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 5. [BEGIN SPOILERS] Takes place at the very end of the episode, while Neal and Sara are at Sara's house and Peter discovers that the assassin is loose and after Sara. I created a second assassin to be after Neal, though, and I also decided that Neal stole Peter's car...not just a random one. If, of course, during the show Neal had a sixteen-year-old sister named Shauna Caffrey. :)

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"I'm going to be late. I'm driving Sara home." Neal's voice crackled in the phone.

Shauna pressed her phone to her ear and looked at Mozzie, who reclined on the couch. "You're driving?"

Mozzie opened his eyes, raised his half-filled wine glass in a salute. "I tried to tell him."

"You don't drive, Neal," said Shauna. Which wasn't quite true. He did drive. He just didn't drive well.

"I'll be fine, don't worry."

"Famous last words."

"Not for me." His voice grew muffled, and she could imagine him cupping his hand over the phone. "I've got to get that package, Shauna."

"She has a gun..."

"I'm not stupid." The muffling went away, and Shauna could hear Sara's voice in the background. "I'll talk to you later, sis."

"Sis?" But he had already hung up.

Shauna looked at Mozzie. "This better not have been your idea."

"I tried to talk him out of it," said Mozzie. He sat up. "It's not my fault he isn't exactly prone to listening."

"Hope he gets her to her house in one piece," said Shauna. She stared at the wine in Mozzie's hand. "How many of those have you had?"

He shrugged. "Enough to merit Neal's displeasure when he returns, I'm sure."

Shauna's phone vibrated in her pocket, preventing her from a snappy reply. Peter? "Hello?"

"Where's Neal?"

"Um, he..." He stole your car to take Sara Ellis home so that he could steal a package—a package addressed to her from the FAA—containing a copy of the cockpit recordings of the plane that exploded and killed Kate? No. Wrong answer. "He's, um..."

"Is he there? Can I talk to him?"

"No, he's not here. Can't you check his anklet?"

"I'll call them next. Listen to me, Shauna. You knew how we told Halbridge that Sara wasn't dead, that she was working with Neal?"

"Yeah..."

"We just arrested Halbridge, but Black isn't here. Went to finish the job, Nico said."

"Sucks to be Sara," was what slipped out of Shauna's mouth. She winced. Not exactly what she'd meant to say, not with Peter on the other end of the line.

Peter paused, but he didn't get angry. "We think there's another assassin."

It was amazing how quickly Shauna could switch to defense mode. Door? Locked. French doors? Swinging open to let the breeze indoors. Shauna crossed the room, slammed them shut, locked them all. Anyone on the roof? No.

"I'm safe," said Shauna. "I'm in Neal's apartment. Everything's locked."

"But Neal's not with you? Damn it, I've got to call for his GPS location."

"You might find him with Sara," said Shauna, ignoring Mozzie's raised eyebrows. The time for secrets was over. "Might. Maybe, possibly..."

"Probably," said Peter dryly.

"Probably," she admitted. "Most likely."

"Hopefully I don't catch him doing something illegal."

"Illegal? No. Not Neal. Of course not." Shauna kept turning in a tight circle, scanning the three-sixty of the room. Nothing. No one. "Though if you call him and tell him you're coming, he'd probably appreciate it."

"I'm sure he would." Someone spoke in the background, and there was a short silence. Then, "I have to go. I'll be over there as soon as I find Sara—and Neal. I want you back at the office until we find the other guy. Neal's apartment is a target."

"Understood. I'll be ready." She hung up the phone and looked at Mozzie, who was sitting up, on alert. "There are two assassins. And Neal's on the hit list."

"Great." Mozzie had already watched her lock all the doors, but now he went through the same motions. "And how do you plan on defending yourself?"

"I figured we'd just tell the guy that Neal wasn't here."

"You're setting yourself up to be a hostage," said Mozzie.

"Do you have any better ideas?" Shauna pressed herself to the door, listening for the creak of the steps. Her heart was beating out of her chest. "Peter will be here soon. We've just got to delay the guy."

"You're not the charmer you're brother is," said Mozzie.

"I have my moments." She squeezed her eyes shut. Was she imagining it? No. Someone was coming up the stairs. "I wish I had a gun."

"See, this is why Neal's charm factor is higher. Ever hear him say he wishes he had a gun?"

"No, I hear him say that his flight was way too long." She paused. "Someone's coming."

"I hope you have a plan."

"How come it has to be me? Why don't you have a plan?" All the same, she backed away from the door. Swiped her hand across the countertop. One of the wine bottles fell, crashed into a lake of glass shards and wine.

"Shauna!" Mozzie was horrorstruck. "That cost four hundred dollars!"

"Neal's going to kill me," said Shauna. She knelt down, staining the knees of her khakis in the wine. "I can't believe that. I'm so clumsy."

Someone knocked at the door.

They froze. Shauna said, "Can you get the door, Mozz? I'm...a bit busy."

Mozzie took the long way to the door, unlocked it from the side, turned the handle. Shauna pressed her face to her knees, hoping she was low enough.

Three shots zipped through the door, sailed through the room. Two of them hit the cabinets, and the third put a whole in the opposite wall. The door swung open. Shauna looked up but didn't get up, her hands lifted. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What's going on?"

Mozzie, too, had his hands in the air. "Whatever it was, we didn't do it."

The assassin looked from Mozzie to Shauna. He was tall and well-built, with blond hair. "Where's the other guy?"

"Neal? He's out," said Mozzie. "Not here right now. Should be here in, say, half an hour, if you want to wait."

The assassin took a step closer to Shauna, the gun extended in his hand. "Judging from those blue eyes, I'm going to guess that you're related to him. Are you?"

She shrugged.

"He has a gun, Shauna. You should answer," said Mozzie.

"I'm his sister."

"Stand up."

Shauna stood, slipped in the wine, fell to one knee, her palms smacking the floor, swore because of the glass that had punctured her skin, and stood up again, wincing, her hands in fists. "I swear he'll be here in half an hour. Or you could go find him. I can tell you where he is."

"So quick to betray him?" The assassin smirked.

"No honor among thieves," said Shauna.

The assassin walked around her, his boots crunching on the former wine bottle. He kept the gun trained on her face. "I have a better idea. You walk out of here with me, and we wait somewhere else for Neal. I'm sure he'll show up."

"Doubt it," said Shauna. "I'm his sister, not his girlfriend."

"I'd like to give it a try." He put the muzzle of his gun against the back of her head. "Walk."

"You probably don't want to do that," said Mozzie, who had finally found his voice. "The Caffreys have FBI connections."

The assassin shrugged. "Walk."

"You don't want the feds after you, do you?"

"Already are." The gun dug into Shauna's skull. "Walk."

She walked. Her wine-soaked shoes kept slipping on the floor. She was almost to the door when she slipped for real, falling faster than the assassin's arm could move, reaching up with one arm like a drunken figure skater. Her palm slammed into the assassin's face. The gun went off, and she crashed to the floor, her ears ringing.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" The gun was still in his hand, but he wasn't looking at Shauna or Mozzie anymore. He was clawing at his eye with his free hand. "What the hell did you do?"

Shauna reached out and pulled the gun out of his hand easily, stood up, and trained it on him. Waiting. Waiting for him to want it back, or for Peter to arrive. She was hoping for the latter.

"There's a hole in the ceiling," said Mozzie woefully.

"I'll fix it," said Shauna. She had both hands wrapped around the gun, but her palms—and her knee—were stinging, dripping blood to the floor. She gritted her teeth and stared at the assassin. Blood was running down his face.

Footsteps stampeded up the stairs. "Stand down! FBI!"

The assassin bellowed, reached out for his gun. Shauna took a step back, right into Peter Burke, who gently shoved her aside with his own gun extended. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

And the assassin stopped, lifted one hand while pressing the other to his face. Peter frowned. "What happened?"

"He got glass in his eye," said Shauna. She felt suddenly exhausted, and her knee was throbbing.

"Shauna!" Neal reached out to wrap her in a hug.

She reached out, but the gun was still in her hands, and her palms were bleeding. "I'll stain your shirt."

He held her at arms length then, his eyes carefully staying away from the gun. "What happened?"

"I kinda, maybe, possibly broke a bottle of four-hundred dollar wine."

"Four hundred dollars?" gasped Peter, swinging to look at Neal with new eyes. "Where did you—never mind, I don't want to know."

"She scooped up the glass in her hand when she pretended to fall," said Mozzie, pride running all through his voice. "And then she slapped it in his face. I came up with that idea. Remember Neal?"

Neal nodded.

"I hurt my knee, too," said Shauna, ignoring them both. "I think I'm going to need stitches."

As federal agents swarmed the assassin, Peter turned to Shauna. He took the gun from her gently, handed it to another agent. "Let me see your hands."

She held them out for his inspection. "Yep, I think stitches are in order. But worth it. Quick thinking, Shauna. Good job."

Good job. Shauna stared up at Peter. The words felt strange, like they weren't meant for her. "Really?" Her voice came out squeaky small.

"Really." He glanced at Neal. "Contrary to public opinion, I'm not stingy when it comes to compliments. I'm just only able to give them out for stuff that's legal. So good job."

Shauna let herself smile. "What about Neal?"

"I don't praise car thieves," said Peter with a shrug and a glare. "Especially when it's my car."