White Collar - This will be all over the office on Monday - Neal, Peter - Gen, PG

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    • White Collar - This will be all over the office on Monday - Neal, Peter - Gen, PG

      Pairing/characters: Neal, Peter
      Genre: gen
      Rating: PG
      Word count: 342
      Warnings: none
      Spoilers: none
      Disclaimers: Just borrowed. Borrowed with love.
      Summary: LJ comment_fic prompt by ammcj062 - White Collar, Neal + any, "Well, if you look at it that way I guess it counts as theft..." [and feel free to replace theft with any other criminal action :)]

      "Well, if you look at it that way I guess it counts as theft... But you see, we needed a break with this case and I just KNEW that Huston guy was guilty as sin. And the Filofax was just lying there, in plain sight. And see, it’s right here: June 7th, 9 a.m. Patricia Monahan, Pastis. We can nail this fucker now!"

      The pause that followed was louder than words and he was sure it was filled with reproof. He went on, stumbling over the words in his haste to find a way to explain himself, to prove that he hadn’t had a choice.

      Okay, truth be told, he had hoped he’d get away with it without anyone noticing, had hoped he could’ve just… sold whatever he would find as a lucky guess. Or maybe an anonymous tip? Something, anything, but not getting caught. Of course, he SHOULD have known the other man’s sharp eyes never missed a thing.

      Five minutes of going in circles about lifting Huston’s Filo from the expensive, tasteless mahogany desk and he suddenly noticed the way the other man’s face was twitching in an effort to keep it straight and stern.

      “What? Come on, just spit it out, you,” he hissed, outrage mingling with worry.

      “Peter, it’s just…” Neal collapses in helpless laughter, “if it had been me, okay, but YOU? Stealing?”

      The look on Burke’s face is simply priceless, like a puppy dog that had been caught stealing the Sunday roast.
      And he had been so caught up in his apologia de vita sua that he hadn’t even realized that Neal had taken pictures with his cell.
      Diana and Jones would have a field day with this, Neal was sure. And he himself would be milking it for what it was worth. His life would be filled with trips outside his radius, oh yes it would be!

      Neal turned on his heels and strode off towards the office, waving jauntily at Peter with his cell in his hand.
      And Peter knew he was screwed.