A Thief's Work is Never Done
Oct. 26th, 2012 12:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hurinhouseTitle: A Thief's Work is Never Done
Author: hurinhouse
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Characters: Neal, Peter
Summary: It's difficult not to get caught up in the con, no matter your true profession.
Disclaimer: Entirely fiction
806 words
The cuffs clink against a smooth frame as he squeezes through wood and metal, weaving between statues and paintings and cases filled with jewels. Could he have ever imagined that the FBI would one day have a museum of sorts, dedicated to his skills?
He stops at a Gaugin. 2003, he thinks. He'd painted it in nine hours, under a rooftop overhang, waiting for Vincent Adler's helicopter to bring with it approval or a one way ticket down the side of a twenty story building. Today the oil-based women glare at him for interfering with their scantily-clad afternoon.
Peter will be searching for him now. The last place he'll think to find him is in the catacombs of the FBI's basement.
The Raphael. That had been his favorite and here it sits collecting dust. It would look fantastic on the south facing wall in his apartment. But, he'll never live in that apartment again and Saint George won't see the light of day. Nor will the stunning 6 carat brilliant he'd created. Soon all of this will be shipped to a warehouse to be cataloged as the work of Nick Halden, to be introduced as evidence in the trial of an even higher society thief who didn't screen his associates well enough to stay out of prison.
"Souvenir?"
Neal smiles. He stamps down the instinct to flee, borne from dozens of chases throughout more cities than he can remember. After all these years of running from it, Peter's voice still feels like home. He turns and looks down to the cuffs held in his palm, shrugging. "I want to keep them."
"Who said Neal Caffrey isn't sentimental?"
Sentimental. Maybe. But it isn't everyday that six years of one's life culminates in one mere moment of Miranda rights.
"It'll be nice not to have to keep up with you anymore." Peter's words carry an edge of amusement.
"When exactly were you keeping up?"
The agent returns his smile and takes in the expanse of beauty throughout the room. "I wish you could keep them. But, you'll make new someday. Originals."
The words are kind but Neal's eyes lose focus in the sea of his own art. "I betrayed my best friend, I- "
"Best friend?" Peter tilts his head.
"Right. But he's taught me a lot all these years. He's been loyal to a fault and he thinks I stabbed him in the back."
"You kept him out of jail," Peter points out. "But, yeah, I doubt immunity is going to make up for Mozzie losing a billion dollar treasure he never had to begin with. Kate, though… "
Neal shakes his head, swallows back the tightness in his throat. Kate will never take him back, immunity or not. He led her into a con's life and now she's on her own.
Peter watches Neal's hands and Neal realizes he's twirling the cuffs around. He stops. "I wanted to cuff Adler myself."
"And you deserved to do so. But we may need Nick Halden again."
Of course, he's right. After such a long sting, it'd be stupid to throw away a good alias for vanity.
"Neal, I'm sorry you had to go so deep for so long. We can get you some time off now.”
"Peter I've had nothing but vacation working for Adler. Forging paintings in Rome, fraud in San Francisco, securities theft in Cannes- "
"And you're ready to be normal again… whatever that may be? Neal, if we could have gotten to that U-boat another way... Christ, what were you, twenty five?"
Neal nods. He was Peter's probie for only a year and a half before they sent him to become Adler's heir apparent, using Mozzie's unwitting tutelage to get there. He'd spent most of his career posing as a thief, the FBI chasing him to keep up appearances. He didn't think he knew how to do anything else.
"I'm guessing your stretch on the dark side is going to yield great input at the office."
"Oh? Have something good?"
"We just found suitcases full of smuggled Spanish children's books at the airport. Snow White and Her Seven Little Men."
His brow raises,"Kinky."
"Here." Peter hands over a familiar leather case, something Neal hasn’t held in six years. His picture is out of date. His hair hasn't been that imperfect since before he'd been immersed into Adler's elite world.
The badge shines back at him as if it was brand new. He runs a finger over his name. Not Nick Halden or Steve Tabernacle or George Donnelly. Just Neal. Special Agent Neal Caffrey.
Peter drapes an arm around Neal's shoulder, leads him toward the elevators. "Come on, Partner. El has meat loaf waiting for us."
"So I can like meat loaf again?"
"Hell, Neal… you can even like beer again."
"Peter. Let's not go that far."
~fin~
(I wanted to turn this idea into a long story in real time, rather than this short after-the-fact, but I just don't have time for long stories)
Author: hurinhouse
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Characters: Neal, Peter
Summary: It's difficult not to get caught up in the con, no matter your true profession.
Disclaimer: Entirely fiction
806 words
The cuffs clink against a smooth frame as he squeezes through wood and metal, weaving between statues and paintings and cases filled with jewels. Could he have ever imagined that the FBI would one day have a museum of sorts, dedicated to his skills?
He stops at a Gaugin. 2003, he thinks. He'd painted it in nine hours, under a rooftop overhang, waiting for Vincent Adler's helicopter to bring with it approval or a one way ticket down the side of a twenty story building. Today the oil-based women glare at him for interfering with their scantily-clad afternoon.
Peter will be searching for him now. The last place he'll think to find him is in the catacombs of the FBI's basement.
The Raphael. That had been his favorite and here it sits collecting dust. It would look fantastic on the south facing wall in his apartment. But, he'll never live in that apartment again and Saint George won't see the light of day. Nor will the stunning 6 carat brilliant he'd created. Soon all of this will be shipped to a warehouse to be cataloged as the work of Nick Halden, to be introduced as evidence in the trial of an even higher society thief who didn't screen his associates well enough to stay out of prison.
"Souvenir?"
Neal smiles. He stamps down the instinct to flee, borne from dozens of chases throughout more cities than he can remember. After all these years of running from it, Peter's voice still feels like home. He turns and looks down to the cuffs held in his palm, shrugging. "I want to keep them."
"Who said Neal Caffrey isn't sentimental?"
Sentimental. Maybe. But it isn't everyday that six years of one's life culminates in one mere moment of Miranda rights.
"It'll be nice not to have to keep up with you anymore." Peter's words carry an edge of amusement.
"When exactly were you keeping up?"
The agent returns his smile and takes in the expanse of beauty throughout the room. "I wish you could keep them. But, you'll make new someday. Originals."
The words are kind but Neal's eyes lose focus in the sea of his own art. "I betrayed my best friend, I- "
"Best friend?" Peter tilts his head.
"Right. But he's taught me a lot all these years. He's been loyal to a fault and he thinks I stabbed him in the back."
"You kept him out of jail," Peter points out. "But, yeah, I doubt immunity is going to make up for Mozzie losing a billion dollar treasure he never had to begin with. Kate, though… "
Neal shakes his head, swallows back the tightness in his throat. Kate will never take him back, immunity or not. He led her into a con's life and now she's on her own.
Peter watches Neal's hands and Neal realizes he's twirling the cuffs around. He stops. "I wanted to cuff Adler myself."
"And you deserved to do so. But we may need Nick Halden again."
Of course, he's right. After such a long sting, it'd be stupid to throw away a good alias for vanity.
"Neal, I'm sorry you had to go so deep for so long. We can get you some time off now.”
"Peter I've had nothing but vacation working for Adler. Forging paintings in Rome, fraud in San Francisco, securities theft in Cannes- "
"And you're ready to be normal again… whatever that may be? Neal, if we could have gotten to that U-boat another way... Christ, what were you, twenty five?"
Neal nods. He was Peter's probie for only a year and a half before they sent him to become Adler's heir apparent, using Mozzie's unwitting tutelage to get there. He'd spent most of his career posing as a thief, the FBI chasing him to keep up appearances. He didn't think he knew how to do anything else.
"I'm guessing your stretch on the dark side is going to yield great input at the office."
"Oh? Have something good?"
"We just found suitcases full of smuggled Spanish children's books at the airport. Snow White and Her Seven Little Men."
His brow raises,"Kinky."
"Here." Peter hands over a familiar leather case, something Neal hasn’t held in six years. His picture is out of date. His hair hasn't been that imperfect since before he'd been immersed into Adler's elite world.
The badge shines back at him as if it was brand new. He runs a finger over his name. Not Nick Halden or Steve Tabernacle or George Donnelly. Just Neal. Special Agent Neal Caffrey.
Peter drapes an arm around Neal's shoulder, leads him toward the elevators. "Come on, Partner. El has meat loaf waiting for us."
"So I can like meat loaf again?"
"Hell, Neal… you can even like beer again."
"Peter. Let's not go that far."
~fin~
(I wanted to turn this idea into a long story in real time, rather than this short after-the-fact, but I just don't have time for long stories)
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Date: 2012-10-26 08:32 am (UTC)And I love the way the story unfolds.
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Date: 2012-10-26 10:45 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-10-26 10:47 am (UTC)thank you!
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Date: 2012-10-26 10:02 am (UTC)Thanks for sharing :)
Nate
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Date: 2012-10-27 01:18 am (UTC)thank you so much for thegreat feedback!
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Date: 2012-12-22 10:35 am (UTC)