"Sir, we can't just allow an art thief-"

"He's with the FBI and this place is crawling with cops! No one's that good."

"I'm sorry, agent, but the owner of these pieces doesn't feel comfortable-"

Peter turned around and stormed off, sure that if he listened to the dingy security guard say another word he would deck him. He knew that he could call Hughes and get this all straightened out, and he really wanted to do that just to piss off the guard, but they didn't have the time. Missing Persons would be at their office in an hour, and the ride back from the museum wasn't exactly short.

With a sigh of annoyance, Peter walked back over to where Neal was standing, gazing at a painting and seemingly lost in thought. "So?" he asked when Peter stood next to him. "Are we going into the exhibit?"

And damn if Peter wasn't protective. "Well, apparently there's a class going on in there that lets out in half an hour, but we have to get back for Missing Persons."

Neal turned to Peter with a calculating look. "We're the FBI. They can't stop the art class for us?"

"It's not worth the trouble right now. Let's just get back to the office."

Peter expected further questioning at his blatant lie, but instead, Neal nodded and began walking towards the exit. If anything, he looked relieved, which only confused Peter further. After a moment, Peter followed.

Ten minutes into a silent ride back, Neal broke the slightly tense air. "Agent Peter Burke, stopped by a security guard. I didn't know someone with a plastic badge had that authority."

Peter's hands clenched around the wheel, reminded of the man's smug face as he called Neal a degenerate. "I wasn't stopped by a security guard. I just know when it's worth picking a fight."

"It's okay if you were intimidated, Peter, polyester horrifies me too."

"Nice try-"

"Is that what the security guard said when you tried to get in?"

Peter huffed in irritation rather than dignifying that with an answer.

"Maybe it's because you can't fight polyester with polyester. You should have let me and El redo your wardrobe. It's pretty hard to gain respect with ties from the bargain bin-"

"Neal-" Peter growled, at the end of his rope. First with that pompous security guard, and now with his pompous CI, he was officially done. Let alone the child abduction they were on their way to deal with.

"Or maybe it's that temper-"

"Neal, it was because of you! You don't exactly have the best track record around expensive paintings!" he burst out, immediately regretting it at the car's sudden silence.

He winced, risking a glance at his CI, feeling extremely guilty. At the sight of Neal's self satisfied grin, Peter automatically knew he had been played, even before Neal said, all too pleased with himself, "Well, why didn't you say that in the first place?"

Peter rolled his eyes. He hated when he let Neal con him without realizing. He couldn't really be too mad though, since this was the most normal Neal had acted since they got their case that morning. Still, he did feel stupid for playing into his CI's game. "Clever. You should consider a career in emotional manipulation."

"Peter, we both already have careers in emotional manipulation."

"How many times do we have to have this conversation? Interrogations and stings-"

"Cons and heists."

"They're not the same thing."

"Maybe in the eyes of the law they're not, but if I allegedly forge another badge then technically-"

"You steal. We save. Speaking of which, we're getting to the building in five minutes for a murder/kidnapping case, so we should probably get our heads in the game." Silence descended on the car again. Peter glanced over, but Neal wasn't smiling this time. He suddenly felt guilty for ruining the light banter, but to be fair, they were having a very serious meeting shortly.

Peter sighed. "What's so different about this case, Neal?"

"You mean it's weird to not jump for joy when dealing with a murdered family?"

"You know that's not what I mean. You've been acting differently since you read that file this morning."

"Sorry that I have a heart."

Peter shook his head. This line of questioning was clearly not working, and going into the meeting straight out of a fight was not going to work out.

The agent was surprised when Neal broke the silence. "Listen, I'm sorry I've been so touchy today. It's just..." Neal let out a long breath before continuing. "My aunt and uncle died in a car accident, and this whole case has been bringing up bad memories. My mom was a wreck for weeks."

Peter didn't answer for a moment, processing the admission. With the parents in this case being killed in a planned car accident, it made sense. He was also flattered that Neal felt comfortable enough to share something about his past with him, and it took all of his will power not to question Neal's childhood further.

"I'm sorry," Peter said finally. "I'll be more sympathetic but... we need to catch this bastard, y'know?"

"Trust me, I know better than anyone."

oOoOoOo

Joan, the Missing Persons agent, began the meeting. "So, I imagine you two have been briefed?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, we were given the case file this morning. Do you have anything more specific to Danny Brooks?"

The agent sighed. "Unfortunately, not much. From his school records, we know that he was the top of his class, which isn't saying much in seventh grade, but he was taking advanced classes and set to skip a grade the next year. He was extraordinary in art class and doing private lessons with the art teacher. Other than those school records, we've got nothing."

"Any photos?" Neal asked.

Joan shook her head. "None in our database."

Peter furrowed his brow. "None? No school photo even? How is that possible?"

"We're not entirely sure. A year after Danny's disappearance, all photos of him in the database were deleted. Agents were never able to trace the hacker."

Peter glanced to Neal to share a confused glance, but his CI had his head down in the file before him. Peter turned to Joan. "Was anything else done by the hacker other than that?"

"No, that's the strange part. Just removed the photos. Our theory is that it was Jones, trying to avoid anyone from recognizing Brooks."

Peter nodded. "That's a possibility. Anything else we should touch on?"

Joan looked down at her own file, scanning it before answering. "Brooks was a very social child, and a lot of his teachers and classmates liked him. I'm not sure if that relevant to your part of the case, but I feel it should be mentioned. Other than that, I think we're done here."

All three stood up and exchanged handshakes, before Joan excused herself from the conference room. Peter paced the room, while Neal sat back down and grabbed his rubber band ball from the other end of the table.

"Now, how do we go about finding this kid and the art..."

"We can go through Jones and his contacts? Work our way in?" Neal suggested, throwing the rubber band ball above his head. Peter caught it as he walked by, earning an annoyed glare from the con.

"No, someone like Jones is bound to be covered in that front. I think we have to go through the kid."

Neal raised his eyebrows. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"Looks like we're going to have to visit his middle school."

"What are we going to learn at some middle school?"

Peter shrugged. "Joan said he was well liked by his teachers. I'm sure a few might still be on staff. And, it's really the only lead we have."

"C'mon Peter, it's barely a lead."

"Do you have a foolproof way into Jones' inner circle?"

"Well... not yet, but given time-"

"In the meantime, while you figure that out, it looks like we're taking a field trip to a middle school in Missouri."

"Good luck getting Hughes to clear that," Neal scoffed.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "You're not the only one good at persuasion."

"You mean emotional manipulation?"

oOoOoOo

Neal sat in the conference room, waiting for Peter to get back from his meeting with Hughes. The second the agent had left the room, Neal deflated, wringing his hands in an attempt to stop the shaking. He tapped his foot rapidly, glad that his back was to the bullpen. The walls were just glass after all, and the other agents had never seen Neal Caffrey with pure panic on his face. He'd prefer to keep it that way.

Peter flew into the room suddenly, breaking the younger man out of his personal world of anxiety. He was worried he hadn't built up his mask fast enough when the agent had walked in, but Peter wasn't very observant at the moment. He was smiling ear to ear and looked at Neal smugly.

"Pack your bags. We leave tomorrow."

oOoOoOo

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