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
( ... )
Not that Neal cared in the least, but Peter didn't tend to talk like that unless he was frustrated or angry. After another swallow so he could refill his glass, Neal set the flute down for a minute. Shifting, he made sure he had the phone comfortable before continuing. There was unmasked concern in his tone.
"Is everything okay? You're usually all about the patience game, a few days should be nothing right?" Wasn't it Peter that was always telling him to take his time and think things through and blah blah patience blah?
"From the man who uses it on occasion as well. And trust me, I could say a lot worse. This time, I'm not even mad at you." He chuckled into the phone, but there was a hint of tightness to his voice. "I am a man who can cuss at on occasion."
He sighed into the phone. "Yes, well, I'm impatient this time." Reaching out, he pounded a fist on his desk. "I just..." He bit his lip. "It's nothing. I just... I'll feel better when you're here, Neal."
"The you not being mad at me part is always nice." Neal wasn't smiling though. Hearing that strain in Peter's voice hurt. "Peter..."
And then he could hear Peter lose his temper on the other end before claiming nothing was wrong. Well, a man of many secrets, he couldn't blame his friend for not being entirely expressive. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, his voice was softer when he spoke again.
"I'll be there before the weekend is out. Monday morning we can stroll on into Hughes office and watch Kramer have an aneurysm."
"I hate secrets, Neal." He reached out, rubbing his hand. "Ow." He winced, biting his bottom lip as he did it. "I'm not mad at you." It strained him to not say anything, but he was too scared. What if anything he felt wasn't reciprocated. And it wasn't something he hadn't planned to discuss over the phone. He wanted to do it in person.
"I don't give a shit what Kramer wants. I don't care if I ever see him again. I am so sick of finding out that there are Agents that are dirty in my organization. They're hypocrites, Neal. They sit there and piously point fingers at you when they're just as criminal." It really pissed him off. "They have no right to judge someone I care about."
"Then we'll flush him out Peter. We'll prove him to be what he is and get him kicked out. And then I'll prove that I'm exactly what you've said to them all."
Neal wanted to be a good man. He wanted to be a man Peter would continue to want in his life. At this point Neal has lost everyone that mattered in his life. Losing Peter wasn't an option. Damnit, Moz was right. The suit was in his head. All the time.
"We won't let him get the upper hand again. Isn't that what you said when we talked last? We can do this."
"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.
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Not that Neal cared in the least, but Peter didn't tend to talk like that unless he was frustrated or angry. After another swallow so he could refill his glass, Neal set the flute down for a minute. Shifting, he made sure he had the phone comfortable before continuing. There was unmasked concern in his tone.
"Is everything okay? You're usually all about the patience game, a few days should be nothing right?" Wasn't it Peter that was always telling him to take his time and think things through and blah blah patience blah?
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He sighed into the phone. "Yes, well, I'm impatient this time." Reaching out, he pounded a fist on his desk. "I just..." He bit his lip. "It's nothing. I just... I'll feel better when you're here, Neal."
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And then he could hear Peter lose his temper on the other end before claiming nothing was wrong. Well, a man of many secrets, he couldn't blame his friend for not being entirely expressive. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, his voice was softer when he spoke again.
"I'll be there before the weekend is out. Monday morning we can stroll on into Hughes office and watch Kramer have an aneurysm."
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"I don't give a shit what Kramer wants. I don't care if I ever see him again. I am so sick of finding out that there are Agents that are dirty in my organization. They're hypocrites, Neal. They sit there and piously point fingers at you when they're just as criminal." It really pissed him off. "They have no right to judge someone I care about."
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Neal wanted to be a good man. He wanted to be a man Peter would continue to want in his life. At this point Neal has lost everyone that mattered in his life. Losing Peter wasn't an option. Damnit, Moz was right. The suit was in his head. All the time.
"We won't let him get the upper hand again. Isn't that what you said when we talked last? We can do this."
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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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