Thanks to everyone who reviewed and/or put this on story alert, especially since the last chapter was so short! I hope you enjoy this one!

Duffy1 - Good idea! I'll have to remember to ask! Thanks :)

reader300 - it's no fair that you know secrets ahead of time! :P

Disclaimer: I did not become a millionaire overnight and buy White Collar *sigh*

"I understand that you don't want to risk this but I really do think the suit needs to be called."

"Mozz, you don't get it! Peter can't know. You saw the note. I'm not going to call him until I know more. We can do this. Come on, it's just like old times, right?"

"Neal, you know me. You know how much I hate the federal government and all of their conspiracies. But they do have a knack for solving these kinds of problems. And the Suit – as much as it pains me to say – the Suit really is good at what he does."

Neal stood up quickly and strode across the room, trying to school his features into something other than a glare. Calm, calm, I am calm. Get control, get control, he took a steadying breath and closed his eyes, but the image from the package flashed before them as he did so. He was shaking with his effort to stay calm, and finally he broke, swinging out an arm and smashing a very expensive wine bottle to the floor.

"I can't do this, Mozz. I can't lose…" Neal broke off and groaned, burying his face in his hands and then running them through his hair.

Mozzie frowned. He avoided friendships and attachments like the plague, because he knew how these things went down, especially in his line of work. His unique ability to not care and to fade away into the background let him live for as long as he had, but once Neal had wormed his way into Mozzie's heart, he found himself traveling down a slippery slope called loyalty that ended in a valley called death.

"Look, I'll make some calls. See if anyone's heard anything. But you know my position and it isn't going to change anytime soon. Even if you get more information, this won't go down the right way without a lot of firepower – and I know of only one person who can get that for you, and it isn't me."

He turned to leave and hesitated by the door. "I…I care. I know I'm not the most…sensitive guy around, and you probably know that very well by now, but I do care."

Neal's voice was soft and teetering on the edge of tear-filled. "I know, Mozz. I really appreciate it."

"Don't thank me until this is over with."

His consultant was acting strangely. And not in a trying-to-impress-everyone, typical-Neal-Caffrey way. If Peter didn't know any better, he'd say that Neal's behavior was exactly the same as five years ago, when he was still a free conman and Peter was chasing after him. But Peter did know better, and he knew that, for all he claimed people didn't change, Neal had. And this wasn't like him.

He fully intended to call Neal on it – but after finding 20 excuses to delay it, he realized that it wasn't just Neal's behavior that was bothering him. It was the fact that his good influence might not have been enough. And part of him really didn't want to know what was going on with his CI, as long as their partnership could remain intact.

Just as Peter had steeled himself to call Neal into his office and have a heart-to-heart, Diana smacked a file down on his desk.

"Insurance fraud. So and so said such and such and something about no one being that unlucky that many times." Peter raised his eyes at the vagueness and she shrugged. "Ryan mumbles into the phone. It's all in the file. Besides," she turned to leave, rolling her eyes ever so slightly, "you could solve it in your sleep."

Peter groaned and flipped open the file. Catching white collar criminals could be thrilling, sure, when he was on the trail of someone like Neal. But the day to day cases? He might as well watch plants grow, they were that interesting. And no matter how hardhearted most people accused him of being, solving the small-time cons often left him feeling empty inside. The perpetrator was usually just a poor guy desperate for money, either to pay off old debts or to help raise a family. It wasn't that Peter condoned the crime – but he pitied the criminal just enough to be bothered about it.

"New case?" Neal's overly chipper voice broke his concentration, and Peter looked up, ready to reply with their usual banter – until he saw his Neal's face. He was smiling, a typical reaction to a case, but Peter had seen that smile too many times not to recognize it. It was Neal's conman smile. In his eyes, Peter could see that he was distracted. Every few seconds his eyes would dart around, taking in doorways, windows, exits and the number of people in the room.

"Uh, I don't think so," Peter closed the file that he had not been reading and put it aside. "Simple case of insurance fraud. We'll leave it to one of the probies – they need the simple cases." Neal shrugged and turned to go, but Peter stopped him. "But, uh, I did want to ask you something."

"Oh?" Neal turned slowly, schooling his face into pleasantly interested. He doesn't know. He can't know. I'm the best conman there is, he can't see through me. He doesn't know. Play it cool.

Peter hesitated, trying to find the words that wouldn't make Neal run for the hills. "Are you…feeling okay?"

"You mean physically? Emotionally? Spiritually?"

"I mean you're acting strange. You won't look anyone in the eye and you've been almost jumping out of your seat every time someone's phone rings."

"Really Peter? No wonder so many criminals are still wandering the streets. If you spent half as much time catching them as you do staring at me, the world would be a better place."

"Neal, I'm serious," Peter growled, standing up and stepping around his desk. "Tell me what's wrong. Yesterday, you were fine. Today you're acting like you're running from the cops again. Why?"

"I…" Neal swallowed, his eyes scanning around the small office constantly, noticing books, files, pens, papers, coffee and more. He had to weigh his options and he had to weigh them fast. This was life or death and it wasn't his life he was gambling with.

"I can't tell you," he said finally, hoping that Peter would get the hint.

Peter opened his mouth to demand a response before freezing. "Can't?"

"I wish I could, but if I tell you…I'd be risking something very, very important to me." Neal's bright eyes were locked onto Peter's, and he wished he could tell him everything through sheer force of will.

"This isn't about Kate or the music box, is it?" Peter asked, a warning in his tone.

"No," Neal assured him quickly. "Not this time. Look, I….I may need your help but I need to do a little digging on my own first. Please, Peter. Trust me."

Peter knew that he could demand answers. He knew that if he pushed, Neal would most likely tell him the truth. And he also knew that if whatever was going on went badly, he would never forgive himself for using Neal's loyalty to his own advantage. So he nodded instead, keeping his eyes on Neal's.

"As far as your two mile radius," he added, to lighten the mood. And Neal laughed – of course he laughed. But Peter couldn't help but notice that his eyes were still scanning the room.

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