Hey guys. As some of you may have noticed from some of my language, I'm not American and so sometimes write 'arse' instead of 'ass' or accidentally throw in some Aussie slang. I've tried to fix little bits like that, but if I miss things then I'm sorry and I'll try not to confuse any one too much with the crazy way I speak :)

I apologise if I've made any spelling/grammatical errors and once again I do not own White Collar, I simply enjoy abusing it's characters.

Neal and Elizabeth were watching movies when the phone rang. Elizabeth answered.

"Stacy Miligan? Yeah, she's a friend. Oh, they're both here? No, that's fine they're right. Ok, thank you." Elizabeth hung up the phone. "Stacy and John Miligan are friends," she explained to Neal who looked up warily from the couch. Out in the street a car backfired. It sounded very much like a gun shot. Moments later there was a knock on the door and Elizabeth went to open it. Neal sprang up from the couch.

"Elizabeth, wait!"

A woman around Elizabeth's age burst through the door followed with a man. The man held a gun.

"Liz I'm so sorry!" The woman burst into tears. "He just showed up at my house and he had a gun." Stacy took huge gulping breaths between each word. Elizabeth pulled her friend over to her and Neal stepped in front of both women.

"You're not the only slippery bastard around here Caffrey." The man grinned. "Your fed friends are currently indisposed. Some sort of commotion up the block. A hostage situation, all hands were needed."

Neal took a step forward. "Okay, you found me. You can have me. Leave Elizabeth and her friend and I'll go quietly."

The man laughed. "Oh but where's the fun in that?" The gun that he waved about went off sending two small charges at Neal. It was a taser, Neal thought briefly before the electric current coursed through him and the world around him faded to black.

...

Kate had always hated turbulence. Neal would tease her on flights and laugh as she clutched at his hand. Kate would be hating this, Neal thought groggily as he bounced. He wasn't enjoying it much either he decided and then he threw up.

There was a grunt of disgust from beside him but Neal couldn't find the source of the sound. He had been blindfolded. As he became more aware of his surroundings, and of the pounding of his head, Neal realised he must have been in a car or maybe a van given that he was lying down. The scratchy carpet under his cheek had given him a fiction burn.

He wondered if Elizabeth and her friend were alright and if they'd called Peter but then a stunning blow to the head cancelled all other thought and he sank once again into unconsciousness.

When Neal came to again he was no longer blindfolded, though the ground still felt like it was moving. His hands were tied together. Neal discovered this as he shifted slightly against the cold concrete and opened his eyes. He wasn't in the car any more he was in a room of some sort. Swallowing down his nausea Neal pushed himself upright. The room was small and dank. It had no defining features and the door on the far corner didn't appear to have a lock or a door handle. The dark little room had no windows. The small amount of light came from a single exposed light bulb that dangled from the roof.

He waited for someone to arrive and brag about their grand plans for him. That's how these things worked right? But no one came through the door. Neal was left in the cold and badly lit room for hours, sitting up against the wall waiting for his head and his stomach to settle so he could investigate his small prison. He drifted off in that position and was awoken later by something nudging his foot and then a fist in his stomach.

"Ugh." Neal doubled over, his nose almost touching the floor as he fought to regain his breath.

"Ah, he's awake. Very good."

Neal sat up slowly and took in the imposing figure before him. Richard Tayland was a large man of towering flesh and wiry muscle. Had he decided weapons and guns weren't for him, he wouldn't have been any less threatening.

"Neal Caffrey. Look at you. You're a mess." Tayland gestured to the small cuts inflicted in the previous day's car accident. "Life on the outside just doesn't agree with you it seems. You were much safer in prison. Much safer." He grinned at his little joke. "But now you're here and once again we can get down to business."

"Ah, there it is; the bragging." Neal mumbled to himself. "Right on track."

"Hmm?" Tayland crouched down closer to Neal's height. "Bragging? Oh no. This is a business arrangement. Last time we met I... hm, asked you for a favour and I was offering a very generous sum for this favour."

"It was generous," Neal agreed. "You also wanted your trigger happy thugs watching me. What sort a business arrangement is that? Of course I had to decline." Neal affected the tone he would use when dealing with high class clients. Apart from hiding the small tremor in his words it pissed Tayland off to no end who replied dryly.

"Of course."

"I'm still saying no. I'm not forging a painting for you."

"Oh that's right," Tayland's smile grew sinister. "What was I thinking? You're a reformed conman. You would never help the likes of me, but I sure we can come up with something. You're right handed yes?" He beckoned two of his men forward. One held a struggling Neal white the other untied the bindings around his wrists. His left arm was held out so it was not touching either the wall or the floor.

"No. No!" Neal struggled as a large booted foot came down on his arm. He felt the bones shift and he screamed as they snapped.

The man holding him down released him and backed away.

"We only need that right hand for a painting Neal," Tayland warned. "And you have plenty more bones in your body. We'll let you think about it. Make the right decision."

Richard Tayland and his men left, shutting the door behind them. The room was plunged back into semi-darkness and Neal, no longer quite sitting up against the wall, but not quite lying down, clutched at his broken arm and tried not to throw up.

...

Peter spent the morning researching Neal's past for all the good it did him. Over the years leading up to his capture and arrest Peter had poured over the files and still knew them like he knew Elizabeth's face. He'd spent plenty of time staring at both over the years.

Neal had given him nothing to go by. It frustrated Peter. How much was Neal still keeping from him? They'd been partners for almost a year and there was still so much Peter didn't know or Neal wouldn't tell for fear they'd stumble upon something that would send him back to jail. Peter knew there was more than what the former conman had actually been convicted for, but now Neal was in some sort of trouble and Peter was getting nowhere with the investigation. The man who'd crashed into his car had escaped. Apparently he'd ran to a nearby underground parking lot and stolen a car. It had been found in the early hours of the morning abandoned in one of the quieter streets.

He threw down the file he was looking through and stepped out of his office. "Have you found anything?" He called down to Jones who was reading through files too. Diana was out watching the house and would report back later that afternoon.

"I'm guessing Neal has pissed a lot of people off," Jones commented. "Curators, private owners there's too many to narrow it down to the one person."

"Yeah, well keep looking. Maybe we'll find something." Peter walked back into his office. His phone in his pocket beeped a new message. Look for a Richard Tayland. Perhaps Neal was going to help out after all. Richard Tayland. The name sounded familiar. Peter stuck his head back out the door.

"Get me anything you can find on Richard Tayland." A couple of the officers looked up and nodded. Jones stood up and walked up the stairs to talk to Peter.

"You found something then?" He asked his boss. Peter showed the message from Neal.

"It's a start. And I want to a full report on him. Who he is, who he works for and what he'd want with Neal." Peter's phone rang in his hand. He answered and listened for a moment before hanging up.

"Change of plan," he told Jones. His heart was thudding loudly in his chest. "Let's get Agent Gelderen working on that, you're coming with me back to my place. Neal and Elizabeth are missing."

Diana was going to kill the Agents she had been assigned to work with. She sat on the front porch of the Burke's house allowing a paramedic to clean up the cut on her forehead. Mostly she was pissed at herself for letting a crook jump her and knock her unconscious.

Another car pulled up to the house. Agent Burke and Jones jumped out and rushed over.

"What happened Agent Barrigan?" Peter asked, going all formal on her.

"I'm sorry sir. There was some commotion up the street. Guns were fired. Those two," she pointed at the two other agents, "went to assess the situation."

The two agents in question were apprehending a man. One walked up to the porch. "We believed they were after Mr Caffrey and hit the wrong house. We didn't suspect it was a distraction. He heard the gun shots and figured we were closer than the local law enforcement"

The paramedic finished patching Diana up and left the Agents to talk.

"Still, something didn't feel right." She stood up. "Agent Morgans here cleared a couple of Elizabeth's friends to approach the house. I went to check it out once these two disappeared. Neal was unconscious on the floor and the suspect had a taser." Diana rubbed her arm where it got hit. It still smarted. "I went down and caught my head on the table by the door. They were gone by the time Agents Morgans and Fentz got back to the house."

That bastard had taken his wife, Peter thought, and if Caffrey had given them more information maybe they could have prevented it. Agent Fentz had arrived to join them.

"You two," Peter ordered. "I want statements. I want to know how that man," he pointed at the apprehended suspect, "is connected to all this, and I want you out of my sight."

Trailed by Jones and Diana, Peter walked into his house. Forensics was already inside collecting evidence and he could hear Satchmo howling in the laundry where, presumably, he'd been locked to keep him out of the way.

He could hear Elizabeth's friend in the kitchen talking to another officer. He went in to hear her statement.

"...and then the agent appeared and he shot her too." Stacy was sobbing as she spoke. "Then it was just me and El. He shoved me and he hit El. I didn't do anything, I just sat there." A fresh wave of tears flowed down her face. "I was so scared. Then the van pulled up. It was waiting around the corner. Another man came inside and they grabbed El and her friend, then they were gone."

"What did this van look like?" Peter asked. "Did you see it?"

"Uh...uh, it was blue. I didn't really see the license plate. Um, there was an A and a Q. I'm so sorry Peter."

"You did your best Stacy." Peter sighed. He needed to get back to the headquarters to interview the man who caused the distraction down the street. Maybe he'd shed new light on this case. Forensics were finishing up and Peter wasn't looking forward to a night in an empty house.

He found a can of dog food for Satchmo and fed the dog, then caught a lift with Jones back to the office.

...

"You can't take me off this!" Peter was trying hard to keep his voice low. Hughes had taken him off the case and the interview had not gone well.

"I know Neal better than anyone else here. I have the best chance of finding who did this and you know it."

Hughes shook his head. "You're too deeply involved in this one Peter. Those reports you put together on Caffrey are complete and comprehensive. Our Agents will get to the bottom of this one and I won't have your fears for your wife getting in the way."

"My fears for my- " Peter spluttered, "Elizabeth is out there and I'll be damned if I'm going to just sit around waiting for answers."

"Go home Peter, if we need you we'll call you but right now we're better off without you."

AN: Whoop. Another update. Hope you enjoyed. Our Internet is screwing up at the moment so I was delayed a bit it posting it. Maybe if you all review our Internet will magically fix itself... yes? yes? Ha, well it was worth a shot.