A/N: See the end of the chapter for a list of the Burke and Caffrey family members and how they are related to Peter and Neal.
Wednesday evening. December 15, 2004.
Neal Caffrey sat at his dining table, editing his paper for Professor Sherkov's graduate seminar on Dutch baroque painting. The semester ended on Friday, and there wasn't much time left to polish the paper.
He had to admit, he'd had doubts over the summer that he could handle attending Columbia while working for the FBI. Now he was about to wrap up his first semester with a brilliant analysis of Rembrandt's technique. All he needed was one night with no interruptions.
He was tweaking the wording of the paper's intro when he heard Mozzie's distinctive knock. Back to iambic pentameter again. Neal suppressed a sigh. "Come in."
Mozzie burst in, full of excitement about his upcoming trip. In the morning he'd leave for Hawaii, where he would be conspiring with his latest business partner. It sounded mostly legal, which had been a relief for Neal. Now he didn't have the quandary of whether his loyalties belonged to the FBI or to his friend.
At first it seemed Mozz had simply dropped in to say goodbye. Even though Neal planned to spend Christmas and New Year's in Hawaii, it was unlikely they'd run into each other in the next few weeks. Neal would spend his time on Oahu, and Mozzie's ventures would take him to a different island. But before Mozzie left he grew more serious and said, "It's been a year."
Now Neal really did sigh. He'd hoped Mozz would forget it was the anniversary of his first day working for the FBI. Mozzie hadn't been thrilled about that change in Neal's life last December, but had decided it was a chance to get inside the Bureau and learn how they worked. He'd fully expected Neal to become bored or disillusioned and leave before a year had passed.
"One year ago today you sold your soul to the suits."
"Yeah, I remember. Peter mentioned it in the morning briefing, although he phrased it somewhat differently," Neal said. "It's also the anniversary of him being promoted into his role of leader of the Manhattan White Collar division."
"No plans to leave?"
"No," Neal said, wanting to shut down this line of inquiry. "I'm good at my job, and I like it." He stood up to have more freedom to gesture as he made his point. "Soon I'm going on a vacation, Mozz. A real vacation. No need to come up with another alias. No fears that the local police might recognize me from a wanted poster. We're talking complete and total relaxation."
"You don't miss it at all? The excitement, the rush of the job? Joining a crew and learning new skills from them?"
"No, I don't," Neal insisted. "I get all the excitement I need from my cases at work, and I'm learning new things all the time at Columbia."
"But you're confined to New York with this job. You used to go to Europe on a whim, immerse yourself in the culture and languages. You can't tell me dinner in Little Italy is the same as a week in Rome."
"When I'm done with school I'll have time to travel again. My classes make up for it. Instead of immersing myself in Paris, I'm immersing myself in great art."
After Mozzie left, Neal struggled to concentrate on his paper. He had to admit he'd exaggerated a bit in his responses. His cases could be exciting, but between the times he went undercover, there were mortgage fraud cases which could set records for inducing boredom. And he did worry that his language skills were growing rusty. Sure, every few months a case came along that allowed him to speak another language, but in most instances it was only for a few minutes. That couldn't compare to the times he'd gone days without speaking a word of English.
And his most recent foreign language experience? The last several days there'd been a Hispanic construction crew arriving every morning as he left for work. June had hired them to remodel the bathroom in the loft Neal rented – a truly generous Christmas gift to her tenant. Unlike his kitchen, where the vintage appliances were charming, the bathroom had been the victim of a 1970s era remodel, complete with an avocado green sink. The work was almost done now, and it looked fantastic. Mostly Neal had stayed out of the crew's way, but he did overhear a few snatches of conversation in Spanish.
What a change from the years before he joined the FBI. In those days he'd picked up new languages and increased his fluency in the ones he already knew. He'd traveled extensively, experiencing languages in the cultures from which they sprang. He'd enjoyed being a citizen of the world.
But running from the law hadn't been fun, he reminded himself. He needed to stop thinking about those days, and focus on his paper instead.
Sunday evening. December 19, 2004.
Neal left the Aloha Emporium much happier than he'd been on Wednesday. His final papers and projects were all turned in, and his musings about growing rusty with languages had resulted in a brainstorm on Thursday night. He'd spent the entire weekend working on the murals he'd agreed to paint for the Emporium. By doing the work in their shop during business hours, Neal was able to spend substantial time in conversation with the employees, receiving an immersion into Hawaiian language and culture. No one was going to mistake him for a native when he got to Honolulu, but picking up the basics of a new language was a pleasure he had been happy to indulge in.
I've missed this, he thought as he pulled on his winter coat and trudged outside. Not that he could tell anyone, of course. The people in his new, law-abiding life would be concerned to hear he found something missing. They'd worry that he was getting bored, being tempted to return to his old ways.
He'd planned to walk to the subway station, but it was freezing outside. The rain wasn't quite sleet, but it was so cold it stung when it hit him. Seeing a taxi approach, he hailed it and slid gratefully into its warmth as he gave the driver his address on Riverside Drive.
"Mind if I play the radio?" the driver asked.
Neal shrugged and said without thinking, "I like music." A moment later he felt a twinge of regret as the song "Peace and Joy" filled the taxi.
Last December, Neal met former rock star Michael Darling, Grammy-winning keyboardist and composer for 90's alternate rock group Local Devastation. Michael had written a Christmas ballad, which Neal predicted would become a hit, and he'd been right about that. The song had been released right after Thanksgiving, and now it seemed like you couldn't turn on a radio without hearing it.
What he wouldn't have predicted a year ago was that everyone listening to the song would hear Neal's voice singing it.
Over the summer, Neal and his cousins Henry and Angela had been performing as a rock group known as Urban Legend, with the goal of getting signed by Masterson Music in order to prove that the company was cheating its clients. Neal had called in a favor from Michael Darling, and as a result Urban Legend had performed at a Local Devastation reunion concert.
By December, Urban Legend should have faded from the memories of most people, if not for that holiday song. Michael Darling had encouraged them to record "Peace and Joy" if they agreed to let it be included as a bonus track on the album of the reunion concert. The album had been released in time for the holidays, and now Neal constantly heard himself harmonizing with his cousins on the radio. There'd been no escaping the teasing from his colleagues at the FBI and at Columbia.
Who would have guessed a year ago that he'd be in college? Or that his college friends would know his alias as a rock star? His life had changed more than he ever could have expected. So if he felt antsy now, looking back, that was normal, right?
Friday morning. December 24, 2004.
Peter Burke's first thought when he woke up was surprise that he'd fallen asleep. Usually he couldn't sleep on airplanes, but then again, usually he didn't travel in first class. He checked his watch and saw it was almost 6am Eastern time. The flight had left JFK shortly after midnight, so they were probably over California now. In another six hours they'd be landing in Honolulu.
His wife Elizabeth was sleeping in the window seat beside him. His parents were in the row behind them, and directly across the aisle from Peter were his brother Joe and Neal Caffrey.
As far as Peter could tell, he and Joe were the only people awake in first class. They were both morning people, and of course Joe probably had a lot on his mind. The reason they were all on this flight was that Joe was going to marry Noelle Winslow in Hawaii next week. And the reason they were flying first class was that Noelle's parents, Edmund and Irene Caffrey, had insisted on paying for the wedding guests' flights.
A wedding, even for a second marriage, was enough to make anyone nervous. When you factor in an illustrious ambassador and former movie star as your new father and mother in-law, the nerves had to escalate. As the older brother by ten years, Joe had often looked out for Peter, but this morning it felt like the roles were reversed. Peter caught Joe's eye and nodded toward Neal, sacked out in the window seat. Only twenty-five, the kid had led quite a life. He'd traveled widely under many aliases, making his way as a con artist, thief and forger. A year ago Peter had recruited Neal, convincing him to give a confession in return for immunity. It had been a risky move but had paid off. Neal was a great addition to the team, with a gift for undercover work.
When they'd first met, a feverish Neal had introduced Peter as his stepfather, and then made a joke of calling Peter Dad. It hadn't taken long to discover that Neal didn't have stellar father figures growing up. As a child Neal had been fed a fantasy about his absent father, and it turned out that Peter embodied many of the traits Neal had wanted in a dad. Soon Peter's latent paternal instincts kicked in, and Neal started to feel like a son. Who would have guessed back then that the Burkes and Caffreys truly would become family? After the wedding, Neal would actually be Peter's nephew.
Over the last year, Peter had often turned to Joe for advice. After all, Joe's daughters weren't much younger than Neal. Rosalind had recently turned twenty-two and was a senior in college, and Viola was a sophomore. Peter decided to distract his brother from wedding nerves by asking, "Did Neal give you any indication of what's bothering him? I thought he'd be more excited about this vacation. In fact I could swear he was at first, but in the last few days I started to worry he'd find an excuse to stay home."
Joe shook his head. "Have you tried asking him?"
"I wish it were that easy. When something's eating at Neal, his response is to deny it. He's an expert at evasion."
"Even if he evades, his reaction to a direct question might tell you something," Joe suggested. "Remember, he's not The New York Times crossword puzzle."
"Yeah," Peter acknowledged. That comment hit a chord. Neal had said something similar shortly after being recruited by the FBI – how he was no longer a mystery for them to solve. For some reason, Peter kept returning to last December when he thought about what was up with Neal now. He just needed to figure out why. "I wish I'd said something to him earlier. My radar started pinging a week ago, but I let it go because it was just that one time. Then it started up again yesterday morning and hasn't stopped."
"You remember what was happening last week?"
"I've been wracking my brain on that topic. Someone said something, and there was this flash of dismay that crossed his face. It was gone in a moment. Both last week and yesterday, it occurred while the morning briefing was wrapping up. Lots of conversations break out as people leave the conference room to return to their desks. It's almost impossible to guess which conversation he was reacting to."
"We can trade seats when he wakes up, if you want to talk to him," Joe offered.
"No. I mean, thanks, but that won't work. He'll feel trapped if I confront him here in the plane. I need to approach him when he's relaxed and in an environment where he has the option of walking out if he thinks he needs space."
Joe smiled approvingly. "That's thinking like you're helping a person, not solving a crossword."
Family cast list:
Burke Family: Peter and his wife Elizabeth. Peter's parents Luke & Betty. Peter's brother Joe, and Joe's daughters Rosalind and Viola.
Caffrey Family: Neal's grandparents Edmund and Irene (Dor & Dressa). Their children David, Noelle and Meredith. David's wife Paige and their daughter Angela. Noelle's ex-husband Robert Winslow and their son Henry. Robert's father Graham and stepmother Julia.