"Caffrey, wake up. You're going to be late for work and I don't think the Fed is going to like it much."

Neal groaned and forced his eyes open. "Hmm? Syrie, we don't need the duct tape until tonight!"

One side of Syremmine's mouth twisted upwards into a wry half smile. "C'mon, Caffrey. We aren't hiding out in Paris anymore. You have to go see Peter."

Neal pushed himself up on his elbows, his eyes focusing. "I overslept, didn't I?"

"According to June you've got ten minutes to get out the door. She's making some coffee for you to bring to Peter."

Neal dragged himself out of bed and stood there blankly for a second.

Syrie smirked and turned him towards the bathroom with a gentle shove. "Shower, Caffrey, and make it quick."

"You know, with anyone else this would be awkward," he said, throwing the words over his shoulder and motioning somewhat vaguely at his boxers and white t-shirt.

"Exactly. Now hurry up."

Neal laughed and disappeared into the hallway leading to his bathroom and closet.

Eight minutes later Neal found that Syrie had laid out a shirt and tie for him, along with a cinnamon roll and a thermos of coffee. Neal dressed quickly with a broad grin. Syremmine was definitely something special.

…

"Syrie?" Neal called, stepping into his room.

"I'm in here," she replied, her voice a little muffled. If it had been anyone else Neal would have been concerned.

He followed the little hall, peering into the closet before continuing on to the bathroom where Syremmine was busy preparing her appearance for that night.

Neal lightly rapped on the doorframe to let Syremmine know he was coming in. She was bent double over the sink, running dye through her hair.

"Yes, Caffrey?"

"I've got your ID for tonight. All it needs is a picture."

"Wonderful. Thanks, Neal. What's my name tonight?" Her voice was slightly muffled by the sink

"Amber Underwood, a gifted artist who works in reproductions of the masterpieces. She is currently dating Tony Amari, a gemologist who works for the Smithsonian."

She picked up her head, her hair falling around the old towel she had hung over her shoulders. "Great. Let me finish with my hair and get my contacts in. Pick a color and a pair of glasses, pretty please?"

Neal selected a pair of green contacts and rectangular glasses with tortoise shell frames. "You want me to go get you a nicer shirt?"

"What's wrong with my t-shirt?" she asked innocently.

He raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, go ahead. I don't have any ideas as to what shirt would be best so just choose one."

He took his time choosing a shirt for her. This ID would be special. Amber Underwood and Tony Amari were the first aliases they had used together. He eventually settled on a silky black V-neck and a white undershirt.

He draped the shirts over the back of a chair and pulled out the ingredients for oatmeal raisin cookies, knowing Syremmine would appreciate it. Besides, it would be awhile before she was done with her hair.

Half an hour later the shower turned off and the third batch of cookies came out of the oven. Neal checked to make sure that the oven was off then grabbed the shirts and a cookie.

She had finished with her hair and it was twisted up onto the back of her head, held in place by a clip. She had pulled her jeans back on but her shirt was discarded on the floor by her feet, obviously with the theory that she would be taking it off again shortly, so why bother. A towel was wrapped around her torso, the straps of her bra disappearing into the terrycloth folds.

She leaned over the sink as she carefully painted her lips with a delicate shade of rose. Her eyes were outlined in emerald a shade lighter than her eyes now that she had the colored contacts in.

"Planning on standing there forever, Caffrey?"

He shrugged. "You looked busy."

She turned to face him, her now-copper colored hair falling around her shoulders as she pulled the clip from it. "Nope. Is that a cookie?" Her eyes lit up.

He passed it to her and she bit into it greedily. "Mmm, Neal. I've missed your cooking."

He laughed. "You just like my cooking because I make cookies."

She swallowed and brushed the crumbs from her fingers. "That too. So what shirt did you choose?"

Neal tossed it to her. "Your hair'll stand out."

"That it will. You have more cookies?" She looked longingly toward his room.

"Of course. Get dressed, we'll finish the ID, and you can have more cookies."

He slipped out of the bathroom and barely made it to the main part of his room before she ran up behind him. "Cookies?"

He turned her toward the board that had been set up. "Smile," he directed, grabbing a camera.

He barely got a picture before she was off again towards the table where the cookies sat on cooling racks.

Neal couldn't help but grin as she settled herself in front of the cookies and methodically started eating, making sure that she got every crumb. He had forgotten what she looked like in glasses, the way she bit her lip when concentrating on something, the way she cupped a hand under the cookie as she bit into it to ensure that not a single crumb would escape.

After she had eaten ten or so of the cookies she stood up rather regretfully. "Everything in moderation, I suppose."

Neal laughed. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Yeah, well, after I left I didn't have you to pull me back and tell me no anymore." She shrugged. "And you can't tell me that the same thing didn't happen to you. Its amazing you lasted for as long as you did before getting arrested without me."

"I wasn't that bad!"

"Caffrey, you were worse, if I remember correctly."

"This from the one who once stole more than enough junk food to get us through eight months?"

"I planned that out! You're more impulsive."

He snorted. "Yeah, sure. You used to lie so reflexively that when you did bother to tell the truth the adults accused you of making things up."

She shrugged. "Hey, it was obviously the wrong message to send to a child like me. However, you were the one who told the whole school that we were going out because you thought our cover might be threatened."

"That was different! People were starting to wonder why we were seen together so often in awkward places… most of which were your fault, I might add."

"If you're referencing the closet incident I'll remind you that it was your idea to hide in there just because you didn't like the idea of climbing into the trees."

"I couldn't climb the tree. My wrist was sprained because you felt the need to push me out of a window!"

"Come on, Caffrey. That's irrelevant. You could have climbed that tree in your sleep with only one good leg… Plus, who's the one who always kept you from doing anything stupid, like getting drunk?"

"Syrie, that's a little broad right there. And you and I were both hung over when you left."

"Nah, you downed most of that bottle of wine yourself. I only had a glass and a half. I don't get drunk before I fly."

"Hmm… actually, that does explain where all that wine went…"

They were both laughing openly now, choking their words out between giggles and snorts and snickers. They had realized that separately they could give their marks a run for their money but together… well, the world had better watch out.

They were a study in contradictions: two people had never been more different while at the same time being exactly the same. If they had been good partners before they were an incredible team now.

It was going to be an amazing night.

Hey, I actually managed to get this written and updated in a somewhat timely manner! :D
Anyway, reviews are appreciated as always and if this seems a little OOC I apologize ;)