A/N: This is an early birthday present for Ca Staub- because my college is re-staring tomorrow (oh, the torture) and I wanted to give you something for your birthday. I hope you like it, beautiful!

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to me, ME! ME! ME! *laughs crazily* In fact, Neal is currently hiding in my closet while I write this. If you believed that, you really need help. But seriously, Jeff Eastin if you are reading this (but you aren't coz come on. You have better things to do. Like, I dunno. Hang out with Matty B. instead of fantasizing about meeting him), its yours. White Collar is yours. Neal is yours. Very selfish of you, Sir. Please don't sue me. I don't own anything. Literally, nothing.

Neal had been waiting for Peter to call. He was sick and tired of playing games with Sam; it was time to find out who he really was, whether he could be trusted. Now Peter was at the Bureau, ready to call Neal the second the DNA results of Sam's blood came out. Neal knew that after the disastrous consequences of the boxing match barely two weeks ago, Peter won't hold out on him. Yet, his gut clenched in anticipation of something bad. Though Neal had often joked about Peter's 'gut feeling', few people knew that Neal Caffrey's gut possessed similar super-powers. After all, he had not survived for so long in his previous 'occupation' on looks alone; he had excellent instincts. And currently, he was feeling rather uneasy.

And then his phone rang.

And he felt as if he was underwater.

He had waited for this moment his entire life and this was not even close to what he had fantasized. But when had he ever gotten what he really wanted? He had lost his dream to become a policeman, he had lost his freedom, he had lost Kate, he had lost Ellen. If he lost any more, he would lose himself.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That you're my father."

Sam stood up and drew Neal into a hug that he couldn't return, not when his limbs felt like lead.

"I wanted to."

"But, you didn't."

"Its not that simple, Neal."

This was toomuch toomuch toomuch. He didn't care right now that Sam...James... his father looked broken hearted when he shrugged out of his embrace. He couldn't listen past the pounding in his head. He had to get out. He needed to compose himself before he did something that he would regret.

"Neal, wait! Please, let me explain!" Pleading blue eyes met his own, and how could he not have known? How had he never noticed before that Sam had the same eyes as himself?

"James, he just needs some air." And then Mozzie was there, handing him his hat as he gently pushed Neal towards the door, giving him a look which clearly said, 'Go, I'll keep an eye on him.'

He should have known that Mozzie would understand. Even if it was a little annoying sometimes, Moz knew him inside out. His quirky friend had never failed him. Neal nodded his thanks as he exited his apartment. Screw fresh air, what he needed was alcohol. Loads of it.

WCWCWCWCWCWCWCWCWCWCWCWCWC

Sara was heading over to the Sunset bar. Peter had called her not twenty minutes ago, his voice concerned as he asked whether she could do him a favor and check up on Neal. Apparently, the con-man had been at a bar for the past three hours (Of course, Peter knew that. His habit to check up on his C.I's tracking data a tough one to break), which was unusual in itself. The main cause for Peters' concern though, as he had informed Sara, was that the young man had received rather shocking news just before he had headed over to the bar. Peter would have headed there to check up on Neal himself, naturally. Only, he had promised to give the young man space. But could she please check up on him? God knows the kid did stupid things when something like this happened. When Sara asked him what exactly happened, he had told her that it was Neal's story to tell- of course he had; Sara shook her head in annoyance as she told her taxi driver to change the direction.

Sara stepped out of the cab after paying the driver, taking a moment to compose herself. Neal Caffrey and she were no longer an 'item'- she knew that. She was the one who had initiated the breakup in the first place. The only reason she was here was that Peter had requested her to check up on the con man- that's all. She was in no way worried about her ex-boyfriend. She kept repeating it like a mantra in her head as she made her way towards the dimly lit pub, pushed the door open and scanned the area for Neal.

She saw him sitting at the bar, draining a glass of amber colored liquid and replacing it with another one even as she made her way towards him. Damn him, even drunk and disheveled the man managed to look like he stepped out from the cover of a magazine.

"Neal." She had tried to project a casual demeanor as she placed herself on the stool towards his left, casting a death glare at the brunette sitting on his right. She was obviously trying to take advantage of him, and Sara being a good friend couldn't allow for that, could she?

"Hey Sara, whatcha doin' here?" He slurred slightly, and damn if she didn't want to give him a hug for whatever reason he was at a bar getting drunk.

"Neal, what are you doing here? If I'm not mistaken, you have quite an impressive wine collection." She said, waving the bartender away as he came to take her order.

"What? A guy can't go out for a drink?" he said, trying to give her a smile which turned into a grimace.

"You don't drink, Neal." She gave him a disapproving look which Neal countered with an incredulous look as he ordered bourbon.

"You drink wine, Neal. Not hard liquor."

"What does it matter to you, Sara?" his voice had now turned darker, his tone colder. His body language screamed 'stay away'.

So, of course, Sara reached out her hand and squeezed his shoulder.

"Peter was worried." She said softly.

"Well, I'm fine. I was enjoying my night with Anastasia-" he gestured vaguely in the direction the gorgeous woman had disappeared in- "before you came."

"Neal, what happened."

"Its rather obvious, isn't it? You got jealous, coz you totally still want me." And there it was, that infuriating, charming Caffrey smile.

"Neal, I'm serious." She was now using her own powers of persuasion on him.

"I found my dad." His voice was dull, and monotonous as he downed another glass of bourbon.

"Oh! And?" She had thought that this would be a good thing.

"And my entire life was a lie, Sara. And I wanted to escape it, just for a night." Her heart broke when his voice wavered.

"Why don't you come over to my place? We can talk- just talk." She squeezed his arm gently as she spoke.

"Just talk?" he sounded so vulnerable right now, she was overcome by a desire to hug him.

"Just talk. About whatever you want. And then you can sleep on the couch." She told him, gently pulling him to his feet.

And then suddenly she was enveloped in a warm hug, Neal's cologne swirling around her and her brain stopped functioning momentarily.

"Thank you, Repo."

"That's what friends are for, Con-man."

A/N: Thank you for reading. Uh, yeah. Not one of my best works, I'm afraid. And I have absolutely no experience with bars or alcohol, so please forgive my mistakes on that. Also, this was un-betaed. After saying all that, Please review. Reviews feed the author!