A rare moment

Peter watched the girl Lindsey threw herself in the arms of her father, who just arrived at the docks. He heard another car arrived and saw Neal step out of it, together with Jones.

"Where you been? Missed all the action."

"Oh, yeah? I got hung up with an old friend."

Peter took a good look at the kid. He had been kidnapped and put under a lot of strain.

"How'd that go?" he asked.

"Think I may have burned a bridge," Neal answered without a hint of trauma. He watched Lindsay and Gless hugging with Rice hovering nearby. "Looks like Agent Rice is ready for her close-up. Heard the camera crews are already on their way."

"Let her have it." Peter had never cared much for that kind of attention.

Rice though pointed at them and gestured for them to come. Peter was flabbergasted. She of all people!

"Oh, jeez," his pet convict whined beside him. "Did she just give us the finger point?"

"She did."

They walked over to the reunited family.

"You're the men responsible for bringing my daughter back," Gless held out his hand towards Peter. He shook it.

"We're all a team here," he said.

"Mr. Gless—" Neal started.

"I'd say we're more than even now, Caffrey," Gless interrupted.

"Thanks," Lindsay said to Neal, "for playing round two."

"Don't mention it."

The happy family left. Rice turned to Neal.

"Was a hell of a thing you did today."

"I could say the same thing about you," the kid replied.

Rice looked at her feet for a second.

"No hard feelings?" she asked.

"Don't…" Neal shook his head slightly, "stretch it."

To Peter's surprise, Rice did not. She just nodded, accepting the facts. And he was even more surprised when he saw her leaving. Peter followed her.

"You're not sticking around for the press? You're the hottest interview in town."

"I probably have a disciplinary hearing to prepare for anyway," she said. "About how things went down last night—"

"Oh, look, in the end, we got it done." If she had learned something from it, Peter was happy.

"Yeah, even so…" she said. "I hope we work together again sometime. Even if you're the one calling the shots."

"One day, I'll remind you that you said that."

They shared a grin, and Rice continued towards her car. Jones came up to him.

"Got Caffrey's anklet."

Peter blinked and turned to Rice.

"Thought your people already put it on him."

"Not me. He's your consultant, remember?"

Peter sighed. Then he realized that Neal was not around any longer. The kid has disappeared into thin air.

"Anybody seen Caffrey?" he called out to the agents and police officers standing around them. He just got a 'no, sir' in return. There were at least ten people around!

"Damn it," Peter cursed. "You gotta be kidding me." Rice just smiled and left.

Peter held out his hand to Jones who gave him the anklet.

"Jones, let's check the usual suspects."

"You don't think he has escaped, do you?" Jones asked.

"No. He'll be back in two hours or so. Claiming he forgot about it."

"But?"

Peter shook his head.

"Let's just keep it at that for the time being."

They got in the car and drove back to the office. After all things Neal and been through that day, he still had the wits to use the time off-anklet. When all was safe and done, he reminded himself. The kid had done his job with splendor. Then he had disappeared. He sat down by his desk and wrapped up the work for the day. He saw Neal exit the elevator and jog through the office.

He held up the kid's anklet without looking at him.

"Forget something?"

"Made it all the way home before I realized it was gone."

"Just slipped your mind?" Peter glanced at Neal who grinned all over this face. When he saw Peter's look the smile was gone.

"I came back," his pet convict pointed out.

"What did Alex have to say?" Peter asked and saw to his amusement that Neal was taken aback. "You had a long brown hair on your jacket," he explained. "How many brunettes you meet before work? Don't answer that."

Peter watched the young, brilliant man. A man who so stubbornly insisted on living in a dream world, chasing a girl who left him. Twice.

"All your brunettes seem to be connected to that music box. You and Alex are planning to steal it, aren't you?"

A direct question, straight on, no room for loopholes. He was quite sure Neal did not approve of the approach.

"She's just an old friend."

Considering what situation he had found them once, acting or not, he was quite sure that statement was the truth. But friends could be more than 'just old friends'.

"She's a fence, Neal. She either knows how to find things or sell them. People like that don't trust the FBI." He finished up his work for the day and faced his friend and pet convict. "That's why you walked away without your anklet."

It was not a question. Peter was sure his theory was right and he did leave even less room for Neal to tell any of his avoiding answers.

"That's a fascinating theory."

Peter snorted. He supposed he should be pleased that Neal did not lie at least. He took one step closer to the kid.

"I'm willing to look past your little trip off the reservation because you did well today."

"Thank you—" the kid began but Peter did not want to hear it. He raised his hand.

"Don't. Remember how it felt when you saw that girl in her father's arms. Moments like that are rare." It was one of those moments that made Peter stay on his job. "But if you try to steal the music box, I will catch you."

He had no wish to do so, but he would. To be a handler meant that you had to be prepared to do so, no matter friendship. And Peter was prepared to cuff him and bring him back if needed. And he would never forgive Neal for putting him in that situation.

Neal blinked.

"Is that a threat?"

No. Peter shook his head.

"Just the way it is."

He passed Neal, took his coat and left the office. In the door, he paused and looked again at the young man. At least the kid did not smile so maybe what it was worthwhile saying what was on his heart.

"You know, you can either go back to wearing an orange jumpsuit and pining for the girl that got away or you can stay here and do something good with your life. Your choice."


Neal took a cab home and then jogged up the stairs. He would have just so much time before Peter would burst inside. He opened his door out of breath.

"You're late," Alex blamed him across the table.

"Long day."

"What's with the outfit?"

"Long story."

He pulled up the left leg of his slacks to show that he did not carry any anklet.

"Congratulations," she smiled and leaned back in her chair. "How'd you do it?"

"You'd be surprised what I get done in a day. I kept my promise. It's your turn."

Alex's tall, sexy body rose from the chair. She held a pink origami flower.

"I give you this… and we get the music box together."

"No, I told you," Neal reminded her. "It's yours when I'm through with it."

"I don't like the sound of that. We split it fifty-fifty."

"What you gonna do with half a music box?"

Alex did not appreciate the joke.

"And if you screw me on this, you know I can make your life miserable."

This was a woman he had shared his bed with, considered if he loved even. He walked close to her.

"When did you become so distrusting?" he asked, looking deep into those green eyes of hers.

"When what happened with Kate," she answered without a hint of being affected by his presence.

"Happened?"

"Yeah."

Had she been that hurt when he left? He had not fully realized to what depth.

"That's over now," he assured her.

She did not trust him. And he could not blame her.

"Nice flower," he said instead.

"I learned from the best." She gave it to him and he unfolded it. Inside was a written message. He stared at it. And then at her. She smiled.

"You go halfway around the world chasing something," Neal said, amazed, "and the whole time, it's in your own backyard."

It would not be easy, but it was doable.

Alex took her bag.

"See you soon, Caffrey."

He watched her leave. He still had that magic, pink note from Alex in both hands. As the door closed he took a few steps out on the balcony. The music box was so near! It was real and he could take it. He would get Kate back.

In his apartment, there was a solid piece of furniture fixed to the wall. A chest of drawers of sorts, with a big mirror on. It also had a few hidden compartments. Neal put Alex's note in one of them and then hurried down the stairs. He caught a cab to get back to the FBI headquarters within a reasonable time.

It surprised him that Peter had not called yet. He stepped out of the elevator. He walked straight to Peter's office.

His handler held up his anklet without looking at him.

"Forget something?"

Neal grinned. Peter trusted him enough to not cause a stir.

"Made it all the way home before I realized it was gone."

"Just slipped your mind?" his handler asked with a sting to it. Neal blinked, not sure about Peter's mood.

"I came back," Neal pointed out.

"What did Alex have to say?" Peter asked. Neal stared. What? "You had a long brown hair on your jacket. How many brunettes you meet before work?" Peter, so observant. "Don't answer that," the agent added, and Neal grinned.

Peter leaned back in his chair, watching him.

"All your brunettes seem to be connected to that music box. You and Alex are planning to steal it, aren't you?"

Neal found his fingers fiddling with a rubber-band ball on his handler's desk. He put his hands in his pockets.

"She's just an old friend."

"She's a fence, Neal." He closed the files he had been working on and rose. "She either knows how to find things or sell them. People like that don't trust the FBI." He dumped the files on the windowsill and faced Neal, placing his hands in his pockets too. "That's why you walked away without your anklet."

Neal fought to keep his face straight.

"That's a fascinating theory."

Peter snorted.

"I'm willing to look past your little trip off the reservation because you did well today."

"Thank you—"

"Don't." He raised his hand. "Remember how it felt when you saw that girl in her father's arms. Moments like that are rare. But if you try to steal the music box, I will catch you."

Neal blinked.

"Is that a threat?"

Peter shook his head.

"Just the way it is." He passed Neal, took his coat and left the office. In the door, he turned. "You know, you can either go back to wearing an orange jumpsuit and pining for the girl that got away or you can stay here and do something good with your life. Your choice."

Neal watched Peter leave and felt the victorious feeling he had had when he arrived leave him. Not only had Peter figured out what he was doing, but it also felt like he was disappointed. He knew Peter would cuff him and put him back if he had to, but Neal had never considered what his handler would feel about it. If anything, he had thought Peter enjoyed chasing him and figure out what he was up to. Now he realized that it would be no moment of victory for his friend to catch him. Not any longer.

He saw the anklet left on the desk. The idea of just leave crossed his mind. To end this bizarre and awkward friendship once and for all. The problem was that it was a friendship he cared about. Even if Peter had power over him, Peter was someone who cared, someone who was his friend. And even some part of him hated to have a relationship that limited him and prevented him from doing what he wanted, he knew he did not want to fail Peter.

The anklet felt heavier in his hand than it did on his ankle. He put his foot on a chair and tried to figure out how to put it on right. So many times it had been put on, he had never taken a closer look at it. Not that he did not want to, but because he never got the chance.

Jones stood in the door with one of his relaxed smiles.

"Need some help?"

Neal felt sheepish.

"Yeah, I suppose. Don't want to go back to prison because I put it on upside-down."

Jones took it and ten seconds later it was around his ankle.

"Okay?" the agent asked, though he just checked that it was not too tight. Neal nodded and took his foot down.

"You don't feel like taking a beer on the way home, do you?" he asked.

Jones grinned.

"A putting-on-anklet beer?"

"I was more thinking of a saving-my-life beer."

"Sure thing."