A/N: Okay, I'm going to be honest and say IDK when they next update will be. I literally just finished chapter 8, which is why this is late. But I do want to finish this before I get too involved with school again, so... Yep.
Despite Quinn's plan, not much work got done over the next few weeks.
With the stolen painting case to deal with as well, the White Collar division was working extra hard and they soon found that, even with staff working 24 hours at a time, there wasn't enough people for the workload they had. Therefore, Quinn was drafted in to work on the murder case. It was less exciting than it sounded; she simply spend the day sat at Neal's desk, looking through wanted criminals to try and place a face with the one she'd seen. The only good thing was that she didn't need to make her own tea; Jones seemed to enjoy surprising her every hour with a new cup. Once in a while, Neal would make a surprise appearance with gifts.
"One raspberry and white chocolate muffin," he declared, setting the bag on the desk and collapsing in the chair Peter had just evacuated. "And, because I think you deserve a treat, a chai tea latte."
Quinn rolled her eyes, putting her hands together so Neal could place it on her palms. "The tea is the treat?"
"I thought tea was always a treat for you," he replied, taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes falling to the files scattered around her. "No luck?"
She shook her head; his face was nowhere… luckily. "Do the FBI have files on everyone?"
Neal shrugged. "Just known criminals, probably. Why?"
"Because I don't think he was known," she replied carefully, picking at her muffin. "He looked… he looked too young to have a record."
Frowning, Neal leant forwards. "Tell me again," he told her quietly. "What – "
"Neal!"
They both glanced up to find Peter stood by the conference room, using his thumb to point towards the hive of investigation that was going on behind him. The White Collar bees were swarming around, hurrying here and there, trying to solve the case. It surprised Quinn, considering it seemed like such a simple theft. Then again, she'd made a point to keep out of the planning for that part, so who knew what Mozzie and Neal had done to cover Mozzie.
Sighing, Neal stood, leaning forwards as he did to whisper in her ear, "Half an hour and then you pretend the muffin made you ill, okay?"
"Okay," she agreed, frowning as he stood. "Why?"
Neal smirked as he straightened his tie. "I don't want to keep an art student from her art."
By now, Quinn had learnt to go along with Neal's plans. So, roughly half an hour, she was on her way to the bathroom, trying to look queasy, when Diana stopped her. It only took Quinn a sentence before Diana was gone, either not sure how to react to a sick nineteen year old or not sure she should assist something Quinn had done one a day for months once when she should be working. Whatever the reason, Diana left so Quinn could lock herself in a toilet and wait a moment, before leaving the bathroom. She was nearly back to the office when Neal came out of nowhere and grabbed her, pulling her in the direction she'd just come.
"Has anyone ever told you that you are a brilliant actress?" he asked as they got in the lift.
"Not really," she confessed, adding, "But I did get an early admission to Yale to study drama, so…"
Neal turned and stared at her, surprised. "Why didn't you tell me? That's first date material!"
"But the reason for going to NYAA is a second date topic," she replied, unable to stop a grin slipping onto her face as she added, "I don't want to scare you away before we've even begin."
A smirk spread across Neal's face as he turned back around to press the ground floor button, the door shutting quickly afterwards. "Apparently, it's not just me and Peter who think there's a we."
Quinn didn't reply, biting her lip as she realised too. It had slipped so easily between her lips, when in her mind it was still being caught by barbed wire. She'd given away the pronoun so easily before, to so many people. And what had it achieved? Nothing but heartache and pain. They'd all left and gone their own ways, leaving her to fend for herself. Except for one, who simply wanted -
Suddenly, Quinn stopped, frowning. They'd just exited the White Collar office and were walking along the street, back to the apartment. Neal had been talking, enlightening her on the progress the team had made on catching the art thief (aka none), and she'd been half listening, paying more attention to the city. She preferred New York at night, but recently she hadn't seen much of the city during the day. It was a refreshing change to see people going about their daily business.
That was when she'd spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Their eyes met and that was all it took. One look, and they were gone, as if they were never there. But they had been there. In fact, thinking back, they'd been there a long time, trailing them since they'd left the office.
"Neal…" she said, cutting into his still on-going update, reaching out and instinctively grabbing his wrist. "Neal, I think we're being followed."
He frowned, glancing up and down the street before back to her. "Okay. Which direction and who?"
"Ahead," she told him, pulling him back when he went to move that way. "And he – he works for Williams."
Neal frowned, but instead of commenting, he just took her hand in his and dragged her across the road, away from the man. As they went, Quinn looked back over her shoulder and saw him, looking around. Then, when he was sure no one was watching him, he dashed across after them. He was walking quicker now, realising they were trying to get away from him. One look of his face and Quinn knew he was determined to get what he came for.
"It's not going to – "
Before she'd managed to finish, Neal had taken a sudden right, pulling her into a small alley off of the sidewalk. He kept pulling her until they were stood under the fire exit stairs, drenched in shadows. He stood in front of her, shielding her from view as he looked back up the alley, checking the coast before looking back down to her.
"Here," he said quietly, taking off his hat and placing it on her head.
Quinn adjusted it, making it sit better on her head as she watched, intrigued by his plan. While continuously glancing over his shoulder, Neal proceeded to take of his suit jacket and chuck it against the wall behind her, blending in with the shadows. Then his navy tie joined the jacket on the floor, which made Quinn both very confused and very nervous. She had no idea what they were doing until Neal unbuttoned the top few of his shirt and took a step closer.
"Now," he purred, slipping his hands onto her waist, bringing her closer to him. "Here's the plan: you pretend to make out with me so – "
"Excuse me?" she gasped, exasperated.
Neal shrugged. "Or you can really make out with me. Either way – "
Quinn rolled her eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips as she reached up and pulled his mouth down to hers. She didn't like to admit it, but she didn't need to be told to kiss Neal twice – reason or no reason. Not for the first time, a conman had managed to steal her heart. She hoped she'd keep it in tack this time, though, so she refused to admit her feelings. To her, it wasn't a light thing. But to Neal… well, if he wanted some fling while she was there, she guessed that was good enough.
It was always hard to tell what Neal was thinking, however – not unless he said it out loud before holding her close, kissing her passionately until they were sure they'd lost their stalker and that Mozzie would notice their disappearance.
