~~~~ 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 7. [BEGIN SPOILERS] It takes place in the middle of the episode, when Peter Burke and Jack Franklin meet Jones and Neal at the parking lot, after Burke and Franklin have stolen Stan's Lamborghini. If, of course, during the show Neal had a sixteen-year-old sister named Shauna Caffrey. :)

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"He wanted to hot wire that?" Shauna unbuckled her seat belt as Jones parked the car. Peter and another guy, had to be the runaway Jack Franklin, were in the empty parking lot, standing beside a sweet Lamborghini.

"Impossible, I know." Neal opened his door. "Come on."

"Well, not entirely impossible..." Shauna's voice trailed off as Neal's eyes met hers in the rear view mirror. Jones was in the car. Jones was FBI. "At least, it wouldn't have been impossible if you'd been there."

"But I wasn't." Neal stepped out of the car, squinted into the sun and shouted across the lot to the agents. "That car's got a tracking device as good as my anklet."

Shauna hid a smile as she got out and hurried over to Peter and Franklin. They looked safe and unharmed, though seeing Peter in street clothes was a little disconcerting.

Peter's next request, directed at Neal, was just as out-of-character. "Can you disable it? The tracking device."

Neal and Shauna shared a quick glance. Things had just gotten a lot more illegal.

They weren't the only ones to notice. Jones was the last one out of the car. "Why, you're not coming in?"

Peter gritted his teeth. "It's complicated."

"No," said Shauna. "Relationships are complicated. This...this is just going to get us, I mean, it's going to get Neal in trouble."

"I can take care of myself," said Neal, cocky, because disabling a GPS device was the easiest thing in the world. Shauna herself could have done it, if she'd been asked. But she hadn't, which was probably for the better.

"I know that, but you don't have to take care of Peter, too." Shauna eyed Burke, who eyed her back with something like hurt in his eyes. She backtracked. "It's not like I don't like you. I like you. You're the nicest FBI agent I've ever met. But this is...risky."

"Yeah?" Burke held her gaze. "Of course it's risky. But Neal knows I would do the same for him."

Both Caffreys raised their eyebrows. A grin spread across Neal's face. "I'll keep that in mind."

Shauna sighed. Neal was in. Which meant she was in, too, like it or not.

"We've got to lose the Marshals," Burke told Neal.

"They're not going to be far behind us," warned Shauna.

Peter met Neal's eyes. "Then you better get started."

Neal considered the car for a second, his head tipped to the side. Making a big show of a job that would take him less than a minute. Shauna rolled her eyes. "Think you can do it?"

"I'll do my best." He shrugged out of his beloved blazer, handed it without a thank-you to Peter Burke, and strode to the car.

"Oh," said Peter, considering his new role as coat-rack. "Of course."

Shauna watched as her brother reached down beneath the glove compartment. "It's a new model."

"I've got it," said Neal.

"We haven't, um, looked into this model before. You were in prison when it came out." She bent down and peered into the darkness with him.

"Don't worry," said Neal. "Move, you're blocking the sunlight."

"What was he in prison for?" asked the new FBI agent, Jack Franklin, the one on-the-run. In theory, anyone running from the FBI could be trusted. In theory.

Shauna shrugged. "Bond forgery."

Ex-agent Franklin sighed. "I should have called Rebecca for this."

"His CI," explained Burke. "She's into cars."

"She'd already have this done," said Franklin, shifting from side-to-side. The man looked more than nervous. Needed some serious lessons from Neal Caffrey on how to be on the run without looking like you were on the run.

Bent over double beneath the glove-box, Neal cleared his throat, unimpressed with Franklin's lack of respect. "Do I understand correctly that Peter Burke is on the run? The same Peter Burke who would neeevvverrr run..."

Burke the coat-rack finally snapped. "No talking."

Shauna pressed her lips together to hide her smirk, and Neal emerged with his sleeves wrinkled and his hair mussed, but otherwise none the worse for wear. "Tracking disabled." He weighed the device in his hand, pulled his coat from Burke's arm, and paused with his eyes narrowed. "You okay?"

"Getting there," said Peter.

"I don't think he realized how stressful it was to be a fugitive." Shauna grinned and helped her brother back into his blazer.

"Definitely takes some years off," agreed Neal. He tossed the now-disabled tracking device to Peter.

Burke caught it, looked it over. "I have a new respect for your anklet. Still there after all these months."

"It's not still there because he can't disable it," said Shauna wryly. "It's still there because if he did disable it, you'd be getting a phone call from the Marshals."

Peter closed his eyes as if trying to forget what Shauna had said. "Speaking of the Marshals, we're going to need a place to hide out until we figure out our next steps."

"I think I can manage that," said Neal, his shoulders straightening a little at being called upon for help, at being the one in charge of the situation.

"Really?" Shauna jerked her head toward ex-agent Franklin, who was following Peter to talk to Jones, dropping her voice so that they couldn't hear. "You think you can convince Mozzie to hide him? Peter, maybe. But a guy who's willing to risk his life for the integrity of the Great Federal Bureau of Investigation? Never."

"Well," said Neal, squinting up into the sun, "that's why you can make the call. I have to go back to the office."

"Oh, no you don't."

"Oh, yes I do." He grinned, patted her head, turned toward the car they'd arrived in.

Her voice rose, not that it made a difference to his retreating back. "You are not leaving me with this problem!"

"What problem?" Peter walked back from where he'd been talking with Jones.

Shauna took a deep breath, let it out, smiled thinly. There was no going back now. "I'm going to help you find your hide-out."

"What? I thought Neal—"

"So did I." She pulled her phone out of her pocket, made the call to Mozzie and held it to her ear as it dialed. "So. Did. I."

Mozzie answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mozz, it's Shauna. I need a favor."

"You? Or Neal?"

"Both, but I'm making the call. I need—"

"Do you know how many favors you two have called in? Do you see me calling in favors? Oh, no, no you do not."

"What about Gina?" Shauna stepped away from Peter, who was mouthing things about Marshals and running out of time.

"Well...there was Gina." Mozzie paused. "Does this involve the FBI?"

"Um...yes. But it's not what you think. They're on the run from the FBI. Need a place to hide."

"They? Peter and Neal? What have they done now? Why is Neal running from the FBI again? I don't need that—"

"No! No, no, not that." Shauna turned her back to Peter and Franklin, watching out of the corner of her eye as Neal got into Jones' car and shut the door. "Neal's not running. It's Peter..."

"And...?"

"And another FBI agent." She didn't get any further than that. She didn't expect to.

"Two FBI agents? Are you out of your mind, Shauna Caffrey? You think I'm going to hide two FBI agents? Where's your brother? Let me talk to him!"

"He's just leaving." And he was. Their car was pulling out of the parking lot. Gone. Leaving her with this mess.

"I'll call him."

"No!" She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. "Don't call him. The Marshals are probably already tapping his phone."

"The Marshals?" Mozzie paused, then sighed. "Do I want to know?"

"Peter and...and his friend just need a place to think." Shauna bit her lip. "It shouldn't be long."

For a long time, Mozzie said nothing. Then, "How about Tuesday?"

"Thank you, Mozzie." Shauna closed her eyes in relief, then turned around and gestured for Peter and Franklin to get in the car. "Where do you want to meet?"

"The alley across the street. I want to make sure this other agent checks out." There was resignation in Mozzie's voice. "I liked Tuesday."

Shauna slid into the backseat of the stolen Lamborghini. "You could probably keep it. Peter wouldn't come back."

"No, no, can't keep it." He cleared his throat. "How long will it take you to get here?"

"Fifteen minutes at least." She watched as Franklin sat down in the passenger seat. He didn't look back at her.

"See you then."

Shauna flipped her phone shut and motioned for Peter to sit down and drive. "Thirty-fourth and ninth."

Peter the coat-rack-turned-chauffeur put the car in reverse. "I take it he wasn't thrilled about Franklin."

"No," said Shauna, "but he'll live."

"Who is this guy?" asked Franklin.

"A friend," said Shauna and Peter at the same time.

"Well," said Peter, "he's a friend of a friend. But he's on our side."

"Don't let him hear you say that," said Shauna. She grinned into the wind as Peter stepped on the gas. "Nice ride."

"First time?" Franklin caught her eye in the rear-view mirror, almost smiling.

"Um..." Shauna bit her lip. "Not exactly."

Franklin looked at Burke, who smiled thinly. "I bet it's her first time legally."

"Or it would be," said Shauna, "except I'm pretty sure this Lamborghini was stolen, too."

Peter didn't answer.

"Neal must be rubbing off," continued Shauna, smiling.

"No talking."