Contradiction in terms

By Ultracape

If I owned White Collar, I'd be paid for writing scripts, not unpaid for writing fanfiction.

Neal relaxed watching the clouds drift by through the skylight over his bed, his fingers grazing up and down Sara's arm as she was curled up next to him.

It had been more than two months now that they had been together, sometimes in his bed, sometimes in hers since Peter had her apartment added to the list of places Neal could travel outside his radius.

He turned to look at the beautiful and dangerous woman who shifted from being after him for the Rafael to being so sweet and at the same time sincere in telling him that what he thought of as a disaster of a date was the best date ever. He messed up and she was making him feel good, feel good in a way he didn't remember ever feeling before.

Second date, yup, he was definitely going to make this up to her. It was a wild idea and he didn't know if he'd be able to rent a cabin cruiser for a weekend. Just him and Sara, a gourmet chef as part of the crew, a weekend where no one could commandeer his date.

Maybe Mozzie could…Neal stopped his rambling abruptly. 'What am I doing,' he thought looking down at the woman in his arms who was bit by bit moving into his heart. This was going way beyond what he thought would just be a dalliance, something to keep little Neal happy before big Neal, Mozzie and a few dozen crates of Nazi loot left for parts unknown.

Sara had suddenly become part of his life, even more than that, a constant. Mozzie had already told him to put a sock on the door to warn him that the two of them would not appreciate a third wheel.

Ever since Diana and Christie had them over for dinner, he started to think of himself and Sara as a couple, thought of what they'd do together, where they might go, when they could see each other which they'd manage to do almost every night.

He fully turned now, and let his hand caress her face ever so lightly, still she roused,

"Mmmm, Neal, best man ever," she slowly murmured a smile gracing her lips before she falling back to sleep.

She was so beautiful, so strong, and so independent. "What the hell am I doing?"

Neal turned onto his back feeling a bit sick. He realized he was actively pursuing this woman while at the same time, somewhat reluctantly planning his escape. Why was he doing this to her? Well, he wasn't actually doing anything to her he reasoned to himself.

Sara, upon discovering that Neal had disappeared and that the F.B.I. was looking for him in connection with the Nazi loot would most likely scream and rant and throw a few things in rage, convinced that all she'd ever been to him was just another mark, worse, just a thing to use. She'd be angry at herself for falling for him and vow never, ever, when pigs fly and hell freezes over would she ever fall for anyone again.

'Yeah, Neal," he said to himself. 'That's not me hurting her at all, is it?" He shook his head angrily.

Sara suddenly shifted, moving herself over so that one of her legs came between his and her breasts were scrunched up next to his chest, the tip of one nipple peaking in and out from under her arm as she breathed.

It had been so long since he had anything like this, if he ever had anything like this. Sara had her life, he had his, he stole them, she found them and yet they were ying and yang, G-d she was good company. She played along, even when she didn't know why, though he'd never ask her to violate her own sense of values. She would tease him about some of his questionable activates, but never ask him for an incriminating answer, but settle for a distraction or prevarication with a knowing smile on her face. She knew who he was, better than anyone and he knew who she was and…He remembered asking Elizabeth how she knew Peter was the one.

No, no, Sara and he didn't love each other, yet. Yet? Yes, yet, he knew he was falling for her, not in the way the fiery passion he had felt for Kate. No, this was so different, this was her being there for him and him being there for her and wanting to do things to make each other smile.

Sara and he, G-d now Neal was thinking of them together as a couple, Peter and El, Sara and Neal.

Now his anger rose even as he squeezed Sara's pliant body to him and kissed her forehead, letting a tear of his fall on her hair. He didn't want to leave her. He didn't want to lose her. He didn't want to hurt her and yet he knew deep down inside that this was exactly what he'd be doing.

He hadn't considered before how much hurting her would hurt him. Neal Caffrey's crimes did not hurt people because there were never any people to hurt until now.

Now there was Sara and Peter and El, June, even Diana and Jones and even Blake had been slowly making his way into their family. Family, Peter told him he was now truly part of the family.

Neal only committed victimless crimes. No one would get hurt, ever. That's why he planned things out so carefully, that's why he paid attention to every detail. So that's what he'd do, he'd plan this so that they weren't hurt, that they'd be glad to see him go, that they wouldn't ever want to see him again.

That's what he do, so when he ran, they'd say good riddance and go on with their lives and do their best to forget which should be easy because Neal Caffrey would not exist ever again.

He'd be on some island drinking pina colladas and margaritas and living a life filled with luxury and degeneration without a care in the world except which piece of art to sell, or forge and sell next.

Neal would dead to them and they'd be dead to him and they'd live their lives as if none of them existed for each other. It wouldn't take long for them all to forget. It wouldn't take long. No, that wouldn't hurt, that wouldn't anyone's family, would it?