This is a collection of crossover of one-shots, and later on first chapters of longer stories, between White Collar and Chuck, which will mostly be centered on Neal/Bryce, because obsession oblige.

So, Neal being Bryce, sure, but let it be said I'm more of a Bryce-is-Neal girl than a Neal-is-Bryce girl, if you get my meaning... There might also be a few twins stories, of course, because nothing prevents me from doing that too.

Neal got drugged while in the clinic, we all know that. He said a bunch of things to Peter while high, we know that too.
What we didn't know, was that he still had a few things to say once they got out of the clinic.

Listen, because I won't say it twice

When Peter found Neal, Neal was high. Which was as odd a sight as Peter thought he'd ever see, considering Neal Caffrey was one of the most healthy criminals he had ever seen. Not only was he naturally in perfect health, he also didn't dabble in anything addicting.

Except coffee and wine, but in considerate quantities.

So, when Peter finally found Neal in the private clinic where Neal wasn't supposed to be, but still was, it was with the unexpected fact that Neal had been strapped on a hostpital bed and drugged, as if he was one of the mental patients.

Which was better than finding him dead, but still.

If a drugged Neal seemed more than able to slip out of his straps, he was also very, very talkative, and it wasn't the moment to be. Peter needed to get Neal out of here before anything happened.

Or, before anyone found them.

Peter Burke did not want to explain why his CI had infiltrated himself into a private clinic they were investigating for organs trafficking, without authorization.

Peter managed to get Neal out of the office he was "held" in, but not quite out of the clinic. At one point, the FBI agent had to go and look for a safe exit. He didn't leave Neal alone for very long, but when he came back, and supported Neal out, his CI seemed to be even more in the mood to "trust" him with some of his secrets. Peter sure hoped it had nothing to do with other heists he had no proof of, because even if Neal wasn't in full control of his capacities, and so his confessions held no value, Peter'd rather keep his plausible deniability.

They finally got out of the clinic, and Peter heaved his almost inconscious CI onto a bench so that he'd be able to call Jones and see if anything else had happened while he was busy with rescuing Neal. Then he'd get his drugged friend back home for him to rest. And after that, when Neal would be there with him, for real, Peter would lecture the man for doing whatever he pleased.

But Neal didn't seem to be on board with that plan, and not nearly half as well on his way to inconciousness as Peter had thought, because the CI tugged at Peter's sleeve as the agent tried to call Jones.

"Wait, Peter... I want to tell you how thankful I am for working with you... And..."

"You'll tell me later, when you are out of it, Neal."

"No! ...When I'm out of it, I won't... want to tell you... because I'm not supposed to, you know."

"You're not supposed to tell me you enjoy working with me?"

Neal hummed and closed his eyes. For a moment, Peter thought he had finally fallen asleep, but no such luck. Peter really needed to ask why Neal was so resistant to the drugs, how he could withstand it for so long, even if he didn't seem to be able to fight it off completely. This wasn't normal, especially not with Neal's backstory.

"...You know, I didn't think it'd be this... fun... to work for my country again..."

Again? What was Neal talking about?

"I mean, really... I loved my work back then too... but there were many times it wasn't fun at all... The guns especially were no fun... And I didn't like being... being shot... Twice... Dying was no fun... I mean, flat line on the monitor and everything... both time, you know, Peter? ...But here, working for the FBI... I won't get shot again... Right, Peter? I won't get killed again..."

Peter was growing increasingly worried. He didn't know if he should believe what Neal was telling him right now, under the influence of drugs, or if it was only something he was making up. Eitherway, the agent didn't like the fact that, be it from memory or from his imagination, Neal was under the feeling he had been shot several times, that he had even died two times.

Perhaps it'd be for the best if Neal just fell asleep now.

Which, obviously, didn't happen, even as Neal came to blink more often, slowly, as if he had a hard time staying awake.

So Peter said the only thing he could think of to calm Neal.

"I promise you I'll keep you alive, Neal."

"...Good..."

And then, because Neal had picked his curiosity, and Peter Burke wasn't working for the Federal Bureau of Investigation for the coffee, the agent eventually relented, and asked Neal what he meant by working for their country once upon a time.

Neal's eyes filled with mirth, and perhaps a bit of nostalgia.

"You're not the only one who's an Agent, Peter, you know! I used to be one, too... But I died... and I died again, and then... done with Agent Larkin... The thing is, you see... The Agency didn't even know they had hired Neal Caffrey... I got into Stanford with a forged ID, Bryce Larkin... Computer engineering, if you'd believe that...! ...And before I knew it, I was recruited by the CIA... and then agent... and then missions... Neal did cons in between Bryce's missions... and then killed, revived by the enemy for information, killed, revived by other enemies for intel once more, and... And that was it, I decided,... no more Bryce... Larkin..."

Peter stared dumbly at his CI as he finally fell asleep. The agent thought he'd decide whether or not he believed Neal's tale later, once he'd have gotten the convict home, in a safer environment, away from that damned private clinic to begin with.

Later, as it turned out, was the next day. Neal came in for work at the right time, looking pristine as always, no trace of yesterday's drugged experience visible. The CI simply walked to his desk, waved good morning to some of the other agents, possibly teased Jones about one thing or another, but Peter couldn't say from behind the glass panel of his office. Neal looked perfectly Caffreyish, down to the big innocent smile that usually spelled trouble.

And Peter couldn't help but think back to this fantastic story Neal had spinned under influence.

Neal Caffrey, CIA agent! Such a story... Or, rather, Bryce Larkin, CIA agent who died twice for the Agency. A tale who surely had allegedly killed more than a few people, put down a good deal of monsters, and endured nameless tortures. Peter really wondered how he could even have thought about Bryce Larkin's reality. Neal was a true storyteller, even while drugged, Peter should have remembered that.

Even if Peter guessed Neal did have a whole array of skills that fell right in a spy's necessary set of skills. Like, assuming any persona he wished. Or picking a lock in less than ten seconds. Or running really fast to get away when things went wrong. Or charming his way in and out of anywhere. Or...

Alright, it didn't seem that impossible for Neal to have been a spy, in another life.

But Neal still lacked the fighting skills, if anything.

Though Peter could guess Neal was fit and healthy. And the truth was, Peter didn't know if the CI could fight or even use a gun, because Neal did his best never to need such skills. Which didn't mean he didn't have them. It neither confirmed, nor denied the existence of fighting skills.

Wasn't that Neal's very nature, not to confirm nor deny anything? To lie the least possible, by evading any question which would require a lie?

Peter squinted at his CI, as the man turned around on his chair and locked eyes with him. Neal grinned, and seemed surprised when Peter's squint didn't turn into a stern frown, as it usually did whenever Neal did grin at his handler like that. Peter was the one to look away.

He had paperwork to finish...

Peter turned to his computer instead, and started a search of Stanford graduates. It couldn't hurt to see if there had been a student named Bryce Larkin around the time Neal would have been the right age for unconspicuous College studies.

If Bryce Larkin's picture looked just like Neal Caffrey, then Peter would start to worry about Neal's tale not being so much of a tale. Not that if there was an alias called Bryce Larkin in Neal's vast list of personalities, it would mean that the CI really had been hired by the CIA at some point...

And yes, there was a Bryce Larkin who had graduated in computer engineering, who looked just like Neal, an accountant who had apparently died in 2007 during a bank robbery, just when Neal should have been in jail, waiting for the end of his sentence. Considering that Peter did know Neal had missed only a few of Kate's visits every week, allegedly because he was "sick"... What kind of pull would the convict need to get out and back in every week, while still working as a bank accountant the rest of the time?

Neal opened the door to Peter's office, and the agent closed the Internet page before the CI saw it.

"Peter, about yesterday... I hope I didn't say anything too weird? I don't exactly remember..."

Peter hesitated, but eventually Neal's past was his to know only. As long as it was nothing criminal.