Note: Thank you all for your response to this sequel even though it's been almost a full year since the original. Hugs! I will be trying to update every 7-10 days, but I do post as I write so sometimes I can't meet 'deadlines'.

Chapter two

"I do miss you."

Neal sighed heavily as he reached up and pressed his hand against his shoulder as he tried to get comfortable. Taking a step back Neal looked over the large high quality framed print of the New York skyline at sunset that he had just finished hanging on the wall of his office. The center of the photo was focused on the Chrysler Building and its iconic lights reminding him of the view from June's place. Having grown up in WitSec and been basically on the run most his life Neal had never really felt like any place felt like 'home' until he visited New York. The second he had stepped foot in the city he felt he belonged there. Neal regretted letting Alex talk him into Europe, and when he thought Kate might be back in New York he couldn't resist returning even though he had suspected the trap Peter had set for him there.

Washington DC had its beauty and charm as well, not to mention a strong and noticeable history. However after living the forest of skyscrapers and iconic landmarks of New York Neal couldn't help but feel that DC felt a little small. Feeling the need to be above the city as best he could Neal had arranged to stay at the largest penthouse room at the historic Old Post Office Pavilion through connections with an old friend. Technically the cathedral like building was still under reconstruction but his corner of what was soon going to be a luxury hotel was completed. Being the second highest building in the city the location offered a breathtaking view of the National Mall, he could even see the White House along with the Washington Monument. It also had the added advantage of being a block away from the Federal Building.

Still feeling a little home sick Neal shrugged his shoulders and tugged at his shirt. His shoulder hadn't been as much of a problem over the past few months, but it did still act up particularly when he was stressed. Reaching up again he pulled on the leather shoulder gun harness that he was wearing. Restless in the office Neal went over to his mahogany desk and draped his jacket over the back of his chair before he forced himself to sit down to the paperwork that he was supposed to be looking through and signing. It was just the standard set papers for a new Agent assignment but it all needed to be filled out in triplicate. Picking up the colorful rubberband ball that he had stolen from the White Collar office Neal rolled it back and forth on his desk for a moment before putting it back down and picking up his phone and dialing out.

"Come on," Neal said impatiently as the phone rang "pick up, please."

'I'm sorry,' a digital female voice automatically answered the line 'the number you have dialed does not accept solicitations from Federal Agents, traitors or worse yet both.'

"Mozzie," Neal sighed once the answering machine beeped to take a message "you can't stay mad at me forever. I mean I suppose you can, but please don't. Call me back."

Neal waited a moment allowing the message to record silence before hanging up. Mozzie had been distrustful of Frost before he had learned that he was CIA, after learning that detail Mozzie had outright labeled him 'the enemy'. He also hadn't been exactly supportive the 'insane' idea of Neal going to the Academy, and he had stopped talking to him completely when he discovered that Neal was moving to DC to work with Peter in Art Crimes. Neal didn't want to lose Mozzie's friendship and he wasn't ready to give up on it, but he wasn't sure how to save it.

Focusing at the task at hand Neal started combing through the forms that had been waiting for him on his desk this morning. So far his first day at the FBI was not nearly as exciting as he'd hoped. He still had a lot to learn about the legal side of being an Agent that he had always let Peter take care of. A few hours sifting through the policies and procedures that he was going to need to deal with from now on was not Neal's idea of a good time and when there was a knock at the door he was more than happy to push the papers aside.

"Come in."

Peter stepped through the door and closed it behind him. He walked up to Neal's desk but didn't sit in either of the chairs that was in front of it.

"I never thought I'd see the day that Peter Burke would be knocking on my office door." Neal remarked honestly.

"I could have you moved out into the bullpen. Most probationary Agents don't get their own office."

"I'll be sure to feel special."

"Frost requested it." Peter said dryly.

"Ah." Neal smiled. "I'll have to thank him."

"I'm sure he'll give you the chance."

"No doubt he wanted me to be able to have some privacy when working on…whatever it is he wants me working on."

Peter didn't comment further even though it was clear he wanted to. Neal had the distinct feeling that Peter was becoming increasingly nervous about their deal with Frost. Peter probably figure the longer the CIA Agent waited to ask for something from the them the more likely that the something was going to be something big. Peter looked Neal over and furrowed his brow.

"Peter?"

"Neal, why are you wearing your shoulder harness at your desk?"

"I'm trying to get used to it," Neal tugged at his shirt again "it's uncomfortable."

"Stand up." Peter instructed. "Come here."

Neal eye Peter suspiciously not sure if he should comply. Peter didn't repeat himself he just stood there looking at Neal expectantly. Giving in Neal got to his feet, walked around his desk and stepped up to Peter. Peter studied him with a critical eye before gesturing for Neal to turn around. Turning his back to Peter Neal lifted up his arms when he nudged him. Peter ran his hands over the top of Neal's shoulders before tracing his fingertips down his back on either side looking for margins of Neal's shoulder blades. Peter had Neal put his arms back down and repeated the motion. Neal squirmed as Peter touch turned ticklish when he pushed his hands under Neal's armpits to see how high the shoulder harness was riding.

"It's too tight." Peter diagnosed. "Just like everything else you wear."

"It's called fashion, look it up." Neal teased.

Rolling his eyes Peter readjusted the leather strapping for a more natural fit.

"How's that?" Peter asked.

"Much better." Neal replied honestly as he shrugged his shoulders and turned back around. "Thank you."

"It's going to take some time to get use to it, but eventually you'll feel naked without it."

"Carrying the gun is definitely stranger to me than carrying the badge." Neal admitted. "You know they say in law enforcement that you're more likely to be accidentally shot by your partner than intentionally shot by anyone else. So you should be the one worried that I'm packing heat now."

"Actually statistically speaking as law enforcement you're at greater risk to use your gun against your yourself than be killed by someone else." Peter said seriously. "That's not going to happen to you, right?"

"What?" Neal asked confused. "I'm not a danger to myself if that's what you're asking."

"That is exactly what I'm asking." Peter confirmed.

"Why are you so worried about me lately?"

"Because of what I know."

"And what exactly do you think you know?"

"I know Mozzie isn't talking to you, I know you miss New York, I know becoming an Agent is a huge change in your life and it has to be a stressful one, I know you're struggling with how your past is affecting how you are seen by the other Agents, I know you are going to be dealing with Frost and whatever he wants, I know you never got any professional help for your conversion disorder, and I know your psych eval for the Academy had more than one red flag on it."

"Peter…"

"What I don't know is how well you're handling everything."

"I'm fine."

"I heard those words from you so many times after Rachel's death, and even though I never fully believe them you were so much worse than I had ever imagined, and by the time I realized that it was almost too late. I hate to think what might have happened if you'd had gun instead of those pills, at least they were a slow poison."

"I was never trying to kill myself, Peter, I was just trying to escape the pain."

"That's exactly what suicide victims are trying to do."

Neal was a little surprised by the gravity in Peter's voice. He knew that Peter worried about his sometimes self destructive behavior, but he never suspected that Peter thought he was at risk for such a drastic solution. Although when he thought about it he had only been suffering from the conversion disorder for a few months at the time that he'd started buy narcotic pain killers off the street. It was hard to know what another year of pain would have driven him to do.

"I'm good, Peter." Neal assured again. "I promise."

"What I want you to promise is that you'll come to me if that changes."

"Peter…have you lost someone to suicide?"

"That's not the point." Peter replied elusively. "I just want you to know that you can come to me with anything."

"I know that. However I'm in a better place now than I have been in a long time, despite some complications."

"You're life has been full of complications." Peter agreed.

"And it always will be."

Peter studied Neal for a moment before nodding in agreement. Neal waited to see if Peter would elaborate on his apparent past experience with a tragic and possibly preventable loss, but Peter didn't say anything more. Peter turned his attention to the framed picture of the Chrysler Building. Staring at the New York skyline Peter seemed to have settled into a slightly melancholy mood. Neal couldn't tell if it was because he missed the city as well or if he was lost in darker thoughts. Before Neal could ask what he was thinking Peter visibly pushed whatever was bothering him out of his mind and turned to Neal with the enthusiastic smile that he reserved strictly for when he had a new case for them to work on.

"What we need is to get going on a case." Peter announced. "Are you still hot to trot on the Gardner heist?"

"What you mean the unsolvable, and mysterious largest private property theft in history that includes not only Rembrandt's only seascape, but one of only thirty-four known Vermeer works as well as five Degas? Yeah…I'm still mildly interested."

"You do know the statue of limitations was up on the case six years ago, right?"

"So?" Neal shrugged.

"So you're not going to be able to arrest anyone for the theft."

"It's not about the arrest, it's about recovering a piece of history."

"It would certainly be a 'feather in your fedora' to solve the Gardner case."

"I just want to hold Storm on the Sea Galilee." Neal smiled. "I always wished I'd been a part of that heist."

"So I don't have to worry about finding out it was you?"

"I was thirteen, Peter."

Peter narrowed his eyes and glared at Neal in mock suspicion.

"It wasn't me." Neal chuckled. "I started young, but not that big."

"I think you're going to find that returning art to its rightful place is a lot more satisfying than stealing it even if the pay isn't nearly as good."

"I don't know about that last part, the five million dollar reward the Gardner is offering is not bad pocket change."

"You know that the Bureau wouldn't accept that money, right?"

"Does that mean I can't?"

"You're part of the Bureau now, Agent Caffrey."

"Right…remind me why I wanted this job again?"

"I hope it's because you wanted to be able to participate in the paperwork involved in solving a 26 year old cold case rather than just sitting across my desk throwing a rubberband ball in the air to yourself complaining about being bored while I write it all up."

"…I did not think this whole 'Agent' thing through."