A/N: Inspired by a random thought I had, and the fact that Neal/Moz has almost no love to speak of. :( At least, on FF, anyway.

And why does your writing look so much longer before you put it on FF? Just wondering. Does anyone else have that problem? D:

Thanks for reading! 3

TITLE: For You, I Would.
GENRE: White Collar
PAIRING: Neal/Moz & Neal/Peter (plus a little sprinkle of El). Neal's conflicted. Too many beautiful people! :D
WARNING: Mentions of sexual content. IF there is a sequel, there probably will be more questionable content.

Moz hated it. The little man hated it so much, more than almost anything that had ever happened in his life before. Maybe it was the fact that he could do nothing to stop it, or perhaps it was the fact that he knew it was bound to happen someday.

So as he sat there in Neal's apartment at June's, staring blankly out the window to the patio where the beautiful brunette stood, he felt his stomach sink more than it had in the last week. He knew what was happening, and it wasn't good. Sure, maybe Neal thought it was good for himself, but it wasn't. Mozzie would know. It definitely wasn't good.

His thoughts were shattered when he heard his name. Neal's frame was coming back into the kitchen area, his beautiful eyes showing concern for his friend. "Mozz. You okay?" he asked presently, waving his hand around his face in a rather cliché attempt to bring Mozzie back to the planet Earth. "You've been really distant lately." Understatement of the century.

Mozz put on his most convincing smile. "Absolutely," he said, his perfectly enunciated voice shining through the sorrow eating at his heart. "I'm great, sorry, just thinking..." Neal made a noise that sounded somewhat like a scoff and a laugh at the same time.

"Mozzie. I know you. You didn't even steal any of my wine today. Something's worrying you."

"Perhaps I'm just not in the mood for wine, Neal, did you ever think of that?"

"No, because you always want wine."

Mozz couldn't really argue with that. He let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. "Neal, really. I've just got a lot to think about," he said, giving his friend a tired smile, and Neal's face continuing to hold that adorable concern that he loved so much. Neal opened his mouth to say something more, but thought better of it, and sat opposite of Mozz at the table with a blank piece of paper.

He began to sketch. Mozz tried to concentrate, but he ended up watching Neal as his lines formed shapes and the shapes formed pictures. It was amazing what Neal could do with something so simple and primitive as a ball-point pen. Mozzie smiled to himself a bit as he watched, a beautiful portrait of an unnamed woman appearing on the page so quickly that people would stop and stare. At one point, Neal's startlingly blue eyes glanced up quickly to Mozzie's face, where they showed the hint of a knowing smile. Of course he knew that someone was watching him. He demanded presence. If anyone wasn't watching him, they were crazy. Or perhaps a lesbian. Neal had a way, an air about him so mystifying, so captivating, that it could make you do anything for him. That's what made him such a great con man. He was the complete opposite of Mozzie in looks, stature, presence, and the way he went about things. That's what made them a great team.

Or, perhaps, that was merely the reason why all Mozz could ever be was a side-kick. A half-wit. A stupid loser following in the wake of a beautiful being, collecting the pieces, dusting him off, and sending him off again to fly with all the other birds in the sky. He stayed on the ground enviously.

The night went by silently, Neal pacing and feeling rather idle and restless, constantly creating things and ending up cooking something relatively tasteless for dinner that he easily shared with his working comrade. Only when June came in did anything really change. They both started as June rapped on the door, sticking her head in with an apologetic smile.

"Neal?" she said quietly, Neal staring out the window absently, the remnants of his dinner discarded on the plate next to him, barely touched. "Mr. Burke's here to see you."

Neal's face sparked with interest. "Peter?" he asked as the man entered presently, his usual I'm-always-all-business look on his good-looking face. Mozzie, facing the opposite way as the other two, made a face that resembled a grimace and a silent growl.

Mozzie played absently with a wooden puzzle as he sat on the veranda, Kate across from him at the table with a glass of white wine. She watched him quietly, regarding the way that he lackadaisically worked at the puzzle, without real intentions of finishing it. She finally broke the silence, unable to take any more of the empty, stagnant space that was consuming the two. It was always awkward between the two when Neal wasn't around.

"What do you think is taking Neal so long?" she asked absently as she checked her watch for at least the seventh time that half-hour. "Shouldn't he be here by now?"

Mozz looked up from his rather simple puzzle with a frustrated look on his normally cheery face. "How should I know? It's Neal, for Christ's sake!" he snapped, setting down the puzzle with disgust onto the metal table, causing Kate's wine glass to vibrate on the surface creating a miniscule wine-typhoon. She made a face at him, only interested in his behavior because there really wasn't much else to be interested in.

"I bet he ran into another thief or something..." she said quietly, trying to ignore Mozzie's temper. "That Haddler guy came around here the other day, didn't he? Or maybe he saw Alex?" she offered, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Haddler was murdered, Kate, don't you listen to anything Neal ever says?" Mozz snapped, munching on a pretzel so fiercely Kate thought the poor thing might disintegrate.

"Apparently you do," Kate said lowly, taking a calm sip of wine and peering at him with her captivating chocolate eyes.

"What? I—" Mozz stuttered, taken off guard. "Of course I do! He's my friend!"

"Right," Kate said, with an undertone of something Mozz couldn't place. "So... Where do you think he is, then, if he is such a close friend of yours?"

Mozzie really wanted to shove a pretzel down her throat, just to get rid of that manipulative smile. At least Neal was a nice guy, at least he had some class. Kate, you could see through her like saran-wrap. Mozz's eyes narrowed from behind his thick black glasses. "He probably ran into the Suit or something," Mozzie said absently, trying to keep his voice level. He couldn't let her get under his skin. That would mean that she succeeded.

Kate nodded knowingly, her eyes scanning the horizon of New York City as if it was the norm, not the abstract shiny scene that surprised Mozzie and Neal every day. The beauty, the splendor of it all... She acted as if it was so unimportant. Like Neal. Just another pawn to play with.

"He really likes that cop, doesn't he?" Kate commented, swishing her wine in her class with her long fingers. "It's like he tries to run into him! He's just trying to mess with his head."

Mozzie rolled his eyes. "Yeah," he agreed. "He's even started to call him by his first name!" he exclaimed as if he had committed a sin. Kate's eyes widened slightly. Surprised, no doubt, and Mozz could practically see the jealously streaming off of her like cigarette smoke. Mozz, at least, was better at concealing the fact that he got hot with jealousy every time the man came up in conversation. Mozzie smirked a little at the woman's obvious change in emotions. At least it took the smirk off of her face. He was about to make another comment when Kate interrupted him.

"It's not like Neal will ever establish even a friendship with the man!" she exclaimed incredulously, nodding to reassure herself. Mozz smiled again. "He's a con! He's a thief! Burke would never even consider friendship or anything else with Neal regardless! He can never change that, and Burke and Neal both know that."

Mozzie ate another pretzel as he took her statements in. "...Anything else?" he questioned curiously, making Kate's face go slightly pink.

"Neal's sexuality has always been up in the air," she said darkly, as if he should know that. He, of course, knew that, as well.

"He loves people for who they are, Kate," Mozz corrected curtly. It was Kate's turn to smirk back at him.

"Of course," she said as she sipped the last of her wine from her glass. The edge of it was stained with red lipstick. Mozz thought about how long it took to clean lip stains off of glasses. A long time, that was for sure. He frowned.

"Well, you're wrong," Mozzie said after a moment's worth of silence. "Neal would change himself for someone like Peter Burke. But the question is, will he?"

Kate regarded him sourly, knowing deep in her heart. "Absolutely not. Neal can never escape who he really is."

It was Mozzie's turn to reply sadly with, "Of course."

Mozzie felt that same hot jealousy in his stomach as the man strode into Neal's apartment as if he owned the place, papers and folders in his arms and his voice all-business as he began to rattle off information to Neal as he entered the room. He nodded to Mozzie as he talked with Neal, and Mozzie didn't respond to the gesture at all. In fact, if anything, his frown just deepened. Peter was saying something about the plans to a building, when Neal nudged Mozzie. Mozz looked up with a raised eyebrow, hopeful of being asked to share his expertise.

"Mozz, could you migrate over to the coffee table so Peter and I can look at the information?" he asked easily, his smooth voice like butter, barely even looking at Mozz as he asked this. Only when Mozz didn't get up right away did the blue eyes collide with his own. Only then did Mozzie shrink away to the coffee table, a deep anger burning in his chest, as the men bent over their work in the dim lighting.

He spread his things onto the too small coffee table with too much force, glaring in the two men's direction. He tapped his fingers on the surface of the glass tabletop as he stared off into the blank TV screen with anger burning hot coals in his heart. How could Neal replace him like this? How could he throw him out on the curb like a discarded play thing? Was he really that boring that a suit could outrank him?

Mozzie tried to concentrate on the work he was doing, but nothing worked. His eyes continued to stray back to the familiar form of Neal, leaning over a pushed-in chair, his legs seeming to go on forever... His eyes averted the sight after only a moment. But, like a moth to a flame, his eyes were sucked back into Neal's trap. The trap he fell into over and over again.

And, let's be honest: he liked being in that trap. Just a little.

The rest of the night seemed to drag on, and Mozz didn't want to leave until he was sure the Suit had left. The Suit had stayed there so long the two had completely forgotten about Mozz, reclining on the couch, as they worked. The Suit stayed there so long that Mozzie just had to wonder. How long did he usually stay? Did Neal want him to stay that late? Did he ever impose on Neal's plans like he used to? Did Neal enjoy the company more than Mozz himself? What was notorious Neal Caffrey doing with Peter Burke, anyway? Wait, was Neal Caffrey with Burke?

His mind did flips. What if he was? Would Mozzie know? Would Neal even bother to tell him? And why would Neal even want to be with Burke anyway? The thing that had been eating him since long before this arrangement had come about was coming true so rapidly... Neal was changing himself. He was adapting, he was changing, and he was slowly abandoning the person that Mozzie loved. Really, truly loved. And Mozz was losing the friend he had always relied on, worshipped, even. Neal was his existence. Mozzie was nothing without the notorious Caffrey.

And when Caffrey stopped being notorious, all because of that idiotic Suit, Mozzie stopped having a life.

Comments are loved! Thanks so much for reading! New chapters up soon! 3 Shannon