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If Tim had to say what his favorite thing about working at the FBI was, he would almost always say probies. The fresh faced, Harvard-grad agents, straight out of training, were often either uncomfortable around him due to his “criminal” background, or they were far, far to trusting of him, making all of them incredibly easy to prank. Plus, Tim could interact with the newbies with little to no worry, knowing that all of the League of Assassins agents that had infiltrated the Bureau’s Training Division had already been found and removed, saving new trainees from league influence. Naturally, when Peter asked him to be in his office to meet the White Collar division’s newest agent, Tim found himself already planning his next prank, but still…
“Isn’t it a little weird that Peter’s having us all meet the new guy in his office?” He asked Diana and Jones, both of them also waiting for Peter and the newbie’s arrival. “I mean, usually he tries to keep me from the new agents for as long as possible. Plus, shouldn’t Hughes be the one welcoming the new guys?”
“Neal’s got a point,” Jones agreed with him. “It’s also strange that there’s only the one guy, usually we’d be getting a whole batch of fresh recruits.”
“The way I heard it, the guy’s some sort of genius analyst.” Diana weighed in. “Most of the probies we get are field agents, but this guy’s not, apparently he had some sort of health problems when he was a kid. Anyways, he’s supposed to be some sort of certified genius, he’s great with computers and allegedly he has a tendency to come up with these crazy, out-there plans that somehow always work. I think Peter’s having us meet with him because he wants to put him on our team.”
“I thought our team had a prerequisite of a minimum of four years jail time.” Tim joked.
“That was just you, buddy.” Jones put a hand on his shoulder, grinning along.
“Are you saying Peter lied to me?” Tim feigned shock while the two agents nodded solemnly. “I’ll never forgive him!”
Just a few seconds later, Peter was walking into the bullpen with the new agent. From where he sat, leaned against Peter’s desk, Tim couldn’t make out many of the agents details. He was bald and a pair of thick glasses that covered up his brown eyes. He wasn’t wearing the classic, stuffy suit that Tim had come to expect from agents and board members alike, instead he wore a wrinkled button down, a pair of khakis, a dark green cardigan, and a ratty old computer bag slung over his shoulder—definitely not an improvement, but at least he was distinctive. The two of them got closer and finally entered the office, Tim got a better look at the new agents face, and instantly felt his stomach drop.
“And this is the team I was telling you so much about,” Peter told the agent, his smile showing the clear pride he had for his team. The agent looked around the room, Tim let himself hope for a moment that he hadn’t been recognized. “I know we’re a bit unconventional, but I have high hopes that you’ll adapt quickly to the way we work.”
“Oh, uh…” The agent jolted slightly like he’d been snapped out of a trance. He glanced quickly back at Peter before locking his eyes firmly onto Tim, definitely recognizing him. “Yes, I’m sure I’ll adjust. I look forward to working with all of you.”
“And we look forward to working with you.” Diana grinned and offered a hand to shake. “Welcome aboard, Agent Ives.”
Tim felt frozen, watching the cheery introductions happening all around him. There was no way that Ives wouldn’t out him, no way he wouldn’t have to burn Caffrey after this. He’d lose his chance to free the FBI of League influence, lose the life he had built for himself in his time here, he’d lose the plausible deniability that every annual birthday card and occasional text sent between him and Ives over the years was nothing more than maintaining a cover, a friendship built on lies.
“This is Neal Caffrey,” Peter introduced him, Tim forced his shoulders to relax and formed his face into a lazy grin. “He’s our CI. He’s the most trustworthy con artist you’ll ever meet, though I would be prepared for a couple of pranks here and there.”
“Slander!” Tim declared, looking anywhere but his old friend. “Honestly, Peter, with everything you say about me, you’d think that you’re the one that lies professionally.”
“Well, either way, I’m sure we’ll work great together.” Ives laughed softly and reached out his hand, Tim stared for a moment before taking it. “Don’t you agree, Neal?”
“I…” Tim couldn’t understand why Ives wasn’t just outing him then and there, but his friend had always been one of the smartest people he knew, plus, Diana had mentioned something about him making plans. There was something to the look in Sebastian’s eye, maybe the way that the light reflected off of his glasses, that told Tim that he’d be caught in some sort of web. His best bet was to play along. “Yes, I think we’ll work great together.”
—
Somehow, Ives had gotten him to go out to lunch with him. Tim still wasn’t 100% positive on how that happened, but as it stood, he was now on a bench, sitting next to Ives, eating a damn good chicken salad sandwich from the bagel shop two blocks up from the office. Despite the tension—and the perfectly tailored vintage suit—it almost felt like they were back in middle school, eating lunch on one of they’re days off before heading to the arcade or skate park or movie theater, something simple and childish. Instead, there was a heavy question weighing over them, one that Tim was just waiting for Ives to ask.
“So…” Ives started, with all the awkwardness of a homeschooled, professional nerd. “Neal Caffrey, huh?”
“Yes, I’m Neal Caffrey.” Tim stared down at the wrapper that his sandwich had come in, now-empty and crumpled in his lap. “Look, Ives, I know you probably have to turn me-“
“Nope,” Ives snapped his fingers in front of his face and cut him off decisively. “I’m not gonna turn you in, not even gonna question it.”
“I… what?” Tim looked back at his friend, confusion probably screaming on his face.
“I learned a long time ago, to never question any of your bullshit. And this?” Ives poked and the fedora sitting crooked on Tim’s head. “This is exactly the kind of shit you would pull. I mean, international art thief? I don’t know why I’m not surprised, but I’m not. You could tell me that you were Catwoman at this point and I’d probably believe you.”
“Alleged international art thief.” Tim corrected, not bothering to hide the smile that was spreading across his face. “And I’m not Catwoman, she only taught me a few tricks.”
“Oh, of course she did, my bad.” Ives chuckled and Tim found himself laughing along with him. It had been a while since Tim let himself genuinely laugh. “Really, man, I’m just glad you’re alright. It’s been like, seven years since anyone’s actually heard from you. Obviously there’s been press conferences and publicity stuff, but y‘know, Hudson’s got a theory that you Wayne’s have shapeshifters and like, people who get intense plastic surgery to take your place for stuff like that.”
“Well, that’s about as crazy as the heir to Drake Industries running off to become a bond forger and alleged art thief.” Tim’s laughter turned slightly nervous, Hudson’s conspiracies had always been a bit too close to the truth—he’d nearly had a heart attack when he heard Hud explaining, in detail, what the Court of Owls was, and how Talons were created.
“Seriously, dude, bond forgery?” Ives raised his eyebrow, like forging incredibly valuable, unforgeable bonds was somehow not super cool and badass.
“Hey, I stand by that.” Tim raised his hands in defense. “Even if it was what I got arrested for.”
“Oh, please, as if you actually spent any time in prison. You probably let them think you were in there while you actually wandered free.” Ives rolled his eyes, but after a few moments Tim’s silence became more telling. “Dear lord, man, I was joking! I always said you were a real life rogue, but this takes the cake, holy shit!”
“Oh my god, I haven’t thought about Warlocks and Warriors in years!” Ives let out a sound of mock offense at his declaration.
“I’m sorry,” he held a hand to his chest, clutching pearls that he wasn’t wearing. “Are you saying that my favorite GM is out of practice?”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit busy.” Tim gestured to the tracker around his ankle.
“With what, alleged theft and not being in prison? I think you could’ve found time to let yourself nerd out.” Ives fiddled with the placement of his glasses, deep in thought—it was a tick he developed when they were eleven and one that he clearly never grew out of. He seemed to work out whatever problem he’d been turning over in his head by the time he spoke up again. “Alright, I think I know what I want to do with my blackmail material.”
“Oh, you’re blackmailing me now?” Tim laughed, slightly in shock.
“Oh yeah, I’ll tell your buddy Peter all about how you’re secretly a runaway rich-boy playing at thief, unless…” Ives took a dramatic pause and gestured for Tim to speak. Tim rolled his eyes, knowing exactly where they were in the script.
“Unless?” He dragged the word out, mimicking the way the Ives had said it. His response elicited a huge grin from his dorky friend.
“I’ll tell them everything unless we set up a regular W&W session. I know a few other agents who would love to get in on this.” Ives was smiling like he’d been hit by Joker gas, Tim was pretty sure we was too. The idea of playing W&W again was so novel, but just the thought made him start shaking with excitement. “Plus, I want at least a monthly movie night. If you’ve been too busy for W&W, then I bet you haven’t even seen the new Star Wars movies.”
“I heard they sucked.” Tim argued.
“Oh, they did,” Ives agreed, “but it’s still Star Wars.”
“Y’know what? You drive a hard bargain Agent Ives, but you’ve got yourself a deal.” Tim and Ives shook hands, made an attempt at an old secret handshake they made up when they were thirteen (they failed horribly, pretty much just slapping their hands and fists together), and headed back to the office, where no agent would be any the wiser of the little deal they had going on.
——
Peter was relatively certain that Neal and Ives had some sort of little deal going on. It was obvious to anyone who was looking that they knew each other better than they were letting on, they shared a certain familiarity that Neal wouldn’t allow himself to show around just anyone. Not to mention the secretive looks they would always share as the week came to a close, or the strange jokes that only the two of them ever seemed to understand. At first he thought the two of them were secretly dating—with the way they occasionally snuck off to lunch together and talked about evening plans when they thought no one was listening—but that theory was dismissed when he noticed that there were a couple of other new agents in on it, Agent Le from Public Corruption and Agent Graves from Cyber Crimes both seemed to be giving Neal the same conspiratorial looks, along with Mozzie and, most notably, El.
He was almost certain there were others involved too. Peter sometimes heard them talking about people he’d never heard of before. There was someone named Nina Mossbeam and another person they would only call Grimm. Peter couldn’t quite figure out how these people were involved, if they were on Neal and Ives’ side or not. One moment they would be singing their praises, El quietly mumbling that she “loves Odilia more than anything in the world, she is the perfect person, I would do anything to protect her.” The next they would act like these people were nuisances at best, Agent Le pinching the bridge of her nose as she whispered to Graves that “honestly, Hugo might literally be the dumbest person ever, I’m shocked he hasn’t gotten himself killed running his mouth like that.”
Peter wanted to trust his partner, trust the young agents, trust his wife for god’s sake (Mozzie, well… he wouldn’t have said he’d trusted Mozzie in the first place), but slowly it was starting to add up to be too much. Ever since Agent Ives had arrived, things had been so different, Neal had been hiding things again , even El had started sneaking around every weekend for a “dinner date” at June’s that he apparently wasn’t invited to. Ives was obviously amazing at his job, the young analyst had done great work since he’d started in the White Collar Division, and he and Neal seemed to get along fantastically, but none of that changed that it seemed like he was a bad influence on those around him.
So here Peter was, standing outside Neal’s apartment building, debating how huge an invasion of privacy this was. Neal’s tracking data had confirmed that this was at least where he was during the weekly appointments that El had been keeping with him, he still felt a little bit bad about checking instead of just taking their word for it. He finally bit the bullet and knocked, a few seconds later coming face to face with June, who smiled fondly at him.
“They’re all in the dining room.” She gestured to the big room just down the hall. It was strange, Peter thought, whenever Neal brought guests over he almost always kept them in the apartment part of the building, keeping his business away from June and her family. Peter thanked June and headed down the hall, following the noise of cheerful chatter and occasional bursts of loud laughter. Peter finally rounded the corner to see the group sitting around June’s table with what looked like an elaborate map set out in front of them, complete with tiny figures of people and monsters and… robots? El was sat next to Mozzie, the two of them whispering back and forth and clearly plotting something, Graves and Le sat across from them, pointing out something on the board and starting to talk strategy, Ives was at one end of the table, rolling one of the dice in front of him while moving one of the figures deeper into the map, and Neal was at the opposite end, laced fingers hiding a huge smile, creating a very clear image with the tri-fold board that sat up in front of him.
Peter had never personally played Warlocks and Warriors, but El had been trying for years to get him into it. She’d loved the game in college, Peter had seen pictures of her and her friends playing and dressing up as their characters, when she saw her old roommates they would still sometimes play a short session in their living room, or they would play over call on special occasions. He’d learned enough about W&W, just by right of being married to El, to be able to recognize a game when it was happening in front of him. It was obvious that the five players were all absorbed in the battle, the battle that Neal was controlling as the GM. That was easily the most shocking thing about this, it was something he would’ve expected from El, or Mozzie, or probably Ives, but Neal? Neal Caffrey? The man who Peter had once literally seen charm a guard out of his uniform? There was no way.
“Alright, Hugo, you’re up.” Neal said, as if just to prove him wrong. El looked up from whatever she was planning with Mozzie, and reaching out to grab the figure of an big, great sword wielding character, presumably herself.
“Okay, so all the slimes around me are gone now, right?” She asked looking up to Neal for confirmation.
“Yep, Odilia took out the last of ‘em.” He nodded. “You’ve just got the Amalgam over by Sid and Avanth the Infector all the way across the ravine.”
“Oh, shit, I forgot Mr. Gross was over there.” Le groaned as Neal pointed to the bright robed spell caster, surrounded by what looked like magic goo, that was across a clear break in the map from all the other figures.
“Well, Sid and their bots can probably handle Amalgam, so time for McNasty over there.” El looked carefully at the board before her face broke out into a wide grin. “So…. How wide would you say this ravine is?”
“El, no.” Ives said desperately from his seat watching this unfold.
“El, yes.” She brushed him off, the manic joy in her eyes burrowing deep into Neal’s exhausted resignation.
“The ravine is around twenty feet wide and over a hundred feet deep.” He sighed, everyone around the room knowing exactly what was coming next.
“You all, by way of the psychic headband that Sid made me, hear a tiny voice in the backs of your heads, that sounds shockingly like Hugo.” El was truly grinning like a madwoman as she looked around at the tortured faces in the room. “It’s Hugo’s voice, and he says ‘Yeah, I could jump that far.’”
The room erupted into chaos around her, her fellow players yelling at her to reconsider. It was then that Peter finally caught Neal’s eyes, seeing as the conman simply mouthed the word ‘help,’ before shrugging, because he had learned a long time ago that once El decided she was going to do something, she was going to do it. Neal sighed before calling the room back to order.
“Okay, okay, I just… I think I have to look something up, one second.” Neal pulled out his phone, typing something and looked over the information he found. “Apparently, the world record for long jumping is 8.95 meters, which is about thirty feet. Plus, that’s for humans, there would probably be a different standard for Goliaths like Hugo…”
“No way are you actually letting her do this.” Graves and the rest of the group stared at Neal in shock.
“I’m just saying I think it might be doable, with the right roll.” Neal conceded and El cheered.
“Neal, people can’t just clear twenty foot gaps.” Mozzie argued.
“I’m from Gotham and trust me, they definitely can.” Ives shrugged and the rest of the tabled accepted it as though that was a perfectly normal thing to say.
“The rules lawyer has spoken.” Neal ended the argument and turned back to El. “I’m gonna say with an eighteen or higher you’ll be able to jump and grab the opposite cliff face, then use the rest of your turn to climb the rest of the way up. Twenty-five or higher you can jump, grab the opposite ledge, pull yourself up, and take your actions—jumping will just count as your movement. If you get a thirty or higher you’ll be able to just clean jump across, land on your feet, and I’m gonna give you advantage on any attack you make after that because I can promise that Avanth will not be prepared for any of that.”
“Okay, sounds fair.” El nodded, pulling a twenty sided die from the bag in front of her. “And this is athletics?”
“Yes, so you will have advantage.” Tim confirmed. El thanked him before dropping her die into the tower in front of her and wincing.
“Okay, that’s not actually that bad, but the first one’s a sixteen. And my second one is…” she picked up the die and dropped it in the tower again. She took one look at the number that was face up and groaned, burying her head in her hands. Mozzie leaned over to check as well and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder when he saw the results. She mumbled the words into her hands, half sighing, half laughing. “Nat one.”
“That’s real rough, buddy.” Neal nodded sympathetically before starting to rifle through his own dice. “I don’t have enough here… can everyone lend me some D6s? I need six more.”
“Six!” Le exclaimed, tossing her own dice into the pile that Neal was collecting.
“Well, Hugo is falling a hundred feet, so yeah, 10D6 bludgeoning.” Neal shrugged as he shook the outrageous number of dice that were cupped in his hands. He dropped them on the table with an awful cacophonous crash.
“You are ice cold, my man,” Ives laughed at the con man’s demeanor. “Absolutely no mercy.”
“This world shows you no mercy, nor will I.” Neal deadpanned, causing Ives to only laugh harder. He quickly turned back to his relaxed smile when he turned back to El, who was still laughing at her own failure. “That’s gonna be fifty-two bludgeoning damage for Hugo.”
“It’s halved because he’s raging, right?” Graves pointed out, Neal nodded in agreement.
“Oh thanks for pointing that out,” El said. “Now instead of being unconscious at the bottom of a ravine, I’m at three HP at the bottom of a ravine.”
“Cool,” Neal laughs a little, a laugh so genuine it throws Peter for a moment. “So you guys all hear ‘Yeah, I could jump that far.’ Then, you see Hugo run, jump, and drop like a bag of rocks into the ravine. I think, yeah, now it’s Sid’s turn.”
Peter had difficulty following after that. Sid was apparently Mozzie’s character, an artificer dwarf who commanded robots to fight for them. They and Hugo were very close, so they didn’t react well to seeing him fall down a ravine. This distracted them from fighting against the Amalgam, a grotesque slime creature that was made up of what was left of Avanth’s victims. Le’s character, Grimm, a werewolf Druid, was able to step in to help the fight while Graves’ character Nina, made her way down the ravine to help heal Hugo. That left Odilia, Ives’ character, to cast fly on herself to confront Avanth. It turned out that Avanth wasn’t really there, but another slime in his form. It was another one of the Infector’s tricks to distract them while they searched for the cure to the plague that was spreading across their land. At least, that’s how El explained it to him later.
Peter watched Neal and Ives cleaning up. He hadn’t just been paranoid, the two of them really did move like they knew each other, but that was a question for another day. Tonight Peter wanted to focus on the genuine smile that his partner wore. Not his con-smile, not a mischievous smirk, but a real, honest, involuntary smile. It was the kind of thing that people only got from doing something they loved.
“So,” Peter slid up next to him, picking up boxes of minis to help carry up to the apartment upstairs. “Warlocks and Warriors. Not really the type of thing I would’ve pinned you for, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense.”
“Oh yeah?” Neal chuckled.
“Yeah,” Peter nodded at him. Looking at his partner now, this was probably the most he’d ever seen of him. There was no hat, no grin, no con, it was just two friends having a conversation. “I should’ve known from the start you were a giant nerd.”
“Oh, Burke, you should totally come to our movie night!” Ives cut in, he was carrying up a bunch of rule books, as well as a couple of thick binders that had been labeled “notes” in Neal’s handwriting. “We could invite Berrigan and Jones too, have a whole team bonding thing while watching the TRON movies.”
“Seriously, Ives,” Neal rolled his eyes while he laughed and honestly to goodness snorted. “I don’t get why we keep having a movie night if you’re gonna insist on watching sci-fi movies that you don’t like.”
“So that I can complain, obviously.” Ives dropped the books on Neal’s counter and pushed to sit up there himself. “What do you say, Burke, you in?”
“Y’know what?” Peter couldn’t help but smile at how dorky and how real Neal seemed in this moment. He wanted to see more of that. “Yeah, count me in.”