elrhiarhodan

Title: Rapprochement
Author:  elrhiarhodan
Rating:  PG
Characters/Pairing: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey
Fandom:  White Collar
Spoilers: All of Season 3 to S3.10
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~1600
Summary: Peter needs to get the scarab amulet back. He asks Neal for help.

Part of the Comment Fic Meme, a fill for elainasaunt (her prompt is at the end of the story).


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All was not quite right in his world. It should be, but it wasn’t.

Elizabeth was home, safe, well and secure. She was dealing with what happened in the best possible way - a combination of therapy, family and normality. The nightmares weren’t quite over, but they weren’t as frequent either.

The treasure was on its way back to Russia - escorted by Kramer and a detachment of Russian diplomats, officials and high ranking military. There was going to be a great ceremony in St. Petersburg in a few months, the celebrate the repatriation of Russian national treasures. Peter wasn’t going to attend.

Best of all, Matthew Keller was in a five by eight foot cell in the Federal Supermax in Florence, Colorado. For the rest of his natural life. And then some.

Still, things weren’t perfect.

His relationship with Neal was rocky. A lot of that had to do with him - his anger, the rage he still felt. Neal’s actions and inactions led to that terrible day, but his sacrifice redeemed him.

Mostly.

But that wasn’t the problem his was facing right now. The case file with the details of the scarab amulet that Keller stole was still sitting on his desk. It was still opened. The AUSA handling the case had sweated Keller on dozens of crimes and Keller had gleefully admitted to the original theft. But he was adamant that he had left the amulet behind when the FBI busted in.

Peter’s gut told him that Keller was telling the truth. He knew that the sexy Ms. Laroque didn’t have it either.

That left Neal. His gut didn’t quite churn at the thought that Neal had taken it. It was so damn typical that he would. “See-Want-Take” was his motto, and the thing was just sitting there.

Peter sighed. Typical, typical Neal. He had to know he couldn’t keep it - he had to know someone would figure out he had it. He took a sip of his coffee and contemplated the situation. He knew now where he had gone wrong with Neal - with the treasure. Accusing instead of asking. Anger instead of understanding. The stick instead of the carrot.

No, he would approach Neal differently. But he didn’t have the luxury of time. He looked down at the bullpen. Neal was working quietly by himself, mostly ignored by the staff. It would take time for the scars to fade - for him to become part of the team again, but he didn’t doubt that would happen sooner than later.

Now, though - he had a little healing to do himself.

****

Neal hated the tension in the office. He wasn’t quite ostracized, but there was a definite coolness in the air. The staff was taking its lead from Peter and his senior agents. Like Peter, Clinton and Diana were keeping their distance from him when nothing required his expertise. It hurt, of course - but he understood.

He had a way of sitting at his desk and maintaining an unobtrusive eye on Peter. He could keep his head down and still be aware of what’s going on. It surprised him to no end when Peter bounced down the stairs, a smile on his face and didn’t stop at Diana’s desk, or at Clinton’s.

“Hey, Neal - wanna go to lunch?”

He look up, praying that he didn’t seem too happy, to eager to be included in today’s plans.

“Sure.” He got up, did a happy little flip with the hat and waited for Diana and Jones to join them.

Peter pulled him towards the front door, and Neal looked back at the office. “Aren’t …”

“Nope - just us today.”

That was a little strange. It had been months since they had shared a meal - just the two of them. Not since …

Adler. The sub. The treasure.

Neal felt a little sick.

Peter turned to him. “What’s the matter?”

“You sure you want to have lunch with me?”

“Why not?” Peter sounded genuinely puzzled.

Neal shrugged. “Well, okay. If you want to.”

Peter gave him a gentle smile and just said “come on.”

They ended up at a small restaurant, not far from the office. Right on the edge of Chinatown, the patrons were mostly Chinese. Neal heard a mixture of Cantonese and Mandarin, but little English and he wondered why Peter picked this place.

Neal got an inkling that something was going on when they were shown to a table and Peter asked for a booth. They ordered and Peter leaned back and smiled at him.

“This is nice, isn’t it? Just the two of us - sharing lunch.”

Neal smiled - or tried to. “Yeah, it’s nice. And it’s been a while.”

Peter nodded. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

Neal was startled. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“A lot, Neal. A lot. If I hadn’t accused you after the warehouse blew up, you would have come to me.”

Neal understood why Peter picked this place now - they could talk freely. “Peter - I don’t know. I don’t know - maybe. Or maybe nothing would have changed. It was the score of a lifetime.”

“And yet, given every opportunity to leave, you chose to stay.”

Neal nodded. “I couldn’t go. This life - it means too much to me now.”

The waiter brought their food, but he had little appetite.

Peter looked at him and shook his head.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“I do - you confound me, though.”

Neal didn’t know what to make of that. He tried to eat, if just to avoid having to talk.

That didn’t stop Peter, who put down his chopsticks and gave him a terrifying look. It seemed to bore right into his soul. “Neal - I never want to go back to where we were. Neck deep in a game of cat and mouse. I want to be able to trust you again.”

Neal blinked - he didn’t think Peter would ever be able to trust him. Not with his life, not with anything that mattered. But still … “I’d like that, too.”

Peter took a sip of tea, and Neal almost laughed at the face he made.

“I’ve got a problem. And I need help solving it. Your help.”

Neal felt his back straightened, his shoulders drop, his chin go up. “That’s what I’m here for. To help. You.” He blinked.

Peter smiled gently. “The Egyptian government wants the amulet back. You know the one I’m talking about. The one that Keller stole out of the Cairo Museum.”

Neal swallowed but didn’t say anything.

Peter continued. “The US Attorney says that Keller confessed to the original theft, but says he didn’t take it from Raquel Laroque’s studio. He left it behind when he ran.”

“And you believe Matthew Keller?”

“He’s facing life in prison for my kidnapping, for El’s kidnapping. For Hale’s murder, plus his original manslaughter plea. But the Egyptian Government has offered to take him off our hands and give him a life sentence in one of their prisons. From what I understand, he would like life in Tora Prison a lot less than the Florence Supermax. Not even the remotest chance of Tiffany lamps and brandy-soaked cigars. He has every incentive to return the amulet.”

“The US Attorney is considering the rendition?”

Peter grimaced. “It’s on the table. As much as I’d like to see Keller suffer in the Ninth Circle of Hell, I still have to believe in the justice system. Keller shouldn't get a way out - even through death - for his crimes. If the amulet were recovered, the Egyptian Government would be far less interested in taking Keller.”

“Justice, not revenge?”

“Yeah - trust you to quote my own words back at me.”

Neal shifted in his seat. He knew what Peter wanted. “If I could broker the return, no questioned asked, would everyone be satisfied?”

Peter gave him a long look. “No questioned asked?”

“Yeah - I may be able to track it down.” Track it down to the space underneath the loose floorboard in my closet. “If I can assure the person who has it that this would mean Keller’s gone for good - and will live a long, empty, lonely life in a space little bigger than a coffin, that may be incentive enough.”

“Okay then. No questions asked.” Peter seemed satisfied and finished his meal.

Neal toyed with his food. This didn’t feel right. Actually, it felt all wrong.

“I have it.”

Peter looked up.

“I have the amulet. I took it from Raquel’s place after Keller fled.” He waited for Peter’s anger.

And yet, all he said was, “You really need to work on this impulse control problem.”

“You knew?”

“I suspected. I didn’t want to accuse, though. Not like last time.”

Neal gave Peter a sour grimace. “So what now?”

“Return the amulet, no questions asked. Keller stays in Florence Supermax. We get better.”

Neal swallowed as Peter cast out that last line. The words lingered in the air like the scent of garlic and ginger tossed into a hot wok. So very simple.

We get better.

FIN

Written for elainasaunt for her very first White Collar fic prompt:
Once El is rescued, Mozzie redeemed, Keller dealt with - once all the dust has settled, Peter finally remembers the "amulet". Peter figuring out Neal has it and persuading him to hand it over, and Neal allowing himself to be persuaded. Bonus points for either or both of them setting the record straight on what the object actually is.

I didn’t go for bonus points, but I hope I did the rest of the prompt justice.