Thank you all for the kind reviews. And I want to thank MaraudingSnitch1314 for the Ryan thing, I didn't think about the bad guy's name being Ryan. It is not the same guy. Sorry if it confused anyone.

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Peter, Diana, Jones, and Mozzi were standing on the sidewalk just outside the museum.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Peter asked Mozzie. "It could be dangerous."

"I'm sure." Mozzie said, hoping he sounded more confident then he felt.

"You just have to stall for a little time, give us a chance to get everyone else off of the roof. Diana will stay near the door, out of sight, covering you."

"I won't let him do a thing to you." Diana promised.

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Neal and Ryan stood on the roof of the museum, along with a few other people milling around the exhibits. The roof contained the lesser known pieces of art work, and was never crowded.

Neal smiled slightly when he saw Peter and Jones walk onto the roof. Both men went in opposite directions and started looking at the exhibits, but Neal knew that they were watching him and Ryan.

"Where is your friend?" Ryan asked, in annoyance. "It's been over an hour."

"Here he is." Neal said, as he saw Mozzie walking their way. He was carrying a briefcase.

"I believe I have all of the requested items." Mozzie said, sitting the briefcase on the ground beside him. "I trust I will attain the usual percentage for my assistance."

"You will." Neal said, as he saw Peter and Jones discretely walking around talking to the other people on the roof. The people were slowly making their way off of the roof one by one.

"Are you planning a heist here?" Mozzie asked, stalling for time.

Ryan gave an eerie laugh, then quickly wrapped an arm around Neal's neck pulling him in front of his body and pointed his gun to Neal's temple.

"Nice try Agent Burke." He said. "I have done my homework, I know who you are. I also know who Agent Jones is."

"Let them go." Peter nodded to two men, the only patrons who had not made if off the roof yet.

"Go." Ryan said. "I think a couple of FBI agents are more then enough hostages."

The two men quickly fled the roof.

"Drop the gun." Peter ordered, as him and Jones pointed their guns at him.

"Don't think so." Ryan smirked. "Drop yours, or your consultant here gets a bullet."

"Go ahead." Peter said with a shrug. "He signed a waiver, the Bureau can not be held responsible if he gets killed while on the job."

"Thanks a lot, Burke." Neal said in disgust. He had seen movement in the doorway and knew that Diana was waiting there for a clear shot.

"Go ahead and shoot him." Peter said.

"How about if I shoot Jones?" Ryan asked, removing the gun from Neal's temple and aiming it at Jones. As soon as he did that, a shot rang out and Ryan dropped the gun with a yell of pain. He let go of Neal and clutched his injured hand.

"Nice shot." Neal said, as Diana walked onto the roof.

"Not really, I was aiming for you." She replied with a smirk.

"Is June okay?" Neal asked, ignoring Diana's remark.

"She's fine." Peter said. "But you better call her and let her know you're okay."

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That night, Neal lay in bed but couldn't sleep. Thoughts of what could have happened rushed through his mind; he knew things could have gone a whole lot worse. June could have gotten killed. Samantha could have been there when Ryan showed up. Those two thoughts kept popping up the most.

Neal had made a rule when he first started his life of crime, and he had always followed that rule. Until now. He had broken his own rule, and June nearly paid the price. He couldn't let her get hurt because of him, he couldn't risk her live. Neal loved June very much; she was the Mother that he never had. She was the one who made him chicken soup and made sure he took his medicine when he had a cold a couple months before.

She was the one who made sure he ate right, often bringing him dinner after a long day at work. June was always there when he needed a friendly face.

Neal sighed as he got out of bed, no use laying there if he couldn't sleep. He walked out onto the terrace and walked over to the edge, looking at the view.

He had it good, too good. He had grown attached to people, that was not a good thing. Making up his mind, he walked back inside and over to the table. He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, and sat down to write the hardest note he had ever wrote.

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June knocked on Neal's door the next morning, but didn't get an answer. "Neal." She called out, but still no answer. June opened the door and walked in, figuring he was out on the terrace. But he was nowhere to be found.

Figuring he had already left for the day, she started to walk out of the room. Then she say an envelope in the table, it had her name on it. June opened the envelope and pulled out a letter written in Neal's handwriting.

"Dear June." She said out loud. "You have been a great friend and even a great Mother figure. But it is time for me to move on, I need my own place. Do not worry, I am not running, I am just moving. I need my privacy. Thank you for everything, I will never forget you. Please do not be angry, but this is the way it has to be. Please tell Sammy that I will miss her. Your friend, Neal."

June read the note several times, praying that the words would change. But they stayed the same. Neal was leaving.

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Peter was sitting in his office when Neal walked in.

"Elle has invited you to lunch." Peter said. "She wants you to taste some kind of fruity appetizer thing she wants to serve.

"Sorry, can't make it." Neal said, hoping Peter would leave it at that, but knew he wouldn't He had grown too accustomed to hanging out with Elizabeth also. He had to break that habit, he couldn't risk someone going after her because of him.

"Why?" Peter asked. "We don't have a case right now."

"I just can't make it. Is that all you wanted?"

"Yeah." Peter said, wondering what was going on. Usually Neal liked being used as a guinea pig by Elizabeth. "Something wrong?"

"No, I just don't want to spend my lunch break helping your wife further her own career." Neal snapped, and then stormed out of the office.

Peter started to go after him, to find out what was wrong. But his phone rung, he looked at the caller ID and saw that it was June.

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Neal and Mozzie walked into the motel room, the one where Neal was supposed to live when he got out of prison. Neal was using his lunch hour to move the rest of his belongings, having wanted to wait until June was not home before going back. He enlisted Mozzie's help.

"This is insane." Mozzie said, as he sat the box he as carrying on the floor.

"This is the way it has to be." Neal replied, his voice was distant and quite. Moving was heartbreaking for the man, and not because of the hot tub and cable that he had enjoyed at June's. it was heartbreaking because he knew he was hurting June, but he didn't have a choice.

"So you're just going to walk away from June?" Mozzie asked. "And Samantha? What about little Sammy, she…"

"What if she was there?" Neal demanded to know, his voice hard. "She could have been killed, so could June. All because of me. I broke my own Moz, now I have to fix it."

"It was a stupid rule." Mozzie said.

"Just leave." Neal said, his voice once again distant.

"So now you're pushing me away?"

"I've got to get back to work." Neal pushed past him and walked out.

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Peter was sitting at Neal's desk when the younger man got back from his lunch break.

"Something wrong with your desk?" Neal asked, as Peter stood up and Neal sat down.

"June called me, said she had been trying to call you all morning." Peter said, searching the younger man's face for a clue as to what was going on.

"I moved back to motel, it's well within my radius." Neal started doing paperwork, hoping Peter would take the hint and leave. But he didn't.

"Why'd you move?"

"Needed privacy."

"Neal….."

"Drop it, Peter. Please." Neal said in a pleading voice. "I need to do this."

"Why?"

"I just do. Please respect my wishes and drop it."

"I can't."

"Why?" Neal looked up into his eyes.

"Because I care about you, I want to help you."

"I don't need help, I just need to be left alone."

Neal stood up and started walking away.

"Where are you going?" Peter asked.

"To unpack, I'm using a sick day."

Peter watched sadly as Neal got on the elevator. He knew something was wrong, something was really bothering Neal.

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More soon, hope you like it.