White Collar Ficlet – A Breather (WC100 - #016 - PAINT)

[elrhiarhodan]

Title: A Breather
Prompt: White Collar 100 – #016: PAINT
Author: elrhiarhodan
Rating: R
Characters/Pairing: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke
Fandom: White Collar
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: 300 Exactly!
Summary: Even our intrepid heroes need a breather, a small break in the action. Continues the Danger Series. 
 
THE DANGER SERIES:

TARGET | HUNT | CASE | FILE | BACKGROUND | INTERROGATION | WITNESS | HOME | HOME 2 | FAMILY | FAMILY 2 | TEAM | UNIT | UNIT 2 | PAPER | CLAY

______________________



Peter thought Neal was enjoying “protective custody” a bit too much. His tracker was off (probably in a box on Diana’s desk), Hughes had reached out to the Marshals’ Office and let them know that Neal was under cover for the foreseeable future. Given how often Neal had been without the tracker over the past year, the Marshals hadn’t even asked for back up paperwork.

They spent hours going over the McGuinness-Humboldt files, tracking down the smallest details, but every time they thought they had a lead, it dissolved into nothing. It would have been better had they hit a brick wall, at least they’d have something to tear down.

Peter was still fuming over the bombs in the cars, the triggers in his house – but he seethed quietly. El wasn’t doing too good in this enforced retreat from reality, and to learn that her life was in jeopardy would make it even worse.

But Neal was taking everything in stride, when he wasn’t working with Peter; he was working on a mural in the main room, Michelangelo-style. It was breathtaking – a trompe l’oeil sky and garden. Peter liked to watch Neal work, an artist at his craft. At the end of a session, he’d swing down from the scaffolding like a trapeze artist and give Peter a quick kiss before heading off to bathe.

Despite El’s agitation and his own anger at their helplessness, Peter did enjoy the nights. To be able to climb into that big bed, to have El on one side, Neal on the other, Satchmo on the floor, nearby. To hear them breathing, to have them safe in his arms; to smell his wife’s perfume pleasingly mix with the lingering traces of Neal’s paint.

If someone wasn’t trying to kill him, he’d be very happy.
 

Go to Fingerprints - WC100 #017 - Ink