A/N: Shauna's episodes will continue in a series of one-shots as long as my addiction to White Collar lasts, which will probably be until the show ends, which will hopefully be never. Rated T just in case. Neal, Peter, and the rest of the gang (including a couple of quotes) do not belong to me, but to the brilliant writers of a brilliant show.

This episode has spoilers through Season 2 Episode 1. [SPOILERS BEGIN NOW] It doesn't have a definite time-frame, but I we can say it takes place after the S2E1 for clarity's sake. If, of course, during the show Neal had a sixteen-year-old sister named Shauna Caffrey. :)

"Thanks for coming."

"No problem." Shauna sat down on the bench, scoping out the surroundings. "Why couldn't we meet at the office?"

"Thought you might be more comfortable here." Peter lowered his newspaper.

"In the open? Not really, no." She scanned as much as she could of the perimeter without turning around and looking suspicious. "Way too visible."

"This is where your friend, the lawyer, Havershem..."

"Mozzie?"

"Havershem," repeated Peter, with emphasis, "wanted to meet me."

Shauna surveyed her surroundings again. It had plenty of escape routes. Mozzie was a fan of escape routes. And there were no cameras. Again, Mozzie was a fan. "Well, there are plenty of people around, which means you can't pull anything."

"Why am I the one always expected to pull something? I don't have a history of pulling anything." Peter tipped his head back to the sky. "You're always expecting me to con you. That's not me. That's Neal."

"Neal's never lied to Mozzie. Or to me." True, as far as Shauna knew. Which could just mean that Neal was just proving himself an exceptional liar, yet again. You couldn't quite trust Neal, not even when you were his sister.

But you could never trust a suit, not even when he was your friend. Shauna replayed the last few seconds in her mind. "You met with Mozzie?"

"Right here on this bench. Actually, he was on that bench, and I was on this bench. I don't think we fooled anybody." Peter rolled his eyes.

"You met with Mozzie? How'd you swing that?" Mozzie meeting with a suit was in the same collection as flying pigs and blue moons and hell freezing over.

"Called him."

"You have his number?"

"Got it from Neal."

Shauna narrowed her eyes and waited.

Peter sighed. "Fine. I got it from Neal's phone. He's in FBI custody, Shauna. His rights are few and far between. It's not something I'd need a warrant for."

"And you wonder why we expect you to pull something." She crossed her arms over her chest and made a mental note to tell Neal to clear his address book. Not that he had many numbers. She and Mozzie had always been on speed dial, and Peter had been recently added, but every other number that Neal would ever need was in his head. He didn't leave a paper trail. He didn't have to. "So why did you meet with Mozzie?"

"Wanted to ask him about Neal."

"You're investigating Neal?"

"It's not like that, Shauna. Calm down."

She crossed her arms over her chest and considered calming down. She liked Burke, she really did. But Burke was stealing Neal's phone. To call Mozzie. Who had met with him. Here, on this bench. "What do you want to know about Neal?"

"I'm worried about him."

She let the statement hang in the air, turned it over in her head, inspected it. Peter was worried. Peter was worried, because Peter was Neal's friend. He'd proved it, over and over and over again. And if he was stealing information off of people's phones, he had a good reason for it: he was worried. Shauna pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned against the corner of the bench. "You're not the only one."

"So he's not okay."

Shauna shrugged. "He's functioning. Kate was like, his life."

"I've noticed." Peter's voice was dry.

"So the explosion messed him up. Don't you think you'd be freaking out if something like that happened to Elizabeth?"

"So he's freaking out?"

Shauna pressed her palms against her eyes, ran her fingers up through her hair. She should have known better than to let an FBI Agent ask her questions. They knew how to interrogate. "I didn't say that."

"But it's true."

"But I didn't say it." She paused. "He's lost a lot of people in his life, Burke. It's why he doesn't trust them."

"They don't trust him." He raised his eyebrows.

"Because he doesn't let them. When you live a lie, no one knows enough about you to be your friend."

"Sounds about right," said Peter after a moment. He stared straight ahead, at the fountain. "But no one can live a lie forever, Shauna. Right now, Neal's trying to convince me that he's fine, that life is good, that he's a model citizen and has absolutely no plans to do anything stupid."

Shauna pressed her lips together, kept her face unreadable. If going after the music box was stupid—and she was sure Burke would think it was—Neal definitely had plans. And he was as much a model citizen as he was trustworthy.

When Peter didn't get an answer, he said gently, "I'm worried about what's going to happen when that facade blows up in his face. Because it will, Shauna. You know it will."

"I know." Her voice was soft. Oh, she knew. It had happened before. It would happen again.

"Just don't let him do anything stupid."

"So now I'm my brother's keeper?" She turned on Burke, her hands clenched into fists, then caught herself and pulled back. "I can't not let him do anything! And if I tried—and I would fail—he'd never trust me again. I can't give that up, not even for you."

"Not for me, for him."

"Not even for him." It sounded selfish to say it, that she wanted Neal's truths more than she wanted him safe. But it was true. She stood up. "I'm sorry."

Peter laid the newspaper aside and stood up beside her. "Then at least keep me updated. Give me a chance to stop him."

Everything in her screamed that she should turn him down. Tell him no and walk away. If she betrayed Neal's plans to Burke, Neal would never trust her again. But then, Neal might be in prison, or even dead, and it wouldn't matter if he trusted her or not. She took a deep breath. "I'll give you a chance."

"Thanks, Shauna."

"Don't mention it." She started walking away, her back to Peter. Furious with herself, furious with the FBI, most furious of all with Neal.

"It will turn out all right."

She stopped, turned on her heel. "I said don't mention it. Ever."

He nodded once to show that he understood.

And Shauna walked away, feeling like she should have thirty pieces of silver in her pocket.