I've been here, I've been there // Honey, I been somehow everywhere

[conning]

Neal isn't really sure what's going to happen when the Admiral sends them home. To his home. Where by now, somewhere in the world, Kate is alive and healthy. It's strange to think of her somewhere unknown and not feel the immediate need to go find her. To save, protect, avenge her. It's also strange that even knowing she's out there, even seeing proof, Neal can't shake the guilt of killing her, either. It feels like things should have shifted, that some monumental internal change should have taken place. He still feels the things he always had, but with new knowledge counter it.

It's all swirling in his brain when Norton meets him in his cabin. Still roiling there when Neal squeezes his hand and tells thin air that they're ready.

It snaps to background when, on his next blink, Neal and Norton find themselves in the conference room of the FBI's New York City White Collar division, and Neal is still holding Norton's hand. The door from the office floor swings open and admits a small flood of people in the forms of Peter, Diana, Jones, and... Mozzie?

All four of them stop dead, seeing Neal and a stranger at the far end of the room, plus whatever Norton chose to bring. Neal stares at all of them, bemused.

"I knew it! I told you." Mozzie says, pointing at Neal. He glares at Peter and company in triumph.

Peter's jaw works for a moment before he takes a deep breath, clearly trying to focus on being relieved instead of furious. "Neal. Who's your friend?"

Comments

[pharadyne]

As Norton hears footsteps on the stairs, he cocks his head in curiosity, eager to see this woman who played cards with Frank Sinatra and is like family to Neal. He's not disappointed. June is elegant and the warmth she has for Neal is obvious and she has an air of mischief about her, such that he can easily imagine letting her know that they might break a few teensy unimportant laws and she'd be perfectly sanguine about it.

So when Neal wraps an arm around his waist, he doesn't pull away or tense. Neal said she's family and that she's understanding, and Norton trusts Neal's judgement.

"Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Ellington. Neal speaks very fondly of you."

[conning]

"I'm glad to hear it," she says, that air of mischief very strong as she takes in the sight of the two of them standing together. "And I'm very glad to meet you, Norton."

She takes one of Norton's hands between both of her own and gives it a little squeeze. "I don't know if Neal has told you much of what he's been dealing with lately, and it's not my business to share if he hasn't, but I'm very, very glad he has someone close here on his side."

Neal smiles down at his feet, pleased and embarrassed at the same time. "He'll be with us for a little while, if that's all right? With me, upstairs."

June turns her attention to Neal, giving him a kiss and a pat on the cheek. "Absolutely."

She looks between the two of them. "If there's anything at all you need, Norton, please don't hesitate to ask."

[pharadyne]

"Thank you, Mrs. Ellington, very generous of you." He replies with the upper-middle class manners drilled into him by his mother. The he pauses, hesitating to say what else he's thinking, but June is clearly concerned about Neal. He glances at Neal and then back at June.

"I'll take good care of him."

[conning]

Neal smiles at Norton, feeling warm from his chest to his stomach. Reassured. It’s nice.

June gives Norton’s hand a little squeeze before letting go. “I’m glad to hear it. I won’t keep you, but I would love it if the three of us did breakfast tomorrow.”

[pharadyne]

"Not too early I hope." He's always preferred late nights and late mornings, although it'd probably be rude to say so. So instead he invents an excuse.

"Still recovering from the trip. Such a beastly flight." A twelve hour trip in 1955, with two refueling stops along the way, and it doesn't quite occur to him that it might have improved in the last sixty years. "It was worth it to be here now, but I have an absolute horror for aeroplanes and I'm completely knackered."

[conning]

She chuckles. "Wouldn't dream of serving anything before eleven. Breakfast is when you make it."

He knows she has no idea that it's been a couple of months for him, but he can't resist hugging her one more time before they go upstairs. She returns the embrace warmly, though there's a little worry on her face when she lets go.

When they get to Neal's apartment, it's very, very much like his space on the Barge. Almost identical, in fact, except that the veranda isn't backed by a painted cityscape. It's backed by the real thing.

Neal gestures at the space as he closes and then locks the door behind them. "Welcome to the original. Accept no substitutions. Or forgeries."

[pharadyne]

Norton flashes Neal a grin but then gazes out at the New York skyline out past the veranda.

"Gosh, that view... You know, if it weren't for the leash and the kidnappers, I'd say you have a perfect home here. Of course, a leash and kidnappers are fairly significant drawbacks."

He turns away from the skyline and slides his arms around Neal's waist. "Thank you. For inviting me home with you. I'd offer to return the favour sometime...but it's probably not a good idea for me to return home, I think. And anyway, a slummy two-up-two-down doesn't make for nearly as nice a holiday as this. Is that a Château L'Angélus?" His attention is distracted by the wine collection.

[conning]

Neal wants to ask why it's not a good idea for Norton to go home. Whether it's truly a danger, a desire, or something else. The moment passes when Norton spots the wine. "2012 Château L'Angélus Grand Cru Classe, specifically."

He goes over to select the bottle, holding it up. "Should I crack it open? This seems suitably worth celebrating. You and me, here."

[pharadyne]

"I wasn't going to presume, but since you offered I wouldn't dream of saying no. I haven't had a good wine since my Cambridge days. Is 2012 a good year? It absolutely tickles me to say that. 2012. I never tried the wine during my brief trips to the future."

[conning]

"2012 was a great year, actually, for this particular vineyard. The best they've had in a while." He opens his cupboards, fetches down two wine glasses, pausing as he does to check that everything is in its place. There's no reason it wouldn't be, no time has actually passed, but he still feels the need to make sure. It will itch at him if he doesn't.

Neal pops the cork and pours them both a generous serving. "We should toast."

[pharadyne]

"Wine this fabulosa deserves a toast."

Norton takes the wine glass and raises it. "What shall we toast to? The future? Freedom? I'm on a roll with words that begin with 'F,' so maybe throw in 'fortune' and 'flirtation' as suggestions too."

[conning]

Neal grins, wrapping one arm around Norton’s waist to pull them closer against each other. “I drink to myself and another, and may that other be he who drinks to himself and another, and may that other be me. Here’s to New York and time travel and impossible places to meet.”

[pharadyne]

Norton leans against Neal and smirks. "Hmmmm, that's definitely flirtation." He swirls the wine in the glass. "Here's to us, and our amazing adventures." But before he takes a sip of the wine, he tilts his head up and gives Neal a gentle kiss.

short timeskip… lmk if you want to roll back!

[conning]

Neal leans in to the kiss, glances sideways to make sure he threw the chain on the door, and lifts his own glass briefly to his lips for a sip of the very good wine before he sets it aside on the kitchen table. “Ever wanted to make love on the city view veranda of a millionaire’s mansion? Because there are some surprisingly comfortable lounge chairs out there and it’s a beautiful evening.”

He doesn’t draw attention to his word choice, but it’s intentional. Shy, and sideways, and ultimately deniable, but intentional.

When they go to sleep, Neal actually smiles a little as he drifts off. His cabin on the Barge is great, as close as it’s possible to be to the real thing, but it’s still different. The quality of the air, the smells that linger most prominently in his mind. Falling asleep in his apartment, his real apartment, with the man he would drink to that he hopes will drink to him, is a gift and a strange kind of joy.

He’s still very deeply asleep, curled around Norton, when the veranda doors open quietly in the middle of the night. A narrow-faced man in a leather jacket stands just inside the apartment, watching the two of them in bed. When he speaks it’s with an unapologetic Jersey drawl.

“You know, he only ever sleeps that deep when he trusts somebody. Really trusts them. I’m amazed he managed to keep you so quiet that I don’t even know who you are.”

[pharadyne]

Norton's awake, but relaxed, drifting, blissful, when it's all shattered by the sound of a man's voice. In an instant, he's fully alert, heart pounding in fear. His first wild thought is that they're about to be arrested, but he replays the man's words in his head and his brain catches up to the adrenaline rush of his body, and he comes to a few conclusions. First: this man knows Neal well enough to comment on his sleeping habits. Second: he tracks Neal closely enough that he expects to know all of Neal's associates. Third: he's not a friend, a friend would come in through the front door. With those pieces of information, and remembering what Neal said about his murderous ex, Norton has a suspicion who the intruder is.

But since his pistol is somewhere scattered along with his clothes, he decides that the safest approach for now is to play harmless. He puts on an expression of wide-eyed nervous confusion and pulls the blanket up higher for modesty.

"Why would you know who I am? Are you a stalker? Oh my God, of course he has a stalker."

[conning]

Neal breathes in deep, letting it out as a soft sigh when Norton moves. It’s the soft, panicked words that wake him, blinking at Norton, still slightly sleep-drunk.

“Norton? S’matter.”

“First name’s a start.”

Neal wakes up after that, very, very fast. He sits up, hand going to Norton’s shoulder both protectively and for support. He starts to ask who’s there but the words shrivel up half-way to being said.

“No,” is what he says instead. “That’s impossible. You’re in a Russian prison on the other side of the world.”

Keller saunters a little further in, going to open the fridge and give what’s inside a once-over. “Clearly I am not.”

[pharadyne]

"Clearly you're interrupting what had been a lovely evening." Norton says to Keller in a peevish tone. As Keller's back is turned, Norton's eyes dart around the room looking for his pistol. He's sure Keller's armed and he'd like to even the score.

He doesn't get up from the bed yet, though. Keller hasn't killed them, so he must want something (although it's possible that "something" might just be some time to play with his prey before he murders them), but Neal knows him better than Norton does, so he'll follow Neal's lead.

[conning]

Neal is a lot more in shock than he's showing. He might not be the best lead to follow in the next thirty seconds, at least. His voice is a tight whisper. "How are you here?"

Keller snorts, drawing one of the beers that Neal keeps on hand for Peter out of the fridge and knocking the cap off with the edge of the kitchen table. "Plains, trains, and automobiles, sweetheart."

[pharadyne]

Norton is rarely possessive, but this man using endearments at Neal makes it surge up inside him. He suddenly wishes he hadn't pulled the covers up high a few seconds ago because he'd very much like to do something petty and demonstrative, such as running his hand over Neal's chest, just to show Keller what's what. On the other hand, he doesn't have to keep holding this blanket up.

"Funny, I didn't think Neal's veranda was a stop on the train line, petal. And there's definitely not a road through it."

He lets go of the blanket, kisses Neal's cheek (and adds in a wholly unnecessary caress over his chest), and then starts to move to slide out of the bed.

[conning]

He blinks, snapped out of the shock by the kiss and the touch. As Norton gets up, Neal does too, looking like nothing so much as a half-feral cat as he retrieves his silk robe from near the end of the bed.

“Did you send that guy after me?”

Keller raises an eyebrow, taking a pull from the beer as he keeps a peripheral eye on Norton. “Nah, Caffrey. You know I do my best work hands-on.”

That last part is said with a tiny smile and a wink at Norton.

Neal goes to Norton’s side, protective and defensive at once. “So why are you here?”

“I’ve got a proposition for you. The same proposition your friend with the panel van had, but I at least respect you enough to be up front about it.”

“This is up front, huh.” Neal mutters that, still all-too-clearly shaken. “Norton, may I introduce Matthew Keller, the end result when sentience is given to pond scum.”

Keller chuckles and takes another drink.

[pharadyne]

Norton probably could find another robe, but opts not to. He's not uncomfortable being naked and although Keller's probably not the type to be terrible put off by it, Norton hopes there's a chance it will make him at least slightly ruffled or distracted or something. It may not work, but he'll manoeuvre for any possible advantage he can get no matter how small.

"Can't say it's a pleasure to meet you. Sorry."

The information that Keller's involved, but not with the kidnapping attempt--assuming he's not lying--is interesting, however.

"Do you know the man who tried to kidnap Neal?" He can't set the kidnappers and the FBI against each other in mutual destruction, but if the kidnappers and Keller are on opposite sides...there might be possibilities there.

[conning]

Far from seeming intimidated, he raises an eyebrow and smirks a little and clearly decides to take in the view. "Not personally. He didn't have much of a reputation, either, but he was angling for one."

This time Neal's the one who gets possessive. He steps slightly in front of Norton, scowling.

"Spit it out."

Keller sighs, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table and slumping comfortably into it. "The Pink Panthers."

Neal doesn't know if it means anything to Norton, but it clearly means something to him. "...What, he was kidnapping me as his audition? That's--"

"No, he was kidnapping you because he knew he wasn't good enough to pull off the audition without someone who knows what they're doing. He was gonna use you to get what he needed to impress, since you screwed up his plans to take Turner's diamond."

[pharadyne]

Keller's appraising look is putting him off balance, torn between his vanity (he is a pleasure to look at if he does say so himself) and his dislike of Keller. But he focuses on the information they're receiving. It may not be a trustworthy source, but it's something.

Norton's never heard of the Pink Panthers, or anything like it, but he can follow the gist of it all the same. Some sort of gang initiation. "So he was trying to kidnap you to force you to help him cheat on his entrance exam?"

And Keller's words earlier, about having a proposition, the same proposition as the kidnapper, snap into place.

"And I'm guessing you want Neal to help you cheat on your exam too, only you'll conduct your business like a normal cheat and pay for the service, is that right?"

[conning]

The other man gives a quiet snort. "Try again, limey. I'm already in."

That's when it clicks for Neal. "You want me to join them? You. Want me. To join a crew that you're on."

"There you go. You got there in the end." Another swig from the beer before he sets the half-empty bottle on the table. "Come on, boys. Come sit down, have a drink, Caffrey can make us some breakfast, we'll hash it out."

[pharadyne]

Since Keller appears to be here to woo Neal and not murder him, at least right now, Norton starts looking around for his clothes rather than his pistol. Although if he finds his pistol along the way, that would be dolly.

"You've not mentioned why Neal should want to join your club in the first place."