I don't own White Collar or the characters... blah...blah...blah... Please be kind...re [view]...

A/N: hollowgirl15 - wishful thinking, huh? LOL!

Chapter Eleven

"Hey, I'm just here to help, Neal. I told Peter I would keep an eye on you."

"Uh…huh… you think this was what he had in mind?" Neal reached out and traced a finger softly down her arm. Despite the dim light, her skin seemed to glow.

"Probably not. Since when did you care?" She sent him an easy inviting smile.

"It was a fleeting moment." He smiled mischievously back at her. "See, I'm already past it."

"I can see that." Sara broadened her smile as she unfolded her hands, and placed one into Neal's. "But we really ought to get this work out of the way first."

"Work before play, huh?" He winked at her and flashed her his best dazzling smile, as he stood, and walked around the end of the table without letting go of her hand, and pulled her to her feet. "I've always been more of a play before work kind of person."

He led her to the bedroom, pulling his shirt off over his head as she settled down on the edge of the bed. He heard her let out a gasp as he brought his arms down, and she stood back up, gingerly running a hand down the scar on his left shoulder. The memories of being kidnapped and stabbed still all too fresh in his mind; he drew away from her, trying to avoid the questions he knew were coming. She approached from behind, quietly placing her hands on the back of his shoulders, and laying her head on the bare skin. She vaguely remembered the details about the DeLuca case, it wasn't one she had worked on; she hadn't been prepared for how seeing the evidence of what had happened would effect her. She regretted her reaction; she could feel him trembling slightly under her hands.

"NEAL!" The man's voice was out of place, and suddenly the scene in the apartment vanished, and he was standing alone, surrounded in darkness. "Neal, come on buddy."

He could hear the voice, it was Peter's, but couldn't see anyone. He spun around, frantically trying to find his mentor, when he found nothing all he could do was scream his partner's name.

"Neal?" Peter brushed the shoot from his partner's face, as he laid him down on the grass outside the barn. His adrenaline was still pumping through his veins, and his voice was just as shaky as his hand. He had turned as he had gotten to the door, only to watch as a piece of burning rafter had crashed down on top of Neal, as he lay unconscious on the floor. It had been everything he and Sara could do to get the large doors open and drag Neal's limp body out of the building as it had imploded into a fiery heap of debris. The scene outside hadn't been much better; they had exited to find the house had been torched as well. The whole property was engulfed in a hot red glow. Peter's gut told him this was now a murder investigation as well.

"p..tr..." Neal rocked his head from side to side as he mumbled the name.

"How do we get out of here?" Sara's voice held concern as she knelt down next to Neal.

"There aren't many houses around and he's not going to be able to walk out. We're going to have to find something to cut his anklet." Peter glanced from Sara's face down to Neal's. A small trickle of blood was forming down the side of his face from where the beam had crashed down on him. "Stay with him. I think there was an equipment shed behind the barn."

Sara nodded as she watched Peter head back towards the flames; with any luck, the shed would still be there.

"p...tr..." Neal softly mumble again, drawing Sara's attention.

"He'll be right back, Neal." She softly laid her hand over the wound above his eye, gently picking the larger ash pieces out of his hair.

"Sara?" Neal's eye's slowly opened, they where glassy and hollow as he looked up at her. "You OK?"

She nodded her head, she could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and she didn't dare speak at the moment. Neal slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, inching back so he was next to her, and placed his good arm around her. Sara let her head drop down to rest on his shoulder, as she wrapped both arms around him.

"Where's Peter?" There was a hint of panic in his voice as he asked the question.

"He went to find something to cut your anklet with." She mumbled into his shirt, without lifting her head.

"Alright." He relaxed a little as he reassured himself that Peter wasn't trapped in the fire.

"What?" Sara picked up her head and looked at him when she felt his body suddenly tense back up.

"My anklet..." He regrettably let go of Sara, and reached down to pull up his pant leg, confirming his fear. "Somebody already cut it."

"It's gone?" Sara's tone was one of alarm. "How did they know..."

"I don't know." Neal slowly pushed himself to his feet, holding out his hand for Sara to do the same. "Let's find Peter. We've got to get out of here."

They hadn't made it more than a few steps, when Neal was regretting getting up. His head started to spin, and the dizziness was threatening to put him back on the ground; Sara kept an arm around his middle to help steady him. He was relieved to look up and see Peter's silhouette against the flames, headed back towards them.

"I couldn't find anything. The shed is just about burnt to the ground." Peter's tone was one of defeat.

"It doesn't matter. Somebody's already cut it." Neal felt his body sway, and held on to Sara as tightly as he could.

Peter clenched his hand and shoved it down in his pocket. He could feel the anger and frustration starting to take control, and he desperately needed to stay calm and focused. If Neal's anklet had been cut, then the team would already be looking for them. He just hoped they weren't too far away on a wild goose chaise

"Sirens." Sara blurted out, turning her head to look behind her. "I can hear sirens."

"I hope they're friendly." Neal nodded to Peter. "I bet you don't have your ID anymore."

"Shit. If I did, it was in my jacket pocket." Peter looked past Neal and Sara, down the long driveway. The sirens were getting louder, and he could see the flashing lights as they came down the road. "This ought to be interesting."

Neal could tell by the look on Sara's face that she hadn't figured out what he and Peter were talking about. He decided it would be better not to point out that they were standing in front of a burning house and barn that had belonged to someone fairly well known in the community. Or, the high likely hood that the properties' owner would probably be found among the rumble once the flames were put out. They hadn't been too far from being found in the ruble themselves, and the thought sent a shiver through his body.

"You alright Neal?" Sara had felt him tremble.

"Just need to sit down again." He let her help him back down to the ground, and he held his injured arm tightly against his body with his other hand. The pain from the shoulder was getting unbearable again. Sara found herself a spot on the ground next to him, and they watched quietly as Peter started towards the police cruisers pulling in. Neal closed his eyes, and sucked in a deep breath, trying to stuff the pain back, concentrating on the feeling of Sara's hand gently rubbing circles on his back. He could hear the pumps of the firetrucks starting up, and the combined noise of them and the fire make it impossible to hear anything else. He opened his eyes when he could no longer feel Sara next to him, only to find her being held by a police officer. It wasn't but a slit second later, and he has being roughly hauled to his feet. He could see Sara trying to say something, but he couldn't hear her. He frantically looked around for Peter, finding him still standing next to the farthest police cruiser, his own hands cuffed behind his back. Suddenly his arm was jerked back behind him, sending a painful shock though his body, and he felt the cold steel of handcuffs being tightened around his wrists. The pain was more than his mind could take. The last thing he saw was Sara screaming to him, before he black out again.