Chapter Nine

"Mozz," Elizabeth started as they climbed the stairway, "I'm no prude by any means, but I'm not very well-versed in all things strip club, so can you tell me what a champagne room is?"

"It's basically a room where people can pay to get privately entertained – there are couches and bottle service and an ipod dock with good speakers so one can choose their own music, and of course it has a few poles and small table stages for the dancers to show off. This place is even fully equipped for a dj to come up here for bachelor parties and things like that. I'm not real into strip clubs myself, but I've been here a few times with Neal, and this place is unreal." Mozzie said.

They were nearing the top of the stairs and Elizabeth paused. "But, what actually goes on in these private rooms?"

"Nothing too ridiculous as far as I know. Just the usual pole dances and lap dances. And it's a rule that the customers can't touch the dancer – and there is usually a security guy who is in the room to make sure everything is okay. I don't know if there's one in there now though, I doubt it. It's still early and I'm guessing since it's Neal and they know that Dessa trusts him that they are okay leaving them alone."

Elizabeth and Mozzie reached the top of the stairs and turned the corner. "Well that's a decidedly un-stripper song." Elizabeth said, speaking of the music that was coming from one of the champagne rooms. There were three rooms on the second floor. There was only one with the door closed and it was the room that had the music coming from it. Mozzie listened for a moment; the song was "Fire in Freetown" by K'naan. The conscientious rapper's voice sang out the words of the Somali classic:

Aha aha aha
Sidii hogasha roobka
Ah ah aha you shine down upon me
Aha aha aha Sidii hogasha roobka aha aha aha you shine down upon me

"Yeah I think that's a song that's special to both of them. When it came out a few years back, when Neal was still in prison, Dessa sent him a tape of it and told him that it reminded her of them. Neal told me that one of the prison guards, Bobby I think? that he gave Neal a cassette player so he could listen to it whenever he wanted."

"But wasn't Neal with Kate then?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes...so…?" Mozzie asked, at first not understanding the Mrs. Suit's confusion.

"I don't know, it seems like if he was in love with Kate – if he thought Kate was "the one" then it seems weird that he'd listen to a love song from another woman."

"Kate was the one, his soul-mate, if there is such a thing. Well, at least Neal thought so. He still thinks so to tell you the truth. He's still not over her – "

"He isn't?' Elizabeth interrupted. "He seems like he is, and he said that it was time to move on."

They hadn't moved from just around the corner at the top of the stairs. They were hiding their nervousness over what was about to happen with procrastination. Even though they thought they would do better than Peter and Jones at convincing Neal to come down to the office, they weren't as up to the task as they had originally thought.

"Yes, he seems like he is," Mozzie said, "but he plays things pretty close to the vest. He doesn't let very many people see when he's upset or hurt. Once and awhile it will come out but it's usually masked by anger then. I can count on one hand the times I've actually seen him cry – and I've known the man for nearly 18 years. Really though, it's been just over a year since Kate died, and you don't get over the death of your "one" – your future wife and mother of your children – in a year. And as for Neal listening to the song Dessa gave him, I guess I can see why you would think that is strange, but I know them both so I don't think it is. They're lovers, of course, and passionate lovers at that – but above all they are friends. It's like when soldiers go off to war and form bonds with their fellow brothers and sisters in arms; they will always be close friends because of the trauma they experienced together. So Neal can simultaneously love Dessa as much as he does and still be in love with Kate."

Elizabeth nodded her head in understanding. She looked at the room with the curtain closed and started to hestitantly move forward. Mozzie moved with her and as they reached the room he looked over and said, "Are you ready, Elizabeth?"

She nodded her head yes and Mozzie slowly turned the knob on the door and inched it open. There was a midnight blue curtain drawn and Mozzie soundlessly moved it aside. Neither Neal nor Dessa noticed – they were busy at the moment. Neal was standing up with his back to them. He was in front of a white leather sofa and he had one hand in his pants pocket and his other was cupping the back of Dessa's head, her tendrils of dark hair entangling themselves around his fingers. Dessa looked up at Neal from where she was – sitting on the edge of the sofa. He looked up to the ceiling and gave a half groan/half sigh as his hips swung slightly forward of their own volition.

Mozzie shut the curtain and the door quickly as Elizabeth said, "Uhh… are they doing what I think – "

"Yes. And we should just go back downstairs and wait." He was already starting to walk quickly down the stairs and Elizabeth, in full agreement, practically ran down.

They found Peter and Jones sitting at the main stage. They were both watching with great interest a beautiful dark-skinned woman with the rather stereotypical stage name of "Kenya" perform her seductions. Jones had wondered if she'd chosen the name or if she had been pressured into choosing something so obviously "ethnic". Peter stood up, "Back so soon? And you didn't get Neal?" He said, addressing his wife and Mozzie.

Elizabeth glanced around, she was getting more and more uncomfortable by the second. "Umm… well… I think they were…" She stammered.

"They were what?" Peter asked.

Mozzie took over for Elizabeth, "Well let's just say, it turns out Chris Rock was incorrect about the champagne room."

Jones got the reference and from his seat at the stage he looked over and unconsciously dropped open his mouth in astonishment. Peter didn't get it so he asked Mozzie, "What are you talking about?"

"We saw them doing something and we didn't want to interrupt. It would be a crime for a man to interrupt another man when he's getting… when he's getting what he's getting."

Peter looked slightly confused at why Mozzie would suddenly be worried about committing a crime when he'd shown no previous aversion to it, but it was beginning to dawn on him what Mozzie was talking about. He turned to Elizabeth, who was now standing next to him and who had looped her arm around his bicep and was holding tight, and whispered in her ear. She nodded her head.

"We can arrest them for that, can't we?" Jones asked, now rising to stand next to Peter. Jones had been following all along even though Peter had taken longer to catch on. He was thinking that if Caffrey didn't want to voluntarily help them out with the case, that they could make him if they arrested him.

"Yes," Peter said, "we can but I'm not going to do that. It would send Neal back to prison and I won't do that to him. Plus, that's not going to get him to help us find this girl. I think we just have to wait for him to come down."

"It looked like they were almost done anyway." Mozzie said. He winced as soon as he said it – his statement was true but he hadn't meant to speak aloud of such an explicit act.

But as if on cue, Neal and Dessa emerged from the stairs and started walking towards them. "Neal." Peter nodded as he arrived. "You promised to be at the office by now. You're late."

Neal avoided Peter's gaze and said simply, "I know, Peter. I'm sorry". He sat down at the main stage as his lover went on and began performing to the provocative song by Joi. The seductive rhythm began to fill the club and the lyrics played loudly:

I lose all control
When you grab a hold
And you do your trick
I love it when you lick

Lick

Mozzie thought that the song – which had to be a stripper's dream song – was especially relevant considering what he and Elizabeth had just caught Neal and Dessa doing. He blushed slightly as he looked up at the stage and saw his friend's girl completely nude and giving a customer a close-up view of her nether regions. It wasn't like this was the first time Mozzie had seen her naked, but still, the situation was beginning to make him feel as uncomfortable as Elizabeth was.

Peter sat down next to Neal and Elizabeth, Jones, and Mozzie all moved to stand behind them. Dessa was at the top of the center pole and Neal's eyes were fixed on her. Jones's eyes were too, but no one noticed – at least he hoped. He knew he was staring and he shouldn't, he should play it cold, but he couldn't help it.

"Neal," Peter said, glancing up at Dessa and then placing a gentle hand on Neal's wrist to try to get his atttention, "we need to talk."

Neal finally tore his eyes away from Dessa and turned his body to the side so he was facing his Federal Agent friend. "I know, Peter."

"You were the boy in the picture." Peter said it softly, and matter-of-factly.

Neal ground his teeth and looked down at the floor. He took his arm back from Peter in order to take a drink of his Maker's Mark that he had brought down from the champagne room – he had switched to bourbon from the scotch he'd been drinking earlier, it was rougher but it was sweeter and that's what Neal wanted; he liked his drink like he liked his women – rough and sweet. It had taken him awhile to get used to the refined wines that his Neal Caffrey personage adored, and since he essentially now wasNeal Caffrey, he now genuinely adored them too. But today… well today he was going back to his South Boston roots and sticking to variations of whisky, even if it wasn't Irish whiskey.

Neal looked Peter in the eyes and said, "Yes, I was. I was that boy." He ran a hand through his thick brown hair and shut his blue eyes for a brief second. "But I'm not anymore. I'm not that boy anymore Peter, don't you get it? If I talk about this then it means that I still am."

Peter felt a knife pierce him as Neal painfully explained himself. His words were cutting him to the core. He didn't want to do this to his friend. He wished he could just let things be buried as Neal wanted them to be, but he couldn't. A life depended on Neal whether he was ready to face his demons or not. Peter reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He had made a still photo of the little blonde girl from the disc and he unfolded it now to show his partner.

Neal looked at it and then looked up at Peter. "Who is that?"

"This is the little girl that needs our help. Martin has her, Neal. He has her and you know what he's doing to her."

After hearing Martin's name and seeing the picture of the little girl, Neal looked as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. He put his elbows on the little ledge in front of the stage and but his head down and both hands on the back of his skull, his forearms forming a protective barrier for himself. Dessa's set was just getting over and she ran to him as she saw his dejection. She saw the picture on the edge of the stage and looked to Peter: "Was she taken? By Marty?" Peter nodded his head and glanced away, slightly perturbed that her breasts, beautiful as they were, were at his eye-level.

Dessa slid off the stage and sat down on Neal's lap. She had her back to the stage and was facing so that her left side was to Peter, her right was to Neal's chest, and her front were to Elizabeth, Mozzie, and Jones. She had her legs crossed and to one side of Neal's lap and her arms slipped under Neal's arms and wrapped around his back. Neal wrapped his arms around her, bracing hard against her upper ribcage, with the top of his right wrist just grazing her under her breasts. In desperation, his hands pressed tautly the skin of her left side. She held him tight and let him bury his head in the crook of her neck. She let him lose himself for a moment in her soft olive skin, her slightly masculine musky perfume that mixed with her natural feminine scent, her wavy curls silken against his cheek. After close to a minute – a minute in which the manager of the club shot her a look like she was going to be fired if she kept this up, but she didn't care, and a minute of Neal's friends looking awkwardly around as the tender scene before them became more and more dissonant to the club life around them – Neal picked his head up from Dessa's comforting shelter and he looked into her grey-green eyes. His blue eyes were not just full of shame now, but guilt as well. "Des, it's – "

"No, Cameron." Dessa shook her head vigorously. "It's not your fault. It's not our fault that he has her."

"But it is! If I had told the FBI a long time ago, like I said I was going to, then maybe they could have caught him!" Neal's voice raised in anger at himself. He said more softly, "Maybe that girl wouldn't have had to do what we had to do. What Marty made us do…"

Peter furrowed his brow when Neal mentioned the part about telling the FBI a long time ago. Neal had wanted to do that?

"I know, Cam," Dessa continued to comfort him, "look, maybe it could have been prevented if we had told someone. It's not just you, you know. I could have said something too. I should have. But the fact is, Marty's the one whose fault this is. It's all Marty." Neal had continued to hang on to her as if for dear life, but at these words his grip began to loosen slightly. "And Cameron," Dessa continued, "you have the chance now to do the right thing." At this she got up from his lap and put on her clothes, which now consisted of a pair of boy-shorts and a crop-top. She leaned down and gave him a long, loving kiss on the lips. "I have to go get ready for another set. Cameron," she paused to let her words have the maximum effect, "I love you."

Neal gave a genuine smile and he looked into his angel's face and said "I love you too, Des." He knew what he had to do, but he wasn't sure if he could do it.

Dessa started to walk away from him and then turned to look back, sensing that he was still hesitating. "Cam, call me later if you need anything. And remember, you can be a king…"

At her words, the shame and guilt didn't totally leave Neal's eyes, but determination began to take over and they started to return to the brilliant blue that they used to be. Neal looked over to Peter and then stood up. "Okay Peter, I'm ready now."