Chapter 10

'So when are you meeting him?' Peter asked, phone cradled between his ear and his shoulder.

'Tomorrow morning at 11:30 at a bar in the Bronx' Neal answered as he stood barefoot in his kitchen, wearing nothing but a paint splattered undershirt and old chinos. He'd spent most of the afternoon in his studio with only Hope for company and he'd come up for air just in time to get dinner started.

He blew on the contents of the wooden spoon and took a taste, grabbing for the oregano and adding a few extra shakes to his sauce. 'Moz says the guy's desperate to find someone to handle the security system at the museum' he added.

'Why would he be looking for someone at this late date?' Peter asked, mostly to himself. 'It seems strange, don't you think?'

Neal took another taste and set down the spice. 'According to Jimmy, the guy Goldberg had lined up for the job dropped out at the last minute.'

'It just sounds fishy to me' Peter remarked. He hoped Neal's safety wasn't being compromised by sending him undercover on this case. So much could go wrong during any given operation and Neal had been at risk of getting hurt so many times in the past that Peter had stopped counting.

'Look, maybe he's put in a lot of time and energy preparing for this job and he doesn't want to walk away without giving it one last chance' Neal reasoned as he continued to hover over the stove, stirring the bolognese sauce.

'I don't know, Neal…' Peter said, sounding unsure. 'Why don't you stop by the Bureau before you meet with him and we'll give you a listening device, just to be on the safe side.'

'Okay' Neal said, seemingly unconvinced. He glanced over at Hope who was happily playing in the family room nearby. 'It just seems like overkill… this guy's not going to do anything in broad daylight.'

There was silence on the other end of the line.

'Look, it's an in, Peter. If it doesn't feel right, I'll back off' Neal added in the hopes of reassuring his best friend.

'All right' Peter said, as always overprotective of his ex-CI. 'We'll be listening; call me the minute you get back or better yet, stop by and see me.'

'Will do' Neal promised as Hope came sprinting towards him from the family room. 'Look, Peter. I gotta go, Sara will be home any minute.'

'Be careful, Neal' Peter said before hanging up.

'Poppa, poppa!' Hope called out, barreling towards him like a careening, out of control Mack truck. Her arms opened wide and she wrapped them around Neal's legs with an overabundance of enthusiasm, squeezing tight. Neal reacted by grabbing on to the edge of the kitchen counter to keep from losing his balance as she practically ran him over.

'Hello my little buttercup!' Neal cooed breathlessly as he scooped her up into his arms and settled her on his hip. 'Careful, careful that's hot' he warned as she reached tentatively for the pot on the stove.

'Hot!' she repeated, her eyes narrowing. 'Poppa say bery, bery, bery hot!'

'That's right. It's very, very hot and if you touch it you'll get a big bobo!' Neal concurred with a nod. 'And Daddy would be very, very sad and he would cry.'

He gave her an exaggerated pout, wiping fake tears and for a moment, he could tell she wasn't sure if he was pretending or not. Hope pulled away to look at his face, sensing the playfulness in his eyes and she giggled, grabbing his nose and pulling gently, shorthand for I love you.

'Hope no touch' she promised.

'That's my girl!' Neal grinned as he proceeded to lift up her t-shirt, bringing his mouth to her belly and blowing a series of loud raspberries. 'I love you, I love you, I love you' he repeated over the sound of her heartfelt laughter '…more than the stars and the moon!'

'Moon!' she repeated as he tickled her, setting off another flurry of giggles.

He stepped away from the stove and held her tightly against his chest. He couldn't get enough of his little princess, couldn't get enough of her warm smile, her spontaneous giggles, her bright, inquisitive eyes. Her mere presence was a daily reminder of what was most important in his life and he held her close as she momentarily melted in his warm embrace.

Like any good two-year old worth her salt, Hope was unable to stop fidgeting for very long and she pulled away to look into his eyes.

'Ayplane!' she clamoured, her arms already out by her side.

'Airplane? You want to play airplane?' Neal asked as he lifted her up over his head and began to run around the kitchen to the happy sounds of Hope's shrieks. Her gleeful screams blended with Neal's exuberant laughter and the make believe sound of a plane as the two of them forgot time and space for a brief moment.

They were interrupted by the front door opening and the two of them glanced up to see Scott standing there.

Hope let out one last shriek and Neal set her down, watching her race to the door to greet the newcomer.

'Cott! Cott! Cott!' she squealed with joy and she bounced up and down, a pure bundle of energy.

'Hope! Hope! Hope!' Scott responded as he imitated her movements and began to bop around, to her absolute delight.

'Poppa, ayplane!' she enthused, her face alight with joy.

'Oh yeah?' he responded, not sure what she'd said - considering he wasn't very fluent in 'toddler speak'.

'It smells great in here' Scott commented as he got closer to the kitchen. 'What's for dinner… Dad?' he said with a wide grin.

Neal responded with a matching smile. He could think of worse things in life than having a son like Scott Rivers; God willing, he would have a son of his own someday.

'We are having spaghetti and meat sauce' Neal enunciated as he returned to the stove, intent on finishing up the preparations before his wife got home.

'Is this your usual get-up for cooking' Scott teased as he looked Neal up and down. 'Is this some sort of weird fetish of Sara's or something?'

Neal shook his head and grabbed for the shirt that was draped over the back of the kitchen chair, pulling off his undershirt and replacing it with the clean shirt.

'No, smart ass, I was working in the studio' he explained. 'You want to give me a hand setting the table?'

'Hope help!' the toddler shouted, hopping up and down.

'You, missy, need to go pipi before Mommy gets home' Neal reminded her, reaching out to take her hand.

'I can take her' Scott said as he led the way to the powder room by the front of the house. 'And then…' he added, turning to look at Hope '…you and I can set the table together.'

Neal watched them walk away and his face grew serious. Hopefully, this undercover operation would end successfully with Jerome Goldberg behind bars and Scott Rivers a free man.

WCWCWC

Friday promised to be a glorious early summer day in New York complete with a warm breeze and clear skies. Neal had been awake since before dawn, thanks to the chirping birds right outside his and Sara's bedroom window - and the persistent hammering of the noisy woodpecker who had recently taken up residence in the neighbour's yard. Most mornings, Hope's boisterous arrival in their bedroom heralded the start of their day but on this particular morning, Neal had a lot on his mind and sleep had been elusive.

He pondered Scott's precarious situation; for all the reassurances he'd given the young man, he was still unsure how he and Peter would go about proving Scott's innocence. Goldberg must have perceived the young man as some sort of imminent threat and had decided to use the kid's vulnerabilities against him. But Scott's status as an ex-con would make it difficult to prove he'd been nothing but an innocent by-stander. Perhaps Peter would come along with Neal to meet with Scott's parole officer and see what could be done to get him out of this mess.

Neal glanced over at Sara, still blissfully asleep. He thought of the gun he'd spotted in Goldberg's safe; he didn't want to do anything to jeopardize the wonderful life he and Sara shared and he curled up behind her, arms snaking around her waist, his face buried in her hair.

She stirred to his touch. 'Is it six yet?' she moaned, voice sleepy.

'Not yet, babe' Neal murmured softly. 'Go back to sleep.'

He felt her instantly relax against his body and he heard her snort loudly before slipping back to sleep. Neal caressed her left hand, feeling her wedding ring under his touch and he flashed back to the day he'd slipped the diamond and emerald ring on her finger, two short years earlier. Marriage truly was an adventure with countless twists and turns and his life with Sara and Hope had left him fulfilled in ways he'd never dreamed possible. He wanted nothing more that to continue on this wonderful path, with his beautiful wife and daughter - and if the planets were aligned, maybe a couple more Ellis-Caffrey babies.

Neal pulled away, landing on his back and he brought his own hand up in the semi-dark room to stare at his plain gold wedding band. As foreign as it had felt in the months following their wedding, it was now part of who he was, a symbol of Sara's commitment to him and of his pledge of undying love to her. He slipped it off and placed it on the bedside table for safekeeping in preparation for his meeting with Goldberg and he returned to his troublesome thoughts.

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The Rocking Horse was a little hole-in-the-wall in a rather seedy neighbourhood in South Bronx. Neal made his way there, clad in dark jeans and a light black jacket, his hair slicked back, arriving just as he'd planned, three minutes after the agreed upon meeting time. In his experience, it wouldn't do to keep someone waiting more than a few minutes and yet, he never wanted to appear overeager when he was 'auditioning' for a job.

Upon arrival, Neal let his eyes roam the place, searching for Michael Pearson aka Jerome Goldberg. Despite the early hour, he spotted him nursing a glass of amber liquid in a nearby booth. Neal hung back at the bar; it wouldn't do to let the guy know he recognized him. Apparently, the same couldn't be said for Goldberg who must have checked Nick Halden's picture online; he gave Neal a head nod, inviting him to join him at his table.

'Halden' he said as Neal slipped in across from him. 'Jimmy tells me you might be interested in doing a small job for me' he said, skipping the preliminaries and going straight to the heart of the matter.

'That depends…' Neal responded confidently. 'What are we talking about, exactly? You know, I don't come cheap' he couldn't help but add, brazenly.

This was a Bureau sanctioned operation and Neal would not be seeing a red cent from any eventual arrangement with the thief, but nevertheless, he was proud of his very unique skill set and he wasn't about to prostitute himself for less than he was worth, no matter what the circumstances. After all, he had his pride.

Goldberg laughed, a twisted sardonic laugh and looked Neal up and down. 'You're all that, are you, Halden?'

'Let's just say my skills are very specialized and I do have a reputation to maintain' Neal responded with just a touch of arrogance - a characteristic he shared with Nick Halden.

The man nodded. If Nick Halden was half as good as he'd been led to believe, he was definitely the man for the job. Goldberg pulled out the plans for the electrical system of the Nicole Stinson Gallery and pointed to the area where the security system was located.

'Its a Lorus 848' he declared, studying Neal's face carefully.

Neal let out a quiet whistle. 'Wow! Those have only been on the market for a few months' he declared.

'Are you saying you can't do this?' the man asked, leaning in.

'I'm saying they've only been on the market for a few months…' Neal repeated, staring the man down. 'I can do it…. but it's going to cost you.'

Goldberg's eyebrows rose, unbelieving; was this guy scamming him?

Neal stared back, taunting the other man. 'Look, if you have someone else you think could do this…'

Goldberg remained cool but Neal wasn't fooled; he could see the barely disguised look of panic in his eyes. He'd probably been planning this heist for months and now, the gallery had gone and changed its security system with days to go before the exhibit, leaving him scrambling. Neal could pretty well name his price and the guy would come running; the thought gave him a twisted sense of power and satisfaction.

'So, why don't you give me a few details on this job of yours' Neal said, hoping to get the Bureau some information on the planned heist. 'What's your target?'

'All in good time' the man said. '… if we can come to an agreement.'

Neal studied his face as the man continued. 'I'm prepared to offer you twenty five big ones.'

Neal scoffed loudly and pretended to get to his feet. Considering the man stood to rake in a fortune, his offer was a mere pittance and that fact did not escape Nick Halden.

Goldberg laughed and spoke up. 'All right, all right. Halden' he said. 'Thirty.'

Neal shook his head and slowly got to his feet.

'Look, I don't need this grief' he bragged. 'Until you tell me what the job is and the prep work you've done, I'm not getting involved. And just so you know, I wouldn't touch a Lorus 848 for anything less than fifty.'

WCWCWC

Peter pushed his chair back and stood from the conference room table at the White Collar offices, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as Jones and Diana Berrigan sat and watched their boss' blood pressure rise.

'What the hell is he doing?' Peter shouted as he began to pace the room.

Diana laughed softly; Caffrey was something else. The ex-con had a way of driving Peter crazy and making things more complicated than they needed to be. Of course, there was always a method to his madness but still… Neal's unorthodox methods drove his ex-handler around the bend every single time.

'He's jeopardizing his chances of getting the job' he shouted at the inanimate listening device sitting on the conference room table.

'Peter' Diana attempted, 'Caffrey is just maintaining cover. He knows this guy is trying to screw him over and he doesn't want to look like a pushover, that's all.'

Peter shook his head in desperation once more. 'Did we forget to tell him he's not really breaking into the gallery?' he asked rhetorically. 'But no! Neal always has to push his luck!'

'That doesn't matter to Neal' Diana responded. 'You know that.'

Jones piped up as Peter began to calm down and take his seat. 'Caffrey lives his old life vicariously through his undercover work, you know that. Let's just be thankful he's on our side.'

Peter nodded and took a cleansing breath. Neal was always prepared to help - as long as it was on his terms. That would never change.

WCWCWC

'All right. Fifty' Goldberg agreed as Neal towered over him. 'Now, get off your high horse and take a seat and I'll tell you what this is all about.'

Neal gave a small self-satisfied smirk and slid back into the booth. He knew Peter was listening on the other end and that he'd probably given him a coronary with his hard ball negotiating he had his standards and he wasn't about to do a job for less than he was worth - even if the job would never come to fruition.

WCWCWC

Neal sauntered into the White Collar offices with that annoying spring in his step. All eyes moved to look at him, dressed casually but smartly in his 'criminal' attire.

'Good job, Caffrey' Diana called out as he stopped momentarily in front of her desk.

'Did Peter think so too?' he asked playfully - although, truth be told, not disappointing Peter was always in the back of Neal Caffrey's mind.

'Let's just say you almost gave him a heart attack when you started negotiating your price' she admitted.

'Know your worth, right?' Neal said with confidence.

Peter's voice floated down the stairs, interrupting them. 'Hey, Halden!' he called out. 'Get up here.'

Neal gave an eyebrow wag to Diana before following the voice of his master and climbing up the stairs to Peter's office. Just like the old days, he sat himself across from his best friend, feet instantly on his desk as Peter frowned.

'So, was that handled to your satisfaction?' Neal asked, with a wide grin.

'I thought he was going to tell you to get lost there for a minute' Peter admitted.

'Peter, Peter… yee of little faith. I had the guy eating out of the palm of my hand' Neal responded with characteristic gloating.

'So…' Peter continued, not wanting to feed Neal's ego anymore than necessary. 'Now, we know we have a week to get organized, talk to the owner, get some extra security…'

'Really?' Neal asked. 'Peter, you're just going to scare him off. Isn't it better to let him go ahead with the plan and catch him with his hand in the cookie jar?'

'What are you saying?'

'He didn't say but… I got the distinct impression he's got someone on the inside. Maybe an employee… or even the owner. If we start pulling out the big guns, he might just call the whole thing off and disappear off the grid again.'

Peter frowned; they'd met with Nicole Stinson and she seemed genuinely horrified to think that her gallery might be marked for a break-in while they were hosting such a prestigious event. His instincts had told her she'd known nothing about the imminent theft.

'Stranger things have happened, Peter' Neal reminded him. 'Remember the Torrington case?'

Peter nodded reluctantly. 'You're right' he said. 'All right, so what's next?'

'Like any respectable cat burglar, I'm going to study the Lorus 848 and get ready to hack into the gallery's security system…' Neal declared, morphing into his Nick Halden persona. '… and wait for further instructions.'

'Well, keep me posted if he contacts you' Peter said, his eyes moving to the pile of files accumulating on his desk. Obviously, there were many other cases clamouring for his attention.

'Peter, there is one more thing' Neal said, sounding serious. 'Scott and I are meeting with his parole officer in an hour and I was hoping you'd come with us and try to move things along.'

Peter pursed his lips; obviously this was not top of his to do list, especially on a Friday afternoon before calling it quits for the weekend. He looked up at Neal's pleading eyes, as usual, unable to resist.

'All right' he finally said as he got to his feet. 'But no more surprises!'

TBC