Choices are made in brief seconds and paid for in the time that remains. One decision made differently can change everything – especially when a hidden treasure is involved.

After Mozzie put the card with the address on the table, he hesitated. Neal was the most trustworthy person he knew (at least one could trust into his loyalty to his friends), but he was also very close to the Suit. He had told Neal countless times that it was dangerous to become too attached. But wasn't that what he himself had done? His friendship with Neal had brought him closer to "The Man" than any crime ever had. Perhaps it was time to cut the strings. It would be easier to transport the treasure out of the country with Neal, but not impossible to do so without him. You'll get punished for breaking their rules, but caught for breaking your own, he reminded himself. And his most important rule was not to get attached. With a sigh, he retrieved the card and left the room. He had a flight to plan.

When Neal told Peter to "prove it", he hadn't expected him to yank him out of his apartment in the middle of the night for an interrogation. He hadn't expected him to use a lie detector on him. He hadn't expected him to keep him there until early the next morning.

His anklet back in place (the Marshals had picked it up from the street were Adler had dropped it and delivered it to Peter's office the precious evening), he was finally released early in the morning. Although he was tired, he decided to pay Sara a short visit on his way home before catching up on some sleep. Little did he know that his day was about to go from bad to worse.

Oh, it started out fine. Sara was ready to confirm his alibi. She was still acting flirty towards him. But when he asked her if she believed him, her answer was: "You're a damn good con man." It hurt more than he had expected. Kate had trusted him until she caught him conning her. Alex had always been able to read him. But there was nothing of the kind between him and Sara.

He had liked the thrill of letting one of his hunters come so close to him. He had thought that he was okay with waiting to see where their mutual attraction would lead them. But now he realized that he wasn't. With Peter gunning for him for something he didn't do, he desperately needed someone who would believe him, who would stand by him no matter what. He wanted what Peter had with Elizabeth. And Sara would never be able to give it to him. They didn't love each other; they were using each other to battle their own demons. He couldn't do it any longer. She didn't take the news well.

Feeling battered from the accusations she flung at him (most of them partly true – it had been convenient that she had been ready to risk so much for him – but he hadn't flirted with her just because of that), he came home to an empty apartment. Desperate for some friendly company, he left Mozzie a message.

After a shower, three hours sleep and a fast meal, he felt physically better. But now his mind was mulling over what Adler had said. He had been right. Neal had changed Kate, drawn her into the world of crime which ultimately killed her. But he hadn't pulled the trigger. Or pressed the button. He would have given his life for her.

His eyes sought out the empty bottle which had found a permanent place on one of the shelves. He had hidden it partly behind some other knickknack when things with Sara became more heated. Now he retrieved it and put it on the table. Following an impulse he began to draw the bottle. He gave up very quickly. His hands were trembling too much.

Again he tried to reach Mozzie. No answer. Most likely he had decided to lay low for a while, until the whole thing with Adler wasn't big news anymore. June was away for a couple of days. Neal studied his contact list. It looked much bigger than it really was. Most of the numbers were Mozzie's. Alex certainly wouldn't appreciate a call from him after everything that had happened. The other numbers were for Peter, Elizabeth, Jones and Diana. Neal called nobody that evening.

The next morning he met up with Peter, who was still treating him as if he had done something unforgivable. Neal tried desperately to clear the air between them.

"What's wrong? What happened to turn you against me?"

"I turned against you?"

"Peter, we are a team! Look at this!" Neal showed him the headline proclaiming their success. Why didn't Peter understand? Now that Adler was dead, his last reason for slipping his leash was gone. They should be closer than ever.

"This is our job. Let's not make a big deal out of it," Peter dismissed him. He really didn't seem to care. In fact, he was downright hostile the whole day, and even when he gave Neal a new case, he dropped thinly-veiled hints. He really seemed to believe that Neal had planned something big behind his back.

That evening, Neal desperately hoped that Mozzie was waiting for him. He knew that his friend would show next to no sympathy for him (after all, he was the one who had decided to deal with "The Man"), but he might be able to figure out what had caused Peter's ire. Alas, Mozzie was still a no-show.

Things looked up the next morning. June was back and just seeing her and Cindy at the breakfast table helped to cheer him up. And whatever Peter suspected him of, he still trusted him enough to send him undercover.

But he still kept his distance from Neal. Their usual banter was stiff and Peter gave it an aggressive edge. He even kept Neal's cut tie, visibly relishing his humiliation.

Neal's new strategy was to prove himself with good work. In between organizing Lawrence's departure (and the trap for him), he voluntarily looked over a mortgage fraud case – and solved it. Nevertheless, Peter stayed suspicious. When he took him off anklet, he set stricter rules than usual. Neal wasn't surprised to discover that Jones was following him at home. June and Cindy were visiting a gallery opening. And there was still no word from Mozzie.

Jones wasn't surprised that Peter ordered him to keep an eye on Neal. But he was surprised that the task proved to be unusually dull. Neal went straight home, no suspicious behavior at all. One hour later he opened the front door. Jones was ready to follow him, but Neal made no move to leave the house. Instead he beckoned Jones closer.

"Why don't you come in?" Neal asked. "I don't intend to go anywhere today and my apartment is more comfortable than the street."

One should always be cautious in following Neal's suggestions, but Jones figured that it would be easier to keep an eye on him if he were closer. Plus, he had never had the opportunity to see the apartment before and was curious if it was as lavish as the outside of the mansion suggested.

It was. And the view from the terrace was spectacular. So spectacular that Jones deliberately sat down with his back to it to make sure that he wouldn't get distracted from watching Neal.

"A beer?" Neal asked.

"I'm on a job," Jones reminded him.

"It's imported," Neal tempted, already placing a bottle in front of him. He opened a bottle of wine and filled a glass for himself.

Jones' curiosity was aroused. It was careless to risk getting drunk, but he really wanted to taste this. Plus, wine had much more alcohol than beer; as long as he stuck to one bottle he should be able to stay more alert than Neal.

Making sure that the bottle hadn't been tampered with (he wouldn't put it above Neal to drug him) he opened it and took a sip.

"It's good." In fact it had to be the best beer he had ever tasted.

"It's a German brew. The Reinheitsgebot really makes a difference in the quality."

"I get why you would prefer it over the domestic ones. You don't want any?"

"I prefer wine."

"Then why do you have ridiculously expensive beer in your fridge? For Peter?"

"I bought it a couple of days ago for the next time he comes around. But I figured if you're forced to be my watchdog, I can make it as pleasant as possible for you. He wouldn't appreciate it anyway."

Now Jones felt bad. If he read Neal correctly, he had bought the beer immediately after the "imported or domestic" joke. Diana told him about that a couple of days ago. Had Neal waited this whole time for an opportunity to surprise Peter with this?

But most likely that was the conclusion he was supposed to draw. Most likely he was supposed to feel uncomfortable about the way Peter was treating him. Neal was a master of manipulation. What had Jones gotten himself into? He wasn't as good as Peter with this kind of mind game. But if the con man thought that he would give up information that easily or let down his guard, he was mistaken.

One hour later, he began to doubt that this really was a ruse. He was now nursing his second beer. Neal's wine bottle was empty and while he still had remarkable control over himself, he was obviously fairly drunk. Nevertheless he fetched a second bottle of wine.

"I think that's enough," Jones said and took the bottle from him. "You shouldn't have drunk so much in the first place. You are on an undercover assignment, after all."

"Lawrence won't contact me before tomorrow," Neal protested, but he didn't fight Jones' decision in earnest. With a sigh he let himself fall into his chair in a very unCaffreyesque manner. "He was always very predictable."

"Is it difficult? To go against your old friends?"

"He isn't my friend. He is Gary Rydell's friend. Gary is more ready to overlook some of his character flaws."

"Such as?" The way Neal was speaking about his aliases in the third person was quite interesting. Was he really that detached from his other personalities?

"Lawrence is an arrogant sod. And he isn't above using violence. And a little bit paranoid. There's a reason I won't be bugged for the next meeting."

"Yet you had dealings with him."

"You can't really avoid those people in my line of work. Mozzie and Alex, they're the exception, not the rule. It's important to know where to draw the line." Neal smiled. "It's easier now. It'll be satisfying to see Lawrence go to prison."

"But you're turning traitor." Jones had always wondered about that. It seemed to go against every criminal's code, and Neal was in a sense a man of honor.

"I don't narc. I'll never give up my alleged partners in crime. That's the only reason I still have some contacts left. The only reason the underworld isn't constantly gunning for me." He let out a bitter laugh. "But I don't think I'll survive my next stay in prison. I'm not one of them anymore. And not one of you either."

"You're one of us."

"Then why are you here?"

Jones didn't really have an answer to that.

Peter was very fidgety while waiting at the harbor. Everything was in place for taking Lawrence down, but he had a bad feeling. Which was confirmed when Diana got a call from Neal.

"Kate? I'm here with a client. We're putting step three into effect."

"Neal? What are you talking about?"

"The client and I are moving the cargo to the airstrip."

"Are you talking about Lawrence? Is something wrong?"

"That's right. Make sure the plane is gassed up and good to go. Grab the suit and meet me there."

Diana relayed the message to Peter immediately. There was only one airstrip Neal could be talking about – the one on which Kate died – so they relocated as fast as possible. Peter commandeered a small plane and hid in it with two other agents, while Diana stayed outside, pretending to be the pilot.

Waiting for Lawrence and his men to arrive, Peter suddenly realized that this could be one big distraction by Neal. Perhaps he was on the run with Lawrence, the money and the treasure right now. But no, a black van was driving onto the airstrip. That had to be him.

Considering that the trap had been improvised at the last minute, Peter expected trouble. As soon as the henchmen and Neal left the van, he gave the signal. The sudden alarm from the two police cars which raced down the airstrip proved enough distraction to allow him and his team to take the criminals by surprise. Only the henchman who stayed close to the van had time to raise his weapon, but he was distracted by Jones suddenly pushing the door open. His weapon discharged, but the shot went wild. Peter used the opportunity to point his gun into the guy's face before he could cause more trouble. He gave up.

Seconds later, all the suspects were in custody and they could recover the lost money.

"You're all right?" Peter asked Jones, while Diana was freeing him from his handcuffs.

"Yeah, Caffrey had my back." Jones assured him.

Looking around for his consultant, Peter spotted Neal hunching behind the car. Although the danger was over, he made no move to stand up.

"Neal? Are you okay?"

"Yes." Neal took a deep breath before he straightened up.

"What happened?" Peter was referring to his rattled state, but Neal took the question differently.

"I saved the day again, that's what happened. Perhaps you'll give me back-up next time, instead of a watchdog." A very angry Neal stormed away.

Peter took a deep breath. It couldn't be easy for Neal to be where Kate died, so Peter was prepared to cut him some slack. Perhaps something had triggered a bad memory.

"Diana!" Peter called. When she turned up at his side, he gave her the anklet. "Make sure that he gets home as fast as possible. This place is not good for him."

Then he went to Jones to get details about his capture. "You know, Neal is right," Jones concluded his explanation. "Lawrence was ready to murder me. If he had become suspicious of him he would have killed him without a second thought, and we didn't give him any back-up at all. Instead I endangered him needlessly. And he risked everything for me. He positioned himself between me and Lawrence without raising suspicions to protect me. He also subtly stalled them, making sure that you would be here before us."

Peter acknowledged the point with a short nod. He had become careless. He shouldn't rely solely on Neal's ability to talk himself out of every possible situation.

"And for what it's worth," Jones added, "I don't believe that he took the treasure. He seems to be genuinely upset about the accusations."

"He is a con man," Peter reminded him.

"There is nothing which points in his direction," Jones retaliated.

Nothing, except for one thing. Peter was desperately hoping that the tests El arranged for him would prove him wrong.

Peter had never been so unhappy about getting proven right. Seeing the results he was now sure that this was Neal's painting. What should he do now? He couldn't use this against him. Never mind that he would have difficulties explaining why he had kept this from forensics, the chain of evidence had been broken. Any lawyer would have an easy time throwing it out. And if they couldn't prove that Neal had violated the terms of the work-release, he would be out in two years. If he survived that long.

"I nearly bought his act," Peter whispered, leaning into El's embrace. "He acted so hurt about the accusations I was starting to believe him."

"Well, perhaps you should ask him about it. There might be an explanation," El suggested.

"You're always taking his side," Peter said. "Do you trust him so much?"

"No, but I trust your instincts. More than your logic."

"The evidence is convincing."

"Your mind also was convinced that Neal's dash for freedom had an ulterior motive aside from finding Kate," she reminded him.

Peter mulled over his options for a couple of hours. It was Diana revealing the U-boat manifest which helped him to make a decision. With this new ace in his pocket he could risk revealing to Neal what he knew about the painting. He wanted to see his face when he learned that not all of the decoy art had been destroyed. And perhaps he could convince him to give the treasure up. Together they might be able to figure something out which would keep Neal out of prison.

Neal was positively beaming when he turned up at his doorstep.

"Peter! Good to see you. Look, I'm sorry about blowing up on you."

"That's okay. I have to talk to you."

Neal's smiled vanished immediately.

"Yes?" he said warily.

"Did you steal the treasure, or do you know who has it?"

"I didn't. I don't. But there is nothing I can do to convince you, is there?" Neal sounded resigned.

"There is something. You could show me your paintings."

"My paintings?" Neal was confused.

"Yes, the ones in the storage unit you mentioned to me."

"It's an art studio," Neal corrected him.

"Will you show it to me?"

"Sure."

Peter prided himself on being able to spot every tell Neal had. They were subtle, but when he was trying to hide something, he tended to control his body even more than usual. This time it really looked like Neal had no idea what Peter was aiming for. He didn't hesitate the slightest in guiding Peter to the art studio. And he looked genuinely surprised when he found it empty.

"That's not possible."

"You have no idea where your paintings are?"

"Not the slightest."

"Are you sure?" Peter pulled the piece of canvas out of his briefcase. Neal stared at it, dumbfounded.

"From the warehouse?" he guessed, seeing the burned edges.

"Fell directly in front of my feet." This time there wasn't a hint of accusation in Peter's voice.

"I didn't exchange the treasure for my art. And I have no idea who did."

"It had to be someone who knew about this storage, and where Adler's hideout was." There was only one person who came to Peter's mind, and Neal's crestfallen face suggested that he had come to the same conclusion.

"I suspect Mozzie knows about this place, doesn't he?" Peter mused.

"Perhaps," Neal mumbled.

"And he could've backtracked the signal from the fractal antenna. He wasn't at the FBI during the debriefing. Enough time to swap out the art." Peter's voice became stern. "Where is he, Neal?"

"I have no idea. I haven't seen him since the thing with Adler went down. I thought he was laying low for a while after everything that happened. It's not unusual for him. I was sure he would be back as soon as he calmed down a little bit."

"Would he leave that easily?" Although Peter didn't say it outright, his true question was: Would he leave you that easily?

"He would never say goodbye. It's his first rule. Never get attached." Not even to me.

"So he is most likely long gone. With the treasure." And he left you hanging dry.

"He knows I have an alibi. I guess he didn't expect that a piece of my art would survive the fire." He is still my friend. "Nobody aside from us suspects what he did." Can't you let this go?

"Sooner or later the first pieces of the treasure will turn up. The secret of its existence is too big to be kept forever." I would protect Mozzie for your sake, but there is nothing I can do.

"The FBI will suspect me immediately. Like you did." You didn't trust me.

"This piece of canvas is the only thing which can be traced back to you. And I didn't give it to the crime lab." I wasn't ready to see you back in prison.

"They don't need any proof to revoke my arrangement. And my lawyer decided to go on an extended vacation." I'm more alone than ever.

"We'll have to tread very carefully." What ever the fall-out will be, we'll face it together.

"I have beer in my fridge," Neal suddenly said.

"Imported or domestic?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm in the mood to try out a new brew."

They left the art studio side by side.

A/N: This story was written for teejay as part of the fic exchange at Collar Corner. My thanks go to imbecamiel and canadianscanget, who talked my plot through with me again and again and again, and to mam711, the best Beta one can have.