The Southern voice was one that Neal recognized. It belonged to a vulgar, aggressive, and abusive ex-employer who lives in Texas. His name was Samuel Edwards. Samuel Edwards had Kate, Neal knew Sam, it was how he had met Kate. She had been his girlfriend that the moment and Neal was working for him. Usually Neal flew solo but those were the pre-legacy days where there was no Mozzie and he was desperately trying to work up a reputation. The way Neal had found it easiest was to get a legacy to hire him. So he prepared a forgery of Vincent Van Gough's Starry night and Sam had hired him on the spot. Neal remembered every detail of that man, how white his teeth were in contrast to his Texan skin, how freckles dotted his nose and he had a single dot by his right eye. How Sam always wore his black leather cowboy boots and his lucky brown leather belt and inscribed belt buckle. Neal also remembered his vulgar and cruel personality that he could hide with an easy smile and a small sentence in his smooth, Southern drawl.

Sam was a man that people naturally trusted; he was the person who gained access to art pieces. However, being the offspring of a supermodel and an accountant, he didn't exactly have artistic genes. That's where Sam had needed Neal: the artist he could control. Everyday Sam would lead Neal to a small white room, with a sliver table, a single pale wood easel, and any art supplies he would need. Neal remembered how Sam would shut the steel door and lock him into the suffocating room after barking orders to be completed by the day, if they weren't there would be hell to pay. Neal while recalling this absent-mindedly rubbed at the small scar hidden by his beautiful dark hair. The scar that had taught Neal to do and not ask; the scar that had come from an uncompleted work and a steel chair pounding into his skull.

But those days were not always a hellish prison he couldn't escape, he had Kate. Kate would sneak in during the day and give him Ice Tea and one of her bright pearly smiles. They always gave him strength to continue working, and Neal always noticed that they seemed to have the same effect on Kate. After their visits, Kate's eyes always smiled, the blue in her eyes coming out further and she would often thank Neal for the nice encounters. Some days she would share her plans. She loved the classics and always dreamed of getting away from Sam, working with a man to complete her own cons, and with enough money, she would retire to Paris with the man of her dreams. That man turned out to be Neal and once Kate and Neal had taken enough abuse, they had quit working for Sam and flew all over the world, completing their own heists and collecting their own precious works. They had returned to new York when Neal went to prison, 3 years and months later Kate went missing.

Neal gritted his teeth at the idea that Kate was still missing and he had to find her. He punched the table in the kitchen, it was the only place in the house where he could escape Peter's awkward glances and concerned looks. Neal didn't know what he was going to do. Right before Neal and Kate had quit and run away together, Sam had wanted to steal the painting, The Scream. Sam had been hunting it for years, it was his ultimate goal. But halfway during the planning, the warehouse caught fire and destroyed all the blueprints. Soon after, they had left. Rumor stated that Sam had never stopped yearning it and had chased it for years. Sam had fallen out of the top ranks due to that and his obsession soon grew into a desire so severe, it bordered on insane. A few years back, Neal had made a forgery of the perfect painting, the soft brushstrokes and warm, mellow colors right up the easy-going conman's ally. Sam must have caught wind of the forgery that Neal had passed off as the real thing and kidnapped Kate.

But now Neal was stuck. He was stuck between Kate and Peter. Neal didn't want to let Peter down, he didn't want to be that conman that Peter had chased all those years, and he wanted to be the gentle and kind person that Peter considered a friend. He didn't want to keep giving out false smiles and deceiving hand shakes. He wanted to have friends that made him laugh, that made him want to be a better person. And as socially inept as Peter was, he was the perfect man for the job, he had always been there and was really starting to trust Neal. On the other hand, Kate was the love of Neal's life. He would die for her, and he would get that painting for her. But, Neal didn't know if Kate loved Neal or love the idea of him, the idea of a conman that could help her achieve her goals. Who could teach her to make her own forgeries and get her enough money to move to Paris. Neal didn't know how many of her ' I love yous' she had meant, he didn't know how many of her smiles had been real, how many of her kisses had been passionate. And the thought that Kate couldn't have loved him always was there in the back of his mind, lurking in the shadows, and waiting for a weak enough mind to pounce and deliver a devastating blow. This was one of those moments, and Neal knew who he cared about more, who had proven worthy, who he would trust and who he would stick by. He may have loved Kate but he wasn't willing to give up what he had built back up with Peter after Fowler and Adler. He was going to figure this out; he was going to save his Kate without burning bridges. There was one man he could trust. And that man was Peter Burke.

A/N Sorry that it's just a filler chapter but I needed to establish background. Please review, every review makes me want to write another chapter! Thank you guys for all your support so far and I hope you like the story so.