out_there | White Collar Fic: There's a First Time for Everything

Title: There's a First Time for Everything
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: Neal/Peter/Elizabeth
Warnings: None
Challenges: A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words. This was my prompt.
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Neal swallows and Elizabeth realises he hasn't done this before.
Author's Notes: Thanks to

celli for the last minute beta.

Elizabeth isn't a fan of hospital waiting rooms, but she married an FBI agent; midnight sessions on hard plastic chairs come with the territory. She'd need two hands to count the number of nights she's sat beside Peter, worrying about one of his team and waiting for visiting hours to start.

It's always worse when it's Peter on the hospital bed, but at least she's not alone. Jones is nodding off in the corner and Cruz has gone to find decent coffee, and Neal -- starkly gorgeous under the fluorescent light -- is sauntering back from the nurses' station.

She smiles at him as he gets closer, and he ducks his head, tipping the brim of his hat to her.

"Find out anything new?" Elizabeth asks, even though she knows the drill. She knows they're stuck waiting, and the only thing Neal's likely to charm out of a nurse is her phone number.

"Peter's going to be fine." Neal smiles, wide and honest, and rests his hands in his pockets. His shirt sleeves are neatly folded up but his waistcoat pulls tightly across his shoulders. "He's going to be okay, Elizabeth."

Neal swallows and Elizabeth realises he hasn't done this before. He hasn't done the all-night hospital stays. He doesn't know how many agents get shot and come home healthy enough to be back in the office eight weeks later.

Elizabeth pats the chair beside her. She waits until Neal's sat down -- long legs casually crossed at the ankle, carelessly lounging back in the chair -- before she asks, "Neal, honey?" When he meets her eyes, she says, "He got shot in the shoulder, no organs were hit, no bones were broken. They said the surgery went well."

Neal laces his fingers and ducks his head down. "I used to be better at lying," he says lightly.

Elizabeth smiles and it only feels a little rigid around the edges. "Must be Peter's influence. He always said he couldn't lie to me to save his life."

"Could be."

She gives his hand a quick squeeze. "Peter always takes a while to wake up from anaesthetic."

***

Elizabeth spots the bright red and white striped roof of the stall before she sees the dark outline of Neal's restrained suit. Beside him, in faded jeans and a burnt orange sweatshirt, Peter's rolling his eyes and trying to suppress a smile.

Elizabeth chuckles to herself and hurries her steps.

"If you're well enough to buy food off the street," she hears Neal say as she gets closer, "surely you're healthy enough for active duty."

"You want one or not?" Peter asks, pointing at the corn on the cob on display.

"What I want," Neal says slowly, clearly repeating his argument, "is for you to go back to the office. Or let me go back. At the very least, I want to eat food prepared in an actual kitchen."

"Two, please," Peter orders. Then he looks over his shoulder. He spots her and his eyes crinkle up in a smile that doesn't reach his mouth. It's an expression she knows so well, but it always makes her want to smile back. "Hey, El."

"Get one for me?"

"Of course," Peter says and gets distracted paying for them.

Neal uses the moment to stage-whisper, "It's corn. Cooked on the street. Are you sure you want to eat that, Elizabeth?"

"Definitely," Elizabeth says as Peter passes one to her.

"Don't take it personally," Peter says, then pauses to take a bite. Neal pointedly passes him a napkin when juice drips down Peter's chin. "Neal's cranky because he's bored."

"You got shot, so how come I'm the one not allowed to go back?" Neal's blue eyes widen; he looks like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "I could work with Cruz. We could focus on mortgage fraud. I'd stay in the office all day, I wouldn't even go out for lunch."

"Not happening, Neal. You're in my custody and if I have to spend six weeks of the summer sitting around, guess what?"

"I have to suffer, too?" The complaint might sound genuine, but it's a game. Elizabeth can see that in the twinkle in Neal's eye and the twitch of Peter's mouth. They're having fun.

"This feels a lot like our fourth date," Elizabeth says, and Neal turns to stare at her.

"Tell me he didn't try to romance you with corn on the cob?"

"Actually," Elizabeth says, smiling at the way Peter rolls his eyes at Neal's mock horror, "hot dogs."

"She meant the squabbling," Peter explains. "I took her to a Knicks game and we spent the first half pretending to argue over the better team."

"What happened for the rest of the game?"

"We snuck out for hot dogs," Peter says.

That's skipping the best part so Elizabeth adds, "And then spent an hour making out under a street sign."

"If that's your idea of a good date, Peter, I'm amazed she ever married you." Neal winks at a cute brunette walking past and then he adds, "By those standards, this is a date."

"Sunshine, fresh air, casual food and good conversation," Elizabeth counters. "Who wouldn't be charmed by it?"

"Might work better without a third person in tow."

"I'm married." Peter shrugs, like it's obvious. Like this isn't something they've almost talked to death. "I'm not going to go on a date without my wife."

"No, because you'd be going on a date with your wife. There's an important difference there."

"Wasn't what I said," Peter says and smiles at both of them.

For a moment -- a split-second, no more -- Neal's mouth goes loose with surprise. He covers it quickly but Elizabeth sees it. She hooks a hand around Neal's elbow and holds her corn out towards him. "Sure you don't want to try?" she asks, giving him a chance to change the topic, an easy escape route.

Neal looks slowly from her to Peter. "There's a first time for everything."