Gentle hands rubbed Neal's shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "It's different, Neal. Kramer was involved. You ran because you had to. And we'll make them see that. I promise you, I will help you take care of this." He sighed and clutched the younger man to him, never wanting to let go. "Running because you have to isn't the same as running because you want to."
The man was so young and yet had seen so much. Peter didn't envy Neal at all. He'd seen and done some things in his life too, but nothing compared to Neal. Neal's living made Peter look like he was only fifteen. His eyes closed and he breathed in, smelling the scent of Neal's shampoo mixed with a hint of cologne. He wanted to breathe it and memorize it, as if making a memory for himself.
"No matter what, Neal. I... I believe in you." He kept his arms wrapped tightly around Neal. Gently, he rocked the younger man against him. "You're a good person, Neal. You..." He sighed. "I trust you with my life. You know that, right? I would take a bullet for you. And I know you'd do the same for me. I Lo... Uh. I love having you around." He smiled and reached up, gently running his fingers through Neal's hair.
That new and additional level of affection didn't go unnoticed but Neal wasn't about to complain either. Mozzie was funny about sharing glasses, much less touching in any capacity. A tactile and social creature by nature, ending up as isolated as he'd become was breaking him slowly. Tears wouldn't be shed but Neal was damned close. As Peter held him, he could actually feel the burning of water in his eyes.
"Shame the whole lot of the FBI doesn't think like you. You'd probably have a lot more help and a lot more consultants if you were running the place."
There was that familiar humor again. Anything to avoid feeling real, actual feelings. Neal had told himself to stop feeling much of anything a long time ago. It was a forced lightness, they both knew it, but it was like Neal compulsively couldn't stop himself from doing it. He'd already screwed up the heist royally with his feelings, he couldn't let it get any worse.
Then Peter went on about trust and believing with him and his resolve began to fade fast. Damnit Caffrey, keep it together. He was caught up in his own strangled emotions enough that he didn't quite catch the stumble through phrases regarding love.
"I know you would. I know Peter." There was relief to his voice to hear it aloud and to know Peter knew it was a two way street, that whole willingness to dive in to the line of fire. "I'm going to do my best to prove to you that you don't have to regret feeling that way."
Peter wouldn't cry. He was good at consoling. He'd done it for El many times. He'd even done it for Neal once or twice. His mind went back to memories like Kate and Sara. No, the only people who had ever seen Peter cry was El and Diana. He could count on one hand the amount of times that he had cried. The only reason Diana had seen him cry at all was when El had been taken. He was the comforter. And right now, it felt good to console Neal.
"Never know, Neal. Maybe they do and they just don't say anything under Hughes. Diana is one that felt that way." He smiled down at Neal, fingers running through his hair and gently massaging his scalp. He chuckled, enjoying Neal's humor. While Neal might be one who didn't share his feelings, Peter didn't mind with people he trusted. He wasn't a touchy, feely type of guy, but he didn't want to hide from Neal.
"Neal, I've known you a long time." He smiled. "I will never have any regrets about you." And that was the first time Peter really lied to Neal. He lied because yes, he did have one regret. He'd had conversations with El once or twice regarding Neal. He had a good idea what she thought about Neal, but nothing had been set in stone.
Regaining the composure he'd lost, Neal blinked back tears. He didn't want Peter to see him as anything less than calm, collected, and in control. Sitting up a little straighter, he summoned back that charm and confidence. Hearing positive words about Diana certainly helped in that regard.
"Make this work Peter. I'm tired of being just a wanted man."
He wanted to go back to being classy, intelligent, and needed. There was a time where all of his talents were needed by the right people and Neal could be himself without, mostly, repercussion from the law. Yes he was here to steal the diamond, but only because he'd lost that legitimate direction the moment he fled Manhattan.
Now that he was upright and the plan was in place, Neal knew it was time to part ways. Time and, well, if they didn't soon Neal was going to be too much of a head case to talk to Mozzie that night. Standing, abruptly and awkwardly, he looked between the phones in their hands.
"Anything else I should know before I disappear again?"
There was a good chance he wasn't going to show for dinner. Not that he was going to tell Peter that. He just knew he might lose the last of his resolve to go into hiding somewhere far away and safe.
Peter stood up, taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly. He would. He would do his damnest to make it work. Because anything less just wasn't acceptable. Neal was much more than a wanted man. And he was more than some investigator. Sara had been great. He owed her a lot. And yet, he needed the FBI.
The crap he spewed about change had been true, but hollow to him. Anywhere less than the FBI made him feel unhappy. Neal helped him to see that. He shouldn't just cut and run. He needed to fight for his job. Neal hadn't been there to help him before. Now, he saw it and he wasn't going to go without a fight.
"Don't let Mozzie change your mind." He knew that Neal would leave and then go tell him he wasn't doing the con. Or, he really hoped that Neal wouldn't do it. "I'm going to trust you, Neal." He reached out and took Neal's hand in his. "I'm not going to say anything to anyone about the Hope Diamond. Okay?" He raised an eyebrow at his former partner. He wouldn't say anything and he hoped he didn't read about it in tomorrow's paper.
Peter made sure that the phones were programmed correctly, testing them before they parted ways. He looked up at Neal and there was something in his eyes that he just knew this was it. Neal wouldn't be coming for dinner. El would be hurt, but it had to be done.
He looked down at Neal's hand in his. He almost didn't want to let go. "When I go home, I'm going to call Diana. Tomorrow, I'm going go try to talk to Hughes. If you need me, at all, you just call me." He sighed and stepped up, hugging Neal tight. "This isn't the end, Neal."
By the time they had pulled apart from that final hug, the veneer smile Neal used to bluff confidence was right back in place. He needed time to clear his head before going back to meet with Mozzie. His emotions were twisted up and had, in the span of just a couple hours, left him so confused that his initial resolve to steal the diamond and make a break for it was waning.
"Can you do one thing for me Peter?" Neal was already pocketing his programmed burn phone in a hidden compartment inside his jacket. "Can you thank Diana and... tell Elizabeth I'm sorry."
What he was sorry for wasn't exactly explained out but the Burkes ought to have known. For everything. For not showing for dinner right on down to El's abduction and the subsequent invasion into their lives on his account. Even now, when he was considering going back on his con, he couldn't quite do the right thing. He couldn't stay and he couldn't do what it took to prove to Peter he could be a good man.
The best he could do was resist the urge to go down as the only man who'd ever, allegedly, stolen the Hope Diamond.
It wasn't the end but it could just as soon be if their plan didn't work out. The end of Peter and Neal anyways.
"I better go." Before it gets any harder. "Call me when you know something."
Neal hated to walk out on Peter like that but both men knew they had no choice. No more hugs, no more touching even, because Neal thought it might kill him, and as suddenly as they'd crossed each other's paths in the Met, they were alone and apart again once more. Neal disappeared within steps of getting back onto the street. He knew he had to be a ghost, even from Peter's searching, if this had any chance of working.
--
Later, back in his room the Smithsonian had rented, then he fell apart. The phone he'd been regularly carrying buzzed on the dresser but he ignored it. Mozzie could wait. After three splashes of cold water weren't enough, Neal outright lost his temper. The champagne bottle he'd bought the night before to celebrate the con was given a look of pure hatred before he dramatically wiped all his con materials to the floor in one moment of utterly annihilated composure.
The man was so young and yet had seen so much. Peter didn't envy Neal at all. He'd seen and done some things in his life too, but nothing compared to Neal. Neal's living made Peter look like he was only fifteen. His eyes closed and he breathed in, smelling the scent of Neal's shampoo mixed with a hint of cologne. He wanted to breathe it and memorize it, as if making a memory for himself.
"No matter what, Neal. I... I believe in you." He kept his arms wrapped tightly around Neal. Gently, he rocked the younger man against him. "You're a good person, Neal. You..." He sighed. "I trust you with my life. You know that, right? I would take a bullet for you. And I know you'd do the same for me. I Lo... Uh. I love having you around." He smiled and reached up, gently running his fingers through Neal's hair.
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"Shame the whole lot of the FBI doesn't think like you. You'd probably have a lot more help and a lot more consultants if you were running the place."
There was that familiar humor again. Anything to avoid feeling real, actual feelings. Neal had told himself to stop feeling much of anything a long time ago. It was a forced lightness, they both knew it, but it was like Neal compulsively couldn't stop himself from doing it. He'd already screwed up the heist royally with his feelings, he couldn't let it get any worse.
Then Peter went on about trust and believing with him and his resolve began to fade fast. Damnit Caffrey, keep it together. He was caught up in his own strangled emotions enough that he didn't quite catch the stumble through phrases regarding love.
"I know you would. I know Peter." There was relief to his voice to hear it aloud and to know Peter knew it was a two way street, that whole willingness to dive in to the line of fire. "I'm going to do my best to prove to you that you don't have to regret feeling that way."
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"Never know, Neal. Maybe they do and they just don't say anything under Hughes. Diana is one that felt that way." He smiled down at Neal, fingers running through his hair and gently massaging his scalp. He chuckled, enjoying Neal's humor. While Neal might be one who didn't share his feelings, Peter didn't mind with people he trusted. He wasn't a touchy, feely type of guy, but he didn't want to hide from Neal.
"Neal, I've known you a long time." He smiled. "I will never have any regrets about you." And that was the first time Peter really lied to Neal. He lied because yes, he did have one regret. He'd had conversations with El once or twice regarding Neal. He had a good idea what she thought about Neal, but nothing had been set in stone.
"Shhh, Neal. It's okay."
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"Make this work Peter. I'm tired of being just a wanted man."
He wanted to go back to being classy, intelligent, and needed. There was a time where all of his talents were needed by the right people and Neal could be himself without, mostly, repercussion from the law. Yes he was here to steal the diamond, but only because he'd lost that legitimate direction the moment he fled Manhattan.
Now that he was upright and the plan was in place, Neal knew it was time to part ways. Time and, well, if they didn't soon Neal was going to be too much of a head case to talk to Mozzie that night. Standing, abruptly and awkwardly, he looked between the phones in their hands.
"Anything else I should know before I disappear again?"
There was a good chance he wasn't going to show for dinner. Not that he was going to tell Peter that. He just knew he might lose the last of his resolve to go into hiding somewhere far away and safe.
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The crap he spewed about change had been true, but hollow to him. Anywhere less than the FBI made him feel unhappy. Neal helped him to see that. He shouldn't just cut and run. He needed to fight for his job. Neal hadn't been there to help him before. Now, he saw it and he wasn't going to go without a fight.
"Don't let Mozzie change your mind." He knew that Neal would leave and then go tell him he wasn't doing the con. Or, he really hoped that Neal wouldn't do it. "I'm going to trust you, Neal." He reached out and took Neal's hand in his. "I'm not going to say anything to anyone about the Hope Diamond. Okay?" He raised an eyebrow at his former partner. He wouldn't say anything and he hoped he didn't read about it in tomorrow's paper.
Peter made sure that the phones were programmed correctly, testing them before they parted ways. He looked up at Neal and there was something in his eyes that he just knew this was it. Neal wouldn't be coming for dinner. El would be hurt, but it had to be done.
He looked down at Neal's hand in his. He almost didn't want to let go. "When I go home, I'm going to call Diana. Tomorrow, I'm going go try to talk to Hughes. If you need me, at all, you just call me." He sighed and stepped up, hugging Neal tight. "This isn't the end, Neal."
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"Can you do one thing for me Peter?" Neal was already pocketing his programmed burn phone in a hidden compartment inside his jacket. "Can you thank Diana and... tell Elizabeth I'm sorry."
What he was sorry for wasn't exactly explained out but the Burkes ought to have known. For everything. For not showing for dinner right on down to El's abduction and the subsequent invasion into their lives on his account. Even now, when he was considering going back on his con, he couldn't quite do the right thing. He couldn't stay and he couldn't do what it took to prove to Peter he could be a good man.
The best he could do was resist the urge to go down as the only man who'd ever, allegedly, stolen the Hope Diamond.
It wasn't the end but it could just as soon be if their plan didn't work out. The end of Peter and Neal anyways.
"I better go." Before it gets any harder. "Call me when you know something."
Neal hated to walk out on Peter like that but both men knew they had no choice. No more hugs, no more touching even, because Neal thought it might kill him, and as suddenly as they'd crossed each other's paths in the Met, they were alone and apart again once more. Neal disappeared within steps of getting back onto the street. He knew he had to be a ghost, even from Peter's searching, if this had any chance of working.
--
Later, back in his room the Smithsonian had rented, then he fell apart. The phone he'd been regularly carrying buzzed on the dresser but he ignored it. Mozzie could wait. After three splashes of cold water weren't enough, Neal outright lost his temper. The champagne bottle he'd bought the night before to celebrate the con was given a look of pure hatred before he dramatically wiped all his con materials to the floor in one moment of utterly annihilated composure.
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