A/N: Happy Birthday Mr. Noah Emmerich!

This is set pre-series. I have heard no mention of Fowler's wife's name, but if there has been one I'm sorry for the random name picking. This fic had no beta, so all mistakes are on me.

I, of course, do not own White Collar. Jeff Eastin does and it's truly better that way.


Ann was sitting at their favorite spot looking at her watch. Garrett smiled watching her from across the road, waiting for the traffic light to change. Late again, but he always treasured seeing his gorgeous wife sitting at the coffee shop where they first met.


They were both 25 when they saw each other that faithful day. Ann worked there and bought Garrett his black coffee. Looking up from the newspapers, he was taken by her huge brown eyes and short brown hair. They dated 3 years and never regretted a moment of it. He was a better person because of her, more outgoing and she knew how to keep his temper in check. He knew the best decision he ever made was to ask Ann to marry him.


Traffic light changed and he crossed the road. Ann stood up and gently kissed him.

"How is work, sweetie?"

Garrett groaned. He's wife was a curious soul, but he hated talking about work instead of other topics. "It's okay. Mostly paperwork; didn't think about how much paperwork there was when I signed up to work for the FBI."

She gave him a sympathetic smile, showing the dimples that he fell in love with from day one. "Aren't you going to ask?"

He already knew the answer; they have been trying for years with no luck. "What did the test say?"

"Oh, honey." She reached to grab his hand, "Maybe it is better this way. Between the hours both you and me work, we don't have time for a child right now. Maybe we can try other options next year after you get that promotion and I can cut my hours back."

She rubbed his hand and they sat in silence the rest of the time. Kissing each other goodbye, they never knew this was the last time they would see each other.


-A couple months later—

"I got him honey," Garrett laid the yellow roses (her favorite) in front of Ann's grave. "I swear. He will never hurt anybody ever again." His phone buzzed. It was a text from the mystery man. It only contained a name. Neal Caffrey.

End notes: So, if you haven't seen 'Point Blank', that whole fic probably didn't make sense, and I would have to ask… WHY HAVEN'T SEEN IT YET? But I digress. Please R&R