Author Note: I do not own any of the characters in White Collar. I wish I could but I don't =( Anyhoo, enjoy and review please!

Click-Click-Snap, Click-Click-Snap. The sound of handcuffs being opened and shut continuously filled the van and Peter growled in annoyance. He looked over at the man occupying the seat next to him and snatched the handcuffs out of the man's hands with an exasperated sigh. Bright blue eyes flashed up towards his own with a look of frustrated boredom. "Are you five years old?" Peter asked his colleague. There was a smirk from the other man and Peter felt the overwhelming urge to slap Neal in the back of the head. Not hard of course, just enough to get his point across. Neal looked over at him slyly and answered in his best imitation of a child's voice. "I'm two." He gave Peter another smirk. Click-Click-Snap, Click-Click-Snap. Neal held up the handcuffs with a wicked grin. He twirled his hat, which in Peter's opinion came out of a cartoon, and slapped it down on his head. Peter groaned and rolled his eyes as Neal put his feet up on the equipment that lined one of the walls and rocked back on his chair. "How many times do I have to tell you not to put your feet up there? And I've lost count of the amount of times I've told you not to rock your chair back. You know how many people a day get hurt just by doing that?"

Neal gave his partner a blank look that told Peter the younger man didn't really care how many people hurt themselves by rocking their chairs back. "You know I really don't want to do this." Neal stated as he looked over at Peter hopefully. He was met with the shake of Peter's head. Neal sighed and got up. "I guess that I better get going." He muttered as he put down his hat and grabbed the baseball cap that was waiting for him on the table. He took off his suit jacket and took off the formal shirt underneath it. Neal grabbed the beaten old shirt and pulled it over his head. "Give me the case will you?" He snapped irritably at Peter. Peter motioned to Tanner and she handed Neal the beaten old leather briefcase. Neal took it and walked out of the van before disappearing from sight behind the old courthouse.

Neal took up a casual stance, hands in his pockets and the case rested against the wall behind him. He looked around and stepped forward when he saw the large red Hummer squeal around the corner. Neal got in and stared out the window disinterestedly and remained silent for the ride.

Neal stepped out of the car over an hour later. The Hummer was parked in front of a large two story house that had a basement and a pool. The door to the house opened and Neal was ushered into the living room. Several large men were standing in the doorways. Large guns were slung over their shoulders and Neal's mind went reeling. He hated guns. Guns were evil.

A small man with a pot belly and a thick beard entered the room and sat down on the couch opposite of Neal. "Mr. Caffrey what a pleasure to meet you." The single sentence sent the alarm bells ringing inside Neal's head. His alias was Jacob Small, a big time jewelry thief that sold priceless gems and dispersed them to interested buyers. The fact that Charles knew who he was, was disturbing. Neal swallowed before answering with an "Its my pleasure to meet you Mr. Eckert." He put the leather case on the seat next to him. It was beaten in appearance so that people wouldn't be interested in what was in it and his clothes only worked to further that image. The blinding pain that shot through his upper shoulder caught him completely unawares. He hadn't noticed the man sneak up behind him. Now the only thing he was aware of was the sharp blade protruding out of his left shoulder and he squeezed his eyes shut. The blade twisted and Neal gasped, his hand reaching up for the blade automatically. "Glad we could sort this out." He grunted the phrase that Peter had told him would be the 'move in' code.

Too bad Peter couldn't hear him…

Peter slammed the headset onto the table in front of him in a fit of frustrated anger. Almost as soon as Neal had stepped into the red Hummer static had consumed the line. He had lost Neal… again. Peter sighed and almost felt like checking his hair for some new grey streaks. "Tanner." He called her over, voice hard with worry. "I want you to monitor this screen. If Neal's signal shows up again, let me know immediately." Tanner nodded, a small frown of worry in the faint lines around her eyes. "Peter." Her voice was calm and reassuring. "Neal will be fine, if he gets into any trouble he will be able to get out of it."

Peter just frowned and shook his head angrily. He called his wife and the two met over lunch. They were in the middle of a discussion when his phone went off. Peter looked hopefully down at the number, hoping, wanting-no needing it to be either Neal's or Tanner's number. A crestfallen look settled over his face as he read the numbers of the unknown caller. "Agent Peter Burke." He answered automatically.

"Maybe you would like to strike a little deal Burke." The voice hissed into the phone. "You see, I have a little con friend of yours that you might want to have back."

Peter gasped, his face pale. Charles Eckert was a sick man and had no morals. He wouldn't hesitate to hurt Neal. "Can you prove that you have him?" He questioned praying that Charles was bluffing.

There was a chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Yes, hang on a second." The sound of people moving and a brief yelp made Peter cringe.

Neal's voice was a welcome relief to Peter. Peter grabbed a pen and wrote El a note telling her to get Jones to track the call.

"Peter?" Neal's voice was shaky and weak.

"Yeah, Neal I'm here." Peter replied concerned as he analyzed the weakness in his partner's voice.

Neal muttered something that sounded like "gethecomnlinkyupsy."

Peter frowned as he tried to puzzle out what Neal meant. Then a light bulb turned on in his head and it made sense: Get the com link up.

I will Neal, I promise. Peter vowed silently. He got up and grabbed his wallet. He was going to need a ton of coffee.