This is another White Collar/Mag Seven ATF fic. It's very rough, just off the top of my head for now. If I write more, I'll pretty it all up [g]
“I’ll get it,” Peter told Elle at the sound of the doorbell. “Just make sure he doesn’t cheat while I’m gone.” He pointed at Neal, who had a way too innocent look on his face.
Peter just grinned at Neal’s mouthed, I’d never, as he walked to the front door. Somehow, it had become a weekly habit for Neal to come to dinner and play a board game with them. Tonight, it was Monopoly. It had been Elle’s idea that they reach out to Neal. She felt that if he developed bonds of friendship with them, he’d be less likely to fall off the wagon legal wise. At first, Peter hadn’t been to sure about the idea, but his wife usually got what she wanted. And Peter now had to admit he looked forward to their weekly dinners.
The doorbell rang again just as Peter reached for the doorknob. “Keep your pants on,” he muttered, pulling it open to reveal a badge, and three determined looking men. The one with the badge was dressed in black, right down to his boots and Peter had the strange mental image of high noon in a Western. The only thing missing was a cheroot and a cowboy hat.
“I’m Special Agent in Charge Chris Larabee, ATF,” the man in black informed him. He snapped his I.D. wallet shut and shoved it in his coat pocket. “Agents Wilmington and Tanner.” He jerked his head back at the two men behind him.
“Peter Burke, but you already knew that. Come in.” Closing the door behind them, Peter crossed his arms. “And what can I do for the ATF?”
Larabee pulled some papers from his inner coat pocket, handing them to Peter. “You can give me Caffrey. It’s all there.” He pointed to the papers Peter was now furiously reading over.
“Now wait just a minute—“
Chris cut him off. “One of my agents has gone missing and I need Caffrey to help me get him back.”
Suddenly, Neal was next to him. “What happened to Ezra?” he demanded, sounding more worried than Peter had ever heard him.