Note: Wow...long chapter ended up being long. Enjoy! It's time to get this plot started!

Chapter Three

Sitting at his desk Peter sifted through a heap of case files recently handed in by his team of seventeen Agents. With the entire National Stolen Art File on their case load and occasional international agency team up for art recovery there was never a lack of active cases to keep everyone busy. The Art Crimes Agents were highly specialized and used to working independently with little to no over sight. Peter was looking over the work mostly because it was his job to, but he also knew the best way to earn the team's respect was to not only show he was paying attention to what they were doing but to offer guidance when a case started to go cold. Peter was pulled away from his reading when there was a knock at his open door.

"Hey, Chief." Agent Aubrey greeted casually. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, come in."

"Is this about the Malaki case?" Aubrey asked as he stepped in and took a seat in front of Peter's desk. "For such a sloppy smash and grab they don't seem to be in a hurry to sell it, with what else was taken it had the feel of a 'this looks like it might be worth something' snatch rather than a targeted theft. I've got several ears to the ground, but so far none of my CIs have reported anyone trying to fence the Yegorovich or even just a whisper about it anywhere."

"I don't think you're going to find it, it's probably been destroyed."

"Destroyed? Are your White Collar senses tingling?" Aubrey chuckled.

"As a matter of fact they are." Peter smiled. "This case reeks of insurance fraud or at least a variant of it."

"I checked their financials and neither spouse is in any kind of money trouble that would warrant committing fraud."

"It's not always about money." Peter said as he pulled out the crime scene photos. "This whole place has been decorated in a modern minimalist style, probably within the last year or so considering that's when this whole glass and steel look became trendy. According to the insurance a year ago the wife had the painting reappraised, I'm willing to bet you'll find she'd been quietly trying to find a buyer since."

"1850's Victorian woman's oil portrait does clash with the glass davenport by Fendi." Aubrey agreed. "You know the wife seemed a little too calm about the break in when I talked to her, it was the husband who was the more distraught over the theft. But if the carpet no longer matched the drapes why not just sell it, even at a loss?"

"It's most likely a family heirloom of his."

"Ruining her new metropolitan taste, but reminding him of home." Aubrey smiled. "I like it, I'll take a closer look at the wife."

"She probably tried to find a buyer who was willing to offer her husband a high enough price to make him part with it."

"When that failed she paid someone one to take it and destroy it to make sure it didn't find its way back to her."

"Just a theory."

"Certainly worth looking into." Aubrey said. "Thanks, Chief."

"Anytime."

Peter handed the case file back to Aubrey. Getting to his feet the Agent took the file and tucked it under his arm. Heading for the exit he stopped in the door frame and hesitated to leave. Aubrey turned back around looking like he wanted to say something but not sure he wanted to press his luck with his relatively new boss.

"Something wrong, Aubrey?" Peter asked.

"I'm sure it's nothing, but do you know that Neal's been rummaging around down in Evidence for the past three hours?"

Peter narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at Aubrey's word choice.

"I…uh…I just thought…" Aubrey added awkwardly.

"I don't need hourly updates on Agent Caffrey's whereabouts."

"Right, of course not. Sorry, Chief."

Peter made it clear that the conversation was over by turning his attention back to the files on his desk. Aubrey took the hint and left, closing the door behind him. Sighing heavily Peter got to his feet and went over to open his door again. Peter was starting to wonder if he should have engaged Aubrey in more of a discussion about Neal, but at the same time he couldn't see a conversation like that going anywhere but down hill. The other Art Crime Agents were suspicious of Neal and his entry into the Academy because it was a suspicious situation. Peter had decided that not drawing attention to it was the best move. He'd let Neal's natural charm and hopefully eventually his good track record smooth things out between himself and the other Agents.

"Although 'rummaging' around in Evidence on your first day was not a great move, Neal." Peter muttered to himself.

As much as Peter wanted to head directly down to Evidence to see what Neal was up to he went back to his desk instead. Going down to Evidence would mean walking past the bullpen to the elevators and the last thing he needed right now was to have Aubrey and the others thinking that he was checking up on Neal. Reminding himself he needed to trust Neal Peter went back to sorting through the files.

After signing off on the closed cases he'd been handed and glancing through the active ones that had Agents assigned to them Peter turned to the National Stolen Art File database. The gigantic database was an overwhelming amount of work, but no case was truly closed until the work was found. Part of his job was deciding which cases got priority. Right now Peter was looking for a recent local case for he and Neal to work on since the Gardner case was going to be more of a long term pet project of Neal's. Coming across an unusual theft from three days ago Peter smiled, it was just strange enough to get Neal's attention. Printing out the information Peter pulled a new folder out of his desk and started a case file.

Looking over at the clock Peter found it was ten minutes past five. Since arriving at Art Crimes Peter had managed to be home in time for dinner almost every night, a change from his days at White Collar that Elizabeth heavily appreciated. He also hadn't been shot at in DC or even had reason to draw his weapon. With Neal in the field some of that was likely to change now that he'd be more actively working cases again, but all in all Art Crimes was a safer position than most FBI subdivisions.

Case file in hand Peter walked over to Neal's office only to find it empty. Neal's jacket was still on the back of the chair so it was unlikely that he'd left for the night. It had been just after two when Aubrey came to tell Peter that Neal was down in Evidence. Peter placed the new case on Neal's empty desk so that it would be there for him in the morning. Going back to his office Peter collected up his things and put on his jacket to leave. He said good night to the staff that was staying a little late and headed for the elevator. Once on the elevator Peter hesitated as to which floor to push, in the end Peter couldn't just go home.

Swiping his key card against the reader he pressed the button that would take him to the basement level. In the basement Peter showed his badge to the guard sitting at the desk behind bullet proof glass. Signing in Peter noted Neal's graceful signature a few slots up with no signature for signing out. Peter headed back to the Evidence locker which required another sign in, but Neal wasn't there. Walking to the end of the hallway Peter stepped into the case file room. Cases that had grown cold were stored down here to save on space in the offices. Although much of the world was moving to digital format the FBI still kept a lot of its work on hard copies since they were impossible to hack into.

Peter found that Neal had set up the small working desk in the file room with a stack of about three dozen case files. Neal was in the back of the maze of filing cabinets flipping through a file. Hearing that he had company Neal returned to the desk with the file in hand.

"Hey, Peter. What's up?"

"Why are you down here?"

"Because I can." Neal chuckled.

"Neal…"

"I'm working, I swear."

"On what?"

"Crime."

"Crime?" Peter repeated dubiously.

Neal just smiled brightly. It was a smile that Peter was painfully familiar with, the one Neal used when he felt he was being particularly clever. Taking the bait even though he knew he shouldn't Peter picked up one of the files and leafed through it before looking through two more. Picking up the fourth file Peter noticed the pattern. He looked up at Neal disapprovingly.

"These are all you, aren't they?" Peter asked knowingly.

"Case closed."

"Neal, no. Frost can't make this all disappear. You'll be twice as noticeable by the hole in the files that you leave behind as you are just letting these sit down here."

"Relax, Peter, I've got a great idea that doesn't leave any holes, and it doesn't involve Frost. I'm going to burn my best alias on this."

"You are not 'framing' Charles Litmore for your past crimes Neal." Peter said firmly.

"You know about Charles?" Neal asked surprised. "I thought he was bullet proof."

"He is."

"Then how do you know about him?"

"Intuition."

"Nice. I could have sworn I was more careful with Charles than any of the others." Neal smiled. "Peter, I have to say I'm impressed. More impressed than when I found you knew about Steve Tabernacle. I created Charles with specifically avoiding you in mind. He is perfect though, I can connect him to all of this and I can come up with a death certificate from two years ago so we don't have to worry about actually trying to catch him."

"No alias is perfect, you can't draw attention to yourself by mysteriously linking all of these crimes to someone who isn't on any watch lists and who doesn't even exist. You can't just undo your past Neal."

"I wasn't just going to magically solve these, I was also going to connect this with some stuff that happened while I was in prison to help avoid suspicion."

"I will not have you cleaning up Mozzie's messes like this either."

"Alex's actually."

"Whatever." Peter growled. "It's not happening. If these cases haven't been solidly connected to you by now then just let sleeping dogs lay."

"Now that I'm here I was worried that some of these might come up again by the other Agents looking to get rid of me. Maybe I could steer one of the other Agents towards Charles. Aubrey…"

"Aubrey is already watching you. Just leave it alone. I found a legitimate case for us to work on this week."

"What about the Gardner?"

"We can keep working on that as well, but that case is not going to be a quick win and you need a quick win."

"This is a quick win." Neal pointed out as he gestured to the files.

"No, this is a quick cheat."

Neal looked down at the files for a moment as he weighed out his options before nodding in agreement. Peter was relieved that this wasn't going to turn into an argument. It was heartening to see that Neal seemed to truly want to change who he was, even if he wasn't going about it the right way.

"So what do you have in mind?" Neal asked.

"A set of Nazca Skulls were stolen recently."

"Nazca? As in ancient ritualistically deformed skulls?"

"That's right. Anything art or culture based is in the National Stolen Art File."

"I'm game."

"I thought you would be. The file is on your desk, we can go over it in the morning."

"Okay, I'm going to clean these up."

"Want help putting them back?"

"Sure, good to have two sets of prints on them anyway."

Peter smiled and gingerly picked up the top file with exaggerated care to get as little evidence on it as possible. Neal took it away from him and made an equal show of putting a perfect set of prints on it. With the systematic filing system it didn't take long for the pair to place the files back in the cabinets where hopefully they would stay.

"Alright, all back safe and sound." Neal said. "Let's hope they stay there."

"Neal, I know what you were trying to do with all of this, but just focus on going forward right now."

"Speaking of which I'm meeting my landlord for the keys to my new place tonight. Want to come check it out?"

"Sounds good. Elizabeth invited you over for dinner tonight, it slipped my mind until now."

"Dinner would be great. Picking up the keys won't take long, it's right across the street."

"There aren't any apartments around here Neal."

"I never said it was an apartment."

Neal didn't elaborate further. Knowing Neal loved to show off a surprise Peter didn't press for answers he just waited outside the front entrance to the Federal Building while Neal went upstairs to get his jacket. It was just settling into Spring and the air was heavy with the scent of cherry blossoms. If it was one thing DC had over Midtown New York it was an over abundance of trees and green spaces. Arriving downstairs Neal lead Peter a block and a half away and across the street to the triple archways of the Gothic looking Old Post Office Building.

"Home sweet home." Neal announced.

"Here?" Peter looked up at the historic clock tower that rose out of the center of the tall building. "I thought this was a luxury hotel."

"It is." Neal confirmed.

"Let me guess: you know a guy."

"Not exactly."

Neal encouraged Peter to follow him up to the large glass doors. Peter furrowed his brow as he noticed that there weren't any lights on inside or anyone at the large cherry wood front desk. His sinking suspicions about the place were confirmed when Neal pulled a lock pick set out of his inner jacket pocket.

"Wait, is this place even open yet?"

"Nope." Neal chuckled as he managed to spring the lock. "It opens in September, come on in."

"Neal this is breaking and entering, and trespassing."

"I have permission to 'let myself in'." Neal assured as he swung the door open. "Trust me."

Peter took a breath to protest but in the end he knew that arguing was pointless. Hoping not to be arrested Peter followed Neal into the front entrance of the grand hotel. Peter decided that whatever finishing touches they were performing to get ready for their big opening must be in the rooms themselves because the front lobby was perfect and amazing. Neal stepped across the inlaid marble floor to an ornately decorated elevator door. The renovations had taken to heart the flowing Art Nouveau style that was at its peak at the turn of the 20th century when the building had been originally constructed. The graceful curves and scroll work had been popular before it was replaced by the more angular Art Deco trend of the 1920's.

The delicately stained glass inside the elevator held an abstract sweeping pattern that gave the impression of a graceful tree in the breeze. Clearly proud of his new, and probably illegal, residence Neal pressed the brass button for the top floor. The doors opened in the middle of an elegant hallway that held more works of Art Nouveau on the walls and a deep red carpet. The dark cherry wood door at the right end of the short hallway was standing open.

Neal encouraged Peter to follow him down the hall and into the large penthouse suite. The open plan studio had the same Art Nouveau feel, but if anything it looked like twice as much money had been poured into it than the dazzling front lobby. Peter had no doubt in his mind that all of the hand carved turn of the century furniture was authentic. The large windows that dominated the far wall and right hand wall looked out over the National Mall with a spectacular view of the Capitol city that was just starting to light up as the sun set. The kitchen was separated from the rest the living space by an ebony island bar with copper accents. A set of copper pans that had never seen a day of cooking in their lives were suspended high above the island and were matched by the copper refrigerator and gas stove set in the black granite counter top.

Peter tensed as a woman in a leopard print dress tight enough to be mistaken for a tattoo stepped out of the large walk in closet that lead into the bathroom. Her figure was a little too perfectly hourglass to be natural seeing as her corseted waistline looked like it barely had room for the organs typically found in an adult human. Her blood red dyed hair was pulled back from her face but fell in large loose curls down her back. Spotting Neal and Peter her face lit up with a smile made up of perfectly even and white teeth. She hurried over with tiny steps in her dangerously high heels with an unnatural bounce to her over sized bust line. With a classic feel to her whole look she was almost like a modernized 1950's pin up.

"Nick, darling!" Vivian greeted enthusiastically. "Always wonderful to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Vivian."

Vivian threw her arms around Neal but was careful when she hugged him not to smear her make-up. Neal returned the affection by just lightly touching her shoulders as if he felt she was delicate in some way. Peter had initially assumed she was in her early forties when she'd first arrived on the scene, but with her closer there was a slight unnatural tightness to her skin and fine lines in areas that couldn't be erased by modern medicine that betrayed her as being much older. Peter couldn't be sure but he got the sense that she was probably nearly a decade older than he was. The woman Neal had met in the Hamptons for the sapphire and diamond platinum chalice that Neal had used to try and draw Frost out stepped away from Neal and turned her bright green eyes on Peter.

"I see you brought me dessert." Vivian purred as she flashed Peter a predatory smile. "What's your name, Sweetness?"

"Vivian, this is Peter." Neal introduced. "And he is not on the menu."

"Are you sure?" Vivian asked Peter directly as suddenly invaded his personal space and traced a well manicured nail along his lapel. "I have quite the appetite, and you certainly look eatable."

"I…uh…" Peter flushed as Vivian's Jean Patou perfume invaded his senses.

"He's happily married." Neal added.

"No one's that happy." Vivian chuckled as she turned around making sure she brushed her backside against Peter.

"I am." Peter corrected as he took a large step away from Vivian.

"You just don't know any better." Vivian chuckled.

"You're wasting your time with him, Viv. Trust me."

"Fine." Vivian sighed in exaggerated defeat. "I suppose my days of ruining marriages are over."

"I highly doubt that." Neal chuckled.

"Flattery, it's always been your best feature, Nick." Vivian looked Neal over. "Well second best, third if I really had to put a number to it…"

Peter shot Neal a sour look that Neal just answered with an innocent shrug. Vivian walked over to the ebony bar and picked up a gold key chain with a set of keys dangling from it. She brought them over but didn't relinquish them right away.

"Like what I've done with the place." Vivian asked knowingly.

"I do."

"Much like yourself, I expect you to keep it in good shape for me."

"Of course."

"I have a Senator to see and then a flight to catch." Vivian declared as she glanced at her rose gold Bulgari watch. "Don't do anything in here that I wouldn't do."

"That is not a long list."

"It really isn't."

Vivian stepped up close to lean against Neal and tucked the keys in his breast pocket. She kissed his cheek leaving a crimson lipstick stain. She turned to give Peter a similar mark but he held up both his hands and took another step away from her. Vivian winked at him instead before saying her good byes to Neal and leaving. Neal slipped his hands into his pockets and smiled at Peter.

"So this is how you got this place, by being cougar bait?" Peter asked distastefully.

"It's not like that. She only comes to DC a few days out of the year and she needs someone to look after her place while she's gone."

"And you'll be sleeping on the couch when she visits?"

"I'll deal with that bridge when I come to it."

"I suggest you burn that bridge when you come to it, at the very least use protection while crossing it, 'Nick'."

Neal laughed at Peter's obvious disapproval in his new landlord. He did have to admit that he need to be careful around Vivian, she had gotten the best of him before. Spotting a glass of red wine already poured on the marble counter of the mini bar Neal walked over and picked it up. He gave it a quick sniff, it seemed safe but with Vivian's history of slipping him hallucinogens in the past he decided it probably wasn't worth the risk. He took the wine over to the sink and poured it out.

"Dare I ask?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's a long story, let's just say she has a way of getting what she wants."

"I need to get home to Elizabeth, now." Peter said looking increasingly uncomfortable even with Vivian gone. "Are you coming over or staying her in case 'Viv' comes back?"

"Dinner sounds great, the kitchen isn't open down stairs yet, but I hear they are getting several five star chefs."

"Of course they are." Peter grumbled.

Neal tried not to laugh at Peter's disgruntled tone but failed. They were just about to step out of the hotel room turned apartment when Peter's cell phone rang. Peter pulled out the phone and furrowed his brow as he read the number before answering it. Neal had feeling that he was on his own for dinner from what he could hear from Peter's side of the conversation. Hanging up Peter apologized to Neal, one of his Agents out in California needed some brass back up and he was going to have to head back to the office for a conference call. With Agents all over the country as part of the Art Crimes department these events were bound to happen now and then.

Neal knew Elizabeth wouldn't mind him coming over without Peter, but he decided to decline the invitation for tonight. Peter took one last look around the opulent hotel room that Neal wouldn't have been able to afford even on both the FBI and CIA payroll before shaking his head and leaving for what was probably going to be a late night at the office. Neal offered to join him but Peter told him there wouldn't be anything he could do to help with the situation. Shortly after Peter left Neal was just starting to think about what he was going to do for food when his own phone rang with a blocked number.

"Mozzie?" Neal answered hopefully.

"No, sorry, just me."

"Frost?"

"Hey, Caffrey," Frost greeted cheerfully "I know this is a little last minute but do you have dinner plans?"

"Uh…well, not anymore."

"Good, meet me at the Blue Duck Tavern in half an hour."

"Is this business or pleasure?"

"It's always a pleasure doing business with me." Frost chuckled.

"We'll see about that."

"So you'll be there?"

"If I don't are you just going to arrive here seeing as I assume you already know where I live?"

"I do and I will." Frost admitted. "But I'm not a food delivery service and the Blue Duck has the best steak DC has to offer. It's not Per Se, but I'm picking up the tab on this one."

"Then I guess it's a date."