White Collar: Keep it Under Your Hat (Neal, Dust Allergy)

[Mercury]

Keep it Under Your Hat

The back of museums, the storage rooms with their high shelves and boxed history, were always Neal’s favourite part of the building. There were things filled with subtle beauties and amazing artwork that weren’t the big flashy numbers. They were often incomplete, sometimes seasonal, but all were fantastic. They told stories of bigger things, of greater stories.

However, this particular museum backroom was dusty. Very dusty.

Generally, it didn’t really bother him, but he had been getting over a slight head cold, and hadn’t had a chance to take anything for his re-emerging seasonal allergies.

He could already tell that his sensitive sinuses were not going to be forgiving.

“Ishhh, Hsshhhh, Hihhhttchhh.”

He had a pocket square, but he really didn’t want to touch that just yet. Even though every instinct told him to be polite and have something to cover his nose, he knew his sneezes were bone-dry and that the need for a handkerchief was not immediate. It was questionable whether they would stay that way; his allergies were usually misty but clean, but there was still some lingering congestion from his cold.

It could go either way.

He wiggled his nose to try and sate the tickle that resided there, but it didn’t quite work. Luckily it didn’t seem to exasperate the sensation and he decided to cautiously dismiss it as benign, for the time being.

Neal continued to stroll between the piles of crates, looking for one with a specific mark. It didn’t take him long to find amongst the rows of similar looking crates and he lay the crowbar into the edge, ready to try and pry off the lid so that he could get to the vase stored inside.

Then the door opened and Neal instinctually ducked down behind the crate.

“Do you even know where it is?” Sounded Peter’s voice, made carefully light and unprovocative despite the probing words.

“It’s in here somewhere.”

The forger looked around to where the unidentified voice came from, careful to keep hidden as he peered. There were two men fanning out from where Peter stood. There was a gun levelled with measured experienced at the F.B.I agent’s head and the sight made Neal’s stomach flip, as it always did when he saw a gun.

However, seeing it pointed at his friend’s made his chest tighten painfully.

He was planned to get the antique vase out of storage and the building before the thieves arrived, but something must have moved up their timeline. If they couldn’t find what they were looking for then it could end very badly for Peter and, even though Neal was technically going behind the F.B.I’s back to get the antique out the way, the bad guys could easily think Peter had something to do with its disappearance and turn on him.

“Hhhhhh...” Neal pinched his nose between his knuckles. It would be no good to sneeze before he knew exactly how touchy the situation was.

“Watch the corridor.” Someone said. “If you see anyone or anything, we shoot the fed.”

“Right.”

Neal winced. It definitely wouldn’t go down well for them to discover he was there. They were clearly thugs and most likely working for someone else. They would shoot first and let their boss organize the clean-up.

One of the men started searching the opposite side of the room, but they were still standing between Neal and the only accessible exit. He just had to move away from the crate they wanted, somewhere they weren’t going to look, and hopefully they would pass by him.

There was a dark corner, one with painting stacked and covered in sheets where he could hide. It clearly didn’t contain anything big enough to carry the antique they were after, and Neal carefully started moving, low and hidden, towards the sheets.

As he reached the paintings, silent even by his standards, he brushed up against them. He didn’t notice the dust immediately, possibly because his nose was already twitchy, but as he sunk back into the shadows his breath hitched.

“Ihhhh... Ichhh! Hishhhh. Hnsshh. Ntshhh!”

“What was that?”

Neal looked up in panic. He hadn’t been that loud, but the noise must have echoed through the room.

“Mice.” Peter suggested, casting a knowing look around the room. “Could be a rat, even, you know they don’t keep these places very clean.”

“Shut up.” Exclaimed the guy with the gun, shuffling and looking over at the guy searching through the crates, “Just find them god damn pot.”

Pinching his nose shut, Neal simultaneously cursed himself for making noise and the other man for calling an antique vase a ‘pot’. He sniffled a little bit, very quietly, and pulled out his pocket square to press the silk against his face as his breath hitched again.

He didn’t care about giving his position away, he wasn’t even worrying about the scolding Peter would give him for breaking into the storage room and attempting to steal the antique. He just didn’t want Peter to get hurt, he wanted them both to walk out of the room intact and without a gun pointing at either of them.

However, it didn’t seem as if his twitching nose would allow it.

Neal blinked his eyes, which were watering slightly, but pressed his face into the silk.

“Hkkkthh! Mphhhh! Ptchhh... hhhhh....Husstchhh!”

“Wha-”

“HATCHHHHOO! HATCCCCHHOO!”

It was only from years of being very careful with what he let show that stopped him from jumping at the loud sound. He listened to Peter apologize to the guy for sneezing and Neal gave a silent huff at the stupidity of the white collar agent. He knew that Peter didn’t have any allergies, to dust or otherwise and in the morning had shown no sign of coming down with anything. Startling the guy pointing a gun by pretending to sneeze was not a good plan of distraction.

“Bless you.” Said the guy by the door, and Neal saw the searching man shoot his companion a confused and exasperated look. Like blessing a hostage was below them.

Neal started to hate them a little more, but he didn’t have time to ruminate on it as he had to press the cloth to his nose again, punching it shut through the material.

“Xnk, Knnt, Gnxk,” They were getting progressively wetter, and the stifling wasn’t helping. They were much more audible than his usual silent suppressions and through a gasping breath he heard the guys getting impatient and speeding up their search. They were a safe distance away now, but they would soon be moving to different crates and close enough to hear the squidged sounds.

He kept the pocket square cloth in place with one hand, and used his other to place his hat over his face as much as he could.

Although he didn’t like not being able to see, he needed some other barrier between his nose and the thugs.

“Hinktt, Itztt, Chnktt, Hihdnkkttt.” He winced at the last, half-controlled expulsion, as he lowered his hat. The wetness of it had undoubtedly ruined the pocket square material for further usage, as silk was not the most durable of fabrics under the best of circumstances.

Peter coughed and made a loud sniffing noise that, in Neal’s professional opinion, didn’t sound wet enough to be real, but it seemed to be convincing enough.

“Do one of you have a tissue or handkerchief?”

The man searching through the shelves swore before making his way back over Peter, he was the best dressed of the three and seemed to be the only one who would carry such a thing on him. Neal knew that Peter had noticed that too and had used the request to rally two of them into the same spot, rather than having one stumble across Neal. The consultant took the opportunity to move once again, circling around the covered paintings and behind the shelves that separated him from Peter and the two captives.

He gave the labels a quick glance to confirm that the majority of things on the shelves were boxes of files and some replicas. Neal concluded that if anything was actually valuable he could always ‘replace’ them without much fuss.

Neal pushed his shoulder against the shelves and sent them toppling over. The thieves had been distracted and looking away from Peter awkwardly as he theatrically blew his nose, so they didn’t notice the frame falling down on them, nor the F.B.I. agent’s smooth step to move out of the way so that he wouldn’t get hit.

It came crashing down, sending a plume of dust into the air and Neal only had a moment to nod a confirmation to Peter that he was okay before he had to turn, using his hat to futilely fan the dust away from his face.

“Ishhh! Hih...Hiscchhhht! Hititccchhh! Hashhhittchhh! Itchhhhht! Ahhh... Haishhhh!”

“Here.” Peter pulled Neal’s arm down, the silk following it, before a clean, cotton handkerchief, warm from being kept beside Peter’s breast, was pressed to his face. “Blow.”

For once, Neal did what Peter told him and the other man led him by the elbow out of the storage room and down the corridor. They passed Jones, who was finishing what Peter had started with the man who’d been watching the door, while a team of agents were moving in to uncover and cuff the two inside.

After cleaning himself up, his nose still twitching slightly, Neal glanced over at Peter, who managed to look exasperated and smug at the same time.

“Is there a reason you’re looking at me like that?”

Peter chuckled as they went through the emergency exit where blissful air greeted them, and for a moment Neal forgot about the pollen and was happy to be away from the god awful dust.

“For everything I know about you from tracking you down and then working together; I never knew you had allergies.”

“I’m allowed to have some secrets, aren’t I?” Relieved that Peter was okay, and just glad that he and the dust hadn’t caused the whole day to go horribly wrong, he decided to throw his friend a bone. “Just to dust and some tree pollens,” He confessed. “It normally doesn’t bother me, but after that cold I guess I just forgot to take anything for the changing season. Otherwise I would have been fine.”

Peter nodded. “Well, there’re some pills in the van’s first aid kit if you need them.”

Neal could feel another bout of sneezes flickering in the back of his sinuses and decided that he’d displayed enough indignity for one day. So he smiled, thanked Peter and held the handkerchief under his nose as he moved away from the F.B.I team leader, towards the cramped solitude of the van.

“Oh, and, Neal?”

Neal turned towards Peter, who was waiting for his full attention.

“No. You’re not allowed to have any secrets. Not from me.”

[Mei]

That right there? That was my brain after reading this. NEAL YOU ARE SO GOSH-DARN CUTE I CAN'T TAKE IT. And Peter being all...Peter. These two are so adorable.

[Nola]

Generally, it didn’t really bother him, but he had been getting over a slight head cold, and hadn’t had a chance to take anything for his re-emerging seasonal allergies.

You had me right here! I love Peter and Neal, though I haven't watched it in ages!! I thought this was just wonderful, and I adored how he had to hold them in.

That line makes me hope for a prequel though, just saying, hahah....

[Bruyere]

I'm not that familiar with White Collar but I really enjoyed reading this and this line in particular:

Peter pulled Neal’s arm down, the silk following it, before a clean, cotton handkerchief, warm from being kept beside Peter’s breast, was pressed to his face.

was unbelievably hot. Warm handkerchief. Hi, thing I never knew I needed until now.

[phoenix]

Yay, this made me so happy! I haven't been keeping up with White Collar recently (I keep meaning to catch up), but I have a huge soft spot for Neal and, of course, Neal being taken care of by Peter and/or El... and/or anyone, really. I loved Neal's breathy sneezes and how Peter effortlessly covered for him... and this bit at the end...

It came crashing down, sending a plume of dust into the air and Neal only had a moment to nod a confirmation to Peter that he was okay before he had to turn, using his hat to futilely fan the dust away from his face.

“Ishhh! Hih...Hiscchhhht! Hititccchhh! Hashhhittchhh! Itchhhhht! Ahhh... Haishhhh!”

“Here.” Peter pulled Neal’s arm down, the silk following it, before a clean, cotton handkerchief, warm from being kept beside Peter’s breast, was pressed to his face. “Blow.”

...was just the icing on the cake. Great job!

[MoonDuck]

White Collar fanficccccc yayyyyyy this is awesome

[snuffles]

My absolute favorite part of this (besides all the wonderful goodness of sneezing while hiding!) was how Peter risked fake sneezes while he had a gun pointed to his head! I mean... omg! Risk, danger, excitement, partnership, and of course sneezing! This one had it all!

[Shay]

Great story. If you ever feel like writing a second part I wouldn't mind a followup exploring his seasonal allergies. Maybe he's on an extended undercover job where he doesn't have access to his meds.

[AngelEyes]

Beautiful! I love Peter assuming what was going on and covering for Neil. Their relationship is just...mmmm. And this...

“No. You’re not allowed to have any secrets. Not from me.”

Perfect ending. I can just picture it!

Must get caught up with this series!