Fic: The Tax Man (PG) [Peter/Neal]
Title: The Tax Man
Author: turtlebaby_02
Characters (Pairings): Peter/Neal
Rating :PG
Word Count: 1600ish
Warnings:AU, Unbeta'd
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. I'm just playing.
Summary:Short strange AU where Peter's not FBI and Neal's not a criminal, but fate brings them together anyway.
Authors Notes: In, uh, celebration of April 15th beings Tax Day here in the US - I bring you this. Straight from the crazy place inside my head. Also, lj wants to mess up my formatting - so if it looks weird, bear with me, I'm working on it.
Peter left the small cafe with the most amazing latte the city could provide and a smile on his face. It was an especially stressful time of year for him so taking small pleasures was his way of holding onto his sanity.
He was lost somewhere deep in his own thoughts, nothing important - just contemplating where best to get dinner that night - when something (someone) up ahead caught his attention.
It could have been then dress. Or the headpiece. Or possibly the Styrofoam torch being waved about - but Peter found himself slowing in front of the accounting firm, amused entirely that the man in the costume didn't seem at all phased that the real lady liberty could barely be seen over his shoulder.
"Hi!" He noticed Peter's attention and came closer. The sign he'd been waving was deftly tucked under his arm and he produced a coupon with a flourish. "If you're interested, we've got a promotion running until the end of the month. Great deal on individual returns!"
Oh, Peter was interested, but not in the promotion. More like in the promotee. "Um." For the first time in a long time Peter found himself at a loss for words. "Thanks." Damn the man and his blinding smile and ability to make even the unflattering stock costume look good. Damn good.
He didn't even realize he was being ushered toward the door until the bell chimed as the other man pulled it open. Crystal blue eyes met his as he stepped into the office, he was clearly being hypnotized. "Maybe I'll see you around again?" He nodded toward the desk. "Patti will take good care of you." And then he winked and Peter went hot all over even as he dropped the door and returned to his post outside.
Peter turned and took in his surroundings; just a nondescript office with beige walls and burgundy furniture. He felt dazed. He shook his head lightly and uncrumpled his fingers from around the coupon in his hand.
"Hi there!" He turned his head toward the voice and met the eyes of a grinning redhead. She quirked an eyebrow and gave him an understanding smile. "Neal has that effect."
"Neal?" He felt lost in a lust fog.
"Lady Liberty out there. Don't worry, you're not the first to stumble in here with no idea why." She offered her hand and he shook it. "I'm Claire, let's go back to my office and we'll see if there's anything we can help you with. If you've already filed..."
Peter nodded and flushed again. He had.
"We can take another look at your return and just do a double check." She was definitely smirking at him now. "I'm guessing you don't have any paperwork with you?"
He was pretty sure he was going to stay this red forever. "No. No, I didn't um, expect to be here. Today. At all. I should go."
"Or," She turned him gently toward the back of the offices. "I can get you a donut to go with your coffee, you can give me a rundown of your taxes and claims, and I can see if we can help in any way."
Peter shrugged. He's learned a lot of lessons in his 40 plus years on earth. The biggest being that sometimes fate had a funny way of pointing you in the right direction. "Ok. That sounds good."
--
He made an appointment to return, why; he had no idea, but four days later when he returned lugging a file box full of receipts and other miscellaneous paperwork Neal rushed to pull the door for him. "You're back!" He was doing that thing again, you know - breathing - that made Peter a little weak in the knees.
"A double check never hurts." At least he words were working this time. He set the box down inside the door and turned back, but Neal wasn't behind him. Peter stared through the glass door, unabashedly while Neal preformed a little jig on the sidewalk to the amusement of a passing group of kids. He glanced over his shoulder as they passed and waved his fingers in Peter's direction. And the blush was back.
--
The third time he approached the building Neal was nowhere to be seen. Hiding his disappointment he pushed open the door but stopped when laughter caught his attention from around side of the building. He dropped the door and backtracked until he could peer around the corner. And there he was, leaning against the wall, headgear at his feet, and the short end of a cigarette dangling from his fingertips. "Don't you know those things will kill you?"
Neal dropped the butt quickly and squashed it under his shoe but there wasn't shame on his face when he met Peter's eyes. "The air we breathe is giving us cancer." He grinned. "It's a dirty habit, I'm quitting."
"Hey, I'm not judging." Peter leaned on the wall beside him. "I've got a cigar collection at home."
Neal sized him up for a long minute before offering his hand. "Neal."
Peter gave him an easy smile and took it, his grip warm and electric. "Peter."
Neal pushed off the wall and moved in front of him. "It's nice to meet you, Peter." He cocked his head. "I have to get back to work, but if you want..." He looked down at his feet and was suddenly shy, eyes peeking back up under his lashes. "Coffee later? Maybe?"
"Can I meet you here?" The words rushed out and Neal's eyes gleamed as he nodded. "When?"
"I'm done at 4."
"I'll be here." He wasn't sure they could get much closer without touching. And damn if he didn't have to ball his fists to stop himself.
Neal backed away and grabbed his hat off the ground and dropped it on his head at a ridiculous angle. "See you then." He disappeared around the corner.
Peter pulled out his phone and called his office. Against the protests of his overworked secretary, he cleared the rest of his afternoon.
--
If Peter thought he looked good in the frumpy green dress, he wasn't sure what to make of him in blue jeans and rumpled tshirt. He smiled at the sight and held out his hand, Neal took it without hesitation and they made their way in comfortable silence to the tiny cafe with the incredible coffee. A table in the back and an order for coffee and sandwiches later and Peter couldn't seem to wipe the grin off his face.
"So." Neal fiddled with the silverware on the tabletop.
"So." Peter brought a hand up and covered the other mans, silencing the clinking of metal.
"Tell me about you." Neal's eyes shot up and his gaze was hot. "I mean, if you want." He smiled, the same confident smile that had drawn Peter in in the first place, and visibly relaxed. "Sorry, I just kind of want to know everything."
Peter chuckled. "It's not that interesting of a story." Then he laughed outright. "Or maybe it is, considering."
Neal raised his eyebrows. "Tell me." He remembered his manners. "Please?"
Peter settled back in his chair and cleared his throat. "I don't want to sound stalkerish."
"You picked a tax team off the street because you thought their mascot was cute." Neal grinned. "I'm pretty sure we're past stalkerish."
"Oh, that's not even the best part." Peter rolled his eyes at himself. "My name is Peter Burke." He waited to see if the name would sink in. It did, slowly, and he watched Neal's eyes widen marginally. "From Abotts Burke and Clien."
Neal stared, speechless for a long minute before he broke out in the most dazzling smile Peter'd seen yet. "You work for ABC? The accounting firm?" He snorted back a laugh. "You don't just work there. Jesus, your name is on the letterhead!" He was near giggles and failing to contain them.
"Yep." Peter waved his hands. "And yet..."
"So what, why..." He got control of his laughter, barely.
"Well, they have amazing curb appeal."
Neal snorted again.
"And, ok, I wasn't going to come back. But then Claire, she's amazing." Peter laced his fingers behind his head. "So you could say I'm headhunting. She doesn't know it yet, but she's in the middle of the biggest interview of her career so far."
"Huh." Neal put his chin on his hand. "And here I assumed you kept coming back for me."
"I did." Peter found his gaze and held it.
Blue eyes lit up. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." It was his turn to feel bashful. "I didn't mean for this to be so intense. But there's just.." He trailed off and shrugged helplessly.
"Something." Neal wasn't laughing anymore. "I know. I saw you walking down the sidewalk and it felt like fate." A wry smile. "I don't even know you."
"But-" Peter licked his lip. "I think I'm falling really hard here."
Their food arrived then and the moment was interrupted. They talked, easy and light, about everything from the best steakhouse -
"Smith & Wollensky"
"In Manhattan."
"On Third."
"Yes!"
- to their childhood aspirations.
"I wanted to play baseball. Or work for the FBI." Peter laughed.
"I wanted to be everything, go everywhere, touch everything." Neal's grin was cheeky. "I had big dreams."
Three hours passed in a blur and by the time they stepped out of the doors the air was cold. But they were warm on each other and they both knew - that the something that drew them together was quickly turning into everything.
END
~
That's it, it's all I've got. Thanks for reading!