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
( ... )
"I did say that." He groaned and made his way into the kitchen for another beer. Or maybe a third. He wasn't sure. He knew he didn't want to go to bed anytime soon. "Yes, I did say that and I know we can do this. It helps to hear you say it."
And Neal was in his head. All the time.
"I don't want to think that my organization could be dirty." He groaned and shook his head. "We have to. I don't want to work there without you. Kramer. I don't trust him. He was supposed to be... We go back a long time and he pulls this shit."
Yes, Peter was beyond mad. "I'm just frustrated." In every sense of the word.
"Soon enough I'll be the one frustrating you again and all will be right in the world."
In both their worlds really. Neal wasn't exactly thrilled to think Kramer was dirty either. Not because he had the greatest faith in the system, because he did not, but because of what it had done to Peter's morale. He could even get over what Kramer had ended up causing in his own life, because that's exactly what he expected of men like that. The fact that he'd done this to Peter was unacceptable. Neal wanted to get this right, in some twisted way, to avenge Peter's honor.
Even when it was unintentional he had sort of a romanticism to everything Neal did.
He took a long drink of his beer, relishing in it. Yes, his morale was shaken. A part of him almost wished he'd stayed with Sara and not gone back to the Agency.
"Promises promises." He sighed and his voice broke a little. "Don't promise something you can't deliver."
Neal wasn't saying it to say it. He had every intention of making good on their deal. If he hadn't, he never would have picked up his phone that afternoon or called back that evening. There was no reason for Peter to really believe him, but he wanted the other man to. If there was any one in the world he wanted to impress, deep down, it was Peter.
The problem was Peter. He had a few beers by the time that Neal had called. He felt the beers running through him and he wasn't exactly thinking straight.
Add in the fact that he was terrible at flirting. Very terrible. And the fact that Neal wasn't picking up on it wasn't making Peter feel very confidant.
"I know you don't, Neal. I'm sorry. I was fl... I was teasing."
Elizabeth knew of Peter's utter failures at flirting and she'd confirmed to Neal all his suspicions of that fact. Any time he'd seen the older man try, it was painful but he'd always thought that was because of El. Apparently no, it was just the way the man was. But this was Neal and Peter and seeing as his attempts didn't look like attempts when Neal was expecting them, they certainly didn't look like that kind of signal when he wasn't looking for it at all.
"Right." There was a relieved exhale. "Your sense of humor, oh how I missed it."
He's a little flat, but in that way where he'll obviously get over it. Neal's just good at sulking.
In one conversation, Peter managed to make Neal feel more wanted than anyone ever had. It was silly and Neal would have been mortified if his friend knew, but he liked knowing Peter cared. Neal liked to hear how his friend missed him. Hearing the things he wanted to hear because Peter actually wanted to say them, it made his night.
Pouring some more champagne, Neal looked between the flute and the now half full bottle and decided to take both to his nightstand before he flopped out on the bed. Falling asleep with thoughts of being back in New York was going to give him a better night's sleep than he'd had in ages.
"It's okay, I like you dry." Neal winced. That just sounded weird. Now who was tripping up at trying to play it cool.
"Oh god, there is just not enough beer in this house for this conversation." He laughed into the phone and went to get another. In the background, Neal could probably hear the clinking of multiple bottles. Yes, multiple. He tried to be quiet, not wanting to wake up El in the process.
"It's better than being wet," he teased. Even he couldn't stifle the groan. "Okay, that was really bad." He smiled and opened another beer, flopping down on his living room sofa. He couldn't play cool if someone poured ice into his trousers.
"No kidding. I'm glad I got the bigger bottle of champagne."
Yeah he'll just down his glass and pour another. At this rate, that whole bottle was sure to be finished long before midnight. He missed this. He missed Peter. Right then, he didn't even care that Peter was probably drinking beer he should talk him out of, that thought only made him miss the other man more.
"...Okay that was absolutely terrible. File that one in your 'never again' folder." Nonetheless, he was laughing too.
"I'm glad I got the twelve pack." Hearing Neal's warm laughter was very comforting. He didn't know how much longer he was going to make it. The alcohol was flowing through him now.
"It was terrible!" He smiled and took a long drink of his beer. "I usually have good ones. But that one, not it." His head tilted to the side and he bit his lip. "I don't know how much longer I'm going to make it, Neal. I love talking to you, but it's not the same as you being here. And I've been drinking a lot. I might fall asleep on you."
There was something comforting about the thought of his friend falling asleep on the phone with him. Three more glasses and it would be the same story for Neal honestly. While he'd never admit to wanting to keep hearing Peter's voice, he was reluctant to hang up. But his friend was right. It wasn't the same as the nights they'd talked in his apartment until the wee hours of the morning. It was good, better than nothing, but he wanted to be back in New York post haste.
Apparently his impatience had just been delayed at setting in, despite his earlier assurances to Peter that things would be over before they knew it.
"At least you admit it. I should remember how agreeable you are when you drink more often. I could get out of so much more trouble that way." Or into trouble, but like hell he was going to be that blatant to Peter. The older man might have been drunk but he wouldn't miss that.
He smiled. Hearing Neal's voice was making him sleepy. Mostly because it felt good to hear it. He loved the night that they sat around reminiscing how they had met. All their chases and their stories. It had been fun. He hated that distance. He hated it with El and he hated it now.
"You just want to get me drunk." He chuckled. "You don't mean out of trouble. You mean into it." He smiled, thinking just what kind of trouble Neal could or couldn't get into. He might have had a fantasy or two that he never would share.
"We'll see what happens when you get back," he murmured into the phone.
The innocence wasn't even an act, it was just Neal being silly. Nothing put Neal at ease like knowing he wouldn't have to be on the run. Peter, the man he trusted with his life, had saved it again. Another glass of champagne poured and Neal holds up the glass on the other end of the line.
"A toast. To the best partner I've ever had. In or out of crime."
After a moment.
"If you didn't fall asleep you'd best be lifting your glass."
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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And Neal was in his head. All the time.
"I don't want to think that my organization could be dirty." He groaned and shook his head. "We have to. I don't want to work there without you. Kramer. I don't trust him. He was supposed to be... We go back a long time and he pulls this shit."
Yes, Peter was beyond mad. "I'm just frustrated." In every sense of the word.
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In both their worlds really. Neal wasn't exactly thrilled to think Kramer was dirty either. Not because he had the greatest faith in the system, because he did not, but because of what it had done to Peter's morale. He could even get over what Kramer had ended up causing in his own life, because that's exactly what he expected of men like that. The fact that he'd done this to Peter was unacceptable. Neal wanted to get this right, in some twisted way, to avenge Peter's honor.
Even when it was unintentional he had sort of a romanticism to everything Neal did.
"I'll be there by Sunday. Promise you."
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He took a long drink of his beer, relishing in it. Yes, his morale was shaken. A part of him almost wished he'd stayed with Sara and not gone back to the Agency.
"Promises promises." He sighed and his voice broke a little. "Don't promise something you can't deliver."
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"I usually don't."
Neal wasn't saying it to say it. He had every intention of making good on their deal. If he hadn't, he never would have picked up his phone that afternoon or called back that evening. There was no reason for Peter to really believe him, but he wanted the other man to. If there was any one in the world he wanted to impress, deep down, it was Peter.
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Add in the fact that he was terrible at flirting. Very terrible. And the fact that Neal wasn't picking up on it wasn't making Peter feel very confidant.
"I know you don't, Neal. I'm sorry. I was fl... I was teasing."
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"Right." There was a relieved exhale. "Your sense of humor, oh how I missed it."
He's a little flat, but in that way where he'll obviously get over it. Neal's just good at sulking.
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It's probably a good thing that Neal can't see him either. He cursed himself for trying to do it over the phone.
"I tease because I care."
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Pouring some more champagne, Neal looked between the flute and the now half full bottle and decided to take both to his nightstand before he flopped out on the bed. Falling asleep with thoughts of being back in New York was going to give him a better night's sleep than he'd had in ages.
"It's okay, I like you dry." Neal winced. That just sounded weird. Now who was tripping up at trying to play it cool.
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"It's better than being wet," he teased. Even he couldn't stifle the groan. "Okay, that was really bad." He smiled and opened another beer, flopping down on his living room sofa. He couldn't play cool if someone poured ice into his trousers.
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Yeah he'll just down his glass and pour another. At this rate, that whole bottle was sure to be finished long before midnight. He missed this. He missed Peter. Right then, he didn't even care that Peter was probably drinking beer he should talk him out of, that thought only made him miss the other man more.
"...Okay that was absolutely terrible. File that one in your 'never again' folder." Nonetheless, he was laughing too.
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"It was terrible!" He smiled and took a long drink of his beer. "I usually have good ones. But that one, not it." His head tilted to the side and he bit his lip. "I don't know how much longer I'm going to make it, Neal. I love talking to you, but it's not the same as you being here. And I've been drinking a lot. I might fall asleep on you."
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Apparently his impatience had just been delayed at setting in, despite his earlier assurances to Peter that things would be over before they knew it.
"At least you admit it. I should remember how agreeable you are when you drink more often. I could get out of so much more trouble that way." Or into trouble, but like hell he was going to be that blatant to Peter. The older man might have been drunk but he wouldn't miss that.
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"You just want to get me drunk." He chuckled. "You don't mean out of trouble. You mean into it." He smiled, thinking just what kind of trouble Neal could or couldn't get into. He might have had a fantasy or two that he never would share.
"We'll see what happens when you get back," he murmured into the phone.
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The innocence wasn't even an act, it was just Neal being silly. Nothing put Neal at ease like knowing he wouldn't have to be on the run. Peter, the man he trusted with his life, had saved it again. Another glass of champagne poured and Neal holds up the glass on the other end of the line.
"A toast. To the best partner I've ever had. In or out of crime."
After a moment.
"If you didn't fall asleep you'd best be lifting your glass."
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He smirked and raised his bottle. "It's not a glass, it's a beer bottle, but it's good enough." He smiled and laughed lightly into the phone.
"To Neal Caffrey. The best partner I've ever had. Neal, the man I wish I could know closer." In so many ways. He smiled.
He finished his bottle and yawned into the phone. His voice started to sound sleepy.. "I'll see you soon."
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