Day 21 of NaNoWriMo! And, to the Americans in the audience, almost Thanksgiving. Today's chapter summary: Neal and Peter having a joking argument. Neal loses.


As far as Neal was concerned, everything was perfect. And, for once, the FBI perspective agreed. Everything was good. The case had been closed with surprisingly little trouble for how the unit had been working recently. After just a little standard investigation and incredibly basic digging, the suspected (and most likely guilty) art forger hadn't even bothered fighting against his arrest, verbally or physically. It was strange. But no one was willing to complain. Except...

"So, Neal," Peter started. "About that case."

Neal shrugged. "What about it?" The only reason he was with Peter right now was he had been offered dinner by El and nobody could say no to her. He was hoping to leave work at work. And, naturally, he would never be that lucky.

"How'd you solve it so fast?" Peter was legitimately curious. It was a good question. Neal had too much information too quickly for it to have been entirely legal.

Neal shrugged again. "Instinct."

"Instinct."

"Yeah." Neal brushed his hair out of his face. "You rely on gut feelings, I rely on instinct." He hesitated for a second. "And street contacts, but they didn't work this time."

Peter gave a small laugh at that last comment. "Really? Your street contacts-and I know who they are-always have something."

"Well, it's a good thing you know who they are, because I don't."

Peter was confused. The only street contact Peter knew about was the little guy, Dante Haversham. Although he wasn't entirely sure that was his name, but he'd keep going with it until evidence pointed in another direction. But Neal just said that he didn't know his street contacts. Contact implies knowing them. That's weird.

"You don't know your own contacts?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

Neal shook his head, like it was the most natural thing in the world to rely on rumor from people you don't know the names of. "Nope. They're Mozzie's contacts. He's the liaison."

"You have a liaison?"

Neal shrugged for a third time. "I'm your liaison," he pointed out. Before Peter could object, he explained. "Between Mozzie and more legal means of solving crimes. Mozzie's my liaison between street contacts and me." Because I don't really want to go back to prison remained unsaid.

"Alright," Peter slowly acknowledged. He guessed it made sense. Neal, definitely a liaison between both sides of the law. So, Neal's logic reluctantly made sense. "So you're telling me they didn't find anything on the black market about a, from my understanding, very expensive painting?"

"Nope. Found nothing." Neal huffed. "And Mozzie knows how to look."

"So, you solved an entire case on 'instinct?'" Peter was skeptical about that claim.

"Yep," Neal affirmed. "Pretty much."

Peter had a question that needed an answer, but he wasn't sure if he wanted that answer. "What does 'instinct' mean?" he asked, cautiously. Neal hesitated for just long enough for suspicion to grow in Peter's mind. "Don't mean it's what you would do."

"It doesn't," Neal confirmed.

That's good. It means there isn't another crime to investigate with the name Neal Caffrey. "So-"

Neal cut him off. "It's what I did do."

And there went that hope. And another crime to connect the name Neal Caffrey to. Peter just stared at Neal. It showed how shocked Neal was that he didn't immediately reprimand 'eyes!' at Peter's attention going away from the road. Neal stared at Peter's face. He couldn't immediately read the expression. It was shock, panic, or irritation. He couldn't tell which.

"In the past, in the past!" Neal immediately clarified, entirely unhelpfully. "Past the statute of limitations, I swear!"

"That's not a good defense!" Peter was incredulous. If that was the best argument Neal had, 'I can't be arrested for it,' there were problems.

"No, but it means you can't arrest me."

Unfortunately, Peter had to admit he was correct. "That's true."

"And the case we just had is closed."

"Also true."

Neal beamed and crossed his arms. "So I don't see the problem."

"There isn't really a problem with you using instinct to help us solve a case," Peter said, in a tone that sounded unfortunately like a lecture. "The problem is that you committed a crime in front of me." Yep, definitely a lecture.

"I didn't!" Neal immediately refuted. Peter gave him a look. "This time. I just admitted to one."

"Then the problem is that you admitted to a crime in front of me."

"Not like you can do anything," Neal pointed out, annoyingly reasonably. "Past the statute of limitations. And, also, there's no evidence except a confession."

"That..." Peter tried to find a counterargument. He couldn't. Neal was right. All he had was a confession about the fact that he had committed a similar crime at some point. And an expired statute of limitations. If Peter was so inclined, he could look up and cross-reference crimes until he deduced where and what the crime was and how much Neal got away with. But he couldn't do anything with it. And he was forced to admit that to Neal. "Yeah, you have a point."

"Anything else?" Neal asked. He was ready for this conversation to be done with.

"Yeah. What haven't you solved with conman instincts?"

Neal hesitated again. "Um...well, I'm not sure." Peter gave him another strange look. Neal helpfully clarified. "What you call 'conman instinct' is hard to separate from all the other instincts I developed."

"Do I want to know what those are?" Peter asked. He probably didn't. But he'd already asked.

And Neal was already answering. "Art thief instinct, artist instinct, forger, on the run, being followed, conman, liar, needing something, and that's just the ones I can think of off the top of my head."

Peter was right. He didn't want to know. "And there's not a crossover between them?"

Neal shook his head. "No, there's plenty of crossover. Art thief, artist, and forger tend to overlap when I look at particularly nice paintings. Being followed and on the run are practically the same, but there are slight differences."

Peter cut him off before Neal could keep unhelpfully babbling. "Have you ever properly thought out a plan in your life?"

Neal hesitated. "I...um...I'm not sure," he stammered out. "I am pretty impulsive."

Can't disagree. Peter figured out his best strategy: ask about specific crimes he knew about. "You managed to steal the Mona Lisa."

"I did," Neal admitted with a nod. "And Kate made the plan."

"The Antioch manuscripts." Sounds like a Neal plan. Didn't he say something about pigeons?

"Allegedly," spilled out of Neal's mouth before he answered the question. "And Mozzie's plan."

Which is it, Neal? Allegedly or Mozzie made the plan? Peter decided to drop it. "The Hope Diamond."

"Alex's. And returned within the week. Unadulterated."

I wasn't wondering. Peter pulled out his trump card: the one plan he knew Neal had made for himself. "The music box."

Neal winced, his face contorting into a grotesque image of pain and regret. "That one...that one was my plan."

Peter caught the reaction out of the corner of his eye. Now why did he...oh. Right. "Sorry. I forgot about...that."

Neal shook his head and took a deep breath. "I...I'll be fine." He ran a hand through his hair and tried to turn the subject of his thoughts. It wasn't working. An awkward silence fell over the inside of the car. Neal, as usual, was the one to break it. "But, see? All the good plans aren't mine." And that sentence didn't hurt Neal at all. Absolutely fine. "I'm the instinct person, the one who does things when everything's already gone to hell."

"Sure," Peter agreed with a nod. Better to change the subject once he's already done it. "And is that how the FBI usually works?"

Neal opened his mouth and closed it several times, managing only to look like a befuddled goldfish. "Yeah," he concluded lamely. "Usually."

"Seems pretty orderly most of the time."

"Okay. You might have a point here." But Neal was smiling, so that was good enough for Peter to take.

"Not gonna argue against it?"

Neal shrugged. "I can't always come up with witty comebacks."


I do hope you enjoyed; if you particularly enjoyed it, feel free to review. I love everyone who's still reading and especially thank MarJan53 for their continued comments. Thank you for bringing joy into my day! To the NaNoWriMo writers: even if you aren't happy with your work, I am, even without reading it. I'm sure everything sounds wonderful to someone who hasn't spent the last month staring at it.