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This was written for a challenge over at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
usaland The vote was over on the 21st, so I think that I can post it here, even if we didn't get the results yet. It's the first/only "Five Times" fic I've written and I think that I almost got it to be a cohesive story. This piece is slightly different than the piece I submitted to that challenge -- and, I hope, better.
Title: An Honest Man
Fandom(s): White Collar
Character: Peter Burke
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2409
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Fanfic, for fun, not profit
Summary: Four times Peter Burke didn't break the law and one time he did.
1. Easy, Schmeasy
"Come on, Petey, don't be such a chicken!" Dave's voice dripped with the derision that only a 12-year-old could manage. "Just grab us a pack of cigs and walk out. We've done it a hundred times. Easy, schmeasy."
The three older boys had Peter backed into a corner across the street from the Citgo Gas and Mini-Mart. Dave was his cousin and someone Peter had always wanted to impress, but in the four weeks since Peter's family had moved to his side of town, Dave hadn't so much as agreed to a game of catch. Then today with their moms off shopping and Dave being required to watch over his younger cousin, Peter finally thought he'd get his chance. This wasn't what he had in mind.
"I don't want to steal anything." His voice was small and quiet. "Stealing is wrong."
The other boys laughed but Dave grabbed him tightly by the arm. "Stop being a baby. Just do what we want. We'll even let you smoke one with us."
"I don't want to smoke." The words were out before Peter could stop them.
Dave's hold became painful. "Then don't smoke. But you are going to do this, you understand?" He shook Peter. "You're going to get those cigs and you're going to keep your yap shut, got it?"
Peter blinked back tears and nodded.
"Good." Dave dragged Peter onto the sidewalk then pushed him toward the store. "Hurry up about it or we're going to leave you here and I'm going to tell your mom you ran away." Dave reached into Peter's pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Now, I've got your bus pass and money. You'd never make it home."
Peter crossed the street, rubbing his arm and fighting the sick feeling that ate away at him. The door dinged when he walked in, but the teenager behind the counter barely looked up from the comic he was reading. The rack of cigarettes was unguarded and unwatched. It would be easy— Peter looked out the window. Dave and his buddies still lurked on the other side of the street. They were obviously dividing up the money that he'd had in his wallet.
Suddenly Peter wasn't scared, he was mad. He'd spent weeks trying to find a way to make Dave like him and then he turns out to be a creep. But if he didn't take the cigarettes out to Dave, how was he going to get home?
The door dinged again and a new customer walked in. Peter was so preoccupied with his problem that he didn't notice it was a police officer until she stopped in front of him.
"Are you alright, Kiddo?"
Peter looked into her eyes and suddenly knew what to do. "I'm lost! I was out with cousin and they wanted me to do some bad things, but I didn't want to. They took my wallet and I can't get home." He paused for a breath and looked out the window again. This time there wasn't anyone across the street.
The officer smiled and reached for her radio. "Don't worry. I'll get you home." She crouched down to his level and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"What's your name?"
"Peter. Peter Burke."
"You say you were with your cousins? Older boys, were they?"
Peter nodded.
She sighed. "We've been having problems around here. Shoplifting and theft. Is that what they wanted you to do?
Peter stared at the floor, warring desires of telling the truth and not being a tattletale made it hard to think. Then he looked up. "Uh-huh. They wanted me to get some cigarettes. But that's wrong."
"Yes, it is." She smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "You did good, Peter Burke. Always stand up and do the right thing."
Peter nodded, a feeling of pride sweeping away the fear and uncertainty he had been feeling. "I will."
2. Little White Lie
The sickening scream of rending metal and the loud blast of a horn jerked Peter out of his book. The sound of the crash came from the street down from the bus stop and Peter ran toward the accident without bothering to grab his backpack.
He rounded the corner just in time to see a girl climb out of a red sport's car whose front end was now wrapped around a large oak tree. She wavered unsteadily on her feet and Peter dashed over to help her. He hadn't quite reached her when she spun to face him, tangled up in her own feet and collapsed in a heap.
Peter crouched down next to her. "Are you hurt?"
She looked up at him and he recognized her from school – a senior, one of the cheerleaders. Jenna Blake. He sat three rows behind her in math.
"I don't think so." She ran her hands through her hair and over her arms. She gingerly flexed her legs. "Just a little dazed." She looked over at the car. "Oh my god. The car…" She burst into tears.
Peter awkwardly patted her shoulder. "Don't worry. It's just a car."
She sobbed harder. "You don't understand. I've been in two accidents already. I'll lose my license if I get another ticket. My parent's told me they weren't going to buy me another car!"
Peter really didn’t didn't have a response to that.
She suddenly stopped crying and eyed him critically. "You could say you were driving!"
"What?"
"Yeah. Say we were out together, you were driving and swerved to miss a kid on the street."
"There are no kids out at midnight."
"Whatever." She wiped her face clean. "I can pay you."
"You don't understand…"
"Look. They're not going to do anything about a one-car accident. Not for the first one anyway. My insurance will cover everything and I'll get my new car." She was digging in her purse. "I've got $150 in my purse right now."
"$150?"
"That's all I have on me. But I can get you more tomorrow."
Peter shook his head. "Keep your money and save it up to buy yourself a new car." Sirens echoed in the background and a couple was coming out of their apartment and running over to them.
"You can't be serious," she really looked like she didn't believe he was turning her down. "I can get you $500 easy."
Peter shook his head.
She grabbed his arm. "How much do you want?"
How much did he want? To lie in order to help a good-looking con artist weasel her way out of justice and get something that she didn't deserve? "There isn't enough money in the world."
3. Look the Other Way
Peter hated parties like this, especially when the party was thrown by organizations that had only Greek letter for names. Why he'd let Dan drag him here was beyond him. He just wasn't the stereotypical frat-boy type even if he did happen to belong to a fraternity. The music was too loud for conversation and he was sure that he didn't want to know what they'd spiked the punch with. This whole party had bad news written all over it. He hadn't seen Dan in twenty minutes and if he didn’t show up in the next five, Peter was heading back to their dorm without him.
An arm suddenly wrapped itself around Peter's neck and he turned just in time to catch a girl as she stumbled down the steps to the entryway. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"I want to go home." Her words were slurred and her eyes didn't quite focus.
Peter managed to get his arm up under her before she fell and ended up supporting most of her weight. She looked slightly green and he decided heading outside would be the best move. Once out in the cool night air he could wait for someone to come and claim her. He was almost to the door when a beefy grabbed him, pulling him to a stop. Peter half turned and met the angry glare of a drunken frat boy. Peter remembered meeting him when he first came. Jake, Peter thought, one of the organizers of this little shindig.
"Hold on! That's my date."
"Really?" Peter's instant dislike of the creep didn't go away with closer inspection. "I think she wants to go home."
"Listen, man. Me and her, we're together. We were just going to go upstairs and have some more fun. She just took a wrong turn, that's all."
"I think she's had a little too much fun already." Peter shook free of Jake's grasp, easing himself and the girl through the doorway. "I don't think she's gonna remember anything about tonight."
"That's perfect, right?" Jake grinned. "What she can't remember ain't gonna hurt her, now is it?" He moved to grab her arm but Peter blocked the move and managed to maneuver the girl a few more feet toward the outside steps.
Jake's voice turned wheedling. "Come on man, do a bud a favor. I'll share."
Peter kept a tight rein on his anger and disgust. "I'm leaving and the lady is coming with me."
Jake made a move to stop them, but Peter easily sidestepped the drunken lunge. Jake lost his balance and tumbled down the stairs, landing in a dazed heap at the bottom.
Peter really wanted to stop and make sure the creep had been sufficiently injured in his fall to keep him from preying on any of the girls in the party, but instead he guided the girl down the steps and helped her toward his car. Once she was safe he'd drop a line to campus police letting them know about the drinking and drugs. If there were any justice in the world, Jake would still be laying at the bottom of the steps when they got there.
4. Greater Good
"Burke!" Agent Truman waved a beckoning hand at Peter.
Peter dropped his paperwork and followed the senior agent past the interrogation rooms.
"I need your help here, Peter." Truman, a big burly man, looked tired and worn. Peter understood the feeling. Their best chance at proving that Jason Carmichael was "The Burlap Kidnapper" had ended up a bust when Shane Felix, a desperate drug-addict, happened upon the money drop and blown surveillance. Six months of investigation and they were back to square one.
Truman waited a beat, checking to see if they were alone, and then he shoved some papers into Peter's hand. "You need to grab your paperwork and make it match what's on these pages here."
Peter looked at the crumpled sheets in his hand. "What are you talking about?"
"I cut a deal with Felix. He'll swear he came up on the money after Carmichael was there picking up the cash."
Peter looked at the sheets in his hand. They could prove Carmichael was in the area and that he had the opportunity for the kidnapping. They just couldn't place him with the money. This could work.
"No." He didn't even have to think about it.
"What?" Truman pulled him further down the hall. "What do you mean 'no'? You've been working this case as long as any of us. You know what this animal's done. If this guy's willing to point the finger at Jackson, what harm can it do? He gets to go to a good rehab clinic and we get to close this case. It's 'win-win'!"
"But it's not right. You and I both know that Carmichael is the perp, but we have to prove it legitimately. We can't perjure ourselves or ask others to do it."
"We should take this." Truman shook his head. "We're never going to get Carmichael after tonight."
"Yes, we will. Because he's dirty and we're good." Peter crumpled the sheets up and jammed them deep into the trashcan in the corner. "You want to help Felix, that's fine. But don't do it this way. That's not who I am. That's not who you are. Don't let Carmichael drag us down to his level."
Truman rubbed his face, shoulder's slumped in defeat. "I don't know."
"I do." Peter took Truman's arm and led him back to the main room. "No criminal is worth throwing your career away for."
5. Aiding and Abetting
"Oh, Neal. What the hell did you do this time?" Peter couldn't remember the number of times he'd muttered that phrase in the past year. Or the number of times he'd sat in his car spying on a man who in all intents and purposes was his partner. His friend.
The NYPD swarmed around June's house. June stood at the bottom of her steps, a still and elegant figure among the chaos that surrounded her. She looked over at him once, their eyes met for a moment before hers flicked to the far street corner. Then she went back to watching nothing in particular.
Peter sighed and backed his car down to the alley when he could make his way unseen to the street corner June had indicated. Halfway down that block, Peter saw an origami swan sitting next to the entrance for a basement apartment. He unlocked the car doors and slowed as he passed it.
He was almost past the steps when Neal dashed out of the shadows and dove into the back seat. "I didn't do it."
Peter couldn't count the number of times he'd heard that, too. He should be turning around and handing Neal over the local authorities instead of driving further away. He was an FBI agent sworn to uphold the law and yet, here he was neck deep in whatever Neal had gotten himself mixed up in. That was another thing that had become almost a habit: Aiding and abetting a fugitive.
He looked in the mirror and met Neal's brilliant blue eyes. Neal looked tired and wary, but smiled slightly when he caught Peter's eye. "Thanks man. I knew you'd come. I've been hiding out there all night." He laid his head back and closed his eyes. "There were some very serious cops who busted into June's house. I have no idea what's going on."
Peter sighed. "Don't worry. We'll figure it out."
usaland The vote was over on the 21st, so I think that I can post it here, even if we didn't get the results yet. It's the first/only "Five Times" fic I've written and I think that I almost got it to be a cohesive story. This piece is slightly different than the piece I submitted to that challenge -- and, I hope, better.Title: An Honest Man
Fandom(s): White Collar
Character: Peter Burke
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2409
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Fanfic, for fun, not profit
Summary: Four times Peter Burke didn't break the law and one time he did.
1. Easy, Schmeasy
"Come on, Petey, don't be such a chicken!" Dave's voice dripped with the derision that only a 12-year-old could manage. "Just grab us a pack of cigs and walk out. We've done it a hundred times. Easy, schmeasy."
The three older boys had Peter backed into a corner across the street from the Citgo Gas and Mini-Mart. Dave was his cousin and someone Peter had always wanted to impress, but in the four weeks since Peter's family had moved to his side of town, Dave hadn't so much as agreed to a game of catch. Then today with their moms off shopping and Dave being required to watch over his younger cousin, Peter finally thought he'd get his chance. This wasn't what he had in mind.
"I don't want to steal anything." His voice was small and quiet. "Stealing is wrong."
The other boys laughed but Dave grabbed him tightly by the arm. "Stop being a baby. Just do what we want. We'll even let you smoke one with us."
"I don't want to smoke." The words were out before Peter could stop them.
Dave's hold became painful. "Then don't smoke. But you are going to do this, you understand?" He shook Peter. "You're going to get those cigs and you're going to keep your yap shut, got it?"
Peter blinked back tears and nodded.
"Good." Dave dragged Peter onto the sidewalk then pushed him toward the store. "Hurry up about it or we're going to leave you here and I'm going to tell your mom you ran away." Dave reached into Peter's pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Now, I've got your bus pass and money. You'd never make it home."
Peter crossed the street, rubbing his arm and fighting the sick feeling that ate away at him. The door dinged when he walked in, but the teenager behind the counter barely looked up from the comic he was reading. The rack of cigarettes was unguarded and unwatched. It would be easy— Peter looked out the window. Dave and his buddies still lurked on the other side of the street. They were obviously dividing up the money that he'd had in his wallet.
Suddenly Peter wasn't scared, he was mad. He'd spent weeks trying to find a way to make Dave like him and then he turns out to be a creep. But if he didn't take the cigarettes out to Dave, how was he going to get home?
The door dinged again and a new customer walked in. Peter was so preoccupied with his problem that he didn't notice it was a police officer until she stopped in front of him.
"Are you alright, Kiddo?"
Peter looked into her eyes and suddenly knew what to do. "I'm lost! I was out with cousin and they wanted me to do some bad things, but I didn't want to. They took my wallet and I can't get home." He paused for a breath and looked out the window again. This time there wasn't anyone across the street.
The officer smiled and reached for her radio. "Don't worry. I'll get you home." She crouched down to his level and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"What's your name?"
"Peter. Peter Burke."
"You say you were with your cousins? Older boys, were they?"
Peter nodded.
She sighed. "We've been having problems around here. Shoplifting and theft. Is that what they wanted you to do?
Peter stared at the floor, warring desires of telling the truth and not being a tattletale made it hard to think. Then he looked up. "Uh-huh. They wanted me to get some cigarettes. But that's wrong."
"Yes, it is." She smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "You did good, Peter Burke. Always stand up and do the right thing."
Peter nodded, a feeling of pride sweeping away the fear and uncertainty he had been feeling. "I will."
2. Little White Lie
The sickening scream of rending metal and the loud blast of a horn jerked Peter out of his book. The sound of the crash came from the street down from the bus stop and Peter ran toward the accident without bothering to grab his backpack.
He rounded the corner just in time to see a girl climb out of a red sport's car whose front end was now wrapped around a large oak tree. She wavered unsteadily on her feet and Peter dashed over to help her. He hadn't quite reached her when she spun to face him, tangled up in her own feet and collapsed in a heap.
Peter crouched down next to her. "Are you hurt?"
She looked up at him and he recognized her from school – a senior, one of the cheerleaders. Jenna Blake. He sat three rows behind her in math.
"I don't think so." She ran her hands through her hair and over her arms. She gingerly flexed her legs. "Just a little dazed." She looked over at the car. "Oh my god. The car…" She burst into tears.
Peter awkwardly patted her shoulder. "Don't worry. It's just a car."
She sobbed harder. "You don't understand. I've been in two accidents already. I'll lose my license if I get another ticket. My parent's told me they weren't going to buy me another car!"
Peter really didn’t didn't have a response to that.
She suddenly stopped crying and eyed him critically. "You could say you were driving!"
"What?"
"Yeah. Say we were out together, you were driving and swerved to miss a kid on the street."
"There are no kids out at midnight."
"Whatever." She wiped her face clean. "I can pay you."
"You don't understand…"
"Look. They're not going to do anything about a one-car accident. Not for the first one anyway. My insurance will cover everything and I'll get my new car." She was digging in her purse. "I've got $150 in my purse right now."
"$150?"
"That's all I have on me. But I can get you more tomorrow."
Peter shook his head. "Keep your money and save it up to buy yourself a new car." Sirens echoed in the background and a couple was coming out of their apartment and running over to them.
"You can't be serious," she really looked like she didn't believe he was turning her down. "I can get you $500 easy."
Peter shook his head.
She grabbed his arm. "How much do you want?"
How much did he want? To lie in order to help a good-looking con artist weasel her way out of justice and get something that she didn't deserve? "There isn't enough money in the world."
3. Look the Other Way
Peter hated parties like this, especially when the party was thrown by organizations that had only Greek letter for names. Why he'd let Dan drag him here was beyond him. He just wasn't the stereotypical frat-boy type even if he did happen to belong to a fraternity. The music was too loud for conversation and he was sure that he didn't want to know what they'd spiked the punch with. This whole party had bad news written all over it. He hadn't seen Dan in twenty minutes and if he didn’t show up in the next five, Peter was heading back to their dorm without him.
An arm suddenly wrapped itself around Peter's neck and he turned just in time to catch a girl as she stumbled down the steps to the entryway. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"I want to go home." Her words were slurred and her eyes didn't quite focus.
Peter managed to get his arm up under her before she fell and ended up supporting most of her weight. She looked slightly green and he decided heading outside would be the best move. Once out in the cool night air he could wait for someone to come and claim her. He was almost to the door when a beefy grabbed him, pulling him to a stop. Peter half turned and met the angry glare of a drunken frat boy. Peter remembered meeting him when he first came. Jake, Peter thought, one of the organizers of this little shindig.
"Hold on! That's my date."
"Really?" Peter's instant dislike of the creep didn't go away with closer inspection. "I think she wants to go home."
"Listen, man. Me and her, we're together. We were just going to go upstairs and have some more fun. She just took a wrong turn, that's all."
"I think she's had a little too much fun already." Peter shook free of Jake's grasp, easing himself and the girl through the doorway. "I don't think she's gonna remember anything about tonight."
"That's perfect, right?" Jake grinned. "What she can't remember ain't gonna hurt her, now is it?" He moved to grab her arm but Peter blocked the move and managed to maneuver the girl a few more feet toward the outside steps.
Jake's voice turned wheedling. "Come on man, do a bud a favor. I'll share."
Peter kept a tight rein on his anger and disgust. "I'm leaving and the lady is coming with me."
Jake made a move to stop them, but Peter easily sidestepped the drunken lunge. Jake lost his balance and tumbled down the stairs, landing in a dazed heap at the bottom.
Peter really wanted to stop and make sure the creep had been sufficiently injured in his fall to keep him from preying on any of the girls in the party, but instead he guided the girl down the steps and helped her toward his car. Once she was safe he'd drop a line to campus police letting them know about the drinking and drugs. If there were any justice in the world, Jake would still be laying at the bottom of the steps when they got there.
4. Greater Good
"Burke!" Agent Truman waved a beckoning hand at Peter.
Peter dropped his paperwork and followed the senior agent past the interrogation rooms.
"I need your help here, Peter." Truman, a big burly man, looked tired and worn. Peter understood the feeling. Their best chance at proving that Jason Carmichael was "The Burlap Kidnapper" had ended up a bust when Shane Felix, a desperate drug-addict, happened upon the money drop and blown surveillance. Six months of investigation and they were back to square one.
Truman waited a beat, checking to see if they were alone, and then he shoved some papers into Peter's hand. "You need to grab your paperwork and make it match what's on these pages here."
Peter looked at the crumpled sheets in his hand. "What are you talking about?"
"I cut a deal with Felix. He'll swear he came up on the money after Carmichael was there picking up the cash."
Peter looked at the sheets in his hand. They could prove Carmichael was in the area and that he had the opportunity for the kidnapping. They just couldn't place him with the money. This could work.
"No." He didn't even have to think about it.
"What?" Truman pulled him further down the hall. "What do you mean 'no'? You've been working this case as long as any of us. You know what this animal's done. If this guy's willing to point the finger at Jackson, what harm can it do? He gets to go to a good rehab clinic and we get to close this case. It's 'win-win'!"
"But it's not right. You and I both know that Carmichael is the perp, but we have to prove it legitimately. We can't perjure ourselves or ask others to do it."
"We should take this." Truman shook his head. "We're never going to get Carmichael after tonight."
"Yes, we will. Because he's dirty and we're good." Peter crumpled the sheets up and jammed them deep into the trashcan in the corner. "You want to help Felix, that's fine. But don't do it this way. That's not who I am. That's not who you are. Don't let Carmichael drag us down to his level."
Truman rubbed his face, shoulder's slumped in defeat. "I don't know."
"I do." Peter took Truman's arm and led him back to the main room. "No criminal is worth throwing your career away for."
5. Aiding and Abetting
"Oh, Neal. What the hell did you do this time?" Peter couldn't remember the number of times he'd muttered that phrase in the past year. Or the number of times he'd sat in his car spying on a man who in all intents and purposes was his partner. His friend.
The NYPD swarmed around June's house. June stood at the bottom of her steps, a still and elegant figure among the chaos that surrounded her. She looked over at him once, their eyes met for a moment before hers flicked to the far street corner. Then she went back to watching nothing in particular.
Peter sighed and backed his car down to the alley when he could make his way unseen to the street corner June had indicated. Halfway down that block, Peter saw an origami swan sitting next to the entrance for a basement apartment. He unlocked the car doors and slowed as he passed it.
He was almost past the steps when Neal dashed out of the shadows and dove into the back seat. "I didn't do it."
Peter couldn't count the number of times he'd heard that, too. He should be turning around and handing Neal over the local authorities instead of driving further away. He was an FBI agent sworn to uphold the law and yet, here he was neck deep in whatever Neal had gotten himself mixed up in. That was another thing that had become almost a habit: Aiding and abetting a fugitive.
He looked in the mirror and met Neal's brilliant blue eyes. Neal looked tired and wary, but smiled slightly when he caught Peter's eye. "Thanks man. I knew you'd come. I've been hiding out there all night." He laid his head back and closed his eyes. "There were some very serious cops who busted into June's house. I have no idea what's going on."
Peter sighed. "Don't worry. We'll figure it out."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-08-03 05:13 pm (UTC)From:I'm really not a fanfic person, I almost never read it and really never seek it out. Over-exposure to too much crappy fanfic back in my FK days I think. Got me out of the mood. But every now and again
Saw this post on Saturday and blew past it, cause, well, I don't read fanfic. And then I got wondering... White Collar... (yay!) and likely Peter-heavy.... and I've liked plenty that you've written in the past... and ... I couldn't stop wondering... so I came to read.
HOORAY!!! SO GOOD!!!
I love this show! And adore you for building something WONDERFUL with Peter!
no subject
Date: 2010-08-03 06:21 pm (UTC)From:I know what you mean about fanfic. For me, it's not even badly-written fic. There's so much fanfic out there that I find uninteresting. It's trite and narrowly focused on overused themes or plot or ideas. And I never did understand the "They're hot, let's write them having sex" line of fic.
Of course, that frees up a lot of my time. *grin*
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 05:41 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 05:45 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 11:38 pm (UTC)From: