White Collar Fic, The Landing, PG
Title: The Landing
Author: xonextheoryx
Rating: PG
Genre and/or Pairing: Neal/Peter, allusion to past Neal/Kate
Spoilers: MAJOR EFFING SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN 1.06 "FREE FALL"!!!
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~2279
Summary: Post-"Free Fall". What does Neal do after the pieces finally fall into place?
Author's Note: This is the first piece of fanfiction I've written in almost a year, so I'm really rusty and this isn't as good as it could be, but I just really needed to get it out of my system so I could go back to my NaNo novel that I'm putting the finishing touches on. I may or may not expand on this later.
Neal doesn't even bother with knocking, just tries the doorknob and when he finds it locked, pulls out the copy of Peter's key that he had made one day when the other man wasn't aware. He flings open the door, not even wincing as it hits the wall with a bang that knocks a picture down, glass shattering as it hits the floor. He moves swiftly through the living room, the dining room, and throws open the door to the kitchen. Nothing. By the time he makes it back to the living room, Elizabeth is on the stairs, robe clutched tight around her body.
“Neal?” she says, moving down to the floor and towards the con man.
“Where is he, Elizabeth? Where the fuck is he?” Neal is furious, arms out, hair mussed, tie askew.
“Who, Neal? Who?” She asks, walking towards him, stopping when he freezes and locks his gaze over her shoulder, eyes going icy.
“Me.” Peter's voice comes from the doorway.
Neal moves easily around Elizabeth and grabs Peter by the neck. He shoves the other man against the wall forcefully. Peter knew that Neal worked out, but he didn't expect him to be this strong.
“Where is she, Peter? What did you do to her?”
“Neal, what are you talking about?” Elizabeth moves over towards them, worried for both her husband and the man she's come to call 'friend'.
“Kate, Elizabeth. He's the man who has Kate.”
“What? No.” Elizabeth gasps, turning to look at Peter's face. She covers her mouth when she doesn't see him deny it, “Peter...” she breathes, unable to believe it.
“It was for his own good, El.” Peter isn't struggling against Neal's hold, but he can feel himself getting more and more lightheaded.
“You thought taking away the woman I love, then making me lo-,” Neal shakes his head, “trust you, and then betraying me was for my own good?” Neal is livid, Peter's never seen him this angry and with all the surveillance he's done on Neal, he's seen him in every mood imaginable.
“Let me go...and I'll...explain.” Breathing isn't hard, not really, it's the fact that whoever taught Neal to fight obviously taught him to cut off blood flow to the brain, not oxygen. A smart move. Peter's eyes are starting to flutter shut when he feels the grip on his neck relax.
Neal steps back from Peter, “Explain, then.” he says, tone deadly quiet and serious. His blue eyes lock on Peter's brown ones, glare cold and dead, not warm and twinkling like Peter's become accustomed to seeing.
“About a year before you were set to be released, I got curious. I started pulling files here and there, trying to piece together a history for Kate. Who she was, why you cared so much for her that you'd go to prison to cover her mistake.” He sees Neal's eyebrows raise imperceptibly at that, “Oh, I know all about how those bonds were Kate's and not yours. You're not the only one with moles running around the city. But that's a different story. What I did find out was that Kate had been digging around, looking for your hideouts. She was going to every storage place in the city, every friend you had, asking them if they knew where your stuff might be.” Peter pauses, looking at Neal carefully.
“About four months after I started following her, she found something. A small cache-- I highly doubt that two million is the total net worth of everything you ever allegedly stole-- that she turned around and sold. She was using you, Neal.” Peter says, leaning in, “and I'm the only one who caught it.”
“You're lying!” Neal almost screams, managing to keep his voice to a loud yell as he moves to hit Peter. He's too slow, though, and is soon on his back on the floor, Peter sitting on his hips.
“I'm not. Check the surveillance you've got on your place over on Broadway.” Peter says, looking at Neal with purpose.
“You're lying.” Neal says softly, eyes, searching, not wanting to believe what the other man is saying, but his gut telling him Peter's right. Neal had seen the signs himself, even before he went away to prison.
Kate had repeatedly asked him where he kept his stuff. What, exactly had he stolen and how much was it worth. She was always about the money, but Neal had loved her too much to tell her 'no'. Had bought her expensive things and given her all the love he had to give, but it was never enough. She always wanted more. More of him, more money, more clothes. Neal loved a good set of clothes, but Kate hardly ever wore an outfit more than once. And while Neal wore classy clothing, Kate wore things straight off the runway. Neal is broken out of his thoughts at the feeling of Peter rising off of him. He focuses his eyes to see an extended hand.
“Go, Neal. See for yourself. I won't say that I told you so, but I will be here when you get back.” Peter moves towards Neal, meaning to drop a kiss on his forehead for some reason he can't quite process right now, but the other man backs away, almost scared. Neal darts out the door and into the night. Peter turns to Elizabeth and sighs.
“I'm gonna go put sheets on the guest bed.” She says and walks away. Somehow, Peter doesn't think it's for when-- and if-- Neal returns. Wearily, he shuts the door behind him, ignoring the fallen photo for now.
Neal wasn't ever supposed to find out. Kate was supposed to get the message after he followed her to San Diego-- the starting point in her search after she didn't find anything aside from that small set of paintings in New York. The surveillance photos Mozzie had given Neal weren't from when he said. Mozzie was in on this, too, but Peter would die before he told Neal that much. It'd kill the other man. But Kate didn't stop after San Diego. She kept looking, kept searching. Peter knew he had to do something when she actually did find one of Neal's hiding spots. He knew Neal didn't do it for the money, he did it for the beauty of what he took, the thrill of taking it. Yes, the money was a bonus to Neal, but it wasn't what drove him. Compared to what he had seen, Neal was the most docile of criminals. Peter rolls his neck, feeling the tension there and heads upstairs. He isn't surprised when the door to the room he shares with Elizabeth is closed. He heads instead to the guest bedroom, stripping down to his boxers and climbing under the sheets, prepared to sleep the night alone.
xXx
Peter is woken when he feels the bed dip next to him. He knows it isn't Elizabeth, she probably won't talk to him again until either Neal comes back or Hell freezes over, whichever comes first. So Peter cracks an eye, wanting to see who is guest is. He doesn't recognize the man, dark hair, green eyes that catch in the faint streetlight coming in through the window and shine like emeralds in the night.
“Who are you?” Peter asks, pushing himself up on the bed.
“Nobody important. I'm just here to let you know that Neal Caffrey is going out of town for a few days to check on some items of his. You are not to follow him. The tracker will be of no use, as it will constantly relay a signal from his current residence. I'm also here to let you know that he may never fully forgive you, but he knows now that you-- and I-- were right.” The other man stands from where he had sat on the bed. He's almost to the door when he turns around.
“Oh, and one more thing. If you ever do something like this to him again, I will personally be the one to rip your heart out of your chest to see how you like the feeling.” and with that, just as suddenly as he appeared, the stranger is gone, leaving Peter confused and alone once more.
Peter flops back down onto the bed, unsure of what to think, but knowing that he won't get back to sleep easily.
xXx
It's almost a week before Neal resurfaces in New York. Peter is just getting out of his car after a long day at work, ready to see Elizabeth, even if she is still giving him the cold shoulder. He stops short when he sees a masculine shadow cross his living room. His heart skips, thinking of Neal. Peter almost runs inside, opening the door quickly, but mindful of the wall and the newly re-framed portrait. He drops his bag in the doorway when he sees blue eyes and dark hair peer around the corner.
“Neal.” He breathes. He moves towards the other man, wanting to pull him into a hug.
“Peter, not now. We've got some talking to do first.” Neal says, stepping back behind the wall and into the kitchen. Peter frowns, but follows him.
“Where's Elizabeth?” He asks, noticing that Neal's the one cooking.
“With a friend. She figured we'd be better discussing what we have to discuss in private.” Neal says, stirring the pot of spaghetti sauce that Peter swears smells homemade.
“Neal, I-”
“I know, Peter. You didn't want to hurt me. But you did. You were too stubborn to think that maybe if presented with the facts instead of going over my head and making me think she was in actual danger I would have agreed with you in the first place.” Neal turns down the burner, pointedly not looking back at Peter.
“Neal, listen. I was hoping you'd forget about her. I know I was stupid to think that, but that was my idea at the time. That I'd make her disappear and you'd never want to go after her.”
“That's where you were wrong. But, at least now, she's done with me. I took care of that.” Neal's voice is flat, no emotion in it at all and to Peter it just screams wrong.
“Neal...What did you do?” Peter asks, moving forward and putting a hand on Neal's shoulder, turning the younger man so he can see those blue eyes.
“I didn't do anything. I simply went on a trip. Checked out a few vacation spots. She followed me to each of them, turning up empty in each because there wasn't anything there to begin with. And then she realized I knew. She showed up the last night I was gone, telling me she was glad to finally catch up with me. How nice it was to be back together. How we were going to get right back into the swing of things.” Neal says, a sadness in his eyes.
“Neal...” Peter can't find the words the describe how he's feeling. Anger at Kate for hurting Neal. At himself for doing the same thing. Regret for how he went about it. Compassion for the sad, boy-like figure in front of him. Passion for that same man. So he leans forward and gently presses his lips to Neal's.
“Peter...don't.” Neal says, pulling back after a second of indulgence, “I can't take any more of your games.”
“It's not a game, Neal.” Peter says even as the other man turns back to the stove. He puts a hand on each of Neal's shoulders, tilting forward enough to rest his cheek on the side of Neal's head, inhaling the pure scent of the man, “It was never a game.”
“Peter...” Neal says, almost like he's praying, “Don't start this if you can't finish it.” Neal turns around, hands moving to cup each side of Peter's face, “If you think that in two months, two years, you'd regret this, don't start it. I'm not going to settle for a quick romp in the sheets. That's not who I am, not how my heart works. You of all people should know that.”
“I know. And that's why I'm telling you there's a permanent opening for a lanky, blue-eyed conman around here. You keep me on my toes, Neal. You match me in every way Elizabeth can't and even in some of the ones she can. I love her, but I love you, too, Neal.” Peter leans in for another kiss, Neal's hands still on his face.
This time, Neal leans into it, pouring himself into the kiss. Making sure Peter knows how he feels, that Neal loves him back. Peter pulls back when he can't go any longer without air.
“I'll have a chat with El, explain it all to her.”
“I kinda already did.” Neal says, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.
“What did she say?” Peter says, only mildly surprised.
“That I had better not hog the covers.” Neal smiles a bit as he says it, “Her exact words, I swear.” he says at Peter's look of disbelief.
“I always knew she was a practical woman.” Peter says, leaning back into Neal's space, breathing in expensive cologne and Neal once more, reveling in the scent. He presses another kiss to Neal's lips and for a moment, everything is right.
FIN
Author: xonextheoryx
Rating: PG
Genre and/or Pairing: Neal/Peter, allusion to past Neal/Kate
Spoilers: MAJOR EFFING SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN 1.06 "FREE FALL"!!!
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~2279
Summary: Post-"Free Fall". What does Neal do after the pieces finally fall into place?
Author's Note: This is the first piece of fanfiction I've written in almost a year, so I'm really rusty and this isn't as good as it could be, but I just really needed to get it out of my system so I could go back to my NaNo novel that I'm putting the finishing touches on. I may or may not expand on this later.
Neal doesn't even bother with knocking, just tries the doorknob and when he finds it locked, pulls out the copy of Peter's key that he had made one day when the other man wasn't aware. He flings open the door, not even wincing as it hits the wall with a bang that knocks a picture down, glass shattering as it hits the floor. He moves swiftly through the living room, the dining room, and throws open the door to the kitchen. Nothing. By the time he makes it back to the living room, Elizabeth is on the stairs, robe clutched tight around her body.
“Neal?” she says, moving down to the floor and towards the con man.
“Where is he, Elizabeth? Where the fuck is he?” Neal is furious, arms out, hair mussed, tie askew.
“Who, Neal? Who?” She asks, walking towards him, stopping when he freezes and locks his gaze over her shoulder, eyes going icy.
“Me.” Peter's voice comes from the doorway.
Neal moves easily around Elizabeth and grabs Peter by the neck. He shoves the other man against the wall forcefully. Peter knew that Neal worked out, but he didn't expect him to be this strong.
“Where is she, Peter? What did you do to her?”
“Neal, what are you talking about?” Elizabeth moves over towards them, worried for both her husband and the man she's come to call 'friend'.
“Kate, Elizabeth. He's the man who has Kate.”
“What? No.” Elizabeth gasps, turning to look at Peter's face. She covers her mouth when she doesn't see him deny it, “Peter...” she breathes, unable to believe it.
“It was for his own good, El.” Peter isn't struggling against Neal's hold, but he can feel himself getting more and more lightheaded.
“You thought taking away the woman I love, then making me lo-,” Neal shakes his head, “trust you, and then betraying me was for my own good?” Neal is livid, Peter's never seen him this angry and with all the surveillance he's done on Neal, he's seen him in every mood imaginable.
“Let me go...and I'll...explain.” Breathing isn't hard, not really, it's the fact that whoever taught Neal to fight obviously taught him to cut off blood flow to the brain, not oxygen. A smart move. Peter's eyes are starting to flutter shut when he feels the grip on his neck relax.
Neal steps back from Peter, “Explain, then.” he says, tone deadly quiet and serious. His blue eyes lock on Peter's brown ones, glare cold and dead, not warm and twinkling like Peter's become accustomed to seeing.
“About a year before you were set to be released, I got curious. I started pulling files here and there, trying to piece together a history for Kate. Who she was, why you cared so much for her that you'd go to prison to cover her mistake.” He sees Neal's eyebrows raise imperceptibly at that, “Oh, I know all about how those bonds were Kate's and not yours. You're not the only one with moles running around the city. But that's a different story. What I did find out was that Kate had been digging around, looking for your hideouts. She was going to every storage place in the city, every friend you had, asking them if they knew where your stuff might be.” Peter pauses, looking at Neal carefully.
“About four months after I started following her, she found something. A small cache-- I highly doubt that two million is the total net worth of everything you ever allegedly stole-- that she turned around and sold. She was using you, Neal.” Peter says, leaning in, “and I'm the only one who caught it.”
“You're lying!” Neal almost screams, managing to keep his voice to a loud yell as he moves to hit Peter. He's too slow, though, and is soon on his back on the floor, Peter sitting on his hips.
“I'm not. Check the surveillance you've got on your place over on Broadway.” Peter says, looking at Neal with purpose.
“You're lying.” Neal says softly, eyes, searching, not wanting to believe what the other man is saying, but his gut telling him Peter's right. Neal had seen the signs himself, even before he went away to prison.
Kate had repeatedly asked him where he kept his stuff. What, exactly had he stolen and how much was it worth. She was always about the money, but Neal had loved her too much to tell her 'no'. Had bought her expensive things and given her all the love he had to give, but it was never enough. She always wanted more. More of him, more money, more clothes. Neal loved a good set of clothes, but Kate hardly ever wore an outfit more than once. And while Neal wore classy clothing, Kate wore things straight off the runway. Neal is broken out of his thoughts at the feeling of Peter rising off of him. He focuses his eyes to see an extended hand.
“Go, Neal. See for yourself. I won't say that I told you so, but I will be here when you get back.” Peter moves towards Neal, meaning to drop a kiss on his forehead for some reason he can't quite process right now, but the other man backs away, almost scared. Neal darts out the door and into the night. Peter turns to Elizabeth and sighs.
“I'm gonna go put sheets on the guest bed.” She says and walks away. Somehow, Peter doesn't think it's for when-- and if-- Neal returns. Wearily, he shuts the door behind him, ignoring the fallen photo for now.
Neal wasn't ever supposed to find out. Kate was supposed to get the message after he followed her to San Diego-- the starting point in her search after she didn't find anything aside from that small set of paintings in New York. The surveillance photos Mozzie had given Neal weren't from when he said. Mozzie was in on this, too, but Peter would die before he told Neal that much. It'd kill the other man. But Kate didn't stop after San Diego. She kept looking, kept searching. Peter knew he had to do something when she actually did find one of Neal's hiding spots. He knew Neal didn't do it for the money, he did it for the beauty of what he took, the thrill of taking it. Yes, the money was a bonus to Neal, but it wasn't what drove him. Compared to what he had seen, Neal was the most docile of criminals. Peter rolls his neck, feeling the tension there and heads upstairs. He isn't surprised when the door to the room he shares with Elizabeth is closed. He heads instead to the guest bedroom, stripping down to his boxers and climbing under the sheets, prepared to sleep the night alone.
xXx
Peter is woken when he feels the bed dip next to him. He knows it isn't Elizabeth, she probably won't talk to him again until either Neal comes back or Hell freezes over, whichever comes first. So Peter cracks an eye, wanting to see who is guest is. He doesn't recognize the man, dark hair, green eyes that catch in the faint streetlight coming in through the window and shine like emeralds in the night.
“Who are you?” Peter asks, pushing himself up on the bed.
“Nobody important. I'm just here to let you know that Neal Caffrey is going out of town for a few days to check on some items of his. You are not to follow him. The tracker will be of no use, as it will constantly relay a signal from his current residence. I'm also here to let you know that he may never fully forgive you, but he knows now that you-- and I-- were right.” The other man stands from where he had sat on the bed. He's almost to the door when he turns around.
“Oh, and one more thing. If you ever do something like this to him again, I will personally be the one to rip your heart out of your chest to see how you like the feeling.” and with that, just as suddenly as he appeared, the stranger is gone, leaving Peter confused and alone once more.
Peter flops back down onto the bed, unsure of what to think, but knowing that he won't get back to sleep easily.
xXx
It's almost a week before Neal resurfaces in New York. Peter is just getting out of his car after a long day at work, ready to see Elizabeth, even if she is still giving him the cold shoulder. He stops short when he sees a masculine shadow cross his living room. His heart skips, thinking of Neal. Peter almost runs inside, opening the door quickly, but mindful of the wall and the newly re-framed portrait. He drops his bag in the doorway when he sees blue eyes and dark hair peer around the corner.
“Neal.” He breathes. He moves towards the other man, wanting to pull him into a hug.
“Peter, not now. We've got some talking to do first.” Neal says, stepping back behind the wall and into the kitchen. Peter frowns, but follows him.
“Where's Elizabeth?” He asks, noticing that Neal's the one cooking.
“With a friend. She figured we'd be better discussing what we have to discuss in private.” Neal says, stirring the pot of spaghetti sauce that Peter swears smells homemade.
“Neal, I-”
“I know, Peter. You didn't want to hurt me. But you did. You were too stubborn to think that maybe if presented with the facts instead of going over my head and making me think she was in actual danger I would have agreed with you in the first place.” Neal turns down the burner, pointedly not looking back at Peter.
“Neal, listen. I was hoping you'd forget about her. I know I was stupid to think that, but that was my idea at the time. That I'd make her disappear and you'd never want to go after her.”
“That's where you were wrong. But, at least now, she's done with me. I took care of that.” Neal's voice is flat, no emotion in it at all and to Peter it just screams wrong.
“Neal...What did you do?” Peter asks, moving forward and putting a hand on Neal's shoulder, turning the younger man so he can see those blue eyes.
“I didn't do anything. I simply went on a trip. Checked out a few vacation spots. She followed me to each of them, turning up empty in each because there wasn't anything there to begin with. And then she realized I knew. She showed up the last night I was gone, telling me she was glad to finally catch up with me. How nice it was to be back together. How we were going to get right back into the swing of things.” Neal says, a sadness in his eyes.
“Neal...” Peter can't find the words the describe how he's feeling. Anger at Kate for hurting Neal. At himself for doing the same thing. Regret for how he went about it. Compassion for the sad, boy-like figure in front of him. Passion for that same man. So he leans forward and gently presses his lips to Neal's.
“Peter...don't.” Neal says, pulling back after a second of indulgence, “I can't take any more of your games.”
“It's not a game, Neal.” Peter says even as the other man turns back to the stove. He puts a hand on each of Neal's shoulders, tilting forward enough to rest his cheek on the side of Neal's head, inhaling the pure scent of the man, “It was never a game.”
“Peter...” Neal says, almost like he's praying, “Don't start this if you can't finish it.” Neal turns around, hands moving to cup each side of Peter's face, “If you think that in two months, two years, you'd regret this, don't start it. I'm not going to settle for a quick romp in the sheets. That's not who I am, not how my heart works. You of all people should know that.”
“I know. And that's why I'm telling you there's a permanent opening for a lanky, blue-eyed conman around here. You keep me on my toes, Neal. You match me in every way Elizabeth can't and even in some of the ones she can. I love her, but I love you, too, Neal.” Peter leans in for another kiss, Neal's hands still on his face.
This time, Neal leans into it, pouring himself into the kiss. Making sure Peter knows how he feels, that Neal loves him back. Peter pulls back when he can't go any longer without air.
“I'll have a chat with El, explain it all to her.”
“I kinda already did.” Neal says, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.
“What did she say?” Peter says, only mildly surprised.
“That I had better not hog the covers.” Neal smiles a bit as he says it, “Her exact words, I swear.” he says at Peter's look of disbelief.
“I always knew she was a practical woman.” Peter says, leaning back into Neal's space, breathing in expensive cologne and Neal once more, reveling in the scent. He presses another kiss to Neal's lips and for a moment, everything is right.
FIN