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Death Imitates Art

Summary:

There was nothing new about tracking down the source of forged paintings, in fact it's what the FBI's White Collar unit did best, but when a series of murders occur in which the bodies are displayed in tandem with each piece that pops up, it's up to Agent Peter Burke and Neal Caffrey to team up with NYPD's Gil Arroyo and Malcolm Bright to solve the mystery. OR the crossover that was begging to be written. Obviously I'm messing with the timelines here a bit on the WC side.

Notes:

Malcolm, in the most minimal way, began to remind me of Neal so I started watching White Collar again and started noticing some similarities. That inspired me to try this out and so far it's been really fun. I have a general idea about how I want this to run, I just need the motivation to get it there. Also as a side note, as much as I try Neal and Malcolm aren't going to click with each other very well, there will be a point when they do but I guarantee you it's not going to be until they're both in danger and unsupervised.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Meeting the Team

Chapter Text

When the first bodies are found, the responding officers would later state that it felt like the nightmare version of walking into the middle of a Highschool theater production. The room is barren short of a table placed dead center of the room lit by a single spotlight, the cloth covering and plates perfectly placed as if inviting outsiders into the meal. There are two bodies sat at either side. The scene is dementedly domestic. One is dressed in a perfectly pressed grey suit straight out of the 20's, hair slicked back and leant forward in a chair with his head on his palm as if engaged in an interesting conversation with the dead woman across the table. The woman sits with her legs politely crossed at the ankles, lips painted red and a cloche hat sitting over a neatly trimmed bob cut. They are both in the early stages of decay. It doesn't take long before they are both identified as recently missing people, one's that had apparently never met in life.

The police find two more crime scenes before a member of the currently assigned homicide team notices the similarities to works of art by the deceased Charlotte De'Muir, a French born artist that made her break after moving to Chicago in the 1910's.

It's this connection that results in the case finding it's way into the hands of Agent Peter Burke, whom had been on the trail of a forger selling knock off versions of her paintings anonymously to high brow auction houses. There wouldn't have been enough of a connection had the murders not correlated directly to the order of the paintings being sold.

This is how Peter Burke and Neal Caffrey find themselves working with Gil Arroyo and Malcolm Bright.


Neal follows close behind Peter as they enter the bullpen of the NYPD's homicide unit, he has to actively school his face into a mask of nonchalance, eyeing the room and cataloguing the worn appearance of the work spaces. This certainly isn't the brightly lit office that he's used to working in, but he supposes, thinking back to the deplorable "hotel" he'd almost been stuck living in, things could be much worse.

The majority of the detectives and officers ignore them as they pass, shoulders hunched over files and computer screens, a few engrossed in phone calls but equally busy. The dress code seems to either be street clothes or state issued uniforms, so there isn't a suit in sight. Neal has to keep from wrinkling his nose as he smells old notes of nicotine. A reminder of a time long past, when there was an ash tray on the corner of nearly every desk.

Peter stops in front of a meeting room, and Neal is so distracted that he almost runs straight into his back. He stops himself short and leans over his shoulder as Peter introduces himself to a man with salt and pepper hair wearing a turtle-neck and a worn looking suit jacket.

"You the guys they sent to take over our investigation?"

"More like assist in this case, this is more your area than ours. We just happened to be working the other side of things before they found the bodies." Peter shifts his shoulders a bit, grimacing at the mention of the murders. There was a reason he worked in White Collar crime, there was usually a lot less death involved.

"I'm lieutenant Gil Arroyo," He motions his head back behind him, "and this is my team."

Neal starts to phase out of the conversation at the mention of the others, surveying them from his spot behind Peter. There is a man built like a football player leaning back in a chair by the work table, arms crossed and frowning their way, someone Neal really wouldn't want to try and take in a fight. Further back in the room, leaning back against a wall is a woman in a red leather jacket, who he would also not want to take in a fight, but the type that he thinks, Diana might not be so upset to be pinned down by. He only takes a moment to study them, but he's more interested in the last person in the room. He's standing at the front, straight behind Gil, staring intently at the evidence board, and he sticks out like a sore thumb.

Whereas the rest of the building seems to be dressed business casual or mostly casual, this man is wearing a well fitted and expensive suit. Neal steps around Peter and makes a short beeline to him.

"You have good taste," He leans a little closer to inspect the man's jacket, "Armani? Those don't come cheap."

The man looks up at him surprised by his sudden appearance, blue eyes wide and for a second it's like looking into a warped mirror. One that softens out his features a bit and makes him shorter.

"Uh yeah...thank you." Neal sees the way his eyes flick over to Gil in question, before turning back when he realizes he's otherwise engaged, but not before spotting Peter.

"Oh, you're the White Collar crimes team they sent over? From the FBI?" he backs up a bit, standing a little taller and meets his gaze firmly, and if Neal hadn't already been briefed by Peter on the way over, he'd be confused.

"Much in the same way you're with the NYPD, if I had to guess." He offers his hand, "Neal Caffrey."

The shorter man takes his hand after pausing for a second of consideration, "Malcolm Bright."

Ah, so he was right then.

"No offense Mr. Caffrey, but you have one hell of a reputation."

"One that can be of some assistance I hope..." Neal doesn't mean to trail off but it's at that moment that he spots the crime scene photos. Peter had been kind enough beforehand to spare him the sight, but here they are on full display, ranging from close-ups of the bodies to full rooms. He turns his head away slowly, eyes taking a few seconds longer to snap back towards Malcolm. He frowns in disgust trying to brush off the chill that shoots down his spine. "...and you can just call me Neal."

Before Malcolm can reply there's an annoyed groan from the table.

"It looks like fashion week in here, if I see another person slow-walk past to ogle this guy I might just start charging at the door."

"What, are you jealous JT?" the woman at the back snips with a smirk.

"Oh hell no! And why do you look so happy huh? Skinny blue eyed dudes your type now Dani?"

Neal really doesn't miss the split second she glances at Malcolm before she flushes slightly and pushes herself off the wall.

"Kids! Sit the hell down!" Gil is back in the room in a second, hands on his hips like a disappointed father. Peter stands behind him, failing to look amused as they all sit down, especially because Dani does so with a frustrated huff.

"One hell of a team you've got here," Peter chuckles.

"Trust me when I say they're competent, it's just more like herding cats some days." Gil looks pointedly at JT and Dani in warning. Malcolm hides a smile behind his hand which quickly disappears when Gil quirks an equally unamused eyebrow his way.

"I understand the feeling." Peter mumbles, locking eyes with Neal meaningfully.

JT leans forward and gestures towards the two, "These the Feds?"

"That would be Fed, singular," Peter corrects with a small wave to detectives, "Agent Peter Burke" he then hooks his thumb towards his partner, "and that is Neal Caffrey, my CI."

"Bro you have James Bond as an informant." Neal laughs, and is surprised when Malcolm laughs too, before remembering that the other man had been FBI too at one point, he was probably familiar with his old case files as a study.

"Bonds, James Bonds," Neal flourishes dramatically, "At your service."

Gil, Dani and JT stare at him in confused silence. Peter Groans as he runs a hand over his face.

"It's what we used to call him before we knew his name."

"Care to guess what he was convicted for?" Malcolm chips in with glee.

"Convicted? There's no way a face like that would last long in lock-up." Dani leans back in her chair, raising a disbelieving eyebrow towards Neal.

"You'd be surprised." Peter deadpans, hoping to bring the conversation to a quick close. "He got collared for bond forgery, literally. We've got him on an anklet."

It's only a little satisfying to see the wind going out from under Neal's sails.

Gil takes the opportunity to step in.

"Peter, Neal, meet my team. These two are Detectives Dani Powel and JT Tarmel," They both nod as their named. "And this is Malcolm Bright, our criminal profiler and consultant."

Malcolm raises his hand in greeting, before he seems to remember something and pulls two lollipops out of his pockets, handing one to each of them. "Pina Colada?" Neal looks vaguely amused as he takes the proffered candy. "And Apple." He hands Peter a green one. Neal barks out a laugh and Peter is hit with a not very welcome sense of de-ja-vu. This is going to be a long week.

Notes:

I'm hoping to include Edrisa in the next chapter so look forward to that!