abrightboy | Happily Ever After AU

abrightboy

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From:

conning

A soft chuckle. “Eggs, roast or seared fish, Hollandaise sauce, consommé. To paraphrase Julia Child, a chef that can’t perfectly roast a chicken is no chef. That’s on the primarily European side. If you’re looking at Cantonese cooking, one of the primaries is congee, along with stir-fried bean sprouts. Vietnamese chefs can take particular pride in their tableside nuoc mam, which is essentially a dipping sauce prepared right before the meal. Being good, seeing how good someone is, it’s not about how complicated they can make something. It’s about how patient they are, and their focus on getting the simple things just right.”

From:

abrightboy

“I bet you can roast a chicken,” Malcolm tells him. “Do you need something besides eggs and toast?”

From:

conning

“Perfectly,” Neal says haughtily, then smiles. “No, I think that will do it for me, Chef Bright.”

He kisses the back of Malcolm’s neck again before letting him have control of the spatula back.

Neal doesn’t want to bring Martin’s presence into this conversation, but he’s also desperately curious what Malcolm thinks the man could want to talk about.

The way he hovers in Malcolm’s space a moment longer without doing anything in particular before he steps to the side to get plates probably gives his hesitation away.

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm lifts the pan off the heat, glancing over just in time to see Neal’s hesitation, though he isn’t sure how to read it.

“Is everything okay? Oh! I didn’t put the toast in yet. The eggs are going to get cold, right?” That must be it.

From:

conning

Neal lets that be it. He's not going to take a single moment of happiness away from Malcolm that he has some ability to preserve.

He notices Malcolm going quiet on the way to Claremont, retreating internally the way he does sometimes, and he reaches over to take Malcolm's hand. "Do you want me in the room or no?"

Edited Date: 17 Mar 2022 23:52 (UTC)

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm almost startles when Neal speaks, but he clutches Neal's fingers.

"Come with me," he says.

Like he usually does, he squeezes Neal's hand then lets go as they walk through the first door to Martin's cell.

As they walk into the cell, Malcolm stops short when he see Jessica seated there, just on the visitors' side of the red line.

"What is this?" he asks.

"We could ask you the same question; I don't remember inviting your plus one," Martin tells him.

From:

conning

"You didn't," Neal says evenly. "Malcolm did."

He lifts a hand to brush the small of Malcolm's back gently, an unobtrusive gesture of support.

From:

abrightboy

"What did you call me here for?" Malcolm demands.

Jessica looks at Martin, tilting her head towards Malcolm. Martin gives her a little shrug. She gives him a look, then turns a hundred watt smile on her son.

"We - your father and I - were thinking that... maybe it's time to tell Ainsley the truth."

"No," Malcolm says immediately. "Her mind is protecting her..."

"But she may start to remember things soon," Martin points out, "and imagine the effect on the psyche of being lied to about something as seismic as murder."

From:

conning

"Imagine," Neal drawls, sharply sarcastic. He lifts his hand to rest it against Malcolm's back again. He gives Malcolm an uncertain look, one that's equal parts worry and... agreement with Martin and Jessica. Which is distinctly uncomfortable.

He pauses, not sure if he has the right to an opinion here, but he finally, gently, says, "But... wouldn't it be better if she knows what she's remembering, if and when she starts to?"

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm looks at him, then looks at his parents, who look more pleased than he likes.

"No. No."

"You know, if you're on board with overlooking murder, I could have used some of that energy back in '98," Martin drawls.

"Do you really think she wants to know that she's a cold blooded killer? I wish I didn't know," Malcolm says, his voice rising. "I wish I didn't know about you!" he shouts sharply, then turns and bangs on the door, not looking back at any of them as he storms out.

"Well," Martin says to Neal. "That was nice while it lasted, huh?"

From:

conning

Neal gives him an impatient look and walks out after Malcolm, jogging a little to catch up once he’s out of sight from Martin and Jessica. His heart is in his throat even though it’s not much of a jog.

“Malcolm, wait—please?” He catches Malcolm’s hand tentatively. “I don’t think you’re wrong, I don’t, I just…”

And he trails off at that. Neal Caffrey, advocating for honesty. Suddenly he feels like a hypocrite.

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm stops when Neal touches him, looking up for a moment and then down.

"Look, maybe I never handled it right, okay? But she stabbed a man in cold blood. I couldn't just let...." He puts a hand to his head, but it's shaking and he stuffs it in his pocket instead. "I'll talk to her. I will."

From:

conning

Neal moves around in front of him, still holding one hand and reaching out to gently take the wrist of Malcolm’s hidden hand. Something in Neal twists painfully at Malcolm’s instinct to tuck his tremor out of sight. “You did what you had to. You protected her, and your family, you did do the right thing, it was the only thing you could have done.”

He lifts both hands to brush Malcolm’s cheeks with his thumbs. “But it’s not the only thing you can do now. You’re not alone, not this time, and neither is she. You should be the one to talk to her about it. You were there. They weren’t.”

Tentative, not sure if Malcolm will pull away, Neal leans in to kiss him.

From:

abrightboy

He doesn’t pull away. When it breaks, he looks a little deflated.

“Once she knows, she has to live with it. With what she did. She can never un-know it. She can never be who she used to be ever again.”

From:

conning

Neal bites his lip. "I know. Believe me. I understand, at least a little."

From:

abrightboy

“Why does everyone want to do that to her?” Malcolm asks. It’s not a guilt trip; he’s really asking.

From:

conning

It still bites into one of Neal's small, guilty places. For a second he wants to backpedal, say Malcolm is right and that Neal changed his mind, but...

"Because... it happened," he says softly. He hesitates another moment, looks down. "It's like when Ellen told me who my dad was, who he really was, before I could enroll in the police academy and find out the hard way. I didn't want to know it, sometimes I still wish I didn't, but... it's better to know than to believe a lie when everyone else knows the truth."

From:

abrightboy

He wants to say that everyone doesn't know, but everyone who counts does. The whole family knows, except for her.

Finally he nods.

"Okay."

He turns and heads out of the hospital, reaching the sidewalk to hail a cab.

The weight lifts a little when he receives a text. A case. He looks at Neal. "We have a case."

He gives the taxi the address.

From:

conning

Neal holds Malcolm's hand all the way there. He can't think of anything to say. He wants to, though. It distracts him from their neighborhood--until they pull to a stop.

"...The Canmere Hotel? There's a case in the Canmere?" Neal spares a moment to think about how odd it is that he's perking up over one of Malcolm's cases, but he can't help himself.

From:

abrightboy

"I heard Duke Ellington used to stay here," Malcolm tells him as they get out of the car. He looks up at the building then heads inside, where JT is waiting for them.

From:

conning

"That's the tip of the iceberg," Neal says, and he regales Malcolm with celebrity history and art deco factoids until JT cuts him off to lead them to the body.

(Neal does not, fortunately or unfortunately, know about the Bowery Ripper.)

From:

abrightboy

Most people don’t; it’s a serial killer deep cut.

Malcolm walks over to the body as JT points out to Neal “not everyone shares your appreciation of architecture. He was an architect.”

“Stabbed in the eyes with the pointy circle thing.”

“It’s called a ball bearing compass,” JT supplies.

Malcolm looks at him curiously.

“I liked math class.”

“It’s his,” Dani tells them. “It has his initials engraved in it.”

“So the killer didn’t bring his own weapon. It was a crime of opportunity,” Malcolm points out.

From:

conning

Neal grimaces a little. "They wiped off the fingerprints. Whoever they were."

That's as long as he can stand to look at the body. He shifts his attention back to their surroundings instead, following Malcolm and the others as they try to catch the developer who owns the building--and catch Ainsley catching him instead.

From:

abrightboy

“Hey,” Malcolm says, stepping over to Ainsley. “How are you?”

“Busy,” she says brusquely. “Aren’t you?”

From:

conning

Neal does not like that reply. Or that tone. He barely keeps himself from picking a fight over it, and even then it's only for Malcolm's sake. Once she's marched away again and they're heading back inside to talk to the Bolsheviks, Neal gives Malcolms hand a little squeeze.

"How are you?"