A/N: First crossover fic! Yay! I'm not very good at details and filler, so everything happens kinda fast & the chapters are short, but I'm really trying to get better! Maybe some mild whump and the chance of a little language (nothing corse). Not really sure when this all takes place because I wrote it waaay before the EXPLOSIVE finale of White Collar! Love the fic? Hate it? Please tell me!

"Neal, where are you? I thought I said to meet me at the office ten minutes ago."

Peter was getting frustrated at the conman, but he was more upset by the fact that no one had listened to him when he said to come in early that morning.

"Sorry, Peter," Neal said into the phone as he walked out of the coffee shop a couple streets away from the FBI building,

"I got a late start. If it gives you any consolation, I don't think I was the only one to forget."

"You're right. How are you always right?"

The man laughed, shaking his head.

"Time change, remember? Everyone lost an hour."

"I should have known. You never answered my question, where are you?"

"Hey, no need to panic, I'm just around the corner. See you in five." He said, glancing at his watch, and ended the call with Peter.

Little did they both know that Neal wouldn't be coming into the office at all that day.

He never knew what hit him. All Neal remembered was going around a corner and being tackled to the ground. Someone was on top of him, twisting his arms behind his back, and before he could think to call out for help, another set of hands grabbed his hair and pressed a rag to his face.

"Hurry, do it." He heard a man say, and felt his anklet being cut before everything went black.

When Peter got the call, he knew something was wrong. Neal had said he was five minutes from the FBI building when Peter had talked to him, and the monitoring system showed that he was. Then the anklet was cut, just like that. Having been so close to the site, it took the FBI less than two minutes to get to the street where Neal went off the radar. They found nothing there except the anklet, lying in an ally that served as a short cut between streets.

"Jones, I need you to see if any of these businesses have surveillance footage, maybe they picked something up. Cruz, take a team to see if anyone around here saw something."

Peter ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling very helpless. He was sure Neal had nothing to do with cutting his anklet, but who did? He could only hope they found something to point them in the right direction. In the mean time, he needed to talk to El. As much as Peter hated to bring his wife into all of this and cause her to stress out, he really needed to talk to someone who cared about Neal as much as he did.

"Peter, is everything okay?"

She could always tell when something was wrong, even before he said anything. It was just one more thing he loved about her.

"El," He sighed, this was going to be tough, "El, Neal's anklet was cut when he was less than five minutes from the office."

Peter heard her gasp, but she was quick to recover.

"You put that almost like he wasn't the one to do it. Do you think...?"

"It's possible, he still has a lot of enemies. None of this makes sense, either. I had just been on the phone with him no less than a minute before the anklet was cut."

"Peter, I don't care what it takes, you have to find him before anything happens."

"You know I will, El. I've got to let you go, I have to make some calls. I promise to let you know if we find something."

After he got off of the phone with his wife, Jones and Lauren showed up empty handed, at a loss for what to do next. Peter thought for a moment before stepping into his office to make a series of calls. Finally, after almost an hour, he got put through to a general.

"The FBI were told to call this number if something unusual happened. I think you might be interested to hear what just happened."

The woman showed little interest in Neal's disappearance until Peter faxed over his file. He heard a gasp from the other line, and was given instructions to get on a flight to California immediately.

"Is there anything I need to know?" He asked, confused by her change of tone.

"This is exactly what we were looking for Agent Burke. You can bring only one or two other people with you, preferably agents, I will have a ride waiting for you at the airport."

"Anything else, General?"

"Yes, I would like to know who you have chosen to come with you, if it isn't too much trouble."

The tone of her voice told Peter that she wanted to know whether it was too much trouble or not.

"Agent Clinton Jones and a friend of Neal's, I'm sorry, but I can't seem to remember his name."

"Can you trust these men?" She sighed.

Peter considered Mozzie for a moment, then replied.

"Yes, I trust them, with my life and Neal's."

******

"It's not him, we were set up!"

"Of course it's him! What makes you say it isn't?"

Neal groaned, and stirred a little, but when he tried to open his eyes, he found himself blindfolded.

"We never would have stood a chance if it was really him. He didn't put up a fight. I'm telling you, we've been duped."

Neal heard the other man sigh.

"Look, she said it was him, so it's him. Our job is to take him in, not question our mission."

In the silence that followed, Neal became aware of a numbness in his hands and feet, and realized that his captures had tied him up a little too tightly. Zip-ties. Neal hated zip-ties. They couldn't be picked like handcuffs, and couldn't be easily cut like rope. He could probably get out of them if he had something sharp, or an object small enough to press down the little piece of plastic that kept them in place. The only other thing he could gather was that they were driving, possibly in a van. Neal tried to remember what had happened, but it was still a blur. He knew he had been talking to Peter, which meant he would know something was wrong when Neal didn't show up for work. That thought encouraged him a little. He wished he could see, but then again, when these men found out he wasn't whoever they thought he was, they wouldn't they feel the need to "off" him just because Neal saw their faces. The ride was hours long, probably even days, but Neal couldn't have been sure. Whenever the men thought he was getting too fidgety, they were quick to press the rag to his face, leaving him unconscious for another couple of hours. After loosing count of how many times this happened, the vehicle finally pulled to a stop, and rough hands gripped his arms as the men half dragged him out of the van.

******

"Bartowski, yogurt."

Chuck was just explaining the advantages of upgrading from a computer built in the eighties to a much newer model (to a stubborn customer stuck in a time-warp) when Casey appeared from behind a shelf of video games. It had been almost a week since their last mission, so Chuck wasn't surprised at the call for a briefing.

"Um, excuse me." He said, dashing off before the customer could protest, leaving her shaking her head disapprovingly.

General Beckman shuffled a stack of papers on her desk before beginning, and glanced over her glasses at Chuck, Sarah, and Casey.

"The FBI has contacted us with a case that looks to be directly related to the Ring, and it has become apparent that could be the lead we were looking for that might shut them down once and for all."

"What's the mission, General." Casey asked while motioning for Chuck to pay attention.

"A consultant was kidnapped less than five minutes from the FBI office in New York City. From the information they have provided, this seems to be a job done by experts, done by the Ring. There was no surveillance video of the grab, and the pedestrians claim that they saw nothing."

"Any idea as to why they took this guy?"

"It has something to do with this." Beckman sighed and held up a picture.

There was a collective gasp from Team Bartowski; the young man looked almost exactly like Agent Bryce Larkin.

"Is that...?" Chuck never finished his question. A series of images featuring mugshots, print-outs of recorded phone calls, and an FBI agent flashed before his eyes.

"That is not Bryce. He's Neal Caffrey, a conman who's working with the agent who arrested him as an alternative to another four years in jail. This guy is good at what he does, but he's definitely not the spy he looks like."

"You are correct Mr. Bartowski, Neal Caffrey is not Agent Larkin, yet the Ring seems to think he is. Your mission is to find him, and the facility where they are keeping him. Our intel have pinpointed the location to somewhere here, in California. FBI agents Peter Burke and Clinton Jones, along with a friend of Mr. Caffrey's are flying down to Burbank as we speak. Meet them at the airport in three hours. Remember, this is about shutting down the Ring as well as saving the life of an inn- of a civilian."

General Beckman had almost called Neal innocent, but seeing as his record was less than clean, she decided to go with another word. Before anyone had the chance to ask questions, she logged off and the screen went blank.