After he and Peter had parted ways, and some time after he'd made a mess of his hotel room, Neal had his talk with Mozzie. His friend was frustrated, to say the least, but also had really seen it coming. The suit had found Neal like it was his job, which it apparently no longer was. Neal only got by because of the fondness Moz seemed to have for Elizabeth. Hearing what the Burkes had gone through and how it must have been killing El was about the only way Neal kept from having a vase thrown at his chest when he said he was going back on the con.
So he'd kept his job with the Smithsonian for another few weeks, and a few after that. Life as Michael Stanton wasn't glorious but with the Hope Diamond secure, so was his job. No one went digging into his background and the forgeries stuck. It wasn't an honest living entirely, but it was as close as he could get. He'd promised Peter no heist and that's what Peter got. Beyond that, he was going to have to learn to understand, if he didn't already
( ... )
Peter sighed into the phone. It was a strange feeling he had inside. When he heard Neal's voice, he was elated to finally get a chance to talk to his old friend. Yes, friend. He thought of Neal as much more than a CI. He was a partner and a friend, someone that he trusted with his life. It was good to finally hear his voice again
( ... )
When the younger man realized that it was indeed Peter on the other end, he heaved a sigh of relief audibly. His conscious mind was still waiting for the bad part of the phone call to come through the first few sentences. Once Peter got it all out there, during which Neal said nothing after his initial hello, he was quiet for just long enough to sort out his responses from questions.
With a voice that was barely cautiously optimistic, at best, he then replied. "I almost expected that you were going to call and tell me that I needed find another new job." As in, the Feds were coming for 'Michael Stanton.'
"I want copies in writing from you before I set foot within a mile of that building Peter." A pause. "And the anklet?"
He's not holding his breath but it is kind of the big elephant of a question in the room.
"I have copies in writing right here at the house with me. You and I both sign them, we all get a copy for our records." He smiled. "No, you don't need to find another job. You have this one, if you want it." He chuckled into the phone. It felt good to be able to talk to Neal like this. "It had been so long, Neal. It's been so hard."
Peter sighed and bit his lip. He didn't want to talk about the anklet. Mostly because he knew that Neal wouldn't like the answer that he was going to get.
"You have to wear the anklet. At least during the probationary period. Hughes is going to talk to the board about doing another commutation hearing. After what happened, we'll have to requisition for a new hearing, hopefully with a new judging panel." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Neal. The..." He sighed. "The only way you would be able to take the anklet off is a nightly thing, if... If you stayed in the house with El and I."
"Don't get me wrong Peter, I miss you but... I think we'd kill each other."
The answer wasn't the one he wanted to hear and he had to make some kind of joke to cover his disappointment. What he wanted was to have his suits, suite, and view back with the freedom to go for more than a two mile walk if he didn't want to start making a circle. It wasn't like being in prison, surely, but it wasn't real freedom either.
Not that he didn't deserve it. Both for the laws he'd broken and, according to Mozzie, for being the best unreliable con artist he knew. That's what he was going to get. And, sure enough, it sounded like he was getting exactly the bad with the good this deal was going to wash out with. A moment's hesitation internally, how could he not seeing as he'd be giving up some things he might not get back for years (if ever).
Still, he did mean it when he said he missed Peter. He missed everything about the life he'd developed in New York thanks to Peter
( ... )
"I think El might be a good mediator." He chuckled into the phone, but it didn't quite sound that happy. "Look, Neal..." He reached up and ran his hand through his hair. Rising to his feet, he began to pace back and forth.
"You can go back to normal. June still has the apartment for you. You will still have the anklet with a two mile radius." He knew that it was a terrible idea. It was a bad situation and one that Neal hadn't been happy about, he could tell. Still, he would be out of jail. That had to count for something, right? He hoped so. He was putting his career on the line for Neal. A career he almost didn't even go back to.
"But we had a 93% success rate. That had to count for something, didn't it?" His voice was strained through the phone. “Neal, it’s the best that I could do. I get to see you again. We get to go back to work. I don’t know what else to do here.”
Neal had, in not nearly enough words, made that joke about cases to allude to his willingness to come back. It was something Peter had often complained about, the way he made everything a little more complicated and didn't like being direct. Oh he had the capacity for it, but if it could be avoided? Well then you could count on Neal to find a a way to avoid it.
In this case though, as Peter continued in that voice Neal had come to know as his stressed voice, he made an exception. Neal had a good idea of what it had taken Peter to try this, and the other man hadn't done it for himself.
"Look, I'll come Peter. If Hughes didn't try to pull a fast one with the paperwork then..."
They both knew that while Hughes was a pain in the ass, he wasn't a cheat or a liar.
Peter nodded his head. He had done a lot for Neal. He’d put it all on the line for him. There was a reason why he did it for Neal. He’d done it time and time again.
“I’ve looked at the paperwork. So has Diana. We don’t see anything in it. Nothing like a loophole. Nothing they can’t supercede. It looks good, Neal. Real good. It’s the same deal you had before. And a new hearing, when we get a date. They may make you sweat it a little.”
“You’ll have the same view, the same June. Everything will be the same.” He swallowed. “Any time you’re with me, your radius is ignored. The only exception is when we’re at my house. I take full responsibility for you. If you want to remove the anklet, you have to be at our house to do it.” His mind could so many places with that, but he chose to keep those comments to himself.
He was trying hard to give Neal a little give to his deal. Just so Neal would know he was trying hard for him.
Neal would never admit to Peter what the other man's efforts did for his self-esteem and his general feelings of value. After all he'd, in his mind, sacrificed to go the straight and narrow road for the FBI, the way things had played out stung. Some part of him blamed Peter unconsciously, but only because it was the first time Peter hadn't been able to make something go away. Seeing the lengths he was trying to go to now? Well it did a lot
( ... )
“Sure. I told him that you needed a few days to clear the safe house you’d been staying in, things like that. As long as you don’t do anything to pop on the rader, you’re good. Free and clear.” He smiled into the phone. He was so happy that this had gone through. It was a far sweeter deal than he’d expected. Maybe more people at the FBI liked Neal than he thought.
Peter laughed into the phone. “You’ll wear it and make it look good. Better than they ever could look in a suit like that. And if it’s a Devore, forget it...”
Peter bit his lip, pausing what he was going to say next. He was sure that Neal could hear it through the phone. He couldn’t hide the hesitation. They were getting everything they wanted, even if the road there was a little longer than expected. “What are you doing tonight? I... I thought I might call you later. Something in private." He sighed. "I wish you were here."
After bailing on Moz with the diamond stint, there was little Neal could fathom wanting to do to put himself on the radar at this point. Peter wanted this, wanted him back at the FBI but Neal wanted it too. Jeopardizing everything his friend had done would have been more than his psyche could handle after learning what had happened when he initially fled. Swapping the phone into his other hand, Neal glanced around to make sure his change in demeanor hadn't been picked up as he'd made his way back into his current 'job
( ... )
And yes, his mind went to a place it shouldn’t have with Neal. He blinked and was very glad Neal couldn’t see his face at that moment. He and El were two people who could easily read his face. If Neal saw what he looked like right now, then he might know what he was thinking. And Peter wasn’t ready to voice ‘that’ yet.
“Too bad they don’t fit me, I’d take them.” He snorted into the phone. It was the kind of suits he wore, not Neal. “Diana sure liked them. Though, I think she wanted to buy one to wear for Christy.” He laughed into the phone. “I will admit that you always looked very put together and El admired your style. That’s all you’ll get from me.” Oh yes, Neal always looked good to him.
“Feeble!” He growled into the phone. “I am not... Fine, I’ll talk to you later tonight. I...” He paused. “I can’t wait to see you, Neal.”
There was pure, genuine laughter as Peter started to protest the feeble thing. It even got quiet, reserved 'Michael' a few stares as he headed towards his office. Neal had never typed a resignation letter before. The idea itself seemed so foreign, so... mundane. Their conversation was wrapping up then, and Neal was okay with that. They'd talk again later and soon, soon he'd actually get to see Peter. That was something he was greatly looking forward to.
"I'll call you at 9:00PM tonight." Neal said, making sure they both had an agreed upon time they could talk at length with no interruptions.
A pause.
"...Me too Peter."
A click.
And Neal was off the phone.
---
Later that night, at precisely 9:00 on the dot, Neal had the phone propped between his shoulder and ear as he was pulling on the cork of a champagne bottle. This time around, he actually had something to celebrate.
Peter had gone home from work and had a long talk with El. After a few beers and some loving kisses, an agreement had been made. One he wasn’t ready to broach with Neal yet, but El was okay with it. And that was what mattered. He never wanted to keep secrets with El. Not even white lies. And this was too important to not cover.
At 9:00, Peter was in his office with the door shut. He’d been going over some case files. El was up in bed, having gone to bed early since there was a breakfast meeting the next morning. Beside him, a bottle of beer was sweating. It wasn’t the only thing sweating in that office.
Riiiing.
Peter reached over and answered the phone. “Burke detective agency,” he said playfully into the phone. “We always get our man.”
"What's the bounty you're willing to pay for information that could lead to the surrender of one of the most wanted men of the decade?"
The smile was plain in Neal's voice. There was a sort of 'pop' noise in the background as Neal finally managed to get the cork out of the bottle. After pouring himself some bubbly in a flute, of course he had champagne flutes handy in whatever safe house he'd been living in, Neal settled in for whatever talk Peter wanted to have.
Giving his notice had gone over well. The Smithsonian was genuinely sad to see him go, but they understood family obligations and hard times in life. But, if he did change his mind, there would always be a job in DC for Michael Stanton.
"Oh wow, really?" He leaned back in his chair and sighed into the phone. Gently, he put down his pen and he was glad for the break. This deal he'd been brokering had been hard. It had left him exhausted. He'd be happy when Neal was back in New York and it was all over.
He thought it over a moment. "Well, I don't know. I'm willing to be flexible. I want this guy badly," he teased. "He's such an illusive criminal. One of the best."
He shook his head. He almost didn't want to ask about the quitting now. This was fun. He'd missed the banter.
So he'd kept his job with the Smithsonian for another few weeks, and a few after that. Life as Michael Stanton wasn't glorious but with the Hope Diamond secure, so was his job. No one went digging into his background and the forgeries stuck. It wasn't an honest living entirely, but it was as close as he could get. He'd promised Peter no heist and that's what Peter got. Beyond that, he was going to have to learn to understand, if he didn't already ( ... )
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With a voice that was barely cautiously optimistic, at best, he then replied. "I almost expected that you were going to call and tell me that I needed find another new job." As in, the Feds were coming for 'Michael Stanton.'
"I want copies in writing from you before I set foot within a mile of that building Peter." A pause. "And the anklet?"
He's not holding his breath but it is kind of the big elephant of a question in the room.
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Peter sighed and bit his lip. He didn't want to talk about the anklet. Mostly because he knew that Neal wouldn't like the answer that he was going to get.
"You have to wear the anklet. At least during the probationary period. Hughes is going to talk to the board about doing another commutation hearing. After what happened, we'll have to requisition for a new hearing, hopefully with a new judging panel." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Neal. The..." He sighed. "The only way you would be able to take the anklet off is a nightly thing, if... If you stayed in the house with El and I."
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The answer wasn't the one he wanted to hear and he had to make some kind of joke to cover his disappointment. What he wanted was to have his suits, suite, and view back with the freedom to go for more than a two mile walk if he didn't want to start making a circle. It wasn't like being in prison, surely, but it wasn't real freedom either.
Not that he didn't deserve it. Both for the laws he'd broken and, according to Mozzie, for being the best unreliable con artist he knew. That's what he was going to get. And, sure enough, it sounded like he was getting exactly the bad with the good this deal was going to wash out with. A moment's hesitation internally, how could he not seeing as he'd be giving up some things he might not get back for years (if ever).
Still, he did mean it when he said he missed Peter. He missed everything about the life he'd developed in New York thanks to Peter ( ... )
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"You can go back to normal. June still has the apartment for you. You will still have the anklet with a two mile radius." He knew that it was a terrible idea. It was a bad situation and one that Neal hadn't been happy about, he could tell. Still, he would be out of jail. That had to count for something, right? He hoped so. He was putting his career on the line for Neal. A career he almost didn't even go back to.
"But we had a 93% success rate. That had to count for something, didn't it?" His voice was strained through the phone. “Neal, it’s the best that I could do. I get to see you again. We get to go back to work. I don’t know what else to do here.”
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In this case though, as Peter continued in that voice Neal had come to know as his stressed voice, he made an exception. Neal had a good idea of what it had taken Peter to try this, and the other man hadn't done it for himself.
"Look, I'll come Peter. If Hughes didn't try to pull a fast one with the paperwork then..."
They both knew that while Hughes was a pain in the ass, he wasn't a cheat or a liar.
"Then I'll stay in New York."
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“I’ve looked at the paperwork. So has Diana. We don’t see anything in it. Nothing like a loophole. Nothing they can’t supercede. It looks good, Neal. Real good. It’s the same deal you had before. And a new hearing, when we get a date. They may make you sweat it a little.”
“You’ll have the same view, the same June. Everything will be the same.” He swallowed. “Any time you’re with me, your radius is ignored. The only exception is when we’re at my house. I take full responsibility for you. If you want to remove the anklet, you have to be at our house to do it.” His mind could so many places with that, but he chose to keep those comments to himself.
He was trying hard to give Neal a little give to his deal. Just so Neal would know he was trying hard for him.
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Peter laughed into the phone. “You’ll wear it and make it look good. Better than they ever could look in a suit like that. And if it’s a Devore, forget it...”
Peter bit his lip, pausing what he was going to say next. He was sure that Neal could hear it through the phone. He couldn’t hide the hesitation. They were getting everything they wanted, even if the road there was a little longer than expected. “What are you doing tonight? I... I thought I might call you later. Something in private." He sighed. "I wish you were here."
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“Too bad they don’t fit me, I’d take them.” He snorted into the phone. It was the kind of suits he wore, not Neal. “Diana sure liked them. Though, I think she wanted to buy one to wear for Christy.” He laughed into the phone. “I will admit that you always looked very put together and El admired your style. That’s all you’ll get from me.” Oh yes, Neal always looked good to him.
“Feeble!” He growled into the phone. “I am not... Fine, I’ll talk to you later tonight. I...” He paused. “I can’t wait to see you, Neal.”
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"I'll call you at 9:00PM tonight." Neal said, making sure they both had an agreed upon time they could talk at length with no interruptions.
A pause.
"...Me too Peter."
A click.
And Neal was off the phone.
---
Later that night, at precisely 9:00 on the dot, Neal had the phone propped between his shoulder and ear as he was pulling on the cork of a champagne bottle. This time around, he actually had something to celebrate.
Riiiing.
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At 9:00, Peter was in his office with the door shut. He’d been going over some case files. El was up in bed, having gone to bed early since there was a breakfast meeting the next morning. Beside him, a bottle of beer was sweating. It wasn’t the only thing sweating in that office.
Riiiing.
Peter reached over and answered the phone. “Burke detective agency,” he said playfully into the phone. “We always get our man.”
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The smile was plain in Neal's voice. There was a sort of 'pop' noise in the background as Neal finally managed to get the cork out of the bottle. After pouring himself some bubbly in a flute, of course he had champagne flutes handy in whatever safe house he'd been living in, Neal settled in for whatever talk Peter wanted to have.
Giving his notice had gone over well. The Smithsonian was genuinely sad to see him go, but they understood family obligations and hard times in life. But, if he did change his mind, there would always be a job in DC for Michael Stanton.
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He thought it over a moment. "Well, I don't know. I'm willing to be flexible. I want this guy badly," he teased. "He's such an illusive criminal. One of the best."
He shook his head. He almost didn't want to ask about the quitting now. This was fun. He'd missed the banter.
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