Superpowered

(OK so instead of doing a bunch of crossovers, I've decided instead to write one chapter for each version of Neal I can come up with. If you have suggestions or a particular Neal you'd like to see, do share. Ideas are welcome)

Neal walked through the crowd of agents, a painting tucked under his arm like an ordinary piece of mail. He spotted Burke and paused, wandering over to stand in front of the agent. He tilted his head, watching the very very slow movement as Burke took a step back.

To them, he was a blur. They probably hadn't even registered him leaving the building yet. By the time they did, he'd be long gone, and it would take them forever to figure out which painting he'd replaced with his own forgery.

Neal stood in front of Burke for a moment longer, then headed off once more, back to the safehouse where Mozzie would most likely be waiting.

He smirked to himself as he stopped running and time went back to its normal pace. The agents far behind would only just be realizing what had happened and they'd be scrambling to keep up. Everyone knew they couldn't, but it was amusing to see them try.

Mozzie was indeed waiting when Neal stepped inside. He glanced up from the puzzle laid out on the table to ask, "You get it?"

Neal held up the painting with a self-satisfied grin.

"Did they see you?"

"Nope," Neal replied. "But it was close that time. This Agent Burke is good, I'll give him that."

"He won't catch you unless you let him," Mozzie warned. "Don't get too cocky."

Neal waved him off, placing the newly acquired painting aside for now. "How's our fence?"

"Pleased," Mozzie replied. "He'll meet us tomorrow at noon."

"Location?"

"Pending."

Neal sat down heavily on the couch, sighing. "That's taking more out of me than it used to," he admitted.

"Then take it easy," Mozzie said. "You don't have to run everywhere, you know."

Neal hummed in acknowledgement. It didn't feel like running to him, but after he stopped, it seemed to catch up to him. In his teenage years, he felt like he could run all the way across the country without breaking a sweat. Now, he was slowing down, though he was still too fast for the FBI to catch.

He thought about Agent Burke again and smiled to himself. That one was going to be trouble. He was smart, almost smart enough to bring in the great Neal Caffrey. Today had been one of his more bold attempts, and Neal had only just slipped past.

It was a matter of time before they properly met.

-)()(-

Peter flinched as a rush of blue shot past him and he watched as Neal Caffrey disappeared once again.

For just a split second, if had seemed like the man had paused in front of him, and Peter had even caught a short glimpse of that smirk before it was gone.

The agent shook his head, unable to hide a smile. This guy was fast, and smart. He was pretty much harmless as well. Peter happened to know that he didn't even carry a gun. They were lucky for that, he knew. Caffrey was perfectly capable of killing anyone who stood in his way, but he never went there. He was young, foolish, and brash. He just needed guidance, that was all.

Peter was determined to catch him, and that opportunity came when he least expected it.

It was a Thursday when they got a tip on Caffrey, and Peter took his team quickly to an old storage place where it didn't take long to find the man in question.

Peter was expecting him to be doing something shady, or even in the middle of a deal, but what he found was Caffrey sitting on the ground, panting heavily with his eyes closed.

Peter holstered his gun and took a step forward. "Caffrey?"

Neal glanced up quickly, surprised, then almost seemed to take in the situation and come to some acceptance about it. "Peter," he returned. "Help me up."

Peter didn't move, looking at him in puzzlement. This was the first time he'd gotten such a close look at the man he'd been chasing for almost five years. "What's wrong with you? By now, I figured you'd be halfway across town."

Neal smiled a bit and shook his head. "Tired of running. Can't run anymore."

"What's that mean, you can't run?"

They both glanced over as Diana appeared, though once she saw Peter standing there casually talking to Neal, she too put her gun away, shooting her boss a curious look. "We taking him in?"

"Yeah," Peter replied. He stepped forward and offered his hand, which Neal took, and he hauled the young con to his feet. "You're really were serious about the not running thing, weren't you?"

"Yeah, well, I figured I gotta stop somewhere. And I'd rather it be you that caught me and not some old guy further down the road."

Peter looked at him questioningly. "You're the one that called in the tip."

His answer was a smirk and a shrug.

-)()(-

Mozzie was upset, and rightfully so. Neal hadn't consulted him one bit on this, and now here he was, an anklet on his foot and no more spark in his eye.

"How much tether did they give you?"

"Two miles."

"Two miles?! Neal, that's a cage to you! They may as well have stuck you in jail!"

Neal shot him a look. "Yeah, except jail would be suffocating. I'll take this over prison any day. Besides, I get to work with Peter."

Mozzie scoffed. "You've had a man crush on him all these years. I should have seen this coming."

"Moz, I didn't see this coming," Neal said. "It just happened."

"I told you to take a break."

"I know."

"Are you gonna tell me what happened?"

Neal shrugged. "There's nothing to tell. I got tired of running."

"You love running. Come on, Neal, it's me."

Neal didn't say anything for a long time so Mozzie thought he was refusing to talk about it. Then, Neal sighed and said, "It's gone. The running thing."

"How?" Mozzie asked, but Neal just shrugged.

"I wish I knew."

-)()(-

Neal had been working with Peter for close to three years now, so he knew when their covers were blown it was time to get out. The only problem was that Peter was being held at gunpoint and there were men shouting at each other, and at him.

For the first time in a while, Neal felt trapped. There was no way out. He caught Peter's eye, looking for a signal, something to tell him what to do. Peter didn't have anything either.

The gun at the agent's head clicked as the man holding it flicked the safety off. Neal froze. His heart rate skyrocketed, and in a flash, he was there, knocking the gun away. It happened in a split second and he froze again, staring right into the shocked face of the man whose gun he'd just sent flying. No time for that. He grabbed Peter and took off again, not stopping until they were back at the van.

When he did stop, Peter stared at him with wide eyes, and Neal stared back with much the same expression.

Slowly Peter's face broke into a smile. "You're back."