Chapter 1: On the Terrace
Columbia University. Monday, February 6, 2006.
Meet me at Dream Midtown. PHD Terrace. 8pm
Neal absently refolded the pink origami paper into its original tulip shape. He'd found it in his overcoat pocket when he arrived home from work. Only one person he knew of left messages for him in origami flowers—Alex.
He'd taken the subway home. Most likely she'd slipped it to him when he was waiting on the tracks. It would have been easy to escape detection in the crush of commuters.
He'd first met Alex when he was on a job for Klaus in Athens. They'd hooked up on a few occasions but neither one was serious about the other. The last time Neal saw her, he was working for Adler and sighing over Kate who was dating someone else. Alex had done her best to distract him. No baggage, no commitments—that was Alex.
She went to considerable effort to research him. She knew where he worked, what subway he took. She also had likely discovered that he was living in June's mansion. But she probably didn't know about Sara, who was currently working in London. Last autumn when Sara lived in New York, they'd kept their dates a secret.
The Dream Midtown was a hotel in the theater district. The bar Alex referred to was a popular two-story lounge on the top floors. Had she picked the venue as a sly reference to the fact that she knew about his status at Columbia or was she dreaming about a score? He had no plans for that evening. Neal smiled as he slipped on a cashmere turtleneck. He'd know soon enough.
Snow flurries had started in the afternoon and were continuing in the evening. When Neal arrived, the lounge was packed with patrons enjoying the Manhattan snowscape.
He ambled up to the bar and ordered a glass of Chardonnay. It didn't take long for him to hear a familiar sultry voice in his ear. "It's been too long, Caffrey."
He turned his head to see Alex in a slinky tunic and leggings. The striking elliptical silver and gold pendant she wore around her neck appeared Greek in design.
"Good to see you, Alex. What brings you to my neck of the woods?"
She set her martini down on the counter. "What else? Dreams, of course." She dropped her voice. "Are you going to make mine come true?"
He could play along. "What do you have in mind?" he asked, also lowering his voice.
"Something that will enable us to realize our dreams for a long time to come. Worth a few minutes of your time?"
"You're worth much more than that," he said gallantly. Alex didn't divulge any specifics but restricted herself to light banter. Neal bided his time, waiting till they were able to grab a booth by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Times Square.
"Much as I appreciate your concern for my happiness, this is a little unexpected," he said, keeping his tone friendly as they settled into their niche. Alex preferred to work alone, and altruism had never been her strong suit. "Since when have you been working this side of the Atlantic?"
"If I'd known you'd joined the feds, I might not have bothered. I never expected you'd become one of their drones."
He shrugged. "They made me an offer I couldn't refuse."
"Meaning if you didn't cooperate, they'd throw you in prison?"
"They can be very persuasive." He'd rather not lie, instead letting her make assumptions based on the Neal Caffrey she knew.
She scowled as she nodded. "You were on the verge of losing control under Adler. I was worried then that you'd self-destruct. So you've really gone legit?"
He shrugged. "So it seems."
"I'd heard rumors you haven't retired."
He raised a cocky eyebrow. "I'm a little young to think about retiring."
Her eyes lit up. "That's what I thought." She leaned toward him and whispered silkily. "Do you have time to help an old friend?"
"I haven't lost my fondness for extracurricular activities." The old Neal Caffrey wouldn't have blinked twice about joining her in a job. "Do you have something to propose?"
"We never visited the Frick Collection. Perhaps you'd care to accompany me."
He hadn't visited any museums with Alex. She preferred to target homes and small art galleries. If she wanted to steal a museum painting, it could explain why she was reaching out to him, but not why she was changing her tactics. "Why not the Guggenheim or Museum of Modern Art? The Frick Collection is predominantly Old Masters. In the past, they didn't hold much appeal for you."
"Tastes change."
He didn't say anything but waited for her to cough up more of a reason. He was in no hurry to leave, and she was the one who wanted something from him.
She drained her martini glass and placed it on the table. "You're not the only one who receives offers you can't refuse. A client insists I visit the Frick."
"You may wish to reconsider. Speaking as your friend, the art museums in New York have become much more secure over the past few years. I should know. The team I work with designed many of the measures." Assuming she intended to ask his help on a job, his caution would serve to make his assistance even more valuable. But his primary objective was to warn her off. Neal liked Alex. Her moral compass was unreliable but she had a good heart, and he'd rather not be responsible for her arrest.
"This is your chance to stick it to them," she said, blowing his caution away, "and I guarantee you'll be rewarded handsomely for your efforts."
He fingered the stem of his wine glass as if he was considering her proposition, and he was. There were a few options on how to play it.
"I'm doing you a favor," she added. "I could do the job alone but I thought you'd like the distraction."
"From what?"
She took a breath, casting him a sympathetic look. "It can't be easy for you, what with Kate in prison. Have you seen her?"
He gave a short, brittle laugh. "How could I explain to my handler that I need to go to Paris to see my criminal girlfriend?" Kate's trial had ended a month ago. She'd been tried as an accomplice of Vincent Adler in Neal and Henry's kidnapping cases. Adler's trial had been written about extensively in the papers. It wasn't a surprise that Alex had heard about it.
She reached over to clasp his hand. "The beds in this hotel are extremely comfortable. We could take this conversation upstairs." She cocked her head to smile at him. "No pressure, no commitments?"
"Thanks but you shouldn't have to settle for a guy who's still wallowing." Let her think he was still grieving over Kate. It was the simplest solution.
"If you change your mind, let me know."
He smiled at her. "I'm tempted. I haven't forgotten our times together. I think they meant more to me than you."
She shrugged. "Nothing wrong with casual sex."
"Nothing at all." He took a sip of his wine. "Who's your client?" She'd said she'd make his dreams come true. It was a reasonable question under the circumstances.
"Sorry, Neal. If I told you, what's to prevent you from making a deal behind my back?"
"I don't double-cross my friends."
"Nor do I," she snapped. Had he brought up a sensitive subject? For her to be so defensive, either someone had accused her of precisely that or she was waging an internal debate about it.
"There are some clients I refuse to work for," Neal said shortly. "If you want my help, you'll have to give me a name." Alex must have convinced herself that she needed him. He could afford to be persistent.
"All right, as a sign of good faith, I'll let you in." She leaned closer and murmured. "Ryan Wilkes." When he grimaced, she added, "Don't look at me that way." Her self-confident mask finally dropped. "You know I wouldn't work for that scumbag unless I didn't have a choice. Now you understand what I mean when I said he gave me an offer I couldn't refuse."
He nodded. Because the consequences would be far deadlier than prison.
#
Neal, what are you doing?
Sara took a sip of her Singapore Smash and considered her options. There was no chance Neal would recognize her, not with her black square-cut wig and bangs. She was disguised in what she liked to call her Thai-assassin look. She still didn't have conclusive evidence that Alex had the jewels, but the way her luck was running, it was inevitable.
Alex was her lead suspect in the burglary of a house in Surrey. Only the best pieces were lifted from the jewelry collection of the wife of a real estate magnate. The security system had been bypassed and no evidence was left at the scene, but Sara had found Alex's image recorded on security footage taken at a petrol station a day before the heist.
For the briefest of instants, she'd regretted searching the Interpol database to learn about Alex. That was back in the fall when Henry believed Neal was dating the thief. If she hadn't researched Alex, she wouldn't have known who the woman was. Sara inwardly cringed. She should be delighted. This was her job. Catching thieves, no matter who they were.
She and Neal knew this type of situation would arise sooner or later. They'd already agreed that they couldn't grant exceptions for personal friends. Except Mozzie, of course. And he was too smart to be caught.
When Sara discovered Alex had taken a plane to New York, her heart thudded to her feet. Alex didn't work in the States. Why was she going to Neal's hometown? Sara tried to convince herself it was simply a coincidence, but her heart refused to be swayed. She didn't want to take a chance that another investigator would misread the situation. Last spring, Kramer had flagged Neal's name as a person of interest for the theft of the Raphael painting. Neal's record had been corrected but the U.S. investigators could have residual doubts about him.
Alex was out when Sara arrived at the hotel. She breathed easier after discovering Alex had used her own name to register. Perhaps the purpose of her visit was completely above board. Or was she was so cocky, she didn't think an alias was necessary?
Sara had staked out the hotel lobby and was there to see Alex return at six in the evening. Since then Sara had been monitoring her movements. She tailed her to the cocktail lounge and appropriated a corner table from where she could view the entire lounge. Never had she been so glad she hadn't told Neal about her Thai-assassin disguise.
Now what? Was this an innocent meeting between two friends? Did Neal know about the jewelry? Was there some other motive? Sara ducked her head when they stood up and buried herself in her paperback. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched them approach the exit.
Really, Alex? Did you have to kiss Neal? And did Neal feel it was essential to linger over it?
Damn. Damn. Damn.
#
Peter was fifteen minutes late for the morning briefing. By the time he entered the conference room, Jones, Travis, and Diana were already there. Peter was surprised that Neal, aka Mr. Punctuality, wasn't present. But that conundrum took a backseat to puzzling over the guilty look flashing across Diana's face when she spotted Peter.
Travis and Jones were standing beside her. They'd been engaged in an animated conversation but as soon as he stepped into the room, they clammed up as if a switch had been flicked.
"Don't let me interrupt you," Peter said calmly. "I'll give Neal a couple more minutes before starting the meeting." He took his seat and placed his folder in front of him as the others took their places. Since no one spoke up, he added, "Anything you'd like to share?"
Jones cleared his throat. "We were just discussing the chapter Diana posted yesterday. Wondered what your thoughts were."
At that point, Diana skewered Jones with a laser beam from her eyes. Peter's second-in-command was lucky he wasn't sitting next to her or he might have gotten punched. Peter hadn't read the posted version of the second chapter of Standing Stones. "Were there revisions that weren't in the summary Tricia gave me?"
"Nothing major," Diana said quickly.
"I wouldn't call them insignificant," Travis remarked. The team's tech expert was a stickler for precise language. "The ramifications to the storyline will likely be profound."
"You're not talking about Mozzie and Lavinia, are you?" Peter asked.
"That's it!" Diana said triumphantly.
"But that was already foreshadowed." Peter exaggerated his puzzlement. Diana was seldom flustered by anything, but something had her going.
She took a short breath. "My co-writer made some additional tweaks. You know how impossible Mozzie is to control. He'd probably sue me if I attempted to change anything he wrote."
"What did he add?"
"Look who arrived!" The relief on Diana's face was painfully obvious. "You better have a good reason for making us wait, Caffrey."
Peter was distracted by a new puzzle when Neal didn't respond with a quip to her jab. "Sorry I'm late," he said absently and took a seat next to Travis. Neal's current assignment was a routine copyright infringement case—not the type of work that would cause him to lose track of time.
"Something come up?" Jones asked. Smart man, he'd also noticed Neal's atypical behavior.
"Do you know who Ryan Wilkes is?" Neal asked, scanning the group.
Diana was the only one who shook her head.
"Wilkes engages in white-collar crimes," Peter explained. "He's one of the nastier criminals on the loose. He's a suspect in several cases involving assault, but has managed to elude capture." He turned to Neal. "I believe you have a personal history with him."
"Didn't you include him in your confession when you joined the Bureau?" Jones asked.
Neal nodded. "I did a couple of jobs for him till I discovered how he operates. The man has anger management issues. He uses fear, intimidation, and physical violence to achieve his objectives. He's also very savvy." Neal grimaced. "As Exhibit A, I point out that he's never been charged with a crime and is still at large."
"Did he approach you?" Peter demanded, bile rising in his throat.
"No, but he's coercing a friend of mine. She contacted me yesterday evening. I believe you're familiar with the name Alex Hunter?"
"The thief Henry thought you were dating last fall?" Travis asked.
"That's the one."
"What does she want from you?" Peter asked, his gut easing off. So far so good. Neal was addressing the issue head-on.
"Nothing much." When Neal smiled, his familiar confident expression resurfaced. "Alex wants my help in stealing a painting from the Frick." Neal went on to explain what took place the previous evening. "She double-crossed Wilkes during a job in Vienna. She managed to cast suspicion on someone else and thought she'd escaped scot-free, but he discovered her duplicity and is demanding the painting as payment."
"Which painting is it?" Jones asked.
"I don't know. She wants to meet me at the Frick today during the lunch hour. I expect to find out then. The Frick is full of treasures by the Old Masters—works by El Greco, Holbein, Vermeer, Renoir, and Rembrandt. How do you want me to play it?"
"Does she realize the extent of danger she's in?" Peter asked.
"Yeah, underneath that cocky exterior she's in a panic. She could provide the means for us to capture Wilkes."
"How would Wilkes react if he found out you were working with Alex?" Travis asked.
Neal was quiet for a moment. "At first, he'd probably welcome me with open arms. Later, as soon as he got the painting, he'd try to teach both me and Alex a lesson to never cross him again. I walked away during a job when I couldn't stomach his methods. He undoubtedly viewed my action as a betrayal."
In other words, he'd turn on Neal in a heartbeat. Given the man's record of violence, shielding Neal would be a difficult challenge. Peter tabled his concerns for further reflection, recognizing it accomplished little to bring them up without having a proposal to make. "Do you think you could persuade Alex to work with us?"
Neal's lips tightened. "There's a chance but we don't have much leverage with her. She could decide to approach someone else for the job. I may be able to trick her, but Alex is clever. She knows I work for the Bureau. She seemed to accept my cover that I was coerced to work for you, but she'll be on the alert. Deceiving both her and Wilkes won't be easy."
For Neal to admit the high degree of difficulty spoke volumes. In the end, Peter decided to sanction Neal meeting Alex at the Frick, but not before he'd had a chance to speak with Neal privately in his office.
"I don't like it," Peter said after closing the door. "Alex is your friend. How will you maintain your objectivity?"
He winced. "That's where I'll count on you. Before she told me about Wilkes's involvement, I did my best to dissuade her from the theft. I couldn't tell her much, though, without blowing my cover."
"Will you be able to live with yourself when you con her?" Peter asked bluntly.
He shrugged. "I'll have to. At a minimum, we can prevent a heist. If I work with Alex, perhaps I can discover a way to make her believe she needs to cooperate with us for her own good. For instance, I could tell her she was photographed at the Frick. She's on a list of suspected thieves, and our team was ordered to investigate her. If she thinks she'll be arrested, she'll be more willing to cooperate."
"She could also think you sold her out."
"Yeah, I know." He didn't say anything for a moment studying his hands unhappily. "When I signed the FBI contract, I knew this sort of situation would arise. But if she hadn't come to me, she might have tried to partner with someone else. The results could be worse, especially if she's unable to satisfy Wilkes's demand. She wouldn't view it this way, but I think I'm acting in her best interest."
Peter liked what he heard, but he also knew Neal tended to minimize the potential harm he'd suffer. Peter had the uneasy feeling that he and Neal both would have to deal with the fallout.
#
Not the Fragonard Room. Please not the Fragonard Room.
Sara moaned to herself when Alex linked arms with Neal and strolled inside the chamber dedicated to the Progress of Love, a series of large paintings by the French Rococo artist Jean-Honoré Fragonard. Sara's progress of love was in danger of falling over the precipice.
She'd spent a sleepless night, agonizing over how to handle the complication Neal had introduced. The only saving grace was that he wasn't expecting a call from her. She'd told him a few days ago she'd be working on a case and would probably be out of contact. She'd hoped her caution would be unnecessary, but fate ruled otherwise.
With Alex, Neal's emotions were bound to be mixed. Besides, last night could have been entirely innocent. Even if Alex was in town to fence the jewelry, Neal wasn't necessarily involved.
Right.
Sara heaved a deep sigh that only someone who was in love with Neal would appreciate. Alex hadn't met with Mozzie to her knowledge. But with Sara's luck, she surely would, making the issues doubly complicated.
Sara was wearing her English-professor-on-a-holiday look. Sensible brogues, short iron-gray hair, corduroy slacks, tweed jacket, and glasses. If she didn't do something quick, she'd run out of disguises. She still hadn't ascertained if Alex had the jewelry. Under normal circumstances, she'd contact the New York office for backup. She was violating company policy by not having contacted them immediately upon arrival.
She ducked her head and studied a copy of the museum map as Neal and Alex walked past her. At least, Alex hadn't kissed him this time . . . yet.
Sara waited a minute before following them. There was enough of a midday crowd that she should be inconspicuous. After spending about five minutes in the gallery, they headed for the main entrance.
Sara watched as Neal helped Alex get a taxi then turned in the direction of the subway station. Just a wave. No outward display of affection. Small comfort.
What now? After agonizing for a few more seconds, Sara looked at her dilemma from another angle. If Diana or Jones had met with Alex, would she hesitate over what to do? She was in love with Neal, and he was with her. Didn't he deserve the same treatment? Did she trust him or didn't she?
#
"Hello, Neal."
"Sara!" He'd recognize that sultry whisper anywhere. He spun around and did a double-take. "Fetching new look for you."
"Isn't it though," she said, striking a pose. "I assume you didn't notice me at the Frick."
Neal's heart dropped. Crap. She must have seen him with Alex. "That case you're working on wouldn't happen to concern Alex Hunter?"
She nodded. "Neal, we need to talk."
"Let's do it at the Bureau. I'm also working on a case involving Alex. We may be able to help each other."
Her smile lit up the sky. "I was hoping we could."
How long had she been following Alex? Did she worry that he was cheating on both her and the Bureau? What if Peter had been out of the office and the briefing had been delayed till the afternoon? Neal might have gone ahead and met with Alex, assuming that he'd tell the others this afternoon. Would Sara have believed him that he intended to inform the team? Neal's stomach gave an unsettling lurch.
"When did you arrive in New York?" he asked, dragging his mind out of the morass of what-ifs.
"Yesterday."
"That's the day Alex contacted me." Neal figured he better go ahead and relate the entire story upfront, and when he heard that Sara had been monitoring him and Alex in the lounge as well, he felt like he'd just piloted the Titanic around the iceberg. The inevitable disaster he and Sara both feared would sink their relationship had been avoided by mere inches.
Notes: Neal has that conversation with Alex in next week's chapter. He'll also need to persuade a reluctant Mozzie to go along with the scheme. I've included some resource links about the paintings mentioned in the chapter in my latest blog post, "Backdrop to Progress of Love."
This is Alex's first time to have a speaking part in Caffrey Conversation, and she hopes it's not her last. Sara probably has a different view on the subject. I enjoyed planting Easter eggs to canon scenes featuring Alex, including an origami tulip and Sara catching Neal and Alex exchanging a kiss. In case you'd like to review canon moments of Neal and Alex, I added a fun fanvid of them to the Progress of Love Pinterest board.
In 2022, I revisited this story and expanded the content. As a result, some of the reviews no longer match the chapter references.
Visuals and Music: The Progress of Love board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website
Blog: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation
Background on the Caffrey Conversation AU for new readers: The series was created by Penna Nomen and begins with her story Caffrey Conversation. Our blog has a list and short summaries for all the stories. The primary difference from canon is that Neal was never sent to prison and the characters are several years younger. The personalities of canon characters (Elizabeth, Mozzie, Diana, Jones, Hughes, June, and Sara) are the same. Peter recruited Neal in 2003 when he was 24. In the fall of 2004, he entered Columbia University's graduate program in art as a part-time student. Working with the White Collar team are two non-canon characters: Travis Miller, a technical expert, and Tricia Wiese, a profiler.