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Title: Privilege
Author: [livejournal.com profile] elrhiarhodan 
Rating: R (for language and OT3 sex, not graphic but descriptive)
Fandom: White Collar
Spoilers: 101, 113, 114
Summary: Fifteen Seconds Really Shouldn’t Make That Much Difference
Warnings/Triggers: Some legal stuff (and what else is new?)
Word Count: ~8000 (Sum of all parts)
Disclaimer: Nope, own nothing - but if I did, there would be a continuing storyline requiring either Peter or Neal (or both of them) to wear jackboots. The kind that the Queen’s Horse Guard wear.

A/N: I really wanted to find a reason why Peter Burke, so obviously brilliant – would occasionally be such a dork or so unsure of himself, particularly when it comes to interpersonal things. I thought, maybe – something from childhood, but I didn’t want to go down paths already trodden. I wanted to stay with something I know all about – sibling rivalry. I flashed on Allison Janney as Peter’s twin sister. IRL she’s a few years older than Tim DeKay, but the coloring and bone structure sort of match, and the roles she’s played are consistent with the personality of the character I’m trying to create.

This is set in the same universe as Minutes and Hours, Neal Caffrey, (Wage) Slave, and probably How Long Did You Did You Think You Could Keep This Up (Before I Found Out).   It's also the second entry on my "Five Things About Peter Burke" post.

The story takes place a year and some months after the Season 1 Finale.

Many, many thanks to the excellent beta work by the incomparable [livejournal.com profile] gyzym. Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

------------------------------------


Peter was torn – he wanted to get his team started on the investigation immediately, but he needed to brief Hughes first. This was a case that would likely consume significant resources, and while he fully expected the AD’s support, it would be best to get approval before starting. Unfortunately, Reese was in a budget meeting and wouldn’t be available until that evening, at the earliest. But the feeling of the hard Kevlar vest beneath his sister’s suit jacket was making Peter a little crazy.

Peter could see the questions piling up in Neal’s eyes. If he had learned anything in the time he’d been working with Neal, it was that things would go a lot smoother if he satisfied his partner’s curiosity before Neal tried to satisfy it for himself. Deciding that discretion was still the better part of valor, he pushed Neal towards the staircase and followed him downstairs. “Not here – let’s take a walk.” Peter nodded to his agents, seeing questions in their eyes as well. Both had met Isabelle before, and would be curious about her brief visit. But Clinton and Diana were disciplined and experienced enough to know that Peter would brief them if he needed their input.

With little ceremony, Peter steered Neal to the elevators, then outside. The area around the FBI offices in Federal Plaza was filled with open space, and lately Peter preferred to conduct sensitive conversations with Neal in places were he could have a 360-degree view of his surroundings. However, he really didn’t care if Mentor was listening in on their conversation today – there was probably nothing they didn’t know about his sister or her visit, since she was not exactly flying under the radar.

It was a few minutes walk to one of their lunch spots; Peter and Neal were such regular customers that the hostess let them go right to their usual table in the courtyard. Thankfully, they had the space to themselves in the late afternoon hours between the lunch and dinner crowd, and the waitress brought them their usual order.

~ ~ ~

Neal watched Peter stare off into the middle distance. Peter was more than driven these days –worrying constantly that Mentor was going to grab him or that he would try to go after Fowler on his own. Worrying about Elizabeth and that Mentor would use her again to get to them. Worrying about his team; that the men and women he worked with and relied upon would be transferred out from under him and put into harm’s way. Peter worried about everyone, and Neal worried about Peter. Even Captain America can get killed.

For a very short while, after they started sleeping together, Neal wondered if Peter was giving Elizabeth to him in recompense for not saving Kate – as if Elizabeth were a thing and not a person, and she and Kate were somehow interchangeable. The thought of that had made him blisteringly, almost insanely angry.

One hot June night on the living room couch, after he had brought Elizabeth to orgasm three times with his mouth and fingers, Peter pulled him up from between his wife’s thighs, grabbed his hair and brutally kissed him. Neal had melted into that kiss until he heard Peter say “Tell me you know she’s not Kate.” Neal exploded in a rage, hitting out at Peter with his closed fists. Neal kept punching, swinging wildly while the other man didn’t try to defend himself or hit back. Peter just tried to capture and calm Neal down, but anger lent Neal a wily strength. Elizabeth came to Peter’s rescue and dumped a pitcher of water over them.

Somehow, Neal ended up wet, naked and weeping, rocking back and forth in Peter’s arms. Over the pounding of his heart and his own sobs, he heard Peter crying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

Elizabeth knelt down in front of both men and hugged them tight. In that woman-wise voice of hers, she said, “Don’t you think it’s time we talked about this?”

Those were some of the most difficult moments of Neal’s life – worse than his arrest, worse than hearing his sentence read, and worse than listening to Kate tell him goodbye in the prison visiting room. It certainly rivaled the hours he spent with the Mentor files that Diana had copied from Fowler’s computer, pulling together the pieces that showed how Kate had been betraying him from very the beginning and ultimately how she somehow got caught up in an evil greater than her own.

What came out of that conversation; however, was as pure and durable as a flawless diamond. He had known for years (it was impossible not to) that Peter had been wildly attracted to him, and after all, hadn’t Neal felt the same for Peter? Neal was surprised to learn that it had been Elizabeth who urged Peter to finally act upon that attraction. What truly shocked him, though, was when they both revealed the true depth of their feelings for him – Neal Caffrey, criminal. If Elizabeth’s simple declaration, “Neal – I love you was a punch in the gut, Peter’s halting, artless confession was like a blow to the brain. All of a sudden, everything made sense – Peter coming after him when he escaped, convincing the FBI to take him on as a consultant (at great risk to his own career), protecting him from Kate, from Mentor. The conversation in Peter’s office after rescuing Stuart Gless’ daughter, and that last, heartbreaking speech in the hanger was Peter’s love-gift to him – offering Neal a life that he saw as the best possible thing in the world.

Neal couldn’t help but be honest them – at that time, he was still too shell-shocked over Kate to know if what he felt was love, but Peter and Elizabeth were willing to wait for him, to let him heal. It was a measure of his own progress that he recognized how desperately worried Peter was, and the toll it was taking on him. Though it went against the grain, Neal didn’t struggle against Peter’s protectiveness. He had hurt Peter enough, and if letting Peter watch over him gave the man some relief, then Neal could live with that.

~ ~ ~

He’s actually learning some discretion. Peter was impressed that Neal didn’t immediately pepper him with questions. He supposed that what prison didn’t teach, the disaster with the music box did. Then Neal opened his mouth – And… he ruined it. Peter smiled.

“Peter-face?”

“Neal, if you call me that again, you’ll sleep on my wet spot for a month.”

“That would be an actual threat if the bed wasn’t one big wet spot most nights. We should probably invest in one of those rubber mattress pads old people need. A real threat would be to turn me over to OPR with a big red bow around my neck. Or a blue one, to match my eyes.”

Peter’s smile disappeared. “Don’t EVER joke about that.”

“Yeah – bad taste.” Something about the late spring afternoon infused Neal with a bit of the old recklessness. “Peter-face.”

“You just can’t help yourself, Caffrey, can you?” The smile returned to Peter’s lips.

“No. Nope. Never.”

Peter let the silence linger, to see just how long Neal could hold out. Wait for it, Burke – wait for it. Ah…here it comes.

Neal opened his mouth again, but he caught the look in Peter’s eyes, and changed his tack. “I have all night, but you might want to think about getting home to Elizabeth.”

“As if you’re not just as eager to get home.” Peter relented, “What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Like why you love your sister, but you really don’t like her.”

Peter shouldn’t have been surprised at Neal’s perceptiveness, not after this long – but it was still something of a shock to be read so easily. “How could you tell that?”

“Well, I am something of an expert on annoying Peter Burke, and I never seen quite that look of distaste on your face. Or maybe distaste isn’t the right word – frustration, pain, anger?”

“Yeah, frustration, pain, anger. That pretty much sums up Isabelle.” Peter took a sip of his beer. “No matter what I did, she always did it better, quicker, easier. It seemed like I spent half my teenage years feeling like I wasn’t measuring up to her. It didn’t help that she was six feet tall before my voice broke. And she has never stopped rubbing those damn fifteen seconds in my face.”

“She does it because she knows it sets you off.” Neal stated the obvious.

“Yeah, and I let her get to me.”

“Did you parents play favorites?”

Peter shook his head emphatically, “No. If anything, they may have over-compensated.” Peter looked at Neal, sitting back in his chair, nursing a cappuccino, perfectly polished. “Done psychoanalyzing me?”

“Yeah. So – what’s the deal with her? She seems a bit, well, self-important.”

Peter laughed, unamused. “Not self-important. She is important.” At Neal’s puzzled look, he continued. “My sister, perfect SAT scores, perfect GPA - full ride at Harvard undergrad and Harvard Law School. Top of her class at the U.S. Air Force Academy. Decorated for service in Desert Storm. Senior member of the Judge Advocate General’s staff. The U. S. Attorney for Northern California. And now, Chief Legal Officer for Aero-Dyne Corporation with a seven-figure salary. I guess she got tired of the civil service pay grade. I think this is the first time in her life that something hasn’t worked out for her.” Peter’s voice had a bitter edge at that last bit.

“I don’t think your life has turned out so badly, Peter.” Neal said quietly. “How many people does Isabelle go home to that love her like El and I love you?”

“Neal…” Peter swallowed against the sudden emotion. God, the man had good timing.

“And Peter, for the record – a 4.0 at Yale, a Masters of Philosophy in Economic History and a PhD in Sociology from the London School of Economics isn’t anything to sneeze at. First in your class at Quantico, too. What – you think I don’t know your CV?” Neal actually sounded angry. “She’s your sister. She creamed you at dodge ball. Get over it.”

Peter shook his head and laughed. “When you put it that way, it does seem stupid.”

Neal reached out and covered Peter’s hand with his own, his thumb caressing Peter’s knuckles. “Not stupid, only human.

Go to Part IV

Date: 2010-03-24 02:12 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ursula4x.livejournal.com
That was both a delightful, playful, and insightful exchange between Neal and Peter.

Date: 2010-03-25 12:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ursula4x.livejournal.com
The OT3 went missing. ;-{


Story prompt!

Date: 2010-03-24 04:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] doctor-fangeek.livejournal.com
Thanks for the re-post. I was wondering how they ended up in the restaurant when I read it the first time, and the part that got lost in the editing/posting process is wonderfully done, and very powerful...I'm glad it got "found."

Date: 2012-03-18 01:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ebeneezerdark.livejournal.com
“How many people does Isabelle go home to
that love her like El and I love you?”

YAY, Neal, for going to the heart of why Peter WINS.

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