Persona Non Grata

Neal was sitting towards the side of the conference room at the far end of the table sketching on a scrap piece of paper. He was present for the meeting, but as it wasn't ready to start, he was instructed to take a seat anyway.

Around him, two teams of personnel buzzed to get copies of the case files distributed, the powerpoint ready to go, determined who was going to be accomplishing what, and all of the details pertaining to working a joint case. The FBI side of the operation was being led by Peter, while the insurance side was being directed by Sara.

Why was Neal drawing instead of helping? Because he was in the time-honored dog house so his assistance was unwanted. He was the prime suspect for the theft of the treasure, and everyone was reacting.

In the office, Peter was keeping an extra eye on Neal and his activities while working to investigate him behind his back.

Jones and Diana were assisting. Peter and Jones had done a Polygraph Lie Detector Test in the middle of the night to both catch Neal off guard, and to keep their investigation off of the books. Diana had been participating in a more minor role as Peter hadn't needed her assistance as much, yet. It was inevitable that they would need their combined manpower in order to unravel the mystery of the treasure before they came to any solid conclusion.

Although the general office had no idea why things were off, everyone knew something was up, so they followed Peter's lead and kept their distance.

Combining the reactions, Neal was receiving the cold shoulder from the office and hadn't seemed like a welcome member of the team in weeks.

The problem for him was that he didn't know why. One minute he had been happy Peter had come to his rescue and saved his life, and the next Peter was livid with fury while he accused him of stealing the treasure that had just blown up.

Neal wasn't an idiot. He knew he had been showered with bits and pieces of painted masterpieces combined with other debris from a wealth of lost history. It was sad really. So many people had been killed for those items, things really on the grand scale of life, and those same things were gone in an instant.

What bothered him the most though, was that Peter really thought he was heartless enough to steal a treasure gained by mass murder. Why would he want blood money so tainted as to have caused millions of people to have lost their lives? That wasn't even mentioning Kate's death, Mozzie's near death, and the dangers Peter, Alex, and Neal had been put through over it. Really, it was rather ludicrous to think he would want something like that.

Still, Peter was so adamant as to the reality of the theft and determined to prove him guilty of it, that there had to be something. Peter wasn't the type to get worked up over nothing, so there was evidence of some kind.

That led Neal to another problem. If there was evidence, what was it? Peter wouldn't tell him why he suspected him, only that he would have to wait until he had proven his guilt.

Apparently, Peter was also certain he would falsify evidence in his own favor to get away with committing such a large scale theft.

Sighing to himself, Neal was amazed by how little it could take to destroy a friendship and how lost he was to do anything about it.

In addition to all of the office issues, his personal romance hadn't managed to skip the flames unscathed.

Sara also believed in his guilt and actually thought he would sacrifice their relationship for some pretty trinkets and going back on the run again. Although there wasn't solid proof of it yet, she believed his greed was strong enough for him to betray his friends. So, she had ended their relationship.

"You live in the clouds… and I live on West 96th."

She had spoken to him like he was a lost cause like his head was in the clouds seeking the next rainbow leading to a pot of gold. It was as if he wasn't capable of living a normal life, of falling in love, or even understanding what it meant to sacrifice for a friend. Based on her tone, you would have thought he was a heartless criminal with no means of understanding anything beyond his greed and whatever it took to endeavor to satisfy it. Since greed is never satisfied, she spoke to him like he wasn't worth her investing in him for any more time than she had already wasted.

Then, as if those collapsing relationships weren't bad enough, there was still June and Mozzie who hadn't been covered.

June was still a gracious hostess and often welcomed Neal to join her for breakfast like she always had, but there was something different. She often shook her head sadly, like she didn't want to see him wasting his life on baubles when he had been on track for having a real life. It was like she was seeing her old friend Ford again. Neal was a criminal who was so intent on getting his 'last' score, that he missed out on having love, laughter, and friends to help him through life, the true treasures we are blessed with. Although she never directly said any of her feelings, she gave Neal enough extra hints and facial expressions that her message got across.

Even Mozzie was acting distrustful. He kept asking questions about what the treasure looked like and alluding to the possibility of Neal having stolen it for himself. It was like he felt insulted Neal had completed the theft of a lifetime behind his back and betrayed because he wasn't being included in the payout. After several rounds of 'alleged' conversations to discuss how Neal might have accomplished it and how they could spend it in purchasing an island getaway, Mozzie eventually gave in to Neal's greed.

"If you don't want to share, it's your choice. But I thought we were friends Neal, that you would include me in any major plans. I guess I was wrong."

The little guy had left in defeat and Neal hadn't seen anything of him since. He was still around, June was in contact with him and he suspected that Elizabeth still had her lunches with him, but Neal wasn't on his rounds anymore and he couldn't confirm his suspicions with Elizabeth. They hadn't talked since their double dinner date the night before everything fell apart.

Zoning out as his pen continued to move, Neal continued to draw his pictures within pictures. It was something like the Intersect in the way he was hiding his thoughts in plain sight, but within another image to hide them from scrutiny. He felt like an outsider with his friends, which was an unpleasant echo from the past, so he hid his feelings from them and continued to do his job.

"Neal." Peter barked when he was ready for Neal to be paying attention.

Focusing back on the world around him, Neal looked up and stopped drawing. "What?"

"Go get coffees. You know the usual orders for the office. Ask Sara's people what they want before you go too." He dismissed him.

"Coffees coming up." He complied as he laid his pen down. Obviously, they weren't going to actually invite him for whatever was being covered in his absence.

Walking down the stairs, Neal made a mental list of the coffee orders for the team. Making his way around the room as he went, he collected the requests from the visiting team before getting his things from his desk.

Striding along, he made his way to the elevator and began his descent to the lobby. It figured that no one was in the car. He shrugged to himself as he thought it didn't matter, they would have ignored him anyway.

Exiting the car in the lobby, he walked out of the building and onto the street outside. There he was nobody in a mass of nobodies. He was just another person in the swell of pedestrians going from one place to another and there was something freeing in that. No one was giving him dirty looks as they were simply passersby who continued on their way without affecting him at all. The anonymity was refreshing after the hostility.

Weaving his way through the throng with practiced ease, he worked his way to their favorite coffee shop just down the street.

Seeing there was a line, he settled in to while away the time and hoped the delay would give the team plenty of time to complete their tasks before he returned.

Observing the other patrons, he watched as people did simple things like chat with their friends, tended to their children, or were simply seeking refuge from a hectic day. There was nothing unusual to the crowds in front of him.

Turning to stand sideways, he moved for a different perspective.

Out on the street, a young woman was walking by in torn jeans, a jacket over her henley, and a white scarf hanging around her neck. What drew Neal's attention to her though was how she wore her hair. It was slightly long, most of it hung over her shoulder in a rough braid, but a large clump of it was hanging in front of her face to provide a brown shield for her to hide behind. She appeared to be homeless and hungry, but she didn't enter. Likely, she didn't have enough money to buy anything so there wasn't much point in coming in.

While Neal watched, she stood outside the door and asked if anyone would be so kind as to purchase a sandwich for her. She didn't ask for money, just a simple meal.

Unable to watch without doing something for her, Neal started planning.

When it was his turn in line, Neal gave the order for the team and himself first. Then after he had his intended purpose complete, he made an additional request. "Also, can I get a sandwich and a bottle of water as a separate order?" Paying his bills, he put the FBI order on his work card, but the other food he paid for in cash as it was a personal mission.

Gathering his purchases as they were finished, he piled the boxes on the table nearest the door and settled the bags beside them. Moving outside, he approached the girl.

"I have a sandwich and bottle of water, but I have one request for you." She looked nervous like she had heard such comments before. Waiving her concern aside, he continued before she could go any further in the wrong direction. "Nothing like that. My friend runs a shelter only a few blocks from here and I texted him to expect you if you would like to go there. He and his wife will provide any help or services you may need at no charge." Then he passed her a card with the place's location and information.

Feeling less threatened, she took the card and meal before wandering off in the direction of the shelter.

Hoping she would take his friend up on the services he provided, Neal returned to reclaim his purchases. Sliding the bags of food up his arm, he lifted the boxes of drinks and carefully balanced them between his hands.

Taking the trip back to the office at a slower pace, he worked to avoid the foot traffic and retain his grip on the stack of drinks. It wouldn't do to spill any of them, and the other people were focused on their destinations so he had to be observant.

When he arrived back at the building, he rode up the elevator alone again and made his way back into the office.

"What took you so long?" Peter asked as he came down for his coffee and food. The meeting had obviously ended so the office was looking for their refreshments.

"There was a line," Neal answered honestly. He wasn't going to lie about why he had taken so long, but he also wasn't going to divulge any details as to his extra task. It wasn't work-related, or anything of the team's business. Besides, they probably wouldn't believe he would do a random act of kindness anyway, they were all certain he was too greedy for any such behavior.

Feeling a vibration in his pocket, he stepped back from the rush of personnel collecting their food orders and coffee that wasn't the office mud.

Reading the text, he smiled to himself as the message said the girl had taken him up on his offer and arrived at the shelter. Neal was relieved to learn she would receive the proper care and her situation would be investigated. Shooting off a quick message, he promised his aid if anything further was needed and planned for another talk after work before closing his phone.

With the meeting over and the office settled down to their tasks, Neal began working on his own morning list while eating his meal.

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