I don't own anything. Sadly.
Neal stared down at his anklet. He turned the key in his fingers, feeling the conflicting emotions. He knew Peter would never forgive him for this if he did. And if he didn't… well, there was a lot to be lost there too.
His eyes darted up to Moz. The balding man sat across from him, wearing a nondescript shirt that might be blue, or brown, or somewhere in between black and purple. Neal didn't really know; if he looked at it for too long his friend started to fade into the background. Neal suspected that the goal of the shirt was something along those lines. His friend was doing his best to avoid the con's stare, his eyes carefully averted to his glasses that he was avidly polishing on his shirt.
Neal sighed. "Moz, I'm not sure I want to do this."
Slowly, Mozzie drew his attention away from his glasses. "Neal, it's not my choice to make," he pointed out. "But it eventually boils down to the Suit or New York. Which do you want?"
Neal shook his head, frowning slightly. "I don't know," he whispered, his eyes being inexorably drawn back to the glass doors leading out to the terrace. The City that Never Sleeps was lit up in all its nighttime glory, the lights glittering and sometimes seeming to shift slightly in the warm summer night.
He found himself standing and beginning to pace. Eventually his feet led him to the glass doors, and he stared at his reflection, shocked at how different he looked. There were heavy bags perched underneath his eyes, and a scratch marred his face, stretching from his temple to the corner of his mouth. His eyes had a slightly haunted look, and there was something in his expression that he couldn't place.
After a few minutes, Mozzie broke the silence, not turning around to face Neal. "You do realize that this shouldn't be a hard choice, right?" He paused. "I mean, a Fed compared to a city. I'd choose the city… but…"
Neal shrugged slightly. He knew that Moz was more attached to Peter and El than he would admit. For him, there were slightly different reasons. If he left, yes he would be saving Peter's life, but he would be leaving behind the place that had effectively changed him from the awkward teen who had come here to try and make a living to the charming and debonair con man and art thief… the titles stretched on. Alleged titles, anyway. But, even more than that, this was the place where Kate had died, the place where the little bit of her remains were. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to drop it all and walk away from that.
No, some little part of him protested. You can't bring yourself to walk away from the life Peter's given you that you have here. You can't bring yourself to walk away from helping the FBI under the supervision of an agent who is now more than a partner, an agent who has become a friend.
That did it. "I'm doing this for Peter," he mumbled, the chair squealing as he dragged it away from the table and put his foot on it. "Moz, are you ready?"
Mozzie nodded. "Yeah. As soon as you cut it, I can be on a plane to Barcelona or something. Just say the word."
Neal hesitated for a second and then shook his head. "Go now. I know what I need to do, and I'd rather not be the direct cause of Dante Haversham's arrest. Get your plane ticket and go. I'll be in touch."
The vertically challenged man nodded once and then moved toward the door. His hand rested lightly on the knob; Neal could see him about to turn it when he turned around. "Neal, I just want to say it was nice seeing you again. Goodbye."
Neal nodded. "You too, Moz, you too. I'll be back, remember. Consider this… a brief hiatus."
Mozzie shifted slightly away from the door. "Neal, are you sure you want me to leave…? Remember: 'Good friends are like the ivy and the wall; together they stand and together they fall.'"
Neal didn't hesitate this time. "I'm sure Moz. No falling together this time. If we do it right neither of us will fall. And an anonymous quote of my own: 'A partner in crime, a thief of time, you will always be there for me in the end, you are always my dearest friend.'"
Moz dipped his head once and then turned away and left the room. Neal watched him go with a twinge of guilt. He didn't doubt that he would see his friend again, but he knew that they had run their last con together.
Pushing those thoughts from his mind, Neal reached for a pad of paper lying on the table. He hastily scrawled a note with the stub of a pencil carelessly thrown to the side and then addressed it to Peter.
Goodbye, Peter. Thanks for everything. Tell El that I won't forget either of you. Tell June thanks for letting me stay here. But most of all, Peter, thank you for getting me out of jail. Thanks for saving my butt all those times. Thank you for being a friend, the only person I can trust. This will get the target off your back.
Have a nice life.
NC
He took a deep breath, and then removed his anklet for the last time.
Hey, let me know what you think. And yes, the sequel to Kate is coming along eventually, but I don't want to put it up until I have a plot for it, which as of right now is being rather elusive. Stupid plots. Anyway, review please!