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Title: At The Bottom of an Empty Box
Author:
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Sara Ellis, Neal Caffrey, Sara/Neal
Spoilers: S2.15 - Power Play
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~660
Summary: Sara’s been getting unmarked packages for almost all her adult life, and each one breaks her heart a little more.
A/N: Beta’d by my ever-wonderful friend,
jrosemary. All mistakes are mine and mine alone. Written for
lionessvalenti for Day Three of the Eight Days of Fic-Can-ukah. The prompt was "An Unmarked Box."
__________________
For a decade, the boxes have arrived like clockwork - one on her birthday, one on the day before Christmas. The return address information is always carefully, cleverly anonymous. The postmark is random - one package was from Duluth, another from Scranton, another from Stockton, California. Once, from Edison, New Jersey. Places without rhyme or reason.
The boxes were filled with nothing. And they broke her heart.
Sara wanted to move - to up end her life and just go someplace where the boxes would never find her. But she liked her life; she loved her job and her apartment. And most importantly, there were people here that she could call on, any time day or night, and know that they’d come to her if she needed them.
No, Sara wasn’t going to run. But every time those boxes arrived, she had a moment of sickness. She’d open the parcel, rip it apart if she had to, and find nothing. She’d sit there amongst the destruction and try not to cry. Try not to cry on her birthday, on Christmas Eve.
The first year that she and Neal had gotten together, then back together, they were apart for her birthday. He didn’t see the box, he wasn’t there to witness her tears.
But by Christmas, they were a couple again - almost too blissfully happy. Neal was spending the entire holiday weekend with her and tomorrow, Christmas Day, they were going over to Peter and Elizabeth’s for dinner. They had hung stockings from the mantle, decorated a little tree, drank some of the most awful eggnog ever made and burned their tongues on tasteless lumps of burned chestnuts. And then the mailman arrived, with a slew of cards and catalogs and the inevitable large priority mail package. A box unmarked except for her address.
She tossed it in the trash. This year was the start of something new, something good, something real and important and she wasn’t going to waste a single moment thinking about the craziness of those packages.
Of course, Neal had to see her do that.
“Do you always throw away presents, Repo?” He hugged her from behind, and pressed biting kisses against her neck. The erection that was rubbing against her ass was nice too.
“It’s not a present. It’s a practical joke.” Her voice was sharper than she intended.
“You can tell just by looking?” Neal danced around her to retrieve the box. She tried to stop him - a big mistake. Now Neal was interested. He picked it up and gave her a puzzled look.
“Yes, it’s empty.” Sara replied to his unasked question.
“You’re sure?” He shook the box.
“I’m positive. They’ve all been empty. For ten years they’ve been empty.”
“Someone’s been sending you empty boxes for ten years?”
“Yeah - how twisted is that?”
“Maybe Peter and the team could help - see if there are any usable prints.” Neal sounded worried now.
“Oh, I don’t need to get Peter involved, I know who’s sending them.”
He gave her that look - the one that conveyed everything in a single expression.
“It's my sister - she’s been sending them on my birthday and for Christmas since she ran off. They are always empty. And always from someplace different.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been asking myself that for a decade. There’s nothing inside. It’s just an empty box.”
Neal looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he tossed the box into the garbage and grabbed her. “Wanna go ice skating?”
She smiled and put on her jacket, grateful that Neal was willing to forego the mystery of the empty box.
At least for now.
When Prometheus stole fire from heaven, Zeus took vengeance by presenting Pandora, the first woman, as a wife to Epimetheus, Prometheus' brother. As a wedding gift, Zeus’ jealous wife, Hera, gave her a box which she was told was not to open under any circumstance. But impelled by her natural curiosity, Pandora opened the box, and all the evil contained in it escaped and spread over the earth. She hastened to close the lid, but the whole contents of the box had escaped before she could. It was empty, except for one thing which lay at the bottom.
Hope.
Fin
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Sara Ellis, Neal Caffrey, Sara/Neal
Spoilers: S2.15 - Power Play
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~660
Summary: Sara’s been getting unmarked packages for almost all her adult life, and each one breaks her heart a little more.
A/N: Beta’d by my ever-wonderful friend,
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
For a decade, the boxes have arrived like clockwork - one on her birthday, one on the day before Christmas. The return address information is always carefully, cleverly anonymous. The postmark is random - one package was from Duluth, another from Scranton, another from Stockton, California. Once, from Edison, New Jersey. Places without rhyme or reason.
The boxes were filled with nothing. And they broke her heart.
Sara wanted to move - to up end her life and just go someplace where the boxes would never find her. But she liked her life; she loved her job and her apartment. And most importantly, there were people here that she could call on, any time day or night, and know that they’d come to her if she needed them.
No, Sara wasn’t going to run. But every time those boxes arrived, she had a moment of sickness. She’d open the parcel, rip it apart if she had to, and find nothing. She’d sit there amongst the destruction and try not to cry. Try not to cry on her birthday, on Christmas Eve.
The first year that she and Neal had gotten together, then back together, they were apart for her birthday. He didn’t see the box, he wasn’t there to witness her tears.
But by Christmas, they were a couple again - almost too blissfully happy. Neal was spending the entire holiday weekend with her and tomorrow, Christmas Day, they were going over to Peter and Elizabeth’s for dinner. They had hung stockings from the mantle, decorated a little tree, drank some of the most awful eggnog ever made and burned their tongues on tasteless lumps of burned chestnuts. And then the mailman arrived, with a slew of cards and catalogs and the inevitable large priority mail package. A box unmarked except for her address.
She tossed it in the trash. This year was the start of something new, something good, something real and important and she wasn’t going to waste a single moment thinking about the craziness of those packages.
Of course, Neal had to see her do that.
“Do you always throw away presents, Repo?” He hugged her from behind, and pressed biting kisses against her neck. The erection that was rubbing against her ass was nice too.
“It’s not a present. It’s a practical joke.” Her voice was sharper than she intended.
“You can tell just by looking?” Neal danced around her to retrieve the box. She tried to stop him - a big mistake. Now Neal was interested. He picked it up and gave her a puzzled look.
“Yes, it’s empty.” Sara replied to his unasked question.
“You’re sure?” He shook the box.
“I’m positive. They’ve all been empty. For ten years they’ve been empty.”
“Someone’s been sending you empty boxes for ten years?”
“Yeah - how twisted is that?”
“Maybe Peter and the team could help - see if there are any usable prints.” Neal sounded worried now.
“Oh, I don’t need to get Peter involved, I know who’s sending them.”
He gave her that look - the one that conveyed everything in a single expression.
“It's my sister - she’s been sending them on my birthday and for Christmas since she ran off. They are always empty. And always from someplace different.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been asking myself that for a decade. There’s nothing inside. It’s just an empty box.”
Neal looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he tossed the box into the garbage and grabbed her. “Wanna go ice skating?”
She smiled and put on her jacket, grateful that Neal was willing to forego the mystery of the empty box.
At least for now.
When Prometheus stole fire from heaven, Zeus took vengeance by presenting Pandora, the first woman, as a wife to Epimetheus, Prometheus' brother. As a wedding gift, Zeus’ jealous wife, Hera, gave her a box which she was told was not to open under any circumstance. But impelled by her natural curiosity, Pandora opened the box, and all the evil contained in it escaped and spread over the earth. She hastened to close the lid, but the whole contents of the box had escaped before she could. It was empty, except for one thing which lay at the bottom.
Hope.