Thanks to my beta Pikeru's Angel

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

...

"Where was the robbery at?" Neal asked as he and Peter climbed into the back seat of the taxi cab.

"The Museum of Modern Art." Peter said to Neal as well as the taxi driver. The older, balding man in the front seat nodded and the car pulled forward slowly.

Neal nodded and leaned back against the seat as the sky finally let loose with a gush of rain, a streak of lightning flashing in the distance. "Founded in 1929 by a group of private collectors, it has six collecting departments."

"Been there before?" Peter asked with a knowing smile.

"Yeah." Neal let out a deep breath, as if recalling a painful memory, "I went there a lot when I was kid."

Peter's face scrunched up in confusion, but before he could ask his question his cell phone started ringing from his coat pocket.

Peter brought the phone to his ear, "Jones, what did you get for me?"

Neal's mind drifted as Peter talked to the other agent on the phone. He stared out the window at the passing scenery and remembered his last trip to this museum as a child.

A young blonde haired woman walked through the gallery holding the hand of her four year old son. She bent down to the floor so that she was at his level, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pointed to the painting in front of them. "See how beautiful that painting is, Angel."

"Yeah, Momma." The little boy whispered, he didn't really understand what the painting was, but the colors were pretty and it sure made his momma happy.

The woman's watch started beeping, startling both her and the boy. The little boy frowned as he was ushered towards the exit by his mother, "Come on, we need to get home before your father does."

He started to whine before remembering who else might be there. "Will Bubba be there?"

She stopped walking and stared down at her son with a small smile. "Your brother has to work tonight." She tapped him on the nose, "But he should be home before you go to bed."

The watch beeped again.

The mother picked up her little boy and rushed through the exit. "We need to get home right now, Love."

Neal was jolted out of his memory by Peter tapping him on the shoulder. "You with me, Caffrey?"

"Yeah," Neal nodded, blinking away the images. "What did Jones have to say?"

Peter eyed him critically for a moment as the taxi pulled up to the museum. "Just that the painting that was stolen was painted by Henri Matisse."

"Do we have any clues?" Neal asked as they climbed out of the vehicle.

Peter shook his head. "Nothing yet." He slapped Neal on the back affectionately, "but that's why we have you."

They entered the building and were immediately greeted by a tall, dark haired man. "My name is Jeffery Lethan." He reached out and shook hands with Peter and Neal. "I'm the floor manager and am in charge of the area where the Matisse painting was stolen."

"What painting was actually stolen?" Peter and Neal asked at the same time and then rolled their eyes, also in unison.

"It's called, The Woman Reading."

"I thought that was sitting in a museum in Paris." Neal asked as the three men made their way to where the painting had been hanging.

"It was on special display for the first few weeks of this month." Mr. Lethan replied as he ran a shaky hand through his thinning hair.

Peter and Neal shared a knowing look; they both knew that the job of the man standing before them was hanging in the balance.

"We're going to need to see security footage, as well as a list of names of all employees that had access to this area."

Mr. Lethan nodded. "Follow me."

Two hours later Peter and Neal entered the FBI offices and took a seat in Peter's office. Neal leaned back in the chair and placed his feet on Peter's desk. "It has to be an inside job, Peter."

Peter shoved Neal's feet off his desk before taking a seat in his own chair. "How do you know it's not one of your friends?"

Neal smiled, "I didn't say that it wasn't." He pointed a finger in Peter's direction, "But whoever it was definitely had help from the inside."

Peter leaned back and put his feet up on his desk and smiled at Neal's scowl. "And why do you think that?"

Neal shrugged. "It doesn't feel right."

Peter gave him a doubtful look.

Neal raised a hand. "I used to do this for a living, Peter." He watched as Peter rolled his eyes but waved for him to continue. "It just doesn't feel professional."

"You think it was the manager, Mr. Lethan?"

Neal shook his head, "Not necessarily. But I think we definitely need to speak to anyone else who was working that night."

"I agree." The chair squeaked as Peter shifted his feet to the floor. "But, this can wait until after we eat lunch."

Neal shot up from his chair at the mention of food. "Sounds like a plan, Peter."

Peter smiled and walked around his desk, "You're buying."

Neal's smile faded. "Alright, but we eat where I want too."

()()()()()White()()()()Collar()()()()

"Elizabeth, you needed to see me?"

Elizabeth looked up at her long time friend, Nancy, who was standing in the doorway to her office.

"Yes." Elizabeth smiled as she pushed her work away. "I need a tiny favor." She grinned and held her fingers about an inch apart.

Nancy entered her friend's office, closing the door behind her as she sat down in the vacant seat across from Elizabeth's desk.

"Ok. I'll do what I can."

Elizabeth smiled. "I know." She opened her desk drawer, pulling out a picture before sliding it across her desk.

Nancy leaned forward and picked up the picture. It was old, looking slightly yellow with age, with burn marks around the edges. She flipped the picture over and read the names on the back. "Peter age 16 and Paul age 4."

"Is this your Peter?"

Elizabeth nodded. "It is."

Nancy stared at Elizabeth, a look of concern and confusion flickering on her face. "What are you asking me to do, honey?"

Elizabeth looked down at her desk as she played with a strand of hair that dangled down in front of her face. She took a deep breath, "I need you to try and find Peter's brother."

Nancy sat back in her seat. "Does Peter know you're doing this?"

"No, he has no idea."

Nancy chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, as if in thought. "What can you tell me about him?"

Elizabeth blew out a relieved breath. "I don't know much, I usually can't get Peter to talk about him for very long." She cleared her throat. "He has a different father then Peter, so he probably has a different last name, but I could never get Peter to open up about it." She finished with a note of sadness.

"I'm sure Peter has looked high and low for his brother. Why do you think I'll have any better luck finding him?"

Elizabeth nervously tapped her nails on the desk. "I don't know that you can. But, you do have different contacts and a higher level of clearance at the Bureau." Elizabeth shrugged, "I know it's a long shot, but I need to try for Peter's sake."

Nancy stood up from her seat, placing the picture carefully into her purse. "I'm assuming you'll need this picture back ASAP?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Definitely."

Nancy smiled. "I'll have my assistant drop it off to you this afternoon." She laid her hand gently on her stomach, grimacing slightly. "How about we grab some lunch and do some catching up?"

Elizabeth grinned and grabbed her purse. "That would be lovely."