Fic: Everybody Loves Mr Caffrey
A new unlocked home for this fic.....
Title: Everybody Loves Mr Caffrey
Author: neptuneskisses
Rating: PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing: White Collar/Glee crossover (eek!). Mr Caffrey/Mr Schuester, Finn/Kurt, pre-slashy Peter/Neal
Spoilers: Minor ones to season one of both shows.
Warnings: Total silliness.
Summary: 'So what if he's a known felon! Look at his skill set!' Principal Figgins smiles broadly. 'And you know the best part, Schue? He can sing!'
Author's Note: from toestastegood 's commentmeme prompt 'Finn/Kurt, hulking', which made me laugh. Erm, it's in there somewhere!
‘
'Now, I hear that you kids have already been taught how to smuggle food items out of stores between your thighs, so advancing from there…..’
Mr Schue feels this might be a good time to break in.
‘Er, what your new Arts and Humanities teacher is trying to say is that he has a lot to offer you in a packed program over the next semester, and I’m sure we’ll all appreciate that!’ Will smiles a trifle too wildly and fails to generate a round of applause, his own claps fading off into excruciating silence.
The thing is, the students are still gazing in awe at Mr Caffrey. Mr Schue is cool and all, and that nurse ex-wife of his who gave everyone drugs was even better, but….Mr Caffrey is so hot it’s causing kids in the front row to faint, and it looks like he’s going to teach them no end of useful stuff….
***
Mr Schue sighs as he closes the door behind him, trying not to process the fact that he just heard the subject of Mr Caffrey’s next lesson was going to be how to make your very own driver’s license. There’s nothing he can do. As Principal Figgins has recounted to him several times over the last few months, trying to finance the dreams of the Cheerios and New Directions has forced the school to cut back further, primarily in relation to the costly directive about employing teachers with actual teaching qualifications. Will understands all this, but he thinks hiring from the FBI’s most wanted list is maybe taking a step too far.
‘So what if he’s a known felon! Look at his skill set!’ Principal Figgins beams proudly. ‘He can teach art and crafts, criminology…international relations…..’ he trails off. ‘Oh! And you know the best part, Schue?’ Figgins winks. ‘He can sing!’
Will gives the Prinicpal a weary pained look that has become somewhat a staple for him during his long years’ service at McKinley. ‘He’s thirty-one. Allegedly. And no he’s not going to forge any papers saying he never managed to graduate from here and is therefore eligible for Glee Club’. Figgins looks shifty, and Will rubs his eyes. It’s going to be a long day.
***
‘Stop….hulking over me!’ Kurt spits out in a whisper to Finn at the lockers after Mr Caffrey’s latest class. ‘It’s ….distracting. And it completely disrespects my right to be viewed from my most flattering vantage point, which is at face level - a normal person’s face level’.
Finn sighs and leans back a little. It’s not the first time since they started this, er, thing, that Kurt has made a point about feeling uncomfortable about their height difference. However, most of the time the caustic comments are accompanied by Kurt hanging down on Finn’s neck like it’s a monkey bar, until he’s in a bow shape and thus ready to kiss ‘in a spirit of equality’. Finn doesn’t mind being reprimanded if there’s some sweet tongue dancing available from someone pretty at the end of it, even if said pretty person is damn confusing at times.
Finn’s uncomfortably aware however that, at this moment, he is probably far from uppermost in Kurt’s mind. Nevertheless he needs to confront Kurt about what just happened at the end of Mr Caffrey’s lesson, before he starts assuming things that might not be true and ends up making an ass out of u and me, like the guidance leaflet warned against.
‘Look, um. Kurt. I, er, um, need to know what the deal is with you and Mr Caffrey’.
Kurt looks a little taken aback. ‘ He’s taught us for three lessons, Finn. That’s not really time for us to have developed a lasting perpetual bond’.
‘Yes, but, um, I’m your, um, your….’ He whispers the next few words conspiratorially, ‘…secret boyfriend now, and you ……you were flirting with him! Openly!’
Kurt doesn’t try to deny the undeniable. ‘Look, Finn, what you and I have is unbelievably special. Even though we apparently can never ever speak about it in public’. Finn blushes. ‘But sometimes, an artistic soul such as myself needs to forge a point of communion with a kindred spirit - a likeminded soul, if you will. It’s nothing to get jealous about, Finn. It’s ….a beautiful, spiritual thing’.
‘But Kurt, I heard you. You asked if you could give him a private display of pole dancing in the auditorium, promising to wear nothing but a garland on your head and a strategically placed fig leaf’.
It was Kurt’s turn to blush. ‘Well, it was for the Classics assignment’. He didn’t tell Finn exactly what Mr Caffrey had whispered in his ear straight after he had (admittedly graciously) declined Kurt’s offer. Which, Kurt shamefully remembers, was, to quote verbatim: ‘Sorry, jailbait baby. You’re very cute, but I’ve got my eye on a rather more mature Greek god in the McKinley pantheon. I like them a bit older’. And then Mr Caffrey had winked at him and slinked out of the classroom, leaving Kurt feeling slightly less sparkly and magnificent than a few minutes before.
Still, he thinks, turning towards Finn, he may not have forged a beautiful bond with Mr Caffrey - in any way that might be possible - but he does get to play jungle gym every night with a teen who’s kind of gorgeous and the size of two normal human beings stapled together, and there’s definitely a lot to be said for that.
***
‘Carry on my wayward so-o-on! There’ll be peace when you are done….’ Neal sings proud and loud across the auditorium.
Mr Schue stares unhappily at the unconventional auditionee in front of him. He’d been happily on his way to the staffroom with a new brand of detergent (active ingredient: napalm!) to show Emma. Suddenly, like a freak weather incident, he’d been waylaid by the slightly out of breath, shiny-eyed arts teacher-cum-wanted criminal, and was more or less persuaded to travel to the auditorium to hear him audition, the same way a tree branch doesn’t really have any choice once it’s fallen into the river but head straight down out to the sea (and then get crushed mercilessly on the rocks).
‘You’ve, er, certainly got the voice. And you really move well on stage…’ Will blushes slightly.
‘This is nothing. You should see me dancing to Ke$ha’s Tik Tok ! 'Neal says brightly, bouncing up and down a little on his heels. He senses he’s got this cute Spanish teacher on the ropes.
‘Ahem. Yes, But, Mr Caffrey…’
He swears he only looks down at his shoes for a moment, but when he looks back up again Neal’s no longer on the stage but right smack bang next to him, upsetting Will with his disconcerting stunningness. ‘ Please’, Neal purrs, forcing Will to look straight into his eyes. Jesus they’re blue. ‘No need to be so formal. Call me Neal, Will’. Will tries not to whimper at the mischievously seductive tone the new arts teacher uses when uttering his name. Damn it, there’s something about Mr Caffrey that is making him shake like he’s a virgin teenager. He’s a grown-up ex-married man, he needs to get a grip!
Recovering, he tries again. ‘It’s just that, er, as I said when you were propelling me down the corridor - as I said several times in fact - you’re not technically eligible for Glee Club. You’re not a student, and, um, let’s face facts, whilst nobody’s perfect you’re actually on the run from the law, and….. you’re nuzzling my neck!.’
‘Relax, Will, you’re so tense’. Mr Caffrey - no way is he going to call him Neal - is right behind him now, has started to massage his shoulders and neck, and, well, Will hasn’t felt this sort of touch from anyone since Terri left, and hey, it’s just a colleague helping a fellow colleague out with some relaxation techniques, isn’t it?
‘Thing is, Will’, Neal continues behind him, pausing to lick and nibble at Will’s earlobe with his tongue, ‘Just between you and me I don’t actually have any need of a job here. And nor do I have any real desire to join your show club… choir, whatever’.
He playfully tugs Will’s T-shirt out from the back of his jeans and begins to lightly stroke the small of Will’s back with one finger, just below the belt line and along the swell of his ass. Will’s desperately hanging on to the ‘colleagues helping each other relax’ scenario but he feels the plausibility of that reasoning steadily ebbing away with each passing moment. ‘Yes, I am on the run for the law,’ Neal continues. Thing is…’ and he chuckles, ‘…I actually want to get caught. Don’t tell anybody, but I have a great plan to steal my way into a nice little position as a ‘consultant’ for my rather attractive FBI pursuer. But I don’t want to make it too easy for him to find me’.
Neal’s taken Will’s T-shirt off completely now, with a little murmured ‘there you go, baby’, and Will’s completely surrendered to the flow of fate at this point in the game.
‘All I’ve done’, Neal continues, ‘ is sent a video of myself in this very auditorium singing Don’t Stop Believin’, with your lovely obliging Glee Club members singing backup, and sent it to the Feds. I’m waiting for Peter to find me via a careful analysis of the cut and style of the red T-shirts we’re wearing (only available at a few selected Wal-Marts in Western Ohio) , matched with a detailed study of the way the paint has peeled on the auditorium wall behind us (demonstrably only possible in the environmental conditions of a few high schools in the Lima vicinity). And in the meantime, there’s no harm in getting into practice romancing another older man, is there?’
‘I’m the same age as you!’ Will splutters, but has to stop talking when Neal guides him down onto the auditorium floor and begins to undo his jeans.
‘Be careful with the floor, I have to buff it later’ , Will stutters out weakly, before losing the power of thought altogether.
***
Outside the school, Kurt and Finn are one of the last sets of students exiting the building. As usual they’re bickering, this time over whether Kurt is justified in spending 10 times more on clothes than Finn, even though Finn is taller and therefore actually needs more volume of material in order to cover himself.
‘ Exactly, you have so much surface area you have to concentrate on minimal basic provision’, Kurt argues forcefully, swirling his slushie cup in the air for emphasis. ‘ I, however, am free to concentrate quality resources on areas where it is most needed - at present, formal footwear and scarf accessories that help one blend seamlessly from day into evening’.
Finn’s trying to formulate a coherent reply to this when they are interrupted by a cavalcade of about forty huge vans and what looks like a small armoured truck pouring through the gates of the School and screeching to a halt. Initially unfazed, assuming it is Sue Sylvester’s new transport for the Cheerios, the duo are shocked into gawping silence as the doors to the vehicles open and a stream of armed FBI agents in flak jackets pile out. ‘What the hell did Puck do?’ they both wonder, as their slushies fall to the floor. Damn it! They’ll never win Nationals without his rendition of Sweet Caroline!
***
Inside the auditorium, the half undressed teachers are now surrounded by the cold hard hand of the law. And no one’s looking more coldly than Agent Peter Burke is at the conman on the floor below him. Somehow, the thrill of capturing Neal Caffrey is this time somewhat lessened by finding him in an amorous and rather un-scholarly embrace with the leader of McKinley High’s show choir.
‘What took you so long? Was the traffic a bitch?’ Neal sits up and smiles sweetly at Peter, after one last leisurely lick at the nipple of a now mortified Mr Schue.
‘You broke out of jail, with a few months left of a four year sentence, to…..’ - Peter doesn’t want to say ‘cavort with a supple, manly teacher’ so he settles on another disconcerting aspect of this whole fiasco - ‘….join a show choir in Lima, Ohio?’
‘He’s not eligible!’ Will pipes up from the floor. They both ignore him.
‘What can I say?’ Neal sparkles his eyes at Peter. ‘I came across a guidance counseling leaflet entitled So you want to forge your mother’s signature? during my prison group therapy sessions. McKinley High’s logo was stamped on the back, and after seeing the name the rest of my plan just neatly fell into place. There was also something else about an ex-girlfriend and a wine bottle, but I kind of got distracted. Can we go now, honey?’
‘Of course, dear’ Peter sighs, swiftly pulling up a boneless McCaffrey from the floor by his handcuffs into a standing position like a mother cat unceremoniously using its jaw to hoist up a kitten. ‘You know, I was diverted from an important case to come and get you. Again.’
‘Hmm, yeah. Look, Peter, you’ve got a speck of lint on your shoulder. If I tell you what the lint is and how it might help you solve the case, can I get to work with you for the next four years catching criminals, whilst remaining slightly ambiguous about my motives, after-hours activities and overall trustworthiness?’
‘Yes, very probably’, Peter sighs wearily. ‘Who can ever deny you?’ He rubs his temples. ‘Now, get your clothes on, kiss the nice teacher goodbye and get in the van. School’s out for summer’.
With a slight pang of regret at leaving the hallowed halls of learning that is McKinley High without having even managed to recruit a gang of pupils to pull a bank heist for him (that strange pole dancing kid showed real promise), Neal settles down for the journey back to the airport. At least he’d managed to melt all Sue Sylvester’s trophies down into gold bars and give some to Principal Higgins in exchange for releasing Mr Schuester from his janitorial duties. He’ll stash the rest away in his secret cache, along with this gaudy music box that Sue kept her vitamin D in. He’s got a plan to give it a bit of a makeover, pretend it’s a Russian antique and watch the fun begin. He rubs his hands and gives Peter a dazzling grin. Ah, it’s going to be a great four years.
Supporting Evidence
Agent Burke helping Mr Caffrey relive his audition of Carry On Wayward Son
Mr Caffrey dancing to Ke$ha's Tik Tok (with an undercover Agent Burke)