surprise, Neal nodded again. Being handled by Diana wasn't something he was looking forward to. Ever since she threatened him to break one or both of his arms if he would try pull anything over her he had to be cautious. Because he was sure she would fulfill her threat without hesitation. Plus, his Caffrey charm never worked on her.
"You can go now."
"Yes, sir. Thank you sir." He stood up and left the office still somewhat stunned about what just had happened. Yet, the things could have been worse. Three days of paperwork were certainly far better than being sent back to prison. He could handle that. Somehow. He just needed to find Agent Blake and convince him to write some more reports. For training purposes only of course.
Jones looked up to him. "How did it go?" After he had calmed down yesterday he wasn't angry anymore. He was well aware that Neal had exposed him to a very dangerous situation, but on the other hand - working with Neal held that certain amount of thrill of having a target on the back. Or having to fear that someone would point a gun to his head. It wasn’t something he wanted to happen every day but, in hindsight, the danger wasn’t as bad as some of the situations Jones had been in before. Just… unexpected.
"I'm handled by Diana now," Neal answered.
Jones grinned. "Sorry for that."
"Yeah, well," Neal snorted, "I can clearly see that."
"Hey, it's only fair," Jones countered, still smiling.
"And for the next three days it's desk duty only." He made a face and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
"You're a lucky man," Jones said nonchalantly. "At least you're not assigned to the van."
A light shiver rand down his spine. Jones was right. "On second thought it isn't that bad at all," he quickly replied. Then he held out his hand. "I'm truly sorry about what happened yesterday."
Jones hesitated for a moment. "Just don't do something like that again. At least not when I'm involved."
Neal was about to say something, when Diana stepped towards them. "Caffrey, stop chit-chatting," she told him and clearly seemed to enjoy the moment. "Those files need to be completed."
Chapter 2
Late afternoon sunlight came through the window as Elizabeth Burke duly sat, ankle elevated and frantically working the phone trying again to reach Yvonne and get the caterer straight about what was expected, no, demanded of her. She sighed; no word from Yvonne (now she was worried there, hoping nothing bad had occurred) and elevating her ankle had done nothing more than give her a nice view of it swelling more by the moment. It was still incredibly painful and Satchmo had spent the afternoon outside simply because she just hurt too much to jump up and down to cater to the dog’s whims.
The phone rang, interrupting her dark thoughts. She smiled when she saw the caller ID. "Hi, hon."
"Hey, hon," Peter’s voice never seemed so welcome, even if he were across the country. "I’m sitting here in a pretty swank hotel, just wishing I could see my lovely wife sitting here with me."
El smiled even wider. "Oh really? You mean you haven’t been hit on yet by those beautiful coed agents the Bureau recruits these days?"
She could just picture Peter’s boyish grin. "Ah, no. But I’ve been told to hang out in the bar. So, maybe then."
"You’d better watch it, Agent Burke. I’ll come and get you if I have to." She paused. "Provided I don’t have to walk."
Peter’s voice took on a worried tone. "Walk? What happened?"
"Oh, it is just so stupid. I took Satch out for a walk after you left and he saw a squirrel and then my ankle got twisted and-"
"What?" Her husband was on full alert now. "How bad is it? Do you need to see the doctor?"
El sighed. "It has swelled up and it hurts but I don’t think it is doctor worthy. It’s not as bad as yours was after that basketball game."
"Yeah, but I didn’t have some fat cat event to take care of the next day. El, what are you going to do about that?"
"I’ll be all right," Elizabeth said firmly, fingers crossed hopefully.
"I don’t like this," Peter worried. "Look, there are any number of people I could call and take you to the doctor-"
"Now, hold on, mister," Elizabeth cut in. "I can handle this and it will be okay. I probably shouldn’t have told you but-"
"But how would you feel if I did that and I didn’t tell you," Peter shot back.
She smiled. "Point taken. And I did tell you, babe. Look, I don’t want you worrying about this. There is nothing you can do about it and I can handle the event. I’m just waiting a call back from Yvonne. It will be fine. Now, tell me what you’re doing tonight."
There was a pause, which told Elizabeth that Peter was still fretting. Finally, he said, "Not much tonight. Going to dinner with Larry Carlson from Philly, along with some others. Probably just sit around, drink and exchange war stories. The seminar doesn’t start until tomorrow morning. Then, we’ll all be hung over."
Elizabeth laughed and they chatted over some other things, until said Larry Carlson knocked on Peter’s door, wanting to know if he could ‘come out and play.’ Very reluctantly, Peter, given a verbal push by El, hung up, promising to call back later. El clicked off the phone, feeling better for having told Peter but also a bit guilty, for he would be sure and worry about it tonight when he should be having fun.
She sighed; she had to stop panicking and grow up. And damn it, where was Yvonne?
~*~*~
Eight hours, a lot of coffee and a ton of files later, Neal sighed and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't been able to get a hold of Agent Blake so he needed plan B. Unfortunately there was no plan B so far. But even more so he needed a break. Yawning he stood up and stretched his legs while looking for Diana. He found her talking with Hughes and frowned. Those two were up to something and it annoyed him not knowing about it, although he suspected Peter behind all of this. It was Peter's way to show him that he had screwed up. And the problem was, Neal was well aware of his mistake but hadn't been able to say his apology to Peter. His partner had been fuming all the way back to the bureau and he had been sulking so both of them weren't talking to each other. And now Peter was on the other side of the country which meant he had to behave for at least another 2 days unless he didn't want to find himself into more trouble. Convinced that he had finished a relevant amount but still useless paperwork, he made his way to Diana who had spotted him as well and came towards him. "Do you like a coffee?" he asked her with the sweetest grin he could offer. It was worth a try at least.
"Why do you ask?"
"Just out of curiosity?"
"Oh c'mon Caffrey, you just want to go home," Diana told him bluntly. "And therefore you try to please me."
This woman scared the hell out of him sometimes. No wonder Peter was glad to have her back at the team. Both of them had the same attitude. "Uhm, yeah, well…that thought crossed my mind actually. I mean, that I could go home," he quickly added. "There's no way I would try to please you," he said and shook his head. "Above all, I'm almost done." Proudly he pointed to the stack of files that sat on his desk. "I'll even take the rest of it home and finish it this evening. Promise." He held up his hand like a boy scout. Maybe he could get some help from Mozzie with the files. His friend would love to take a look at those. At first he thought she would condemn him to more paperwork, so he tinkled with the eyelashes. "Pretty please?"
Diana let out a frustrated sigh. "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning seven o'clock sharp."
"I'll be waiting," Neal smiled and was to reply more as his cell phone rang. "Excuse me," he said and grabbed it. After a quick glance at the ID he accepted the call. "Hi Elizabeth. What's up?"
~*~*~
Instead of going home Neal found himself in front of the Burke house in Brooklyn. After he had knocked on the front door, he waited patiently but still clueless. Elizabeth's phone call earlier this evening had been a bit cryptic. If she wanted to talk about Peter then he wasn't in the mood for it. Hughes had already made a point about behaving so he didn't need another reminder. To be honest, all he wanted was to get home real soon so that he could finish the files because he had a special date planned for tomorrow evening. His plan was simple - the more files he would finish tonight, the less he had to do tomorrow evening. For months he had longed to visit the art exhibition taking place at the Guggenheim Museum. And the best thing about that was that the Museum was exactly within his 2 miles radius! He smiled when he heard noises and reached for his bag with the files as the door was opened. But his smile vanished as soon as he realized that El was standing on one foot only. "Elizabeth?!" Immediately he let go of the bag and grabbed El's arm instead. "What happened?" he asked concerned.
"A lot," El replied and sighed. She took a deep breath and leaned against Neal. "Everything is a mess and Yvonne called in sick and I am out of options at this point," she said. Her body language was clear; she was hurting and frustrated and above all frustrated and desperate obviously because she had no help.
"Shh," Neal tried to calm her down. It was obvious that El was very upset. "Why don't we sit down and you explain to me what has happened to you?" Gently he guided her to the couch while at the same time he tried to avoid Satchmo who was constantly running around them. "Easy, pal. Easy," he approached the dog hoping that none of them would trip over him. As soon as they reached the couch, Neal helped her to sit and then stood up. "Do you want a glass of water?" he asked but didn't wait for an answer and went straight to the kitchen. A few moments later he returned and placed the glass on the table.
El nodded thankfully but didn't reach for the water. Instead she chuckled. "You know, I feel slightly embarrassed over the fuss. But to be honest, I really have nowhere to turn to."
Neal sat down next to her and embraced her with one arm. "Well," he said calmly, "why don't you telling me what's embarrassing you?" Although he sounded composed he was agitated inside because of the strange behavior of El. He could feel that El relaxed a bit and he continued to gently rub his hand up and down her upper arm. "How did you hurt your ankle?" he asked in order to start a conversation.
"It…it was my fault, not Satchmo’s." She shook her head. "Sorry, I don't make any sense, do I?"
Neal smiled slightly. "Not quite. What did Satchmo do?"
"We were at the park this morning and then…I was lost in thoughts and I didn't pay attention. Satch saw a squirrel and wanted to go after it and I…my foot got caught and I twisted it."
"Ouch," Neal said and made a face. "Did you get checked out?"
"God, no! It's just a twisted ankle, Neal. I just need to put some ice on it. It'll be fine."
Being a good observer he said, "You seem quite upset, though."
Frustrated she ran a hand through her hair. "Tomorrow there will be a party and I'm supposed to host it. First I thought that I could handle things from home and that Yvonne would step in. But she called me two hours ago and said that she has come down with the flu and now I'm back at square one. Even worse, I just called the caterer to check things over again," she stopped and shook her head in disbelieve, "and have to learn that they messed up with the schedules. Which means there will be no food at the party. And I can't find another one in this short amount of time." Despite the serious situation, she appeared calm when she added, "I have a mess on my hand and I don't know quite what to do."
Neal pulled his cell phone out of his inside pocket. "There will always be hope," he replied softly while he was already looking for solutions. "So…tell me about the party."
El blinked, obviously surprised by his confidence.
Shrugging with his shoulders, Neal started to grin. "If I am going to help you, I need as much information as possible."
"I really hate to ask you this, Neal, but-"
"No buts," Neal shook his head. "I'm already in, El."
~*~*~
She had just made her painful way up to bed when the phone rang. There was no need to look at the number. "Hi, hon."
"El, how are you doing?" Peter’s worry was evident in his voice.
She sighed; knowing he was probably ruining his time away with fretting about her. "I’m all right. Made it up the stairs," she added with a nervous laugh. She had assured Neal there would be no problem before he left but it had been a slow process.
"El, I can tell them I have a situation at home and I need to leave tomorrow. There’s a flight going out at 8am; I could be on it."
"Peter, if I were in the hospital I would tell you to take that flight right now. But I’m not and I don’t think the Bureau would approve of you coming home just to help me with an event."
"What happened to Yvonne?" Peter asked flatly, like he had already guessed there was trouble.
El frowned; it really was so tiresome being married to a smart man sometimes. "She, uh, is sick."
Her short answers had ratcheted up her husband’s worry. "Okay, what is going on? How are you handling this?"
Elizabeth visibly composed herself. "Okay, Agent Burke. Here is the situation. Yvonne is ill and she can’t help me for the event. My ankle hurts - big time. But I have help; really good help." She paused. "I called Neal."
There was a long silence on the line, so much so that El began to worry that Peter’s cell had dropped the call.
"Peter, say something! Are you upset?"
After an audible sigh, her husband finally spoke. "El, I am so sorry I’m not there."
"Peter, it is not the end of the world. Although earlier today I thought it might be. I really kind of freaked out over the whole thing. But Neal came right over when I called and he is going to help me tomorrow." A light dawned. "But this will make it awkward for you at work, won’t it?"
"Well, it is pretty tough to discipline somebody who is helping your wife out, on his own time. But that isn’t my primary concern, El. I should be there."
"And I wish you were here. But I am not going to have you in trouble at work because I took a fall. Neal will be here and he will help me. You don’t doubt that, do you?"
"No," Peter answered promptly, to her great relief. "You can count on him, El."
"Then we’ll deal with everything else after you get back," Elizabeth replied firmly. After that the talk drifted to trivial things and ended with her commanding her husband to go back downstairs to the bar and have some fun. After they hung up, she sat on the edge of the bed, looking thoughtful. Neal had done some very questionable things to her husband and some downright sneaky ones. But she truly believed he would not use this situation to his advantage. If nothing else, there was no Kate to find, nor treasure to hang onto. But she hoped she hadn’t put Peter in a difficult situation nonetheless.
To be continued...