Title: Superman

Author: Lady Black-Malfoy

Rating: K

Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar and Peter Burke owns Neal Caffrey. Which is unfortunate for Neal but fortunate for us because if he didn't then we wouldn't have this great show!

Summary: Drabble, one-shot, Neal/Kate, Set sometime after the start of season two. Everyone has their favorite superhero. For Kate Moreau, it happened to be Superman. And Neal Caffrey happened to look a bit like the Man of Steel, at least in her eyes.

A/N: So, this started out as a weird idea to be honest. I noticed Matt Bomer wears glasses a lot, and at one point he was considered for the role of Superman. It just kind of made sense (to me) to put Neal in glasses also. Italics are flashbacks. Please read and review! Thanks to AwesomeQueenoftheLab for going over this! :D

Neal Caffrey raised a hand to his eyes, then wearily rubbed them. He'd been examining the document for the past hour, and his eyes were dried out. The stupid contacts of his could be so annoying sometimes. Finally giving up on seeing anything clearly, he set the magnifying lens down on the table. After glancing at the clock, which read a quarter to midnight, he headed over to the bathroom.

Five minutes later he came back out, his black rimmed glasses now sitting on his nose. Usually, he only wore the glasses when he was by himself or with Kate. It had always felt like something private between the two of them. Not even Peter had seen him in glasses. Maybe in surveillance photos, but never in person. He figured it probably stemmed from a comment Kate had made once, years ago, when they'd been pulling a con together. Neal walked back over to the table slowly, falling into the memories

The party would start in less than two hours, but Neal wanted to be there a little earlier. Impatient, he called up the stairs, "We need to get going, honey!" and then began to pace back and forth. When pacing became too much, Neal sat on the run-down couch and fiddled with a black hat while he waited for his partner in crime, both literally and metaphorically.

Tonight he was dressed rather simply for his tastes, with a black dress shirt and pants, a silver tie that Kate had specifically picked out, and, of course, the usual fedora. A pair of black framed glasses graced his face, the eyes behind them suddenly looking up when he heard the familiar clack of heels against wood. He knew it signaled his girlfriend coming, so he mentally prepared himself. However, when he finally caught sight of her, no preparation could have helped keep the dopey expression he was sure his face now possessed.

She was beautiful. Strappy silver heels perfectly matched the dress that adorned her body. It was a gorgeous silver cocktail dress. The bottom was rumpled slightly, so it looked like layers of fabric, while the top was strapless, showcasing a large diamond necklace that rested against her chest, right above her heart. Kate's dark hair was softly curled, falling around her face in waves and making Neal just itch to sweep it away from her delicate skin. She had a little makeup on; the eyeliner around her eyes enhancing them. In his opinion, she didn't even need that, since he thought she was absolutely stunning all the time. And now he knew why she had been so adamant that he wear the silver tie.

Slowly rising from the couch, he met her at the bottom of the stairs. His intense grey eyes – partially hidden by the glasses – bore into her sparkling blue ones, then a large grin broke out on his face as he held out a hand and said, "You look beautiful."

A light blush crossed Kate's cheeks at his compliment, and she took the offered hand, allowing him to guide her down the last stair step. She took the moment to appraise him, and then said – her glossy pink lips forming a smile – "You clean up pretty good yourself, Mr. Kent."

"Why, thank you, Mrs. Kent," he replied, a playful look on his face as he called her by the alias she'd picked out for the con.

Kate suddenly tugged on his tie, drawing him closer. She maintained eye contact, watching as his eyes darkened in anticipation. Her mouth twitched where it hovered just over his, before she changed direction. Instead, her breath tickled his neck as she whispered in his ear, "My very own Superman."

The memory exploded around him as a loud knocking on his door broke the moment. He was startled to feel something wet running down his face, then he realized they were tears. Angrily, he wiped them away as best he could and ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down. Taking a deep breath, he got up, pasting the expected smile onto his face.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Neal called when the person knocked again. He unlocked the deadbolt, then threw the door open. To be honest, he wasn't all that surprised to see Peter standing there with a six-pack of beer and bottle of wine. Peter looked surprised though, if the open mouth and wide eyes were any indication. "Are you going to stand there all night catching flies, or are you coming in?" he asked evenly.

The agent shook his head, still not quite able to pull his gaze away from the consultant. He did, however, come in to the apartment and said, "I, ah, didn't know you wore glasses."

Neal turned his back to shut the door, and then walked over to the table where he'd been seated before Peter knocked. He sat down and said softly, "There's a lot you don't know about me, Peter."

Which was probably true, Peter thought as he looked into the man's haunted eyes that were hidden behind the clear lenses. For some reason, the glasses reminded him of someone, and it took a moment for him to figure out whom. Suddenly, it clicked, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "You'd make a good Clark Kent."

The consultant's own eyes widened, before Neal threw his head back and abruptly burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that his whole body shook and tears filled his eyes; tears that quickly turned into heart wrenching sobs. Peter watched his friend finally fall apart after two weeks of dancing around the issue of Kate's death. It was a relief, but he wondered if it was something he said.