ANOTHER FORM OF ART

Summary: When they come to Europe, Neal and Mozzie decide to pull a heist that the world hasn't seen yet. Pre-series, "wacky hijinks and zany schemes".

A/N: This fic was betaed by rabidchild67, and I also need to thank my friend November Leaving for being a great cheerleader.

Part I

"You want WHAT?!"

It was a beautiful morning. The sun shone lightly on their balcony, the air was fresh thanks to the rain of the past night. Breakfast was delicious. Simply, everything was perfect.

"Was" as in past tense, thought Moz murderously in the face of Neal's smile and shocking statement.

"This is a joke, right?" asked Mozzie hopefully.

"Actually..."

"My ears played a trick on me."

"I think it's quite funny."

"Hey, I got it! It's the April Fool's Day thing. Except in April, we didn't have time to celebrate, because the Feds spoiled our party, so now you're making up for it – "

"This isn't a joke, Moz!"

For maybe half a minute, Mozzie stared at Neal with disbelief. Then he laughed: "Neal, your 'totally honest' expression is improving. You really got me this time."

"Could you stop it, Moz?" exclaimed Neal, his voice now full of irritation. "It's really getting on my nerves."

Mozzie tore off his toupee and scratched his bald head. "It's real, then?" he asked pitifully.

Neal gave him an innocent smile and sipped his orange juice. "It's doable, right?"

Mozzie stood up and went to his liquor cupboard for a bottle of whiskey.

Behind him, Neal rolled his eyes. "Come on, Moz. What would life be without a little surprise and excitement?"

"Let me guess... safer?" asked Mozzie sarcastically.

"It's so boring here!" exclaimed Neal. "Tell me, honestly, that you aren't at least a bit bored!"

Mozzie pretended to ignore him.

"My whiskey is gone," he said mournfully and shot Neal a glare.

"Well..." Neal hesitated, "I guess me and Rodgers sort of borrowed it..."

Mozzie made a mental note that when Neal owned his own alcohol collection, he would have to invite himself to a bottle or two... to even the score, of course.

He quietly said a last goodbye to his whiskey and returned to Neal empty handed.

"Fine. Let's be rational." He took a deep breath. "Even if this doesn't lead Moser and his goons on our trail... if we somehow manage to steal it... if we don't get caught and if this doesn't attract the attention of all the local and international police agencies... What are we going to do with the, ah, score?"

Neal shrugged. "No idea," he admitted carelessly.

Mozzie silently counted to ten.

"But think of it," continued Neal brightly. "It's probably never been done before. It's like becoming a part of history!"

"When we get caught like two idiots," protested Moz sharply. "Neal, I hate to be the spoilsport on this, but we need to face the facts. It's been barely a month since we conned Moser out of his fifty grand. The pieces of the last man who robbed him were found swimming in the river – sans skin. If he gets wind of us, he'll have us gutted, alive."

"Moser would never think we could be behind this," said Neal confidently.

"You thought he'd never notice we pulled one over on him," Mozzie pointed out.

"And you agreed with me," shrugged Neal. "We both thought it would be an easy touch. Robbing an obnoxious jerk who thought he was robbing me and the government; who couldn't go to police without implicating himself and risking that his other frauds would come up… You have to admit it seemed perfect."

"Yes, right until we found out he was a mobster with a gutting-people habit," said Moz dryly.

"Hmm. I agree that sort of spoiled the fun."

Mozzie gave a deep sigh.

They were staying in a hotel a long way from New York and the whole US for that matter. A few months back, things had gotten complicated there, so the two conmen answered Europe's call and opted to create havoc on the other side of the pond, passing through cities and countries as they came to their minds.

Neal was completely in his element. Mozzie… well, he had to admit it was fun, working with someone as smart and skilled as Neal.

Sometimes, however, Neal was a tad too reckless.

It wasn't that Mozzie liked playing things safe; he never would have gotten so far with that philosophy. But he had learned to recognize when certain risks were unnecessary.

He spoke with patience. "Look. I know this is not exactly the way we planned this, but it's just for a few more weeks until Moser hopefully calms down and my guy fixes the misunderstanding. We can go to Paris afterwards. Or, I've heard that Rome is nice this time of year – though I warn you that my Italian is even worse than my German."

"Paris would be nice," said Neal thoughtfully. "But… I think we should head back to New York."

And here it was.

"I haven't hard anything about Kate yet," said Mozzie quietly.

At the mere mention of her name, a shadow passed over Neal's face. That meant, realized Moz belatedly, that she hadn't been on his mind before.

Since Copenhagen and Neal's return to New York, Mozzie had been doing his best to help Neal move on. It was a good sign, a sign of healing, that Kate and New York no longer automatically came as an equation to Neal. With every con, Neal was becoming more and more himself, as opposed to the broken figure that Moz found at his doorstep a few months ago.

And now he had reminded Neal of Kate again.

"She was right, you know," said Neal with a sad, slightly crooked smile. "You really look better without that toupee."

Mozzie chuckled, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears. Neal turned away and took in a sharp breath.

Seeing the pain in Neal's face, Moz cursed himself again for bringing up Kate's name. He should have been more careful. This was exactly what he had been hoping to avoid.

For a second, he fleetingly wondered when Neal's well-being had become so important to him. He forcefully pushed that thought away.

"So you have no leads on her?" asked Neal after a moment.

"Not yet," replied Mozzie. "But I'm sure something will come up," he added cheerfully.

"That's good," smiled Neal.

If he didn't sound like they just drowned his puppy, Moz might even believe him.

"So," asked Mozzie eventually to break the silence, "when you wanted to go back to New York, did you have anything in mind in particular?"

"Well, New York is full of opportunities," replied Neal.

"That's right," agreed Moz, ready to avert their talk from the dangerous topic. "There are numerous options – the Met, the Queens… Or we could pick something less conspicuous."

"Exactly," said Neal, his charming façade back in place. Then he beamed. "But what I was actually thinking… I think I should check on Agent Burke. I need to know if he's getting closer. I could break into his office – "

"WHAT?!" yelled Mozzie and almost fell off his chair. "Neal, you can't be serious! That's even crazier than your newest... scheme... "

Mozzie's voice trailed off.

"Okay, that was just an idea," said Neal. "But we could –"

Mozzie cut him off: "Wait."

Neal looked at him.

"You're trying to persuade me to settle for the less harmful option," stated Mozzie slowly in realization. "You really want to go through with this – craziness." He picked up his glass of water and thoughtfully ran his fingers over it. "But why?"

Neal lifted his eyebrows. "I don't know what you're talking about – "

"Neal."

"Moz."

Mozzie glared at his friend.

Neal stared at him with his wide blue honest eyes.

"Oh my God," exclaimed Mozzie suddenly. "Someone is forcing you. Neal, you can tell me – no, you can't," he corrected himself, "or they might – of course – but we could – I knew this was a conspiracy," he exclaimed in triumph. "The question is," he said thoughtfully, "why would anyone want you to steal... a tram?"

o o o

The greatest thing about Mozzie's paranoia was that it made him perceptive to risks that Neal might occasionally miss. The worst thing was that it made him question Neal's love life, attend dubious meetings with his fellow conspiracy theorists - and ask too many questions.

"I told you. Rodgers and I were talking about various scams and stuff. He said it couldn't be done, I believed the opposite. I want to try it."

Mozzie immediately shook his head. "That's not all. There's more to this story; something you're not telling me. But don't worry my friend, I'll find out! If there's anybody trying to do us harm, they will be very sorry."

Neal shook his head in dismay. "Moz…"

"Still, a tram? I don't understand why – "

"It was a bet!" blurted Neal finally.

"What?"

"Rodgers and I made a bet," said Neal more quietly. "I steal the tram, he steals… something else. Whoever succeeds is named a professional thief and gets to steal the 'Girl and Boy'."

"You betted on who could go after the painting?"

"Exactly," confirmed Neal.

"Oh."

Neal already regretted his honesty when he saw the wheels in Mozzie's head turning.

"So you made a bet," murmured Mozzie. He shook his head. "Neal, bets are serious business… You'll have to talk to Rodgers and hope he's willing to call this whole thing off – "

"I can't," admitted Neal with a sigh.

"Why not?"

"We made a contract," explained Neal and pulled out his own copy. He briefly showed it to Moz, who took it with a look of suspicion. He ignored Mozzie's lifted eyebrows at his sloppy writing and quickly plucked the paper back from his hands. "We both have to make an honest attempt."

"Define 'honest'," Mozzie chuckled. Then his eyes narrowed. "Wait a second – you signed this thing?"

"As an alias," assured him Neal hastily.

Mozzie clutched his head in horror. "You signed it? With your current alias? The one we used to pay for this hotel room and everything else?"

"Look, we have five days to pull the whole thing off," said Neal and did his best to ignore Mozzie's disbelief. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Five days?!"

"Yep," replied Neal cheerfully.

Mozzie shook his head. "That's it, then. It can't be done. Tell Rodgers that you're forfeiting. Then we should probably leave before things get too hot here."

"I can't," replied Neal immediately.

Mozzie gave him a look. "Neal, I understand that you like that painting, but – "

"That's not the reason," interrupted him Neal. "I literally can't forfeit the bet."

"Why not?" asked Mozzie after a pause.

"That's not important," said Neal quickly. "You said it yourself, we have just five days. We should get to planning; find out where they keep the trams in this city, figure out how this can be done – "

Mozzie looked at him.

Neal gave him a charming smile.

"Okay," said Moz at last. "You obviously don't want to tell me the details. Just… tell me what I need to know."

"You're not worried we should be lying low because of Moser anymore?" asked Neal curiously.

"Forget Moser," retorted Mozzie. "What's going on?"

o o o

Mozzie closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he opened them.

He ran his head over what Neal had just told him.

They were going to steal a tram.

("A black tram," Neal had corrected him.)

For the tram to count as "stolen", they needed to transport it out of the city.

They had five days to do it.

And Neal couldn't back out of the bet because of a clause in the agreement that said that…

"…that whoever backs out of the bet has to stand as a model for one of Sofiyanski's statues," explained Neal grimly.

"I've heard of him," said Mozzie unhappily. "Supposedly, he's a genius sculptor."

A pause.

"It could be that the rumors about his tastes are… exaggerated," said Neal without much hope.

"It's said that everyone who ever stood as a model for him refused to do it again," said Mozzie after a moment of silence. "Supposedly, one of his models called him a raving lunatic. She said she'd rather work in a smallpox colony – "

"It was a malaria colony," jumped in Neal.

Mozzie lifted his eyebrows.

"We… laughed about it with Rodgers," murmured Neal.

There was a mob guy after them. Neal's bet meant to pull a heist that would attract all the attention they didn't need; without any real payoff.

In another reality, this was the moment when Mozzie walked away.

"All right," he said. "You have to honor the bet; otherwise this could give you a bad name. Unless Rodgers is willing to call it off… ?"

"Well, I could ask him," said Neal without enthusiasm.

Mozzie considered that.

Without doubt, Moz could say that Neal was the best partner he had worked with yet. Suddenly, backing out of the bet seemed like putting limits on their abilities.

"No," he said resolutely. "You will do nothing of the sort."

"Does that mean you're in?" asked Neal.

"What do you think?"

They shared a smile.

"We're gonna win this bet," said Mozzie confidently.

"And then we'll go after the painting," continued Neal fluently.

"Exactly," said Moz. "But now, let's figure out how to steal your goddamn tram."

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