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elrhiarhodanTitle: Take Care of All Those Charms
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Peter/Elizabeth, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke
Spoilers: S3.05 – Veiled Threat
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Marital Harmony, Wedding Schmoop
Word Count: ~1300
Summary: A look at the events in Veiled Threat through Elizabeth’s eyes. Originally written for Promptfest VI, for the prompt “Trust Issues.” Fills “Body Image” Square on my H/C Bingo card. Title from Annie Lennox - "Keep Young and Beautiful".
__________________
She knew that it was her own damn fault. When Peter sheepishly told her about the undercover assignment he allowed himself to be roped into, Elizabeth had gotten so annoyed at her husband’s self-deprecation that it became a matter of personal pride that he put on a good showing. Not necessarily win – because Neal was the real stalking horse – but because at that moment, it was important that Peter understand just how wonderful and sexy he really was.
None of them expected this little caper to spiral so far out of their control when the unthinkable happened – Neal’s wit and charm seemed to hold little appeal for their black widow, but Peter’s blundering and shy frankness did.
She should have been proud – and for a second or two she was. But when she realized that her husband was going to have to take another woman out on a date, pride curdled into something else - a dark, hard, rotten pit of jealousy, which made her a little ashamed. She was not the type of woman who threw hissy fits because her husband glanced at another woman. And she certainly understood that sometimes his work required him to do things he normally wouldn’t – roles that could be uncomfortable.
But for some reason, this operation hit a raw nerve. She had sneaked a peek at the case file. Selena was a highly attractive woman, tall and lithe, with cheekbones like knives and eyes like a jungle cat. Just looking at her picture made Elizabeth feel small and dumpy and unlovely, a stodgy suburban housewife who somehow managed to snag a god of a man.
Intellectually, rationally, she knew this wasn’t true, and she knew deep in her bones that without this case, Peter wouldn’t have blinked if the lovely widow had walked across the room stark naked.
But still, it hurt. Even watching Peter hem and haw and get flustered and upset, it hurt.
That night, when Peter came back from his “date” with Selena, reeking of alcohol and another woman’s perfume, she wanted to cry. She took Satchmo out for a walk – she needed three trips around the block to get control over her tears and emotions. How did they go from a couple whose worst problems were about the dry cleaning to this?
Neal had left and Peter was reading in bed when she came in.
“You okay?”
She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Lovely, bet the beautiful Selena would never do that. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
She dropped onto the bed next to her husband. He reached for her, and Elizabeth didn’t resist when he pulled her into his arms.
“This is only the job. It’s a means to an end. We are going to put a serial killer away.”
“I know.” She sniffed again, feeling as low as she ever had. A few tears escaped.
Peter tucked his fingers under her chin and tilted it up. “Hey, hey. What is this?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.” Peter hated crying women.
“No, it’s not. You’re really upset.”
She tried to pull away, but he held fast. “I don’t know – this time – it’s just – it feels wrong.”
He pulled her closer and she rested her head against his chest. She lay there for a few minutes, letting the slow, steady lub-dub of his heartbeat soothe her. She sighed, but was still unable to relax.
Peter kissed the top of her head. “What’s the matter, hon?”
She looked up at him. Licking her lips, El asked, “Will you sleep with her? If you need to make the case, will you have sex with her?”
“No!” Peter’s explosive denial was gratifying. “I’d castrate myself first.”
That was all the reassurance she needed. Elizabeth didn't have to lie through her teeth and say that she’d be okay with that. Because that would be a lie. She knew that it was well within the realm of possibility. Agents were called upon to do many repugnant things when they were undercover – having sex with a suspect was one of the least of them.
Peter looked at her – really looked at her, love and worry in his eyes, and she felt a stab of remorse. He should have to worry about her on top of everything else.
She kissed Peter, putting all of her love and passion for him into her lips; he responded with equally frantic desire.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
And yet, despite all of Peter’s assurances that he’d have the case wrapped up, the three of them were in Selena's apartment, planning a wedding. Her husband and his fiancée were on the couch and El in a chair across from the “happy couple.” Yes, Peter looked upset and uncomfortable, but the bitch sitting next to him, with her hands all over him, was like the cat that ate the cream. Elizabeth wanted to take her pen and plunge it into the other woman’s eyes.
Elizabeth controlled herself, for the most part. But when they started discussing guest lists and the actual size of the party, she couldn’t keep the wistfulness out of her voice.
As much as she loved their wedding, she didn’t lie to that bitch, Selena, about her preference for a small, intimate affair. But with two large, boisterous families, friends and business colleagues, their wedding was not so much a celebration of Peter and Elizabeth, but of the grand expectations of everyone else.
The ceremony she planned for her husband and Selena was just the type of wedding she’d want for herself if she had the chance to do it again. Not that she’d want to - that is - have another wedding. She and Peter were like snow geese or wolves or swans, they were mated for life, or so she hoped.
Still, for some strange reason, and even though she knew the whole thing was a sham, she put all of the wedding plans into motion. Booking the hotel, the decorations, everything but the celebrant. When she told Peter, he just grinned and said to give him the bill with Burke Premier Event’s standard markup. If they had to, they’d take it down to the wire and use a phony minister to conduct the services.
In the end, that wasn’t necessary. Neal came to their rescue - clever Neal, duplicitous Neal. She didn’t quite understand when Peter told her what they did to Selena’s partner in crime, but she was grateful. When Peter called her to tell her the bitch was in handcuffs, but he might be tied up with the paperwork, she just breathed a sigh of relief.
Which was why she wasn’t overly concerned when Jones showed up at her doorstep telling her that Peter needed her. El figured it had something do to with wrapping everything up - maybe he wanted her to give a witness statement. That idea went out the window as Clinton drove past the Federal Plaza building, and headed north on the Henry Hudson Parkway. The route was familiar enough. They were heading to Neal’s place - and she couldn’t even begin to understand why.
Jones just smiled and said everything was good, Peter was fine, but he needed her for something. El relaxed and was content to be surprised.
June and Diana were chatting in the front parlor, but Peter was nowhere to be seen.
“He’s upstairs, darling. In Neal’s apartment.” June toasted her with a glass of scotch and a wink. Diana just grinned.
To find Peter waiting there for her, dressed in his tuxedo, surrounded by the delicately beautiful wedding decorations she had ordered, was a sight she’d never forget.
When Peter, her husband, her lover and her best friend went down on one knee and asked her to marry him, tears choking his words, Elizabeth thought her heart would burst with happiness.
Afterwards, after Mozzie remarried them, after the cake and the champagne and the hugs and kisses from Neal and Diana and Clinton and June, they stood alone together on the terrace. Peter draped his jacket around her.
“I love you, Mrs. Burke. Don’t ever forget that.”
She looked up at him – words escaping her. She brushed her fingers against his lips, his breath warm against her skin. “I love you too.”
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Peter/Elizabeth, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke
Spoilers: S3.05 – Veiled Threat
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Marital Harmony, Wedding Schmoop
Word Count: ~1300
Summary: A look at the events in Veiled Threat through Elizabeth’s eyes. Originally written for Promptfest VI, for the prompt “Trust Issues.” Fills “Body Image” Square on my H/C Bingo card. Title from Annie Lennox - "Keep Young and Beautiful".
She knew that it was her own damn fault. When Peter sheepishly told her about the undercover assignment he allowed himself to be roped into, Elizabeth had gotten so annoyed at her husband’s self-deprecation that it became a matter of personal pride that he put on a good showing. Not necessarily win – because Neal was the real stalking horse – but because at that moment, it was important that Peter understand just how wonderful and sexy he really was.
None of them expected this little caper to spiral so far out of their control when the unthinkable happened – Neal’s wit and charm seemed to hold little appeal for their black widow, but Peter’s blundering and shy frankness did.
She should have been proud – and for a second or two she was. But when she realized that her husband was going to have to take another woman out on a date, pride curdled into something else - a dark, hard, rotten pit of jealousy, which made her a little ashamed. She was not the type of woman who threw hissy fits because her husband glanced at another woman. And she certainly understood that sometimes his work required him to do things he normally wouldn’t – roles that could be uncomfortable.
But for some reason, this operation hit a raw nerve. She had sneaked a peek at the case file. Selena was a highly attractive woman, tall and lithe, with cheekbones like knives and eyes like a jungle cat. Just looking at her picture made Elizabeth feel small and dumpy and unlovely, a stodgy suburban housewife who somehow managed to snag a god of a man.
Intellectually, rationally, she knew this wasn’t true, and she knew deep in her bones that without this case, Peter wouldn’t have blinked if the lovely widow had walked across the room stark naked.
But still, it hurt. Even watching Peter hem and haw and get flustered and upset, it hurt.
That night, when Peter came back from his “date” with Selena, reeking of alcohol and another woman’s perfume, she wanted to cry. She took Satchmo out for a walk – she needed three trips around the block to get control over her tears and emotions. How did they go from a couple whose worst problems were about the dry cleaning to this?
Neal had left and Peter was reading in bed when she came in.
“You okay?”
She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Lovely, bet the beautiful Selena would never do that. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
She dropped onto the bed next to her husband. He reached for her, and Elizabeth didn’t resist when he pulled her into his arms.
“This is only the job. It’s a means to an end. We are going to put a serial killer away.”
“I know.” She sniffed again, feeling as low as she ever had. A few tears escaped.
Peter tucked his fingers under her chin and tilted it up. “Hey, hey. What is this?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.” Peter hated crying women.
“No, it’s not. You’re really upset.”
She tried to pull away, but he held fast. “I don’t know – this time – it’s just – it feels wrong.”
He pulled her closer and she rested her head against his chest. She lay there for a few minutes, letting the slow, steady lub-dub of his heartbeat soothe her. She sighed, but was still unable to relax.
Peter kissed the top of her head. “What’s the matter, hon?”
She looked up at him. Licking her lips, El asked, “Will you sleep with her? If you need to make the case, will you have sex with her?”
“No!” Peter’s explosive denial was gratifying. “I’d castrate myself first.”
That was all the reassurance she needed. Elizabeth didn't have to lie through her teeth and say that she’d be okay with that. Because that would be a lie. She knew that it was well within the realm of possibility. Agents were called upon to do many repugnant things when they were undercover – having sex with a suspect was one of the least of them.
Peter looked at her – really looked at her, love and worry in his eyes, and she felt a stab of remorse. He should have to worry about her on top of everything else.
She kissed Peter, putting all of her love and passion for him into her lips; he responded with equally frantic desire.
And yet, despite all of Peter’s assurances that he’d have the case wrapped up, the three of them were in Selena's apartment, planning a wedding. Her husband and his fiancée were on the couch and El in a chair across from the “happy couple.” Yes, Peter looked upset and uncomfortable, but the bitch sitting next to him, with her hands all over him, was like the cat that ate the cream. Elizabeth wanted to take her pen and plunge it into the other woman’s eyes.
Elizabeth controlled herself, for the most part. But when they started discussing guest lists and the actual size of the party, she couldn’t keep the wistfulness out of her voice.
As much as she loved their wedding, she didn’t lie to that bitch, Selena, about her preference for a small, intimate affair. But with two large, boisterous families, friends and business colleagues, their wedding was not so much a celebration of Peter and Elizabeth, but of the grand expectations of everyone else.
The ceremony she planned for her husband and Selena was just the type of wedding she’d want for herself if she had the chance to do it again. Not that she’d want to - that is - have another wedding. She and Peter were like snow geese or wolves or swans, they were mated for life, or so she hoped.
Still, for some strange reason, and even though she knew the whole thing was a sham, she put all of the wedding plans into motion. Booking the hotel, the decorations, everything but the celebrant. When she told Peter, he just grinned and said to give him the bill with Burke Premier Event’s standard markup. If they had to, they’d take it down to the wire and use a phony minister to conduct the services.
In the end, that wasn’t necessary. Neal came to their rescue - clever Neal, duplicitous Neal. She didn’t quite understand when Peter told her what they did to Selena’s partner in crime, but she was grateful. When Peter called her to tell her the bitch was in handcuffs, but he might be tied up with the paperwork, she just breathed a sigh of relief.
Which was why she wasn’t overly concerned when Jones showed up at her doorstep telling her that Peter needed her. El figured it had something do to with wrapping everything up - maybe he wanted her to give a witness statement. That idea went out the window as Clinton drove past the Federal Plaza building, and headed north on the Henry Hudson Parkway. The route was familiar enough. They were heading to Neal’s place - and she couldn’t even begin to understand why.
Jones just smiled and said everything was good, Peter was fine, but he needed her for something. El relaxed and was content to be surprised.
June and Diana were chatting in the front parlor, but Peter was nowhere to be seen.
“He’s upstairs, darling. In Neal’s apartment.” June toasted her with a glass of scotch and a wink. Diana just grinned.
To find Peter waiting there for her, dressed in his tuxedo, surrounded by the delicately beautiful wedding decorations she had ordered, was a sight she’d never forget.
When Peter, her husband, her lover and her best friend went down on one knee and asked her to marry him, tears choking his words, Elizabeth thought her heart would burst with happiness.
Afterwards, after Mozzie remarried them, after the cake and the champagne and the hugs and kisses from Neal and Diana and Clinton and June, they stood alone together on the terrace. Peter draped his jacket around her.
“I love you, Mrs. Burke. Don’t ever forget that.”
She looked up at him – words escaping her. She brushed her fingers against his lips, his breath warm against her skin. “I love you too.”
