Author's Notes: Wow! Your responses where awesome! Kudos to those of you who have pulled a con! ~coughs~ I didn't say that ~coughs~ Did you know that I was conned by a toy once and then unknowingly conned the company SwimWays into giving me another dolphin (robotic toy, same thing as the original)? Any ways that's not the con I wanted to share with you. Well, here it is my friends and I do think you'll catch the heavy irony in this!

In English we were asked to come up with an April Fools day prank. Ironically enough the teacher that read the following was the one that I chose to be my victim. She didn't see it coming even when the evidence was right in front of her. Here is what I wrote and did. (Too give her some credit this assignment was done a few months ahead of time)

If I were to pull a prank on April Fools day I would con my class into taking a test. I know it's not your typical prank but since it isn't stereotypical they'll never know what happened. It shouldn't be that hard; the teacher for the class in which I am contemplating pulling the prank on is constantly forgetting things. We take fill-in notes in that class so if I were to make my own notes for the entire chapter then I could use those as evidence. I plan on making a teacher's copy and slipping the copy into her class folder; thus making it seem like we had been given the notes. I would use my own copy to back up that evidence and have a few of my friends as support.

I would also copy the teacher's handwriting and put up that we have a test on (such and such) date. This will trick most of the class into thinking that we had been told about the test in advance. If all goes well then the test should be distributed and we should take it. I am fairly confident it will. I am looking forward to this, it should be interesting regardless of how it goes.

Turns out everything went as planned, the teacher thought that she really had assigned the test and made the notes. My friends backed me up with their own packets of notes and then we ended up taking the test. Needless to say my friends and I aced the test and everyone else failed… what an April Fools!

On with the story! Wait a sec, I need to put a warning up for this chapter so pay attention please:

1) Remember Neal is going to be posed as an item up for sale in the black market… its not to raunchy but I thought I should warn you, 2) Keep in mind that I don't write slash fics… Ok, now you guys can read away =)

Neal woke up to a pounding headache and squinted in confusion when he realized that he was leaning up against a wall instead of a tree. He cautiously moved his limbs and was relieved to find that none of them were broken. Next he slowly got to his feet and examined the room that he was in. There weren't any windows and he realized that he was in giant cage. What the hell?

The con artist winced as a searing pain shot through his head and sank back down into a sitting position. A wave of nausea shot through him and Neal groaned before swallowing the rising bile in his throat. He heard someone shift in the corner and squinted in the general direction of the sound. "P'ter?"

An answering grunt told the con artist that it was indeed the older agent and a frown line appeared in Caffrey's brow. Great, just peachy. The one person that had always caught him was trapped inside this… bird cage… with him.

Then again Peter wasn't exactly his normal self right now. Neal was drawn out of his thoughts when the agent across from him gave a hoarse cough. The younger man crawled over to his friend and winced when he saw the blood that decorated the once some-what nice suit. "Peter?" Neal called his friend's name again, his voice sounding a little bit stronger.

"Yeah?" Neal could tell that Peter was shivering slightly. Odd, he thought, it really wasn't all that cold in here. That meant…the older agent was going into shock.

Neal gently rolled Peter so that the older man was resting on his back and grimaced when he saw the nasty cut that ran through some of Peter's hair and on his cheek. So that meant the agent had a concussion. Maybe that will knock some sense into him, Neal smirked slightly and then grimaced at the pun. Yep that was a bad one Caffrey he told himself as he gently began to clean the injury.

"Peter I need you to stay awake for me ok?"

"Don't want to." The older agent sounded like a petulant child.

"Peter…" Neal growled in warning as he helped the older man sit up.

"Five minutes?"

Neal shook his head.

"Four minutes?"

"No Peter. You're not sleeping." The con artist's voice sounded exasperated.

"Three minutes?"

"NO!"

"Oh, I know, how about two minutes?" Peter gazed up at Neal hopefully, thinking that he was a genius and had just solved an impossibly hard riddle.

"NO! And don't you even say-"

"One minute?"

There was a slapping noise as Neal did a face palm in frustration before answering with an annoyed, "No."

"Fifty-nine seconds?"

That was when Neal Caffrey knew that the time spent in this cell thing would pass by very slowly.

Two Hours Later

"How about now?"

"When are you going to stop asking?" A frazzled Neal cried out in exasperation.

"When you let me sleep."

"Do you think this is funny? Huh?" Neal was no longer addressing Peter, instead the younger man was glaring at the ceiling. "What is this some kind of karma joke, because if it is it isn't funny!"

"You two are quite amusing to listen too." A voice rasped from somewhere outside the cage.

Neal spun around in confusion before standing over Peter protectively. His body was tense with anticipation. "Who are you?" The con man demanded as he glared, eyes roving the darkness in an attempt to find his captor.

"Tssk tssk, we can't have you being so disrespectful Caffrey. My clients wouldn't like that."

"I don't-wait… your clients?"

"I thought they said you were smart."

"Apparently I'm not." Neal retorted as he still searched for his tormentor.

"Humph, that won't matter anyways, not where you're going. Won't matter for your buddy either since he won't be around to think anything whatsoever."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Neal growled angrily as he shook Peter, noticing that the older man had attempted to use the con artist's distraction as a chance to snooze.

"Come here boy."

Neal didn't move.

"NOW!" The man barked.

Neal flinched before saying, "I don't know where here is smart one."

A light turned on and Neal reflexively lifted an arm to shield his eyes and looked down at Peter with concern as the older man groaned. Ignoring his orders, Neal bent down and gently adjusted his friend's position so that Peter was facing away from the light.

"Now you do so hurry up."

Neal nodded and stepped forward apprehensively. He didn't have a clue as to what he should expect. Someone opened up a door and pulled him out of the cage.

"Get him a bath, hair done, and a good wardrobe. He's going on in about an hour."

Neal looked around confused, going on what? The young man didn't have time to think about it as he was led out of the room into a fancy bathroom.

There was no shower curtain and Neal looked at the man that was apparently guarding him.

"Umm… the curtain's missing." He pointed out with a meaningful gesture.

"I know that. Now get in the shower and hurry up." The other man barked and Neal waited for him to turn around.

When the other man showed no signs of doing so Neal found himself flushing a bright red, "Could you at least turn around?"

"I'm not an idiot Caffrey. Get in the damn shower and bathe or I'll help you do it."

"No thanks." Neal responded quickly and with as much dignity as he could, took his shower.

After he had been humiliated in the shower, Neal was led to the salon area. The woman that did his hair looked like she killed pets for a living. Neal didn't attempt to strike up a conversation with her. Once the crabby old lady was done she handed him over to the clothing department. There he was measured and assessed. The people talked about him, noticing his perfections and pointing out his flaws. It made Neal feel like a horse in an auction.

Clothes were tailored to fit him and while Neal usually would have been delighted to have his clothes tailored he could only feel a sense of embarrassment and dread. These clothes weren't his style. His style was a fedora and a suit, and at night pajama bottoms.

These…outfits…showed too much for his liking.

When they had found an outfit they found satisfying, the fashion department gave him to his 'handler'. The man told him that he was to 'strut his stuff' and that if he didn't put up a good show then Peter would end up paying for it.

That was when Neal realized that he was about to be auctioned off in the black market. A part of him was screaming to make a break for it, to get out while he still could but the other part was telling him that if he did that then Peter would die. The young con-artist was torn but decided that Peter living would be worth the embarrassment he was about to go through.

As he walked out into the 'ring' the only thought running through his mind was, some freakin' fantastic birthday this is…

What had he done to deserve this?

Flashes of memories passed through Peter's mind as he lay in the darkness. He was aware of the sounds around him but couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to see where he was. The agent heard a slurred "P'ter?" and realized that Neal was with him.

Somewhere…

A scuffling sound told him that the younger man was moving over to him and then the familiar voice called his name again, sounding a little bit stronger this time.

"Yeah?" The words slipped past numbed lips weakly. Peter was shocked to hear how pathetic he sounded.

He heard Neal say something about staying awake and answered with a sulky, "Don't want too." Peter cringed inwardly when he realized that he sounded like a little kid.

The agent could hear the younger man say something else before an idea popped into Peter's head. What if he asked for just a few minutes of sleep? Surely that wouldn't hurt, right?

When his plea for five minutes was denied, Peter decided to try to whittle Neal's patience down to non-existent. Peter decided to give up once he reached the two second mark and could tell that the younger man was about to snap. He briefly wondered what Neal Caffrey would do if he was to be driven insane by incessant immaturity. It would serve the younger man right, he thought viciously, remembering all of the times Neal had driven him to the brink of insanity.

He felt more than saw the younger man standing over him and when he cracked his eyes open to see what was going on he was rewarded with the not-so-glamorous view of his criminal informant's butt. He quickly shut them again, knowing that he had just been scarred for life. Peter wished that he hadn't taken a look but then again curiosity killed the cat right?

Suddenly a bright light flooded the area and lit up his eyelids causing him to groan as his head protested the brightness violently. Gentle hands turned him away from the source of the light and Peter sighed in relief. Then he sensed the dynamic presence of Neal Caffrey move away from him and he panicked for a brief second before scolding himself.

What was he five?

Now there was nothing to stop him from letting his thoughts wander and Peter Burke allowed himself to slip into the dark depths of slumber.

The rotting body in the alleyway was only found because of its stench. It had been over a week since Blackney had been murdered and that entire time the FBI had been searching for its missing agent. The team that arrived at the site had to fight the gag reflex when the stench and sight of the decomposing flesh threatened to overwhelm them. When they did take a good look, they were surprised to see a brief case carelessly tossed down next to the body with monopoly money spread all around and on the victim.

It was especially disconcerting when they found Neal Caffrey set this up, written in blood in one of the dead agent's fist.

Author's Notes: Ummm… I know this isn't much of a birthday present Matt but I'll write a fluffy one for you soon. Think of it as belated…33 yrs old now! I need to remember that so I don't say the thirty-two year old anymore in my fics…

Neal: Humph, some birthday that was Serinidia. Why couldn't there be a shower curtain?

Me: I'm sorry?

Neal: ~glowers~

Me: Neal you still look adorable when you're pissed.

Neal: ~sighs~ I give up!

Anyways please leave me a review.

I hope this chapter wasn't too offensive for you guys, I tried too keep it as clean as possible and still stick to the storyline. Sooo, it seems like Neal can't get away from Blackney's hatred for him even when the guy is dead! Hmmm…