Hello. First, I've to say that this is my first fanfiction on white collar, but also my first fanfiction directly in english. i'm a french speaker, so my english isn't at is best.
All the caracters are not to me (except one for now). but the history is mine.
enjoy it.
Part 1: The unmissing artifact
«Yesterday, at exactly five past ten, two suspects came into the native American art gallery of the metropolitan museum». explain Peter.
«What have they taken?» Asked Neal looking into the folder.
«That the problem. We don't know». answered Peter.
They came in, they cut the camera and, twenty minutes later, when the police arrived on the crime scene, they was gone and none object was missing.
Why the do that? asking Jones.
Honestly, we have no idea. Neal?
They're professional. They cut the camera, but didn't cut the alarm. So they knew that they have not many times to get out of there. It's probably a three men job. One of them cut the alarm, the second to robe and a third to drive.
The only suspect that we have, is a woman named Gabrielle Stevens. The robbers used her pass to get in the museum. What do we have on her?»
«Almost nothing. She is an expert in art restoration. She have her own lab and sometimes do works for the metropolitan museum and other museum from all the world. She is probably the best in what she does.» says Jones.
«A woman version of Neal.» says Peter
«What does she have that I doesn't have?»
«Expect that she is sexier, have a master, do an honest job and never be taken by the police, do you really want to know?» answered Diana.
«Does we have anything on her?» asked Peter.
«No, she seems a perfect employee and a perfect civilian. Always arrive at job at hours, never have any contravention. In fact, if they didn't stole her card, we probably never heard about her? » answerd Jones.
«Neal, what do you thinking about meeting a woman version of yourself?»
«I enjoy it»
After having passing a long hall, they finally get into a big white room. At the other side of the room, they were stairs, but it's look like the only way to get out of this place. In the middle of the place, there was a table, white again, with lights, mirrors and other stuff around.
The security agent that conducted them until that place finally turns back. That was a an ordinary man, in middle age, short brown hair. Nothing specific except the looks that he gave at both of them few times since they knock at the door.
«Lady Stevens will be here in few minutes. You can wait her here.»
«Thanks you for your help» naturally said Peter at the exactly just before the man close de door behind himself.
«I thing this man doesn't like me.» said Peter.
«You're probably right… answered Neal, lost in his head.»
«You didn't listen to me. Isn't it?»
«Sorry, Peter. It's just that there something weird in this place. But I cannot say what exactly…»
«It's maybe too white for you.»
Looking at the tools that were left on the table, he finally understood what was wrong.
«What have you found?»
He was going to say the truth to his friend when a voice came from upstairs.
Sorry for the wait, gentlemen.
«It's nothing, really. Miss Stevens, I'm Peter Burke from the F.B.I. and, whit my colleague, we would asking you some questions about what append to the museum yesterday.»
She finally gets down of the serpentine stairs and was just in front of Peter.
«With pleasure. It's awful. Do we know what they stole?»
«Not for now, but our investigation is under way and we'll… found.»
He hesitated on his last word. She didn't listening him anymore. She was just standing there looking at Neal without any word.
«Hello, Sophie». Say Neal.
Intrigued, Peter was looking at both of them.
«How did you know it was me? I mean, it was like fifteen years ago.» say the woman.
«Your mother ring. You never left it except when you are working.»
She was putting is hand on her neck, at the exactly moment where Neal was holding a delicate chain in silver with a ring on it.
«Does someone can explain to me what is happening here? Who's Sophie? How did you know each other?»
«Sophie is the name that I used to be at my birth. Nobody use it again.»
«We grew together, almost like brother and sister. She was the niece and goddaughter of Ellen.»
Looking at her, he adds: «He knows about this part of my life.
Looking Peter again: «She moved to her aunt at her mother death, and we grow up together.»
«ok, I think I need a coffee right now…»