So. i am obbsessed with White Collar. And i am proud of it. Let's get this show on the road. I think I've used up all my character captives, so let's recycle.

Me: hallo Cara.

Cara: I like this one. Shooting. Death. Blood. *crazy face*

Me: You and me both Cara. *to you guys* I think she's gonna cooperate better on this one.

Cara: *nodnodnods*

DIscLAimER: Ok. I don't own White Collar. But i do want a piece of Neal Cafffrey. Or all of him. All of him sounds good...

ONWARD!

Cara: STOP saying that!

Me: but it-it's my thing!

Cara: I hate your thing!

Me: *gigglegiggle* That's what she said.

Cara: O.o Who is she?

Me: mind.

He stretched. Already he knew it was going to be an interesting day. Rolling out of bed, he peeked into her room and smiled. She was sprawled on the bed, her sheets everywhere, her eyes closed, mouth slightly open, drool dripping down her chin.

He smiled again.

She was perfect.

Just perfect.

He padded down the hall, making sure not to wake her, knowing there was already one person up in the house and tried not to show his annoyance as he heard the blender going.

If he woke her up…

He shook his head. the poor girl needed her sleep. He was going to kill him.

Making his way to the kitchen he stopped as he saw his friend making a power drink, blending all sorts of disgusting things into the blender and licking his lips in eager anticipation.

He rolled his eyes.

"Hey, cool it with the blender, will you?"

His friend turned around, startled. "Don't do that. And anyway, why? The princess still getting her beauty rest?"

He smiled at the memory of her. "She is."

His friend snorted. "Fat lot of good that'll do her."

He walked over and smacked him upside the head. "Hey, no dissing her while I'm around You got that?"

His friend laughed. "Overprotective, are we?"

He laughed now. "I'm supposed to be, remember?"

And he did.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The two men in the kitchen looked at each other, confused. "Expecting anyone?" his friend asked him.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," he responded.

He nodded to his friend and they moved out of the kitchen and into the outer room, where the door was. They snuck around and then he quickly ran and unlocked the door. He went back to his place by his friend and together they waited.

The door swung open as it was kicked in. the person in front of them was the last person they expected to see. She wasn't even supposed to be in the country. "What are you-"

He was cut off by her.

Holding a gun.

"Where is it?" she asked.

He looked at his friend, both hands up and nodded for him to do the same. "What are you talking about?" he asked as his friend grudgingly complied.

She cocked the gun, switching the safety off. He swallowed. "Don't play stupid with me. Where is the music box?"

He swallowed. So that was what this was all about? "Put the gun down. Let's talk this out. There's no need-"

"Shut up!" she exclaimed. "You're not going to smooth talk your way out of this one, so just shut up and tell me where it is!" She was angry, that much he could see, and willing to do whatever it took to get what she wanted.

"I don't know. I don't have it," he responded calmly.

She put a bullet through the ceiling, plaster raining down on them. "Don't bullshit me. Don't. I know you have it." She grinded her teeth. "Where is it?"

Before he could speak, a figure walked into the room. It was a young girl, sixteen maybe, stretching just as the he had done less than five minutes ago. She yawned, mouth open and wiped the drool from her chin, unawares to what was going on. She had been the girl sleeping.

When she opened her brilliant blue eyes though, she was greeted by the scene and took a step back toward the windows. "Hell's belles, what's going-" She was cut off by the gun making its way to her. Swallowing she looked to him and said, "Friend of yours?"

He resisted the urge to laugh, seeing her so calm with a gun to her face. "Used to be."

She sniffed in the woman with the gun's direction. "Well, I don't approve. Glad you stopped seeing her."

He nodded, eyes glue to the gun that was trained on her. He felt his heart in his throat. He hoped she would watch her mouth. He couldn't stand it if she-if she was…

Gunned down.

He turned back to the woman, his friend making his way away from them in the background slowly, trying to get to the phone without her noticing."Point the gun away from her. She has nothing to do with this."

But the woman ignored him. "Who is she?" She sounded confused. "I've-I've seen her before. Where have I seen you before?"

The girl swallowed, realizing that this was becoming an issue. "Never seen you before, so… wrong person?"

But the woman was calculating, nodding to herself, glancing at the man beside her. "You look like…" She turned to him and he winced. Wrong move on his part. She aimed the gun at the girl's chest. The little thing didn't even bat an eyelash to her dismay. "Get me the music box, or she dies."

To both the man and woman's surprise, the girl burst out laughing. She laughed until she had tears coming down her face, laughed until she had to brace herself on her knees. She finally straightened, the adults looking at her as if she was crazy.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping tears of laughter away, giggles bubbling up from her mouth. "But that was hilarious. I'm writing you off as a cliché. You mind?"

The woman looked at the man. "Oh. My. God." She cocked the gun again. And then she shot at the girl, missing her by inches, the bullet hitting the glass. He screamed out, relief flooding him when he saw the glass break instead of the girl. The woman looked to the white faced girl and then to him. "Give it to me." She glanced at her handiwork and the said, "Or the next one goes between her eyes."

"I doubt you're that good of a shot," the girl said and the woman's eyes returned to her. The only problem was that, the girl was so serious, no ghost of a smile on her face, no taunt in her eyes. She was being serious, as if she knew the woman on a personal basis.

"Shut up," she hissed.

By this time, his friend was almost to the phone, having flinched when the window was shot at. He was almost there…

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, trying to give him some more time, but his eyes on the girl across the room.

The woman didn't laugh, didn't smile, but was plain serious. "You know why. I need that music box."

"But you gave me the missing piece-"

"So you could hold onto it for me for when I came back with the rest of it. Did you believe I would actually give it to you?" She laughed now, and something about the way she did it, set the girl's skin with goose bumps.

"It was you," she said, anger, hurt and sadness in her voice. She looked to him. "Don't you see? It was her. She's the one who told them where she was. She's the one." The girl's gaze went back to the woman with the gun whose face was turning an angry red.

"You filthy little-"

"You betrayed your best friend? Watched her burn? Watched her die?" the girl was on the verge of tears. "I can't belive-"

Suddenly the woman had the gun level to the girl's chest and had her finger on the trigger. He saw it in slow-motion, her finger pressing down, the bullet about to fly out. "NO!" he yelled.

He made to stop the woman form shooting, but she had turned to him, the bullet flying out and burying itself in his chest. He was aware of the screams coming from the girl, the yells coming from his friend, the look of horror on the woman's face as she ran out of the room, out into the hallway and away. He felt the heat of pain sear up his chest as he hit the floor with a bang. He felt the warm blood pool around him, soaking in his shirt.

She was by his side in minutes, her heart beating so fast she was afraid it would burst from her chest. He was on the floor, blood everywhere. "NO!" she screamed, "NO!". Her knees were in the puddle of blood surrounding him, her pajama bottoms stained red, as well as her fingers that were gliding over his chest, her eyes looking despairingly at the blossom of blood on his chest.

"No," she kept muttering, as if that would make a difference, "No."

His friend had the phone in his hand, unable to move he was in so much shock. She got up for a brief moment, tears stinging the backs of her eyes, and snatched it from him. She punched in the number she had been made to memorize and waited impatiently as it rang, her heart clenching as the seconds ticked by and his eyes closed.

Finally, the phone was picked up. "Peter Burke spea-"

"HELP!" she screamed into the phone. "Help, please help!" She was in a panic, that much he could tell.

"What? What's wrong? Are you guys alright? What's-"

"He's been shot," she said bursting into tears and making his heart hurt more than the bullet that had permanently wedged itself in his chest. His friend could only stare. Just stare as the horrible truth dawned on him.

Peter's voice was tense. "Who'd been shot? What are you-?"

"Neal," she sobbed. "Oh God, Peter. Neal's been shot."

One Year Earlier…

Neal got up. He was going to be late if he didn't get a move on. And Peter hated it when he was late.

He sighed to himself, as he pulled on a suit, tying his tie at his throat and running a hand over his face to check his beard. He could wait to shave. The thought that ran through his head though, was this: since when did he care what Peter though?

Since forever, he admitted grudgingly to himself. Since…

He pushed thoughts of Kate out of his mind. It was a good morning. He wasn't going to ruin it.

Making his way to the outer room, Neal smiled. "Hey Moz," he said as he went for the door.

"Good morning Neal. How was your sleep?"

Neal slowed. "Fine… And you?" Before Mozzie could utter a word, Neal cut in with, "Wait, why do you care how I slept?"

He smiled. "I don't."

Neal sighed. "Look Moz, I gotta get going. Do you need anything?"

His squat friend sighed. "No. Go, go. Go be with your government suits."

Neal smiled and walked out the front door, a smile on his face. Today was going to be a good day.

How could he know how wrong he was?

Neal walked in, smiling, and immediately saw Dianna. "Hey!" he said as she waved him over. "Where's Peter?"

She rolled her eyes. "Off getting coffee, probably wondering why it tastes like sludge."

He gave a bark of a laugh and then said, "And Jones?"

This time, Diana had a look of confusion on her face. "I don't know. He got called down for something earlier this morning and said he'd be back in ten, but, he's been gone for almost an hour now." She frowned. "Now that I think of it, Peter's been gone for more than an hour too. You think something's wrong?"

Neil shrugged. "Probably someone giving them a little bit of trouble. Nothing they can't handle."

"You're right on the first, not on the second." Neal turned around to find Peter standing there with a grim smile on his face. "And you're late."

Neal rolled his eyes. "Yeah well…" He shook his head. "What's going on down there?"

And then, something crossed Peter's face that made Neal feel uneasy. And he never felt uneasy, especially around Peter. "What? What is it?" Peter's eyes flicked to Diana and she left to go see to other matters. This unnerved Neal even more. "Peter…" he said again.

"Come with me Neal."

Neal followed Peter, silent for the first time in a long time. What was going on?

They made their way to the first floor, where a commotion could be heard. Peter walked a bit faster, Neal keeping pace and when they reached the front office, he blanched.

There, in the midst of several officers, Jones included, was a young girl of about sixteen. She had stark, raven hair and arresting blue eyes and seemed familiar in more ways than one to Neal.

"Who is she?" he asked Burke. "And why is she making a scene?"

Peter shook his head. "Wouldn't I like to know. Come on."

They made their way over, pushing men aside until they got to the girl. She had this defiant, yet devious look in her eyes and Neal was suddenly arrested by a sudden surge of nostalgia.

She reminded him of…

"Kate," he whispered.

Peter looked over to him. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Let's go meet her."

Peter looked at him, then at the girl in front of him who was arguing with the woman at the front desk. "… want to see him. Now! I don't care if you think I'm too young. I don't care if I don't have a fucking appointment!"

Neal winced at her usage of language. The girl seemed angry, but he couldn't begin to fathom why. She turned then, as the secretary went quiet and the scowl she shot at Peter and Neal was of absolute hatred.

"I hope you're here to get me to Mr. Neal Caffrey. 'Cause if not, then can it. I don't give a f-"

"Present and accounted for," Neal said, his heart hammering, although you couldn't tell by looking at him. "Neal Caffrey at your service."

The girl's eyes flicked to them and he saw something there, something he couldn't place.

"Where's Kate Moreau?" she said, venom in her voice.

Neal stepped back as if she had slapped him in the face. "Wha-what?" he asked. What was she talking about? She couldn't be talking about his Kate? She couldn't be.

"Where is she!" she exclaimed. "Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about. I know you do. She told me if anything happens to find Neal Jeffry Caffrey. You're him. So where is she?"

Neal couldn't find his voice. Who was this girl? What was she talking about? Why did she want to find Kate? Why had Kate told her to come to him? Why?

"I-I…" he trailed off.

Meanwhile, Peter was getting everyone out of the room, save for Jones and whispering to him. Soon, the room was empty and it was only them. Jones had left to do an errand for Peter and the older man could only watch.

"Where is she?" the girl asked again.

Neal finally found his voice. "Why do you care?"

The girl looked incredulous. "Because she's my mother!"

Neal felt the world fall away. Her-her mother? How could that be? Kate wouldn't be with anyone else, save him. Right? He had to be right, or else what he was fighting for, fighting to find her killer, was for nothing.

Neal's jaw tightened. This girl was obviously mistaken. He had to set her right. "No she's not."

The girl stepped back in astonishment. "Excuse me?" she asked. "What do you mean she's not my mother?"

Neal shook his head. "She can't be. I'd have known."

She shook her head and looked at Peter who was even looking at them in surprise, wondering who was freaking him out more; Kate's supposed daughter, or Neal so vehemently rejecting the idea form the girl herself.

"Are you listening to this?" she asked Peter. The man could only watch. "How can the woman who's been raising me not be my mother?"

Neal started. She had been raising her? "What?"

The girl started to nod. "Raising me. She raised me until I was nine and then she sent me to boarding school in Maine. She visited me once a month after that. She always told me that if anything happened, to find Neal Caffrey. I wonder why. You're such a jackass."

Neal froze. He remembered Kate falling off the face of the world for about a decade and then meeting back up with him one day, as if they had run into each other. And it was true; every month she had taken a trip somewhere. He had been worried at first, but then, as it reoccurred, he was used to it and Kate would always be back a few days later.

"And then," the girl was continuing, "And then she disappeared. She spoke to me one month, looked kind of tense. Stayed throughout Junior Banquet and everything. And then, she just left. Just left." The girl looked as if she were about to cry. "She left and hasn't been in touch for months now." She wiped a tear away.

All Neal could think of to say was, "Who's your father?'

She seemed startled by this. "An art dealer my mom left. Haven't met him, don't know his name. Why? What does this have to do with my mother?"

"She's not your mother!" Neal said angry, not knowing what he was saying.

"Stop saying that!" she screamed back.

"Hey," Peter said, cutting in. They may have been alone, but, they really needed to calm down. "Guys, you might just wanna-"

"NO!" they said in unison. "Stay out of it!"

In more of surprise than in doing what they asked, Peter stepped back and let them argue it out. He just hoped Neal didn't do anything… stupid in his rage.

Wow. It was weird to think of Neal as doing something stupid.

Peter didn't like it at all.

The two returned to fighting. "Why do you keep saying that!" she yelled.

Neal looked uncontrolled. "Because I know her. I know her! She couldn't… she couldn't…"

"SHE DID!" the girl yelled. "I don't know why she told me to come to you. You who doesn't even believe me. 'Go to Neal, Cami', she said. 'If there's a problem, go to Neal Caffrey."

Neal stopped. Did she just say Cami? "Cami?" he said. "As in Cameron? Your name is Cameron?"

She nodded. "Yes. My name is Cameron Moreau. Where is my mother Neal Caffrey? WHERE IS SHE?"

Neal swallowed. Was Kate taunting him, even in her death? That had been a name he always loved. They had talked about baby names once, out of the blue. That had been his favorite. She knew that. She knew that.

And then she had named some other man's daughter with it.

"SHE'S DEAD!" he yelled.

Cameron froze, mouth half open, about to yell out a response when she heard him. "Wha-what?"

"She's dead, blown up in a plane," Neal said, without thinking how it would affect the young girl.

What happened next was not what he expected.

Because, she punched him.

He never even saw it coming, just landed on his backside and felt immense pain in his nose as he landed. When he looked back up, sporting a nose-bleed, the sixteen year old was cradling her hand to her chest, tears of pain going down her face.

But it wasn't just the pain of her hand. It was the pain of what he had just told her.

For a moment, as she sunk to the ground, in tears, everything went quiet for Neal. He wanted to hate the girl, Cameron, hate her. But he found he couldn't. How could he hate someone that was a part of Kate, a woman he loved so much?

He couldn't.

And so, he realized his mistake as the sound and color came back to the world.

Cameron was in a corner of the room, crying, screaming, "NO!". She was rocking back and forth, making the most pitiful noises Neal had ever heard.

"Oh God," he said, looking to Peter, who had a look on shock on his face. "Oh God what have I done?" He crawled to the crying girl, happy that she had punched him, knowing he deserved worse for what he had just done. He had just told an innocent young girl that her mother was dead. Right to her face, brutally and savagely. "Cameron?" he said to the shaking trembling mass. "Cameron I'm so sor-"

"Get away from me!" she shrieked. "Get away from me! I hate you! I hate you!" She pushed back and into the wall, trying to get away from Neal.

For some reason, the pain in his heart was far greater than the pain his nose felt.

Peter was calling someone on his walkie-talkie then, getting someone to come down and get Cameron, most likely. Neal could only sit and watch her cry, cry pitifully. He couldn't move, only felt numb.

Diana came in, Jones behind her, but only them. They took the scene in with quick eyes and confused minds, but rushed over to Peter and were debriefed.

Diana looked at him in surprise a few seconds later and so did Jones. At the sight of another woman, someone she could confide in, Cameron got up and started walking over to her, in hysterics, blubbering the whole way there. Diana saw her and walked over to meet her.

It happened so fast after that.

Neal saw the man in black on the top window, perched on the roof. He saw the sniper gun he had aimed on someone down below. He followed the line of the gun, saw it led to Cameron who was making her way across the room to Diana. He saw the man's finger going down.

It was like instinct. He had found a piece of Kate. He wasn't going to let her go. He jumped up and ran.

"Cameron!" he yelled. She stopped and looked behind her, looking at him with hatred and then with confusion. "Cameron!" he yelled. "GET DOWN!"

And then, he heard the click, knew the gunman had shot, knew the bullet was flying toward them at that instant. She froze, looking behind him, fear in her eyes. Neal threw himself at the last moment, knocking into her, toppling her to the ground. The bullet whizzed by them as he covered her with his body, grazing his shoulder and sending a bolt of lightning pain through him.

He felt her shaking beneath him, crying, from fear or sadness he couldn't tell, but crying nonetheless. He heard Peter and Jones yell, cock their guns and start shooting at the almost-murderer. But Neal knew he would be gone by then.

Neal rolled off Cameron and surprisingly extended a hand to help her up. Even more surprising, she let him haul her to her feet. And then, she looked at him and burst into tears. Instinctively, Neal took her into his arms and let her cry. She sobbed so hard, that they wracked her body.

He felt her pain.

First he had broken her heart and made her lose all hope of finding her mother. And then this.

Someone was trying to kill her.

And now, he knew why.

She was Kate's daughter.

Kate's daughter.

And someone wanted her dead.

Someone had come to finish the job.

Neal didn't like it. Not one bit.

And if he had a say in it, nothing was going to happen to this girl.

Absolutely nothing.

"I'll keep you safe," Neal whispered to her, as the other barked orders or ran to do them. Cameron just cried. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

So, what did you think? Cara, you first.

Cara: *drool* So-much-danger! *smiles* YES!

Me: Well, if Cara approves...

REVIEW!

And please don't prove Cara wrong!

Also, please rate Neal Caffery from 1-10 in your review! I need to know, cuz right now he's an infinity.

Just let me now if i'm wrong, cuz he is foine.

Cara: What is this...'foine'?

Me: I'll explain later, Carrie.

Cara: You promise? *scowl* And stop callimg me that.

Me: *sigh* I promise. 'Cross my heart and hope to die'! He He! I quoted Neal!

Cara: Technically, you quoted you, so...

Me: Shut up Carrie. Just-shut up.

Cara: STOP CALLING ME THAT!

Review?