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“I was hoping I’d get a fellow newer agent,” Andra was saying as she and Lauren walked down the street together, each holding a cup of hot cocoa in their gloved hands. “But naturally I had to get one of the most experienced agents in the Organized Crime division. He’s super serious and I’ve never seen him smile. How am I supposed to know what he wants from his Secret Santa?”
“Ouch, that’s rough,” Lauren agreed. “I mean, I know most people in my division pretty well, but somehow I also got someone completely impossible to shop for in our Secret Santa.”
“At least it doesn’t matter too much if you disappoint, since you’re transferring divisions soon anyway,” Andra said. “Who did you get?”
“Neal Caffrey,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What are you even supposed to buy a guy who's stolen pretty much everything he owns?”
“You… huh? You got Neal Caffrey?”
“I know, right?” Lauren shook her head and took a sip of her hot chocolate. “Like, on my list of ‘things he’s interested in having’ I have: famous paintings, ridiculously expensive suits, ridiculously expensive wines, tools for counterfeiting… you know. Stuff I’m not getting him.”
“Neal Caffrey. Like the confidential informant,” Andra checked.
“Yeah, him,” Lauren confirmed. “How the hell do you shop for someone who’s forged billions of dollars worth of art and antiquities with a twenty-five dollar limit?”
“What was Neal Caffrey even doing in the exchange?” Andra said bitingly, raising an eyebrow. “Did he put his name in the hat without permission, or something?”
Andra looked like she was expecting Lauren to have some kind of obvious revelation right about now, but she wasn’t sure what it was. “Uh, no, we all put our names into the hat at the same time,” Lauren said slowly. “It wasn’t really a ‘permission’ thing. It’s an exchange for the whole team. Anyone who wanted to participate could. Although I’m pretty sure Agent Burke actually had to talk Caffrey into putting his name in—he was kind of resisting at first.”
“Or, more likely, Caffrey convinced Burke to convince him. Subtly. Because he’s a con man,” Andra said.
Lauren still had no idea what she was implying. “The hell are you going on about? Why would he have to con his way into the exchange?”
“Um, because he’s a criminal informant being included in the exchange for agents.”
Huh?
“It’s not for agents,” Lauren said. “It’s for the team.”
“Right. And he’s not a part of the team. He’s just an informant.”
Oh, right. Andra didn’t work in their division and was unfamiliar with how much work Caffrey did. “He doesn’t just bring us information and then sit around the office all day, if that’s what you’re picturing,” Lauren explained. “He actually has a desk and does as much paperwork as he’s legally allowed to do—though he does have a thing for conning the probies into doing it for him.” She rolled her eyes semi-fondly. “He does a lot of field work. More than some of our agents. With the amount of times he’s put his life on the line and taken risks for our operations, he definitely is a real part of the team, agent or not.”
Andra gave her a concerned look. “Why are you defending him? I thought you didn’t like him.”
“We’re frenemies,” Lauren said. “He drives me a little crazy. And I wasn’t defending him. Didn’t think there was anything to defend him from. I’m just explaining why he’s a part of the team.”
“Oh my God, he’s conned you too.”
“What?!”
“Do you actually think a criminal would ‘put his life on the line’ and ‘take risks’ for your operations? Do you actually think he’d be that selfless?”
“I wouldn’t have pinned it on him at first, but yeah, he totally does,” Lauren said. “What are you…?”
“He doesn’t do that kind of work because he wants to, he does it because he has to. You might not be the one making those decisions, but someone is. He’s more expendable than an agent, obviously, so they send—”
“Hello?” Not only had Lauren officially lost Andra’s train of thought, but with the word “expendable,” she’d officially gone off the tracks. “I promise you that Peter Burke is never intentionally putting Neal’s life on the line. He wishes Neal would take less risks, actually. Thinks he’s going to get himself killed one of these days—and he probably has a point.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The dynamics in my division,” Lauren said. “What are you talking about? This started with me saying I had him for Secret Santa, and then you started talking about how he must have run a con to get into the exchange that’s for the team he is a part of and somewhere along the way decided he only ever takes risk because he’s forced to because he’s ‘expendable?’ How did we get here?”
“We got here because you and your friends at White Collar have clearly not been very smart about the fact that you have an internationally infamous confidence man in your office,” Andra stressed.
“Oh, we’re aware of it,” Lauren corrected. “It comes up, like, daily. Also, he’s sort of crazy in the field. Really fun to watch, if a bit nerve-wrecking. Like, I want to hate how crafty he is, but damn. It comes in handy sometimes.”
“You’re concerning me, Lauren.”
Lauren waved her hand dismissively. “You just don’t understand.” And after all, how could she? Lauren herself would probably make similar conjectures about Neal if she didn’t work with him so frequently. Sure, he was a con man, and he was definitely selfish and disreputable and manipulative and all sorts of things, but he was at least a little more than that, which was becoming abundantly clear. She still wasn’t sure what to do with that information, but luckily, it wasn’t her job to handle it. “Just don’t call any members of my team expendable again, okay? That’s a hard line.”
“Ooookay,” Andra said slowly, drawing out the word in a way that made it abundantly clear she wasn’t sure she agreed. Well, that was fine. She didn’t have to understand—she just had to not call anyone who had risked their life for her “expendable” to her face ever again.
When the silence that followed got long enough to become uncomfortable, Lauren asked, “So what are you going to buy for your Secret Santa?”
“At least I know I don’t have to break into a museum to properly shop for him.”
That comment would have been a lot funnier before Andra had revealed just how little she thought of someone Lauren was tentatively beginning to consider a friend.
—
Six different variations on “funny socks” or “fuzzy socks” or “Christmas socks” had already been included in gifts by the time they got around to Lauren, but that was just as well. In fact, the fact that socks were an overdone and typically impersonal Secret Santa gift just made hers better.
The person to go before her was Neal, who proudly declared, “My gift is for Peter.”
(Multiple variations on “you cheated!” and “no way” sounded throughout the room, but of course, he would remain innocent until proven guilty, which would be never.)
Peter unwrapped what was a relatively nice looking tie. “I’m surprised this isn’t silly and Christmas-themed,” he remarked.
Neal shrugged. “Almost all your current ties fall in the ‘silly’ category.”
Peter glared at him playfully. Neal shrugged again innocently. “At least tell me it was actually less than twenty-five dollars, as per the rules.”
“The fact that you can’t tell that by holding it concerns me.”
“Was it?”
“I did not pay more than twenty-five dollars for it.”
“Did you pay for it?”
“It’s Lauren’s turn,” Neal said, and whether he was being ambiguous for shits and giggles or actually stole Peter’s Secret Santa gift would forever remain a mystery. Maybe it said something about the way Lauren’s perception of him had changed over the time she’d known him, but for some reason, she was actually more inclined to believe the former.
Maybe she was as naive as Andra believed, or maybe there was more to Neal than people who didn’t spend enough time around him to start barely understanding him realized.
(Though she fully believed he somehow cheated his way into getting Peter for the exchange.)
“My gift is actually for Neal,” Lauren said, turning and handing the small gift bag to him. He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise as he accepted the present. “And I did not cheat to get your name.”
“What a strange thing to clarify,” Neal said as he began to take out the tissue paper. He pulled out the box inside, inspecting it, and then laughing when he realized what it was. “Famous art socks?” He looked closely at the different patterns. “Okay, looks like I’ve got… Mona Lisa socks… Starry Night socks… The Scream socks—hey, I’m friends with that one.”
“Care to elaborate on that?” Lauren asked with a smirk.
“I just mean I like it,” Neal said guilelessly.
Peter sighed heavily in the background. Neal continued to inspect his new socks. “The Last Supper socks… gotta love how they all sit on one side of the table… Girl with a Pearl Earring socks! I’m also friends with that one.”
“Seriously?” Peter interjected.
“Am I not allowed to have favorite paintings?”
“I thought you’d appreciate keeping these… hm… friends around with you at the office.”
“You know, it’s kinda funny,” Neal said, his eyes twinkling as he flipped his gift over appreciatively again. “Someone stitches a likeness of all these famous paintings into socks, and they can sell it and everything’s fine. But I make a perfect-to-the-brushstroke painting on the same type of canvas with the right kind of paints, and try to sell that—”
“Allegedly, right?” Peter reminded him tiredly.
“Hypothetically,” Neal corrected. “I never said I’d actually done it.”
Yeah, no one in the office was in danger of forgetting who Neal was or what he did. That was where Andra was most definitely wrong. Reality was, when you spent more time around someone, you began to adjust to their way of being. And no matter how good of a liar someone is, if you spend enough time with them, you’ll start to see glimpses into who they truly are.
Lauren didn’t pretend to understand Neal Caffrey. But she knew one day he’d probably save Peter’s life while wearing a pair of Mona Lisa socks she bought for him in a gift exchange before she transferred divisions, and it was a thought that made her smile contentedly as the gift exchange continued on.