Disclaimer: Just for fun, not for profit. Thanks to those who bring White Collar to life.

Inspiration: See the end of the chapter.

And now: On with the story!

Neal Caffrey was anything but happy to be called in on a Sunday. He was even less happy to find a dead body involved. Peering down in surprise and dismay, he recognized their most recent suspect. Investigating forgery and theft of a collection of rare books and Joel Magnus was their suspected forger. Neal drew back, swallowing hard. Magnus had been sliced up with an ancient pike. Blood was splattered on the door frame and floor.

Peter Burke's eyes followed his partner as he gave the dead man a wide birth.

"Do you really need me for this?" Neal grumbled.

Peter nodded. "We need to figure out why he was here and who killed him." He took a moment in his own analysis of the scene to appreciate his partner's reaction. The young man was pale and disturbed. Neal Caffrey was a walking contradiction. It took a cold narcissist to con people out of their possessions, to steal, and charm the victim. Yet Neal wasn't cold, not without empathy and compassion for others. Every time the agent saw Neal Caffrey's genuine sadness at a death, his eagerness to help the victims, he knew he was worth fighting to rehabilitate.

Neal frowned as he looked around at the museum. It featured an odd assortment of items, a private collection that had been made into a museum on the owner's death. The murder weapon was obviously the pike from a suit of armor that stood nearby. Blood covered the end still embedded in the victim. The other end looked well polished. "Did they wipe it down?" Neal asked, pointing at it but reluctant to look close.

"Don't think so. But I'll bet the killer wore gloves."

"Definitely." Neal shivered. "Even if he didn't plan a crime, it's freezing outside."

"Looks like a weapon of opportunity." Peter said calmly. "The question is, what was he after?"

Neal traded his winter gloves for latex ones. He started to walk around and inspect the windows. Peter walked with him, pointing out the other doors. He was avoiding the room closest to the body. The crime scene techs and medical examiner were moving in to deal with that, giving him an excellent excuse. His eyes took in the security cams. "Did we get any footage?"

"Jones is looking into it."

The cautious exploration of the converted house revealed that it was mostly untouched. Paintings still hung in place, china and glass cabinets were filled with labeled artifacts. Rope guards blocked access to certain areas. They proceeded into these rooms as well, touching nothing. If it was covered with dust, they noted it. If it was cleaned, they noticed that too. But so far the only thing they found that seemed off was the dead body with a pike in it.

Jones finally called on his cell. "You are not gonna believe what this guy died for. Come up and see this."

Peter and Neal hurried past windows on the flight of stairs, shivering at the drafts blowing the curtains around. They made it up to a small room in the attic where the security feed was set up. It was almost too warm in the small closed space, compared to the rest of the house. Jones keyed into the appropriate frames of the computer. "Here's where we first see anything odd."

Someone appeared in black, creeping into the side hall. The room was dark but the camera showed his height and weight in the low lights.

"That's Magnus." Peter stated.

"Then who is that?" Neal murmured. He leaned closer, studying the other figure which appeared to come from the front carrying something in a plastic bag. Whoever it was moved into the door where the body lay. It came out with something in hand, which it was stuffing into the bag which now hung limp. Magnus stepped out, and a conversation ensued. It turned violent. Magnus tried to take whatever the man was holding. The newer man pulled a gun out. Magnus jumped at him, twisted and they ended up fighting. Then the first man grabbed the pike and swung. They all winced as blood flew.

"So what did he die for? What was he after?" Neal asked.

Jones zoomed in. He adjusted for the poor lighting and Peter and Neal stared at it and each other.

"Is that...a teddy bear?" Peter asked.

"Yep." Jones said. His brows rose as he looked at the two standing behind him. "What do you make of that twist?"

Neal was frowning. "I guess we need to check out that room. Is there another way in?"

"No. But the body should be moved by now. Let's go."

Neal winced again, not thrilled to have to pass all that gore. But they trotted down the steps again, leaving Jones to collect the security footage as evidence.

The body, sure enough, was gone. Cautiously they hopped over the awkwardly drawn outline of a body left by the techs. Neal shook his head and jolted to a stop after only one stride. The lights had come on as Peter found the switches by the door. Peter drew a surprised breath behind him.

"Really?" Neal murmured. But he smiled and glanced back at Peter. The agent had a bemused look on his face.

The tough, eccentric who'd left the collection had an unusual room here. It was devoted to toys. Most particularly, to teddy bears.

"You don't suppose he mistook it for the gift shop." Peter came alongside him. His gaze swept the room. One teddy sat on an old fashioned black rocking horse. More piled on a couch, with a few old china dolls just for contrast. An old train track was set up around the room, complete with 'hills' that bolted into the walls. A teddy bear was the conductor sitting next to the train. Some of the bears were realistic, some had glass eyes, others buttons. They had curly or mohair or suede paws. One had a humped back. Several seemed to be burrowing under a quilt. Another was posed with it's paw on a metal toy truck, while another wore aviator gear and held up a model airplane.

"Wow." Neal said thoughtfully. "This guy really loved his toys."

"Okay, but..."

"Out of all the valuables in the house, he stole one particular bear and killed a guy over it. And Magnus must've known something was extra special or he wouldn't have tried to get it."

"So what do you know about antique teddy bears?" Peter asked. Neal always seemed to know something about anything valuable. So he was extremely curious as to his answer.

"I know the earliest ones were made by Michtom and Steiff at about the same time. It started with Theodore Roosevelt refusing to shoot a bear cub because it wasn't sporting. It's hard to say who made the first one." Neal shoved his hands in his coat pockets as he studied the room. They certainly don't go for the price of a Matisse or a Raphael but finding an early one in good condition they aren't chump change either."

"In other words, if the five year old wants to play with it..."

"You really would go looking for the gift shop. Damage one of these you could buy a whole warehouse of new teddy bears."

"But why kill for that one in particular?

Neal frowned. "I think we'll need to know more about that particular bear."

Inspired by: Mozzie's teddy bear and John J. Lamb's Teddy Bear Mystery novels