The first time Neal stepped foot in a museum he was twelve. He'd only slipped inside trying to hide out from a beat cop who'd been chasing him fifteen blocks for one lousy stolen candy bar but even after he'd realized the cop had given up he'd stayed because in less than two minutes, he was completely hooked. He was mesmerized by the beauty that he saw all around him, by the paintings and the sketches and the sculptures. He never knew that things like that existed. And certainly not in a place where you could just go and look at them whenever you wanted.
He stayed until closing, walking from room to room, painting to painting, absorbing everything with a child's eye full of awe and wonder. The colors were so much brighter than he ever imagined the sculptures so much more lifelike than he thought possible. He was amazed by the way a simple landscape could evoke such feelings of loneliness in him or how a portrait could elicit such longing.
Then there were the people. The museum was packed with school children and tourists and college students and business men on their lunch break. There were so many different people from so many different walks of life, all in the same place, all speaking the same language – art. That's when Neal decided he was going to be an artist.
He went out that night and stole a sketch book and some charcoal pencils and tried to create his own masterpiece, but he couldn't. He couldn't seem to make the things that he saw in his mind translate onto the paper. Thinking, perhaps it was just the medium to blame, the next day he switched to paint and canvas but still, it just wasn't right. Sculpting didn't go any better either and he didn't understand.
So he went back to the museum and he stayed until they kicked him out. He came back the next day and the day after that and the day after that. He looked at every painting, studied every sculpture. He drank in the details, almost as if he wanted to memorize them. And somehow, he did.
The next time he sat in front of his sketch book it wasn't something of his own design that came to mind, rather something he remembered from the museum. When he closed his eyes he could see the sketch as clearly as if it were right in front of him. So he sketched that, exactly as he remembered it, stroke for stroke, smudge for smudge, and when he finished, it was practically perfect.
He found that if he worked at it, he could duplicate anything that he saw, no matter the medium. He didn't understand how he could feel so connected to brushstrokes that weren't his, to carving marks that he didn't initially create and yet no matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to get his own feelings, his own strokes out right.
As an artist this was a source of contention for Neal, but he realized very quickly in the world of forgers it was a blessing. Forgery was its own art from and like all other's it wasn't something that normally came easy. Good forgers were generally classically trained artists. They could study and work hard for years, and still only manage to produce a reasonable facsimile of a masterpiece. They were usually in it for the money.
Great forgers however, they were usually in it for love. Love of art, love of history, love of beauty in whatever form. Neal was one of the great ones. He could look at a piece, a piece that he'd never seen before and know what the artist was thinking, what he was feeling when he'd created it. More importantly, he could take that knowledge and he could put those thoughts and those feelings into his work.
Neal didn't copy art, he recreated it.
Chloe stood in the doorway of the balcony and smiled, watching as Neal's fingers smoothed out lines in the clay, molding it precisely. His brow was furrowed in concentration and the wind was blowing his hair into his eyes but he didn't seem to care. He looked between the almost finished bust in front of him and then over at the 3D holographic image of the sculpture that Chloe had created for him spinning lazily in the air and made a few adjustments.
"Can I help you with something," Neal asked without turning around as he grabbed a small tool off the table and started scraping some of the clay away.
"Nope, I just like watching you work," Chloe said and Neal turned and smiled at her. He grabbed the rag on the edge of the table and wiped his hands off.
"I'd forgotten you liked to do that." Neal said as she walked outside and held a cup of coffee out to him.
"It looks good." Chloe bent low next to the sculpture to study it. "It looks perfect."
"Not yet," Neal shook his head. "But give me another hour or so."
"I was thinking, before we went in there tomorrow night, we should probably have that talk," Chloe said.
"Yeah, we probably should," Neal nodded and sipped his coffee waiting for Chloe to make the first move.
"I know you've got a lot of questions for me and I'll answer them all, I swear. But before you ask me anything, there's just one thing I need to know." Chloe said softly and Neal nodded. "Where did you go that night?" Chloe asked him
Neal opened his mouth and Chloe could feel her heart beating faster and faster, waiting to hear what he had to say, but she never got the chance. From inside the apartment she heard the sound of the door buzzing and she sighed. "Hold that thought?" Chloe asked and Neal nodded, following her back into the room just as the door buzzed again.
"We've got company," Victor called out and Chloe, pulling the security feed up on the big monitor. Two woman were standing on stoop, waiting to be buzzed in.
"Oh this is gonna be awkward," Peter said with a smirk directed at Neal.
"I take it you know them?" Victor asked Neal and he nodded.
"We've been expecting them," Chloe said. "You can let them up."
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Alex checked her watch as she hurried down the street. When Neal called earlier and asked for a favor she wanted to tell him to shove it up his ass. Then he'd dropped Chloe's name and Alex gave in, just like he knew she would. She finally had an opportunity to pay back her debt and she wasn't going to pass that up. So she'd told Neal to give her four hours. She'd gotten it done in three and a half. She was just that good.
After their disastrous attempt to steal the music box in Copenhagen, she'd wanted nothing more to do with Neal Caffrey. He'd landed her in the hospital, got her on Interpol's radar, and put her so massively in Chloe's debt, Alex wasn't sure she'd ever get out.
So when he'd contacted her a year ago about the music box again her first instinct had been to walk away. That feeling had only increased when she'd seen the anklet and met Neal's new BFF, Special Agent Peter Burke of the FBI, no way was she getting caught up with them. Then he'd told her that Chloe was in trouble, that the only way to get her back was the music box and after that Alex had no choice but to help. So she'd put her feelers out and gotten a lead at the Italian Consulate.
Once again, her first instinct had been to walk away. Stealing from the Italian's wasn't something one did lightly, especially when you had the FBI breathing down your neck, watching your every move. But he'd reminded her it was for Chloe and suddenly Alex found herself making a plan to break into the Consulate right under the nose of the FBI. Unfortunately her Intel had been faulty and there was no music box. Well there had been a music box but someone had gotten to it long before she'd even heard the rumor it had been there.
In the end, she'd almost gotten pinched by the suit and Interpol moved her up to the top of their watch list which made getting out of the country a real bitch. There was a big chance she'd never be able to show her face in Italy again, which sucked because she liked Italy. On top of all that, she still owed Chloe. On the other hand, Neal now owed her so at least she'd gotten something out of the deal.
Alex patted the bag slung around her shoulder and smiled. With this, she and Chloe were so even. She'd had to call in so many favors to get her hands on these things and whatever they hell these things were, they cost her a ridiculous amount of money. Hell after this, Chloe might even owe her one.
Alex looked down at her phone and double checked the address Neal had given her as a redhead got out of a cab a few yards ahead of her.
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Sarah got out of the cab and looked up at the building. She wasn't exactly sure what made her agree to come when Peter called, but she was pretty sure that curiosity had a lot to do with it. And she knew what they said about curiosity. She paid the cabbie and walked up to the building, running her fingers down the list of names until she found Apartment 10c, 'E. Perrine'.
"The Maltese Falcon," Sarah laughed before pushing the button. "That is so Neal."
Sarah stepped back to wait for the lock to disengage just as a woman walked up behind her, scanned down the list before snorting and pushing her own button. The woman stood next to Sarah, glancing over at her quickly and offering her a tight smile. Sarah smiled back uneasily and couldn't help thinking that the girl looked really familiar.
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Alex ducked into the doorway of the building on the right. The redhead she'd seen getting out of the cab was waiting at the door but she didn't pay her much attention as she ran her fingers down the tenant list. She knew Chloe's apartment the second she saw the name and snorted, leaning hard on the button before joining the redhead by the door.
Alex glanced at the other woman quickly, offering her tight smile. She looked really familiar but Alex couldn't seem to place her and decided to give up trying when the door buzzed to let them in.
They both reached for the handle at the same time. "After you," the redhead said and Alex ducked into the lobby of the building and headed for the elevators, tossing a curt 'thanks' over her shoulder.
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Sarah held the door open for the brunette, getting a particularly unimpressive 'thanks' for her troubles before walking into the building after her. The other woman got to the elevator bank first and pressed the call button so Sara had nothing to do now but wait.
"Nice night tonight," Sara said idly trying to make conversation but the brunette just nodded and smiled. "I thought that Indian summer was going to last forever."
"The heat does tend to linger," the brunette agreed with her.
"But there was a nice breeze earlier," Sara pointed out lamely.
The elevator finally arrived putting them both out of their misery and they stepped in. Just like before with the door, they both reached out at the same time and pressed the button for the tenth floor.
"Huh," the brunette said, giving Sara a puzzled look before settling against the side of the elevator.
"I'm sorry, but have we met?" Sara asked unable to stop herself.
"I don't think so," the brunette shrugged. "But you do look familiar."
"Sara, Sara Ellis." Sara held out her hand and the brunette hesitated a second before shaking it.
"Alex," was all she said, offering Sara no last name.
"What kind of work are you in?" Sara asked.
"Art," Alex answered with a smile. "Acquisitions and Sales."
Sara's face split into a grin. "I'm in Insurance. Recovery. We must have crossed paths at some point."
Alex finally realized where she'd recognized Sara from. She was a legend in the business, granted on the other side of the law as Alex, but a legend none the less. Sara had recovered quite of few of Alex's acquisitions before she made it a point to stay away from the other woman's clients. It just wasn't worth the hassle.
"Oh, I'm sure we have." Alex said with her jaw clenched.
When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, Alex wasn't all that surprised when Sara followed her down the hall. She was even less surprised when Sara came to a stop right next to her outside Chloe's door. Though from the look on Sara's face, she hadn't quite put the pieces together yet. Alex just smiled and knocked on the door, wondering what in the hell Neal had gotten her involved in this time.
Moz opened the door before Sara could ask Alex what was going on and greeted the other girl like a long lost friend. "Alex, long time no see."
"It's been three months," Alex rolled her eyes and pushed past the man into the apartment leaving Sara out in the hall by herself. Moz turned his attention to Sara, his smile dropping instantly as he took her in.
"For the record, I was against bringing you in on this," Moz said without preamble before turning and following Alex into the apartment.
Not exactly the warmest welcome Sara could have asked for, especially considering Peter had asked her there as a favor. She thought about turning around and walking away, about going back home to bed and pretending this night had never happened when Peter appeared in the doorway.
"I'm sorry about him. He's…well, he's Mozzie," Peter shrugged and really that was the only excuse he could give. "Come in, please."
Sara sighed, she had come all this way and she was pretty curious so she might as well see the whole thing through. She stepped over the thresh hold and Peter smiled, moving back to let her further into the apartment. She stopped just inside the door when she saw all the monitor's around the room and the people bustling back and forth, people that she had a gut feeling were not members of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
A large wall caught her attention out of the corner of her eye and she turned to study it closer. There were tons of pictures of the Metropolitan Museum, exterior shots, interior shots, security schematics. "Peter what—"
"I'll explain everything, I promise," Peter steered her further into the room, begging her with his eyes to just trust him.
He led her over to a sofa and sat her down, offering to get her a cup of coffee. She took him up on that and when he turned around and headed toward the kitchen, Sara saw Neal, standing next to a short blonde woman. Alex was in front of them, digging something out of the bag slung over her shoulder.
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Chloe's eyes lit up as Alex pulled the silver cuffs out of her bag and tossed them to her. "So we're square?" Alex asked and Chloe looked from her to the cuffs and then back again.
"We're more than square," Chloe assured the woman, passing the cuffs off to Victor who immediately started to dismantle them.
"Alright then," Alex nodded, slinging the bag back across her shoulder, her eyes darting to the picture of Roman Petrovitch on one of the monitors. "Look, I don't know what you've gotten yourself mixed up in but, Petrovitch is not a man you mess with lightly." Alex said. "I had to overturn a lot of rocks that definitely would have been better off left unturned to find those things and his name came up every time. I mean, I'm seriously contemplating leaving the country for a few days just in case, so, you know, watch your backs."
"We will," Chloe assured her with a smile and she turned and walked to the door. "Hey Alex," Chloe called out and she paused with her hand on the knob to turn back. "I hear Italy is beautiful this time of year."
"Italy huh?" Alex asked slowly. Chloe had to know that the second Alex stepped foot on Italian soil they'd probably lock her up and throw away the key, that is if she even managed to make it through customs. "I hear that tensions are pretty high in that region. Maybe now's not really the best time to travel over there."
"I know a guy at Interpol," Chloe shrugged. "He said it shouldn't be a problem." Alex raised an eyebrow and Chloe nodded subtly at her. Chloe had fixed her problem with Interpol. Of course Chloe had fixed her problem with Interpol, that's what Chloe did best.
"Tell your friend I owe him one," Alex smirked as she opened the door. "I'll bring you back a cannoli."
"You know a guy at Interpol?" Peter asked Chloe with a raised eyebrow and she blushed and looked away changing the subject. He had an uneasy feeling her 'guy at Interpol' was probably just Victor, hacking into the system and wiping Alex's record. But since he had no definitive proof of that, he was gonna drop it. They had bigger things to worry about, like Sarah who had just seen what Neal had been working on out on the porch.
"Is that my Cellini?" Sara gaped at the sculpture and then looked over to Neal and Peter.
"No," Neal shook his head then smiled. "But…thank you."
"It's a fake." Chloe jumped in, trying to appease her.
"But you're going to convince the Curator that it's real." Neal added.
Sara barked out a laugh but when she saw Neal wasn't joking, she sobered up very quickly. "I'm really not," she said, grabbing her bag and heading for the door but Chloe stepped in her path and stopped her.
"Please just hear us out." Chloe pleaded and something about the look in her eye, the desperation that Sara saw there made it impossible to say no.
"You have ten minutes," Sara sat back down on the edge of the couch and gave Chloe her full attention.
"You've heard of Roman Petrovitch?" Chloe asked.
"Everyone's heard of Roman Petrovitch," Sara snorted, her gaze moving to the image of Petrovitch on one of the monitors.
"On Friday night, he's going to sell 9 people, one of whom is a very very good friend of mine, to the highest bidder." Chloe said and Sara's head snapped back to her. "We need your help to stop it."
"By convincing the Curator at the Met that they have a fake Cellini?" Sara asked and Chloe nodded. "And what exactly made you think I would do this?" Sara asked Peter.
"Because you owe me," Neal pointed out.
"This is Roman Petrovitch," Sara shook her head. "I'm going to need more than that."
"Fine, don't do it for Neal. Do it for your sister." Chloe said, a small snap to her voice.
Sara's whole body went rigid as she turned her attention on Chloe. "What do you know about my sister?" Her voice was even, the anger in her words barely contained.
"I know that she disappeared when you were young. I know that you've been looking for her ever since." Chloe took a step closer, treading as carefully as she dared. "I also know that your sister was very special, that she could do things the other kids couldn't. Things no one should be able to do."
"How can you possibly know that?" Sara asked in a whisper.
"I did my homework," Chloe said simply. "I also know that the day before she disappeared your mom took her to a see the doctor. A specialist, she said. Someone who could fix people like your sister." Sara nodded her head numbly.
"His name is Dr. Cartwright," Oliver said holding out a file to Sara. She took it and flipped it open. "He's been on the Luthor's payroll for over twenty years. Initially his job was to find patients with specific blood anomalies and bring them to Lionel's attention. Your sister wasn't the only one of his patients to go missing."
"I don't understand," Sara looked through the folder slowly. "This man, he has my sister?"
"No," Chloe shook her head. "Not anymore anyway. We've found paperwork that indicates she was one of the subjects being held in this facility," Chloe nodded at Victor who called up an image of a defunct looking compound somewhere in the mountains.
"If we're right, and we usually are, she was held there for a little over two years. After that Cartwright was transferred off the meta project and onto something different. The facility was shut down shortly after that." Victor explained.
"Where is she now?" Sara asked.
"We don't know." Victor shrugged. "From what we've managed to piece together, some of the subjects were terminated and the rest were split up and moved to different facilities-spread all over the world, but we don't know which subjects went where yet."
"Hannah," Sara snapped at him. "She's not a subject, her name was-is, Hannah."
"Right, sorry." Victor cringed.
"We don't know where Hannah was sent but we do know that she was sent somewhere. She wasn't one of the one of the ones that were terminated." Chloe jumped in. "Look, I've found out more about your sister in the last four hours than the police have found in the last twenty years. Imagine what I could find if I really tried."
"Are you telling me you can find my sister?" Sara asked her.
"I'm telling you that if she's still out there, there is no one else on this planet more qualified to find her than us," Chloe corrected her.
"So, what? If I agree to help you, you'll find my sister?" Sara said. "And if I don't?"
"I'll still find your sister," Chloe said confused. "We're not monsters."
Sara looked down at the file in her hands. Paper clipped in the front of the folder was the picture her mother had given to the police of Hannah and Sara when they were little. "This is all just a little bit overwhelming. I'm going to just need a minute, please," Sara brushed past Chloe and made her way out onto the balcony.
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"How the hell did you know about her sister?" Neal turned to Chloe.
"What did you think I've been doing for the past four hours while you were out there playing with your clay?" Chloe nudged his shoulder with hers. "I figured she wasn't going to be too eager to do you a favor, even if she did owe you one, so I thought we might need a bit more incentive."
"Is her sister really a meta?" Peter asked.
"Yeah, I got lucky with that." Chloe shook her head. "I was hoping to find a secret affair or suspicious money transfers. But you know, this works too."
"Can you really find her?" Neal asked.
"If she's still alive, we can find her." Chloe assured them moving to the balcony doors.
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Sara closed her eyes and let the wind rush over her, calming her.
"Sara! Sara! Come quick!" Hannah screamed from down by the edge of the lake.
Sara sighed and closed her book setting it beside her on the grass. The frantic tone in her sister's voice didn't worry her, the last couple of times she'd been called like that, Hannah had just wanted to show her a cool rock or a bird's nest. She pulled herself to her feet and walked leisurely down the path to the lake, letting her fingertips skim along the tips of the tall grass.
"You better not be in the water, mom said not to get dirty," Sara called ahead of her. She stopped at the water's edge and froze because Hannah was nowhere to be seen.
"I'm not in the water," Hannah said and Sara looked up to see her balanced precariously on a limb of the large cherry blossom tree.
"Yeah, because being in the tree is so much better," Sara scoffed looking pointedly at the multiple tears in Hannah's dress.
"Whatever," Hannah rolled her eyes. "I need to show you something."
"Is it another dead frog because I'll pass," Sara looked up.
Hannah smiled at her, grabbed the branch above her head and yanked on it, hard. A cascade of cherry blossoms rained down on Sara and she closed her eyes and ducked her head, waiting for them to hit her but they never did. Confused, Sara opened her eyes and gasped. She vaguely heard Hannah drop out of the tree and come to stand next to her.
"Hannah, what—" Sara stared in front of her in awe, unable to express what she was thinking. The cherry blossoms were frozen in place, hanging in the air all around her, not falling, not moving, not even ruffling in the breeze.
"So much better than a dead frog right?" Hannah asked and Sara nodded, reaching out a finger and touching one of the flowers, freeing it from its stasis and sending it floating slowly to the ground.
"You did this?" Sara asked her and it was Hannah's turn to nod. "How?"
"I have no idea," Hannah told her excitedly. "I was sitting in the tree and my shoe fell off. I reached for it and it just froze, in mid air. I tried it a few more times on sticks and leaves and I just had to show you."
"Can you make it stop?" Sara asked and Hannah looked at the flowers and concentrated hard. They all seemed to move at once, continuing their decent to the ground. "Can you do it again?" Sara asked and Hannah laughed and nodded.
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Sara smiled at the memory and heard the sliding glass door open behind her. "Why do you need me?" Sara turned around to look at Chloe. "Why not have Peter bring in the FBI?"
"I can't," Chloe said.
"Why not?" Sara asked.
"The people that he's selling, they're like your sister. Different." Chloe said.
"Meta's," Sara said and Chloe nodded. "Petrovitch is selling them for what they can do?" Chloe nodded again. "And if you bring in the FBI, they'd be obligated to report them to the VRA."
"You see my dilemma," Chloe smiled.
"Your friend, what can he do?" Sara asked. "What's his power?"
"He's fast, really fast." Chloe explained.
"If he's so fast, how did he get caught?" Sara frowned.
"We're still not really clear on that," Chloe admitted. "Though I suspect it's going to be a sore spot for him for a while. And the guys are never gonna let him live it down."
"Hannah could stop time," Sara said. "Sometimes I hated it because she'd use it to cheat when we played games but other times it was just…amazing. I remember the fourth of July, a few months before she disappeared. We were in the park, watching the fireworks and I said I wished that they could last forever, so she froze them for me. She froze everyone and we sat there and stared up at them for what felt like hours, just the two of us in this frozen time."
"That sounds nice," Chloe agreed.
"It was," Sara frowned. "And then one day we were playing tag in the living room and I hit the hall table. My mom's favorite vase went crashing to the floor and Hannah stopped it. Right when Mom walked into the room. The next day she went to the doctor, and the day after that, she was gone." Sara shook her head. "I never even made the connection. I was too young back then to realize and the older I got, the more convinced I was that I'd just imagined all that stuff. That it was just a story I made up, a fairy tale I told myself about my sister, that I made her into this magical being in my head. I convinced myself that it wasn't real, that it couldn't be real."
"It was real," Chloe said.
"Yeah," Sara nodded. "I'd put it so far out of my mind, I'd almost forgotten about it until you mentioned it." She turned to the Cellini, circling the table and studying the piece. "It is really very good," Sara admitted. "And don't ever tell him I said that."
"Your secrets safe with me," Chloe assured her.
Sara stood up straighter as Neal walked out to join them on the balcony. "I'll do it," she told them.
"Thanks," Neal said and she glared at him.
"I'm not doing it for you," she reminded him, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Still, thanks." Neal nodded, picking up one of the smaller tools before leaning back over the bust.
"So what's the story with you two anyway?" Chloe asked, her eyes flicking from Sara to Neal then back again.
"He stole a Raphael from a client of mine." Sara told Chloe.
"Allegedly," Neal called out indignantly. "I was never charged or convicted of that."
"You stole it," Sara insisted. "And one day, not only am I going to prove it, but I'm going to get it back." She nodded at Chloe once before walking back into the apartment.
"Wow, she's really serious about that huh?" Chloe asked watching her walk away.
"She's the best in the business," Neal shrugged. "Everything she's gone after she's gotten back. Except for that. It's her white whale." He went back to the sculpture and Chloe stood there watching him for a minute.
"You totally stole it didn't you?" Chloe asked him.
"Oh yeah," Neal nodded and Chloe barked out a laugh. Apparently it was contagious because soon enough Neal found himself laughing too. Sarah and Peter stopped talking and turned to them. Peter looked confused but Sarah narrowed her eyes in suspicion so Neal and Chloe hurriedly turned back to the sculpture.
"Do you still have it?" Chloe asked as Neal carved delicately around the eyes.
Neal paused and looked over at Chloe, slowly dropping the tool to the table top. "Yeah. Why?"
"I think I just found our exit strategy," Chloe told him and Neal was almost positive he wasn't going to like this. "I just need to check something with Moz before I'm sure. Is this thing about ready to be weighted and bronzed?" she nodded at the bust.
"Whenever Victor's ready," Neal nodded.
"Good. Can you run Sara through what she's gotta do tomorrow morning?" Chloe called over her shoulder as she walked back into the apartment.
"Sure," Neal said. "I'm not gonna like this am I?"
"No," Chloe shook her head with a laugh. "In fact I'm pretty sure you're gonna hate it." Yet there was no doubt in Chloe's mind that he would do it anyway.
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Neal handed Sara a mug of fresh coffee and sat down next to her on the couch. "Your job is easy," Neal said as she sipped the coffee. "You just need to make the curator believe that your Cellini is the real one and the one they have on display is a fake."
"You call that easy?" Sara asked him.
"You'll tell them that it was switched out during a robbery," Neal explained.
"But there was no robbery," Sara said.
"No, but we're gonna make him think there was."
"How?" Sara asked Neal and he looked over at Victor, offering him the floor.
"It's actually easy. A few well placed glitches in the security footage and you can make it look like someone looped the feed." Victor said.
"You can't hack the Met," Sara shook her head. "Their system is completely closed circuit."
"Nothing is completely closed circuit," Victor said. "Well, not to me anyway. Trust me I just need to be in the room, the rest will practically take care of itself."
Sara looked at him skeptically but she had no other option but to trust him. "Just make sure the curator puts the Cellini in his office safe and not in the vault."
"What's the matter? You can't get into the vault?" Sara asked.
"I can get into the vault, just not in the time frame we've got."
"Ok, if you say so." Sara took one last sip of her coffee and stood up. "Have the bust ready by 8:00."
"Uh, I'm not sure if…" Neal looked over at Victor, unsure where he stood on figuring out the cuffs.
"Have it ready by 8:00," Sara said firmly and Victor and Neal looked at each other before nodding.
"8:00's perfect." Neal said.
"I should probably get back to work," Victor stood up from the table and walked back over to his work station. Neal smiled after him when Chloe caught his eye. She and Mozzie were standing, their heads were bent together as they studied the papers laid out on the table in front of them.
"How exactly did you get mixed up in all of this?" Sara asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
"Met a girl," Neal smiled, nodding at Chloe. She must have sensed him, because she cut herself off mid sentence and lifted her head, smiling softly back at him. "She asked me steal something for her. After that I was pretty much gone."
"Yeah, that sounds like you," Sara laughed and headed for the door as Chloe made her way over to Neal, in her hands the papers she'd been looking at with Mozzie.
"Hey, how are you with the Impressionists?" Chloe asked waving the papers in front of her face like a fan.
Neal hesitated for a second, glancing around the room to make sure that Peter was not in earshot. "There may or may not be a Degas in the Musee d'Orsay that's actually a Caffrey. Why?"
"How long would it take you to duplicate these?" Chloe handed him the papers and he flipped through them.
"What kind of test would it need to pass?" Neal studied the images.
"Just visual." Chloe said.
"A week-maybe two," Neal handed Chloe back the papers.
"You have less than 12 hours," she said.
"Then I'm gonna need coffee, a lot of coffee." Neal said.
"I'll start a new pot," Chloe turned toward the kitchen and Neal put a hand on her arm.
"Not here, I can't paint here. The atmosphere is to…hectic," he shook his head. "We'll go to June's"
"We'll go to June's?" Chloe asked him. "You need me to hold your brushes for you or something?"
"Of course not, Mozzie normally does that," Neal joked. "But we still need to have that talk," he pointed out.
"Right," Chloe nodded. "The talk."
"Plus, I need you to hold my brushes," Neal nodded over her shoulder at where Mozzie was making a very conspicuous exit from the apartment. "Mozzie appears to be busy."
"He's got to go return the invitation we 'borrowed'. And I asked him to pick up some stuff for me," Chloe explained.
"What stuff?" Neal asked reaching for his hat.
"We should get going," Chloe changed the subject as Neal opened the door.
"Hey," Peter called out, halting their exit and Chloe and Peter stopped as he made his way to them. "Where are you two going?"
"June's," Neal said.
"Why?" Peter asked.
Neal smiled and shrugged. "I honestly don't know."
Peter narrowed his eyes at Neal and turned to Chloe. "I…uh," she glanced at Neal out of the corner of her eye but he was certainly no help. "I plead the 5th?" Chloe asked hopefully and Peter crossed his arms over his chest, not the least bit amused. "What would you say if I told you I could hand you Roman Petrovitch on a silver platter?"
Peter laughed but stopped when Chloe didn't join him. "Wait, you're serious?"
"You said every agency in the world was after this guy. How badly do you want it to be the FBI who finally brings him in, if it's the White Collar division to be the ones who brought down Roman Petrovitch."
"And you can do that?" Peter asked her.
"With sufficient probable cause for you to dig into his life and find more than enough evidence to put him away forever," Chloe said.
Peter thought about it for a minute. It would be big to be the one to take down Roman Petrovitch, not just for the White Collar division but for his career. "Is this, in anyway, legal?" he asked Chloe cautiously.
"Define legal?" Chloe asked him and he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I don't want to know," Peter shook his head.
"You should go home, get some sleep," Neal clapped Peter on the back. "Sara won't be back until 8 tomorrow."
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Neal unlocked the door to his room and walked in, tossing his keys onto the table. "I'm gonna go get my supplies," he called over his shoulder as Chloe walked in behind him.
She nodded absently as she looked around the room. The other two times she'd been here, she'd been a bit too preoccupied to really get a good look at the place. She imagined during the day the wall of windows leading out the terrace probably flooded the room with natural light and Chloe understood why Neal would want rather paint here.
She walked further into the room and set her bag on the table, taking in the small kitchen area off to the side that Chloe was pretty sure served no actual purpose other than an aesthetic one considering the Neal that she knew wasn't exactly a culinary genius. She wandered over to the seating -area, her eyes raking along the books on the bookshelf, and she crouched down when she saw all the vinyl on the bottom shelves.
Chloe ran her fingers along the spines of the vinyl and her face split into a huge grin as she saw a familiar record. She pulled it out and stood up, looking around for the record player, finally finding it on top of the stove, which only reinforced Chloe's assumption that he never used it.
She slid the record of its case and very carefully placed it on the player, turning it on before positioning the needle and letting it drop. The hiss of the kneeled along the vinyl echoed into the room before a soft guitar started playing and then the gravely tortured voice of Robert Johnson joined in and Chloe closed her eyes and let the music wash over her.
When she opened her eyes she jumped slightly, her hand going to her chest in surprise as she took in the amused face of June standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry, didn't mean to startle you," June stepped further into the room. "I heard the music."
Chloe reached over and turned the music down. "Did we wake you?"
"Don't be silly," June brushed it off and smiled. "You know, the minute Oliver told me that you were going to be his plus one, I instantly thought of Neal and how much I so wanted the two of you to meet. Imagine my surprise when I found out that the two of you had already met."
"It's a long story," Chloe said, unsure of how much exactly June knew about Neal's past.
"Yes, that's what he said," June sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. Chloe took the hint and sat beside her. "He talks about you. A lot." June said. Chloe raised her eyebrow. "Well, I didn't realize it was you at the time but after the other night, now I'm sure there's no one else that it could be." June reached over and brushed a bit of hair off of Chloe's face.
"And I'm sure you must be mistaken," Chloe ducked her head and attempted to stand up but June grabbed her wrist to keep her seated,
"I'm not," June shook her head. "It was you. The one that got away."
"But Kate—"
"Kate was a mistake," June said. "Even he knows that. You can see it on his face when he talks about her. But I always know when he's talking about you. He'll sit there, flipping that pocket watch open and closed and get this far away look in his face and you can tell, in every word that he speaks, how he regrets ever letting you go."
Chloe shook her head because that wasn't right, he didn't let her go, he gave her away. She wanted to tell that to June, wanted to remind Neal of that, tell him that he didn't get to think about her like that after what he did. Then the rest of what June said seemed to push through the fog in Chloe's brain.
"Wait, what pocket watch?" Chloe asked softly and June patted her knee before standing up.
"I believe he keeps it over here," June walked to the fire place at the other end of the room and slid one of the panels of wood to side, revealing a secret compartment. She reached in and smiled, pulling out the pocket watch and holding it out toward Chloe.
Chloe got up and walked across the room slowly until she made it to June, her eyes never leaving the watch. "May I?" Chloe reached out her hand, not realizing it was shaking until June grabbed it, steadying it with hers before dropping it into her palm.
Chloe stared down at the familiar watch and felt tears sting the corner of her eyes. She closed her fist, her fingers tightening around the cold metal. Her knuckles went white with the pressure and she forced herself to take a few deep, calming breaths.
"I take it that watch means something to you," June whispered and Chloe nodded numbly.
"It was my grandfathers, I thought—" Chloe swallowed a sob. "I thought I'd lost it forever." She'd searched for it when she packed up Jimmy's things but she never found it. For a while there she thought maybe he'd gotten rid of it after the divorce out of spite or possibly even fold it for money. She looked back down at the watch, her thumb tracing the C.S. engraved on the back for Conner Sullivan.
"He's had that as long as I've known him," June said. "I asked him once why he never wore it and he said that it wasn't his, that he was just holding it for a friend."
"I asked him," Chloe flipped the watch over in her hands. "But it was just a joke, I never really thought—"
"Obviously there are some things that the two of you need to discuss," June patted Chloe on the back and headed for the door, stopping by the record player to turn the music up a bit. "I hope to see you around here more often."
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Neal carried the blank canvases out from the closet and stacked them up by the fireplace, "I don't know if I have enough supplies here. We might have to go out to stock up." When Chloe didn't comment he looked up confused to see the room empty. Robert Johnson was coming out of the record player and her bag was still on the table so he was pretty sure she hadn't just left. "Chloe?" he called out confused.
"Over here," she said and Neal made his way through the seating area, stopping when he saw Chloe laying sideways across his bed, her head hanging off the side, the tips of her hair touching the ground.
When she saw him standing there she smiled sheepishly. "I found the sweet spot."
Neal walked over to the bed and sat down next to her, ignoring the feelings that were stirring in him at the sight of Chloe spread across his bed. She didn't make a move to sit up and Neal looked down where her hands were splayed across her stomach, her fingers drumming a steady beat along with the music. He paused as a flash of gold caught his eye and dropped his hand on top of Chloe's, sliding his fingers between hers before pulling her hand back.
He stared down at the gold pocket watch resting on her stomach and reached out with his free hand to pick it up. He felt the mattress shift next to him and turned to see that Chloe had pulled herself up. She was propped up on her elbows staring at him.
"Where did you get it?" she asked, reaching out to run the chain through her fingers.
"Jimmy," Neal said.
"When?" Chloe asked him.
"That night," Neal said, dropping the watch back on her stomach. It slid down onto the mattress forgotten as Chloe sat up all the way. "You asked me to steal it for you, so I did." He shrugged, his thumb rubbing softly along the inside of her wrist and Chloe realized he was still holding her hand. She didn't pull it away.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Neal walked through the lobby of the hotel, offering Maxwell, the concierge a nod. "Shall I call for your car Mr. Dermott?" Maxwell asked, the phone already halfway up to his ear.
"Yes, thank you," Neal said as he passed the front desk and made his way out the front doors.
"Of course sir," Maxwell nodded and Neal stepped out into the cool night air.
His car pulled up less than a minute later and with one phone call to Mozzie, he had the address to Jimmy's apartment programmed into his GPS. He smiled softly to himself, imagining the look on Chloe's face when she woke up in the morning and he was dangling her grandfather's pocket watch in front of her. He'd probably get thank you sex for something like that.
He drove a little faster as he thought about Chloe, tangled up in the bed sheets fast asleep back at the hotel waiting for him and as much as he wanted to be up there with her right now, he was grateful for this time to take a breath and think about what had just happened.
He was 99% sure that he was falling madly, deeply, head over heels in love with Chloe. It had probably been happing without him even realizing it for quite some time now but he'd ignored. Partly because he'd had Kate and she had Jimmy, but mainly because the very thought of it scared him more than anything had ever scared him before.
Chloe was unlike anyone he'd ever met in his life. She was a genuinely a good person, and yet at the same time she was just a little bit crooked. She had no problems bending the rules or flat out breaking the law, if she thought that it needed to be done, if she thought it would help her friends. That was evident the first time he met her. She'd asked him to steal from Lex Luther, but she'd done it for a good reason, not for herself, but for someone else.
It didn't take long after that initial meeting to realize that once Chloe became invested in a relationship, in another person, she was all in. She was in for the good and she was in for the bad. If you were lucky enough to be counted among those that she called her friends, you knew that she was fiercely loyal and she would lay down her life for yours in a second if she had to. And god help you if you tried to hurt someone she loved.
Neal had never had a person like that in his life. A person that knew exactly who he was and didn't care, who loved him anyway. He'd thought at one time that Kate was that person but he'd been wrong. Kate loved an idea of Neal, a version of Neal that she'd imagined in her head, not the real him. And part of that was his fault. She'd fallen in love with Nick Halden and she'd tried to reconcile him with Neal Caffrey and she'd done the best she could but there was a part of her that would never let go of Nick and that part could never fully accept Neal.
But Chloe knew him, knew who he was before she even met him. She never tried to change and him, never tried to make him into someone different. She just accepted him for him. And somehow with Chloe, he'd been more himself than he'd ever been with anyone else, shown her more of the real Neal Caffrey than Moz or Kate ever got to see.
That's why the thought of loving her was so terrifying. She knew him better than anyone ever had and that made him vulnerable. If she rejected him, she was rejecting the real him, not Nick Halden, not the version of Neal Caffrey that he showed to the rest of the world, she was rejecting him. And if that happened, Neal wasn't sure he'd be able to handle that.
But last night, she hadn't rejected him. She'd asked him to catch her, she wanted him just as much as he wanted her and now there was no Kate and there was no Jimmy to get in the way. It was just the two of them and the rush he got off of the prospect of having Chloe in his life, permanently was greater than any rush any con could ever give him.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Neal parked a few blocks away from the apartment building and was contemplating the best way in. He figured that Jimmy was probably still at the wedding reception and he be there for a while longer, which left Neal free to get in and out with him none the wiser. He could go through the front and just pick the lock, but he had no idea what the security was like in this place. There was no doorman but that didn't rule out security cameras or nosey neighbors. The answer was obvious then; the fire escape.
Most apartment buildings were all set up in the same style, with the even numbered units on the right and the odd numbered ones on the left, going front to back. Neal counted the windows along the left side of the building until he found Jimmy's and jumped up, grabbing the bottom rung of the fire escape ladder and pulling himself up. He climbed up the six flights and stopped. Most people, regardless of what floor they were on, always locked the fire escape window, but as long as they were high enough off the ground, felt safe enough to leave all the other's unlocked.
Neal looked to his left and saw a slightly smaller window, most likely leading into a bathroom, not just unlocked, but left wide open, practically begging him to come inside. There was a drainage pipe between the fire escape and the window ledge, just close enough that he could reach it if he stretched and he pulled himself slowly across the outside of the building, first to the drainage pipe, then to the open window.
He smiled smugly as he lowered his feet to the tiled bathroom floor. That had taken him less than three minutes, a personal best. He walked through the bathroom, making sure that he didn't leave any tell tale footprints in his wake and stepped out into Jimmy's apartment.
A building this old, in this neighborhood was going to outfit their units with wall safes and generally a person who could only afford so much in rent wasn't going to have anything that valuable to hide in the first place, so Neal zeroed in on the most common hiding places.
He checked the freezer first, found a wad of emergency cash in the ice maker but left it where it was. The point of this was to make it seem as if no one had been there and a couple hundred missing dollars would certainly raise questions. He moved onto the closet and then under the bed but it wasn't until he was digging around in the back of Jimmy's sock drawer that he hit pay dirt.
Neal smiled in triumph as he pulled the gold pocket watch out, catching the deeply engraved C.S. in the back before dropping it in his pocket. He was about to close the drawer and make his way back out the way he came in when the corner of something caught his eye. He paused, pushing a few pairs of socks out of the way to find a stack of photographs.
People didn't hide photographs under a pile of socks in the back of a drawer unless they wanted to make sure no one else ever saw them. Neal couldn't say he wasn't curious as to what a guy like Jimmy Olsen was hiding. The answer was obvious once Neal got a good look at the picture on top of the stack.
Neal had figured they be pictures of Chloe and he was right, but it wasn't a sweet memento; a shot of the two of them on a park bench or something. She was spread across the bed, wearing a lacy little black corset type thing, a garter belt, thigh highs, and red heals. Her hair was teased and tousled and she was giving the camera a soft, sultry look. Neal flipped through the rest of the pictures and with ever new shot she seemed to be wearing less and less clothing until finally she was lying there in nothing but the heals. The red heals. The same red heals that she'd been wearing the first time they met.
The thought of Jimmy seeing Chloe like that, seeing Chloe at all made Neal want to growl again. "And I'll be taking these too," Neal said quietly to himself as he slipped the pictures in his pocket.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"So that's where you went?" Chloe asked, her voice barely a whisper as she looked up at him through her lashes. "You didn't go to Lex?"
"What? No. Why would I have gone to Lex?" Neal frowned and grabbed Chloe's chin, forcing her to look up at him.
"I just, I thought…" Chloe stared at him, her eyes searching for something in his face. "I thought, oh hell it doesn't even matter anymore." She pushed herself forward, surprising Neal as her lips met his.
Neal's hand moved from her chin to cup her cheek, his fingers sliding into the hair at her neck as he pulled her closer. She whimpered low in her throat and Neal scooted closer, dropping her hand so he could grab her hip. He felt her tongue tease the edge of his lips and he opened his mouth for her.
Neal would never understand how he could have missed something so much that he only really had once, but he did miss it, so much. Chloe pulled away and he barely managed to stop himself from whimpering at the loss of her.
"I missed you," Chloe whispered against his lips, as if she'd been reading his mind. "I tried not to. I thought if I could stay mad at you I wouldn't miss you but it didn't work."
"Mad at me?" Neal asked confused but she didn't answer, just leaned in again, practically devouring him.
Her hands slid up his chest to wrap around his neck as she pushed herself up on her knees. Neal followed her lead, sliding further up onto the mattress as she leaned back, taking him with her.
"Wait," Chloe asked, pulling away. "Do you still have the pictures?" She blushed slightly when she thought about them. Lana had talked her into taking them one night after one too many glasses of wine and she'd completely forgotten that Jimmy even had them.
Neal's eyes darted quickly to the mantel, more specifically to the hidden compartment that June had gotten the watch from. Chloe just laughed and leaned forward kissing him again, harder, more urgently this time and Neal certainly wasn't going to complain.
He knew they had a lot of work to do, they certainly had a lot to talk about but as her hands slid back down his chest, pulling his shirt from his pants he stopped caring and just let himself have this. This moment here and now.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Peter yawned as he made his way down the hall to Chloe's apartment. It was just barely six a.m. but he'd already been awake for a few hours. Something had been bothering him all night long and he finally gave up on sleep, showered, dressed, dropped a kiss to Elizabeth's forehead and headed for Chloe's. He hadn't expected anyone else to be awake but he was buzzed in barely a minute after pushing the button.
When he walked into the apartment he was somehow completely unsurprised to find Mozzie sitting at the table, putting the finishing touches on the newly bronzed bust of Medusa. "It looks good," Peter bent closer to inspect Neal's work. "Really good."
"It'll pass a visual inspection but not much else," Mozzie said. "Then again that's all we really need it for isn't it?"
"Are you the only one here?" Peter frowned.
"Victor and AC are out," Mozzie said walking to the kitchen to freshen up his coffee. "Keeping an eye on the building where they're holding Bart."
Peter frowned. That seemed kind of pointless to him. They knew where Bart was for now and they knew where he was going to be later. Though he supposed it was better than doing nothing. Mozzie grabbed another cup from the cabinet and filled it up, passing it to Peter.
"Chloe? Neal?" Peter asked taking a long sip of the hot liquid.
Mozzie paused, as if debating whether or not to even answer that question. "Still at June's I presume."
"Both of them?" Peter asked. "Together?" Mozzie nodded and Peter sighed. This is what he'd been afraid of.
"Actually I'm supposed to meet them over there," Mozzie said after catching a glimpse at the clock on the wall. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and headed for the door.
"Is Oliver here yet?" Peter called out to him..
"He's up on the roof, practicing," Mozzie called out as the door shut behind him. Peter frowned. What on earth could he be practicing up on the roof at six in the morning?
When he stepped out in the slightly chilly morning air, that question was answered for him as an arrow flew past him, less than an inch from his face. He turned to his right to see Oliver lowering a long bow to his side, a smirk on his face. When he turned to his left it was easy to see why. The arrow had landed dead center. Bulls eye.
"Special Agent Burke," Oliver said, calling Peter's attention back to him as he loaded up another arrow. "What can I do for you?" Oliver raised the bow and took careful aim, concentrated on his breathing and then released, sending the arrow flying across the roof to land no more than a quarter of an inch to the left of the first one.
"Are you allowed to do that up here?" Peter asked him.
"I have a permit," Oliver shrugged and Peter looked surprised. Oliver didn't bother to tell him that said permit was only good in Metropolis. "I'm pretty sure you didn't come up here to talk to me about my target practice though, so what can I do for you?" Oliver asked again.
"Chloe Sullivan," Peter said walking over to Oliver's side and out of his line of fire. "Tell me about her." Oliver paused, another arrow slotted into place but the string still hanging loosely on the bow. "Neal has a tendency to…idealize the woman in his life first Kate then Alex. He turns them into this perfect fantasy that they can never live up to. The way he talks about Chloe - the way he's always talked about Chloe - I just need to know how much of that is real and how much is just…wishful thinking."
Oliver lifted the bow, weighing his words just as carefully as he set up his shot. "You know she stole over a billion dollars from me once?" He released the arrow, slotting it neatly into place on the right of the other two.
"She—a billion dollars?" Peter asked and Oliver chuckled, finally being able to laugh about that now. Though at the time it was hardly funny.
"She's paying me back," he shrugged, not offering any more information than that. Peter wondered what kind of relationship the two of them could have where stealing a billion dollars was just a funny thing that happened one time.
"I don't understand," Peter said truthfully.
"I know," Oliver shrugged. "You can't. Chloe and I—she's pulled me out of holes so deep and so dark that I never thought I'd see the light of day again. She believed in me so much she was willing to risk everything just to get me to believe in myself."
"Sounds like a good friend to have in your corner," Peter mused.
"She is. The best." Oliver grabbed another arrow. "That being said, Chloe's far from perfect. Trust me. She's made her share of mistakes."
"Like stealing a billion dollars," Peter interjected.
"Among other things. Things that a normal person might never have been able to come back from."
"Things like Davis Bloome," Peter said and Oliver dropped the bow to his side and turned back to Peter. Peter just knew there had to have been more to the story than what was in the file.
Oliver set the bow down and turned to Peter, investing himself fully in the conversation. "Davis wasn't her finest hour. She meant well." Oliver offered as if that sentiment had made any of them feel better about the whole debacle.
"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," Peter challenged and Oliver snorted.
"Nothing can excuse what she did. She knows that and I know that." Oliver said. "She made the wrong decision. She made a lot of wrong decisions. You say that Neal has a tendency to idealize the people in his life? It's no wonder they get along so well because that sounds dangerously like Chloe to me. She has so much faith, in everyone. She's willing to believe that there's good in everyone. Sometimes that belief gets her into trouble. It did with Lex, it definitely did with Lionel." Oliver shook his head.
"And then, there was Neal and she thought he was different, she really did. So when everything went down between them, it really screwed her up. I think that's why she was so blind when it came to Davis. It was like Neal had broken her and she couldn't see what was happening right in front of her face. Or maybe she just couldn't admit that she been so wrong about somebody again."
"She put her faith in the wrong person and as a result her husband, a very good man, was killed. She won't be making the mistake again." Oliver grabbed the bow from where he'd dropped it. "Which is sad in a way really."
"How?" Peter asked confused.
"When Chloe believes in you, it makes you feel like you can do anything," Oliver let the arrow go. "Like you're invincible. I feel sorry for the people who will never get to feel that."
They were silent for a while, watching the sun-rise over the city before Peter turned to Oliver. "You don't like Neal very much do you?" Peter asked and Oliver snorted, considering that to be the understatement of the century.
"He's a con man and a thief and grifter." Oliver pointed out. "I don't trust him."
"It's more than that," Peter shook his head unconvinced. "What did he do to Chloe that makes you hate him so much?"
Oliver studied Peter for a second in confusion. "You really don't know do you?"
"Know what?" Peter asked exasperated.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Chloe tried to open her eyes but the sun streaming through the windows was too bright. She blinked a few times, bringing a heavy hand up to shield herself from the light. When her eyes finally adjusted she sat up all the way, keeping the sheet wrapped tightly around her chest.
The first thing she saw were the paintings, eight of them, lined up against the window to dry. They were perfect; the color, the movement, the play on light and shadow. But she expected nothing less from Neal Caffrey. He was standing in front of the easel, shirtless, with just a pair of pajama bottoms hanging loosely from his hips, his bare feet padding softly on the wood floors. He stepped back and studied the canvas, a stern look on his face as he shoved his fingers through his hair and let out a breath before going back to the painting.
Chloe swallowed hard, remembered running her own fingers through his hair the night before. Remembered holding on tight and pulling as his lips trailed down her neck. Her body ached and she still wanted nothing more than to call him back into the bed and stay there with him for a week. Then she looked at the paintings and remembered Bart and how she had a job to do and that what she wanted needed to be put on the back burner, for now at least.
Chloe reached out and grabbed Neal's shirt that was hanging off the edge of the bed, slipping it on and buttoning a few of the buttons before padding across the room and pulling herself up onto the table to watch him work better.
"Did you sleep at all?" Chloe asked pulling her hair off of her neck.
"About an hour." Neal stepped back and surveyed the painting one more time. Satisfied with his work he walked over to the table, stopping in front of Chloe. She smiled sleepily up at him and opened her knees, allowing him to step in between her legs as he reached behind her for a rag.
"What time is it?" she asked as he whipped his hands.
"A little after six," Neal dropped the rag back to the table but didn't move.
"You shouldn't have let me sleep so long," Chloe sighed.
"I didn't have the heart to wake you," Neal shrugged and leaned down to kiss her. Chloe hesitated for no more than a second until she felt his breath on her lips and then she was leaning forward closing the distance between the two of them and sliding her lips softly along his. Her hands lifted up to cup his cheek, tilting his head slightly to the side to allow Chloe better access. He moaned low in the back of his throat as her fingers trailed down his bare chest to settle on his hips before pulling him closer.
His fingers found the buttons on her shirt and just as he popped the first one Chloe pulled away, pushing against his chest until he took a step back to stare down at her confused, his breathing ragged and uneven. "Wait Neal," Chloe said softly. "We need to talk before this goes any further. We should have talked last night but—"
Neal nodded. She didn't have to explain, he understood all too well. Being together again after all those years, being able to hold Chloe in his arms again had felt too good to risk losing it all over again. "I understand," he assured her. "There's uh…coffee and croissants on the balcony." He turned away from her and grabbed his undershirt off the back of the chair as Chloe slid off the edge of the table and made her way outside.
He sat across from her as she poured out two cups of coffee and picked absently at the edge of one of the pastries. "Last night, you asked me if I went to see Lex," Neal prodded. "Why?"
"I guess I should start at the beginning huh?"