AN: Okay so this just sort of popped out of my head and I felt the need to write it, so sorry if it's kinda cruddy and confusing! Reviews welcome!
Neal crawled out of the window feeling adrenalin rushing through his blood. He didn't even feel scared. He grinned wildly looking down at the neon orange canopy. All rational thoughts gone, he leaped.
The air caressed his body as he soared through the sky. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. His body finally made contact with the durable fabric and he bounded off of it onto the sidewalk below him. He sighed, now he just needed a cape, some tights and a blue shirt with the letter "S" on it. He was turning on his heal when he met a familiar set of eyes.
Peter stood just feet from him; his mouth was slightly open, his eyes were wide and one of his eyebrows was so high Neal had doubts he would be able to get it back to normal.
Neal stared as his partner a moment longer before shrugging and pushing his agile legs into motion. Behind him he could here someone yelling, "He's just jumped out of a window, now he's headed for that maroon van!" Neal chuckled and pushed himself harder.
Peter stood frozen, dumfounded, befuddled and just completely bewildered. A cop yelled something about a van, but he knew better. "Caffrey's not in the van," he muttered shaking his head and grinning ever so slightly.
He felt sick to his stomach. This morning he had found out the truth.
Peter listened halfheartedly to Elizabeth's new party that she was planning, unconsciously messing around with the phone. Accidently, he pulled the piece of plastic on the back of the phone off.
"Here, I'll fix it," El offered with a knowing smile. She knew some way Peter would jack it up; he never seemed to be good with that sort of things.
"What's this?" she asked, her face scrunching up in confusion.
"Hmm?" Peter questioned, taking the phone back and gazing at the blinking chip processing it in his head. "Our phone was bugged…" he breathed, feeling rage rushing into him. "Someone has been in our damn house!" he looked down, searching his mind for possible explanations. "Fouler," he whispered. "I knew he was acting weird at the office." The pieces moved into place in his mind. "Aw shit, Neal was telling the truth. He really was framed!" Peter said the phone call he had had with Neal earlier replaying in his mind.
Peter put his fingers on the bridge of his nose. Neal had to run right when Peter actually found out he was being honest. He sighed. For some reason he didn't bother telling the cops that Neal wouldn't be in the van.
He stood there for five minuteswaiting for the police to go and try to find Neal and be unsuccessful. He then walked to where the van had been. A sewer was directly under it.
"Ingenious," Peter muttered bending down to lift it up intending to go find his partner. He gasped at the awful stench that met his nose as he set the steal circle to the side. "You're lucky that you're innocent, Neal," Peter muttered lowering himself into the sewer and climbing down the side of the wall after putting the lid back in its place.
It was a lot darker down there than Peter had anticipated. He felt his heart speed up. He walked close to the wall avoiding puddles of miscellaneous thick liquid. He gulped quickening his speed until he started to hear voices.
"You need to come back up, what are you going to do down here? Plus the air quality is horrific." Peter froze at the voice that was most certainly not Neal's. "Really Neal, what's wrong?"
"Kate called." Peter's brows pinched together at the distressed and weak sounding answer that Neal gave. He had an idea who the other voice was now but it didn't let his heart stop thumping.
Peter continued to walk on, and then finally he saw them. It was a sad sight. Neal was pushed up against the wall sitting with his head in his hands. Neal's friend, Mr. Haversham, was bending down with a hand on his shoulder.
"Okay," Mozzie replied. "What did she say?"
"She wants me to give the FBI what they want."
"And what is it they want?"
Neal groaned throwing his hands to the ground. "That's the problem! I have no idea; she's too scared to tell me!" Peter could see Neal shaking. "Moz, what am I going to do? I can't help her if I don't know what to do!"
Mozzie was quiet watching his friend closely.
Neal's head jerked up. "Peter," he whispered.
"What do you mean?" Mozzie said confused. "The FBI agent? He can't be here?"
"I heard something."
"So you just assume, it was-"
"Hello," Peter walked farther toward them so he was visible; he assumed his cover was up anyway.
"What are you doing in here, Peter?"
"I think I should be asking you that," he replied. "You really shook things up jumping six stories. I knew the bakery wasn't just for profits." Peter said shaking his head with a slight admiration.
"Well you thought right; what do you want, Peter?" Neal asked.
Peter could see the bags under his eyes. "I know you're innocent."
"Okay, so now what?"
"Now we leave here and you go into hiding until I get this under control. I'll assume you know some places to lay low?" Neal nodded. "Okay, one more thing, how can I contact you?"
"Here," Neal handed him a slick black phone. Peter raised his brows. "It's untraceable," Neal explained.
"Right," Peter looked Neal over. "Can I have your word that you won't go too far and will actually come back once this blows over?"
Reluctantly Neal said, "Yes,"
"Good. Now I think you could use a good meal, I'll call you when this is over."
They nodded and Peter went back the way he came praying he was doing the right thing.
"You really trust him?" Mozzie murmured to Neal. They were still in the damp tunnels under New York City and it just came naturally to whisper.
"Yeah, I really do."
"You think that's smart?"
"Peter hasn't lied to me yet."
Mozzie shook his head, "I just feel like something terrible is going to happen."
"Terrible things have already happened." Mozzie really did not like the monotone Neal's voice was taking.
"Hello, Kate," Peter said from behind the mahogany desk.
"Hello, Peter," Kate replied softly. "How did you get in here?"
"Surprised to see me? You assumed I had no idea where you were I guess? You've really got Neal worked up." She was still quiet so Peter continued. "Do you really think its smart contacting him? I think I have most of this figured out, but I am curious about a few things, maybe you will do me the honor of answering truthfully?"
Kate opened and closed her mouth and fidgeted with her shoulder strap of her purse. "Well first, I would like to know how you became connected with Interpol? How much did you pay them to tell Neal it was the FBI holding you?" Peter narrowed his eyes. "Hmm?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," she stuttered.
"Oh, I think you do Kate. I really think you do. Now I think you should try to take the path of honesty or this is going to get extremely messy, and believe me, I'd rather it not just as much as you probably don't. So tell me, how did you, become acquainted with Interpol?"
Kate hesitated before saying, "I was at a bar…" She paused. "They found me, really. They had heard about Neal's talent with art forgery and they knew I was connected to Neal and had been in quite a few of his… schemes."
"Alright, so they were aware about what you and Neal were capable of, then what?"
"They were interested in him. And they didn't know he was in the FBI… or so I thought anyway. Soon they told me they had an interaction with him but someone leaked had to the cops, they assumed it was Neal,"
Peter nodded, Kate's story fit so far. "Finally it was over and they had what they wanted, but, well somehow you found evidence about what they were doing and well you know where they are now."
"Right," Peter said slowly. "So, what about them getting Neal to stop trusting us? His phone call said that the FBI was holding you."
"I needed Neal to not trust you," Kate was starting to look frantic. "You don't understand, Neal stole from a lot of people! I'm just trying to get it back to them!"
"You want me, to believe that you're trying to give back all of the pieces not only Neal, but you, stole?"