Callbacks to all the various times Peter has handcuffed Neal. A series of shorts about Neal, Peter, and in one, Sara. Complete with heaping tablespoons of angst, hurt, comfort, and caring.

No slash, just deep friendship. but a lot more intimacy than your average bromance. Just like White Collar itself. That said, I don't even like slash, and I'd be tempted to ship Neal and Peter. So if you do ship the two, I imagine you'll enjoy these.

Neal sat in the FBI surveillance van, playing with a pair of handcuffs. He knew how to use them, how to escape them, and most of all, what it felt like to wear them. There was still a fascination, mostly because of how emotionally loaded they were.

He didn't dodge Peter's amused glance. The agent found Neal playing with handcuffs as entertainingly ironic as Neal did, but underneath it were many of the reasons to love his FBI overlord. Sharp intelligence and perception. Deep kindness and empathy. Uncorruptible authority. Love of life, his own life, as lived.

He swung the ratcheted bar around and clicked the cuff closed around open air. When Peter sipped from his paper coffee cup, Neal grinned.

Ahh, inspiration.

He whipped his arm out and snapped the cuff around Peter's coffee cup.

Peter startled and glared at him, his eyes twinkling with humor at the exact same time. How that was humanly possible, Neal would like to know one day. "I forgot what a delight you are when you're bored," said Peter dryly, unshackling his coffee.

Neal swiped them away. "Your fault for forcing me to watch Big Brother: FBI. Seriously, the programming was better in prison."

"Have I ever told you how much I dream of the day your anklet has an electric shock function?" asked Peter.

Neal relaxed back against the wall of the van, glared at Peter, and sipped at his own coffee.

As much as Peter might torment him, tease him about the blasted anklet, and threaten to return him to prison, he never crossed over to emotionally painful territory. The tracker was open season. They both knew how easily he could cut it and run, which made it less of a restraint and more of a symbol of loyalty.

It stung, having it put back on after an off-anklet op. It frustrated his plans, embarrassed him, and could really mess with the drape of a good pair of pants.

But most importantly it had allowed him out of prison, saved his life repeatedly, and brought him the truest friendship he'd known.

"Is it weird that I kind of want to be the one to cuff one of our suspects sometime?" Neal asked, tossing them back up on the bench where he'd found them.

"Yes."

"I think it'd be fun. Especially if it were, say, Adler."

"Catching bad guys is about as exhilarating as it gets," said Peter. "You don't get to touch those until you know the difference between catching and hurting."

Handcuffs could hurt. Peter knew that, and in all the many times he'd used them on Neil, it had always been with care and respect for his dignity.