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Neal Caffrey walked, or strutted, rather, into the offices of the FBI with an excited grin on his face. Everyone's eyes turned to him. He had a way about him that automatically made him the center of attention everywhere he went. He was arrogant and humble, outgoing and reserved, and refined and dangerous all at the same time. Even those who hated him had a certain level of respect for him. Or maybe it was just jealousy. He was the kind of guy who could have even the most tightly wound women fumbling over their words. It was not just a matter of his looks, which he definitely was not lacking in. It was the charismatic manner in which he conducted all aspects of his life. He was perfect, seemingly, but, unfortunately for him, he had several flaws, which he carried with him around his ankle. An electronic monitoring anklet which he was required to wear at all times. Although many of the women who he had met over the years would be shocked to hear it, he was a criminal. A thief. A con-artist. A forger. More amazing, however, was the fact that this seemingly perfect man had gotten caught. Of course, it hadn't been an easy capture, but in the end, he was just as low and criminal as the other convicts who he was locked away with.

Neal made his way across the floor, completely bypassing his desk and heading straight for his partner's office. If he had been told four years ago that he would soon be working as a consultant for the FBI, he would have laughed. Sure, he could respect them for finally bringing him in, but working with them? Well, that was a whole other story. They were exactly the serious, boring, supposedly-intelligent people he had stolen from in the past. He certainly wasn't going to give up his thrilling life of crime to sit at a desk all day and do paperwork. Or, so he thought.

He reached his partner's door at the top of the stairs and knocked twice before walking in without even a response. He took his seat across from the desk and placed his hat on his knee. Peter Burke sat across from him with a case file in his hands. Alright, maybe he could have accepted getting caught, and maybe he would have been able to see himself working for the FBI, temporarily of course, but never, in a million years, could he have imagined that he, the infamous Neal Caffrey, would become partners with Peter Burke, the FBI agent who had finally caught him. Yet, here they were, and the strangest part was, he enjoyed it. Both of them did. The whole arrangement had started as a way for him to get out of prison for a girl, but now the girl was dead, most of his old friends had completely shut him out after hearing of his new work, and for some reason, he was still here.

"You're here early," Peter commented with amused smile. "I guess you got my message." Only a half hour earlier, Neal had received a message from Peter, telling him of their newest case: a robber at one of the most expensive jewelry boutiques in the city. Neal, of course, had rushed over right away. This wasn't their usual mortgage fraud case. This was going to be fun.

"Yeah. Can we go?" Neal was perched at the edge of his seat, trying to read the case file in Peter's hands.

Peter laughed at his consultant's eagerness, "What? You haven't been enjoying that paperwork I left for you?" Neal glared at him angrily. "Alright. Alright. Let's go." Neal shot up from his chair, flipped his hat back on, and quickly left the office with Peter following closely behind.

The two pulled up in front of the jewelry store fifteen minutes later. Neal had carefully read through the case file on the way there and then spent the rest of the trip excitedly tapping on the car door. It wasn't the most well planned heist. It looked to him like a two man team, they had picked the lock on the door, which triggered the alarm, but they avoided the cameras and were in and out in less than two minutes, so by the time the cops arrived, they were gone. Along with thousands of dollars worth of jewelry. Finding them wouldn't be a problem, Neal was sure of that, but he was so eager to get out of the office, he didn't really care what level of work they were dealing with.

"These guys could learn a thing or two from you," Peter said, getting out of the car and looking into the boutique from the sidewalk. Neal stood on the other side of the car and followed Peter's gaze. The store was a mess. Even from the street, he could tell that the place would be full of prints and evidence. The majority of the glass display cases had been completely shattered, leaving the floor covered with a layer of glass. Neal could see immediately that the men who had done this were complete amateurs. Only the cases in the front half of the store had been robbed. The back display cases were left entirely untouched. Anyone who had ever done such a heist before would know that the most valuable items were kept in the back cases. The ones these guys had missed. Neal shook his head in disgust. He would enjoy bringing these kids in. He followed Peter over to the store. They were about to let themselves in, when Neal's eyes fell on the woman standing in the center of the room.

"I—I think I'm going to—um—wait in the car," he said quickly and turned around, leaving a very confused Peter standing at the door.

"What?" Peter called after him. Neal didn't answer, though. He opened the passenger door, got in, and slammed the door shut. Peter was about to follow him, when one of the woman in the store let him in.

"Thank you so much for coming. We've been a complete mess this morning. We really hope you can help us," the young woman led him inside.

"Yeah. I—I hope I can too," Peter turned around, looking back at his consultant now pouting in the front seat of his car.

"I'm Jennifer. I'm the owner," she held out her hand, which Peter graciously shook. "This is Kathryn. She closed up last night and was the first to arrive this morning," Peter turned to address the woman he was introduced to, but his breath got caught in his throat the moment he laid eyes on her. She was older than Jennifer, probably in her late fifties, early sixties. She had curly brown hair with streaks of gray scattered around her roots. Even standing beside the young, blonde who had introduced herself as the owner, Kathryn was beyond gorgeous. This wasn't what had shocked Peter, however. It was her eyes that had left his head spinning. They were the brightest shade of blue you could imagine, and he would have been stunned by their distinctiveness it he didn't see those same eyes every single day. They were his partners. He had glared angrily into those eyes enough times to be certain that these were a perfect match.

"I'm Agent Peter Burke with the white collar division of the FBI," Peter said, trying to act as naturally as he could. "My partner, Neal Caffrey, is just waiting in the car," he had spoken the younger man's name just so he could say the woman's reaction. There was definitely a level of recognition in her familiar eyes, but she seemed puzzled by it, as if she couldn't quite place it. She thought about it for a moment and then shook it off.

"Will he be joining us?" Jennifer asked, confused by Peter's words.

"Actually, no. He—" Peter trailed up. Neal was the one who always came up with the clever lies. He was drawing a blank. "No. Just me," he said stupidly. Both women gave him a puzzled look, but then went on to fill him in on the details. Peter was hardly paying attention, though. He couldn't take his eyes off of Kathryn and her piercing blue eyes. He would definitely need to have a word with Neal back at the car.

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