Work Text:
Neal patiently waited his turn to board, holding the boarding pass that didn’t have his name in one hand and a small black carry-on duffel in the other.
He was in the clear, having successfully made it through security in Las Vegas and now just waiting to fly. There was always the chance that police or security would stop him at the other end in New York, but that was much less likely than being made while boarding a plane.
The woman scanning boarding passes took his and he gave her a flirtatious smile as the scanner dinged and he walked into the tunnel that connected to the side of the plane.
It was a mostly full flight and the airline had open seating; it was one of the few times he was willing to fly not first-class, solely because there were no layovers. He wanted to go home and sleep in his own bed as soon as possible.
Neal walked down the aisle of the plane and tuned out the noise of the other passengers. He made his way to the back of the plane and shoved his bag in the overhead bin before sitting in an aisle seat with an empty middle seat next to it.
A man sat in the window seat, bent over a large, open book, flipping through the pages at a decent pace.
By the time Neal situated himself and buckled the seatbelt, the pilot was beginning the safety spiel and the window man was respectfully closing his book—finger in the center as a bookmark—to listen.
Neal thought it odd that he would stop what he was doing just to listen to the safety instructions; not many people did.
The forger turned slightly to get a better look at the man and saw him with the light from the window haloing around him. He was breathtaking.
Neal may have been tired and ready to sleep his way through the flight, but that changed the moment he saw the man in the window seat. Neal only had five hours to get to know him; he could sleep when he got back.
Ten minutes later and the plane had lifted off, the gorgeous man looking out the window and watching the ground get further and further away.
Neal leaned over the middle seat. “Can I ask what you’re reading?”
The man looked up at him. “The Brothers Karamazov, in the original Russian.”
“Hmm, I haven’t read that one, is it better in Russian?” Neal questions.
The man blinked at him, as if surprised that he was asking, even though Neal had started the conversation. “I am of the belief that most works of literature are better in their original language. There is always something that is lost in translation.”
Neal nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. “What’s the story about?”
The man quirked a confused smile but proceeded to go on a long-winded explanation of not only the story but it’s significance to literature and the philosophical aspects of the text.
Neal didn’t care much for the subject of the book, but the excitement the man had when sharing was addictive. The man was gesturing with his hands and speaking quickly about the parts that interested him the most. Neal just let himself get lost in the sound of the man’s voice.
“Sorry.” The gorgeous man apologized. “I know I have a tendency to ramble.” He blushed and Neal thought that whoever had ever given him reason to feel embarrassed about that must be inherently evil.
“It was no problem at all, it was quite interesting.” The conman told him sincerely. “I’m Nick Halden.” Neal finally took the chance to introduce himself.
The man blinked, as if he hadn’t realized that they hadn’t exchanged names yet. “Dr. Spencer Reid.”
The two spent the next few hours chatting about anything and everything from plane facts to ancient history to poetry.
It wasn’t until the plane began its descent that Neal and Spencer became quiet for a few minutes, realizing just how long they had been talking to one another. As the plane descended, Spencer returned to watching the ground as they got closer to it; once they touched down, both men returned to the conversation they had decided to put on pause.
“You’re an FBI agent?” Neal clarified, kind of hoping he was wrong. The information had sent a flare of panic through him but he viciously pushed it down.
The man nodded. “Yes. I work to catch serial killers.”
Neal gave him a genuine smile. He didn’t chase white collar criminals. “I’ve consulted with the FBI before, but never for anything like that.” The lie came easily and Neal almost regretted it, but he couldn’t bring himself to after seeing the happy surprise that Spencer sported.
“Yeah? What department did you consult with?”
“The white collar office. Specifically, the New York one. I may still have a business card for the agent I worked with, if you ever need help from white collar.” Neal pulled out his wallet. He did have business cards for Peter that he had stolen from the man’s hotel room in another city once, but he had never had a reason to actually use them yet. “He’s a fantastic agent.”
Spencer took the card and memorized the number on it before slipping it into his messenger bag.
The two spent the last few minutes before they deboarded the plane in comfortable silence.
Spencer’s mind was the furthest thing from silent; he thought about trying to ask Nick out but his words kept failing him. They walked away with a small wave to each other as Neal disappeared into the busy airport. Spencer felt a deep loss at the missed opportunity and his own cowardice.
Spencer needed information and he had a number to call. It might even get him the number of the man he had flirted with a while ago on the plane. He had regretted not getting his number then, but that wasn’t the point of this call; Peter Burke could help him with the profile, and they needed the help.
Spencer lifted the phone to his ear and listened to it ring once before it connected.
“Burke.” A man answered.
“Hello. Is this Special Agent Peter Burke?” Spencer asked to confirm.
“Yes.”
“This is Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid from the BAU. Nick Halden gave me your number and I think you might be able to help with our case. We’re currently trying to track a conman that has turned to murder.” Spencer said quickly.
There was a brief pause before the other man replied. “I believe I can help you. Can you send me the case file?”
“Yeah, I’ll have our tech analyst send it as soon as I can call her.” Spencer promised.
With Peter’s help, the case finished quickly and ended smoothly. Spencer had promised to call the agent back and update him on how it all worked out. He took the chance to thank the older man for his help as well.
“I just wanted say thank you for consulting on the case.” Spencer told the older agent.
“Not a problem at all.” Peter hummed. “About that, what was the name of the person you said gave you my number?”
Spencer furrowed his brows, unsure as to why the question was being asked. “Nick Halden. Why?”
Peter huffed a laugh. “Of course it was.” The statement sounded as if Peter was talking to himself rather than to Spencer. “The thing is, I don’t know a Nick Halden.”
“I’m sorry?” Spencer said in surprise. “He said he had consulted with you before. He had one of your business cards.”
Despite the confusion now surrounding the situation, Spencer could hear the smile in Peter’s voice when he requested, “Humor me for a minute and tell me how you met him and what he looked like.”
Spencer warily complied. “Tall, late twenties, dark hair, blue eyes.” The bluest eyes he had ever seen. “We sat next to each other on a flight from Las Vegas to New York three months ago. I told him I was headed to the city for work with my team and he told me he knew a good agent in white collar there and then gave me your card in case I ever came across a case involving white collar crimes.”
That made Peter let out a disbelieving laugh. “That’s definitely him.”
“Sorry?” Spencer asked, still confused.
“Yeah, yeah, no, sorry.” Peter rushed to explain. “The man you met, Nick Halden—his name is actually Neal Caffrey. He is a white collar criminal and I’ve been chasing him for three years. And I have no idea how he managed to get one of my business cards.”
Spencer opened and closed his mouth a few times, no sound coming out. Peter apparently caught on to the silent astonishment he was experiencing because the white-collar agent said, “Yeah, that’s generally about the reaction.”
Spencer found his voice after another moment. “Does he do things like this often?”
Peter snorted. “You have no idea. Giving my card to another FBI agent is a new one, but he once had champagne delivered to a surveillance van that was staking out the hotel he was staying at. Every year I get both a birthday card and a Christmas card in the mail from him.”
“You like him.” Spencer hadn’t even realized that he profiled the agent he was speaking to, but once the thought was in his head, he was suddenly speaking it.
“Yeah, I do.” Peter admitted. “He’s smart, but one day he’ll make a mistake and I’ll catch him.”
Spencer hummed. “Maybe he already has.”
On the other end of the call, Peter raised his eyebrows. “And what mistake would that be?”
Spencer smirked. “Giving me your number. You’ve helped me with my case, perhaps I can help you with yours.” Spencer wouldn’t admit to the small thought that said catching Neal might be the only way to see the interesting man once again, and he wanted to see the man again.
“Perhaps you can.” Peter agreed.