Peter would never have admitted it out loud, but he was eager to see what Neal had created. But when he arrived at June's, Neal had already packed the paintings in crates for transport. Six hours before the meeting, they arrived at the gallery. Peter had no idea why Taryn thought that she would need that much time to hang some paintings, but who was he to argue with her, considering the favor she was doing him by keeping Neal busy. But that left him in a bit of a pickle. He didn't really feel comfortable with leaving Neal at the gallery, but Diana, Jones and he were supposed to appear in court today as witnesses for an older case. He had considered ordering another agent to keep an eye on Neal, but he didn't trust anyone else, either to be able to keep up with his shenanigans, or to react with the proper discretion should anything go wrong.

It was mostly Neal himself who inadvertently convinced him that he wouldn't pull anything this time around. He had obviously pushed himself very hard to get the paintings ready in time. While his appearance was as immaculate as always, Peter had learned to look behind the mask a long time ago. Neal's movements were less energetic than usual; he wasn't on top of his game at all. And his only interest seemed to be his paintings, which he treated like a secret treasure.

Halfway assured, he left Neal with Taryn and went to court. It turned out one of those cases – where the lawyers were pulling all kind of delaying tactics and second guessing everything the witnesses said. Peter had thought that he would easily be back in time, but when he arrived at the gallery, it was pretty obvious that the meeting was already over. A very disgruntled-looking artist was taking his work off the wall. A young woman was seeking comfort from someone who seemed to be her boyfriend. Peter couldn't spot Neal, but his eyes caught a painting which had to be his work.

It wasn't exactly a portrait of Alex. But the smile and the stance of the figure on the canvas left no doubt who had been the inspiration. The woman held a golden box, which looked suspiciously like the music box, in the direction of the observer. The lid was slightly open and dark clouds oozed through the gap. A dark cloud made of question mark-like shapes was engulfing the woman, giving the impression of something dangerous lurking behind it, but nevertheless, there was nothing sinister about her. Her face had a soft caring warmth, drawing you in until you noticed the sadness in her eyes. Peter came closer to read the card, when the sudden sound of music coming from somewhere behind the painting distracted him. It was the sound of the music box - not the normal version, but the distorted tune of the code. He had never realized before how haunting it was. Slightly creeped out he read the title of the painting: Pandora. Then he hastily took a step back and the music thankfully stopped.

"I'm in!"

Peter turned around when he heard the excited voice behind him, coming face to face with a beaming Neal.

"Taryn just told me." Neal would never admit it to Peter, but it had been an unexpected result. Gwyneth Molesworth didn't seem to be impressed at all when she inspected the paintings. But nevertheless he had been chosen. "But now I'll have to create more paintings. She wants at least ten."

Peter shared a conspiratorial look with Taryn, who gave him a thumbs-up behind Neal's back. Yes, ten paintings would be enough to keep Neal busy. But he was slightly puzzled about Neal's reaction. He had always shown more pride in his forgeries than in his original work, had been initially very reluctant to submit anything at all, and now, suddenly, he acted all excited about it. Telling him that his work hadn't been chosen after all might be more difficult than he expected. But it was for the best. With the commutation hearing coming up, Neal was being scrutinized harder than ever. Though Peter wasn't sure yet what he should say during the hearing, he wouldn't allow Neal to get the wrong kind of attention during such a sensitive time.

The downside of sidelining Neal from the actual investigation was not being able to keep an eye on him all the time. Peter got in the habit of keeping the tracking website on screen during the workday to make sure that he mostly stayed at June's. But it was far less reassuring than actually watching Neal at his desk, being able to see any unusual behavior. For all Peter knew, Neal might be with Mozzie, plotting. Although they both had decided to stay in New York, Peter was sure that Mozzie would encourage anything which involved pulling on Neal's leash.

Something didn't feel right about this case, but Peter couldn't figure out why. He really needed someone to bounce some ideas off of. But Neal wasn't there. And he had taken to avoiding Diana, knowing that she was plotting some sort of revenge for making her a model – again. Jones mind was wrapped up in tech geek land. But there was always his favorite confidante.

In a rare display of punctuality, Peter entered his home exactly at dinnertime instead of ten minutes after, only to discover that Satchmo was the only one who greeted him. Elizabeth wasn't there yet. That was unusual. Being an event planner, she often had odd hours, but since parties on workdays were rare, she nearly always was at home before him on Wednesdays. Usually Peter would have shrugged it off, but in light of recent events, he had to battle an uneasy feeling. Forcing himself to stay calm, he checked his voicemail and looked in the kitchen and beside the phone in case she had left a message for him. Then he dialed her cell. He heard her usual ringtone outside. Comprehending quickly, he opened the door for her.

"Honey!" El said, surprised. "You're early."

"I'm exactly on time," Peter corrected her.

"Which means you're early," El pointed out jokingly and gave him a kiss on the cheek to soften the blow.

Peter sighed. He felt a little bit silly now. Why should El bother to call ahead that she would be slightly late if she couldn't even expect that he would be on time to notice? Apparently, he really was a foregone conclusion concerning those matters. Calling his own thoughts in check, he closed the door a little bit more forcefully than necessary. Better not to go there.

Elizabeth didn't notice her husband's mood. "I'm starving. Good thing there's still leftover stew in the fridge."

Whenever possible, Peter did his share of kitchen duty. So while El warmed up the stew, he set out the plates.

"Trouble at work?" he asked.

"Not at all. In fact, it was such a slow day I could take the afternoon off with no trouble at all. Neal was ecstatic." El put the stew on the table and immediately took a portion for herself, before Peter even had the chance to sit down properly.

"Neal?" While Neal seemingly effortlessly had managed to charm El the first time they met in person, they had never had the kind of relationship where they would meet each other just for fun, just like Peter would never spend time with Mozzie unless it was for a case or for Neal's benefit. And after everything which had happened, he wasn't even sure if he wanted her around either of them. They would never hurt her intentionally, but they definitely attracted the wrong kind of attention. And Neal suddenly wanting to meet with El alone? Certainly he was up to something.

"Yes, he asked me to sit for him. I'm quite flattered." She dug into her stew with visible gusto.

"He didn't offer you anything to eat?" That was unusual. Neal was normally a very gracious host, especially towards ladies. And he had a lot to make up for El. Peter had expected him to bend over backwards for her just to make sure that she wouldn't stop influencing Peter on his behalf. In fact, he thought that this was the main purpose of the meeting: making sure that El wouldn't hold her kidnapping against him.

Elizabeth laughed. "Neal is so wrapped up in work, mundane things like eating don't even cross his mind unless you put the meal right in front of him. June told me that it's quite a bother to get him eat properly."

"Is he? He wasn't exactly thrilled when I gave him the assignment."

"The poor dear was so anxious about it. But now he is brimming with excitement. I don't think that I have ever seen him that happy. Certainly not since Kate died."

Peter felt as if he had been slapped. If Elizabeth's assessment was correct (and he didn't doubt it – he had a very perceptive wife, after all), then he had done something horrible. How was he supposed to trash Neal's hope?

"What's the matter? You look upset," Elizabeth observed.

Very perceptive indeed. Now that she had gotten an inkling, there was no way to hide anything from her.

"It's all a ruse," he confessed. "Neal wasn't chosen. I just wanted him busy and away from the investigation."

Her eyes narrowed in anger. She knew that the trust between Peter and Neal was frayed, but this was beyond cruel. She couldn't imagine how Neal would react to such a disappointment.

"How could you do that? Why would you do that? Has Neal done anything?" For once, she really hoped he had.

"Sally is on the suspect list."

"…"

"Honey, it's for his own good."

"…"

"I didn't think..."

"You certainly didn't. This whole thing is for Neal like a long-buried dream come true."

"He doesn't like to display his art."

"He does when he thinks that he's getting the chance of a lifetime. This is beyond cruel."

"…"

"You know what you have to do."

"…"

"First thing tomorrow you will go to Neal and tell him the truth."

"Shouldn't I wait…?"

"He is running himself ragged for nothing." It wasn't Elizabeth's style to scream, but this was as close to screaming as it got with her. "Are you trying to destroy him? Is that your revenge on him?"

Peter didn't have an answer to that.

Going by Elizabeth's description, Peter had expected Neal to be hyper, but that was not the case at all. Although he acknowledged Peter's presence without even interrupting his work, Neal looked almost serene in his calmness, working on his canvas with fluent brush strokes. The only thing unusual was his overall appearance. His hair slightly disheveled, he was clad in nothing but a comfortable-looking pair of gray slacks. Peter had to fight down a burst of jealousy as he pictured Neal in this attire while Elizabeth was posing for him. The whole afternoon long. Being all proud about it. And looking at Neal's half naked, muscular body.

"Don't you have a shirt?" Peter snapped.

Neal ignored the unexpected harsh tone. He was used to Peter's moods. "I didn't expect visitors this early." He allowed a hint of anger to creep into the tone of his voice. In the early days of their partnership, it had been different. While Peter had tended to pull his data every day, he had felt less entitled to violate Neal's privacy in other regards. Back then, he actually knocked and even called ahead sometimes. Neal wasn't sure if Peter's callous intrusion into his apartment was a sign of their growing friendship, a result of Peter's mistrust or simply revenge for all the times he had turned up at the Burke's breakfast table. After everything that had happened, Neal didn't feel that he had the right to protest too much. He tried to give Peter a hint from time to time, when he went too far, but since his minder could be very oblivious for an FBI agent, Neal had learned to roll with the punches. "Give me a moment; I just want to finish this one."

"Is this the painting of Elizabeth?"

"Yes…but you can't see it yet. It isn't ready."

Peter scrutinized the paintings which were lined up against the wall, carefully avoiding Pandora; he didn't want to hear the haunting melody again. With fascination, he surveyed yet another portrait, this time of a woman who looked intently out of a metal frame. Or rather, it was like Peter was watching her through the screen of a computer, while she looked at a string of binary numbers, slightly reflected on her face and the background (which reminded Peter of tinfoil). The effect was so confusing that Peter needed a moment to really take in the features of the face itself.

"This reminds me of Sally?" Peter intentionally voiced his observation as a question.

"I call it Cassandra," was Neal's evasive answer.

"She sat for you?" The very idea made Peter antsy. Neal was good at keeping secrets, but if he told her what kind of exhibition the painting was for, it wouldn't be a difficult leap for her to guess the FBI's interest in the blackmail if she was involved.

Neal interrupted his work in favor of taking a close look at Peter's reactions. "No, I'm very capable of working from memory, if necessary. It's just easier with a live model. Peter, what's that all about? You act as if you suspect me of planning something behind your back."

Peter shifted, uncomfortable. "That's not really it." And that was the truth. He didn't suspect Neal more than usual. Perhaps even less so since Neal currently had a vast interest in staying on Peter's good side. He was just nervous because he knew how difficult it was for him to withstand temptations and how easily his loyalty to his friends could lead him astray.

"So what is it?" There wasn't even anger in Neal's voice, just resignation.

Peter forced a smile on his face. "It's just difficult to trust you after all that happened. But I'm not here to control you. I just want to talk to you about the case."

"Yeah, it doesn't really make sense, does it?" Neal went back to his painting. "Why would the blackmailer call now if the planned drop-off is in a month? Why give the victim so much time?"

"Possibly the blackmailer knows that Garrison would need time to organize the money. It's, after all, not a small sum. But why reveal the drop-off point that early?" mused Peter.

"And why the party? Yes, it's the perfect drop-off if you want to avoid the police, but it's also difficult to get in to. Unless the blackmailer is invited, too."

"Or otherwise connected to it. We checked the guest list, but since we can't involve Mrs. Molesworth, it's harder to gather who else might be present. Staff, perhaps personal friends."

"And the plus ones," Neal finished the thought for him. "Which reminds me, June is invited, too."

Before Peter could gauge the consequences of that tidbit of information, Neal stepped satisfied away from his canvas.

"It's finished. Want a look?" Though the tone in his voice was casual, Peter wasn't fooled. As adamant as Neal had been that Peter wasn't allowed to peek earlier, he was as anxious now about his judgment. Preparing himself to say something positive, no matter what (no reason to kick Neal before stabbing him with the news that all his hard work was for nil), he took in the newest Caffrey original.

It was breathtaking! Elizabeth was sitting in a tangle of threads, somehow able to hold them in order, and knitting what looked like a large comfortable blanket. It was a picture of homeyness, but the way she held her right knitting needle in a firm grip, the pointy end pointing at the viewer, clearly said, "Don't mess with me."

"How much?" Peter blurted out.

"If it isn't sold at the auction, I'll give it to you," Neal promised.

That was it, the perfect opportunity to tell Neal that there wouldn't be an auction, at least not for his work. But what came across Peter's lips was: "It looks great. Does it have a title?" Mentally he chided himself. Was he that much of a coward?

"Penelope." Neal had decided early on to stay on theme. It was a good inspiration and some buyers liked it if a painting was part of a series. "I just wish I could put a more-fitting frame on this one. A wooden one would look much better than those metallic ones."

Peter had to agree. He hadn't it noticed it before, but all the paintings for the exhibition now had the same metallic frame. It fit "Cassandra" quite nicely, but not some of the other works.

"'Pandora' looked better with the original frame, too. Why did you change it?"

"Not my idea," Neal explained, disgruntled. "Ms. Molesworth insists on those frames. Something about having a common denominator."

Peter was speechless. Then his mind caught up with what he just heard. "Ms. Molesworth?"

"Yes, she sent those frames to me. No idea how she got the reputation for her taste in art if she puts so much stock in such trivialities. That's more what I expect from people like Daniel Picah." In the past, Neal had delighted in stealing from those people. Who was he trying to fool? it still itched in him to rescue every single one of the pieces they owned. They didn't deserve art they didn't properly appreciate in the first place.

The thoughts in Peter's head were spinning. Neal talked as if he had spoken to Ms. Molesworth personally. Naturally it could be that Taryn "relayed" the message to him, but why should she do this? Her part of the deal didn't involve sending out expensive metal frames. There was only one conclusion: Peter had totally misunderstood her "thumbs up". Neal actually had been chosen.

A/N: This chapter is for canadianscanget, who gave me a lot of useful feedback concerning the description of the paintings. I don't have the talent she has to create a scene in a couple of words, but I hope, you got an idea how I imagine them. Naturally, mam711 took the task of beta-reading again. (I'm really blessed, aren't I?). I have an idea for most of the White Collar characters, but I don't think that I'll mention all the paintings I've in mind, just those which fit into the story. But those who have read my story "ConCurrent" are surely have a very good idea who Kate would be in this picture collection. Oh, and I forget to mention last chapter: "Swan" was the name of the artist, who did the "White bored" exhibition in "Prisoner's Dilemma". I'm not just dropping hints to other TV-Shows, there will be more than one reference to earlier episodes. Daniel Picah is the guy who had the big collection of stuff in "Home Invasion".

I can say that I was blown away by the finale. It actually confirmed some things I intended to mention in the story, so I'm double happy with it. At least until the next season starts, this story will be totally in canon. *celebrates*