Hi all… My thumb drive betrayed me and all my story drafts went poof along with it…
Then again why am I so careless…If only I had backed it up.
Sighs…well what's done is done so I should just cut the crap and continue on with my life.
Okay… I thank all those kind souls that reviewed; it really gave me courage to continue writing.
And I am so so sorry that my story is moving fast TT… My sis say that it is draggy so I speed things up TT I didn't know that it would move too fast. **Kneels down** I beg for your eternal forgiveness.
BTW… I'm not as witty or smart as Neal and Peter AND Mozzie… So Pardon me if I stink at writing them…
Now I don't own White Collar… But I do own them in my fantasy.
Ah Warning… Just in case, this chapter may contain spoilers for season 2 last episode.
I also hope you will review too… Be it good (Gives courage) or bad (Helps improve). If not why would I post this story up right?
She never could understand people's fascination with art till she met him, he was so beautiful…so delicate yet so strong at the same time.
She saw his fear through his crystal blue eyes, his lean body was tensed, ready to fight or run.
There was not only fear but also determination.
He was planning something.
He suddenly put on a mask devoid of emotions. She saw his finger twitched a little.
He was starting his plan.
She smiled and dropped the iron, stunning him.
"You really thought I would brand you, right?" she asked, amusement filled her voice.
His eyes were wide from shock, making his blue eyes seem…grey…
He breathed a small sigh of relief, it was a small movement but she saw it.
He closed his eye and took deep breath. She grinned as she took the opportunity to give him a light kiss on the mouth.
His eyes flew open. She held his head close to hers and whispered into his ear.
"I would never hurt you. I may scare you but I'll never hurt you. Just like you will never destroy a painting, I would never destroy you. I promise." She picked up the iron and gave him a gentle smile. Giving him one last look, she made her way out of the room, along with her two men.
A giant stood outside of the room, waiting for her. When she saw him she flew to his arms, "Surgei! You are back!"
"Of course…" He replied, giving her a gentle hug. She was so small in the giant embrace that it felt like if he gave her a little squeeze and she would break into pieces.
"If you are here, it means that Keller is already dead?" She asked, a child like smile on her face.
He looked away in shame, "I'm sorry but Keller escaped… I don't know how and when but we will get him. I will deal with him personally."
Her face fell, "I see…But if he does escape… will he go to the police and tell them about Neal?"
"I doubt so… Don't worry, if I catch him, I'll personally rip his heart out of his body." Surgei eyes were cold and cruel.
She hugged him tighter, "If it is you, I have nothing to worry about. Be careful and make sure he pays for playing with the Russian Mob."
"Of course!" He grinned and stalked off for his little hunt.
Neal was stunned, not just by the kiss but also the fact that his plan was practically…useless.
She surprised him by dropping the branding tool just when he was about to attack her.
She stunned him by saying she will never hurt him.
She frightened him by kissing him.
Her eyes were observing him all the time.
Her smile was always happy, almost like a twelve year old child receiving her birthday gift.
When she compared him to paintings, he figured that his job here was to be an art piece; it's not that he was not flattered but if that was the case, he would have a hard time contacting Peter.
He sighed, thinking he may as well take a shower and think about a plan later.
He removed his clothes and entered the shower, closing the curtain shower behind him. The warm water relaxed his tensed shoulders. He wondered if anyone was searching for him. He knew somehow Peter would find him. After all he caught him twice.
He froze when he heard the bathroom door open.
"I'm sorry Mr Caffrey… But I am the maid that will clean your room from now on." A soft gentle voice spoke. He relaxed a little at her words but kept an eye on the figure behind the curtain, she seems to be taking something from the counter. He wanted to jump out and stop her, but she had left when he finally wanted to.
He pushed the curtain away and cursed, his pants was what the maid was cleaning.
Now he really had to wear the white cloth. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, mentally scolding himself for not deciding fast enough. If only he had jumped out and stopped the maid, she would only see him naked but he would have his pants... But he was in the enemies' territory… If they wanted to take his pant they would.
He sighed, feeling like a five year old child arguing with himself.
He dragged himself into the closet. How does one wear cloths as clothes?
He stared at the cloths for the longest time before taking one out and started ripping it.
Peter knew something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut.
Everything was too neat, too well planned that it scares him. They even hacked into the Marshal system to simply get rid of a tracking anklet.
How long had they waited before deciding to take Neal?
How long had they been watching him?
He stood at the rooftop at June's house, staring at the scenery. They must have always been nearby, watching Neal.
Then he saw it, a building with a room that had a perfect view into Neal's room.
"Jones, could you find out who stayed in that room." Peter pointed to the opposite building.
"Sure, I'm on it." Jones replied and took off.
Peter sat on the chair that Neal had always sit in to drink his coffee.
His last conversation with Neal did not end well. He had grabbed Neal and accused him of stealing the treasure and the paintings. Neal had sworn he did not take it, and even told him that he had never lied to him. But he had not believed in him, to think he was hurt when Neal told him to prove it and stalked off angrily.
If Neal was telling the truth, then that would make him a jerk.
Peter sighed.
If something had happened to Neal, Peter just knew he would regret it for the rest of his life.
Neal had said the only person he trusts was him. Sure Neal was a pain in the ass sometimes but he is Neal, if he is not, Peter would never feel so attached to the younger man. Peter would never have felt like he had lost a son or a little brother.
He felt like a horrible jerk.
Sorry for the short chapter… But I kind of want it to be neater this time so… I had to end it here… Ahh please review and tell me if you want Keller to survive or not.
And I'm sorry if the timing is a little wrong… I'm getting a little confused myself but I'll fix the timing soon… I hope…
Don't forget to tell me if you want Keller alive or not. He may affect the story… and I'm not so sure myself…