Chapter Text
It was a boring evening in the van. Clinton had been tasked with guiding Adam, the new probie on the team, on one of his first stakeouts.
Their current target was Dao Quy, a smuggler of rare art. The White Collar team had been tipped that he was going to handle a lucrative shipment in the upcoming days, and had then managed - after shaking up every CI they had - to tap his phone.
Sitting outside his apartment building, the agents took note of everybody who came in and out. It had promised to be an engaging evening, but so far, the only person who'd approached the building was a pizza-boy, who seemed legit enough, and hadn't shown up on any face-recognition scans.
Following that flurry of excitement, the only other development was Adam getting on Clinton's nerves. There was an annoying fly buzzing around the van, and Adam was even more annoyingly trying to catch him with a used paper cup.
Finally the senior agent had had enough. "Adam!"
The agent in question had just brought down the cup on the edge of the console. "What?"
"Can we focus?"
Adam picked up the edge of the cup, and was disappointed to see it was empty. "Yeah," he sighed.
"We're here to catch criminals," Clinton reminded him.
Adam gave him a dour look as he sat back down.
The minutes continued to tick by and Adam started fidgeting again. Finally he broke down. "Can I-?"
"Keep your eyes on the monitor, Probie."
"There's nothing happening out there!" Adam gestured at the video feed. "We've been sitting on him for over a day. What if your tip was wrong?"
It had been Clinton's CI who had brought them the tip.
Adam was saved from Clinton's scathing reply about the virtues of patience when Dao's phone rung. Clinton mumbled under his breath and reached for the headphones.
"Yeah," Dao said.
"You've got it?"
"Caffrey said-"
Clinton bolted upright in his seat, shushing the probie next to him before he could spit out the unasked questions on his lips.
"-the piece tomorrow."
"Good. Make the transfer, and then.. " He made a popping noise. "You know what to do."
"He's a talented kid, Sean. And reliable. Finding another forger with that kind of attention to detail... it's-"
Sean didn't let him finish. "Business is business. Right?"
There was the slightest pause before Quy answered. "Right."
"What about the Feds? Still sitting on your tail?"
"Yes, but don't worry about it, I'll lose them before the meet."
"Good." And with that the call disconnected.
Clinton was already dialing Peter.
"Jones," Peter answered in a whisper, "this better be important." He and El had gone out for a movie, and he was drawing annoyed looks from the audience around him.
Clinton didn't bother replying, and instead played back the call.
There was a long silence on the line when it ended.
Catching Neal Caffrey red-handed. This was the break they've been hoping for. Caffrey had so far managed to slip out of every trap they've tried to set for him. But what if they missed the handoff?
"Peter?" Clinton broke into his thoughts, returning him to the present.
"Yeah. Keep watch on Dao. I'll be in touch soon."
He turned to El, who already had an understanding look in her eyes. "I've got to go, I just-"
She put a finger to his lips. "It's okay."
It wasn't, but there was nothing he could do about it. "Don't wait up."
He gave her a quick kiss, before getting up and making his way through a row of legs. With a deal going down tomorrow morning, he doubted he'd make it home for the next 24 hours.