Work Text:
Title: Honey Trap
Author/pseudonym: Ursula
Fandom: White Collar and X-Files
Pairing: Peter Burke and Neal Caffrey (Mention of Mulder/Krycek)
Rating: NC-17 or Adult Slash
Status: Complete
Archive: Anywhere, as a complete story. If you have a constructive critique and wish to use a portion, contact me directly.
E-mail address for feedback: [email protected] or [email protected]
Series/Sequel: Is this story part of a series: Stand Alone
Disclaimers: Not our characters. No money made.
Warnings: Slash although not expressed, bad words
Time Frame: Early in the first season for White Collar and AU for X Files
Notes: Had the Sting running through my head so used the titles from the movie as separators. I bet Neal loves The Sting, an old movie starring Robert Redford and Paul Newman as master con men.
Honey Trap
OooOooO The Set Up OooOooO
Peter Burke woke from a disconcerting dream to the blare of his phone.
Elizabeth sighed and said, "I might sleep in the guest bedroom tomorrow." She looked rumpled and tired.
Apology in his eyes, Peter growled his name into the receiver after fumbling for the talk button.
"He's out of range," Diane's voice said.
"Damn," Peter said, already out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
Peter's first stop was at June's. To his surprise, June met him at the door, fully dressed and looking worried. She said, "Peter, someone took him."
"Took who?" Peter asked, afraid that Neal had flipped out and kidnapped someone. Although that was hard to imagine…Neal Caffrey was as non violent an offender as Peter could hope to find.
"They took dear Neal! Whatever do you think I was telling you? Of course, you must rescue him and rescue him immediately."
Despite June's statement, Peter was not persuaded. Not at first. However, the sight of the beloved hat crumpled amidst a tangle of bedding was the ultimate and terrifying clue. He waved in the crime scene personnel who had arrived behind him.
As Peter directed lesser agents to collect all and any evidence, his phone rang.
A husky voice said, "I have him. Do you want him back?"
"How did you get my number? Who are you?"
"I could be your friend," the man said. "I could give you back what you want. Do you want him? Do you want Neal?"
"Yeah, I want him. I want Neal."
Peter caught eyes turning toward him, brows lifting. He fought the urge to hang up. The longer the man stayed on. He pointed at his cell phone, mouthing 'Trace!"
"Put him on. I need to hear him. If you've hurt him…"
"Why would I hurt him? I can think of better things to do with him. Can't you?"
The problem being that he could. The problem being that it was difficult to stop thinking of those things.
"Keep your hands off him," Peter said. And people were really staring now.
The man laughed, an evil laugh if Peter had ever heard one. Like a delighted demonic child.
"That would leave so many possibilities, wouldn't it?" The voice replied.
"Let me talk to him."
To Peter's surprise, his wish was granted. Neal sounded scared and it went right to Peter's gut. He should have known better. For all of Neal's criminal record, he wasn't a tough guy. He was strangely innocent, so ready to regard Peter's world as a playground in which to play his games. Peter was a fool for bringing Neal into his world, where other criminals were much more inclined to shoot instead of con. "Peter, he took me."
"Are you okay?"
The man's voice said something in the background, a threat spoken in a silken voice.
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Be cooperative," Peter instructed. "I'll get you back. I promise."
"He took my tracer off," Neal said.
"I know, it's right here," Peter said as someone handed him an evidence bag with the device.
"Never thought I would want it back," Neal said, voice shaking.
There was the sound of a mild struggle and then the man was back on the line. He said, "He's alive, unhurt for now. You need to think about what you would give to keep him like that. Good bye, Mr. Burke."
Silence. Except for the accelerated beat of Peter's heart.
The trace on the call led nowhere.
"The guy has resources," the tech told Peter back at headquarters. "The call was bounced off so many networks that we'll never be able to figure out his location. He's a real pro."
OooOooO The Hook OooOooO
For a real pro, Neal's abductor made a curious mistake. His finger prints were on the tracer. The lab tech told Peter, "This guy is playing games. He knew how to get the anklet off without triggering, but reset it so it sent us a violation an hour after he took it off. I almost admire the guy."
"I don't admire him, but I can't wait to meet him" Peter said.
The fingerprints got a hit, not off the crime data base, but from the FBI employment files. The man behind the husky voice was former Agent Alex Krycek. He was a rookie agent who disappeared a few months after he was assigned to Washington DC. The agent who had been working with him had suspicions, but none seemed to have played out. Peter would have questioned Agent Mulder, but he also had disappeared.
Shortly after Peter made attempts to track down more data on either Krycek or Mulder, the AD paid him a visit and told him that he was not to pursue that lead.
"Are you sure that Mr. Caffrey did not arrange his own abduction? He does have a history of pulling off spectacular cons for no real financial motivation. He seems to enjoy having you chase him."
The way the AD said it made it sound dirty. The look in his eyes said more.
Despite what Peter had said to Neal about FBI policy on gay and lesbian agents, it wasn't true. Sure, you could come out, but your career would never move far. It was easier to hide your orientation. In Peter's case, despite youthful indiscretions, it was easier to go het than bi. He might look, imagine, but he had not indulged since the wild days of college. Neal tempted him as he had not been tempted since he was too young to control his impulses. He thought he had hid that, but the AD was shrewd. He didn't achieve his rank without being able to read people nor was he promoted because he played nice. His footprints were all over the backs of subordinates who underestimated the man behind the starched shirt. Peter knew better than to assume his AD did not observe the fledging attraction growing. He also knew that the AD would wait and see how he would use the situation. If it benefited him, fine. If not…. Peter should worry.
OooOooO The Tale OooOooO
"People don't just disappear," Peter said to Mozzie. "Not while they are still alive, anyway."
"Not without some help," Mozzie agreed. "Whoever wiped the record on your Agent Krycek was a master."
"He's not my Agent Krycek," Peter growled.
Mozzie wiped his glasses on his shirt and went back to tapping gently on the keyboard of his lap top. "I've called in some favors. Neal's a good kid. I owe him."
"You're not supposed to know about me," Mozzie lectured.
"I'm good," Peter said. "I'm the one that caught Neal twice."
"Second one doesn't count," Mozzie corrected. "He let you. He wanted it."
"Why?" Peter asked.
"Because you were worthy," Mozzie said. "And because Neal gets his vibes going so strong that he just acts on them. He wouldn't just let just anyone collar him."
The way Mozzie smirked after saying collar made Peter cringe. He didn't indulge, but he knew about collars and toys. "Get me something. I don't know what happened to Krycek to change him from a promising young agent, but the man is dangerous now. He sounded crazy."
Peter felt the cell phone vibrate before he heard the ring tone. He winced as he heard the theme song from "The Sting.". Neal loved to steal his phone and reprogram it. Peter had been too busy to change it back. Now he didn't want to. If Neal wanted him to announce himself with "The Entertainer", Peter could endure it if he could just get Neal back. He had to get Neal back.
"I'm still waiting for you, Agent Burke," the hated voice said. "I do get bored. Neal said you were so much fun to play with. I'm disappointed."
"Why don't you give me a hint?" Peter said. "That's how the game is played."
"And here I thought you were impressive. I've followed my dear Neal's career with interest. He was useful to me at times for those artistic skills and he is nice to look at. Don't you agree, Peter? But I am getting bored and I might find something to entertain myself. Pretty, pretty Neal."
"You had better not touch him!" Peter shouted.
"Too late for that," Krycek said.
The phone went dead and Peter fought the urge to throw it.
Mozzie said, "I got something, Agent Burke. Here…"
It was a grainy picture of an older version of the greenhorn agent. He appeared to be glancing over his shoulder as he entered a dilapidated building.
"How did you get this?"
"A hacker friend sent it when I said I was looking for Krycek," Mozzie said. "Frohike is the best."
"Thought he was dead," Peter said. "His file was closed on that assumption."
Frohike and his known associates, Byers and Langly were suspects in high tech crimes. They were never convicted, but remained under investigation until their death in a suspicious accident. Apparently, that was their ultimate con.
"Neal know these guys?" Peter asked.
"They let him crash on their couch for a while when he was a kid. Ran away from a rough situation and the gunmen were always soft on kids."
Peter perked up his ears. He had researched Neal Caffrey down to what brand of toothpaste he used, but there were some blank spaces in his life. This sounded like a pretty big chunk of the puzzle.
Shaking his head, Mozzie said, "Don't ask. He'll tell you if he wants to."
"I have to get him back first. I need that address."
"Let me im Frohike and see if he can get it."
Peter stood and stewed as he waited. Mozzie had refused to meet him anyplace other than at Neal's. He wasn't going to give anything more away than he had to do to help his friend. Mozzie was set up at Neal's desk, shoving aside a sketch pad, a pile of fashion magazines, and the Wall Street Journal to make room for his lap top.
"Got it," Mozzie said. "Frohike's kung fu is still the best."
"Other than mine," Mozzie added protectively.
Mozzie wrote down the address and Peter was running with it, reading it as he went.
OooOooO The Wire OooOooO
When Peter tried to call for backup, he found his phone was jammed. He should have stopped, requisitioned a phone from someone in route. His professional instincts were shot. All he could think about was Neal's blue eyes, his frightened blue eyes.
The address led to a boarded up apartment house. It did not appear habitable and the first floor was a mess of sagging open doors, debris, and needle strewn rotting mattresses. Peter had to step around chunks of fallen plaster and miscellaneous debris to go up a flight. He saw light coming from beneath a door.
Bingo.
Now what?
Peter tried his cell hone again. It was dead. Damn.
The front door was a temptation. Peter could imagine himself bursting through the door, gun blazing, putting a hold right in the middle of Alex Krycek's forehead, and scooping Neal into his arms protectively.
As happy as that thought made him, Peter thought it more likely that he would be shot. Neal would be shot. That could not happen. It was his job to protect Neal. Neal was his.
There was a way, not a fun way. Peter checked several open doors and saw each apartment was designed in the same way. Small living room, dining area and kitchenette. Bathroom and closet down a small hallway which led to the bedroom. All of the bedrooms faced the same way and each had a window that opened to the ledge which ran along the building. Peter could crawl along the ledge toward the bedroom where he hoped he would find Neal, unharmed and alone.
Good plan. Except that Neal was not alone.
Neal was naked, spread eagled on the bed, his wrists and ankles secured by black cloth that looked like silk scarves. His eyes were saucers and he looked on the edge of tears. Krycek sat on the bed, tracing Neal's body with the muzzle of his gun.
Krycek looked a little worn, but fit. His eyes were as pretty as Neal's but green and surrounded by incredible lashes. He looked incapable of evil, but Peter knew that could not be true.
Clinging to that ledge, Peter prayed that Krycek would leave the room, but the man seemed deaf to angel's whispers. No wonder.
The way Krycek leaned over Neal, looking at him, the gun tracing circles on skin that cried for a lover's touch instead of cold steel. Peter felt the rage grow. He couldn't wait. Especially not when Krycek seemed about to take Neal's lips, ravage what was Peter's. Neal just didn't know it yet.
Shielding his arm with his jacket, Peter broke the glass, leaping through, his gun aimed at Krycek.
The next moments were chaotic. Peter fired and missed. Krycek fired wildly. Peter aimed and somehow he was tackled, his gun flying across the room, under the bed.
Then Krycek had an arm around his neck, surprisingly strong. "You never knew what you have until someone takes it. Think about that, Agent Burke. Think about it."
A shove and Peter found himself sprawling across Neal's naked body, his cock getting ideas despite the extremity of the situation. When he scrambled up, Krycek was gone. A quick search of the building showed no trace.
Peter's cell phone worked again and he called belatedly for back up. He grimaced in anticipation of the tongue lashing by his irate AD, but it was worth it to see Neal's trusting eyes gazing at him with gratitude.
"I knew you would come," Neal said, as Peter untied the silk scarves that bound him.
"Did he hurt you?" Peter asked as he helped Neal sit up.
"I'm okay," Neal said.
"I mean did he hurt you?" Peter said, his eyes sweeping to Neal's groin.
"He touched me," Neal said, "Threatened me. You got here in time."
"I'll kill him," Peter vowed. "He won't come near you again. Come on, let's get you dressed."
Although, honestly, an undressed Neal was a lovely sight that Peter could have enjoyed at length; Peter had called for backup and he didn't want to share that slim, toned body with the world. He drew every inch into his memory and put it away, knowing he would be seeing Neal this way in his head and wanting him.
Peter knowing himself also knew he would go from wanting to having.. Thank God Elizabeth knew about his past. Had given him permission if he ever found someone he needed enough to take the risk. As long as he told her first and Peter suspected that Elizabeth was just waiting for him to tell her what she already knew. Darling Elizabeth.
Neal's socks were on and he dangled a shoe in one hand.
"Wait a minute," Peter said. "I have something for you."
Neal smiled that wide, childish smile that so delighted Peter but the smile dimmed when he saw the tracer.
"I could have found you if he left this on," Peter said. He drew Neal's foot into his lap, pulled up the sock, and smoothed it at unnecessary length.
Neal shuddered and Peter was seriously tempted to let his hand travel upwards. He knew his touch would have been welcomed. Still there were those pesky backup agents.
Peter did not want to do this in front of prying eyes. He took the band from the evidence bag and fitted it around Neal's ankle. Neal took a deep breath, letting himself be captured one more time.
"When you think about this," Peter said, "I want you to think about me. That I came after you and I will always come after you. You understand that, don't you?"
Those beautiful blue eyes gazing into his own. Neal nodded.
Peter tugged Neal's pant leg down over the band, making it their secret, a link between them.
Neal exhaled, his hand covering Peter's for one brief moment.
If anything more would have happened, agents bursting into the room prevented it.
A perimeter check found nothing. An all points bulletin caught no hint of Krycek's whereabouts. The man might as while be a ghost for all the evidence of his passing.
OooOooO The Shut out OooOooO
"Neal's had a rough day," Peter said. "I'm going to take him home and tuck him into bed."
Which was probably taken not as literally as Peter intended.
A short time later, they were back at June's. June fussed and ordered Neal warm milk which he drank as smugly as a stray cat mistaken for a pampered show champion.
After June felt Neal could survive on his own, Neal undressed, folding his clothing neatly as he removed it. It was a slow strip tease and Peter relished it.
"I need to take a shower."
That made Peter startle from his lustful daze. Poor Neal. He needed to wash the violation of his captivity from his body.
"Will you stay with me a while?' Neal said, framed by the doorway to his bathroom.
"Yeah," Peter said. He would explain to Elizabeth while Neal was in the shower. "Don't worry. I'll be here."
The hat was sitting on Neal's bed table, somehow as good as new. Neal would be pleased by that. He loved that hat.
Peter twirled the hat on his finger, smiling at it and thinking of Neal.
Funny thing about Krycek. He never did say what he wanted. It was as if he took Neal just to show Peter what he had to lose.
You had to thank the guy for that, but he was a dead man if he ever came near Neal again.
OooOooO The Tell OooOooO
Under the cover of the running shower, Neal hit Alex's speed dial.
"You get out okay?"
The small huff of air out of Alex's little nose replied eloquently.
"The day I can't outrun the average Joe FBI agent, is the day I lose my left arm….again."
"Thanks, Alex. I think he gets it now."
"FBI partners can be very dense," Alex agreed. His voice was tender as he asked, "Is it worth it, baby?"
"You know it," Neal said. "Maybe someday Mulder will get it too."
"You are such a dreamer, Neal, that's what I like about you."
Alex sighed. "You take care of yourself. These good guys can get you killed."
"Don't worry. Peter will take care of me. You take care of yourself, Alex."
"Always do."
Neal stepped into the shower, relishing the warm spray of the custom head. It felt good.
Smiling, Neal acknowledged that Peter's hands would feel better.
Peter was a smart guy, but sometimes he didn't know what he wanted. Neal didn't have that problem or any moral qualms about doing whatever it took to make them both happy.
It helped to have friends in low places.
Too bad he couldn't return the favor and deliver one Fox Mulder to the man who loved him as much as Neal loved Peter.
One thing at a time.
Neal smiled at the band on his ankle, remembering Peter putting it on.
A guy could grow to like the thing.
A Beginning.