Day 15! Exactly the halfway point! Today's chapter delay is brought to you by executive dysfunction and time blindness! Yay! Today's chapter summary: An old friend of Neal's meeting up with Neal. He doesn't know about what happened after Neal disappeared a few years ago.

Neal was sitting in Peter's office, not doing work, just generally getting in the way. He didn't have much to do anyway. Peter, meanwhile, was pretending to have quite a lot to do in a futile effort to get Neal away from him. It wasn't working. Therefore, Peter was stuck dealing with Neal staying in the same room. Neal, to his credit, wasn't making a nuisance of himself. He was quiet, mostly stealing files from Peter's desk and reading through them. The system was working.

Suddenly, the stillness was shattered by Neal's phone starting to ring. Both men jumped before Neal fished his phone out of his pocket. He glanced down at the caller ID. There wasn't a name, but he recognized the number. He stood up.

"I have to go take this."

"Go for it," Peter replied, with a nod. Gets him out of my office.

Neal left, going just outside the doors to the unit for something close to privacy. He answered the call. "Hello?"

"Hey! Neal!" an exuberant voice said through the other side. Neal did recognize this voice. And he was never happier to get a phone call. "How ya doin'?"

"Hey, Tony," Neal laughed, a smile already breaking across his face. "What's up?"

"Not much." Tony was similar to Neal, his tone a practiced blase covering the urge to question everything his friend was up to at the moment. "Listen, I'm coming up to New York tomorrow. Wanna meet up, talk about old times?"

Neal laughed. Tony had no idea what had happened since those 'old times.' But, a chat with his old friend would always be nice. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken with Tony face to face. This was the first phone call in over four years. Just hearing his friend's voice was filling Neal with excitement.

"Sure," he answered in the same rehearsed casualness. "Always love talking to you."

"Good. Where are you?"

"Manhattan," Neal said, in a tone that indicated that Tony should have known better. "Where else?"

Tony laughed. "Still the same old Neal. How's your life been going?"

Neal paused. Tony knew a lot about his life. But...he didn't know the important parts. Tony knew Neal was a criminal, knew more details about most of the crimes than the FBI did. Definitely more than Peter did. But Neal hadn't told him what happened after. Tony-no, Neal disappeared from his life, not the other way around. Neal disappeared off to Paris and then back to the States without so much as a by-your-leave. He hadn't contacted Tony, hadn't sent a letter, made an effort to call, nothing. Tony had every right to ask what happened. He didn't know anything about Neal's arrest-probably, it was all over the news-didn't know anything about the sentence-again, probably-and definitely didn't know anything about the probation-slash-parole-slash-work release Neal was currently on.

"Fine," Neal eventually answered. It was a safe answer. He could elaborate more in person. "Fine. Met some people, lost a few." Neal was pretty sure that a random plane exploding would make the news. And if not...he didn't want to get into it.

Tony, thankfully, dropped the subject. "Really the same as always?"

"Yeah," Neal said, nodding despite the fact that he was having a phone conversation. "Really the same as always."

"Sounds like you." Tony always had that blunt way of saying how much he cared. In this case, it was dismissing saying he'd lost loved ones with 'the same as always.' But, this meant that Tony was willing to let Neal cope with it in his own way. "Where do you want to meet up?"

Neal had to think for a minute. There were only so many places he could choose-a two-mile radius tended to do that. But, still, two miles in Manhattan is a lot of places. A park would probably be the safest option. However, conmen didn't tend to like 'safe' options. Neal decided to give the choice to Tony.

"Where's good for you?"

"How about wherever you're staying?" That works. "I'd love to see Moz again. And whoever the 'new' people are."

Neal laughed awkwardly. There was no way in hell he'd let Tony meet Peter. Someone would end up dead or in prison from that conversation. And with Neal's luck, it would be him. "Yeah, sure. That works. Met you...I'll text you."

"That works," was all Tony had to say. "See ya tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Neal confirmed before hanging up.

He took a deep breath and put his phone away. He obviously couldn't tell Peter everything. Upside, tomorrow was a Saturday. No reason for Peter to ask questions at all. Downside, Peter would want to know what happened. Neal mentally catalogued everything he knew about Tony into 'safe to tell an FBI agent' and 'definitely a bad idea.' There was a third category, 'statute of limitations is questionable' which would only come up if he was asked directly. He went back up to Peter's office, immediately retaking his seat.

"So, who was it?" Peter asked.

That was an easy question to ask. "An old friend," Neal answered, managing to be concise, precise, and cryptic in three words.

"Friend of the illegal kind?" Peter probed further.

Neal shook his head. "No, no. Nothing like that." He paused. Tony was a con. An art thief, even. But...Peter didn't need to know. He'd only been involved in small crimes with Neal. And no one was ever convicted of those. Most people didn't even know. "Well...he wasn't involved in my crimes-alleged crimes. But he does know about them. But, nothing about this." Neal gestured between the anklet, Peter, the office, and himself. It was an all-encompassing gesture that conveyed everything and nothing.

Peter got the intended meaning. He raised an eyebrow. "Where are you meeting?"

"What makes you think we're meeting?" Neal asked, immediately suspicious. How much does he need to know?

"You just told me."

Neal looked down at the floor. That was a trick he shouldn't have fallen for. "We're meeting at June's-my apartment. Just talking about old times and what we did between then and now." Neal forced himself to look relaxed. Peter didn't notice the stiffness hiding in his posture.

"Fine," he said. "You're allowed to have friends. Even old ones. As long as you aren't committing more crimes."

Neal laughed. The relaxation became real. "I'm not. He's not that kind of guy."

"All right."

It was Saturday afternoon. Good time for a meetup, Tony thought. A bit early if we were any more clandestine. He looked down to Neal's text. He hadn't sent anything similar to directions-although Manhattan wasn't as mazelike as it could have been. All Neal had sent was an address. 87 Riverside Drive. Looking from his phone to the...mansion in front of him, either he had the wrong house or Neal was doing better for himself than he thought.

"Damn, Neal," he whispered. Tony knocked on the front door. Worst comes to worst, I apologize for the misunderstanding.

Tony heard clattering-no, not clattering, footsteps-inside. Someone descending a staircase and quickly. A brief conversation between a woman and a man. Sounding more like the wrong house. But, he listened more closely and felt like he recognized the voice.

"Don't worry, Mary, I got it." That was Neal. Right place. The front door swung open, revealing Neal in his best definition of casual. Which meant no jacket and a slightly less formal shirt. "Hey, Tony! It's been too long."

Neal pulled Tony into a quick hug. The two broke it off after an appropriate friendly length of time. "Five years, give or take," Tony answered.

"Yeah, just about," Neal laughed. "Come on in." He moved out of the doorway.

Tony took a few steps into the building. Damn, Neal. The house was...opulent, there was no other word for it. Everything looked expensive. This doesn't belong to Neal. There's no way. He caught a glimpse of an older lady. Oh. It's a con. That makes sense. Tony whistled, long and low.

"Wow. How much is this costing you?"

"Seven hundred dollars a month," Neal answered with an unrepentant grin on his face.

Tony gestured to the entire building. "For all this?"

Neal shook his head. "Nah. Just upstairs. This-" he gestured to the room they were standing in "-belongs to June. There's an apartment upstairs. Come on."

The two went upstairs. Tony was still impressed. This was a damn good apartment for seven hundred a month. Goddamn it, Neal. Nice con. He was rapidly assuming that this wasn't a con and was, he shuddered to think it, legitimate. The apartment was huge, easily at least two or three normal Manhattan apartments in size. And this was definitely Neal's space. If he hadn't been told, he would have guessed from the half-finished drawings and art supplies strewn everywhere, as well as the books that Tony knew were Neal's. He bought some of them.

"We're in Manhattan." Tony's tone was flat, asking Neal for more than he was getting.

"Yep."

"Seven hundred a month?" he asked again. "That buys a closet in most of Manhattan."

Neal smiled broadly. "The homeowner-June-she loves me. Says I remind her of her husband."

Tony gave Neal a flat look. Was he conning her? "You're a criminal."

Neal nodded, crossing to the wine rack on the wall. "So was he, apparently." He gestured over his shoulder. "Take a seat. Wine?"

Tony froze. He took a seat in the small (relatively speaking) living area that was arranged. "Sure?"

Neal selected and opened a bottle while Tony was still realizing what belonged to Neal. He was renting this for less than half of normal Manhattan rent. Way less than half. And it wasn't a con. He wasn't lying to anyone to get this. What had Neal been up to?

Neal returned, bearing two glasses of red wine. One of them was passed to Tony. He took it gratefully before glancing over to the still-very full wine rack. Damn. Neal took a seat near enough to Tony before taking a sip of his own wine. Tony reciprocated the motion.

"Nice choice."

Neal smiled. "Thanks. I remember what you like."

"That you do." He took another sip. "So, catch me up. Why'd you drop off the face of the earth? Alex gave me nothing."

Neal was stunned. He was talking to Alex? And she didn't gloat that I got caught? Strange woman, she is. "We'd stopped talking a bit before," he explained. "Um...I was arrested."

Blunt. To the point. Very not Neal. "What?" Tony asked, dumbstruck.

"Didn't you see the news?" was Neal's only response, lounging further in his chair. "Front page."

"No way you were front page news." And they'd slipped back into the banter both of them had sorely missed for years.

Neal took a sip of his wine. "Oh, ye of little faith. I'm in a criminology syllabus." Neal sounded inordinately proud of himself. Tony rolled his eyes.

"That's what your head needed, something to blow it up."

Neal kicked at him. He missed, but the gesture was appreciated. They were inseparable, like brothers. And then Neal had deserted him. Although, Tony was coming to realize, Neal didn't voluntarily desert him.

"Shut up," Neal said with no real passion in his voice.

Tony laughed. "Anything else you wanna tell me? Like what happened after you were arrested?"

Neal shrugged. "I was sentenced to four years in prison. Supermax, actually. Said I was a flight risk."

"Don't know where they got that idea," Tony muttered into his wine.

"Oh, shut up." Neal readjusted his grip on his glass and continued. "Served most of it, escaped because of Kate." A gulp of wine that was nearly half the glass. "Got sentenced to four more, talked my way into a release deal with the FBI."

Neal reached down and pulled up the left leg of his pants, revealing the ankle monitor. Tony stared then looked back at Neal's face. Of all the people he could think of that would arrange something like that, Neal was pretty low on the list. Although, to be fair, most of the reason he was so low was Mozzie's paranoia of all 'suits.' But, still Neal?

"That brings us up to now," Neal concluded. Or, at least, all the major beats. And I don't want to get into the details.

"Wow," was Tony's only response. Neal dropped his pants leg back down. "Wow. And I thought my life was interesting." Neal laughed loudly. Spending time with Tony was always good stress relief. "Been up to anything else?"

"Oh, you have no idea!"

The two talked for hours upon hours about their various adventures, both past and present. It was like they'd never spent a moment away. And, if several bottles of wine and about seven hours of conversation in, one or both of the conmen broke into tears, nothing was mentioned. They deserved the catharsis. And it was always better to cry with someone.

"So, how was meeting with your friend?" Peter asked as soon as he saw Neal on Monday.

Neal smiled like a Cheshire Cat. "Best time I've had in years."

"Good friend?"

"The best," Neal affirmed with a nod. "Reminds me of you."

"Oh?"

"In the good way."

Peter wasn't sure what 'the good way' was, and he sure as hell wasn't going to ask.

I hope you enjoyed today's entry; please don't hesitate to leave a review if you especially liked it! NaNoWriMo writers: we have made it halfway! The end is in sight!