Secret Santa: for ickydog2006 - (7 Parts)

[everest]

So it’s finally time for me to post my Secret Santa fic… and I’m kind of nervous. I hope you like it, ickydog2006!

This is your first prompt: White Collar: Neal comes down with the flu (sneezing, coughing, fever, possibly an instant of vomiting) and Burke takes care of him. So, yes, there may be some getting sick later in the story. There is nothing in this part, however, and I will post a warning at the top of a part if there is.

Disclaimer: I don’t own White Collar.

Oh, and if you don’t know the show, I’d highly recommend googling it, both for visuals on Matt Bomer (Who plays Neal) and to have a basic idea of what is going on. Extremely boiled down summary of the show: Neal Caffrey is an ex-con who has been released into the custody of the FBI for the remainder of his prison sentence.

Also, this is a multi-part story. I’m not so good with moving things along and wrapping them up… but hopefully that can be looked at as a good thing because it means more story. Also, since I'm already giving excuses, I'm not that good at fanfiction. Original is more my style. But I love writing this story, so hopefully you all enjoy it as well!

Anyway…

Part one:

Neal Caffrey was late. Maybe that wasn’t something that needed worrying over, but that didn’t stop Federal Agent Burke. Rarely ever did his partner not show up at the bureau on time, and he was never late without reason, not that Neal shared such reasons freely. So Peter had a feeling something was up from the minute Neal walked in, half an hour later than he should have.

He wasn’t planning some stunt, was he? He’d better not be. While Neal was off doing whatever it was that kept him from showing up to work on time, Peter had been reviewing the details of their latest case.

“Morning” Neal said, clearing his throat briefly.

“You’re late” The federal agent responded, without so much as looking up from his desk.

“Traffic.”

“Uhuh.” He looked up to see the ex-con’s clear blue eyes staring at him innocently. It didn’t mean anything; if anyone could lie, it was was Neal.

“What’s that?” Neal gestured toward the file on peter’s desk.

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“Is that so? So it isn’t an art forgery? I believe that is my thing. You know, allegedly.”

“How-“

“I have my sources”

“Jones told you?”

“He might have. So why weren’t you going to tell me?” Neil questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“I was going to tell you. Right after you told me why you were late.” Peter studied Neal’s face intently, determined to find a hint of what was going on with the younger man.

“I just told you that. Traffic.”

“Uhuh.”

“Look, can we just move on to the case?” Neal seemed uncomfortable. It both confirmed Peter’s suspicions that something was off and raised more questions.

“Like you’ve been informed, it’s a supposed art forgery. It was called in earlier today; apparently the piece was pretty valuable.”

“What piece?”

“Crépuscule Rouge, by-“

“Aimeri Bouvier. Quite the painting.” Neal finished for him, expression full of interest.

“So you know it. How easy is it to fake?” Peter asked.

“Not easy, but not impossible. I’d like to check it out.” Neal said. He cleared his throat quietly, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Peter.

“Agent Burke, Caffrey. We’re heading out now.” A female agent informed them, exiting the building.

“Right. Perfect timing. Let’s go” Peter started ahead, pausing and turning back when he realized his partner wasn’t following him.

Neal was turned away, a fist pressed to his nose. “Hih!” Neal gasped, suddenly jerking forward. “Kngt!” He recovered quickly, sniffing sharply and turning around to find Peter staring at him. Nothing was said though, and they exited the bureau.

~~~

“Something isn’t right.” Peter said as they arrived back at the bureau. “The employee who called it in. She seemed odd.”

“How so?” Neal asked, seeming unfocused.

“I’m not sure yet. She could just be worried about her job.”

“True. She did say the painting was supposed to be her responsibility.” Neal sat down at his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How would you do it? I mean, this is your thing, right?”

“The place’s security is full of holes. It doesn’t take a world renowned art thief to figure them out.”

“Oh? Such as…”

Neal flashed him an ID card, twirling it between his fingers. “For one, this card gives you access to any part of the museum. It’s way too easy to lift.”

Peter hide a smile, not wanting Neal to know he was amused by the younger man’s thievery. “You need to give that back.”

“Mmm” Neal murmured, spacing out. His brows scrunched together suddenly, and he stared at something Peter couldn’t place out the window.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Noth-“ Neal’s breath hitched slightly, but he recovered. “Nothing.” He said. But the feeling of needing to sneeze returned, and he turned to his side, stifling a set of sneezes into his elbow.

“H’ngxt! Ng’ztsh! Hih… h’ngksh!”

“Bless you”

Neal said nothing, sniffling.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Peter wanted to question Neal further, but his phone interrupted him. He stood up, seeing that it was Elizabeth. Walking a few steps away, he answered the phone.

“Elizabeth?”

“Peter, hi. Listen, I’m trying out some new recipes at dinner tonight. You’ll be home in time, right?”

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

“You should invite Neal.”

“Neal?”

“Yes, sweetie. I need his opinion. And yours, of course.”

“Of course. Yeah, okay. I’ll invite him.”

“Thank you! I’ll see you both at dinner then.”

Peter shut his phone, ending their conversation. He walked back towards Neal, who looked up at him expectantly.

“Elizabeth wants you to come over for dinner tonight.”

Neal looked briefly annoyed for a moment, but quickly changed his expression to a pleased one. “Sounds good. So when are we going to get out of here? It’s already five.”

“When we don’t have any work to do. Still aren’t used to this life, Caffrey? Most people actually work for a living.”

Neal said nothing, just stared down at his desk blankly. He’d been doing a lot of that today. He coughed quietly into his fist, and cleared his throat. More things he’d been doing a lot of that day.

Peter thought about returning to the case, but they had no leads. There wasn’t really anything worth looking into. So as much as he hated leaving now, after what he said to Neal, there was no reason to stay at the bureau.

“Let’s go.” He said, hovering over Neal’s desk.

“But you said-“

“Work’s done. Let’s get out of here.”

Neal stood up, gripping the desk as the room in front of him swam. He closed his eyes, waiting for the feeling to pass. He’d felt something coming on for the past few days, but it had really hit him this morning. He was late for work, and Peter was suspicious. He probably thought Neal was coming up with some scheme. The room finally straitened itself out, and Neal followed peter out the door. The older man kept shooting him glances, and it was beginning to bother Neal.

He just had to get through dinner with Elizabeth, and then he’d be alone. But the promise of a warm bed seemed far away as Peter led Neal into his car, making towards his house.

Tbc

Oh, and by the way, I totally made up the painting and artist. I don't know enough about art to use a real painting in the story, sorry.

[tma]

Ooooo... this is yummy. I haven't watched the show yet but Neil is YUM!!!! Would love to see more.

[MusicaDiabolos]

This is exciting! I don't know the show at all, but your protagonist has some very nice pictures on Google

[Ciuty80]

hmmmmmmm sounds very good, please more

[ID2006]

YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY ... did I mention YAY!

I love love love it and am so glad you picked this prompt. You got the characters perfectly. And their lines... spot on.

Can't wait for more.

[LeapYearKisses]

Yay, White Collar! Awesome so far. Can't wait for more parts!

[Bongo]

I fricking love this show! And your fanfiction is really, really good.

[27jj]

Ooh, great start so far!! I haven't seen "White Collar" before, but I've seen Matt Bomer in "Chuck" and he is so sexy!! I love that he's all sneezy:)

[obsessed]

I completely got lost, but I thought his sneezes were adorable.

Maybe I should've watched the show first.

[ooo]

I don't know the fandom at all, but I love fics where the character is sick and has to work, YUM. I loved the stifled sneezes in his elbow...

Looking forward to more of this

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

Oh, yum! I've only seen a bit of "White Collar" but enough to know what was going on, and enough to picture the absoulte luciousness that is Neal Caffrey. In other words, enough to be able to say, this story is awesome, and I'm very much looking forward to seeing more.

[swann_ee_song]

Whee!!

I'm so happy someone is writing White Collar fic! And I'm SOOO glad it's about Neal!!

Can. Not. Wait. For more!

[Sitruuna]

I've never watched the series but this is really lovely. (:

[everest]

So, thank you all so much for your replies. To those who don't know the show but are reading anyway, things are probably going to confusing. The downsides of writing fanfiction, sorry. But, if you're confused, don't hesitate to ask me questions, or just Google it. I'd also recommend watching the show, it's awesome.

Also, there are some spoilers in here. I'm thinking this is set early season two. So, basically if you keep reading, you'll know the ending of the first season. Enter at your own risk...

And ickydog2006, I'm so glad you like it! Hopefully I won’t disappoint!

Part two:

Neal sat at the table, counting the minutes. He had been at the Burkes’ for far too long, and Elizabeth hadn’t even served dinner yet.

Peter was saying something to him, but he wasn’t paying attention to what it was. Instead, he was focused on the throbbing in between his eyes. It wouldn’t go away, and to top it all off, Neal’s stomach was feeling a bit queasy.

“Neal!” Peter’s voice jerked him out of his thoughts.

“What?” Neal asked, straitening up in his seat, determined to keep up appearances.

“What is going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah, I do.” Neal snapped. “What, the tracking anklet isn’t enough? Now you need to know what I’m thinking 24-7?” He turned to Elizabeth, forcing his expression into a kinder one. “Listen, Elizabeth, thank you for inviting me to dinner, but I think I’ll be on my way now.” He stood up, but the room swam in front of him. He paused briefly, gaining his bearings, before storming out towards the door.

Elizabeth and Peter exchanged glances.

“Well,” She started. “You aren’t going after him?”

“I-“ Peter started, but Elizabeth shot him a glare. “Fine. Okay. I’m going.” He stood up, leaving the table and walking out into the front of his house.

Neal was gone.

Peter glanced around, seeing nothing. Neal was probably already on his way to June’s. Peter thought about calling him, but he didn’t see what good it could do. Neal wouldn’t come back, not after the scene he’d made.

What had that been all about anyway? Peter didn’t think he’d gone too far; Neal was just overly irritable. It was killing Peter. He wanted to know why. What had Neal so worked up?

Knowing that standing outside would do no good, Agent Burke returned inside to have dinner with his wife.

~~~

Walking in to his place at June’s, Neal felt relief. He had taken it a bit far at the Burkes’, but at least he would be alone now. Opening the door and walking into the room, Neal closed his eyes, sighing.

When he opened them, he saw Mozzie staring at him. So much for being alone.

“Long day at work with the suits?” Mozzie said, not bothering to make his voice sound concerned.

“What is it, Mozzie?”

“Okay, we’ll just skip the pleasantries then. It’s the music box.”

“What about it?” Neal asked, sitting down at the table and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, I can’t find anything. Nothing. It’s like the box has disappeared.”

“So you mean to tell me that you came all the way over here to tell me that you don’t know anything about the music box?”

“Well…”

“Look, Mozzie, I’m not really interested right now. Why don’t you head out?”

“You’re kicking me out.” Mozzie said, a bit surprised

“Don’t act so offended.”

“Oh, I’m not offended. I just want to know why you suddenly don’t care about something you were obsessed with yesterday.” Mozzie was careful not to mention Kate. Whatever had Neal so annoyed needn’t be worsened with thoughts of his dead girlfriend.

“Apparently, there isn’t anything to care about! You don’t know anything, remember?” Neal stood up, leading Mozzie to the door. “Call me when you have something worth telling.”

Mozzie left without another word. Neal walked into his bedroom, exhausted. What had once been a pounding headache had turned into a full out body ache. He collapsed on the soft mattress, not bothering to change his clothes.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, a tickle entered his sinuses. He sat up, sneezing into his hands.

“uh’GSHuh! Ih’GSSHoo!” Neal winced at the slight moisture on his hands. “Ugh” He said, sniffling. Making his way into the bathroom, he scrubbed his hands clean, and located a box of tissues, which he brought into his room.

While he was up, he decided to change out of his suit. It was too nice to sleep in, anyway. He slipped into a pair of silk pajamas, shivering as the air hit his skin. A glance at the clack told him it was only 6:30, but the time didn’t matter. Neal was done for the day.

~~~

Neal’s phone was vibrating. He had set it on the table on the left side of his bed, and the noise it made vibrating on that table made it hard to believe that it was supposed to be set on silent.

At first, Neal ignored it. After a little while, however, he grudgingly swiped the phone off of the table and opened it, pressing it to his ear.

“Hello?” The sound was a croak, causing Neal to wince. He debated sitting up, but it seemed like too much effort.

“Neal? You mind telling me where the hell you are?” It was Peter.

“What time is it?” He muttered, slowly getting hold of the situation.

“Jesus. Neal, are you hung-over or something? If you are-“

“M’not.”

“Well then were the hell are you? You should’ve been at the bureau an hour ago.”

“Shit.” Neal cursed through his hoarse voice. “I… hi’ih…” His breath began hitching. “Hi’nGZSHoo!” He tried to stifle the sneeze, failing miserably. “Peter?” He croaked afterwards, voice now filled with congestion.

There was a pause, and then Neal heard Peter’s voice come through from the other line. “I’m coming over.”

Neal was about to protest when he heard the click, meaning Peter had already hung up. He groaned, sniffling. This was not the way he wanted anyone seeing him.

He had to get up, he had to change. At least make himself somewhat presentable. Unfortunately, all these thoughts ran through his head in a sort of fuzz. Neal was so tired… but he couldn’t sleep. No, he had to get up, he had to…

Neal drifted back asleep, phone still in his hand.

Tbc.

Oh, and if things start getting off-character, I'm sorry. I'm not exactly sure how Neal would handle a cold.

[ID2006]

ah yes, more lovely sick Neal. I am a happy happy girl. Now if only I could stop myself from checking for updates every hour... gah, I'm such an addict

[Sitruuna]

Ah... Update... I like and it's still not confusing even if I know nothing about the series.

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

ah yes, more lovely sick Neal. I am a happy happy girl. Now if only I could stop myself from checking for updates every hour... gah, I'm such an addict

Hey, at least it's your story! I keep checking obsessively, too, and then feeling guilty because I'm getting a "present" without having written one. :/

[everest]

So, thanks for the replies. You totally shouldn't feel guilty for liking this- I wrote it for ickydog2006, but I'd feel like an idiot if nobody else liked it.

I now present to you an overly-sensitive Neal... I hope it doesn't dissapoint.

Part three:

“Neal. Neal.” Someone was shaking him. Neal woke with a start, violently jerking away from the touch.

Peter held up his hands in front of him, surprised at the reaction.

“Peter” Neal said, in the same croaking voice as earlier.

Peter took the conman’s appearance in. His hair was a mess, face pale except for a pink flush on his cheeks and a similar shade of pink around his nostrils. Neal’s normally bright eyes were foggy looking, and he looked exhausted.“Neal. Jesus, you look like shit.”

“Thanks.” He mumbled. He sniffed lightly, pulling himself into a sitting position and wrapping his arms around himself. “How’d you get in?”

“June”

Neal nodded, not surprised.

“She seemed worried, by the way. She said she hadn’t seen you since yesterday morning.”

“She shouldn’t worry.”

“No, I’d say she should. You really do look awful.”

Neal shifted, shivering. “Is that why you came here? To insult me?”

“I came because I was wor-“ Peter stopped himself. “Curious.”

“That’s not what you were going to say.”

“I misspoke.”

“Peter, you were worried about me?” Neal seemed both surprised and pleased at the notion. He laughed a bit, but it quickly turned into a hoarse cough.

Peter spoke again when Neal was done. “Well, I… It’s the forgery. I’m worried you won’t be able to help us like this.”

Neal’s expression turned cold. He started coughing again, failing to control them. He turned away from Peter, embarrassed, still coughing harshly into his sleeve.

Sighing, Peter went to the bathroom to retrieve a glass of water, walking to the other side of the bed in Neal’s room and offering it to him. Neal started to turn away again, but Peter stopped him.

“For god’s sake, Neal. Take it before you suffocate.”

Neal took it, downing half of the glass and finally regaining control over himself. “Sorry. Wouldn’t want to die and leave you to figure out all of your cases on your own.” His voice came out even more croaky sounding then before, and Peter winced.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what you said. Look, just let me take a shower, and I’ll get myself to the bureau. I’ll help you with the forgery case.”

“Neal-“ But he was already standing up from the bed. Peter watched as Neal began to sway slightly, and then suddenly lose his balance completely. Peter quickly stepped in, placing supporting hands on Neal’s shoulders and lowering him to the bed.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Why are you here Peter? So you could take it all in for a good laugh later? So you could go back to the bureau and tell all your buddies how the world renowned art thief Neal Caffrey couldn't even get out of bed this morning?”

“No, Neal. No, okay? I came because I was worried.”

“Worried that I wouldn’t be able to solve your case for you.”

“No. I was worried about YOU. Jesus, Neal. You’re so sensitive.”

“I am not sensitive.” Neal scowled.

“Sure you’re not.” Peter laughed a bit. “Look, we can work this thing from home.”

“Wait, we?”

“Yes, we. You think I’m going to leave you alone?”

Neal was smiling again.

“What?!” Peter asked, somewhat self-conscious.

“Nothing. But I really do need a shower, so…” Neal trailed of, standing up once more, slower this time. He made his way into the bathroom, and Peter made himself at home in Neal’s living room.

The reformed criminal never ceased to surprise him.

~~~

Neal came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, shivering lightly. He got about halfway to his room before pitching forward with a set of sneezes that he tried, with little success, to contain.

“Hi’GXSH’oo! Ah’NGSH’oo! Kn’GXT’shuh!” The shivers that followed were more violent than before, racking through Neal in a way that was nearly painful. He coughed hoarsely, and Peter winced in sympathy from Neal’s living room.

Neal sneezed again while in his room, already sick of the tickling that had entered his nose and refused to leave since his shower. Walking into his small living room, he frowned as he saw Peter look at him with disbelief.

“Whad?” He asked, and Peter laughed at Neal’s voice. It was still the same croaking noise as before, only now it was thick with congestion as well. He’d never heard Neal sound so… not like Neal.

“Sorry,” Peter said, cutting his laughter short as Neal became self-conscious. “You aren’t seriously going to were that all day, are you?”

Neal was in one of his suits, the put-togetherness of his outfit clashing with his flushed, sick-looking face.

“Why dot?” Was Neal’s congested reply.

“Because it can’t be comfortable.” Peter eyed Neal’s slim-fitting tailored suit, imagining how stiff it must feel. “Don’t you have any sweatpants, or something?”

“Sweatpadts? Doe.” Neal looked disgusted at the idea.

“Anything comfortable?”

“Defide cobfertable?”

“Unbelievable. I’m leaving.” Peter stood up, making his way to the door of Neal’s apartment.

Neal opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by his breath hitching. He had his head tilted back lightly, elbow raised and ready for cover. His breathing continued to come out in short gasps, until the feeling just disappeared, leaving Neal with an even itchier nose and watery eyes. He rubbed at his nose angrily for a moment, sniffling, before finally managing to say what he wanted.

“Your leavig because I dohd’t have any sweats?”

Peter, who had just watched the whole scene with a mix of amusement and sympathy, looked surprised at the question.

“No. I’ll be back, Neal. Just stay here.”

“Whad, you thig I’b godda rud?”

It took Peter a moment to decipher the congested-speak. “I don’t know what you’re going to do. You’re you.” And with those last few words, he left Neal alone in the apartment.

Neal felt strangely uneasy. Peter’s presence had been nice, though he wouldn’t admit it. He found himself afraid that Peter wouldn’t come back.

Neal sat on his couch, exhaustion slowly winning over as he drifted to sleep yet again. Peter was the one person that Neal had ever trusted. He’d come back. He had to.

~~~

He woke up, once again, to Peter. He was standing over him, though keeping his distance, apparently having learned from Neal’s reaction last time.

“Here” Peter said, handing something to Neal. The younger man took it, still half asleep, staring at the object in his arms until he finally realized what it was.

“Sweadpadts?”

“Yup. Wouldn’t want you to wrinkle your suit any further.” Peter gestured toward Neal’s crumpled outfit.

“Were-“

“My house. They’re mine. Just wash them before you give them back.”

Neal looked up at Peter with glazed eyes. “Thadks.”

“No problem. Just be warned; Elle knows your sick now. So it’s entirely likely that at some point in the next twenty four hours, she’ll find a way to mother-hen you.”

Neal looked briefly distressed, but then decided he didn’t really care so much anymore. He stood up shakily, falling back onto the couch as Peter pushed him back down.

“Where are you going?”

“I was goig to change in the bathroob.”

“Change here. It’s no big deal.”

“Couhd you… turd aroud, or sobethig?”

“Remember what I was saying about sensitive before?” Neal shot him a glare. “Fine. Sure. Whatever.” Peter turned away, waiting for Neal to change.

He heard an uneasy sigh behind him, and took that to mean he could turn around. His sweatpants, though made to fit loose, were impossibly big on Neal. The waistband hung loosely around his trim waist, even though Neal had pulled the strings in the waistband tight.

The whole look; Neal with his messed up hair, flushed cheeks and pink nose, and tired eyes, thrown in with the sweatpants was both comical and strangely endearing. Peter smiled despite himself.

Suddenly, Neal’s breath was hitching. He had his head tilted back, similar to just before Peter had left. This time, however, the sneezes came.

“Hu’NGZT’shuh! Hi’KNGX’uh! Uh’GZSH’tchuh!” Neal jerked forward, sneezing into his bare elbow.

“Bless. Do you always do that?” Peter couldn’t stop himself from asking the question.

“Do whad?” Neal sniffled, settling himself back onto the couch.

“Sneeze like that. Try and hold it in.”

Neal blushed. “Arouhd other people, yeah.”

Peter sighed. So this was just Neal trying to be the polite. “Well don’t do it around me. It looks painful.” Peter tried to make his voice sound gruff, uncaring, but Neal saw through.

“Sure.” Neal yawned.

“Why don’t you try and get some sleep?”

“But the forgery-“

“It can wait.”

Tbc

[LeapYearKisses]

Awww... I love the way you write them. So cute! My sister also likes this, even though she's not a member of our community, as it were.

[ID2006]

Neal in sweatpants sneezing HOT!!!!!

[Shay]

Don't usually like cold/sick fics, but I do love White Collar, and I'm all the more amused reading this because I just watched an episode of White Collar before reading this!

[tma]

Neil in sweats! hehehehehe... I still have yet to see the show but from clips I've seen that just kills me. This is just Adorable. I can't Believe that I missed the 2nd part till now. Am loving this.

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

Awww!!! I am just adoring this! I love the image of Neal all sick and mussed, still in his three-piece suit...and, I really love the way you've written his sneezes (though, I wonder if that'll change at all, if he listens to Peter...).

[everest]

So, I'm thinking I need to finish this story up. I feel like I'm ruining the purpose of scattered posting dates.

But anyway, I'm glad you all like it!

WARNING: Some mild (very, very mild) mentions of vomiting later in the last few lines of this part. I don't think it will bother anyone, but I said I'd post a warning, and so I am.

That being said, enjoy!

Part four:

Neal was walking towards the plane. He could finally be with Kate; he could hardly believe it. He’d wanted this for so long.

A familiar voice stopped him, and he turned around. It was Peter.

He tried to convince Neal to stay, but Neal had made up his mind. He started walking towards the plane, when something stopped him. He turned back to look at Peter, about to say something, when the sound of the explosion erupted through the air.

The plane erupted into flames, the force of it sending Neal to the ground.

Kate. She was in the plane. He had to get to her; he had to save her…

“Neal! Neal!”

Peter was shaking his partner, trying to wake him. The younger man’s face was covered in sweat; he was jerking around in his sleep, strange, unidentifiable noises escaping from his lips. He was starting to scare Peter.

“NEAL!”

Neal suddenly jerked forward, gasping. “Kate…” He murmured, slowly taking hold of his surroundings.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re home.” Peter found himself saying. His hands were still on his partner’s bare chest, and he realized with a shock how much hotter it felt than it should have.

Neal’s eyes focused on Peter, flinching away from his touch.

“It’s okay.” Peter said again, the words soft. He let himself relax a bit, finally having woken Neal.

“Peter…” The conman’s voice came out sounding as hoarse as ever, the rough sound causing Peter to wince.

“Nightmare?” Peter asked, settling into a chair.

Neal looked troubled for a moment, not responding.

“Do you feel like talking about it?”

The same troubled look followed, and then a strangled sounding, “You should go.”

“Neal, I-”

“I’m fide. Go work the case. You can call me later.” Peter realized Neal's voice wasn't as congested as before. Guess he literally had the snot scared out of him, Peter thought dryly.

“I don’t want to leave you here like this.” Sympathy made itself known in the federal agent’s voice.

“Just go, okay?!” Neal shouted the words, wincing at the way they scraped his throat. “Please” He added softly, desperate to be alone.

Peter hesitated, eyeing the sick man. He sighed. “Alright.” He left the apartment.

Finally alone, Neal rested his hot head in his hands, shivering.

Kate…

~~~

Peter stood outside the door to Neal’s apartment, about an hour after Neal had made him leave. He couldn’t concentrate on his work at the office, and that bothered him. He knew the reason, and after some intense internal battling, he had driven his way back to June’s.

He raised his fist, about to knock, when suddenly Neal opened the door.

He was wearing one of his suits again, and had fixed his hair. It didn’t do much to disguise the general unhealthy look to his face, but it did raise questions for Peter.

“Where are you going?” He asked, just as Neal had said,

“Why are you here?”

“I came here to see you. I can’t just leave you alone like this.” Peter responded first. “And where the hell were you planning on going?”

Neal looked down suddenly. “To see you. I was a bit… rude… earlier, ahd you deeded by help with the forgery.”

Peter nodded, a little pissed that Neal was going to drag himself to the bureau in the state he was in, but deciding to ignore it for now.

“I’m here now. We’ve got no leads, and all we’re doing is waiting for more information. We can wait from here.” Peter walked in without waiting for Neal to invite him, settling back into one of Neal’s chairs.

“There is doe deed to wait for adybore idforbation, you doe.” Neal spoke, his tone heavily congested. “I cad tell you who did it.”

“How…”

“Oh, cobe od.” Neal settled himself onto the couch. “This whole thig is like a poorly writted mystery dovel.”

Peter leaned forward, interested. “Before you say anymore,” He started, “Blow your goddamned nose so I can actually understand you.”

Neal rolled his eyes, complying. It apparently triggered an itch in his nostrils though, because he immediately sneezed harshly into the tissue he was holding.

“Hi’GZSH’uh! Ng’KGXT’shuh! Hu’NGSH’oo!” Shaking his head lightly, Neal snatched a few more tissues from the box in front of him, finishing the job.

“I thought I told you not to do that around me.”

“And when you turn into my father,” Neal glared at him, “Maybe I’ll listen to you. It’s doubtful, though”

“Oh, you’re right. I’m not your father. I’m only the guy who can send you to prison whenever I feel like it.” Peter smirked.

“You’d send me back to prison because I didn’t sneeze the way you wanted me to?”

“I might. But I’ll definitely send you back to prison if you don’t change back into the sweats.”

“And you said Elizabeth would be the one to mother-hen me.” Neal stalked off, maybe a bit more slowly than normal, but otherwise just fine. So annoyance was a cure for dizziness, Peter mused silently, and then remembered Neal at the door. He hadn’t seemed dizzy then, either. Did this mean he was feeling better?

Neal walked back into the room, wearing Peter’s sweatpants once more. “This is ridiculous, you know.” He said, gesturing down towards himself.

“Doesn’t always matter how you look, Neal. Every now and then, we human beings like to take into account how we feel.”

Neal grunted, sitting on his couch once more.

“So who committed the forgery?” Peter asked, after a moment of silence.

“The employee who called it in.”

“Why would she…”

“She called it in to make herself seem less suspicious, and probably to stay close to the FBI and know if they started to pick up her trail. She’s probably not a bad person, just a single mom trying to get more money to support her family, or something.” Neal mumbled the last bit, running his hand through his hair.

Peter raised his eyebrows. “First of all, that’s more ridiculous than you in sweatpants.” Neal scowled. “Second of all, you have no proof.”

“Whatever. Trust me, it’s her. As far as I’m concerned, this case is closed.” Neal leaned back onto the couch cushions, pleased with himself.

“Based on a hunch.” Peter shook his head. “There must be more to this story.”

Neal opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly pressed a fist back over it. Peter started to ask what was wrong, but suddenly Neal burst up from the couch, sprinting for the bathroom.

Peter grimaced. So much for Neal feeling better.

Tbc

[Bongo]

I Love Love Love this! Your Neal protrayel is perfect. Even sick and feeling awful over Kate's death, he has to make things right with Peter. And even though Neal yelled at Peter and made him leave, Peter had to go back to check on him. I love it, because that's exactly what would happen