Shawn Spencer was bored.

No, it was more than that. He was bored, had no prospects for cases or any sort of calls to help be a psychic on any sort of case, and was bordering on spending all of his savings on something big. While that something big could not be categorized in anything that would border on normal, he thought a pinball machine would give a nice flair to the office. Plus, it would actually give him something to do.

Rather than tap the pencil again and again until he finally flew it into the ceiling.

There wasn't a great size of pencils up there this time. That was due to the fact that Gus had taken away most of the pencils from the last time he decided the ceiling needed pencils. As he sighed and sat back in his chair, a light bulb came on. He picked up the phone – still working as he heard the dial tone – and dialed a number he knew like the back of his hand. It was a number, that if a certain friend of his was out of jail, would answer.

"Hello?" Came the quiet answer that sounded like his friend was near someone.

"Neal!" Shawn said happily. "Glad to hear that you are not, in fact, in jail."

Neal took one look at the phone, one look at Peter, and just got up to excuse himself from the room for a moment. "Yeah, I am. And I've got something going on at the moment. Why are you calling me?"

"I was bored and I thought about taking a road trip. Where are you right now?" Shawn asked.

"Shawn, you cannot just take a road trip to where I am. I'm under FBI control at the moment," Neal responded with a sigh before just giving the address where he was staying. "Just call before you decide to come running down the highway to visit me."

"That's what I'm doing now," Shawn replied and hanged up. He closed down the office and was out the door in five minutes. He decided to make a quick stop at the ice cream cart before getting on his motorcycle and driving home to grab a bag that was already packed with most things needed for a road trip. He made a mental note to get Parker, who was in Boston from what he heard, and went on his way.

In New York City, Neal Caffrey sighed as he headed back into the room and sat down. He looked back down at what he was supposed to make sure was a forgery or not before looking up at Peter. "I might have guests soon. Are you going to promise to be nice to them?"

"No," Peter replied. "Considering that there is nothing saying that I do have to be nice to them. Is that real or a fake?"

"How about I'll be even more considerate than usual about making sure that you get all your cases solved and staying out of your hair?" Neal countered.

"Why are you so worried about me being nice to your friends?" Peter asked.

"Because – well, they're less like Mozzie and more like me," Neal responded with a shrug. "And this is a fake."

"I like them already," Peter replied as he took it back and made notes in the paperwork as Neal rattled off why it was a forgery. After that, he put down his pen and rubbed his eyes. "Let's call it a day for now."

"Fine with me," Neal said with a smile and looked at the time. "Elizabeth's going to hate you though."

"She had a late night tonight too," Peter replied. "Otherwise we'd be out of here earlier. Want a ride?"

"Sure," Neal replied as he got his coat and his hat. The pair made their way out of the office and towards home. It was a bit quiet in the car, but it suited the both of them for the moment. At least Neal wasn't playing with Peter's buttons and Peter got to enjoy a nice drive home before deciding just to go to bed.