A/N: Congrats, you have stumbled upon my first ever multi-chapter fic! I imagine you'll realize pretty quickly that this is not as strong nor as well written as some of my other pieces. This was my first ever attempt at anything larger than a one-shot and it certainly has its flaws, however I keep it up as a reminder of how far I've come. Its still important to me, despite it's inadequacies. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: No copywrite infringement intended. This was written strictly for my own amusement and is un-beta'd

Things Unknown

"Neal, its Sara, again."

Sara.

"I need you to call me as soon as you get this,"

I've wanted to call you every day for the past 3 months.

"I have something I need to tell you,"

I do too; it's been eating at me the way we left things

"It's important. Please, call me as soon as you get this."

Neal Caffrey knew it was the self-inflicted torture that kept him playing the message over and over again. His rehearsed return call responses often ranged from the clever to the pathetic yet he couldn't help himself. Her voice was like a breath of fresh air, a reminder of the brief soiree into the realm of happiness he'd almost had with her then effectively dashed to pieces. Neal would never admit it out loud, but he missed the woman desperately. She had been a distraction and a respite from the ever present anklet and the FBI missions. Plus, besides the initial hesitation, he could safely admit that he had effectively fallen head over heels in love with her. Though, even Mozzie wouldn't be able to beat that confession out of him. Sara's leaving had stung with more pain that he cared to admit and left a hole the size of a grapefruit where his heart used to be. Neal figured Peter had an idea what had happened. Neal had been moody and distant ever since that day Peter interrupted Sara and him on the street when every fiber of his being had been screaming at him to make her stay, say what needed to be said to make it right and fix the gaping fissure that had sprung up between them. He had agonized every day for the past 3 months over how things had ended between them.

"Were you going to say goodbye to me?" The chance was staring him in the face and he blew it, just like he blew it with Peter the moment Elizabeth was kidnapped. With Peter at least he was able to repair their tearing seams with strategic stitches but Sara; he had just let her walk away.

He was playing the message for the 50th time when Peter unceremoniously flopped himself into the chair beside him in The Van, proffering the wire Neal would have to tape to his chest. Neal grudgingly stopped Sara mid-sentence and put the phone down in a huff. He could have sworn he caught the slightest glimpse of a smile play across Peter's face at his obviously miffed mood. The agent, however, did not ask for details and Neal was grateful. He wasn't sure if he would be able to hold it all back. In fact, if Peter had asked at that moment, Neal probably would have told him everything. Instead, the agent ripped a rather large piece of tape from the roll and held it up for Neal's inspection with no further effort to hide his amusement. Neal scowled his disapproval but refused to do anything but begin to undo the buttons of his incredibly expensive Armani shirt, a recent find from Byron's attic.

"Listen, if you're not up…" Peter started but Neal didn't let him finish.

"I'm fine, Peter. Run through it with me again." Peter studied him for a brief moment then continued.

"You're playing the fence. Jones' task force set up this meeting with a man named Nikolas Cage," Neal's brow immediately rose in disbelief, "I know, but not the same guy," Peter said with a laugh. "You're a fresh face to go in and exchange the cash for forged passports. Take the case, walk away and we'll move in. Easy as pie." Peter explained and Neal nodded absently. This wasn't even their operation; they were only stepping in to help Jones take down a guy he'd been tracking for most of his career. The man was his Neal Caffrey, essentially. Jones had begged Neal to help with the operation, buttering him up with compliments.

"You're the only one who can handle things if they get sticky,"

"You're the only one I trust not to screw this up for me," but it all translated to, "I need a con man, and you just happen to be around and available." So here Neal was, letting Peter tape yet another wire to his abused chest. Honestly, he wondered how he didn't have scars from working with the FBI.

"Any questions?" Peter asked once Neal was tucked back into his suit and had slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"No, I'm good. Thanks," He answered, though internally he wished he had just a few moments to listen to Sara's message again, wonder at what she could possibly want to talk about when she'd ended things so decidedly.

"Alright, go get 'em tiger," Peter grinned, opening the van doors for his CI and handing him a briefcase full of cash. It was not lost on Neal that previously in their relationship, Peter would have been hesitant to hand Neal this much money. The fact that he handed it over with no look of discomfort or disdain had to say something to the newly rebuilt trust between them. Didn't it? "Good luck."

Neal stepped out of the van and a brisk New York wind tossed his hair and pulled at his pant legs. Peter closed the van doors at his nod and Neal made his way north towards the meeting place. Even at his slow pace Neal would get there a few minutes early so he slowed his steps even further and pulled his cellphone out for one more round of torture. He was halfway through entering his voicemail pin when he remembered the earwig and the inquisitive agent listening in on the other end. Sara Ellis had him effectively distracted and Neal angrily stuffed the cell back into his pants pocket.

"Get your head in the game, Caffrey" he chided himself internally, and rounded the last corner of his trip and entered the park where the meeting would take place. He spotted the mark almost immediately. The man was in a khaki trench coat and was facing the opposite way in which Neal was approaching. Sweeping his gaze over the surroundings, Neal saw no hint of the tactical team that was lying in wait for him to make the exchange nor of any private security the mark may have brought with him. Nothing stood out as unusual, in fact the park was quite peaceful and Neal let himself relax and conjure his patented inner conman calm. Perhaps this really would be, as Peter coined, 'easy as pie'. Neal approached the man with a smile on his face and a swing in his step. As the man turned, hearing Neal's approach, Neal already had his hand extended in friendly greeting. The man faced him, Neal's smile faltered and the world stopped dead.