Notes: I was bored so I decided to start a new prompt fic. This time it's White Collar/Chuck. So, leave some feedback, maybe some words for me to write to and hang around.

This chapter's words are brought to you by KeJae.

White Collar/Chuck Prompt Fic

The spy game was a tough game. Bryce needed to fight. Sometimes, he even killed. It was like conning but, the stakes were high.

At times, it occurred to him that he shouldn't be the one making these decisions. Why should he decide between one life and many?

The con game was a tough game. Neal had to hide from government agencies more than ever before. Mozzie reappeared every few months with a new target or con or job for Neal to do. Neal became a legend because he pulled off the impossible.

Bryce didn't become a legend until he died stealing a computer the size of a football field.

Yet, no one noticed they were the same person.

Crying

Tears leaked out of his eyes. Bryce breathed slowly as he picked up his staff and stood back up. Before him stood his trainer. A master fighter and trainer. Bryce readied his stance. She mirrored him as she took her own stance.

Again, an attack he floundered to parry. A hit to his side.

Tears leaked out of his eyes. Bryce grit his teeth. He was a quick learner but he certainly wasn't on the level of this woman.

"Get up," she ordered. "If you think that's enough then you're going to die out there."

Never. Bryce decided as he readied his stance again. He wasn't going to die. He was going to make it through this hellish training.

He hadn't been trying to join the CIA but, now that he was here, he was going to be good at it.

"Out there, we wouldn't be fighting," he pointed out as he changed his stance. Something different might work.

She grinned a wolfish grin. He could see that she approved. He just wished he knew if it was because of his words or his change of tactics.

Stunned/Shocked

Bryce had to admit, he had been very sceptical. Who thought the CIA was recruiting kids not even out of college?

He stared at his badge. Mentally, he pulled it apart and went through the process he would take to forge one of these. It would be difficult to make it passable in all areas however, he had different approaches depending on what he needed the badge to do.

"Professor Fleming," he stated looking at the man across the desk. The Professor was short, almost completely bald and bespectacled. He bared a passing resemblance to another person Bryce knew.

However, while the other person spoke about conspiracies, this man created them.

"Taking a while for it to sink in, isn't it?" the Professor commented. "The world hasn't changed and yet, you've changed. Having passed training, you're now CIA, Bryce."

Bryce didn't know how to react. The only part of the training which bothered him was the combat skills. Everything else had been almost as easy as breathing.

Mozzie had taught him well. He was practically spy material the moment 'Bryce Larkin' stepped foot on campus.

"It's strange," Bryce agreed. He couldn't tell anyone and the Professor was his handler. He would come here to receive missions. He would be paid.

He had wanted to be a cop. This was his chance.

"Maybe a mission will help," Professor Fleming suggested, handing Bryce a package.

Bryce opened it and found plan tickets, a new identity and instructions for his mission. It was a simple switch-a-roo which anyone could pull off.

This was what the CIA considered a mission?

"Um..."

"Don't worry if you mess up-"

"Are you kidding?" Bryce questioned. "This is child's play."

The Professor blinked. "Really?"

Bryce stood up and tore up the instructions before placing a few scraps into the professor's bin. The other pieces would be discarded in random bins on the way back to his room. He had already memorised everything on the paper anyway.

He could memorise his new identity on the way back to the room.

"Get a bag which is the same as the targets and then execute an exchange without them noticing. After the training, I expected something like breaking into enemy strongholds."

"Are you complaining?" the Professor questioned with a cocked eyebrow.

Bryce thought about it. "Nope." Although breaking into places sounded fun. It had been a while.

Proud

Mozzie had looked on in pride when Neal; now known as Bryce, had been accepted into Stanford. Neal hadn't expected it. He had been stressed the past few months, expecting the FBI to locate him by this alias or the college to catch on to his false identity.

Yet, his story; Bryce's story, had held. Stanford had accepted him.

"Wow." It was all he could think to say.

"See, see," Mozzie said with a grin. "Told you it would work."

"Uh… yeah," Neal said. He could hide out in college for a few months, learning some interesting things he could take with him on his next con.

Family

This wasn't the plan. Bryce looked over at Chuck, asleep at his desk and felt something warm in his chest. This room was filled with college books and nerdy posters. It smelt of men's body spray, sweat and bug spray, even though the window was open. The dead bug in question, a spider, had been flicked out the window earlier that night.

There was a controller in Bryce's hands and the flickering of snow on the TV across the room. He got up and switched it off.

Chuck snorted awake.

"Forty-two!" he shouted.

"The answer to life, universe and everything?" Bryce countered automatically. A few months ago, that answer wouldn't have been automatic. He had been a nerd in high school, before he dropped out, however he hadn't shared that with anyone before Chuck.

He hadn't had anyone to share that side of him with. He had never imagined bonding with someone over Zork.

"And the page number I'm reading," Chuck said, sleep heavy in his voice.

"Really? Looked like you were sleeping," Bryce responded with a grin.

Chuck gave him a playful glare and waved the book around. "Don't act high and mighty with me! I know you haven't completed this week's readings either, Bryce!"

Bryce laughed. "That's because it's only Monday. I've still got, let's see, the rest of the week to get that done."

Chuck stared. "What else are we supposed to do?"

"Sleep?" Bryce suggested since Chuck seemed to be doing that earlier. "Or we could try that level of Mario again."

Chuck made a face and groaned. "No more," he moaned recalling the number of times they had died earlier that day.

"You know, I think it's a good idea," Bryce said, as if Chuck hadn't rejected it. He reached for the console and the TV, switching both on.

"You're a glutton for punishment, Bryce."

Bryce laughed and Chuck slid the chair over to join him, taking up player 2's controller.