Title: Tri-Share Dividends
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: G
Characters/pairings: El/Peter/Neal, Jones and Diana
Warnings (including spoilers): None
Wordcount: 3,428 words
Author’s note: Written for the ‘Difficult pregnancy’ square of my
hc_bingo card. Hey, no one said who it was difficult for.
Summary: They don’t care whether Peter or Neal is the father, but it’s difficult when no one knows that it even could be Neal.
[*]
“Hey El!” Peter called from the kitchen. “Anne-Marie wants to know if we’re going to their lake house this weekend.”
Outside on the patio, El mimed slapping her forehead. “I completely forgot about that. Tell her we’d love to!”
Her husband appeared in the doorway, phone receiver pressed into his chest. “Do we really? The lake’s pretty cold this time of year, and I thought we wanted some alone time.” He leaned over her chair and she pecked him obligingly.
“Well if you say it like that…” she smiled mischievously. “What’s the date this weekend?”
“The twenty-third and the twenty-fourth,” Peter remembered.
“I do have a banquet on Saturday,” El said thoughtfully. “I think they’ll need a guiding hand.”
Peter ginned and, with a last kiss for his wife, returned inside. “Really sorry Anne-Marie, El has to stay in the city this weekend…”
El grinned to herself, returning to her magazine. Something was prickling in her memory, though. “Is it already the eighteenth?” she murmured. “That can’t be right…”
[*]
On Saturday night, El came home late from the banquet, but when she opened her front door she was greeted by a wonderful smell and the sound of something being removed from the oven.
“Hello,” she called as she took off her coat, a smile spreading over her face.
Peter stepped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel, and took her bags so she could hang up her coat. “Hello,” he replied in a sultry voice.
“Is that the famous Burke turkey dinner I smell?”
“It certainly is,” he replied, setting her bags on the floor and taking her in his arms. “I’m really glad we’re staying in this weekend, because I’ve got some plans…”
They kissed lightly, savoring, then more deeply.
A throat being cleared from the kitchen interrupted. “I helped cook,” Neal pointed out, watching them with an expectant expression. “Don’t I get some of that?”
El laughed and disengaged from her husband. She stepped into Neal’s arms and gave him the same teasing kiss she’d given Peter. Then she motioned for them to follow her to the dining room. “As nice as this is, I’d really love to have some of that turkey right now,” she sighed. “It’s a good thing we did stay home this weekend, that banquet would’ve been a nightmare if I hadn’t been there.”
“You just sit down and relax,” Peter directed. “Neal and I will get the food.”
El made a whiplash motion, complete with the sound accompaniment.
“She’s got us there,” Neal admitted.
“Yes she does,” Peter said proudly.
El watched them move around the kitchen preparing the plates, stepping easily around each other as though they’d been doing it for much longer than three years. She put a hand on her stomach and smiled.
[*]
When Peter stepped inside the master bedroom and saw his wife sitting on top of the covers, he stood in front of the bed and frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“No honey, nothing’s wrong. Let’s just wait for Neal, alright?”
“Okay.” Peter sat next to El and took her hand. “This isn’t about the dry cleaning again, is it?” he said gruffly, hiding a smile.
El laughed. “No, silly. Besides, Neal gets the dry cleaning nowadays.”
“He does?” Peter frowned.
“He cares about clothes a lot more than you do,” El reminded, poking him in the arm.
“That’s because I have better taste,” Neal commented from the doorway. He looked at them sitting on the bed, not under the covers as he’d expected. “We need to talk?”
El reached out her hand and Neal took it as he sat down. “It’s good news, I promise.” She looked them both in the eye and let the joy and hope she’d had inside for the last few days shine through. “I’m pregnant.”
Peter’s eyes widened and he grinned hugely. “You’re kidding! El, this is…” he leaned in and hugged her. “Ohh, I love you so much!”
Neal looked dumbstruck. “It’s wonderful,” he said quietly. El tugged him into the hug and he wrapped his arms around them both. “I can’t believe this.”
“We talked about me not taking the pill anymore,” El reminded him, concerned at his shocked expression.
“It usually takes longer than a few months to conceive,” Neal murmured. Then he swallowed and took El’s hand. “I’m not unhappy, just… I’m so happy.” Finally a smile appeared, and it lit up his face.
“That is a relief,” El said dryly. “Because this baby could be yours, Neal.”
“It is yours,” Peter corrected. “Whoever’s DNA this kid has, he or she belongs to all of us.”
“I went to the doctor’s office after the first test was positive. I’m a month and a half along,” El told them.
Peter brought their joined hands to rest over El’s pelvis. He smiled at his lovers. “We’ve got a lot of planning to do.”
[*]
Four months in
“Are you sure about this?” El asked, cupping Neal’s cheek gently. “We can wait a few more weeks if you want.”
Neal smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “You’re starting to show. We can’t hide it for much longer.” He reached out and stroked her stomach, which was beginning to bulge more than a little bit of over-indulgence at her events would be able to explain.
“This might be difficult, but remember- we’re in this together,” she said firmly. “The three of us.”
“The four of us,” Neal corrected with a real smile.
El kissed him gently and led them out of the bedroom.
Downstairs, the house was buzzing. It was only a few close family friends, but everyone was friendly and the food they’d set out was going fast. Peter acknowledged their appearance from the dining room and asked Jones to excuse him.
“We’re all ready?” he asked in a low voice once they were together.
“Ready,” Neal answered. Peter clasped him on the shoulder and met his eyes. Neal nodded and went to sit next to an agent he was friendly with on the couch, where he had a perfect view as Peter tapped a metal fork against his beer bottle. Everyone laughed and turned to give the couple their attention.
“Thanks everyone for coming around today,” Peter began. “It’s great to see some of you out of the office, and some of you it’s great to see you at all!” he joked. “But we didn’t just invite you here to try out El’s new hors d’oeuvres.”
“But you should still tell me how you like them!” El interjected.
“We’ve got some very important news to share.” Peter looked around the room with a proud, ridiculous grin on his face. “We’re pregnant!” he and El said at the same time.
Immediately, a cheer swept up around the room and there was a swarm of people moving in to congratulate them. El lost sight of Neal among the crowd of well-wishers and hung onto Peter’s hand tightly.
…
“That was nice,” El said to her husband as she closed the door on the last of the guests. “It’s great that we’ve got so many friends, we won’t have to buy this kid anything! Where’s Neal?”
Peter looked around. “I saw him out back a while ago.” They checked outside, and sure enough, Neal was playing tug-of-war with Satchmo.
“You planning to sleep out there tonight, sweetie?” El called.
Neal looked over his shoulder. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Peter and El met eyes and he went to fetch one of the bottles of wine they kept in the house for Neal. By the time the former con artist came inside, Peter had poured two and a half wine glasses and handed the half-measure to El, eliciting a pout.
Neal sipped his without enjoyment. “I wanted to be the one up there,” he said quietly. “Accepting all the congratulations, everyone saying how lucky I was.”
El leaned against him. “I’m sorry, hun.”
“Six more months,” Peter said firmly. “Then you can move in, and we can tell- at least a few people.”
Neal touched El’s stomach and she rested her hand atop his, linking their fingers. “We can do this,” she whispered, and he smiled for her.
[*]
Five months in
“Donnelson, you call that inspector and tell him I don’t care whose jurisdiction it is, we need that support today,” Peter growled. Agent Donnelson nodded and rushed out of the conference room. Peter turned back to the table. “Jones, have the taps picked up the buyer?”
“Warrant just came in!” Diana interjected, eyes on her laptop.
“Antonin Millstein, Czech investor, just flew up from Miami,” Jones reported.
Peter clapped his hands together. “Excellent. Didn’t Interpol have their eyes on him?”
“Wire fraud, tax evasion and suspicion of arms smuggling,” Neal answered as he put on his winter coat.
“Where are you going?” Jones asked. “We’re about to make a bust!” He waved his arm at the six agents working in conjunction to bring down their money launderer.
“El’s having her first ultrasound today,” Neal answered. He shared a smile with Peter across the table.
“Then why isn’t Peter going?” Diana looked between them in confusion. “Doesn’t the father usually go with?”
“I asked Neal to go, since we’re in the final stretch of a case,” Peter said sharply.
“You don’t have to be here boss, we can handle it,” Jones told him.
“Definitely,” Diana agreed. “You should be there.”
“Are you sure?” Peter checked the document-strewn table, snatching out the main file. “This is a big one.”
“Neal will be here if we need back-up, won’t he?” Diana said, raising an eyebrow at Neal, who was hovering in the doorway.
“But…”
“Peter and El should do this by themselves.” Jones frowned at Neal.
Peter shared a look with Neal, then stepped close to him and spoke quietly. “You can have the next one. We just won’t mention it,” he promised.
Neal nodded slowly, and moved to let Peter out the door. “Get pictures,” he said, and gestured for Peter to go.
With a last concerned look at Neal, Peter said a quick thanks to his agents and left.
“You really should have known better,” Diana said disapprovingly.
“That’s their kid,” Jones backed her up, staring at Neal as though he were confused. “Wouldn’t El want her husband there?”
“It’s not really your business,” Neal bit out. Both of the agents looked surprised at his unusual anger, so he forced himself to calm down. “Don’t we have some criminals to bust?”
[*]
Six months in
“Neal, I need you to tell me the truth,” Peter growled, clearly trying to keep his cool. “Do you know who broke into the director’s house?”
Neal swallowed and didn’t respond. Peter shoved off him, leaving Neal slumped against the wall of his apartment.
“Who was it?” he demanded. “Was it Alex? Mozzie? One of your other friends who you just ‘forgot’ to mention?”
“It’s not what you think, Peter.”
“No? Here’s what I think. I think someone has made the director of the FBI very, very unhappy and the break-in had your name written all over it.”
“It wasn’t me, I swear!” Neal insisted.
“You know something,” Peter countered. “Something you’re not telling me.” Neal just stared at him. “How am I supposed to trust you when you keep hiding things from me?”
“Like you’re not hiding things from me?” Neal retorted. “I know when I’m being watched, Peter. In case you forgot, Mozzie sweeps June’s house for bugs twice a week.”
“You’re consorting with dangerous people, Neal. This will not end well!”
“I can take care of myself.”
Peter looked away. “I need to know we’re on the same side, Neal.”
“You should know that already,” Neal told him.
They stood in silence for a long minute. “Maybe you shouldn’t come home for a while,” Peter said quietly.
“What?” Neal whispered, looking like he’d been punched in the gut.
“It’s too hot right now! People way above my head are watching your every move. And I don’t want those friends of yours following you to El and our son.”
“You can’t keep me away from them.” Neal was shaking his head, face pale and afraid.
“No, I can’t,” Peter admitted. He met Neal’s gaze and held it. “But I can trust you to keep your distance until it’s safe.”
He waited, and when Neal said nothing, he let himself out. When he closed the door, Neal was standing where he’d left him, facing the empty air.
…
“I don’t like this,” El said into her husband’s chest. “We shouldn’t be apart.”
“Neal knows what he’s doing,” Peter replied. He pulled the covers up to El’s shoulders. “How’re you feeling?”
“I’m fine, and don’t change the subject. Neal should be here, Peter, this isn’t fair.”
“I don’t like it either, hun, but there’s nothing I can do about it. He’s made his own choices, and I just have to make sure we all land safely.”
“I miss him,” El said quietly. “The house feels too big now. How did we ever get along with just us?”
“Satchmo takes up a lot of room.” She nudged him in the gut and Peter sighed. “Yeah, I miss him too.”
[*]
Eight months in
Peter handed off his perp to Jones, who led the man out of the wedding hall. He surveyed the room, eyes finally resting on Neal, who looked dashing and sexy in his undercover tuxedo, as he comforted the director’s shaken daughter.
The rest of the room was in shambles, testament to the fistfight and police stand-off that had taken place, but he had to admit it could’ve been so much worse. Beyond a few minor injuries and Agent Thompson’s broken nose, they’d brought in the masterminds of a ring of blackmail, secrets and corruption that had extended up to the deputy director of the FBI.
And it was all thanks to Neal.
The conman in question had left the bride with her fiancé and casually made his way to a discrete corner to speak to a woman in a knee-length, shimmering teal dress. Peter sighed heavily. No doubt Alex would want some sort of favor in addition to full immunity for her help.
He barely stopped himself from moving toward the pair when Alex kissed Neal, but he managed to stop himself when Neal quickly disengaged. He kissed Alex on the cheek, and she disappeared, making Peter blink and look at the nearest exits.
When he looked back at Neal, he was walking through the working agents toward Peter, a smile on his face much more gentle than the usual cheery Neal Caffrey front.
“I should probably thank you,” Peter said once they were together. “I bet I’ll get a raise for this.”
“Ooh, do I get one too?” Neal joked. The banter wasn’t easy to recall, since it had been several weeks since they’d been relaxed around each other, but he tried, and it made Peter smile.
Peter shook his head. “Unlikely. But… you only have three months left on your sentence.”
“Is that significant?” Neal asked warily.
“The director was very grateful to you. Said you saved his daughter’s life.”
Neal titled his head. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far-”
“Neal,” Peter interrupted. “The director is very grateful. The correct response is, ‘yes sir, thank you sir.’”
“I live to serve,” Neal said dryly. “But I’d prefer to hear what you think,” he said more seriously.
Peter took a deep breath. “I think it’s past time for you to come home.” He wanted to say more, but the expression on Neal’s face stilled him.
“I’d really like that.”
[*]
Nine months in
The utility van made a sharp swerve into the hospital and stopped abruptly in the fire lane. The back door popped open and four people spilled out, two running, two following behind at a more sedate pace. Relived of its passengers, the van pulled out at a safer speed to find a parking space.
Inside the hospital, Peter and Neal hit the check-in counter at the same time and Peter flashed his badge. “I’m looking for Elizabeth Burke,” he told the startled nurse. “She’s having a baby!”
“Are you a relative?”
“I’m her husband.”
“Okay, the maternity ward’s this way.” She stepped led Peter, Neal, Jones and Diana to another waiting area and asked them to take a seat while she got El’s doctor.
Thankfully for their collective sanity- Peter was pretending to be calm, but wasn’t fooling anyone- the doctor came quickly.
“Family of Elizabeth Burke?” he asked.
Peter and Neal both stood up. “That’s us,” Peter answered. “How is she?”
“It’s going very well, Mr. Burke, is it?”
“That’s me. How far along is she? Is she in pain?”
“Peter, chill out,” Neal told him. “El’s probably got them all under her spell already all bringing her drinks and peanut butter toast.”
The reference to his wife’s favorite request made Peter smile. “You’re right. I’m calm, I’m relaxed.” He said to himself.
The doctor looked amused. “And who are you?” he asked Neal.
“Close friend.” Neal gave him a charming smile. “They need me to work my magic and keep Peter from passing out.”
“Well, we can only let immediate relatives into the birthing area, so I’m afraid you’ll have to work your magic from out here.”
“Doctor Smith,” Peter read from a nametag on the man’s scrubs, “if you don’t want my wife to tear this hospital down around your ears, you’re going to have to relax the rules for today.”
Doctor Smith was shaking his head, but he was interrupted before he could protest. “He’s not kidding,” Diana interjected. “Have you met Mrs. Burke yet?”
“I’m an armed FBI agent, and I wouldn’t cross that woman,” Jones said seriously.
Doctor Smith looked between the four of them and gave in. “Alright then, just let me grab some paperwork for you.” He held up a finger to say ‘one minute’ and disappeared through the ward doors.
“Thanks for that,” Neal said to Jones and Diana. “I thought you’d want Peter and El to be alone.”
The agents shared a conspiratorial look, then faced Peter and Neal. “We don’t know what’s going on just yet,” Jones began.
“But we’re on your side,” Diana finished.
“Thanks, guys,” Peter said sincerely. “Oh- and that’s our cue!” Doctor Smith was waving them into the maternity ward. Jones and Diana called good luck as they stepped into the breach.
[*]
Ten months in
Neal handed in the last of the paperwork to HR and leaned against the front desk, letting out a long breath. From behind him, there was a cooing noise and a slow clapping. Neal turned around and smiled.
El, Peter and baby Donovan were waiting for him in the hallway. He closed the door to HR behind him and accepted Peter’s embrace. “You know you didn’t have to come in just for this,” he told them, still grinning.
“The day Neal Caffrey joins the Bureau as a legitimate consultant? Nothing could keep us away.” Peter squeezed Neal’s shoulders. “We know how big a deal it is for you to be putting down roots.”
“Hey, how could I not?” Neal reached out and took Donovan from El’s arms, bouncing slightly and earning a gurgle. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured to the boy.
“And now that you and Peter aren’t electronically bound anymore, we thought we could do something to celebrate.” El grinned and held up a pamphlet for Neal to read.
“Commitment ceremony?” he read aloud, then looked at his lovers. “What are you saying?”
“They’re a carry-over from when gay marriage wasn’t legal in DC,” Peter explained. “But people still use them if they don’t want to get legally married.”
“Or, in this case, can’t,” El said significantly.
“Are you two asking me to marry you?” Neal asked in a hushed voice.
“That’s exactly what we’re doing, hun,” El answered sweetly.
Neal swallowed, then looked down at the little boy in his arms. “One big happy family, huh?”
“Jones and Diana are just dying to find out what’s up,” Peter teased. “Imagine what they’ll look like when we invite them!”
“He hasn’t even said yes yet!” El made a shushing gesture at her husband.
“He will,” Peter said certainly.
Neal met his eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t see a ring anywhere, or anyone on bended knee.”
“Wait til we get home,” Peter told him. “El’s set up a little something.”
“You’ll love it,” El promised.
Neal smiled. “I already do.”
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