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elrhiarhodanTitle: The Cold, Empty Pulse of Night - Part 10 / ?
Author:elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke
Prompt #059 - Stars
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: 300 – Exactly
Beta Credit:coffeethyme4me
Summary: Neal needs to forget, just for a night.
A/N: My apologies - I hadn't intended to let this go for so long (August was the last time I posted a chapter). It's still going, and the end is almost in sight.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine
__________________
Peter couldn’t concentrate on the caseload when he got back to the office. He coasted through the afternoon meeting, and when Diana asked if he was coming down with the same bug that Caffrey seemed to have, he shrugged and made an off-hand comment about summer colds.
He called up Neal’s tracking data again, this time zeroing in on the address where he seemed to spend so many hours. Peter had thought it was a bar, or maybe an all-night coffee shop, or a diner. But the address was an office building, the anonymous kind. Fifteen floors of doctors and lawyers and accountants. No coffee shop, no bar or restaurant or any kind of place that would be opened from midnight to four in the morning.
Whatever the hell Neal was doing there three nights – three mornings a week was destroying him. Peter intended to find out just what it was and put a stop to it. Neal was far too … important … to lose him to. He’d handle Neal’s inevitable anger.
He left the office, telling Diana that he’d be in late tomorrow. Whatever was happening at Broadway and 92nd Street wasn’t going to be visible during the daylight, and he suspected his unofficial stakeout was going to last well after the stars had set.
Elizabeth packed a sandwich for him, smoked turkey on rye. Somewhere along the line, Peter had lost his taste for eating deviled ham when Neal wasn’t in the car with him. As he sat there, a replay of the night’s Yankees’ game playing softly on the radio, Peter watched as a stream of well-dressed men and a few women disappeared into the building. None of the upper floors were lit, but something was going on.
Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.
To Be Continued
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke
Prompt #059 - Stars
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: 300 – Exactly
Beta Credit:
coffeethyme4meSummary: Neal needs to forget, just for a night.
A/N: My apologies - I hadn't intended to let this go for so long (August was the last time I posted a chapter). It's still going, and the end is almost in sight.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine
Peter couldn’t concentrate on the caseload when he got back to the office. He coasted through the afternoon meeting, and when Diana asked if he was coming down with the same bug that Caffrey seemed to have, he shrugged and made an off-hand comment about summer colds.
He called up Neal’s tracking data again, this time zeroing in on the address where he seemed to spend so many hours. Peter had thought it was a bar, or maybe an all-night coffee shop, or a diner. But the address was an office building, the anonymous kind. Fifteen floors of doctors and lawyers and accountants. No coffee shop, no bar or restaurant or any kind of place that would be opened from midnight to four in the morning.
Whatever the hell Neal was doing there three nights – three mornings a week was destroying him. Peter intended to find out just what it was and put a stop to it. Neal was far too … important … to lose him to. He’d handle Neal’s inevitable anger.
He left the office, telling Diana that he’d be in late tomorrow. Whatever was happening at Broadway and 92nd Street wasn’t going to be visible during the daylight, and he suspected his unofficial stakeout was going to last well after the stars had set.
Elizabeth packed a sandwich for him, smoked turkey on rye. Somewhere along the line, Peter had lost his taste for eating deviled ham when Neal wasn’t in the car with him. As he sat there, a replay of the night’s Yankees’ game playing softly on the radio, Peter watched as a stream of well-dressed men and a few women disappeared into the building. None of the upper floors were lit, but something was going on.
Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.
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Date: 2013-03-22 03:56 am (UTC)I've loved what you started here and I'm anxious to see where it goes when Peter finds out what's really going on with Neal.