A/N: This is my first White Collar story and I hope whoever is reading this that you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar or any characters from White Collar. All rights of White Collar go to Jeff Eastin.

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(Somewhere)

(Evelyn's P.O.V.)

The bag that was over my head was taken off. Giving me a chance to look at my surroundings, as I continued to try to figure out who kidnapped me.

Which to be honest, it could be a few people.

I was in an almost empty room, tied up to a chair.

I looked at the person who pulled the bag off me and saw he wasn't alone.

"Evelyn Cassel." I heard a familiar voice say behind the men in front of me.

The men then moved aside, and a familiar man walked up to me, smiling.

"Michael Bryant." I said, a little surprised. "I didn't do anything to you….Why am I here?"

Michael smiled more.

"You're right." Michael said. "You didn't do anything to me. In fact, I like to think we are somewhat friends."

"But we're not." I said. "For good reason…..Why am I here?"

"I believe you know Jonathan O'Riley." Michael said.

"I've heard of him." I said. "What about him?"

"He has a proposition for you." Michael said. "A job, if you will."

"Why didn't he come himself?" I asked.

"He's doing some business in Chicago." Michael said.

"You could have just knocked on my door." I said.

"Where's the fun in that?" Michael asked.

It was silent as Michael and I stared at each other.

"What's the job?" I asked.

"Someone stoled something from him years ago." Michael said. "And he wants it back."

"If it happened years ago, why does he want it back now?" I asked.

"It should be easy for you." Michael said, ignoring my question. "You know the target."

"Who has it?" I asked.

"Neal Caffrey." Michael said.

"I don't know him." I said.

"I was under the impression you did." Michael said.

"I know OF him." I said. "I don't actually KNOW him. I don't even know what he looks like."

Michael studied me for a moment, then he nodded.

"Well, I'm sure you have a way of finding out where he is, where he lives, what he does, and find a way to steal a diamond he stoled from Mr. O'Riley." Michael said.

"That I just might." I said. "But I don't do that anymore, Michael. In case you don't know, I've been out of the game for a couple years now. You're going to have to find someone else."

"You're the best of the best when it comes to the things you do…..Or used to do." Michael said. "Everyone knows that. And if there's one thing you should know about Neal Caffrey, it's that he is the best of the best at what he does, too."

"That may be true, but I told you, I don't do this anymore." I said.

It was silent for a couple seconds, then Michael said:

"If you don't accept this job, and get that diamond back, you will be nothing more than a liability who knows too much." Michael then lifted his suit jacket enough to show the gun he was carrying. "And we will personally hand you over to, I don't know…Jerry Vallinder."

Jerry Vallinder.

Out of all the people out to get me, he was the one who wanted me the most.

The one I conned more than anyone else.

"So?" Michael asked. "Taking the job, or not?"

"I'll take it." I said.

Michael gave the guy who took the bag off my head a nod, and the guy walked over to me and began to untie me.

Once I was untied and standing up, Michael held out a cell phone to me.

"Burn phone." Michael said, as I took it. "It will have everything you need to know on it. Including what the diamond looks like….I'll be in touch."

Then, Michael turned around and walked away. The men he came with, following.

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I sighed as I sat down in my seat on the airplane.

I can't believe this is happening, I thought.

I was going to see Neal.

After all this time.

Of course I knew Neal.

Michael, and anyone else for that matter, didn't need to know that.

Neal and I went a way back. We were partners.

Were partners.

Until he did something he promised he wouldn't do.

Ever since then, I haven't seen him, I haven't talked to him.

He tried to talk to me. Several times in fact. It was the reason why I had to keep changing my cell phone number. He would always find it somehow.

But I never picked up the phone.

I'm guessing he never found out where I went, because he never showed up at my door. Which, seeing as he kept finding my cell phone number, I knew he would do that if he knew where I was.

However, I have kept tabs on him. I knew where he was all the time.

I knew when FBI Agent Peter Burke finally caught him and sent him to jail, when he broke out of jail, and when he became a Consultant for the FBI.

I knew where he was currently living, and who lives with him.

Basically, I knew a lot of things about Neal ever since we went our separate ways.

Why was I keeping tabs on him?

Well, all because I was pissed at him, didn't mean I stopped caring about him.

I just didn't want to talk to him at the moment.

It's been years, yes. But it doesn't change what he did, and the hurt and anger that came along with it.

Well, Neal was going to get his wish now, I thought.

Neal was going to get his chance to talk to me.